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#kindergarten teacher au

avonne-writes · 25 days

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hi hello

post war kindergarten teacher buck and bucky who comes in for career day

that is all byeeeeee

Sweet! Okay, but now my mind got completely derailed to the Schwarzenegger movie Kindergarten Cop, where's he’s a cop going undercover as a kindergarten teacher. I think this would work with slightly-awkward-with-kids Buck and single dad Bucky, or even the other way around. In any case, fun idea to put one of them in a kindergarten!

#buck x bucky #clegan #kindergarten teacher au #anon

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pettydollie · 5 months

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could you IMAGINE bakugou having a gf whos a teacher?? but not just any teacher, nono. a KINDERGARTEN TEACHER. lowkey when he sees u teaching a kid abt counting apples or something, he will think abt having children with you. just seeing you being so gentle nd sweet with little brats munchkins turns his brain into mush.

on one particular day, he went into your classroom wearing his hero costume for a little q/a type thing. everyone was so impressed just by looking at him, even if they didn't know who he was. they were all sat whispering to their friends at small desks as bakugou's large figure just strutted in LOL.

you give him a tiny little peck when he walked into the classroom, to which some kids let out "ooo"s and snickered. you clapped your hands together. "okay boys and girls, let's walk over to the magic carpet for circle time!" you led bakugou with you to the large rug where two chairs were set.

the kids were all sat in a circle, excitedly waiting to talk to the number two hero!! bakugou sat down somewhat awkwardly as for the first time in a while, he was a teeeensy bit nervous for whatever reason. "today we have a special guest joining us for circle time! does anyone know who he is?" you grinned as you saw many hands go up.

"yes, ryu?" you picked on an adorable little boy in the center. "that's mr. dynamite from the news!" he yelled.

"that's right, ryu! but let's use our inside voices, please." you smiled. "does anyone know what mr. dynamite does?" you questioned again. one little girl was squirming in her seat, hand held high. "go ahead, kanako." you nodded to the girl who sat up straighter upon being called on.

"he saves people, l/n-sensei!"

"damn right i do." bakugou smirked pridefully. you lightly nudged his shoulder. "no cursing." you whispered. he rolled his eyes but listened nonetheless. "okay, starting from this side of the rug," you pointed to the left. "you can ask anything you want to the hero, as long as you are kind. and if you don't have a question just say 'pass' and we'll go straight to the next person." you announced. all the children nodded in unison.

"start us off, please." you handed the 'talking mic' to the first kid. "mr. dynamite sir, where are your blasters?" he curiously turned his head to the side. "huh?-" bakugou looked down at his hands. "my gauntlets? left those guys at work. they're too powerful to be here." he answered.

the punks students continued to ask their questions and bakugou replied calmly like this was an everyday event. "you're big." a boy stated. bakugou quirked a brow. that's all this brat had to say? "i know." he replied nonchalantly. "why?" the kid blinked, keeping a straight face.

"uh, why?? i dunno, kid. jus' the way i am." he shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. the kid folded his arms and moved to sit on his knees. "it's my turn now.." a quiet girl next to him tapped on his shoulder, reaching out for the mic. the boy stuck out his tongue at her before turning away to look at bakugou again. "thas' not a real answer."

"kenji, that wasn't kind. you had your turn, now please give the mic to haru." you frowned. haru's eyes turned glossy and her lip began to quiver, but kenji still wasn't letting up. "thas' not fair, sensei!" kenji whined.

"hold it, kid." bakugou stepped in. kenji's attention turned to bakugou, an angry pout written all over his face. "ya ask me sum dumb question," he began. oh gosh, a dumb question? he's not wrong, but he can't say that to a 5 year old! "katsuki." you muttered, trying to get him to stop. but he kept going anyway.

"but i answered it, right? y'r not being a team player to y'r classmate, buddy." bakugou finished, waiting to see what would happen next. the room fell silent. kenji had listened, handed the microphone to haru. he was still upset though, everyone could see it.

"one minute, haru. kenji," you called out. the boy looked up with fat tears in his eyes. "is there something you want to say to your friend?" kenji wiped his eyes with the back of sleeve and mumbled "sorry." to haru. "is okay." haru accepted happily with a toothy grin.

bakugou leaned back in his chair, feeling satisfied with himself as the questions continued. huh, who knew right? you could get used to this.

when the period was over, bakugou waved goodbye to all the kids. however, he bent down in front of kenji and put his fist out. although the child was still somewhat annoyed, he couldn't hold in his grin as he fist bumped a pro hero. "let's all say 'thank you' to, mr. dynamite!" you stood up from your chair, folding your hands together.

"thank you, mr. dynamite!!"

bakugou kissed your cheek and walked to the door with you following behind. you opened the door and he adjusted his mask quickly. he ruffled your hair. "see ya at home, babe."

a/n: literally so rushed im so sorry i just had this thought and i had to get it out. will for sure be coming back to this later :D

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fangirlandtheories · 9 months

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Do you remember when we used to sing?

Eddie is away on tour while Steve is taking care of their daughter a few hours away. Too bad she can't fall asleep without her special bedtime song...

Steve’s brows pinched together as the cries grew in pitch and volume, almost drowning out the familiar click of ‘Hey it’s Eddie, call me back or don’t, I’m not your mother.’ from the speaker of his phone.

He had shifted from frustrated to desperate as he glanced over at their daughter, red faced and snot nosed. Bedtime was a solid hour past due and didn’t seem to be looming any closer.

“It’s okay, sweets, we’ll call him again.” Steve soothed as he ran a hand down the toddler’s back.

“Daddy!!!” She screamed again, choking with the effort of her sobs, as she squeezed her eyes shut. It had been love at first sight for Eddie and Steve when they had met Rayne’s mother. She was young, just turning 20 in the fall, with curly blonde hair and big brown eyes. She was looking for someone who wanted a baby that couldn’t naturally have their own and the agent connected the dots for them. After several months, little Rayne was theirs.

