#hopefully the other teacher will make him aware of it too

[minglana]

going to exam revision, light some candles, cross some fingers, pray, etc for me😭😭😭

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof!Alex Turner X Stud!Reader (Smut) Part 1 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9.3K

a/n: Be aware that it's a smut but it has a whole context, so it's long. There are changes of the next parts being more smuts, this part was assembled around how they feel in front of each other and what they make the other feel. It is important to point out that I'm not native of the language, it is likely that there are some errors, but hopefully few because I try to be careful. In addition, I hope you enjoy!

You were nervous; it was difficult to digest what he was explaining when all you seemed to notice in class was the timbre of his voice. As hours passed, his accent seemed to grow stronger and huskier, not to mention how he had taken off his blazer within the first few minutes and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. You couldn't quite tell whether you were enjoying the subject matter due to its inherent interest or whether it was him who had become your focus of interest.

You found the buttons on his white shirt alluring, the warmth adhering to his skin, and the occasionally tousled hair being lazily brushed away from his eyes exuded a charm. Watching him was intriguing; at some point, you had tried to avoid such distractions, but realizing your failure, you allowed yourself to be swept away completely.

"Did you hear me?" He asked a bit louder, trying to get your attention. He hadn't shouted; he never did. You were immersed in him, yet couldn't grasp the meaning of the disjointed words he had gestured. However, the movements of his restless hands and the prominent veins when he placed them on his waist had etched themselves into your memory. If someone requested, you could depict his fingers in oil on canvas.

"I'm sorry," you shook your head, waiting for him to repeat, as he often did with everyone else. He studied you more closely, even from a distance, his hands tucked in his pockets and your breath catching slightly. He didn't often make direct eye contact with students, maybe with no one. He was somewhat reserved, and it was evident that lecturing for hours wasn't quite his natural disposition. You found the stumbling over words and how he would look out the window or shift his gaze when someone met his eyes rather appealing. You feared that you had been thinking about him for so long that you had built up an image of him beyond what he could actually be.

However, he held his dark eyes on you, offering a gentle smile, a touch relaxed as if he had expected that from you, and playfully continued, "Well, I didn't expect that from you. I must have been mistaken in thinking you're a great one." He carried on with the lecture as your cheeks began to burn. Perhaps his not-liking for you was part of his nature too.

…

You couldn't bear for him not to like you. Not until the end of the semester; you considered his subject crucial for your repertoire. He just couldn't dislike you. Some nights were spent awake, but you were certain your paper was well-written, and your readings for his class were up to date; any question he might ask, you'd know the answer to. Your seat in the classroom was always the same, out of habit. Honestly, if you had known the distraction and nervousness that Mr. Turner would cause you, you would have opted for seats further back for your own good. But now it was too late, and besides, you needed a good grade in his class.

He was wearing a light blue blazer, a shirt with a few buttons open, and high-waisted slacks, the usual attire, but it never failed to soften your senses. He looked well-rested, his expression serene, no signs of dark circles, and his hair was even silkier than usual as his fingers brushed it back. You found yourself fidgeting, imagining what it would be like to run your fingers through his hair, touch his skin, and feel the texture of the beard that was just beginning to grow.

Realizing your mental drift, you closed your eyes tightly and buried your head in a notebook, trying to avoid looking at him. The rest of the class proceeded as usual, his voice pleasant and utterly hypnotic, and occasionally, he cracked a light joke to lighten the mood. Almost no one laughed, but you found it funny. There were only a few students, so he had no choice but to notice you.

You weren't foolish enough not to notice his eyes briefly passing over you, but you chalked it up to his duty to see if anyone needed help. So you avoided letting your brain jump to impossible conclusions.

And then there was the age difference; he was older, you couldn't say for sure how much, but the more pronounced lines on his face and his authoritative demeanor made that evident. Still, he was charming and, dare you say, a bit sexy. He had a well-sculpted physique, leaving enough room for you to describe him for hours.

"Could you continue for us?" he said, his voice distinct, making you look at him reluctantly. You didn't know it, but avoiding his gaze throughout the class had bothered him, but who was he to say anything about it unless you couldn't answer him?

You nodded, your hands sweaty; you knew what to say, just not where to find the courage. Your cheeks were already burning with anxiety. "I'm sorry," your voice was soft, and you stumbled over the first syllable. He seemed to understand. "It's okay," Mr. Turner leaned down to your level at your desk, his hands on his knees, and a somewhat encouraging smile. "I know you wrote an excellent paper on this; I know you know what to say," he said softly, turning toward you, his calm eyes and a nod of the head giving you confidence. His words made you look away for a moment, and your shy smile spread awkwardly.

Once you finished, he thanked you and added that you had done very well. He seemed genuinely pleased to see you speak, but perhaps it was just a product of your imagination. You even received a light applause from him, which didn't seem ironic. This made you feel more at ease and attentive during his classes; he was a great teacher.

At the end of class, he passed by the desks, handing out the respective papers we had discussed. Your face fell into a worried expression as you touched yours. Alex knew you deserved more, but he wouldn't make it easy for you. It wasn't his style as an educator to give out high grades easily.

Your smile disappeared in confusion; he felt a pang in his chest when he saw your reaction. He didn't say anything, just returned to his desk and said he was open to discussions. He hoped you would come to him and fight for the grade you deserved, but it was clear how upset you were about it.

Others left, content with their grades, and you still had the paper in your hands, looking between the notes. He avoided looking at you directly, yet couldn't help but glance at you from time to time.

"Mr. Turner," you sounded angelic as you approached him, your steps light as you handed him the paper. Your shirt was short, and when you handed him the paper, he couldn't help but notice the exposed skin of your stomach, which was briefly visible. "I thought I had done well; that's what you just said," your voice trembled, and as you got closer, he noticed your sweet scent. On the other hand, you couldn't focus on anything; minutes ago, you were sure you had done well, and things with him had been sorted out; he didn't hate you.

"It's not a bad grade," he said firmly, then immediately regretted it. It was brief, but for a moment, your eyes filled, and he could see how much it had frustrated you. He didn't blame you; in fact, he knew you were talented, and by the way you had written, he knew you had put in the effort. The problem wasn't you; any other teacher would have given you the highest grade. However, your grade wasn't bad; it just wasn't what you deserved and wanted.

"Do you think I can redo it? I can do better," he looked at your trembling hands and continued, "This grade is final; I can't allow you to do that." His words didn't match his tone, but you didn't notice; you wanted to rip up the paper in front of him and say you didn't need it.

You stood in front of him, disoriented, while he couldn't help but let his attention wander over you. He felt wrong, both because you were his student and because he was aware that you were over a decade younger. Still, without being able to explain it well, he found himself lost in thoughts of you from time to time, especially after having read what you wrote.

"Please," you pleaded softly as a last attempt, your eyebrow arched and your nose wrinkled in emphasis of your plea, and you looked so beautiful. "I can allow you to submit another," he confirmed, his face serious, the little furrow between his brows. Up close, you felt your breath catch as you noticed the exposed hairs on his chest. The scent of cigarettes and his cologne became more pronounced, and you liked it. Creating a new one would take so much time, but if it was your only option, there was nothing to be done.

Alex had only asked that in the hope of being able to explore more of your writing; by the end of the semester, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from letting you know that you were his number one fan if you allowed it. You had a beautiful way with writing; feelings seemed worth experiencing in your words. You nodded in agreement. "Okay, I need you to submit it by the end of the week." You didn't object; you seemed grateful, and Alex took mental note of how caring so much about that grade was something youthful; in the future, it wouldn't matter, but you didn't know that yet. Your smile, now smaller but still present, returned to your kind face, and he felt more comfortable, even dressed in his serious university professor attire. With that, he guided you to the door, his palm resting lightly on your back, not inappropriately, but gently, which caused him to blush a bit. You felt shivers run down your spine, but he didn't seem to notice, and both of you made your way to the exit. You thanked him once more, telling him that you wouldn't make him regret his decision, to which he assured you it wouldn't happen.

Your path to the next class was accompanied by a light and relaxed smile after his final words were simply, "I know you won't disappoint me; you didn't the first time," in his pleasant accent, followed by a pat on your shoulders. You felt like a fool, but you couldn't even think of trying to avoid it anymore.

…

"He's good, knows what he's doing. He follows my lead during, when I'm tired and breathless; he tilts his face and lets his nose graze my clit," your friend said casually, as if it were an everyday part of her life. Well, you couldn't relate. She was lounging on your bed, while you were on the floor with your laptop open to one of Professor Turner's published stories. As well as a valuable audiobook that was read by him between the navigation tabs, waiting for her to leave so you can have your moment of peace. You wanted to learn more about him, and your friend kept failing to get you to go out and meet new people. You were unfamiliar with the sensation of being touched, and she wanted to change that.

"I don't want to have to force someone to like me," you said, reconsidering what you had just breathed out, not wanting to sound offensive. You two were just different. She didn't mind; she just laughed. "I'll keep trying for you," and you appreciated that about her. You wanted someone in your life like that, but you didn't want it to be as insignificant as she described. She had already set you up with someone to talk to before, and the kiss was good, at least until you refused to have sex right away, which resulted in his friends laughing at you and whispering as you passed them in the hallway. You learned that sometimes it's better to wait and avoid certain situations.

"I'm okay like this, it's alright," you said, even though you weren't, but you wouldn't go through that again. She respected your decision. Your smile brightened as you saw a notification that you had received an email from Alex on the screen. You bit your lip, trying to contain your eagerness to click on it, making it something important that needed to be read slowly and appreciated. His notes on what he thought of your paper would be there, and he always made a point to highlight the positives and areas for improvement. It warmed your heart.

For a brief moment, his smile for you flashed in your mind, the wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, and his pointed nose following in harmony. You had to grip the fabric of your skirt between your fingers, soon having your friend's words echoing in your head. Professor Turner seemed like a good man in every sense of the word. You did believe he would treat his partners well in every way. Your friend pointed out that the boy she went out with listened to her, and you felt that he would too; both in listening and in other ways. You were sure, with what little you had learned about him, that he was observant.  There would be no need to tell him what to do, Mr Turner would understand your body and then he would not disappoint.  He could tell when a woman was tired or overwhelmed. An important one was that you also thought he was provocative, too impatient at times not to be.  You wanted to be able to know what it was like with him, even if it was through other people's experiences with him, just to get a little of that taste.  You didn't exactly feel good about the inconsistency of such thoughts. Still, you let yourself be carried away by them.

He made you wet with just his voice. If he were to touch you in that way, you were certain you would give yourself over completely. You sat up straighter, envisioning how good it would be to have his tongue on you, gentle and with relaxed moans because he wouldn't think going down on you was a bad thing or something to second-guess. You remembered how easily you could make your small vibrator slide when you were really excited, and you felt it would be the same with his fingers. They were longer and thicker than yours, but wet with his saliva and your body melting from his voice, they would be skillful.

The tip of his nose would surely brush deliciously against your clit as he savored your taste, following your cues. The beard that was beginning to grow would graze your sensitive skin, causing a slight burn that would remind you of his presence. Professor Turner would also shake his face into you, wanting to make sure he enjoyed pleasuring you as much as he did receiving. Oh, and you would love to be able to provide that to him. Unconsciously, you found yourself breathing heavily. Your friend laughed, "Are you this worked up over a notification?" She had gotten up to leave but returned when she noticed you were flustered. "Spill it, who's the lucky one?" You recoiled, shaking your head in denial, not wanting to admit that there was someone (or not exactly), but your smile was hard to hide.

"It's not really anyone," you still felt uncomfortable in your own skin, fearing you had done something wrong. She waited for you to continue. "Just an email about a paper I submitted, I got feedback on it now." She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "What a nerd." Then you felt like exploring the situation further, considering that she also had a class with him but in a different subject. "Was it positive feedback at least? What subject is this for?" You mentally thanked her for asking, giving you an opening to continue.

"It's for Professor Turner's class. He let me redo one of the papers to try for a higher grade," you answered, and she raised an eyebrow. "He gave you a low grade?" The girl seemed surprised but not entirely. "This guy is impossible, what a..." She used a strong word. You didn't quite understand. While you still thought there was a chance he might dislike you, he didn't seem so harsh. He wasn't the friendliest at first, but as you thought back, you realized you had never seen him smile at any student in your class except you.

"Do people think he's bad?" You asked, furrowing your brow. Deep down, you wanted her to reassure you by saying positive things about him and making you feel normal about having this confusing crush on him. She then talked about his strict grading style, how he acted like a difficult person to talk to, and always had a stern expression. She wasn't wrong; you couldn't deny that. But he wasn't like that with you; it was different, and you couldn't explain it.

"I talked to him about my grade, and even though he was reluctant, he allowed me to redo it and submit it by email. He talks to me during class as well, asking me to explain something or asking for my opinion on what he's explaining. I think he's talented, but I can understand your point," you defended, without taking a breath, as if it were already a formulated and concrete idea in your head. You did spend a lot of time thinking about him since the first day of his class. She quickly caught on to where this was headed. "You like him, he's your type. Charming, grumpy, and writes well." Your cheeks burned. "He likes you; in my class, he doesn't chitchat with anyone, just does what's necessary. He enjoys teaching, I can see that in him, he's just not so sociable and too strict for a subject that should be straightforward. I've never even seen the guy smile." You pondered for a moment, deciding to pay closer attention to see if he treated you differently from the others or if it was just your head playing tricks on you.

You shrugged and concluded before she left, "I like him, and he frustrates me sometimes for being so strict, but I don't think he does it out of malice. He seems like a good man." She got up, laughing at how you talked about him. "Then go for it, suck his dick, choose him as your thesis advisor; I'm sure he'd love to have you under his wing." Her tone indicated it was a joke, but it sparked your imagination. He would be a good advisor, and you liked the idea of him praising your work with that pleased, bright look on his face. Alone, you opened the email. Your joy went from extreme to controlled; he could be quite harsh when pointing out the negatives, and sometimes you wondered if he did it just to be difficult. But this time, he found more positives in your writing. He had marked the parts he liked the most and written next to them why he liked them. Your heart warmed, and your stomach filled with happy butterflies. The last comment read, "You give me pleasure in reading something," and you heard it in his voice, deep and drawn-out. You felt yourself grow warm and realized how messed up you were for feeling like this. Your mouth was dry, and in the end, you saw that your grade was the highest, even with the not-so-great notes he had made.

Maybe he didn't dislike you after all. You lingered on the blurry, not much clear photo in his email signature for a while, with a stupid smile of accomplishment on your face. Then you decided to write him a thank-you, and you weren't as brief as you would have liked. The sensation of comfort taking over your body, along with your pleasant but not entirely appropriate thoughts about him causing things in your breathing, made you contemplate what could be done.

You rested your head comfortably, your laptop placed beside you. In a new tab, after opening the audiobook website, you found yourself browsing through the selection that appeared when you searched his name. If his voice was enticing in an inappropriate context, it would be even better alone, wouldn't it? Your chest tightened, knowing that it was wrong, but you weren't going to stop.

You put on your headphones, clicked on the longest one you could find, and relaxed your tense shoulders as the first whispered words filled your head. It was even better; here, you had him all to yourself, complete silence, and his voice echoing, well-recorded and clear as it guided you. He sounded precise, with deep and marked pauses, his typical breathing between phrases, and, with your eyes closed, you could imagine him gesturing and occasionally touching his nose or mouth as he spoke. Just like the gentle adjustment of the necklace and shirt that made his chest more visible and room for more of your thoughts to be explored.  In fact, that necklace coming off his soft skin on top of you in sweat would be something so pleasant.

You felt weak but in a relaxed way; it was good, pushing the voice that haunted your thoughts about him into the background. Delicately, as if any abrupt movement might break the spell, you reached for your box under the bed. The small, pink object came to life in your hand, your throat already dry and his narration causing your head to tilt slightly to the side, as if he were caressing your face. You let yourself be completely carried away as you pressed it against yourself.

You swallowed hard, leaving it there for a while, immersed in how Mr. Turner seemed to be speaking to you. Everything was slow, every syllable that came from his rosy lips was cherished. You wanted so much for it to be him there, touching you and whispering while guiding you. You were sure he would say things like, "That's it, you're taking me so well, doll," or "Look at how good you are, you're such a good girl for me." And as cliché as it might sound, you had no doubt that he would make it sound like something the gods themselves would envy.

You pulled the thin fabric aside, pushing the vibrator inside you. Your legs trembled a bit, but as expected, the small object slid in just right. Your lips parted in a satisfied sigh, whispering his last name as you closed your legs slowly and felt the tingling sensation intensify. His name never felt so delicious and engaging as your tongue rolled out to the sound and went through your lips so vividly. Your head throbbed, and you could already see him sitting at his desk in front of yours, guiding you, telling you what to do and say, teaching you tricks to make it even better (you knew you weren't very skilled).

You got louder, whimpering because you wanted your thoughts to become real so badly, and then you saw nothing but white spots in your vision. Your chest heaved, your breathing completely out of sync, and the area beneath you grew wet as you felt too sensitive to continue with the vibrator.

This time, you didn't feel bad; you felt really good, actually. Your body relaxed, his voice still being absorbed by you in a therapeutic way. Then, you imagined lying on his chest, pulling your pillow to your arms, and how he would kiss you solemnly and have his hands in your hair, giving you comforting words until you fell asleep after he had made you feel so wonderful. 

Although you were feeling good now, the following morning would be a bitter testament to how you were digging yourself into a hole with no bottom, and the light wouldn't be there to save you.

