#high school au

[murkyabominationgremlin]

i loved the style of the art you made for @that1chaospotato and would love to see the ASS trio from stardew (Abigail, Sebastian, and Sam) in that style!

ANON I’M SO FUCKIN SORRY DUDE I FORGOT-

here’s the art i started when i got the ask, and an UPDATED version will be coming soon!!

[exxyliah]

High School au lore :D

Theo hates Clownpierce because he thinks that Clown is a bully. I think Clown hates people but doesn't really yell at them. He just avoids everyone and only gets physical or verbal when someone tries to provoke him.

Because of Ferre's training, Clown can and will take on people older and bigger than him. This leads to Clown being in detention a lot.

-the rambler

Theo and clown would butt heads because they both think each other are pretentious pricks. Everyone thought clown was just another quiet kid at the back of the class trying to act all mysterious and cool until one day some random guy verbally provoked him stupidly, and got his ass beat.

Clown has the silent rage against strangers, only loud rage against those he is close with (i.e. Ferre <3 )

He’s probably in detention basically every other day. The only times he would avoid punching back and not get into detention would be when he has scheduled gang stuff or drug dealing

[alricardus]

Dogberry: the answer is gen z! *the watch bros celebrate* The Chemistry teacher: ...you mean benzene?

[fashnik3]

───────── Don’t Stand so Close to Me

───────── a masterlist

Dennis Whitaker is a senior at Broken Bow High School with aspirations of being a doctor. His parents would rather he stay working on the farm or go into ministry. The course of his fate is changed when he begins an affair with two separate teachers at his school. The mechanics teacher Mr. Robinavich, and the Chemistry teacher Dr. Abbot.

i. A sort of proposal

ii. The beginning

[smileyfacefries22]

Gillion Tidestrider, Champion of the Football, Quarterback of the Deep

[fashnik3]

Don’t Stand So Close to Me- Part 2

Dennis Whitaker is a senior at Broken Bow High School with aspirations of being a doctor. His parents would rather he stay working on the farm or go into ministry. The course of his fate is changed when he begins an affair with two separate teachers at his school. The mechanics teacher Mr. Robinavich, and the Chemistry teacher Dr. Abbot.

Posting this story in a non-linear format. Dropping us off in different spots in the timeline based on what I’m willing to write in the moment. This is how I’m fighting my writers block.

The Beginning

Whitaker, Dennis. Huh. There’s a name Dr. Jack Abbot never expected to find on his AP Chemistry roster. Jack had taught all three of the elder Whitaker boys in his freshman environmental science class, and to say the surname didn’t inspire much hope for the new generation would be an understatement. They weren’t bad kids, just not bright. Not AP material.

It was surprising to Jack that he’d managed not to encounter the youngest Whitaker in all his time at Broken Bow High. Jack wasn’t the only science teacher. It wasn’t a stretch that by some coincidence the boy had gotten Shen for all his previous science classes. But even then, the Whitaker boys were boisterous, and well-known school-wide for their antics. For a Whitaker to fly under the radar like this was unheard of.

Jack knew he could ask Mr. Shen about the boy, but he could think of someone else he preferred to ask, someone who might better understand his curiosity.

Jack left his paperwork scattered across the lab table, and stood up. His footsteps echoed through the empty halls of the school. There was a peacefulness to the bare walls and freshly waxed linoleum floors with their stubborn, decades old scuffs, and the silence.

If he listened very, very carefully, he could hear the other teachers milling about in their own classrooms, stapling bulletin borders, and hanging up posters, but mostly it was pure silence. That changed as he neared the garages at the back of the campus, across from the senior student parking lot.

Springsteen blared from the bulky old radio Robby had lugged into the garage when he first set up shop in Broken Bow nearly two decades ago. The static screech of the guitar made Jack’s bad ear ring painfully for the barest of seconds as he pushed through the heavy metal door.

Robby watched as Jack tugged at his own earlobe, and mercifully slid across the floor on the wheels of his stool to turn the volume dial down. Jack gave an appreciative nod as Robby swiveled on the stool to face him.

“Dr. Abbot, what brings you down to the dungeons?” Robby smiled up at him.

“You taught the Whitaker boys.”

Robby cocked his head to the side with a laugh as he wheeled his stool back to the side of one of the tool carts he’d been taking inventory on. “All four of them,” he confirmed.

“So, you knew there was a fourth one?”