“I know,” Steve muttered as he pulled up Eddie’s contact again. Eddie had taken a break from touring after the adoption of their daughter but had recently started back up. It started off pretty well, the excitement of getting to have a Dad weekend with Steve pulling her through, but now the newness was gone and all little Rayne Munson-Harrington wanted was Eddie.

Eddie usually found weekend gigs but had found a week long slot in a club in St. Louis that promised great publicity and even better payment, so Corroded Coffin hit the road and Steve held down the fort with some help from Robin and Wayne. They were obligated to babysit, she was named after both of them afterall, and he was grateful because work had been taxing enough without adding a feisty 4 year old to the mix.

A flu bug was sweeping it’s way through Hawkin’s Elementary and it spared no casualties in Steve’s kindergarten classroom. He spent the day trying to keep the class from putting things in their mouths and making sure everyone washed their hands, sending a child or two home after seeing the greenish pale tints of nausea pass over their faces. He knew that he’d have to deal with kids puke at some point, especially as a parent, but he’d like to avoid it at all costs.

“Pick up your phone you ass.” He hissed through clenched teeth, rocking the inconsolable girl in his arms as he dialed again.

***

Eddie first felt the familiar jolt of vibration in his back pocket just after the first chorus. The second time was just a few verses later. He smiled into the microphone as he continued to sing, ignoring his phone. The third time was in the bridge of the song, a particularly terrible time to take a call as Eddie’s hands were preoccupied with his guitar. The fourth time happened in the final notes of the song. The fifth during the applause. Eddie frowned as he pulled the device from his pocket, ignoring a glare from Jeff.

“Hey guys, you won’t believe this but my husband is facetiming me right now. This is like the fifth time he’s called so I’m going to answer, everybody be quiet and let’s see how long it takes him to remember that we had a later show tonight.” Eddie laughed as the audience silenced quickly. Steve’s irritated yet grateful face popped up on the screen seconds later.

“Hey love…” He crooned with a cheeky smirk.

“Your daughter is very upset with you.” Steve ignored the affectionate nickname.

“Why is she my daughter whenever she’s mad?” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Is she alright?”

“She’s been screaming since 8:30 Eds.” Steve ran a hand through his hair and blew out an exasperated sigh. “She’s refusing to sleep until you do it, that’s why I’ve been calling.”

“Steve I’m um…” Eddie glanced nervously at the audience in front of him. “Kind of in the middle of something.”

“Yeah I wanted to be relaxing right now too but our kid needs her dad and since he’s five hours away the very least he could do is sing her the damn song so that we all can get some rest.” Steve squinted at him. “You’re being weirder than usual. Are the guys there with you?”

“Yeah the guys are definitely with me.” Eddie ignored Gareth’s snicker. “Can I call you-”

“Edward, so help me God, sing the song so that she can go to sleep.” Steve interrupted. “Look at her.” Steve turned the camera to the distraught little girl and Eddie’s heart clenched.

“Hi angel, I hear you’re a little sad.” He frowned in solidarity with her as her lip stuck out. “No, don't cry, it’s okay Ray Ray.” She howled louder, tears popping from her wet lashes. He winced as he lip quivered, his resolve wearing down to nothing. He glanced over at Gareth, leaning over to whisper to him before looking back to his phone.

“Alright fine, let’s sing it, yeah?” Eddie placated. “You’re breaking my heart Bambi.” The wide eyes and long lashes practically gifted the nickname to her. He glanced back at Gareth who gave him a thumbs up before looking at the audience. “Daddy’s band is going to help him sing it, is that okay?” Rayne whimpered as she nodded, snuggled into Steve’s arms as he held the phone in front of her.

“Wait, are you on stage right now?” Steve leaned forward. “Shit, I’m sorry babe, I didn’t mean to interrupt the performance.”

“You couldn’t interrupt if you tried.” Eddie smiled. “Isn’t that right?” Steve could hear cheers from the audience. “We love our rock and roll family here and we honor our traditions, most of all the bedtime song. Ready boys? Sing along if you know it, our most honored guest is in the audience tonight and would love to hear you guys.”

With that, Jeff played the opening notes on the guitar while Gareth tapped out the beat with the rarely used tambourine. The bass thumped along to Eddie’s singing, and though it admittedly wasn’t their usual style, the band loved Rayne like she was their niece and they would play anything to make her happy.

“-In the misty morning fog with our hearts a-thumping” Eddie held the microphone in one hand and the phone in the other, beaming at the smile on Steve’s face. “And you, my brown eyed girl.” Rayne giggled and clapped, tears still on her cheeks but sadness having finally passed.

***

Hours and miles away, Steve smiled as he shut the door to his daughter's bedroom, the nightlight softly glowing, as he hummed the song to himself. Tomorrow there would be a series of tweets about Eddie going soft and videos flying all around the internet, but for now, and for the first time that evening, the Munson-Harrington home was quiet.

#steddie #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #steve harrington x eddie munson #oc child character #modern au #rockstar eddie munson #kindergarten teacher Steve Harrington #fanfiction #ficlet #steddie fanfic #my first tumblr fic #please request #always taking requests

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justallihere · 2 months

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I’m drinking a shirley temple out of a coffee mug and thinking so hard about librarian Violet and kindergarten teacher Xaden you have no idea

She’d never seen him wear a color other than black, and today was no exception: he wore black slacks that she wouldn’t mind seeing the back view of with a short-sleeved black shirt. His collar was rolled up on one side a little, but the short sleeves showed off the corded muscles of his arms and the tattoos that covered the left one. It was mostly line work, abstract and smoky curls and wisps of black, but there was the outline of a majestic dragon on the outside of his upper arm that wrapped around his bicep and disappeared beneath his sleeve. Today, said dragon was colored in with sparkly blue marker.