…

 Alex received your email, and a pleasant blush crept onto his face along with a warm smile. He could picture you reading what he had written, your hands between your thighs, a happy expression on your face, and all giddy, unable to contain yourself in your chair. He appreciated how much you valued his feedback, but he knew how hardworking and intelligent you were. He wanted to help you realize that you were good on your own, not just because he believed it.

He ran his hand through his hair, feeling hot from the heat. Your notification had arrived on his phone, and being a seasoned university professor, he preferred to wait to access his laptop to read and respond to you properly if needed. He tried to get into the thing that he was used to teaching, but that wasn't entirely the case. While he found it tiresome to teach subjects he liked and found interesting when no one seemed interested, he enjoyed it when you were there for him, you were the exception (the teacher’s pet). The thought made him chuckle and bite his lip. It was tiring, but he liked it, except for all the social interaction that weighed on him.

He had just returned from the market after giving two lectures, and he had exceeded his limit for social interaction. Yet, seeing your email notification on the screen gave him the extra energy he needed for the rest of the day. Just the thought of your quick exchange earlier when he passed by you on the first floor during lunch, even if brief, brought a warmth to his chest. You smiled at him, waved, and whispered a "good day" or "have a good rest of your day, Professor." He always smiled back with a hand in the air, trying to keep his face relaxed, and he actually showed his teeth. He wasn't used to all this sweetness from his students and had never found himself making an effort for it, but with you, it was worth it.

Indeed, no one but you spoke directly to him out of pure, spontaneous will. If others did, he would remain serious, with a furrowed brow, and nod in agreement. He honestly preferred it that way, with no one besides you trying to have a small talk with him. He didn't dislike his students, but he didn't like flattery and dumb questions that could be avoided if they paid attention in class.

His head began to ache, and he noticed the sweat on his body, prickling and making him feel irritated. Stress was about to come back, but he remembered that he needed to read your email. He removed his belt, sliding it off his waist slowly and soon feeling relieved. He felt even better after unbuttoning all the buttons on his shirt and peeling it off. He quickly decided between taking a shower or reading your sweet words first, considering which order would leave him relaxed for longer so he could sleep. He knew that whatever he did, thoughts related to you would still linger in his mind until he fell asleep.

He sat on the bed, pulling the laptop toward him, and although he wasn't in a hurry, he found himself restless until the screen lit up, and he could access his account. Once he did, your simple message didn't fail to soften him. The excessive exclamation points reminded him of how young you were. It was like a letter, with your polite and correct punctuation. He could almost hear your voice as he read your words.

The way you called him "Mr. Turner" never failed to affect him. Others had addressed him this way, but it was different with you. Your eyes sparkled, your smile widened, your pupils got alive, and your pleasant face eagerly awaited for him to look at you and speak to you. He thought he was too old for this, and he certainly was, but he couldn't avoid how you had invaded his soul.

You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, but he felt like he was corrupting you. He felt dirty for getting so energized by giving you compliments he knew you liked to hear and then patting your back while seeing you happy about it. What the hell was he doing? And he couldn't deny that he found comfort in how beautiful you looked when you were frustrated, your eyes seemed more tired, and your breathing uneven when you were upset about one of his negative comments (sometimes he did it on purpose).

Feeling his own chest grow heavier and his mind getting increasingly lost, he opted for a shower, even though he was aware that idealizing you wouldn't end there. Now without clothes, under the shower, with you like a curse surrounding him, he realized just how messed up he was. He couldn't avoid it anymore, even though he didn't want to. He knew there was no turning back.

The words from your email clung to him as water flowed over his hair and down his shoulders. You had shown how much you appreciated him and knew his work, the care in choosing your words to praise him, and saying that you wanted to get to him in person soon to reinforce how much you had liked his feedback, the way would like to work through them and see you unravel in front of him because he noticed that your courage in emails wasn't the same as in person. He found that so adorable.

His overactive imagination was leading him to cute places related to you, but it was sparking other curiosities in him too, even though it was about how delicate and somewhat innocent he found you (although he would never admit it that way). Soon, he felt heavy, needing relief as the water splashed over him, and he sighed in exasperation at himself. He was being as pathetic as a teenager. Why couldn't he stop?

His breathing grew rigid, catching in his dry throat, and he allowed himself to be carried away by the flow of his fantasies. His hand ran over his abdomen, eyes tightly closed, hoping that this would make him feel less guilty about it. His thumb glided over the sensitive skin, and a soft sigh escaped his lips; he felt sore and swollen despite doing so little. He continued slowly but with precision. He believed that giving you pleasure wasn't such a difficult task; you would appreciate the touch no matter what. Not that it made him want to go easy on you. He felt like he could have his hands around your waist, squeezing your soft flesh with delight while admiring your breasts, giving them gentle bites and generous suckling that would make you gasp for air for extended periods. Your hands would be cradling the nape of his neck, fingers entwined in his tousled hair. He found comfort in this, feeling that he could make you feel the same way.

He also thought that your body would respond well to his. He was convinced that you were addicted to being a good girl, and that was not up for discussion. The way you melted under his compliments, listened to his harsh criticisms, and sought to improve upon them, you would deny any chance of being labeled a bad girl. As more moans escaped his lips, with the strength of his fingers unaltered, he thought about going a little harder on you, not to hurt, but to make you think about begging him to stop. The tears that would stream down the corners of your eyes as you tried to be good for him and take him in you just right. "You're doing so well, babygirl. You’re so good to me." You would open your bright eyes to him, feeling encouraged to continue being what he needed. He would clearly notice and slow down, accommodating his fingers on your clit and making you adjust to him with soft whimpers that made you endure and enjoy it until the end.

He also liked how you would react when he stimulated you to the extreme, your sensitivity and his desire to taste your essence on his tongue. He could say that you were as sweet as his last name sounded when you talked to him in class. He would tease you with his tongue, kissing you as if it were the only time and chance he had to touch you. And you would fight not to close your thighs around him, but as you were a good girl, you would succeed in keeping yourself spread open while he exhausted you a few more times. The thought of you reaching your peak, your eyes closed, and the tears he knew would be there because you did that when you got frustrated with his opinions on your writing, and your mouth slightly open with his name escaping, made him reach his climax. A deep, raspy groan echoed through the bathroom, his head heavy, and his shoulders feeling lighter and more satisfied. He worked his hand until the last drops came out and marked his stomach just before the water could wash it away down the drain.

He felt good, guilty, but his body wasn't saying that. "Fuck," he sighed, not knowing if it was relief or the headache that would come later due to this; it was getting worse to a dimension he hadn't imagined. He would surely ruin you if he continued; it wasn't as enjoyable as he wished.

Still, he got out of the shower and found himself picturing how you would snuggle up to him, your tired body and calm eyes enveloped by his, and how he would love to tell you stories until he saw you fall asleep safe in his arms or listen to you talk about your day. He liked your voice; it made him feel good. At this point, he desired you in all these ways, from the most profane to the most adorable, for your physical and emotional well-being.

You still haunted his dreams, so vividly that he reached out for you in bed. In his imagination, he had lifted you by the waist and placed you sitting on his desk. The remaining students had left, and he could revel in how your hands were trembling and your face was so delicate as you gazed at him. You used to wear knee-high socks with longer boots, and he found it sexy yet cute. He felt like you made things your own, that you gave life to them. And then he found himself pulling at that piece of clothing, your legs spreading apart, and he had to instruct you to stay quiet before someone noticed as his fingers touched between your thighs. He caressed over the damp fabric, nodding his head and waiting for you to do the same, indicating that you understood to stay calm and quiet. The door would be closed, but the glass window could still give you away. You were facing away from it, and if you behaved, everything would go smoothly.

Alex could feel you soaking through his fingers, making them slippery. You sucked on his finger skillfully, being such a great girl, and stayed still without him having to coax you into relaxing as he went deeper. Your sighs were adorable, and he felt himself getting hard. He woke up before he could make you reach your peak and realized that the dream had an effect on him. There, he knew that if given the opportunity, maybe he wouldn't be able to fight against what he wanted to do, purely out of morality.

…

The following week, there was no class with Turner due to some unforeseen circumstances of his. However, he was still around for the week. Being as observant as you were, you passed by the same spot at 12:45 on Friday, gave him a slight wave, and although you had planned to approach him and ask how he was, you didn't. That is, until he called out to you, causing your body to freeze and your heart to race, forcing you to get closer.

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, his cheeks flushed and intense. You noticed his restlessness as you got to him; it was cute, not awkward. He held a coffee and had a cigarette between his fingers. He exhaled the smoke in the opposite direction to yours and got rid of it as soon as you arrived by his side.

"Are you good, Professor?" It didn't fail to make him nervous, but he still looked at you without understanding. "I'm sorry, I guess it's not my business; I just thought to ask out of politeness since I haven't seen you this week."

He laughed at how you stumbled over your words, and he didn't blame you; he felt the same way. The fact that he made you feel like your question was inappropriate even made his chest tighten a bit.

"It's okay, I had a routine check-up, but I'm fine," he replied briefly but nodded with a comfortable smile. He could see you swallowing nervously and how your fingers wouldn't stop moving while he had his eyes on you.

"I thought of a book for you, if you don't mind." Your eyes met his, and you seemed excited. "I really like it, and I thought you might like it too."

The idea that he had thought of you made your body tingle, and the rush of blood to your face drowned out the noise around you. You took the coffee from his hands, noticing how he fumbled with opening his bag, and the light touch of your skins made you wish for more—it was warm and soft.

He took out the book, handing it to you, and you nodded with a faint smile. You hugged the cover to yourself, avoiding his gaze for a moment. It felt insane being around him after all the things you did with him in mind. You weren't exactly proud of that. The collar of his striped T-shirt was carelessly folded, and the buttons you loved so much were unbuttoned, revealing his chest briefly. You wished you could fix it for him.

This time, he wore a dark blazer and flare jeans, and he was pleasant to look at. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, "I left notes in some parts so that I can know what you think later, if you'll allow me." Then you realized that he was doing this because he knew you needed to do well in his course to get into the master's program; still, you found it cute.

"Oh, yes, I can write to you when I finish, right?" He agreed, knowing that he would be waiting for your email in the coming weeks.

"I'm glad to know you're okay, Mr. Turner," you said awkwardly, your face fervently hot, and thanked him for the book. As you turned around, you felt his hand on your wrist; it wasn't as soft as before, but it was comforting, with the fingertips firmer as he squeezed your skin. Then, your eyes met his with a raised eyebrow.

"I need you to give me back my coffee, pet," he said playfully, and your knees weakened a bit. He felt pleased to be able to contemplate you in his mind.

…

The heat had taken its toll on Alex. He had left his blazer in the car and decided to visit one of the open bars near the campus. His hands rested inside his pockets as he patiently waited for his juice and water, yearning for the moment when he could finally get home and enjoy a cold beer. It was his final class of the afternoon, which meant it was getting quite late, and the students were scattered around. While the bar wasn't overly crowded, he could still recognize a few faces.

As soon as the chilled cup was placed in his hands, he caught sight of you with your back turned. You were wearing your signature knee-high socks and boots, but this time, you had opted for a skirt and a tank top, giving you a more relaxed and comfortable appearance. You looked stunning. With you engaged in conversation with a friend he had glimpsed from a distance, you were all smiles and animated hand gestures, bringing life to the scene.

Realizing he was staring, Alex chided himself and tried to divert his attention back to his juice. Yet, within a few minutes, his gaze involuntarily returned to you. Now, you were alone, engrossed in his book that sat next to you, its pages marked to indicate that you had already begun reading. A smile of satisfaction graced his lips; he had strategically placed notes between the pages for you to discover, hoping you would notice.

You sipped from an orange beverage, and Alex decided not to speculate whether it contained alcohol. However, he knew you weren't intoxicated when you suddenly turned towards him and greeted him with a friendly wave. He felt momentarily caught off guard but managed to offer a warm wave in return, nodding to acknowledge you. Your smile was radiant, and he couldn't help but notice how different you appeared outside the confines of the classroom. He longed for the opportunity to engage with you in a context that wasn't purely academic, but he was well aware that pursuing such a connection might be detrimental to both of you.

You turned back to your previous position, sipping your drink through a straw, while still sneakily stealing glances at him. Alex deliberated whether to linger a bit longer for your sake. The table you occupied was well-lit, offering a refreshing ambiance that was perfect for a summer day. The atmosphere was delightful, and he could easily imagine you enjoying such a setting regularly.

He held his bottle of water, pondering the ethical implications of sitting with you while you were alone. His initial plan was to finish his drink and then leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do that—not for his sake, but for yours. It wouldn't be fair to you. He feared the potential consequences would fall squarely on your shoulders rather than his own.

He shook his head and eventually decided to leave. As you lowered your head into his hands, he waited for a few more minutes, half-expecting you to look his way. But it didn't happen.

Then everything seemed to happen very quickly. He returned to his car, leaving behind the water and even starting the engine before realizing he had left his wallet inside. He hesitated but ultimately turned back, despite his frustration over forgetting his documents.

His wallet was still where he had left it. He retrieved it and then shifted his attention to you, curious and attentive. Your hands were fidgeting with your socks, as if attempting to wipe away sweat. A boy was seated in front of you, but your attention was elsewhere. The guy sported a smile that made Alex uncomfortable on your behalf.

Your discomfort was palpable, yet you seemed powerless to do anything about it. You turned to the side, your head moving away from the boy, and as you gasped for air, the guy's grin widened. Your elbows dropped onto your knees, and your hands moved to pull your hair away from your face. You appeared more sweaty than usual, and you felt increasingly weak.

As you realized your strength was waning, the boy signaled for someone else to assist you. You resisted, but they gently pushed you back into your chair to prevent you from collapsing. They weren't being nice about it.

For Alex, that was the tipping point. He strode over to them and forcefully removed the boy's hand from your arm. "Get away from her," his stern voice reverberated, and you didn't understand what was happening, but you knew you didn't feel well.

The guys attempted to speak over Alex, trying to explain themselves, even though there was no justification for their actions. Their chatter only served to irritate him further. He held onto you, his hand caressing your face, and your eyes were half-closed; you were clearly not in a good state.

After another remark from the boys, Alex glared at the boy with an even more intense hatred. His brow furrowed, and his tone grew sharper. "Just stay away from her; I won't let her be alone with you," he warned, making it clear that they should not attempt such behavior with anyone else either.

The boys exchanged nervous glances and silently agreed to leave, though Alex couldn't have cared less about them at that moment.

"What’re you feeling, pet?" He placed his hands on his knees, lowering himself to your level. You were dazed, your skin tingling, and you weren't sure what to say, or if you could say anything at all. Alex considered asking where you lived and offering to take you home, but he suspected you lived in the vicinity of the campus, and it wouldn't be appropriate for him to be seen with you in this state. Taking you to his own home didn't seem like a good idea either, but he did live nearby, and it appeared to be the most reasonable option.

He cupped your face in his hands, close enough to smell your scent once again. You smiled faintly, your eyes still distant but focusing on him. You were conscious, just not in the best condition. "I don't want to stay here; my head is spinning," you mumbled, not entirely sure what was wrong. It could have been due to poor nutrition or dehydration, you thought.

"Look, I'll stay with you ‘til you feel better, alright?" he spoke gently, as if soothing a baby. You nodded, his touch on your cheek making you lean into his warmth. As he thought about reaching out to your forehead with his lips, he realized where he was and quickly pulled back, rising to his feet with you leaning on him for support.

…

Alex gently sat you in the passenger seat, and you huddled in front of him, noticeably self-conscious about your attire. He chuckled warmly, pulling his blazer from the back seat. You felt cradled by his presence as he slipped the fabric over your arms and fastened the buttons around your midsection. It resembled a short dress, making you feel more comfortable, and it carried a pleasant scent. Your stomach still tingled, and you were aware that it was because of him and not whatever had happened earlier.

He rested your head against the headrest, his serene eyes guiding you, and he didn't seem regretful about helping you, despite the crease between his brows. Then he fastened your seatbelt and handed you his water bottle. Your vision was blurry, and sudden movements hurt, but he wasn't a saint, and he had a rough view of how you must be feeling. He'd been your age before, although thankfully, in his case, it had been a result of a spontaneous choice.

"I'll wait a bit before starting the car, alright?" he suggested, and you nodded. He gently led the bottle to your lips, encouraging you to drink a substantial portion of it. He wiped your chin and face with the hem of his T-shirt, and you followed his every move, your attention fixated on him. Without the blazer, he looked even better, and you lightly held his wrist. He seemed concerned, but you did it because you wanted to and felt that you could, even though you'd never been this close before. "Thank you, Mr. Turner," you said casually, as if it didn't affect him profoundly.

As he sat down on the driver's side of the car, he closed the tinted windows, feeling safer with that precaution. He still worried about putting you in danger. He waited, knowing that feeling dizzy along with drinking water wouldn't be a good combination, even though he had insisted on it to help your body recover more quickly. He could hear your calm breathing, which put him at ease. You had closed your eyes, your mouth slightly ajar, and he looked at you, allowing himself to be captivated by every detail. He carefully adjusted your hair to prevent it from catching on the seat and strands from being pulled, whispering, "You can sleep; everything’ll be alright, I promise, little one." You found yourself charmed by the pet name, involuntarily smiling, and he made a mental note that you like it. Your arms lightly touched, and with the comforting scent of him surrounding you, you drifted into a light sleep. It was strange to be in such a bad situation with an outcome that neither of you regretted. He kept the radio off until reaching your destination. He’d never drive without music. 

