sophie's really pretty

anonymous asked:


(purely aesthetic appreciation of looks) - “Sophie is really pretty! “

(how close a friend they consider them) - “ She is pretty nice to me, hopefully we can meet more often”

(wanting to have sex with them) - “Not really into humans…and women.. sorry Sophie”

(hoping for a romantic relationship) - “ Only would use her for cuddles!!” -Evil laugh-

💔 Non-existent
💗 Very low
💗💗 A little
💗💗💗 Hopeful
💗💗💗💗 High
💗💗💗💗💗 Maximum

Physical Education

New multi-part Omelia fic. AU. Owen teaches at an all girls, posh, private school in London, and the new biology teacher catches his attention…

“Sir,” a young girl called out, “I’ve finished my drawing!”

“Bring it up then Natalie,” Owen Hunt told her, barely looking up from his novel- a story involving a female serial killer. “If you’ve finished you can get on with any other homework you have girls.”

The teenagers, one by one, finished and took their drawing to the teacher’s desk. Soon, they were bored of finishing homework, and they collectively decided initiate a conversation with their teacher.

“Mr Hunt, where is Miss Roper today?”

“She’s sick Sally,” he answered about the missing art teacher. “Work.”

“Are you qualified to teach us art?”

“Well, Sophie, considering all my qualifications are in sports and physical education, what do you think?” Owen grumbled.

“Sir, are you any good at art?” Ali, a particularly chatty student asked him.

“No, but you girls all seem to be. Well done. Now, homework, go!”

“But sir, it’s the beginning of term- we’ve not really got any homework…” Ali admitted.

“OK, well, read then,” he suggested, holding his book up in mid-air to demonstrate what a book actually was.

“How long have you been in London Mr Hunt?” Millie, a clever but disruptive student asked, cottoning on to the conversation idea. The American accent had always puzzled the girls and a variety of reasons for his move to the UK had done multiple rounds of gossip amongst the students at Grace Secondary Girls’ School.

“Erm, about four years, why?”

“Why did you come here?” Millie prodded further.

“For my family,” he answered.

“But sir, you’re not English,” Ali scoffed. “Surely your family is American?”

“No, my wife was English.”

“Are you MARRIED?!” Millie gasped. “How come we never knew?! You’ve been our sports teacher for three years and you never told us!”

“Firstly, I was married. Secondly, I wasn’t aware that you were entitled to my entire private life story Millie,” he chuckled.

“So you’re not married?” Sally asked.


“Sir, have you met the new biology teacher?” Sophie wondered, sounding more interested than usual.

“No, why?” Owen frowned.

“Oh, no reason really… she’s American like you, that’s all. I thought perhaps you knew her…”

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