#modern au wip #she needs a name #it’s fine #you guys did this to me #librarian violet x kindergarten teacher xaden

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thesistersarcheron · 1 year

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Pairing: Elriel Rating: E Word Count: ~4.7k Tags: Kindergarten Teacher Azriel, Shibari Artist Elain, Fluff, Smut, Social Media, BDSM, Modern AU Summary: After a messy breakup with her college sweetheart, Elain retreated from her life as a social butterfly, moved home to Velaris, and started a work-from-home career as a shibari artist and a playful, kinky influencer on social media. She’s perfectly comfortable at home, using her earnings from her small online empire to build a greenhouse in her backyard and start a side-hustle as a florist.

But her little sister, Feyre, is eager to get Elain out of hiding—and to set her up with a man who she might cling to for some peace and quiet. However, there’s more than meets the eye to Feyre’s long-time friend and the local kindergarten teacher, Azriel.

And Elain knows it all too well.

Read this fic on AO3!

Azriel Teller was so fucked.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A breath hissed through his teeth as he took one long, final glance at his phone before swiping out of the app he’d been scrolling through and stowing it in his oversized tote—a Teacher’s Friend, the Amazon listing named it. Really, it was a heinous mishmash of faded denim and novelty buttons shaped like pencils and apples, but the abundance of pockets, including one for a supersized water bottle, couldn’t be beat.

Often, Azriel found himself wondering which poor elementary school teacher had to die so the manufacturer could tear her themed rompers out of her cold, dead hands for his bag.

The scent of crayons, Elmer’s glue, and stale coffee assaulted him as he pushed through the small employee entrance at the back of the school. The faded couch in the faculty break room seemed to sag when he passed it with only a small, sidelong glance—the old beast was still standing, at least for today—to toss a crumpled grocery bag full of the odds and ends that made up his lunch into the fridge.

He was pretty sure he’d packed a whole bell pepper, some lo mein that was edging its way past its prime, and a bottle of salad dressing today. Pretty sure, because he hadn’t looked as he packed his lunch. He wasn’t even sure if he had any utensils for the lo mein.

He had been too busy filling his supersized water bottle with cold brew and scrolling through TikTok, as he did every morning.

Azriel couldn’t be certain, but he thought the couch might have groaned in disappointment as he passed it on his way out of the break room

A glance at the watch strapped to his wrist made him pick up his pace. With only ten minutes until the doors opened and kids started flooding in, he needed to at least get the lights on in his classroom and get a video looping mindfulness and affirmations going on the projector.

The Meditation with Miss Gwyn Youtube channel was the only damn thing he knew of that kept twenty-seven five year olds hyped up on maple syrup and sugary cereal bars calm until morning recess.

He made it to his room without incident, sidling past Merrill’s fifth grade class, and dug a hand into his Teacher’s Friend for his keys. The lanyard caught on his wrist, and he pulled, blindly selecting the proper key and shoving it in the lock—

“Az!”

The Spanish teacher strode down the hall toward him with a student perched on his shoulders—Nyx, Rhys’s son. The principal’s son, which was why he got to be the one child in the building before opening hours and not outside with his classmates and the teachers who had the extreme bad luck of pulling morning drop-off duty this month.

Nyx untangled one of his hands from Cassian’s hair and waved. “Hi!”

Azriel folded his hands together behind his back. Calm, cool, and collected—that’s who he was. That’s what he was manifesting for his classroom this morning.

“Hello, Nyx.”

Cassian caught his eye and waggled his brows. “It’s Friday, brother. You up for Rita’s tonight?”

Despite himself, Azriel scowled back.

Cass’s smile sharpened—challenge accepted, it seemed to say—and Nyx dissolved into a gale of laughter as he practically crawled down Cassian’s body to get to Az.

Hopes for a calm day shattering, Azriel still had to swallow down his own amusement; all of his students seemed to think that his penchant for wearing black and frowning deeply at them when they were too rowdy to pay attention to his lessons was the most amusing thing they’d ever seen. It was delightful, even though it turned basic classroom management into a special sort of hell for Az.

Tiny heathens they may be, but he thought the collective sense of humor of five year olds was unmatched.

“Come on.” Cassian unhooked Nyx’s legs from his shoulders and deposited the madly giggling child at Azriel’s feet. He waved a hand down the hall toward the specials classrooms where he and Feyre reigned. “Feyre already talked Rhysie into paying the tab, so you’re coming, like it or not.”

Nyx’s grin turned devilish. “Rhysie.”

Cassian pointed at him, “Don’t tell your dad.”

Nyx shrugged.

It was not a shrug of agreement.

But Cassian was appeased, because he turned back to Azriel.

“Mor will be there,” he crooned, off-tune and off-putting. “Her half-birthday is coming up so she promised to bring those fluffy icing cookies she and Feyre love.”

Once, that would have been enough to light a fire under Az’s ass. He would have gone to Rita’s and stuffed himself with cookies that tasted like some mad scientist decided that sugar and chlorine were a perfect flavor combination if it meant Mor might look at him twice. But now…

“Mm. Lofthouse. My favorite,” he deadpanned. At Cassian’s pointed—and disappointed—look, Azriel shrugged. “I’ll think about it. It’s been a long week.”

He would, too. But he would be thinking about how exhausted he would be after nine hours of wrangling twenty-seven kindergartners without the teacher’s aide the district had been promising him for years now. How his caffeine problem was definitely messing with his ability to sleep through the night. How he just wanted to go home after a long day and load @boundinivy’s blog to see if she posted the video she’d teased that morning on TikTok.

God, he needed to see that video.

A small tug on his belt loop caught his attention.

Azriel looked down.

At his side, Nyx swayed on one foot, one set of small fingers gripping Azriel’s belt loop to help him balance. The other was knuckle deep in his nose as he dug and dug, sniffling and snorting.

Cassian grimaced. “I’ll let you get settled in for the day. Be good, Nyx.”

Azriel sighed through his nose as Cassian clapped him on the shoulder (“I’ll be back to drag you out of here at 3:30!”) and all but sprinted back down the hall, preparing himself for a long, long day as he swiped a box of tissues from the bookshelf just inside the door.

A small voice piped up from knee-level.