… 

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as you realized you were leaning on him for support. Your forehead was resting on his shoulder, his soft T-shirt against your skin. He was more comforting to touch than your mind had led you to trust. He was kneeling in front of you while you sat on the bed. You no longer felt dizzy, but you were weak, with not all your senses fully present. Alex's hands delicately removed your earrings and necklaces, and it was nice to have him so close, a bit surreal. You almost believed you could be a doll with how he was treating you. He moved back, laying you down on his bed, and he smiled at you as a way to reassure you that everything was okay. You grabbed his arm, afraid he would leave. Alex quickly shook his head. "Hey, little one, I'm not going anywhere. I just need to get some water for you and something to dry your face." He sounded caring, making you want to cry because you knew this was wrong. But why did it feel so right?

"Promise?" You asked, not into the idea of falling into a deep sleep and when you wake up he wouldn't be there to call you little one anymore. He nodded, extending his pinky finger to seal the promise. The silence without him wasn't comforting; you felt like there were monsters under the bed. Still out of mind about time and space, you realized you were in his room, which made you feel even more fragile. The room had a light blue color, seemed well-lit during the day, had books scattered in an organized manner, and two guitars hanging on the wall. That made you put your hand over your mouth as you imagined how his fingers would behave playing those strings. You wanted to hug him, to let the scent and the soft chest lull you to sleep again. Your head was noisy, and you didn't like it.

When he returned, he moved in slow motion to you. He wiped your face and neck with a damp cloth, and you wondered why he was alone. He was a good man; you had thought about that before. Alex wouldn't sleep next to you, but he would stay with you as long as you needed him. He sat with his back against the headboard, looking at you for a moment. It was too late; this was no longer just a casual situation. You'd have to talk about it; you had formed a bond. Although you were scared, Alex liked it.

You asked him to lie down, and he complied. You were side by side, facing each other. Your eyelids struggled to close, but first they followed your fingers as they roamed his face. You traced the gentle lines at the corner of his eye, then the bridge of his nose. He was handsome. Sometimes you wanted to forget that he was older than you, even though you liked him that way. Your hand then touched his rough stubble, and he smiled when he saw you smiling at him. It was like a dream, like you had imagined and even better.

In an abrupt and unquestionably unplanned proceed, your hand hooked onto the collar of his T-shirt, pulling yourself closer. It was a light pull, and in the blink of an eye, your lips were on his, tender and airless. They lingered there, just touching, feeling each other's warmth and the mixing of breaths. Your hand pressed against his chest and held him to yourself, like he could heal you. You moved your lips with his slowly, warmly, and precisely, enjoying in a comfortable sigh every second of it, until he broke into a sigh of reality. He couldn't be doing this, not with you like this. Not wanting to startle you, he sealed your cheeks and nose a few countless times before planting small forehead kisses when he needed to refuse your touch. He felt guilty, but he wouldn't deny that it had been good, way better than he had fantasized. There were no words, and none were needed; both of you were aware of it. Although he thought you might not be as much, he feared you might not even remember this when you woke up.

Alex held your palm against his chest until you fell asleep. Then he got up, covered your body with a warm sheet, and left you there. Unable to restrain himself from touching your face before and stroking your hair. The next day, you would wake up, wondering if it had been a vivid dream or not. But his room would leave no doubts, with the guitars, the well-lit atmosphere, and his blazer still carrying his scent on you. You didn't know how you were going to talk to him after that, you thought about how he must think of you as a kid who doesn't know how to be in the real world. This time, however, you noticed a photo on the bedside table. He was hugging a woman while kissing her forehead. She had a neatly cut fringe and an angelic face; she was very pretty, and it made you feel insecure. She was around his age. You were wrong to be there, and then you got that the bed you were on was a double bed. You wanted to run away even though your head was pounding. Professor Turner might act like a good man, but he was still a man. Above all, you tried to think well of him; perhaps it was a divorce, right? You would have noticed the ring on his finger if he were married. He wouldn't take off the ring, would he? But why was that photo still there? You quickly got up, failing to remain composed when you saw that he had left a note and some money in case you needed to call an Uber. You couldn't just read it right away. You wanted to believe he was good, but it hurt. You felt used even though you hadn't done anything. Yet, you still felt like you wanted him around more often because you felt good with him. In the middle of class, Alex struggled with impatience, hoping you wouldn't leave without taking the note and the snack he had left for you, so you would have his number and be safe. But it didn't happen, at least not when he expected it to. 

...

taglist: @ohladymoon @indierockgirrl @bloo-wisteria @bellaturner @cosmoschaotic @nikisfwn @andrews-lovr @nela-cutie @artimonkii @alexturnersbbg3 @blackberryblossom @lilmisssweetdreams

(lmk if you want to be in or out of the taglist!)

[just-some-random-blogger]

Kiss It Better

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: If you love someone, show them. If you're feeling broken, cry. And so if someone you love asks, 'are you alright', when you shed your tears, do not feign falsehood so not to worry them. After all, what point is it to fake your temperament to your love who's memorized you like verse and would burn the world if your tune ever soured?

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: gender neutral reader, war criminal daemon™, yn having a bad day (aka me), hurt/comfort?, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: hello. im not having bad day per se, its mostly just that i find myself unable to do anything creatively, which is horrible considering im a music major and its our midterms and i have to do creative stuff. and i also have many reqs waiting to be done. anyway, writing this to manifest daemon to come into my life and kiss it better, also as like... a palette cleanser. hopefully i can write reqs soon <3 Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise also @sloanexx because you said you watch hotd now you can read my hotd fics too <3

"You there," Daemon calls the attention of a passing servant, "have you s-" He is caught off-guard when the tiny woman makes haste before he could finish his statement. The prince can only watch as she flees.

Well, it was not out of the ordinary for servants to shudder under his gaze and quiver at his requests in certain moments, but he was not particularly threatening today... at least not yet. Daemon would say he woke up particularly chipper actually, so he had no idea as to why that girl fled.

No matter.

Again, he was in a good mood, he can simply go about and continue looking for who he was looking for-- his fire, his heart, his love.

What cruel ridicule it was of the gods to make his person precisely opposite to him on this day.

Much like other instances, Daemon was successful in finding his beloved in the place that he often did. And so upon opening the library doors, he was both relieved and concerned to see his darling sprawled in the middle of the room, looking up to the ceiling as though it held the meaning of life.

He turns over his shoulder, aware of how much talk your position on the floor would elicit from blabbermouths, and closed the door behind him.

Daemon's brows knit. He did not think that the carpet was clean enough for your current use. He made internal note to have someone clean it later.

He turns back to you as you sigh as though many troubles plagued you. And so the prince reacted the way he normally did, he snorted under his breath and shook his head. He did not doubt that you were likely overanalyzing whatever chronicle it was you found entertainment in this time.

Daemon places his hands behind his back as he walks over. The concern in him reemerges when you don't at all move in your place, but then he supposes you knew it was him that was approaching, thus did not bother, since there was no threat.

"Mmm," he leans slightly forward, "enjoying yourself down there, my love?"

You do not move, save for your pupils that dart to him.

Daemon finds himself chuckling under his breath. He raises his brows, "what would you have done if it were not I that walked in?" He clicks his tongue, "not even I can save you from your beloved teachers."

A lie. He would never not save you from anything.

You furrow your brows a fraction. You retort as though you were offended, "I knew it was your footsteps, Daemon."

Daemon straightens up, allowing his hands to fall to his sides, "that does not answer my question."

The prince then walks over you, heading to the chair near the lit fire place. Daemon sits down and watches. You remain a log on the floor. He leans on the back and sinks into his seat, widening the gap between his legs as he looks out to you.

Daemon shakes his head, "come now, you hammy babe. Pick yourself up before I drag you over by your heels."

He calls out your name. He narrows his eyes when you do not answer. He calls out again, and by the third time, he finds offence and bangs on his armrest. He sighs when you still do not move still.

He waits a moment. He waits for your response. Nothing comes. He crosses his arms at your deviance.

"Will you make me repeat myself?" he words slowly.

Still, nothing.

He growls your name out.

Finally, you growl yourself and turn to him. Daemon raises his brows in response. You grumble something under your breath as you begin to shuffle and sort yourself up until you were on your feet.

Daemon watches as you walk over to him. He hides his pleased smile by tutting at you and clicking his tongue, "are you giving me attitude?"

You roll your eyes, "no, your grace."

Daemon tilts his head up, bringing his hands back on the armrest once you're before him, "you just rolled your eyes."

"It's a show of affection, my prince."

He masks his amused breath with a sigh, "very well. I will allow it," he pats his thigh, "now sit on your throne."

You sigh in response. He knits his brows when he spots the pout upon your lips. Daemon pulls his head back and takes your cheek into his palm. Surely, you did not react like this because of his jest.

Daemon is pleased that you chuckle. You claim your spot, legs dangling on the right side of the chair while your head rested on his left shoulder. He kisses your neck and pulls you into him by your thighs, "better, is it not?" He exaggeratedly dusts off your clothes, "you're filthy now."

"Was the plot your most recent read so tragic that you're so woeful?"

You look up at him, pout intensifying, "I can't read, Daemon. I haven't read anything in weeks," you reiterate with much more emphasis, "I. Can't. Read."

He knits his brows tightly before raising them. He watches as you crash your head into him. He looks at your frustrated face, finding his own copying the expression, "well, I never thought you of all people would forget such a skill, but if I must, I will teach readily, starting from the alphab-" he cuts himself when you begin to push yourself off him. He breaks into a laugh, hooking his arms around you, "alright, alright, ñuha jorrāelagon, perhaps it wasn't very funny of me."

You find yourself quickly unable to wrangle when he seals you in his arms. You look at him, unamused look, but he only returns it with a smirk, "I say, it was, in fact, hilarious."

His body pulses with his soft laughter. You roll your eyes, "I'm glad you find this amusing."

"Of course it's amusing," he chuckles, "you're awfully dramatic about it, my whiny baby."

You scoff, flicking his nose, "says the boy who landed Caraxes on the roof of the Lord who dared try to dance with me."

Daemon yelps, clutching his nose before clutching your jaw, "that hurt."

"Oh, please," you hiss, "you're so dramatic about it," you mimic with an exaggerated Daemon impression.

He snorts then grunts. He takes his turn rolling his eyes.

You stick your tongue and headbutt his shoulder before nuzzling into the crook of his neck, "doesn't feel nice, now, doesn't it?"

Daemon leans his head against yours, "it feels nice when I do it you though."

You hum, "that says a lot about you."

For a moment, you both enjoy each other in the silence. Daemon rubs up your arm and massages your scalp, "are you truly so torn about not being able to read books?"

In truth, it was a ridiculous question. Of course being unable to read was not enjoyable to a reader. Daemon knew that sometimes even he stood nothing against bound pieces of paper in your eyes. He's glad you explain your emotions to him anyway.

You huff, "it's... it's just so frustrating. I want to read something. I want to read something so badly, but at the same time, I can't bring myself to do it. The idea seems exhausting, daunting, even."

You let out a laugh as you brush the lines on his face with your thumb. He softens at your affection, "perhaps it would be better if you stop reading for a while then."

You turn to Daemon. Your face twists at his expression, seemingly so appalled by the thought and so genuinely trying to make sense of it.

"Daemon, I haven't."

"Well, stop thinking about wanting to read."

You knit your brows at him as he continues, "maybe your mind is tired of reading the same stories over and over again."

You snort, "I barely make sport of rereading my favorite stories. I'm afraid I won't like them anymore if I do."

"Then if that's the case," Daemon says, "reread something."

You watch him brush his hands on your thighs, "if new stories are too daunting, then something old will comfort you, surely. After all, you already know what happens. It takes less work, since you won't wonder what happens next."

For a moment, you look at your prince, your rugged prince who had no place for reason when it came to certain matters of you, your darling that flew to the North on a whim because you mentioned there was were tomes there that you had always wanted to borrow, your Daemon that broke a pageboy's arm in anger because he accidentally spilled hot soup on you. He seldom made sense, and yet here he was, offering you all the sense he's got.

Of course, his lack of sense you had to make up for, as you personally apologized to the Starks for the theft of their beloved books, and, of course, you tended to the poor boy Daemon injured yourself while apart from offering a much needed generous compensation.

You look at him and feel your stomach mush at his gentleness.

"You don't think I've gone mad?" you mutter.

Daemon's face twists. He opens his mouth for a moment before speaking, "do you truly believe you would be the mad one between us?"

You laugh. You laugh because he's right. You laugh into his shoulder, curling into a ball of delight. You laugh at yourself but explain, "it's quite mad for me, don't you think?"

You roll your eyes at him.

Daemon pulls you close. You wrap your arms around his torso and kiss his jaw. He releases a deep sigh, "oh, yes. How utterly tragic. I've not yet made you a Targaryen, and yet here you are, succumb to madness," he raises a brow at you, "I ought to do something about it, shouldn't I, my sweet little lunatic?"

Daemon kisses you. Your mind slips into a haze at the feel of his mouth, "pardon me. I meant my mad Targaryen."

[yrthr]

☾ ONLY US ; S.HANBIN

s.hanbin masterlist / zb1 masterlist ; wc 0.893k

➛ genre / trope ; best-friends to lovers 🎧 — hello ! decided to go with a drabble and scenario is so cliché i love it and hopefully this isn’t too long i got carried away. and also hopefully its okay that this is in a school setting , im a sucker for school romance.

hanbin is affectionate and extremely clingy by nature and it shows through your friendship. however , recently , it seems as though he’s a bit too clingy.

“ y/n ! let me carry your bags for you. “

“ oh you have a lil’ something on your face , hold on… got it ! “

“ do you wanna go to the arcade after school ? my treat. “

“ its cold today , i brought a spare jacket for you. “

you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t flutter at these things hanbin would do for you. you weren’t dense but it was absurd.

hanbin potentially having feelings for you ?

lets snap out of the delusions.

there was always something deep down in your heart for hanbin , although you weren’t sure if those feelings were romantic or platonic.

but you’d never confess , obviously.

“ i’ll see you after class , don’t fall asleep ! “

hanbin told you , giving you one of his bright smiles while continuously waving goodbye until you were out of his vision.

lord he acted as if he was enlisting.

tuesdays , wednesdays and thursdays were considered hell for hanbin. which teacher placed him and you in separate math classes because its on sight. well , at least he’d get to walk you home every time. [ and woohoo for dismissal ]

finally class had ended which had hanbin bursting out those doors like it was an action movie. he made his way to your classroom , ready to call out your name , just to see…

… you talking and laughing with max.

he stood outside the backdoors , watching the interaction and how you were so comfortable around his presence. how you laughed so hard at his jokes that you had to hit him. [ hanbin noticed you did this occasionally when you were really losing your shit ]

hanbin’s smile dropped ever so slightly and his heart felt like it had been punched.

a surge of anger rushed through his veins as slightly protective yet possessive thoughts flooded his mind.

he brushed it off.

sure , he definitely had feelings for you but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t make new friends.

“ y/n ! if you’re ready lets go. “

hanbin grabbed the handle of your bag about to prop it up on his shoulders when you stopped him.

“ actually , im going to the mall with max today. “

“ oh. “

“ uhm okay , have fun ! remember to text me when you get home. “

“ yeah , i will. “

hanbin ruffled your hair endearingly before walking away. [ he had to practically drag himself away from you ]

he looked back giving you a smile which you didn’t notice , too busy talking to your other male companion.

the bus ride home was lonely hanbin didn’t have anyone to give the window seat to or lean his head on their shoulder , not even to trace words or patterns on the back of someones hand.

the silent trip made him realise how much more you meant to him , if that was even possible. as before he already considered you his world.

‘ its okay.. it’s just for today. ‘

well , the next few days were definitely worse.

hanbin saw you with max at times apart from math class.

he’d walk to your shared table in between classes , both of you would talk with hand signals or just your eyes , sharing stupid tiktoks.

all these things you used to do with hanbin , and him alone , were now shared with some other guy.

hanbin was well aware he was jealous , maybe a bit hurt too.

of course you both would hang out but to see you share your smile , laugh and humour with someone other than him was … gut wrenching to say the least.

but he couldn’t blame you.

one day , hanbin couldn’t control his emotions anymore.

you and hanbin were sitting at a bench behind the school that was the usual hangout spot.

out of no where max popped out giving you a grin , plopping himself right next to you and swinging an arm around your shoulders. he started blabbing about something irrelevant , and completely ignoring the other male.

“ we have to go now. “

hanbin gently grabbed your hand and guided you to the empty student council room.

“ jesus that guy had some fucking spy gear or something. “

you joked.

you looked up seeing hanbin’s eyes slightly darting around to look at you , his lips slightly ajar , his hand still holding yours and his other hand reaching up to caress your cheek.

“ i have to get this off my chest. y/n i really really like you. like like you. and if you don’t feel the same or you’re already dating max , thats fine. i just want you to know that. “

your lips perked up into a smirk like smile and scoffed.

you looked down , “ that was somewhat insulting , i do have standards you know. “

“ but yeah , i guess i like like you too. “

hanbin’s smile grew wider showing off his bunny teeth and he couldnt help but let out a few laughs.

“ may i ? “

you nodded.

you closed your eyes expecting his lips on yours but instead felt a soft peck on the tip of your nose.

“ that’ll have to wait , i’ll plan something special. “

and with that your heart couldn’t handle it anymore , burying yourself into his chest.

hanbins arms wrapped around you , squeezing you.

the once empty room was filled with uncontrollable giggles and a newly formed couple.

divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

©️ yrthr 2023

[crow-stars]

❝LET'S GO ICE SKATING❞

❦summary; ice skating can be such a fun time, though that may depend on whether you're new to the rink or have a bit of experience under your belt. ♪the characters in this story; diasomnia, malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge, sebek zigvolt, silver, gn!reader ✎word count; ~1,127 words ❀what do the ghosts say?; ambiguous, school trip to an ice skating rink, falling chatacters, first times on ice, mentions of climates in respective twst characters homeland, fun times ☛the author's notes; nothing to note... ☪look at the catalogue?