Robby stopped counting drill bits. “Dennis Whitaker. He’s a junior now, I think. First got him as a freshman for my Intro Automotive Service class. Quickly became apparent that he’d fit in better with my sophomores in Auto 2.“ Robby recalled.

“Not so abnormal. All the Whitakers have taken those classes. He probably picked up a thing or two from the older ones,”Jack postulated.

“Yeah, sure. But none of them finished the lot in a single school year. Only one ever attempted my Agricultural Mechanics class, and he flunked out of it. Dennis is taking Ag-Mech 2 this semester,” Robby pointed out.

Jack took off his glasses and set them on top of his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I’ll bet Joseph is happy to finally have a son that can service the equipment. Cheap as he is.”

“He’d say frugal. Sounds more virtuous that way,” Robby agreed. “So is that what you came here for? To get a read on baby Whitaker?”

“Yeah, get this. He’s in my AP chem.” Robby’s mouth opened then shut. He tilted his head to the left in a sort of shrug.

“Yeah, that tracks actually,” Robby admitted. “Kid’s sharp. Quiet. Hungry for knowledge.”

“Nothing like his brothers,” Jack chuckled, shook his head, and placed his hands on his hips.

“In quite a few ways,” Robby hummed absently as he returned his attention to his tools. Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah? How?” He asked.

Robby just laughed. “It’ll be more fun for you to see for yourself. Wouldn’t wanna spoil your new favorite.”

“You’re so sure of that?” Jack scoffed.

“Oh yeah. Definitely.”

The first bell had barely finished ringing when Dr. Jack Abbot walked into Room 214 carrying a stack of blue folders and a coffee mug.

He put the folders on the front desk, set his coffee beside them, and looked around the classroom, scanning the faces of students, some familiar, some not.

“Good morning. I’m Dr. Abbot. Jack is fine. Definitely Doctor Abbot if admin is observing.”

A few students smiled.

Jack picked up the attendance sheet.

“I also teach Environmental Science here, so some of you may know me already. For those who had Mr. Shen, my condolences, I can’t win them all.” Jack droned.

A short huffed laugh sounded off from the center of the room. Jack’s eyes followed the sound to its source.

A young man with a mop of curly, mousy blonde-brown hair sat alone at a two person table with his notebook open in front of him. The smile he tried to hide behind a quickly feigned cough had such a boyish charm, he could easily be mistaken for fourteen if Jack didn’t know better. The resemblance was unmistakable when you looked into his eyes.

“Whitaker. Dennis, right?” Jack asked, already checking the name off on his attendance sheet.

Dennis seemingly slumped his shoulders forward and slid down in his chair, making himself shorter. He looked up at Jack timidly and nodded.

“Right. Thank you for the reminder. Attendance.” Jack rattled through the list, pacing the rows and putting names to faces as he checked each one off.

When he returned to the white board Jack moved on He picked up one of the blue folders.

“The first thing I want you to understand is that AP Chemistry moves quickly. We cover a lot of material, and I expect you to keep up with it. The course is organized around six major units: atomic structure and properties, molecular and ionic compound structure, intermolecular forces and properties, chemical reactions, kinetics and thermodynamics, and equilibrium. We'll finish the year with acids and bases and applications of thermodynamics and electrochemistry.”

Jack passed the folders to the students ambitious enough to sit up front and instructed them to pass them back.

“The syllabus has the unit schedule, grading policy, lab expectations, and the list of materials you'll need. Keep it. I don't put information in here just to make the folder heavier.”

Students began flipping through the pages.

Jack walked slowly between the desks. “Your grade will be based on tests, quizzes, laboratory work, homework, and classwork. Tests will make up the largest portion. That's deliberate. The AP exam is timed, and practice makes perfect.”

He stopped near the windows.

“Labs are also important. Chemistry is not just a collection of equations. You'll be expected to make observations, collect data, analyze errors, and explain what your results mean. Sometimes the experiment will work exactly as expected. Sometimes it won't. That's normal.”

Dennis was reading the syllabus carefully, scribbling notes in the margins. Jack took a second to observe the little abbreviations and symbols and mentally attempt to decipher their meaning before returning to the front.

“There's one other thing I want to emphasize.”

The room quieted.

“Ask questions.”

Several students looked up.

“I don't care if you think the question is obvious. Especially stupid ones. They're usually less stupid than you think. If you don't understand something, there's a good chance somebody else doesn't either. Chemistry builds on itself. If you don't understand one idea, the next three tend to become considerably more unpleasant.”