“I’ll go if you go.”

Azriel shot his godson a look.

“Neither of us is going.” He kept his face straight as Nyx frowned up at him, inspected the finger that had been in his nose, and stuck it in his mouth. “Mother above, come on, pal. We can treat ourselves better than that.”

With a tight grimace, Azriel returned the tissues to the bookshelf. Nyx was already wiping his finger on his shirt, and Az decided that it was better not to waste such a precious commodity at all when, apparently, the kid preferred alternative methods of booger disposal.

The neon sign in the window of Rita’s Taphouse taunted Elain as the steps up from the metro station spit her out into the middle of Arktos Avenue.

O… P… E… N.

Each flashing letter bathed the slush-damp pavement in a fresh wave of blue light. Each ticked down another second she was late to meet her meddling little sister.

She bit her lip and glanced down at her phone. Half past five—half an hour late.

More than half an hour, she thought, slowly mincing her way across the slick street. Although her sturdy winter boots were suited for the ice and wet, the fluttery skirt of the dress she had been foolish enough to wear beneath her woolen coat was not, nor were her thickly knitted tights.

She shivered at the thought as she edged around a puddle. If her tights got wet, she would rather turn around and go straight home rather than spend an evening with her calves turning into icicles beneath the table, no matter who she was supposed to meet at the bar.

But she made it across the street without incident. With one last, mournful glance at the metro station, she pushed into Rita’s. The handle of the door was so cold it bit into her skin, even through her mittens, and for a moment, she regretted ever agreeing to meet Feyre for an evening out.

“It’s not really my scene,” she’d initially demurred when Feyre called during her lunch break, glancing at the clock half-hidden by her monstrous fiddle-leaf fig. Two o’clock, on the dot—a ridiculously late lunch for an overworked art teacher whose day started at seven.

“Your scene?” Feyre’s voice had been incredulous. “Then what is your scene? Your backyard?”

Elain had blushed and looked down at herself then—at the ropes crisscrossing her torso and the freshly cut flowers she had been in the middle of weaving in beside the intricate rigging of knots and loops when her phone rang.

No, her scene was somewhere decidedly more selective of its clientele than a dive like Rita’s, no matter how discreet the bar’s owner was rumored to be. But it had been years since Elain had patronized the BDSM clubs in Rhodes during college with her ex. If a similar establishment existed in Velaris, she didn’t know of it.

But it wasn’t like Feyre knew that about her. She had never dared tell either of her sisters what she and Lucien had gotten up to all those years when she lived in Day… or the lucky break she’d had at turning it into a work-from-home job when she mustered up the nerve to take a few safe-for-work videos of a harness crafted of ropes and flowers that she was particularly proud of and post them TikTok, only to have them go viral.

It wasn’t that she was ashamed of it, of the fact that, no matter how clean she kept her TikTok account, the content on the subscription-only blog where she posted most of her work veered irrefutably into the territory of sex work. On the contrary, in fact; whenever she logged on, she felt something within her swell with pride that she had managed to turn a passion project into a lucrative, if modestly so, career. Her following was large enough—and generous enough with their monthly gifts—that she had been able to purchase a small house on the outskirts of the city when her relationship broke down. She’d even had enough left over to build a little greenhouse in the backyard, so she could try her hand at growing her own flowers.

But Elain knew that if she ever dared to utter the words “kink influencer,” Nesta wouldn’t wait for an explanation; she would start a fight that might level all of Velaris before turning her sights on Lucien for corrupting her little sister. And although Feyre might appreciate the artistry of it, she was far too nosy not to go digging, and Elain felt herself flush from her hairline down to her toes at the thought of anyone she knew “in real life” seeing some of her more risque riggings.

And, yes, maybe she was a little nervous to admit to them both that all the time she spent studying and mastering her backhand swing to win a tennis scholarship to one of the best colleges in Prythian hadn’t quite panned out in the way she expected. Maybe she had wasted two additional years pursuing a master’s degree in a field she ended up loathing when she was supposed to be a lawyer or a teacher like Nesta and Feyre by now.

She was supposed to have a real job, one that came with health insurance benefits and a retirement account. Something where she could flex her wings like the social butterfly she had been in school and shine.

She wasn’t supposed to be a recluse with a vague job as a content creator that made Nesta’s lips purse and Feyre’s eyes go a bit too soft with concern every time it came up in conversation.

Thus, the phone call.

The line crackled as Feyre sighed into the receiver when Elain didn’t answer. “I’m just worried about you. You moved here to be closer to us, but you holed yourself up in that house and we never see you anymore. I know the breakup was hard, but—”

“Feyre, I’m fine.” She was fine… most days. Elain didn’t know how to infuse her voice with enough pep to convince her sister of it, though. “I told you: I’m not holed up here. I’m just working from home.”

“Are you playing from home too?” Feyre asked, sharp as Nesta could be sometimes.

Elain’s spine stiffened, and she didn’t justify Feyre’s attitude with an answer. The first few months after leaving Lucien last year had been hard, yes. They had been together since high school, and adjusting to life without him after a full decade had been more trying than she anticipated. It had been hard enough, some days, to uncurl her limbs and slink out of bed for a few minutes to eat some instant noodles or wash her hair when the sun sank below the horizon.

But the worst had passed months ago. Elain had picked herself up, throwing herself into building her greenhouse before winter hit, and even Nesta had deemed her well enough to stop coming to check on her every morning before heading to work.

Her little sister let out another long, slow breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you.”

“I know you are. But you don’t need to be. I said I’m fine and I meant it.” Her words were short, clipped, and she regretted them as soon as Feyre made a gentle noise over the phone.

“You’re alone.”

“I am not! I just went to brunch with Nuala and Cerridwen this weekend, and we’re planning to take a girls’ trip to Adriata this summer—”

Nulana and Cerridwen, the twins who worked at the local florist shop where she got all of her flowers while her greenhouse was still a pitiful stack of steel and glass and bags of potting soil, were the best thing that had happened to her since she fled Rhodes.