❛MALLEUS DRACONIA❜

❀ Malleus has probably never seen snow 

❀ He’s probably read about wintertime and all the other activities that come with the season

❀ So when he’s invited (he had to get over the excitement of being invited ) to ice skating, Malleus is as curious as ever to see what ice skating is all about

❀ Malleus can get on the ice

❀ The answer is, can he move on the ice?

❀ Well...

❀ He tried to. Malleus really, really tried to ice skate

❀ And he got onto the ice too, with some help from you hopefully.

❀ He did spend a bit watching others get onto the ice, just to see how they did it

❀ So, when Malleus decides to take that first step to try and move along the ice, he’s surprised when he falls backwards and slams into the ground with a loud thump

❀ It’s honestly a bit of a shock, especially when Malleus doesn’t immediately get up

❀ Sebek is panicking and worrying if his master is alright and Lilia is check first, laugh later (but he’s certainly trying to hold back his laughter)

❀ Malleus is alright, if you could call the absolutely flabbergasted look on his face okay

❀ Malleus isn’t... happy about this. Not at all. And he’s pouting now, glaring at the sky

❀ “Why did I fall?” “You might’ve been leaning too far back.” “But why would that matter?” “Balancing.” “Oh :(”

❀ Malleus is obviously not happy with how events have transpired and also upset that he fell straight on his back

❀ Despite that, he really, really wants learn how to ice skate and the determination is there. So much so, that Malleus refuses to leave until he can skate along the ice properly

❀ And when he does, Malleus is insistent on holding your hand as he, shakily, skates round the rink “like I had read once in a book”

❛LILIA VANROUGE❜

❀ Please, please, make him put the skates on

❀ Lilia can definitely ice skate, I have no doubt about it 

❀ But... the only problem is that he refuses to put ice skates on despite the risk of being cut. 

❀ And the whole time Lilia is laughing and smiling about how it’ll be fine!

❀ Lilia, you keep almost getting your foot sliced open by another student’s skates

❀ Despite that, Lilia is still laughing and smiling about how much fun he’s having and how it’s been a while since he’s gone ice skating

❀ Watch out or he’ll still those old man stories while in the middle of the ice rink

❀ Where he should not be LILIA PEOPLE ARE SKATING LILIA

❀ Anyways

❀ Lilia would be more than happy to be able to teach you and anyone who asks how to ice skate

❀ Granted you can get past his advice that isn’t really advice (poor Sebek)

❀ Lilia can be a good teacher though

❀ He doesn’t do anything too grandiose, perhaps skating around backwards if he feels like it’ll be fun

❀ And, contrary to other student’s beliefs, he actually doesn’t bump into other students. Lilia’s pretty aware of his body and where everything is

❀ Could you imagine Lilia doing ice skating with his longer hair? Ehehe

❀ He’d definitely be a bit of a teasing person, perhaps skating by to poke and tickle at your sides

❀ How smooth would it be if Lilia just decides to sweep by and suddenly pick you up

❀ Lilia definitely wouldn’t mind going ice skating again, especially if he gets to go somewhere that allows him much more space

❛SILVER❜

❀ Safety hazard

❀ For both himself and everyone else around him, take him off the ice

❀ Silver has probably gone skating before. I’d like to think that Lilia took the effort to try and teach Silver how to ice skate

❀ Though, with his sleeping spells, it can get a bit risky and dangerous is he’s around others

❀ Silver definitely likes doing ice skating, but doesn’t want the trouble or risks that come with it

❀ He was quite fine with just watching by the sidelines and doing something else, like playing around in the snow or drinking some hot chocolate 

❀ But no, this year, Silver will be able to ice skate

❀ Whether he likes it or not, you and Lilia will be dragging Silver onto the ice rink

❀ And he’s worried about falling asleep on the ice, but fear not! Lilia has an idea

❀ And that idea is to have one of you (read: only you) as Silver’s support! 

❀ Even if Silver insists otherwise, Lilia insists that Silver should be able to have fun along with everyone else 

❀ And so, even with Silver’s reservations, he begins skating around, though at a slower pace

❀ Encourage him to be faster, you’ll be there right behind him

❀ Now, Silver does fall asleep a couple times and has to be carted off to the side, but a quick lay in the snow should wake him up (Lilia did that he thought it would be funny)

❀ And while Silver does feel a bit bad about interrupting your time ice skating, assure him that there’s nothing wrong 

❀ Eventually, thankfully, Silver does begin to enjoy himself, skating around the rink with graceful ease, a light smile curled on his lips

❀ Silver definitely enjoyed his day

❀ Though, perhaps a day inside with some hot cocoa would be better suited

❛SEBEK ZIGVOLT❜

❀ Sebek has never gone ice skating before 

❀ And oh lord is he bad at it

❀ The first time Sebek got onto the ice, his legs immediately went cross leg and he almost slipped if not for grabbing onto someone nearby 

❀ Of course, he immediately apologizes, cheeks red with blush

❀ Now Sebek’s embarrassed, voice raising as he asks why in the Seven this wasn’t as easy as he thought it out to be!

❀ It looked so simple, why must it be so complicated?!

❀ Sebek will be sure to voice his frustrations, grumbling and bemoaning about the difficulty of ice skating

❀ Ace asks him why he doesn’t just got off the ice if he hates it so much

❀ No. Sebek refuses to get off the ice

❀ Sebek refuses to get off the ice until he’s mastered ice skating

❀ Ace thinks it’s absolutely stupid and Deuce is being encouraging at least

❀ And so begins a whole day of Sebek tripping over his feet

❀ He trips, he falls, he stumbles, and he’s sure to have a couple bruises on his body by day’s end. 

❀ Yet Sebek refuses to stop until he’s mastered ice skating

❀ The first time he managed to get more than two feet without falling, he made his celebration quite clear. 

❀ And it’s the most adorable thing ever seeing Sebek’s eyes light up with absolute joy at his success 

❀ Any opportunity after Sebek will want to improve on his ice skating

❀ So invite him out to ice skating again, Sebek won’t turn the opportunity down

[cuddlepilefics]

I don’t see it

Fandom: Enhypen

Sickie: Sunoo

Caregivers: Enhypen

Prompts: Fever dreams / “It’s just a nightmare. You’re safe.”

@whumperless-whump-event

No one’s POV.:

Sunoo had already been down with the sniffles for a week and the members had tried their very best to convince him to take some time off to recover. He was adamant though, he could keep going, it was just a cold. Jay already made a point of serving him a glass of orange juice every morning to hopefully boost his immune system, while Jake secretly slipped a fresh travel pack of tissues into their dongsaeng’s backpack every day, chuckling to himself that the boy never remembered to refill them. Sunoo always complained that he could take care of himself perfectly fine and that they shouldn’t go out of their way to help him out but would they listen?

Niki had decreased his teasing significantly, the more he watched Sunoo’s energy fade, though he did occasionally throw cough drops at the older. Jungwon had notified their manager of Sunoo’s condition in case they could make adjustments to his schedule to make it less straining on him without him having to sit out. Watching Sunoo struggle for air during one of their dance practices, the manager ordered him to sit out of dance entirely for the time being but agreed to allowed him to participate in every other part of the groups schedule, requesting the vocal teacher to reevaluate and decide on a daily basis. Initially, Sunoo was upset but he soon found himself too sore and fatigued to dance.

With him having been tired and out of it for multiple days, it went completely unnoticed when he eventually started to run a fever. None of them had really gotten much sleep that night, Sunoo’s cough getting worse at night, keeping him up for hours. His roommates weren’t spared from the disruptions either, so they were all still a little hazy when they were collected for their schedule. Heeseung quietly walked beside Sunoo, occasionally resting his hand on the younger’s arm to steer him into the right direction.

“Should we get you some tea when we stop for coffee?”, Jay asked softly, “Sunghoon-ah said you probably had a sore throat, that you didn’t have too great of a night.” Feeling guilty for keeping his friends up, Sunoo rasped: “Tea sounds awesome. My throat hurts.” – “I can hear that”, the older winced sympathetically, “I’ll ask for extra honey. Anything else we can get you?” Sunoo shook his head and mumbled a shy ‘thanks’. “Has it been that bad?” Heeseung whispered when Jay had gone back to Jake and Sunghoon, “I only heard you cough a couple of times.” Nodding, the younger admitted: “Been coughing through most of the night. I’m really sorry for the others. Though I tried to be quiet and muffle it into my pillow, they didn’t sleep much either.”

Aside from Sunoo himself, Jungwon seemed to be the worst off. Turns out having to lead a team while being sleep-deprived was a challenge but it also helped him relate to Sunghoon and Niki. Aware of the groups situation, their managers tried to take away as much of the stress as possible, providing breaks for coffee and snacks to help everyone function to the best of their abilities. They didn’t like what they saw in Sunoo though. Sure, he had already had a cold but he seemed a lot more out of it than he had been the past few days. That could be explained away by the sleep-deprivation but there was something about the glossy look in the boy’s eyes that gave them pause.

While everyone else filed into the studio, Sunoo was taken aside by one of the managers. He was hesitant to admit that his condition had declined over the course of the night, feeling insecure about his health, but there was no point in lying to their manager. It was easy to figure out why he was feeling worse, a quick temperature check confirmed a fever. Truly upset at his body, Sunoo joined the group in the studio, his expression resembling that of a kicked puppy. “Noo, why so sad?”, Jake frowned, pulling his dongsaeng into a hug. Holding back tears, Sunoo sniffled: “Manager-nim said I have a fever.” For a moment, his breath hitched before he managed to get it back under control. “Can’t my body just function for once?”, he pouted, resting his head on Jake’s shoulder, “This sucks.”

“Come on, you wanna lay down, Sunoo-yah?”, Jay hummed, patting his lap. Him, Jungwon and Niki were sharing one of the couches and gladly let their friend stretch out across their laps. Lightly scratching Sunoo’s head, Jay felt his forehead and winced. Why had they even taken him along today? If only the younger had said something earlier, he could’ve stayed home. Taking off his hat, Heeseung instructed: “Try to sleep. There’s little use in having you try to record with how hoarse you are and you’ll need some energy for our meeting later.” – “Good thing you can leave after the meeting”, Jungwon smiled, “No need to sit through dance practice and watch the rest of us.”

“’m sorry for being an empty weight needing to be dragged around”, Sunoo mumbled, tears stinging his eyes. Firmly cupping the boy’s flushed cheeks, Jay wiped away the tears and scolded: “That’s not a way I wanna hear you talk about yourself. You hear me? You’re not an empty weight but you’re right, we shouldn’t be dragging you around. You should be in bed and nowhere else.” – “We’re glad to have you with us, Sunoo-yah. We love you but we’d much rather know you’re resting”, Jake shushed, squeezing the boy’s hand, “It hurts my heart to see you spreading yourself so thin and still push yourself while you’re not okay.” – “Sleep, so you can get better for us, ‘kay?”, Heeseung smiled, covering Sunoo’s eyes with his hat to shield him from the light. Hopefully, he’d get some shut-eye before their meeting.

Despite his friends’ reassurances, going to sleep with so much self doubt in his mind proved to be a bad idea, no matter how badly Sunoo needed the rest. He should’ve known better. Hell, he had been sick frequently enough to know he didn’t cope well with fevers. They always messed with his emotions and he also had a tendency to get vivid fever dreams and nightmares. It was easy to be fooled by these illusions his fever muddled brain conjured up and they never failed to break Sunoo’s heart. How did he even make it through i-land? If he was so obviously unfit to be an idol, how did he manage to become one and why did the members still lie to him and tell him they wanted him in their group, despite him only holding them back?

He was all alone, which shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise. It had only been a matter of time till the members would leave him behind, heading for a much brighter future without him. Still, it hurt, knowing to not be enough for them, despite always giving it his all. What else could he do?

Sitting up with a gasp, Sunoo doubled over coughing. His heart thumped in his chest, making it difficult to notice anything else. Like, the hands on his arms for example. Supporting his dongsaeng’s shoulders with one hand, Jay patted his back with the other but tensed when the younger choked on a sob. Jake offered Sunoo a hand, which the other desperately clutched onto, finally realizing that he wasn’t alone.

“It’s just a nightmare. You’re safe”, Jake promised, giving his dongsaeng’s hand a gentle squeeze, “Look around, Sunoo-yah. Where are we, hm?” Sniffing back tears, Sunoo glanced around the room. Looking up at Jake, he pouted: “We’re at the studio. You guys are here…. I thought you had left me.” – “You know we wouldn’t do that, hyung”, Niki denied, hugging the older. Uncapping Sunoo’s water bottle, Jungwon encouraged him to have a few sips and confirmed: “We wouldn’t leave you, we want you here with us but I’m not sure that is actually a good idea right now.” Sunoo looked at the leader with tears in his eyes. “You’re doing worse every day, hyung. Maybe you should take a couple of days off to recover. It’s not gonna get better if you don’t give yourself that time”, Jungwon elaborated.

“Wonnie isn’t wrong”, Heeseung broke the tense silence, “The decision is up to you and no matter how you choose, we’ll support you, just know that you don’t have to force yourself to attend that meeting for our sake. We won’t think any less of you if you decided you’d rather go home and lay down.” Sitting up a little straighter, Sunoo accepted the tissue Sunghoon handed him and cleaned himself up. He sniffled back the thick congestion in his sinuses before rasping: “I can sit through a meeting, hyung. Not gonna lie though, I’m really glad to go back to the dorm afterwards. As much as I’d want to be included in all our schedules, I accept that I’m not well enough to dance right now. My bed really sounds like heaven.” – “As hyung said, however you choose, we’ll try to support you to the best of our abilities, so how about I get more tea and we get you medicated”, Jake offered, already turning to leave the studio.

“Let’s try to get you as comfortable as possible to sit through the meeting and if you want, we can watch a drama for some quality time tonight”, Jay smiled softly, stroking Sunoo’s hair, “I hope you’ll one day be able to see yourself the way we see you.”

[total-drama-brainrot]

I'll be honest all I can think of is P!Noah's family react to his tv persona.

Like, they know the littlest of their family is a little unhinged but they know he's not bloodthirsty so they're just a wee bit confused.

(And since Noah has, like, 8 sisters I just like to imagine the rest of their giant family is COMPLETELY normal. Like, they have their own individual quirks like anyone else but they're just normal people.)

If you can't tell one of my favorite dynamics is gremlin x just some guy but in this au it's multiple "just some guy“s and it's platonic.

And they've never actively troed to real P!Noah in either btw. They're perfectly content with their little adrenaline junkie baby brother.

Though it does make me wonder how they react in the P!Noah getting stabbed ask

No, see, this is a part of the AU that I actually have some thoughts for.

P!Noah's whole schtick wouldn't be achievable without the showrunners being aware that he's not really gonna do anything to permanently harm the other competitors- it'd be a PR nightmare to justify having an actual loose canon on the show risking the safety of the other teens. So, at the very least, the producers would know that a lot of his threats of violence or otherwise concerning behaviour are an act. (Or an exaggeration of his wilder tendancies.)

Thankfully, canon has its' own subtle little explanation for keeping someone so 'dangerous' around - Izzy's audition tape(s). In those, Izzy states that she'll do her best to "not be boring", which is probably the line that cemented her inclusion in the show. She's kept around as a conflict starter and an audience engagement device, since her antics are so entertaining to watch.

In a similar vein, in p!Noah's audition tape he explains that he's only auditioning for the show out of boredom, and he mostly sees the whole experience as a relatively quick cash grab - after all, he's wicked smart and plenty talented; it'd be child's play to outperform the other contestants (keep in mind, pretty much all of the OG cast were under the impression that Total Drama was going to be something more akin to a talent-based competition at an island resort). He explains that he's not really interested in the show itself, but it could be fun to spend his summer somewhere new where people don't know him or his eccentricities.

At this point in time, Noah's already got his gameplan planned and set; he's already presenting himself as the stoic and somewhat egotistical bookworm, which honestly isn't too far from his actual personality. Save for his psychotic tendancies, that is. Of course, Noah really is smart - smart enough to know that if he came in guns blazing to an audition tape for what is at it's core a social game, he probably wouldn't be picked.

And then the video is interrupted by one of his siblings, who points out that Noah's idea of "fun" generally consists of tormenting the people around him, providing examples of his more daring pranks from a seemingly endless list.

Then more of his siblings join in, all the while Noah stares towards the camera with a smug smile, which only grows wider - unnaturally wide, with hints of unusually sharp teeth poking from stretched-thin lips - as they share transgression after transgression. The tape ends without elaboration, nothing but a still frame of Noah's sinister smirk.

These pranks themself start off pretty tame sounding, like rigging water balloons full of vinegar above doorsteps. They quickly devolve into Noah cutting the breaks on his teacher's car after recieving an unfair grade, mowing down his classmates on a renegade bumper cart during a school trip to a theme park, and things along those lines. Chris, and more importantly the producers, feel a sense of sadistic kinship with the little psycho after hearing about his dangerous endeavours, and cast him on the spot.

So he's chosen to compete for a similar reason as Izzy; to wreak havoc in an entertaining way, and hopefully to kickstart drama.

His family are fully aware of this, though they don't fully anticipate the gleeful sort of vigour Noah has towards tormenting his castmates whilst remaining undetected... by the castmates. They do, however, expect Noah's sly grins and menacing smirks he throws towards the cameras before each successful prank he pulls off with Izzy. And the blank, uncannily empty stares he fixes towards the audience from the background of challenge footage - as if Noah himself can see through the lens into their souls.