A few students laughed. Jack smiled briefly and continued.

“There's also a tutoring period listed on the syllabus. I'll be available most afternoons. If you're struggling, come see me before you're completely lost. It's much easier to fix a small problem than a semester's worth of them.”

He turned to the board and wrote his email address. “Email is fine for quick questions. Don't send me a message at midnight expecting an immediate answer. I am a teacher, but I am also a person who occasionally sleeps.”

That earned another small laugh.

Jack looked back toward the class. “Any questions about the syllabus?”

A few students shook their heads.

Jack nodded. “All right. Then let's make a start.”

He opened the textbook, and watched as the students scrambled to pick out the textbook from under their seats and follow along.

“Our first topic is atomic structure. Before we get into electron configurations, I want to make sure everyone is comfortable with the basic vocabulary.”

He wrote ATOM on the board.

“Everything in chemistry starts here.”

As he began explaining protons, neutrons, and electrons, Jack noticed Dennis had already started taking notes. His handwriting was small and precise. Legible in a way the Whitaker script never was.

Eventually after making the rounds again, Jack returned to his desk, sitting for the first time the entire class session.

“Last thing’s last. Your exit ticket. I want you to write your name, and the song that’s been stuck in your head most recently on a sheet of paper and turn it in. It’ll help me confirm attendance and get to know you better.” Jack explained.

He watched as a few students stopped and thought about their answer for longer than necessary, maybe trying to pick something less embarrassing than the truth, before finally scribbling something down.

As the bell rang and students began filing out, leaving their exit papers on his desk, he scrolled through his phone absently. When the last student left he picked up the stack of notebook papers and skimmed through them.

Dennis Whitaker:

I’d Rather Be With You by Bootsy Collins.

Where the hell did this kid come from?

[hawks-flat-ass]

“You opened your grade,” Aizawa said. “Yes,” Keigo replied, voice light and polite. “I apologize for the poor showing. I’ll increase my study hours at home.” “You won’t,” Aizawa said flatly. He dropped his pen into a container and looked up. His dark, bloodshot eyes locked onto Keigo—the same terrifying focus that made every student in 2-B want to crawl under their desks and every player on the pitch suddenly hyper-aware of their own breathing. “You just ran three kilometers of high-intensity drills looking like you were holding yourself together through sheer willpower. If you add three hours of English memorization on top of whatever wall you’re hitting, you’re going to collapse.” Keigo’s smile didn’t slip. It was too practiced. But his fingers twitched behind his back. “I can handle it, sir.” “I didn’t ask if you could handle it,” Aizawa said, pulling an index card from his drawer. “I said you won’t. Your foster family called the principal twenty minutes ago. They asked us if we had mitigation steps. If your retake score does not hit sixty-five, they want us to intervene.” A steady smile stayed plastered on Keigo’s face, even as his molars ground together. His foster parents hadn’t issued threats or ultimatums. But they didn’t need to; asking Aizawa to step in achieved the same result. The snare had pulled taut all the same. “I need to pass the retake,” Keigo said, dropping the pretense and meeting Aizawa’s eyes. “Whatever it takes. I can’t lose my spot on the team.” Aizawa studied him for a long moment. No sympathy. No lecture. He leaned back, tapping the index card against his thumb. “You know,” Aizawa said, thoughtful. “Thirty-two. You submitted every assignment—late, but submitted. Your homework average was a sixty-eight. Barely passing. Then you sit down for the diagnostic and write forty-seven words.” Keigo said nothing, but his gaze fell solemnly. “I read them,” Aizawa said. “The words you did write? They were good.” Silence. “You’re not failing because you can’t do the work,” Aizawa continued. “You struggle, but that’s not the reason. You’re failing because you’re frozen. That’s a different problem.”

Spring Training - Chapter 3: The Red Mark - {Read Here}

ℹ️Fic Metadata:  Rating: Teen & Up | Pairing: Hawks x Dabi |  Genres: slow burn, high school sports au, unreliable narrator Series placement: 1/4 | Word Count: 8,111 | Chapters: 3/?? (est 42)

⛔CWs: Academic Stress, Anxiety, Body Discomfort, Chronic Pain, Compression Garments, Emotional & Social Masking, Foster Care, Implied Past Trauma, Parental Pressure, Perfectionism, Physical Pain, Queer Protagonist, Sleep Deprivation, Tension Headaches, Threat of Disqualification, Underaged Smoking / Tobacco Use, Wing Binding