“Elain!” Feyre exclaimed. “It’s November.”

Ire bit at Elain’s throat, tugging at the tenuous leash keeping it on, and she snapped, “You know, Feyre, we don’t all have to be married with a kid by the time we’re twenty-five to be happy.”

The line went silent, and Elain sagged against her chair. She reached out an idle hand, grasping one of the violets on the table in front of her and pressing her nail against the cut stem until it split.

Married with a baby by twenty-five—that had been her goal once. Once, before Lucien’s world fell apart when his parents split up and a secret father slinked out of the woodwork. He had vowed never to have a child of his own, to never introduce even the possibility of harming one as much as he felt he had been into his life after that, and Elain’s plans had been tipped into the incinerator of his hurt like so much garbage.

“Now I’m the one who’s sorry,” she muttered into the phone. Feyre hummed shortly, and Elain said, “I love Rhys and Nyx with all my heart, you know I do. I’m just… I’m only twenty-seven. I’m not some sad old maid rotting away in this house.”

“Then come out with us tonight. Rhys misses you. Nyx, too.”

“You’re taking Nyx to Rita’s?” Incredulity coated every word, though… Elain could see her wild-hearted sister slipping Nyx into a dark booth quite clearly. The little boy was the only child in their family, and he was so beloved by Feyre’s entire inner circle that Elain knew his presence on one of their nights out would only be celebrated. That he would be pampered and treated like the little adult he sometimes pretended to be, while pride shone out of his every pore simply because he was being included.

“Well, no. He’s staying with Clotho this evening while we’re out. But I’m sure he wouldn’t say no to Aunt Elain dropping by for a hug before bedtime on her way home,” Feyre wheedled. “Come on, Nesta and Cassian are circling each other like sharks and I need you to witness it with me. She keeps trying to drag me into their little spats to defuse the situation, but it’s painfully obvious it’s just foreplay.”

Elain curled the stem of the violet around her little finger. She never could say no to seeing Nyx or Nesta.

A glance out the window revealed the shadows stretching across the snowy rooftops of the city. Darkness fell earlier and earlier every day, and although Elain had once thought the endless winter nights in the north were oppressive, this one seemed to beckon to her now, to beg her not to spend another lonely night puttering about her empty house.

But the thought of going to Rita’s still made something like panic rattle her ribcage.

“Why don’t I just take Nyx tonight? We can go see that new train movie and get some ice cream,” Elain offered.

A muffled bell rang, and Feyre huffed. “We’ve already arranged it with Clotho. Please come with us? Az will be there—you can finally meet him!”

Elain bit her lip.

Az.

Azriel. Her nephew’s godfather, one of her brother-in-law’s two best friends. Her sister’s coworker. It was almost embarrassing that she hadn’t met him yet; he featured in damn near every story Feyre told, and although he was always lingering in the cut-off edges of every photo, he still showed up in every one in three posts Rhys and Cassian made on Instagram.

Not that Elain was keeping count.

Hell, they were even following each other on Instagram, though they had never interacted aside from silently liking one another’s photos. @azriel had popped up in the notifications of her personal account when she posted about a visit with Feyre a few months after Nyx was born. And Elain, curious about who he had to kill to get a first-name-only username, still living hundreds of miles away from her family with Lucien, and desperate for whatever crumbs of her little nephew’s chubby baby cheeks that she could get, had followed back without a single qualm.

And if Elain were a recluse, then Azriel seemed to be a hermit. He only went out when Feyre’s friends dragged him out, it seemed, and only posted when Feyre was the one taking and editing the picture. Elain couldn’t blame him. She doubted any job was nearly as loud or as exhausting as teaching twenty-odd five year olds their ABCs all day long. A little peace and quiet in his own head must be a welcome relief after he went home for the evening.

But on that note… it certainly didn’t hurt that her nephew’s godfather was a drop-dead gorgeous kindergarten teacher—all high cheekbones and sweeping black hair and sweaters stretched over a toned chest and rich, brown skin. Just his passing presence on her feed had enlightened her to the meaning of all those “female gaze” memes floating around the internet.

So Elain did what any self-respecting woman would do when weighing the prospect of meeting a hot man who loved kids and her sister’s husband versus another quiet night at home and said, “Alright. I’ll come. I’ve just got to get some work done before—”

“Yes!” A din of high-pitched voices filled the background on Feyre’s line, and she cawed triumphantly. “Me too! I’ve got a class now. Meet us there at five.”

“Five—?”

“Bye!”

And so Elain had rushed through placing the rest of the flowers in her ropes, filmed the short, playful video about rigging up a macrame holder for small flower pots for indoor plants that she had teased that morning, and edited it in record time.

Shibari really was a fantastically versatile skill, after all, if only one got creative with it.

She could still feel the indentations from the rope on her upper arms when she pushed through the door into Rita’s and busked her hands over her arms, trying to generate some kind of warmth. Her cheeks warmed before the rest of her, and she peered into the happy hour crowd, searching for her family as a small mental war started up between the desire to stay and the growing impulse to run.

But Rhys spotted her before she could come to a decision. His blue-black head of hair swooped down out of nowhere, and he dropped a kiss on her cheek as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. The familiar bulk of him and the comforting salt-and-citrus scent of his cologne drowned out the Top 40 radio station playing over the muffled old speakers and the stale scent of cigarette smoke and beer.

In for seven seconds. Out for four seconds. Elain stole the moment to gather herself, and Rhys, undoubtedly sensing her hesitation in that uncanny way of his, held onto her until she pulled back. When she mustered the courage to look up, his violet eyes were gentle, and when she gave him a tentative smile, he returned it with a handsome grin.

“I’m so glad you could make it, ‘Lain.”

He was so earnest, so polite, that Elain couldn’t help but say, “Me too.”

“Come on, let me take that—” One smooth flick of Rhys’s wrist had Elain turning, and then her blue coat was draped over the crook of her brother-in-law’s arm, her mittens finding a home in his pocket, as he shooed her further into the bar. “—and you go find your sisters. We’re in our usual booth. Cass and I were just grabbing drinks for everyone.”