After all, they've dealt with him for his whole life. They know his tricks, they've lived his tricks. The whole family has become accustomed to their baby brother who doesn't fully understand concepts like morality and empathy and, as such, can be a little silly sometimes. And they all know just how committed Noah can be to things he finds fun and interesting.

Their first bout of genuine surprise is during one of his later confessionals, when Noah gets too into the persona he's cultivated and starts portraying himself as violent and out for blood.

In Noah's head, he's just upping the ante of his metasocial game. For his family? They know he isn't nearly as violent as he's portraying himself as.

Sure, he's a little impulsive and thrill-seeking, but he's never had a fascination with blood or sharp objects of whatever else he tries to claim in the confessional. When Noah gets home from his stint on Island his siblings are lining up to berate him for his act - doesn't he realise how dangerous portraying himself as an unstable lunatic for the world to see is?

He justifies that anyone who believed his act is an idiot. It's reality TV - anyone with half a brain knows that things are exaggerated for entertainment purposes. He was just giving the editors something good to work with.

Noah is promptly dogpiled by eight irate older siblings.

(I'm also a big fan of "gremlin & just some guy", in this case it's gremlin & many exasperated some guys who aren't afraid of the gremlin. The rest of his family are perfectly normal people who just so happen to know how to deal with somewhat morally bereft hijinks and tomfoolery thanks to their youngest member. P!Noah has an incredibly healthy home life, he's just like that by design.)

As for the stabbing ask; I'm not sure if I want that little scenario to be "canon" to this AU, (and if it is, it'll be re-written with things like context in mind, as opposed to the shitty sleep-deprived drabble I wrote way back when) but if any of his family witnessed Noah being stabbed on international TV the whole brood would be storming the network's headquaters and/or chasing down the Jumbo Jet to get to him. He's The Baby™, you can't stab The Baby™. (Though, inwardly, they'd all agree that it was karma in action. Noah was tempting fate by playing around with knifes for so long, it was only a matter of time before someone got stabbed.)

[thesandwichdaddy]

Whiplash

{Alice/Andrew-Whiplash}

(TW: smut, light oral (fem receiving), fingering, questionable scenario?, light mentions of blood, Teacher x student (CONSENSUAL AND OF AGE), sub! Andrew)

I would love feedback on all of my work ! I try to make the original characters non descriptive as possible. Alice is replacing Fletcher in this. Hopefully you like it LOVE YOU ❤

3.5k words

Pure hell was the only thing Andrew could think of to describe Alice’s class. She was a cruel, sadistic music teacher who no one ever dared to challenge. Only pure insanity and masochism could drive a man to take her class.

And that was Andrew, always craving the thrill of a challenge—something to make him feel alive. Maybe it was the pure boredom and constant pity he was raised with, or maybe it was his curiosity that made him make the decision.

Although this wasn’t the idea in the beginning, A music college far, far away from his family—that's all he wanted. And sure enough, in the usual college setting, boring bullshit came in the mail, and while looking through it mindlessly, something caught his eye. A request to Schaffer was hand-picked by Alice Lambert herself.

Maybe that’s when his ego grew. There was definitely a change in him at that moment. He obsessed over it, googling anything he could about the school and Alice, trying desperately to find a reason for them to pick him to join. Was it his gpa? Something that they were specifically looking for other than just his skill? There wasn’t any way that someone like him could actually be brought to Schaffer.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t find a single other reason than Alice simply liking his performance. Andrew laughed like a madman, feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Now, though he didn’t really care too much about college, he wasn’t clueless to know that Schaffer was a big deal—maybe not to his parents, but who cared about them anymore? Andrew is an adult now; all that matters now are his thoughts about himself. Or at least that’s what he thought.

It wasn’t hard to imagine a skinny, awkward boy’s first day of college and his first day in Alice‘s class. Sure, he had heard horror stories about her, some classmates whispering to him about the outrageous things she’s done. He could even find pictures of her previous classes winning awards. It was hard to imagine that someone like her could do the things he'd heard, but he could see the intimidation radiating off of her through his computer screen.

Her eyes were sharp and analytical. She was an independent, well-dressed woman. She looked neat and professional in her photos, with the charming smile she gave as she looked at the camera and wore that casual blouse and suit. There wasn’t ever a bad angle with her; she’d probably kill the photographers if there were.

Something caught Andrew's attention about her, and it wasn’t just her looks. She hadn’t been teaching long, from what he’s seen, only around two years. And she didn’t look much older at all. It almost infuriated him that someone this close to his age had already mastered and earned a job he had dreamed of having.

When he saw her in person, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He closely watched her face, every small reaction to indicate any sign of emotion other than the cold that she gave usually. Though her face didn’t budge when he walked in, she was just introducing him and telling him where to sit. Something about her voice sent a chill down Andrew's spine. Maybe it was him just needing to get used to hearing such a woman every day, or maybe it was how she said his name, which he hadn’t heard from someone in quite a long time.

Andrew kept it as cool, distant, and professional as he could. Hell, he even bought new clothes just for her class; that black blouse she had on today put his white dress shirt to shame. But he tried not to get insecure; it was much too early for that.

Despite his ego, which he was very aware of, he thought he did very well. Until Alice gave him a certain unimpressed look and just moved on after his performance. He could feel the blood rushing to his face in response as he tried to hold it together. I mean, nothing? Even a nod would be appreciated from her.

He tried harder, of course, and waited and waited. One thing Alice did tell him was that he was off-tempo—not so great, but something—an interaction with him at least. But that repeated in his head over and over and over as he stayed up late at night to practice until his hands bled. The next day, it was his tempo that was wrong again. He swore it was fine, but he quickly adjusted his tempo. Alice walked over closer and asked him to try it again.

Andrew was starting to sweat a bit now, getting nervous as she came closer, but he tried again, looking up at her after he was done to watch her expression.

He envied how she could hide her emotions so well. She gestured for him to go again, a blank look on her face, and he went again. It turned into again and again and again. He thought he was going to go insane. Alice’s patience looked like it was thinning with every passing moment. Andrews hands started to hurt, crimson red smearing on his drumstick as he played. But she didn’t care, so he didn’t care, just listening to her tell him what to do, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong.

Three hours he spent at his drum set, endlessly repeating the same beat, trying to find the goddamn tempo. It was remarkable that Alice stood in the same spot the entire time, watching him. He didn’t stop, not until the blood caused his drumstick to slip out of his bleeding, agonizing hands, forcing him to quit. And with that, Alice stared at him and gave a simple

“Needs work.”

Andrew couldn’t believe it; he didn’t want to believe it. Needs work?! Before he could say anything that might cause him to lose his hands, he picked up his drumsticks and left along with the other class in a hurry to conceal the anger and tears starting to form in his eyes. That was just one of the many things he had to endure from Alice.

He tried reminding himself that he was here for a reason. He stared at the letter Alice had sent to him, which he kept on his dresser. The one thing that felt right. The only thing he cared about. He thought of all the possibilities of her being proud of him as he bandaged and wrapped his sore, bleeding hands. He let out a harsh noise of frustration as he felt the sting of his wounds and the thought of what happened today.

He hated her; he couldn’t stand her. He hated how she had so much power over him that he would do anything, as she made him rethink his view of his own abilities. He knew himself. He reminded himself again that the only thing that matters is what he thinks about himself.

Days turned into weeks, and then into months. He did feel like he was improving on his drumming, just nothing else. He couldn’t eat or sleep; his mind was always occupied with her class. Every fiber of him was filled with hate towards her, but that was drowned by a whole other feeling, a desperate urge that he craved more than anything in his life. He realized he needed Alice’s praise. Her validation. It didn’t matter what he thought of himself; it just mattered what Alice thought of him.

Andrew felt like he was going crazy. Maybe it was because he didn’t get it from his parents enough, but he couldn’t explain it; he had never felt this way before about someone. He spent more and more of his night’s crying into his pillow, desperate to get rid of his undying ache for her. How could he hate someone so much and need her at the same time?

He couldn’t take it anymore. He got up, tired of crying, and put on his dress shirt, jacket, and shoes quickly. He didn’t care if it was Saturday; he didn’t care if it was 11 p.m.; he needed to see her.

He knew that woman didn’t sleep; she would be there. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but it didn’t matter. He closed the door to his dorm and strode over to her class, wiping his eyes with his sleeve quickly. He ignored the cold and dark outside hitting him; the only thought was his aching.

After a short trip to her class, he threw open the heavy door, marching over to her side office, and just as expected, Alice was there at her desk, paperwork on the table, and a coffee next to her. Her eyes shot up at him in a questioning manner at his sudden burst into her office at this hour. Before she could argue, she stopped herself and looked at him. He looked like a mess, his clothes messy and his eyes red and pricked with tears, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily, staring down at her with a desperate expression.

“Miss…”

He said, between breaths, and tears were threatening to fall down his face. Alice stood up, her expression turning into utter confusion as she came around her desk and stood in front of him.

"What's wrong with you, boy?”

She asked, searching his face for any indication of an answer and having to look up a bit at him due to the height difference. Before Andrew could even think about it, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her and stuffing his face in her chest like a child. A choked sob was heard muffled from him in her chest. He wasn’t going to let go. Alice was utterly bewildered at this. How had she been able to push someone to this point? Especially Andrew, for that matter. With hesitation, Alice sighed and slowly brought one of her hands to his hair and her other to his back, making a desperate noise escape Andrew as he held tighter. He didn’t care about his dignity anymore; he just wanted Alice. His protector.

Nothing was said for a moment before Andrew slipped down to his knees, his grip on her still tight as he pressed his face into her waist, looking up at her with his red and wet eyes, making small hums and whimpers under his breath at his ache finally starting to soothe.

Though it was stern, Alice's face even gave away a slight blush as she held his hair in her hand and her breath hitched slightly at his closeness to her waist.

He took in her expensive scent, his cheek slightly feeling her cold belt buckle as he pressed against her on his knees. Never in this life had he felt so desperate or so excited from the moment. He started to breathe her in deeply, calming himself down as his hands started to travel from her back to her thighs, making Alice jump slightly. She gripped his hair, making him look up at her sternly, trying to regain any control over the situation she could.

"Speak, Neiman, what is the meaning of this?”

She said it in an authoritative voice. Andrew groaned as she gripped his hair tightly, his eyes lidded as he looked up at her. He didn’t care if she acted upset at him; if she actually was, she would’ve already gotten him off of her. But she didn't; he was still right here, and she was with him.

“Miss, praise me, please. Anything. Just tell me how to please you, and I will."

He babbled almost incoherently to her, her hands on her thighs gripping harder. Alice’s eyes widened for a moment at this revelation, and she couldn’t help but feel something inside of her fill with that feeling she had craved for a long time. A small breath escaped her, her stern expression starting to crumble. Andrew noticed this and immediately became excited, pulling back to press his face against her waist and his hands coming up to grab and massage her, his hands slowly kneading and groping her just like he always had dreamed of doing to her.

Alice was turning into a mess by the second, desperately trying to keep that professionalism, but she wasn’t used to this, not at all; no one had needed her this badly. And she didn’t hate it—not at all; it felt quite good, actually. She wasn’t sure what to do besides just let him, making eye contact with him, his desperate hooded and red eyes looking up at her, his tears stopping a while ago.

He saw her pleasure and immediately used it as a way to earn his praise. He wanted to please her so much—much more than just as his music teacher. His face trailed down, him kissing her over the fabric of her thin pants, making Alice gasp and take a step back, but unsuccessfully getting away because of Andrew pulling at her harder. Alice gave a grunt at him, Andrew continuing to kiss her desperately like a starved dog, and bit back any further noises at her sensitivity.

“Andrew”

She said it sternly, trying to keep her authority and control over the situation, but her warning fell on deaf ears. Andrew's hands are now coming to her belt, pulling at it as he kisses her. On one hand, Alice knew she should stop him, but on the other, she’s never felt this aroused before in her life. And Andrew knew this, a slight grin on his face as he started to see her giving in to her desires. Her firm grip on his hair started to slightly loosen, and Andrew took this as a chance to quickly pull down her pants, kissing over her underwear and the inner corners of her bare thighs.

Alice’s legs were starting to twitch at this point, threatening to give out on her as she sucked a sharp breath through her teeth. Andrew couldn’t wait; he seized his actions, standing and grabbing her hips, easily moving her onto the desk and towering over her. He pulled off her pants and held her legs, pulling them up and over his shoulders, giving her an almost predatory look. She realized in this moment how much power she actually didn’t have, and that thought excited her a bit more. He bent down to kiss her legs more, his hands running up and down the smoothness of them as he took his time, Alice leaning back on the desk with her hands gripping the edge for support. Andrew looked down at her for a moment, taking the sight of her in. The papers and coffee slipped their minds for now; it was unimportant right now; the only thing on their minds was each other.

He kept slightly tasting her, taking her time to lick, kiss, and nibble on her thighs, tightly holding them so she wouldn’t move. Soft groans and moans of satisfaction left his lips mixed with the sounds of Alice’s sharp breaths, her giving up on holding them back. He wanted more of her—so much more. His fingers slipped to the straps of her underwear, and he began to slip them off, his breath catching in his throat. The thought of him being the only one to see her was enough to drive him crazy alone. But this wasn’t about him; it was about her.

All Alice could do was lean back and watch him, her body almost overwhelmingly hot to the touch. Andrew wanted to tease her first, taking his sweet time to taste the soft flesh of her thighs, which earned a growl from Alice.

"God, Andrew, you really know how to get on my nerves."

She said it lowly to him, which caused him to give a chuckle against her skin.

“Not the right tempo?”

Andrew asked with a grin, and before she could answer, he brought his face down between her legs, firmly holding them open, shutting her up. Alice couldn’t feel mad, not when Andrew was pleasuring her like this. The sensation was almost overwhelming as a sharp moan tore from her, making Andrew moan himself in response to her wet flesh. She tasted better than he imagined, and he imagined more than she could ever believe. He just wished she would’ve let him do it sooner; whenever she yelled at him, it seemed to fix everything.

Alice held on to the desk like her life depended on it, each loud moan she made making her wonder about the possibilities of being caught, but every time she would try to think about it, she was brought right back to Andrew, pleasuring her.

Andrew knew what he was doing; hell, he had even studied before he came over, watching different techniques in porn and even going as far as to research the woman’s anatomy. He wanted it to be perfect for her; she wouldn’t have it any other way. And to Andrew, it was perfect. Every moan and gasp that she has made everything in his life all worth it for this moment right here with Alice

She was making an absolute mess on her desk, which he would happily clean afterwards. But for now, he wanted more—so much more of her. He brought two fingers up to her, pressing and entering her with ease, his greedy mouth working as well. This made Alice loose herself almost completely, her back arching and her squirming at the overwhelming amount of pleasure. Andrew was more than prepared, one hand busy fucking her and the other pushing down on her lower stomach, both to hold her in place and to add to the pleasure. He was used to multitasking. Drumming was so much more useful than he ever thought.

Andrew looked up at her almost the entire time, wanting to remember every expression and noise that she made from him. His tongue relentlessly flicked back and forth, tasting her as he fucked her with his fingers rhythmically at a fast pace, trying to send her over the edge. He could tell she was getting close because her moans turned into desperate whines.

“Andrew…please…don’t…I’m-“

She pleaded, only making Andrew push harder into her. He wasn’t about to take any of her pleasure from her; Andrew himself needed this. He wanted her to stop yelling at him and start yelling for him. She created the most beautiful music for him, something he would never forget.

Her orgasm hit her like whiplash. Waves of pleasure flowed through her arched and sweaty body as Andrew guided her through it, making sure she got every ounce of pleasure she could from it. His hand moved gently out of her, making Alice groan in the absence of him, which he made up for by massaging her body softly and bringing his face up to kiss her stomach.

After her climax ended, she relaxed, leaning her head back on her desk, closing her eyes, and breathing deeply, recovering. For a moment, they didn’t speak; they just enjoyed it. Alice leaned up to look at him, thinking about what they had just done.

“Andre-“

He cut her off, gently pushing her back down and moving to open her drawer, pulling out something to clean her with. He softly smiled, handling her with care. Alice didn’t speak; her face was a bit flushed, and she secretly thought that it was very cute and sweet of him. But she wasn’t about to admit that—not right now, at least. Instead, she cleared her throat and spoke softly, her voice a bit raspy, which delighted Andrew.

“Have you gone through my drawers before?”

She said it lightheartedly, which earned him a chuckle.

“Maybe once or twice.”

He responded, finishing cleaning her and her desk before grabbing her underwear and pants and delicately putting them on her like she was a doll. She nodded, grinned at the answer, and let out a breath at the sensation of her clothes coming back. Andrew gave her a kiss on the cheek before picking and standing her up. The realization of her work and coffee came to him as his face turned into worry and pleading.

"Oh, Miss, I am so sorry."

He said before she placed a hand on his cheek, looking at him with her usual sharp expression which prevented him from saying more.

“They weren’t important.”

She said as she felt his smooth cheek with her thumb. Andrew was completely smitten by this, closing his eyes and sighing in relaxation. She kissed his cheek, making him snap open his eyes in disbelief, blood rushing to his cheeks. That’s all it took. After all of that, her kissing his cheek made him blush. God, he was crazy for her. She backed away from him, giving him a last pat on the cheek, her eyes looking into his almost intimately.

“Get some sleep, Andrew; you need it.”

She said this before leaving, leaving Andrew with a lovesick smile on his face. He knew she cared.

Things would be very different between them now, and for once in his life, he knew what he wanted.