“Your usual?” It seemed impossible that the massive bulk of Cassian could hide behind anyone, but he slid out from behind Rhys with a small, considerate smile playing on his lips. “Vodka cran?”

Elain let out a shaky breath, and just the thought of a little alcohol in her bloodstream had her nervous limbs loosening. “Yeah. Yeah, why not?”

“Excellent!” Cassian rustled a hand over her hair, clapping her on the shoulder. “Follow the trail of ice and you should find Nes.”

“Oh, Cassian, don’t bait her.”

Cassian made a face and pointed at one of the nearby speakers. It wasn’t nearly loud enough to justify the way he cupped a hand to his ear and shouted, “What? I can’t hear you!”

Elain pressed her lips together to hide her smile, shaking her head at him, and began winding her way through the crush of bodies once he and Rhys disappeared into it, sidestepping a couple already swaying drunkenly to the music. A tattooed hand broke the surface of the small sea between them, and Elain’s shoulders dropped as she quickened her pace, cutting through a small crowd of red-haired men that looked too much like her ex for comfort.

“Elain! Over here!”

Feyre met her halfway, liberally applying her elbows to the crowd. She wrapped Elain in a crushing hug, walking backwards with her arms still wrapped around her sister. “Just a few more steps,” she muttered, as if she could tell that Elain wasn’t comfortable with the press of bodies around her.

They slipped out of the crowd and into the booth in record time, and Feyre ushered Elain in without a backward glance to her husband.

Nesta and Morrigan sat at the table across from her, a plastic tray of grocery store cookies half-hidden by a massive, stylish tote back spread between them. Elain dropped her small purse on the table beside it as Nesta blinked at her, her cool blue eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Hello, everyone. Are these for the table?”

Elain carefully ignored the way Nesta’s mouth thinned into a straight line, sending her elder sister a small smile as she reached for the cookies. She wouldn’t say no to sweets, or to the helpful distraction they provided, but the furtive glances Mor was throwing at the bar seemed to hint that they weren’t quite allowed in Rita’s bar.

But the tray was just out of reach, and her fingertips only grazed its outer rim. A male arm slipped out of the shadows of the booth beside her, a hand mottled with scars that stretched and shone in the low light reaching further than she could, and—

Elain froze.

That hand.

She knew that hand.

Like a boiling kettle had been poured over her head, mortified heat sank down from her cheeks to her chest.

Oh, gods.

Ages ago—it had been ages ago that she’d first seen it. The small, independent gallery on the edge of Rhodes’ arts district hadn’t been her scene then either, but she had gone to take a few photos for Feyre during her freshman year. It was supposed to be some kind of proof, she supposed, that life got better after graduating high school and moving out of their father’s run-down cottage in the foothills bordering Velaris.

But when she’d arrived…

When she’d arrived, the gallery had been full of sharp, strange angles and harsh lines and so, so much red and black. Inside, wooden crosses shining with gold leaf took up half the floor, and shredded tapestries had been twisted and woven strange, short benches scattered throughout the floor. One small room had been entirely dark until she walked in and a spotlight shone on her, blinding her to the small crowd waiting to follow her path through the room one-by-one as the attendant at the door instructed.

Lucien had ushered her through the entire exhibit, laughing at the way she turned pink and wide-eyed every time she caught sight of something new, and when they finally got to a wall of black-and-white photographs, Elain had relaxed…

Until she saw the ropes.

So many ropes, wound sensually around nude bodies that, even now, she blushed to think about. Each and every one was knotted into the shape of a hand somehow—a massive, grey hand spanning a woman from shoulder to hip, covering her breasts entirely and leaving the rest of her exposed. A gentle hand of black rope cupping the jaw of a man whose face was etched with ecstasy. A possessive white one, grasping a lush female backside with such force the ropes dug into her soft curves. Dozens of examples, lined up like soldiers in two neat lines.

And then one photograph, the final and smallest photograph on the wall—two viciously scarred hands, knotted and marled and wound in rope like some sort of medical brace. Like some sort of tool that only those hands could make use of, some special device only their owner could make sense of.

She knew then that she would never be able to tell Feyre about this gallery. That she would have to find something else, somewhere else, and never share what was on show at the first exhibit she went to: the famously anonymous Shadowsinger’s shibari art.

By that time, Elain had been reduced to clenching her thighs together to fight off the growing heat between them as she made her way down the line. Every blink of her eyelids was an effort; every breath seemed thick, heavy with some sort of anticipation, and Lucien—

Lucien had gently walked her through every other exhibit, but the photos… Elain had been captivated. Gods, she hadn’t even known what those intricate, intimate ropes meant then. She’d read it the name of the display off of a small placard on the wall next to the photograph of the scarred hands several times before she made any sense of it and hastily jotted it down in her Notes app as her boyfriend’s fingers began to wander, his voice turned teasing in her ear, undoubtedly sensing her interest.

She had gone home and typed that beautiful, strange word into the search bar on her laptop and it had all been over for her.

And now those scarred fingers twitched on top of the table beside the cookies, and Elain lifted her own hand to her mouth.

Beside her, Feyre coughed, the sound awkward and uncomfortable, and the mottled hand slid away into the shadows beneath the table as Elain finally looked up, finally met the shadowed hazel eyes of the man they belonged to, and said to Azriel stupidly,

“Oh, but I always thought your hands were so beautiful.”

And that’s what you call a bait-and-switch.

Anyway, happy Elriel Month! Here’s my small, unhinged contribution Please expect one chapter a week, plus a short epilogue.

#elain #azriel #elrielmonth2023 #elriel month 2023 #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my fics #glitch #kindergarten teacher azriel #influencer elain #modern au #smut #fluff #acotar fics #a court of thorns and roses fic #azriel shadowsinger #elain archeron

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bruciemilf · 1 year

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thoughts on bruce working with kids? like a kindergarten teacher, working in an orphanage, or a pediatrician,, cause i honestly adore it!!! somebody pls give the man a baby

Kindergarten teacher Bruce is so cute!! I can see him collecting and framing cards and drawings from his students. Of course the batkids see it as competition and suddenly everyone's Da Vinci lmaooo

#bruce wayne #asks #dc #batfamily #sorry for the short response am still angy #from earlier not at this!!!#absolutely adorable ask #au where bruce is jon or kons kindergarten teacher and clark falls in love deep

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gamer-paramnesia · 5 months

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omg

sunny is totally young-kid-thats-only-in-a-private-school-bc-their-parent-works-there-and-therefore-goes-there-for-free-but-gets-jealous-easily-and-wants-to-get-status-symbol-items core

#qsmp #am i projecting? only god knows #but not really #also heres how physics/kindergarten teacher tubbo can win #hold on theres a modern au cooking here....#fred as a supervisor at a large corporation? idk

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pollyna · 2 years

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au in which Slider gets a gym from his uncle and it has a ring in the middle, Carole does the books and throw some mean punches when she wants and Goose finds new stars and takes his hot babes to matches and everybody would like not to do business with them (that queers) but they're too good for their own and the community loves them.

(Ice is an ex champion with enough under his belt to still be the best of the best and Maverick appears in front of the gym a Monday morning, his bike and a dishonorable discharge from the Navy on his papers. Hollywood and Wolf have a little bakery at the end of the street and it's between their tables they all meet. Slider needs a new coach, Ice a work, Mav a meaning and Goose says their home isn't the biggest but they can find space for two other people. Bradley takes a single look at them, at Ice and Mav, and proclaims he likes them. Not as much as his dads but he likes them.)

And so the story unfoldes itself.

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hawkeykirsah · 1 year

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Here’s the second fill for my Alternative Professions @codywanbingo card! It’s a sequel to my first fill, so it’s a Modern AU with Kindergarten Teacher Cody but this time focusing on Obi-Wan’s alternative profession.

Or, Cody takes his class on a field trip.

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Commander Cody Prompt: Biologist Words: ~800 Rating: T (for some innuendo)

Fic and card under the cut!

��I’m not sure where to take my class on our field day,” Cody admitted, poking at his dinner, “I have a few ideas but I need to decide soon.”

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, clearing his throat, “if you bring them to the aquarium I’ll try to be available as a guide.”

Cody shot him a look. “I thought you said you were a biologist?”

“Mm,” Obi-Wan hummed, the corners of his mouth curling upward, “I am. A marine biologist working at the local aquarium.” Cody blinked at him, and Obi-Wan continued, shrugging with one shoulder, “Granted, I usually do more work with high school students but I have done guided tours for grade school students, too. Kindergarteners will be a new challenge, though.”

Cody stared at him, stunned. “You work at the aquarium.”

“Mhm.”

He watched a smile spread across Cody’s face and knew fairly certain where his boyfriend (he still wasn’t quite used to thinking of him in this way, things were still so new) was going to take his class.

“Just give them the goriest details and they’ll all love you forever,” Cody said, grinning at him. “You’d be surprised at how bloodthirsty five year olds are. And you,” he added, leaning over to kiss Obi-Wan, ”are a lifesaver.”

“Are you still hungry?” Obi-Wan asked when Cody pulled back slowly, heat stirring low in his gut.

Cody glanced down at his mostly empty plate. “I think I’m ready for dessert,” he replied, a sudden rasp to his voice, moving around the table and capturing Obi-Wan’s lips in another kiss.

Obi-Wan watched the children filter into the aquarium in pairs, pointing excitedly at some of the exhibits. A warm wave of fondness spread through him as Cody called his group to gather round. He glanced at his reflection in the glass of one of the fish tanks, ran his hand through his hair once, and stepped out to meet them, ignoring the quiet laughter of his colleagues.

Luke and Leia spotted him immediately, faces lighting up, ready to rush his way. He shook his head quickly. The twins deflated slightly but stayed put. Cody must have noticed their fidgeting because he turned around, eyes and smile so warm when he spotted Obi-Wan.

“Welcome to the local aquarium!” Obi-Wan said, tearing his gaze away from Cody and letting it sweep over the cluster of children instead. “My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi and I am your guide today. Now, have any of you kids ever been here before?”

There were calls of yes—the twins among the loudest—but also quite a few who shook their heads shyly.

“Those of you that have been here before, can you tell me your favorite animals here?”

He wasn’t especially surprised that sharks seemed to be the predominant answer but there were others as well, such as seals and otters and one kid that said lobsters.

He nodded along, “Those are all great choices! And what do you think, will we find favorite sea creatures for those of you that haven’t been here before?” Another chorus of yes calls met him. “Yeah, I think so, too. You know why?” They shook their heads, rapt with attention. He lowered his voice to a loud, conspiratorial whisper, “Because sea creatures are freaking cool, that’s why. But! Before we go, we have two big rules here, and they’re really important: Don’t Tap the Glass and Don’t Throw Things in the Enclosures. Now, are we ready?”

Obi-Wan met Cody’s gaze over the heads of the class. He set off as soon as Cody nodded his approval, motioning for the group to follow him to their first stop.

“Well, Mr. Fett,” Obi-Wan said quietly, sidling up to him after the end of the tour, “did you see your favorite marine animal, too?” He was pretty sure he’d won a few new admirers for his beloved cephalopods among the children.

Cody shook his head in mock disappointment, “No, I didn't see a single flying fish. But maybe you can make it up to me later on,” he added, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Mm, I’m sure I can manage that.” Obi-Wan murmured, looking over at where the second teacher and the young students stood waiting for Cody to join them. He leaned forward, brushing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Seven o’clock at mine, darling.”

Cody turned his head quickly for another kiss and said, voice low, “Yes, I’ll see you tonight,” before making his way over to his class. And Obi-Wan stood rooted in place, watching him corral his class onto the bus with a soft smile on his face. He knew he was in for a bit of teasing from his colleagues but he really didn’t care.