[retrieve-the-kraken]

Okay, so to expand on my headcanons for next season of Young Royals:

- I think Simon will deal with a lot of media scrutiny, a lot of articles about him detailing every aspect of his life in magazines and tabloids, a lot of paparazzi following him around (think Kate Middleton when she was getting engaged to William, and Megan Markle when… well, all the time), and Simon will just try to continue with his life like normal, going to the bus stop to catch the bus to school, hanging with Rosh and Ayub, but always with a mob of paparazzi around. Simon won’t want any special treatment, he won’t want bodyguards or a private car there to take him to and from school, he won’t want any of that because for one thing he won’t understand that his life could be at risk now, and for another because he’s still a socialist and he doesn’t want taxpayers money going to protecting him just because he’s the Crown Prince’s boyfriend. But there would be a lot of reasons he could be in danger: being Latino (fun fact, did you know that there’s a Latina princess in a European monarchy already? The princess of Lichtenstein, Angela Brown, is Panamanian Afro Latina, she’s a fashion designer and she married Prince Maximilian of Lichtenstein in 2000. She was also the first woman of African descent to become a princess in a European monarchy, waaaay before Megan married Harry… but then again, neither Angela nor Megan married the Crown Prince of their respective monarchies, that’s why the monarchies were a bit more cool about it), being gay, being working class, being socialist, being a “class traitor”, etc. And I think Wille will be scared all the time that something might happen to Simon.

- I think this will also open up a big discussion of privilege, because as much as Wille might think he is aware of his own privilege, it’s still too embedded in him that things just happen for him, that things are simply at the tip of his fingers, like they have never been for Simon. But hopefully Simon will be understanding of that, as we see him begin to grasp the way that Wille has been raised when they discussed the book on season 2. And Wille hopefully will also understand why Simon wouldn’t want any special treatment. I think this might also make Wille consider how to use his Crown Prince title to do some good, become a figure of change and kindness (like William and Harry who continued their mother’s work, who have worked with mental health organizations, etc… sorry for all the references to the British monarchy, it’s the one that I know the most about, that and the Spanish monarchy, I know nothing of the Swedish monarchy, it’s just that, in comparison, it’s very… uncontroversial, and thus very… boring I guess. Same as other European monarchies. The Brits take the prize.)

- I think the people around them will also act differently toward them both. The students at Hillerska are still a very privileged and classist bunch, and they still regard Simon as not one of their own, so I think Wille will be a little extra annoyed at that whilst Simon will carry on like normal. I think that Wille will be like ‘I don’t expect you to give him special treatment, but I expect you to respect him like he deserves’, and some people will be cool with it and others not so much. I think Simon will be like ‘whatever, I’m used to it’, but Wille will continue to be defiant. I think those who will still be toadying to the prince will also somewhat start toadying to Simon as well. The teachers and staff will probably also be a little lenient toward Simon just because he’s Wille’s boyfriend, and Simon will be annoyed that he’s inadvertently getting some kind of special treatment.

- That is until the media start digging into other parts of his life, like Micke. (Remember when Megan was about to marry Harry and there was a big interview with her father, with whom she didn’t have a good relationship, and that side of her family got all conflictive, calling Megan uppity and saying that she thought she was better than them?) I fear that Micke will be all too willing to talk proudly about his son, but that’s not what the media will be looking into, they will be looking into dark secrets, and it will bring back a lot of trauma to the surface. Hopefully this will also open at last a serious discussion between Simon and Wille about Simon’s family, and it will explain why Simon can be so guarded with his feelings. I think at that point Simon might let Wille use his influence to protect him.

- The prospect also of the stolen medication and Simon’s “dealing” and Micke’s addictions and how it might reflect on Simon, will force Simon and Wille to obtain special treatment to make the potential scandal go away. They will have to deal with August and all the boys from the Society who knew where the meds came from. They will be forced to face the consequences of the mistakes they made, or they might make new mistakes in their attempt to cover it up. But hopefully they will be communicating the entire time, there won’t be any more secrets between them.

- Speaking of August, I don’t know if at this point the Royal Court will want to get involved in protecting him, so he will have to protect himself. Also at this point I don’t know how he can defend himself at all, no chance of using Alexander as a scapegoat anymore because the one accusing him is Sara who actually saw him posting the video. But it’s a witness account, so maybe it’s tricky…? He could very well say that she’s throwing false accusations at him out of spite, or that she was trying to manipulate him since he’s the next in line for the throne. He might use the stolen meds and accuse Sara of stealing them instead, since the meds are still in her father’s name so he might say it could have been her. She might still be a minor, and the charges would be less severe, but her future would be effectively ruined. And what chance does a poor girl with ADHD and autism spectrum disorder have against the second in line for the Swedish monarchy?

(EDIT: @cahaya-dreaming pointed out that Sara is not a minor anymore, because I completely forgot that they confirm in episode 2 that she’s actually eighteen. So yeah, even bigger deal!)

- I don’t know if Simon will ever forgive Sara for what she did, but he would never let anything bad happen to her no matter what, especially since she tried to make amends by going to the police. But how would the Erikssons ever defend themselves in that situation? They can’t, they don’t have any money for good lawyers. So Wille will have to help them, probably against the Queen’s demand to Wille not to get involved. The media will have a field day, the Crown Prince is accusing his own cousin of filming and leaking the sex video.

- I think there’s a slight chance that Micke himself might take the fall for the meds, that he might come forward and say that he dealt directly to the Hillerska kids, as a way to compensate for everything he did to his children, I don’t know… that would be extra dramatic.

- Someone mentioned that they fear August might try to hurt Wille, like physically hurt him (just like Wille seemed willing to do to August in ep 6) to get him out of the way and get the Crown himself, or just as revenge. And I think there’s a chance that he might become unhinged enough for that. I also fear that he might hurt himself, that his addiction might play a role in that, that his body image issues and addiction might be indicators of something akin to what afflicted his father and caused him to die by suicide. As much as I dislike August I wouldn’t want that to happen to him. I want him, instead, to own up to his mistakes, but he is too power-hungry for that, so my main fear, and this would make for a pretty dramatic scene, is him trying to literally end Wille. Or Simon. Or both.

- In other lighter, sweeter headcanons, I expect that we will get a lot of soft Wilmon moments in season 3. As I said, I want Wille hanging out with Rosh and Ayub, playing videogames at Simon’s house, I want Wille going with Simon to watch Rosh play football, I want them doing all the regular things that Wille has always wanted to do with his boyfriend that he’s never had a chance. I want them cuddling, I want them watching scary movies and curling up into each other for protection, I want Wille helping Linda in the kitchen, I want her making him Venezuelan dishes, I want Wille showing her that he’s learning Spanish and asking her to keep it a secret because it’s a surprise for Simon. I want Wille in Duolingo leaning Spanish and being very secretive and Simon getting nervous because Wille seems to be hiding something and Wille being like ‘it’s not a secret, it’s a surprise’ and promising to tell him what it is soon. I want them to trust each other, I want them to heal from their past mistakes and dishonesties. I kinda want Walter Henry barging into Wille’s dorm and catching them in the midst of fucking like “Hey Wille wanna come with us to- OH SHIT SORRY!” “Walter Henry, do you ever fucking knock?” “Guys guys, I just walked into Wille and Simon fucking in Wille’s room,” “Yeah, what else is new?”. I want them holding hands in the hallways, I want them wearing each other’s clothes, I want them having picnics by the fountain and fawning over each other, I want the other students to get cavities from how sweet these two are with each other. I want Heartstopper-level of lovey-dovey displays of affections between these two. (Edit: I can’t believe an entire week passed before I realized that I wrote Walter instead of Henry…)

- Meanwhile, we can all agree that Nils totally wanted to hook up with Wilhelm, right? Part of me thinks that was purely ‘hey if it happens, it happens’, but also what if Nils is just trying to be all casual about it but it’s totally wishful thinking? I think Nils could turn out to be a little jealous of how for Wille there’s no such thing as hooking up but he’s totally in love with Simon, how little he cares that people know that he’s queer, whilst Nils still keeps his sexuality a secret. But also what if he’s a bit jealous of Simon? They’re both be men of color, but Nils is rich, he has the upbringing, he has the influence, he is older, he knew Erik, in his mind he should be a better match for the prince than Simon. I think the fact that he sort of became Wille’s confidante and Wille in turn became his confidante, and that he repeatedly gave Wille some awful advice in regards to Simon might come into play later. I think he was definitely secretly hoping that Wille would have wanted to hook up with him just to get over Simon, and that’s going to be a thing later (if Nils is still around for season 3, who knows how much time will have elapsed by then).

- I hope that Wille continues to go to therapy, and he slowly learns how to deal with his anxiety and panic attacks. I need Boris to tell him that he needs to talk to Simon about it, that that is still something that he hasn’t told Simon about (or even better, I want Wille to come to that realization himself), but I imagine something will happen first that will trigger a panic attack and Simon will finally be there to see it and help Wille through it, and Wille will have to apologize for not telling him sooner, then telling him all about it. If you’ve never had a panic attack, it can sometimes feel like you’re having an actual heart attack; if you’ve never seen someone having a panic attack, it can actually look like the person is having a heart attack. In other words, it can be scary as shit. So I imagine Simon will be terrified.

- I wonder if we will find out why Erik went to regular therapy. I wonder if the Queen told him to go too. I wonder what more we will find out about Erik. EDIT: i meant to write “why Erik went regularly to therapy…

- If the series doesn’t end in a time-jump to graduation day, I will be in shock. I want them posing for official pictures together, I want them posing for silly pictures with Linda, I want them super happy and thinking about their future together. I want Simon getting a freaking record deal, and not because his boyfriend is the Crown Prince, but because he is that talented.

Sorry for the long post, I think I’m thinking too much about this instead of just rewatching season 2 again and again, as I should. My headcanons will probably change somewhat by then, but this is what’s in my mind right now.

[whoslaurapalmer]

hopefully you don’t still have a sinus headache!

recently, i’ve been thinking about baby bea getting to go to normal school and making non-vfd friends her own age, and violet, klaus and sunny having messy complicated feelings and fears about this but mostly being very happy for her.

yes!! thankfully i am now sinus headache FREEEEE

and!!!! AAAAAAAA YES..........

i think sunny and babybea both get to go to normal school and they have like, similar but, different struggles re: interacting with people at school. sunny purposely distances herself from her classmates for a long time bc she's Going Through It when she and her siblings come back from the island and before they find babybea, like there's a lot of mystery around this girl who just showed up and she heavily encourages the mystery bc she doesn't have the patience to deal with anybody while she's trying to fit back into the world, her life, trying to find her sister, trying to figure out what she remembers of the past and what she doesn't. (i am team 'sunny remembers the events of canon physically more than she actually truly remember-remembers them, but remembers the island the best.' do we have metaphorical teams for how much sunny remembers of canon?) i think she.......feels like she has to contend with the legacy of not only lemony's books but geraldine's punctilio articles, more than violet and klaus. ANYWAY. all this to say, in the nature of children, certain kids have a real laser focus on kids they think are Weird Or Different and sunny fits both of those things and she's definitely 1) been in a few fights bc she reacts physically 2) grabbed a kid's arm and bit him. it was not a pleasant parent-teacher conference for violet. by high school she's probably a little better. they have babybea back and have created the extended baudelaire family unit and i think she feels a little more secure in the world. as secure as a fourteen year old can feel...........................she gets encouraged to take the culinary elective in high school.

sunny, with deep-seated certainty, while using a ruler and an enormous knife to cut petit fours in the kitchen: can't teach me anything i don't know.

but she takes it anyway. she enjoys it greatly and does, in fact, learn new things. she makes some friends.

ANYWAY. YES. BABYBEA. she's spent so much time alone, and she's good at it. she enjoys it. but she really wants friends she just doesn't quite know how to do it. she's very close to her family, and she loves them more than anyone else, but she'd like to be close to other people her own age too, it's just not something that comes very naturally to her. but she LOVES school and she really likes being around people. her interests are just. not. necessarily. aligned. with her classmates. babybea herself has been in a vfd school, after all, along with all the Lemony Snicket Was Briefly Her Guardian While Helping Her Find Her Family And I Am Sure That Was A Real Time shenanigans. she does find it easier to talk to the adults (plus sunny) in her life and it's hard for her. clearly they encourage it bc As Adults they are aware, theoretically, It Is Good For A Child To Have A Super Normal Upbringing That DOESN'T Involve, Say, Scaling A Mountain For Reasons (even though literally every single one of them has scaled a fucking mountain. babybea included.), but yeah, there ARE complicated messy feelings!!!! violet and klaus didn't really get to finish their education the way they should've. lemony and the sbg were entrenched in vfd. sunny is, see previous paragraphs. i guess it's a lot of heightened parenting emotions. is your child safe at school vs is the small child you have guardianship over safe at school and TOTALLY not going to be, say, kidnapped by the ankle one random day. are the people your children knows people they're going to be safe with? normal parenting fears vs a vfd fear. sigh. and it's not like violet and klaus easily get along with the parents of babybea's classmates bc they aren't her parents. they're siblings and they're babybea's Family. there's things they can talk about but there's still a real disconnect, you know?

meanwhile babybea is just going 'have you seen [black and white movie of your choice]??' and her classmates are going '............no??' sigh, again.

but i think she wants to join band!!!!!!! oh.....babybea as a little band kid.................so i think she learns the accordion from lemony, and either the school system she's in is That Weird (as some are) that they need an accordion or, she plays the clarinet. god she's probably drum major in high school i'm sobbing. that's precious. also babybea is like permanently 10-13ish in my head bc otherwise i get upset about the passage of time bc she's BABY goddammit so it hurts to think about her as any older than that but let's think of her as drum major in the far, far distant future.

anyway anyway band is great for her!! a lot of the other kids in her year look up to her bc she develops a wide music (and music theory) knowledge and they go to her for help a lot and she's so thrilled and so pleased and that's how she really starts interacting with other kids. eventually they talk about more than just music, but one must start somewhere. the first time she goes over a friend's house is Harrowing for the adults, but they survive. but babybea's friends LOVE going to her house bc the baudelaire household feels very comforting and homey. nothing beats a friend's homey house and violet and klaus' spirited (if minorly overbearing bc they love babybea) hospitality. they also think sunny is super cool. (everybody has a crush on sunny. she almost gets concerned about it, but she is the coolest.)

babybea's friends: your sister is THE COOLEST babybea: she's not my sister, she's my family? babybea's friends: so, like, your sister babybea: no! just. family. babybea's friends: then who's that guy lemony: ? babybea: that's my uncle. babybea's friends: so why is sunny not your sister? babybea: because!

oh! so babybea starts a book club. her friends suggest it bc the baudelaire family library is so big and has so many books and so many fun places to read, that she and her friends have a lot of fun hanging out and reading books. lemony takes the news with deep horror and trepidation. but it all works out okay. the worst the book club gets is like, a bunch of kids arguing about who gets to be which character in each book they get obsessed with. which can be vicious enough, you know. sometimes babybea gets them to sit down and watch an old movie. occasionally, in the spirit of all good book clubs, they get pizza.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

In your opinion, please rate thg movie series with 1-5 scale.

(1 = I hate it, 3=neutral, 5 = I love it.)

1.The Hunger Games :

Things that you like :

Things that you don't like :

2.Cathing Fire :

Things that you like :

Things that you don't like :

3.Mockingjay

Movie 1 :

Movie 2 :

Things that you like :

Things that you don't like :

Thank you 😊

@curiousnonny

So let me preface my ratings here by saying that I really think these books are already so well edited in terms of necessary content that making a movie version of any of them is a mistake. Maybe I'm biased and greedy, but I honestly feel like 99% of the scenes in the books play a crucial role in either plot, character, or theme development and removing them waters down the story too much, in my opinion. I would much rather have seen a series version on screen than a movie. Not to mention, Collins made her name as a writer in television, and you can SEE IT in how she writes her novels. It's structured like a TV series so it should've been shot like a TV series. Anyways. So my rankings are gonna be... kinda low for the movies. Sorry not sorry.

But also... my thoughts on this are fresh. My youngest was supposed to read The Hunger Games with his 6th grade class. The teacher sent home a form requesting parents' permission to do so. I signed it gladly and sent it back, but apparently there were a lot of parents who sent it back with complaints instead of approval. Enough that the class read the first Percy Jackson book instead. I'm fine with that too, lol, especially since my kiddo really liked it and is now on book five of that series. I've been trying to reread along with him and will hopefully be catching up to him this week, lol.

After his teacher switched books for the class reading, he and I decided we'd read THG books together once he's done with PJO, but then, my oldest skipped a field trip he really didn't wanna go on and wound up staying at school and watching... The Hunger Games and part of Catching Fire. He came home with QUESTIONS, which immediately sparked a "Hey, not fair!" from the youngest and prompted a movie marathon. We made it through all four movies back in March, and I'm still not forgiven for not warning him about Finnick btw...

Okay enough story time. *cracks knuckles*

The Hunger Games

Ranking: 2/5

Things I don't like: Ugh where to start? The removal of Madge and therefore the significance of Katniss's mockingjay pin as a symbol of wealth and power bestowed by the Capitol only to be flipped on its head and turned into a symbol of rebellion. Also, the implications of removing Madge in terms of how they tried to make Katniss into STRONG BADASS WO-MAN while dulling some of her softer edges and dependencies on other people. See also: leaving out the gift of bread from D11 to Katniss.

The dialogue is shit. Sorry, those are my thoughts. You already had really good dialogue in the book why change that? Also, the gutting of the dialogue results in the gutting of both Katniss and Peeta as characters. The first movie turns them into The Watson character, i.e. the character whose purpose it is to ask questions so that the audience can learn about the setting/plot/other characters/whatever. The first movie made Katniss and Peeta look naive and dumb about the Games and the very world they inhabit, which makes no sense for their characters. I get it. It's a storytelling technique to quicken up the process of world building and make up for the fact that we don't get to be in Katniss's head where she tells us what we need to know about her world. BUT their characters suffer for it. Katniss and Peeta are sixteen. Anyone who has interacted with a teenager knows that at that age, we usually have #OPINIONS on things, so in the books, both already have developing opinions about the Games because they are by necessity and by exposure aware of how the Games and the government essentially work. They've lived in this world long enough. They've started to develop opinions and world views, and they act accordingly. The first movie loses this completely from the books.

Do not get me started on the dialogue in the cave scenes we will be here until the next century if we go there.

Buttercup. Christ how hard is it to cast a yellow/orange cat?!?!?! Not that difficult. And granted, this is a minor detail in terms of symbols but at the same time... it's a minor detail. The fact that they didn't even bother showed a lack of caring about the details. Also see: Rock Peeta.

The stakes of almost everything are lowered, from the bread scene (we don't realize until MJ2 that she's literally starving and knocking on death's door in that scene) to the berry scene (and here it's Peeta knocking on death's door and Katniss is desperate to save him, enough to put POISON BERRIES IN HER MOUTH and risk her own life too)... the movie lacks the desperation for both of those crucial parts.

Peeta's leg Peeta's leg Peeta's motherfreaking amputated leg!!!!!!

Things I liked: The sound and sound editing. It's such a small thing, and I have a story to go with this okay? When I saw it in theaters, I disliked a lot of things, but one of them was something I could not put my fingers on. It bugged me for weeks until the movie came out on DVD (yes, I'm old and also saw it at the veeeeeeery end of its theater run where I live... like it was a $5 special...). Anyways. Mr. Kdnfb is an electrical engineer by education and is suuuuuper picky about our sound system in our house. So when I watched it at home, the Thing clicked in my brain. The SOUND. It had been Waaaaaay Off in a way that was awful in that theater for some reason. And once I watched it at home, there was just something about the way they did the sound that made a lot of what I had hated become less of A Thing to me. The more I've watched it, the more I've realized the sound and sound editing was excellent, and I put this as things I liked because my story goes to show how such a tiny thing can really screw up a movie.

Catching Fire

Ranking: 3.5/5 (Omg I'm gonna get barbecued for this one.)

Things I didn't like: See my caveat at the top. Okay, so. One of my biggest problems is just how much got cut to adapt this one to screen. Sooooo many scenes. Finnick "hanging" himself in training, "someone else can get the stupid goat knocked up," all the hullabaloo about the wedding is talked about but that doesn't happen in the movies, the setup for the existence of D13, the plant book and Peeta caring for an injured Katniss, training like Careers, scaring Peeta with the medicine, Katniss really starting to come around to the idea of a rebellion even before the Quell announcement, "Poor Finnick. Is this the first time you haven't been pretty?" Just so much cut for the sake of time and results in the story feeling rushed and sloppy ugh.

While the cast and crew for this one did a much better job adapting the dialogue to the screen, there are still a few crucial bits of dialogue that make me itch with hives. The post jabberjay scene and the death of the morphling mainly. Good lord. You finally let movie!Peeta be as eloquent and convincing as book!Peeta in D11, why not give him the space to do it in the arena, too?

Things I do like: The casting. Hear me out. After the first movie, I was still not entirely sold on Jennifer, Josh, and Liam for the roles they were playing. Really, the only main characters who live through the first movie that I was happy and 100% on board with with were Donald Sutherland, Elizabeth Banks, Woody Harrelson, and Stanley Tucci. Catching Fire is where I accepted Josh's portrayal of Peeta a little bit more, mainly because of the process of film making and what they put forth with CF showed me that he could nail the part if only they'd give him the dialogue and choose the cuts that best showed what he could do. I have no idea what sort of dialogue they were given or how much free reign they were allowed to improvise, but I do know that they will shoot a scene multiple times with multiple different delivery styles and slightly different dialogue. Which means that the actors really don't get a say on which version of their performance makes the final cut. But when the dialogue was spot on in the final version, I felt like Josh pulled off Peeta very well. I also think the way they shot CF allowed Jennifer Lawrence to put forth a better overall performance as well, although I'm still not in love with her as Katniss.

But really it's the Quell Victors/Tributes that I loved about CF. I went in unsure and came out convinced. My caveat here is that I tend to think of the movies as their own thing. The movie versions of the characters are their own iteration and I try really hard not to let them bleed into how I see or think of the characters in the books. That doesn't always happen, but I do try.

Okay this one is kinda not the fault of the first movie, but the increased budget for CF is apparent in several of the things that I liked, namely the costumes, the staging, the special effects. Much better all around.

Mockingjay Part 1

Ranking: 3/5

Things I did not like: Gale. MJ1 finishes off the complete removal of any depth Gale had as a character, a process that started with him rage rushing Head Peacekeeper Thread in CF and culminates here with him condemning Peete's words as a TORTURED PRISONER OF WAR rather than him not only intuiting what's probably happening, but explaining it to Katniss, then trying to protect Katniss from it, like he does in the books. The reason why book!Gale is so much more compelling to me than movie!Gale is because Gale's anger and fire and indignation has REASONING behind it in the book. It is chillingly easy to see the lines his reasoning could possibly take. As in... I've worked in weapons development and I have worked with real people who think like book!Gale or Beetee. Whereas movie!Gale is basically just RAWR!!! fury.

The rescue scene. I could write an entire essay on what's wrong with this, but it all boils down to they tried to shorten it by overlapping the video of the rescue with Finnick talking. Which makes zero military sense btw why the freak would you broadcast helmet video of your team going in on a stealth mission and risk someone intercepting it or noting the presence of an encrypted signal and figuring out what was going on holy hell you would NOT. You'd be freaking SILENT and just waiting to find out!!!!!!! And yes yes, but we need to see it. Okay, but you've already shown scenes with Snow and Seneca talking, Seneca and Haymitch talking, Snow and Plutarch talking, Snow and his granddaughter!!!! cuts from D11 and so much more that Katniss would not have seen, so play this like that. You can still show the audience but clearly keep Katniss and everyone back in D13 in the dark. The way it's shot is nonsensical and also pretty much waters down the horror of what Finnick went through and the impact of his words.

And while we're on this topic, they somehow used that overlapping and ridiculous video feed to try and shorten the scene, but wound up making it interminably and unbelievably long with the layers upon layers upon LAYERS of rooms the rescue squad has to go through and also the Skype Call of Inanity. The whole debacle is so freaking long that I no longer feel tense by the time it's finally over. It's so obvious that the Capitol is letting them take back Peeta, Annie, and Johanna because of how long a stealth mission (which should be almost too fast to process) takes that it becomes stupid for D13 to not suspect something. There's no desperation or high stakes for me with this scene because it's too long and too messy, makes no sense tactically and basically just erases all the emotional depth and pacing of what's in the books ugh. Seriously. You could've spent that time on the torture of the prep team or some of the Boggs and Katniss or Katniss and Finnick content we miss out on. Delly. Gale's siblings. Literally anything that you cut out. Rant over.

"He's gonna kill Peeta".... um no actually it's that Snow won't kill Peeta but keep dangling him in front of you, Katniss...

Things I did like: The sets. District 13 is... perfect. Sterile and drab and utilitarian. Zero luxury or any real sense that humans live there. There are zero personal touches in any of the spaces. No connections to art or joy or life.

Effie. I really wish we'd still gotten the prep team in D13, because it's an avenue through which we see how brutal and lacking in compassion D13 really is, but if it's Effie there with her for the movies, then Elizabeth Banks did a stellar job with what she was given to do. I do wish they'd allowed Finnick to keep his line: "They'll either want to kiss you, kill you, or be you." And if not that, then don't freaking cut the "Why, do you find this distracting?" scene. But overall, Effie in D13 works for me in terms of the movie universe.

Mockingjay Part 2

Ranking: 2.5/5

Things I didn't like: Facepalm worthy wigs and dye jobs. Dude. You are the final chapter of a big budget blockbuster franchise. I understand that the dye jobs have taken their toll and wigs may be just more practical for the actors at this stage, but DO BETTER with the money you have.

Just how much of Johanna they cut out of this part and what that does to Katniss's development.

The ending. It's so lackluster in so many ways. One of the things that I loved about the theme of the ending is how it shows that with the right kind of care, a life can be lived and be worthwhile even after the worst kinds of trauma. We get this through the sheer beauty of Katniss's final words in both the final chapter and the epilogue. To me, the movie ending felt just... blah. And I get that maybe they were aiming for a sense of calm and peace, but instead it came off as blah, we're broken and just going through the motions. Which makes sense right after the war ends, but not as the ending continues into the "Real" scene or the epilogue.

Mahershala Ali is highly underutilized in this movie. Let the man play the freaking part. He's already good with what you let him do. Let him unleash the acting chops and make Boggs sing as a character. And part of this has to do with what they cut from the film, like him carrying Katniss to the hovercraft in D8 and her vomiting on him. Same with Julianne Moore. Coin was not nearly cold or controlling enough nor did she convincingly clash with Katniss enough leading up to Peeta showing up in the Capitol.

The omission of the heartbreaking silence Katniss puts herself into and how they turned the sadness of the final breaking of her friendship with Gale into "Goodbye Gale." Ugh. I laugh at it, but it's not a good change. Like we can't allow a Strong Wo-Man Character to be sad or hurt about this, why not????

Burn. Scars. Burn. Scars. Burn. Scars. BURN! SCAAAAARRRRRRRSSSSSS!!!!!

Things I did like: The music. Odd pick I know, but even though the ending is not well done for me, I almost always start bawling the second Katniss starts singing the meadow lullaby as the credits roll. And that's just one weird instance of me liking the music for this film.

How they brought the hijacking to life. I can't even explain why this works so well, but it does. My only wish is that they'd given more time for the Real/Not Real game to develop on film and included more of Peeta's dialogue that shows both the struggle and him regaining parts of himself -- the cafeteria scene, his words to Pollux and Tigris for example.

And there you have it, @curiousnonny. My super long answer to your question. ;)

[banannabethchase]

Hi, hello! Prompt: 7. “Is this sexy? I feel like this is somehow sexy”, with c) Locked/trapped in a room together and/or d) Teachers AU, for hangmox? Thank you so much!!

Hangmox!

Rivals of the Year

~

Content warning: In this fic, there is a lockdown drill, but both characters are aware it is a lockdown. A character does exhibit anxiety around this, but it's not extreme and there's no anxiety attack. Read safely loves <3

...here have a preview of the Teachers AU Sarah put in my head that I now have to write At Some Point (it will not be actually started until Set the World Alight is completed as it is going to be Long. Hopefully no more than 25k but we all know how bad I am at estimating these things.)

~

Adam enjoys being one of the elective teachers. He usually only gets kids in his journalism class who actually want to be there, running the school newspaper is a hoot and a half, and, well, his hallmates don't suck, either.

His lunch time, absurdly early at 10:45, hits, and he makes his way down the hallway to grab his lunch from the teacher's lounge.

"Cowboy!" yells the man who is somehow both his favorite and least favorite. "How's my fellow teacher-of-the-year candidate?"

"On my way to schmooze more of the study body to vote for me," Adam shoots over his shoulder.

Jon Moxley, or Mox as all the kids and teachers call him, bumps Adam's shoulder with his. "You wish," he scoffs. "Like, fifteen kids take your classes altogether. I'm sure you'll win those fifteen votes, buddy." He claps Adam's shoulder, fingers lingering just a little longer.

Adam hasn't not noticed Mox. He hasn't missed the way Mox's eyes linger a little longer than professional, how his fingertips brush against Adam's hand when they sit next to each other to bitch through passed notes during staff meetings.

He's not willing to risk it, though. First, the union would have his head if he was wrong. And second...well, he's not sure it's possible. "Oh, fuck off. You and your forty-something students have nothing on Matt's kids who love me too."

"Ugh, the fucking drama teacher," Mox groans. "The only reason a Jackson didn't win again is because they were each Teacher of the Year the last two years." He rolls his eyes. "Anyway, we're scheduled for a lockdown drill today. Overheard Jackie in the main office mentioning it to Carla."

Adam goes slightly cold. "Oh."

Mox's eyes go kind and gentle. "Yeah, I mean - I know we're not supposed to know, but I remember what you said last time? About how they make you super anxious." He reaches out and bumps the back of his hand against Adam's. "I didn't want you to be scared."

"That's - that's incredibly sweet, Mox," Adam says.

"Yeah, I told some of my kids I know have similar reactions." Mox says, shrugging.

"I gotta go let Hailey and Jasmine know," Adam mutters. "And Logan. God, I hope Jacob's hear aids are charged..."

"Hey, breathe," Mox says, resting his hands on Adam's shoulders. "I'll go with you, check in on some of my kids who have me in the afternoon."

Adam nods. The two of them make their way down the hallway before the announcements click on, and Adam fills with dread. "Attention, Carter High School," comes the voice of the assistant principal, "we after in lockdown. Shelter, lock, windows."

Adam's about to freeze, but Mox grabs his arm and pulls him into the nearby photography room. Adam's about to mention to Mox that Hook's probably at lunch right now when Mox checks the warnings on the door, sees it green, throws the door open, and then yanks Adam in after him. Almost automatically, Adam pulls the door closed and falls against it.

"Okay," Mox whispers, face impossibly close to Adam's. "This is probably the safest place in the building. You okay?"

Adam blinks. "It's a drill, Mox."

"Yeah, but after the last drill I saw you paler than you usually are. This way, you know where to go if you ever find yourself on your own." As Adam's eyes adjust, he thinks he can see a smile on Mox's lips. "You okay?"

Adam takes inventory of his body. No shaking, no cold fingertips. His heart rate hasn't shot up, his thoughts aren't racing. "I'm okay," he says, sighing with relief. "Seriously, thanks for the heads up." He can't stop his eyes flickering from Mox's eyes, glowing lightly in the red light, and his lips. He thinks the way his heartbeat sped up is completely unrelated to the drill.

"Um," Adam says. He's not sure what he wants to say next. He's not sure what he's about to do.

"Okay, this is gonna be weird," Mox says. Adam can feel Mox's breath on his cheek. "But, like, is this sexy? I feel like this is somehow sexy."

Adam giggles. "Really?"

"I dunno," Mox says. Adam doesn't miss the way his eyes flicker down to Adam's lips. "Just. Dark room, we're alone, we've had that tension since, like, the beginning of the year."

Adam knows exactly what Mox is talking about. The teacher-themed Twister game. The first time Adam had ever really noticed how well Mox fills out a pair of jeans. "Alright," Adam concedes, still in a whisper. "Yeah, I could see how this could be sexy."

"And we're not even in our own classrooms," Mox says. "That would feel a little weird."

"Oh?" Adam says. "What could be weird?"

"I mean, if I kissed you in one of our classrooms, that would probably be pretty weird." He grins.

"Oh, definitely weird." Adam nods. "It's a really good thing we're not in one of our classrooms then."

Mox leans in so slowly it's like he expects Adam to lean away. Adam stays right there.

When Mox kisses him, Adam thinks he's seeing stars, and it's not just the red lights from the dark room behind his eyelids. The weight of it crashes on him like a wave and he can't help but settles his hands on Mox's hips. Mox pulls away, a tiny little smile on his lips. "God, you're cute," Mox laughs quietly. "Is it weird I'm kind of happy about the lockdown? I mean, terrible, reflection of the state this fucked up country is in, but for our personal needs it's not too bad, yeah?"

Adam nods. "I've definitely passed a lockdown in worse settings." He reaches up and adjusts his glasses on his nose. "So would you, um. Do you want to get coffee or something today? After work?"

"I don't know, Cowboy. Think that might be crossing a line."

Adam feels himself blush as red as the lights. "Oh, my god. Right. Sorry. I-"

"Oh, god, breathe," Mox says, settling his hands on Adam's shoulders. "That was a joke. I just kissed you. You asking me out is not over the line." He stares into Adam's eyes, and the urgency with which he whispers is almost comical. "I need to make sure you know it's a joke."

Adam chuckles, quiet. "Okay, yeah. So is that a yes?"

"I'll see you after school, Cowboy." He leans in and kisses Adam again, and Adam settles his hands on Mox's waist. He doesn't know how much time passes, but it's enough for him to jump when the principal's voice comes on the announcements saying, "All clear, Carter High. You may resume the normal schedule."

"You good, Adam?" Mox asks.

Adam nods. "Yeah. Just thinking about how we get out of here looking not like we've been making out in a closet the whole lockdown."

Mox snorts. "I was clearly being an upstanding citizen, and helped you to safety when I saw you were panicking." He grins. "Perfect addition to my teacher of the year pitch."

"Hey!" Adam says. He stumbles a little as Mox pushes the door open. "You can't use this to, like, pad your resume!"

"Why not?" Mox asks, shooting him a grin. "You were in need and, even though you're my rival for the position, I still helped you." He puts his hand over his heart as he opens the door to the photography classroom. "God, I'm such a humanitarian."

"I fuckin' hate you," Adam laughs as they make their way into the hallway.

Mox claps him on the back, hand lingering just a touch longer than it needs to. "No, ya don't."

[n4talia-chaparro]

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Yeah hello I'm glad I had the opportunity to finish this garbage for once so hopefully I don't screw this up-

Reminder: I will make a next post for Cap cuz I don't wanna make it very long so-

Yippee but first...👇🏻 (1/2??)

Contains- Blood/gore (?), mention of murder (?), abuse???, cringe AU, poor grammar, etc.

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₊˚꒰🫁⸝⸝︰ 𝐆𝐏!𝐊𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐩 ┆ ⤿ 🧠 ⌗

✧ ┊• uhh I don't know what to put but he's a silly little bastard.