He simply looked forward to spending his evening with Cody.

#codywan #codywanbingo #fanfiction #ficlet #modern au #Kindergarten Teacher Cody #Marine Biologist Obi-Wan #hawk writes #my writing

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xamaxenta · 2 years

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Idk theres something so sexy about modern au Sabo being a lawyer, like he’s always dressed up in a nice suit, eyebags for days, but his gaze is very piercing despite the air of sleepiness he brings about often, he’s just a large predator cat lounging bc he knows he’s good at what he does and so do his enemies (yknow he would rock dat high profile lawyer who does murder cases shit)

But also Sabo hunched over a computer, expression hinging on a fury why’s he angry? He just is, angry abt the victims ofc and would do anything to help the dead rest peacefully, hes gotta go get his blood pressure checked tbh

Just intense no fucking around Sabo having two major facets the work facet and his home facet and his home facet is a complete 180, he’s just happy to see Ace 🥺

#saboace #modern au #burning elmo meme and Ace as always is a kindergarten teacher OR hes a firefighter #and im CRYING IN DIS CHILIS

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justallihere · 2 months

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Hi bestie,

the school librarian x kindergarten teacher has now become my brain rot and I'm thinking of so many potential scenarios/conversations

Idk if you've seen those tik toks where kids ask their teacher the most out-of-pocket questions like Are you married? Are you going to marry Miss Violet, why are you so old, etc

or if its Christmas time X: What presents would you get for someone you care about? and the kids are like "Better style bc all you wear is black and hearing aids bc you're old Mr Xaden" LMAO

Imagine a kid who gets easily overstimulated and likes to hide away in the library since its quiet and Xaden is frantically looking for this missing child and is ready to go mama bear to find this kid

imagine a career day and Violet asks her siblings to come help, Brennan is a surgeon, Mira is in the AirForce and they try to intimidate Xaden bc he's dating their baby sister 😭

No like it’s taken over my life 😭 I’ve got it and SITQ both open and I’ve just been flipping back and forth all day

Xaden would be so good with kids, he’s for sure the type of person to talk to five year olds like they’re grown adults and they LOVE it. They love him. They call him Mr. X and he constantly has at least one child holding his hand. One look and they stop doing whatever bad thing they’re not supposed to be doing. When they do crafts and the kids don’t want to take them home they all march down to the library and give them to Miss Vi and of course she loves the art and has a whole wall dedicated to it but she’s also glaring over their heads at him for bringing all this GLITTER around her BOOKS. He bugs her during lunch or his free period and puts away the books on the shelves she’s too short to reach and walks her to her car at the end of the day. Also he sneaks his dog in sometimes, and Sgaeyl is a perfectly behaved angel who always seems to know exactly which kid is having a bad day and she sits next to them. Xaden tries to set up doggy play dates between her and Tairn and Andarna and Violet won’t agree because she thinks he’s just teasing her

And yes, the kids know he has the world’s biggest, most pathetic crush on Violet

Some nosy-ass kid: “Are you married to Miss Violet?”

Xaden: “buddy if I was married to Miss Violet you’d know”

#modern au wip #librarian violet x kindergarten teacher xaden

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mykingdomforasong · 2 years

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I think what’s missing from the dinluke conversation is the distinction and connection between individual actions vs fandom culture. Someone putting Luke in a dress or exploring gender nonconformity through his character is not a problem, but it is a problem when it trickles through fandom and becomes codified as “Luke is The Woman, Din Is The Man.” Someone writing non-con alone is not a problem, but, again, when it becomes influenced by ethnicity and codified as “Din is a violent abuser who craves power over Luke,” it becomes a problem. It’s why these discussions feel so personal to people and why things get so vitriolic.

And it’s not to take away personal responsibility either, I think it just means that it’s extra important that we all step back and understand how we and others are contributing, and try to look at the complexities, rather than implying that “Luke in a dress is bad” because that doesn’t help anyone. People who dislike these trends will see any depiction of something that reminds them of the greater problem and assume it’s bad without a second glance, meanwhile people who like these trends will remain convinced that what they’re doing isn’t bad because they don’t mean it. Nobody understands each other, and nobody wins.

What’s lacking is the understanding that culture IS bigger than any one of us, but we all do contribute to it and have to take responsibility for how it affects queer people and people of color.

(This isn’t directed at you, this is just avenue to share my thoughts, thank u for listening)

Yeah, I think that's an excellent way to describe it.

Every time someone writes or draws gnc Luke, they have not Done a Heteronormativity, so to speak. The issue is, as you pointed out, how things become fandom trends.

When things become widely accepted fanon, it's often like looking at your faves through a fun house mirror. Like, I recognize that that's suppose to be Luke, but it's very distorted. I think why dark!DinLuke tends to be so at the center of all these debates is that those fics are where the distortion is the most obvious and most consistent. It's easy to point at those fics and say "this group of fics is engaging in anti-Latino prejudice and homophobic heteronormativity." I think that's true, but I also think that we should avoid implying that if they went away, we'd have some utopian fandom space.

It's really easy for fanon interpretations to subliminally seep into our brains and affect how we think about these characters, because it's easier to read a few fanfics every week than to constantly rewatch the OT and The Mandalorian. Fanon characterizations tend to flatten the characters down to a few key traits, they are often subject to bias and prejudice, and because they develop somewhat slowly, they are often accepted by the majority of fans and reproduced.

I don't think the answer for the individual creator is to sit there anxious about everything they create and its potential impact (although some self reflection never hurts). Just think of your characters as complex people rather than fandom tropes or in terms of sexual roles. And also maybe rewatch the Original Trilogy once and a while. It's pretty good

#a good example was the early trend of mechanic din and kindergarten teacher luke which briefly became the fanon accepted modern au jobs #dinluke #and again #i am not saying gnc or trans hc are bad!#i would be a profound hypocrite if that were the case #I also do not consider myself immune to these issues or criticism

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