✧ ┊• He may be 5'8 or almost the same height as the original Krupp. Some of the students say he's bigger than a damn tree but that's not the case. Just a bit bigger or shorter compared to Mr. Meaner/Kenny and Mr. Ree/Toilette (?)

✧ ┊• In case anyone forgot, Krupp in this AU is a manipulative and aggressive person. At first, he might be neutral but eventually, he will slowly show his real colors. No matter what the victim does or says, Krupp will do anything to manipulate, gaslight, and make the victim miserable. Even if he seems "nice" or not, he shouldn't be trusted by a student or staff (especially if they are new to the school)

✧ ┊•His face can change when he's mad (well also snap and get more aggressive than ever.) He then realized that students will be more scared of him so he feels chill keeping the face like that (unless he needs to rest or pretend to be nice so he had to turn his face "normal" without letting no one see his terrifying face.) And goes to his voice too. His voice goes deep or glitchy.

✧ ┊• Krupp is a human in this au- the only reason why his face looks like that is because Melvin accidentally shot him with his new invention so um let me explain instead

Melvin's intention was to make a teacher smarter since the substitute teacher (Jerry) is getting on his nerves and didn't understand why he's working there so he built the "SmartyyChanger200" and decided to show it to his principal.

Krupp like a total fucking idiot he is in the damn show decided to grab it from Melvin's hands and wanted to see if it can heat up anything- Melvin's got mad and tried to get it back- it was like a silly ass tug of war except they were fighting over the invention and pulling it back and forth until it slipped out and Melvin accidentally pressed something that caused the SmartyyChanger2000 to shot his principal in the face. NOTHING bad happened to Krupp, he got unconscious by it, and idk what else. Melvin thought it didn't shoot him so he shrugged it off and left the office to test it on Jerry.

Krupp did NOT turn into a vampire like Jessica, or a random creature (or monster) that happened to some other people like Mr. Fyde and others. He simply woke up and thought he fall asleep on the floor.

And it took him a few weeks to turn him into a villain since his mind or well his "brain" was developing and functioning. And it was before he murder his first victim, Ms. Hurd. (Well I have spoiled the au for y'all)

- his IQ is similar to Melvin's except it's worst than smart. Aggressively smarter than an average staff so far. 🧍‍♀️

✧ ┊• He's a walking red flag ! ! (Pls be aware of that LMFAO💀💀)

✧ ┊• Not only does he change his face (or appearance) he is capable of breaking things. Whether it is wood, bricks, or any sort of material he will get through them just like he did on the 2nd episode of the 1st season 👁👁 and this motherfucker fits on the damn vent. Don't even ask me- um...I don't know how to explain the logic of this one. 🗿

✧ ┊• Unlike the show (well the original Mr. Krupp), this Krupp seems smart and knowledgeable. However, he does everything to avoid getting caught which it was a success for him.

✧ ┊•GP! Krupp has also developed an obsession with murder and cooking stuff. Although he's taking a break from guacamole and salami, he enjoys trying new things and using some of his "special ingredients" for the food. Of course, he even used the ingredients to serve the WHOLE school without letting them know what they are eating is human flesh and mea-  OH FUCK I MEAN UM very cool ingredients!! Um..yeah cool....???

Yeah so epic..umm GP!Krupp will always hide the ingredients and keep it a secret without letting a single student or staff know except for Melvin. He is forced to work with Krupp and knows exactly about the "special ingredients". 👁👁💦 and that's how he gets rid of the bodies.

And he does NOT eat human meat. I mean unless he wants to make a trip-tip roast for himself and get it from the body- (and using blood as a silly dip for the French fries who fucking knows -)

꒷︶໑꒦₊꒷꒥︶꒥꒷︶‧₊˚ଓ︶꒷꒷꒦꒥໑꒷੭︶︶꒥

✧ ┊• Although people would call him Benjamin or Benny, he prefers to be called Ben for short. But hey he still doesn't mind being called by his real name or any weird nicknames.

✧ ┊• GP!Krupp still has a soft spot for his nephew, Kipper. Our dear buddy Kipper is UNAWARE of his uncle's gruesome behavior, he simply wanted to visit him and GP!Krupp had to hide some corpses in his cellar and lock it in case his nephew tries to get in without his permission. He does not wanna upset and scare Kipper if he lets him witness the things he had done to the people.

✧ ┊• He hates everything that is around him, why of course just like the original Krupp. He hates children and stuff that is associated with "fun" but there are other things that he hates the most; loud sounds/noises and possums. It's not like he seems like a weakness or anything

✧ ┊• And speaking of weaknesses, he does have some that are strange but maybe silly such as:

- Loud noises? (air horn, kids laughing, giggling, and TV statics.)

- Bee sting

- Anything associated with "cuteness" and "adorable" themes

- Children (from kindergarten to 3rd grade)

"Is he really that scared of children? really?" Not really but when it comes to kids who are in kindergarten, it makes him sick in the stomach and personally scared- and there's a little good example

💕•example: Heidi

You may ask yourself what she has anything to do with this part. Well, you see, since Heidi is very small and childish like the other kids from kindergarten, somehow managed to make GP!Krupp more uncomfortable around the children. Sure, he also wanted to get rid of her to see Harold's reaction, but unfortunately, Heidi makes it more difficult and uneasy for GP!Krupp to kill her. She would also give him some small hitting, kicking, and punches when she's angry at him- soo GP!Krupp would easily give up and ignore her instead of killing her.

꒷︶໑꒦₊꒷꒥︶꒥꒷︶‧₊˚ଓ︶꒷꒷꒦꒥໑꒷੭︶︶꒥

✧ ┊• His relationship with others isn't that bad, some of the relationship (well friends or exes idfk)

- George and Harold: a disaster. He will end up killing them for sure

- Staff members: holy shit, I don't know! Krupp is aware one of them will backstab him and escape

- Toilette & Jerry: a pain in the fucking ass. Krupp seriously wanna fucking kill them so badly mostly Jerry. Jerry is the other reason why Krupp had enough of being patient meanwhile Toilette is a fucking scumbag to Krupp. I mean they have a valid reason to hate his guts but dear lord. Just them fighting seem silly and weird.

- Edith [1st ex]: OHHH....this is getting fire....ummm...- Krupp's 1st relationship wasn't terrible. Edith is kind and sweet but since Krupp fell for Ms. Yewh then they broke up but that doesn't mean they will be friends or anything. They will meet up again except Edith knows exactly what he did after Tara/Ms. Ribble explained the situation um shut.

-Ms. Yewh [2nd ex]: YIKES.. big ass dumpster fire. After breaking up with Edith, he found out Ms. Yewh and Toilette aren't together so uh Krupp took the time to date her for once- weeks or months has passed and they broke up. Oops. Which I don't know if Ms. Yewh will be next dead victim or the alive ex. Who knows. I don't wanna spill the info 💀

- Melvin: oh boy....this poor little bastard...damn... I would say his relationship with him isn't that good, I would say it's very toxic. Krupp ALWAYS sees him as a son to him but he enjoys harming him in the physical, verbal, and emotional ways to get his anger out. Sure Melvin may be an assistant or teacher's pet but he is more than that. A source of entertainment and a punching bag to his principal. cuz that's how his mom (Bernice) treated him when he was a kid and since Krupp sees Melvin like a son and not a student like he used to, probably he would do the same to him, giving Melvin trauma and PTSD on purpose (haha um get it? Mother and son moment? No? Ok, that was too far my bad.)

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✧ ┊• He cares about his job, image, and reputation a lot. If a staff member witnes a tragic event and tries to spread the information, GP!Krupp will eliminate the staff. And you may ask how will he do that. Simple MURDER- *COUGH* FUCK *COUGH* - damn too many gory eliminations? Yeah, how unexpected and silly of him.

✧ ┊• He despite Jerry a lot with a burning passion. Even tho he didn't have the chance to kill him but still. He's still thinking about getting rid of him as well once he gets rid of George and Harold.

✧ ┊• SUSSY SUS AMOGU- I MEAN I MEAN. He makes sure to keep everything hidden- ummm he still wants his rule book to be safe so uh yeah he still owns the damn "safe".

✧ ┊• "Fuck you, I can't stop it's so satisfying!!!" -GP!Krupp

✧ ┊•Like I said GP!Krupp would see Melvin as a son and still treats him terribly. But deep down inside he has a soft spot for him as well. Since Melvin is his assistant or his son figure, he always teaches him some stuff in case if GP!Krupp gets himself arrested or ends up disappearing from his life.

Teaching the kid some stuff like:

- how to use the surveillance camera

- drawing symbols and codes (?)

- attacking/harming others

- hunting random people or animal (which went fucking wrong cuz Melvin bit Jessica's arm and ripped her skin from her arm like a fucking animal which made Krupp proud as hell.)

Which of course GP!Krupp doesn't regret doing that, after all he ALWAYS wanted to raise Melvin like he wad his son so he took the whole "Fuck Adoption center" into a whole level and kept Melvin with him without letting hid parents know.

And of course. Sometimes he has to keep his eyes on him but hey! He knows what to do with him when he gets the chance to adopt him in the new way possible- even tho he might end up using him for his gruesome tasks or silly father-and-son moment stuff..👁👁

꒷︶໑꒦₊꒷꒥︶꒥꒷︶‧₊˚ଓ︶꒷꒷꒦꒥໑꒷੭︶︶꒥

✧ ┊• what the dog doi- I MEAN AHEM. GP!Krupp is pan *cough* *cough* or poly

✧ ┊• He makes random codes for fun just to show signs that he's messing with you. Yep he does troll everyone so don't expect him to do something unquestionable.

✧ ┊• "I AM MORE THAN A GOD...A FUCKING MOUNTAIN! HOOGA!"

Goofy ahh move

That's all pls don't cancel me this took me 4 days to make this garbage 🗿🗿 grrahhh-

[tgammsideblog]

Tgamm S1 E 6-B ¨No Good Deed¨ Episode Analysis

Writer: Jase Ricci and Sammie Crowley

Darryl gets caught making trouble in school again. Wishing to be a better behaved kid, he asks Molly to teach him how to be nice. The lessons appear to be working well until Molly learns that Darryl misinterpreted some things...

¨No Good Deed¨ is the first episode that explores Darryl and probably the only one in this season (if you don’t count ¨A Very Hungry Ghost). In this one we get to see a different side of his character. From Darryl’s lines he doesn’t seem to be fully aware how his risky actions may impact others and he doesn’t act out of malice. There is a part of him that would like to be good as Molly, who he looks up to.

The sibling chemistry between Molly and Darryl gets explored as well. While Darryl shares a few common personality traits with Scratch, he has a different relationship with Molly. He is a bit of a foil to Molly could be if she lacked a proper moral system that told her the difference between good and bad. Darryl’s mind is wired in a more unique way than Molly’s because he often struggles to grasps the concepts of morality and empathy. In a bit of a plot twist, he ends up sending the teachers to prison because he thought he was helping his classmates by getting rid of the adults in charge. I had to admit this surprised me when watching the episode, it is something i didn’t expect to happen.

In addition to this, the teachers from school get some character development as well when they try working together to escape from prison. They believe that everything is a ¨team building exercise¨ organized by the school director. It’s nice to see minor characters getting some screen time too. It’s worth of mentioning that one of the teachers, Mrs.Roop, brings up her wife, indicating that she is LGBT+. (They were seen dacing together in ¨Mazel Tov, Libby!¨)

Another good thing about this episode is how ridiculous the humor can get. There are multiple moments like the kids threwing over a police car and said vehicle then exploding. Scratch acting ¨silly¨ after he gets shocked by an electrical fence. At one point he starts singing blues and playing the harmonica. It’s just over the top ridiculous things.

By near of the story, Molly and Darryl have a conversation about how one doesn’t turn into a good person from one day to the other. It’s a process that takes a long time and one is likely to make mistakes along the way. It’s a nice lesson because it is a more realistic take on how change works. In a bit of mocking cartoon lessons, in ending Darryl misinterprets the whole lesson and decides to do something dangerous again. I think it is a funny commentary on characters from comedy sitcoms having to learn the same lesson a few times until they start to change or just going back to how they were.

In conclusion: ¨No Good Deed¨ is a very funny episode that explores Darryl’s character and his world view. Sadly, it doesn’t have much of an impact on his character because he remains the same by the end of the story. Hopefully he is going to get more episodes in Season 2.

[bafflement]

Deaged Oz AU The Third

It had been a month since Qrow went to go and find his nieces. He said that he'd come back, but Ozpin was really rather worried at this point. Had it been long enough to go and find him?

His forms were getting better. Not quite to their normal strength of course, but the speed was there, helped out with judicious use of his semblance which he was rather relieved to still have full access to.

Oscar's face when he'd first been caught in it had been interesting to say the least, though. Speaking of Oscar, it was strangely like having a brother had felt in those of his past lives that had had the pleasure. He seemed to look up to him, uncomfortable though that made him feel and he was well aware that, in matching outfits, they even looked like they could be distantly related. Oscar had got tired of asking Qrow questions evetually, but only because Qrow had told him exactly who Oz was. That had certainly been interesting, but he had been a teacher for twenty years. Not all of it had been by choice, but he knew how to train young students. Oscar had seemed pretty handy with the axe they'd found in an old shed one day and he was getting better too.

There was a cough at the door as Miss Pine interrupted them.

"You'll need to go soon, won't you?"

"It does appear that way, I thank you again for your hospilality miss Pine, but Qrow did set a schedule and I have taken long enough to recover as it stands."

"Oz... it's been a month. Call me aunt Em, okay? Oscar more or less sees you as a brother. Speaking of, I think we need to talk alone, don't we?"

Oz nodded, following her into the other room.

"Oscar is quite likely to follow you when you leave. You know that, right?"

"I was attempting to find ways to discourage it..."

"Don't. Had things been different, he would have been at Signal by now. He's wasted here. Just, I need you to promise me that you'll look after him, Ozpin. Make sure he lives to make it home to me. That you both do."

"Miss Pine, I..." He sighed, sounding ancient. "Aunt Em, if I can bring him back, I will. But this is a war."

"Which is why I've already made Oscar promise me that you'll both come home, too. You're protective of him, yes, but he's protective of you too. Something tells me that you'll need each other. Now, are you all packed?"

"As much as I can be. There are a few things I still need to take care of, though."

"Ah yes, the hairdye Qrow gave you? I must admit it will be rather odd, seeing you with dark hair."

"It's temporary, though hopefully it will last as long as Mistral. The less obvious a target I make the better for Oscar." He carefully slipped Long Memory into a hollowed out wooden sheath, hopefully nobody would look too closely at the walking aid for a child and at this age, he still had that limp, after all... besides, holding it gave him comfort that was sorely needed since Ozymandias had started talking to him again...

He emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, scowling, his hair now a deep red instead of the brown that Qrow had promised him it wuld be. Oscar grinned at him.

"Huh, that suits you, Oz!"

"Thank you, Oscar. I think. Still not keeping it like this though. Qrow swore it was brown."

"That might be better with your skin tone, actually." Aunt Em opined, trying not to laugh. Oz's ten year old scowl was just precious after all.

"Well, I think that's just about it. Oh, one more thing, Oscar. While we're travelling, would you call me Tip? Just while we're travelling. It adds an extra layer of security."

Oscar pulled a face. "I'll try, I guess. Hey does that mean you've given up trying to stop me?"

"The station is close enough that we're unlikely to run into Grimm before we can catch a train, but things will get dangerous later on. If you'd let me, I'd send you home."

"No! I know war is dangerous Oz... Tip? That'll take some getting used to. But I promised to look after you."

"Then let me look after you in turn?"

"It'll be fun! Where'd Tip come from, anyway?"

Oz shrugged, looking uncomfortable again.

"It's just a name."

"Oz?" Aunt Em interrupted, her tone serious. "Use Tip Pine as long as you're traveling. Actually, until you're both home again. It might mean both of you are safer."

Oz nodded, understanding the necessity of the ruse then stiffened as Em swept him into a hug. he still didn't like being touched, but this could be an exception. Just this once, though.

"Oz?" Oscar asked as they made their slow way to the station, wincing slightly as he watched Oz's limp. "Where did Tip come from?"

"It's my name, Oscar. You are Oscar Pine and I'm Tip. I just... prefer not to use it unless absolutely necessary. Call it personal preference." There was something dark in the wide amber eyes as he spoke, though, which made Oscar shiver slightly. He kept trying to remember that Oz was a lot older than the ten year old he resembled but sometimes that was harder than others. In that moment, though, it was something he didn't think he'd ever forget.

Oscar didn't notice that Oz had stopped moving for a second or two after he did. Looking back, he had frozen, staring at a mountain of a man at the other end of the station, eyes wide and face scared. Hurrying back, Oscar let the smaller boy lean on him even as Oz whispered through a hurried explanation. The likelihood they'd run into someone from Oz's past seemed so small, and yet...

Getting to the ticket machine, Oscar bought them both tickets to Mistral, using Oz's funds. The large man had seemed to take very little notice of two young boys, barely glancing at them before looking away with a huff. That might have been the artificially red hair Oz bore, or the fact that the stick he leant on looked like a stick as opposed to the highly recognisable cane it actually was, but at this point they'd both take that blessing. The man was huge, far bigger than either one of them. Best not to fight him unless they had to, especially if he was working for Salem. Over the month Oz had been staying with Oscar a little bit of his caution had rubbed off at least, as had the stories he'd told him. Oscar knew there were things he didn't know, things Oz hadn't told him, but he'd given him the bare bones of the story at least. Warning him off? Maybe, though it hadn't worked. Oscar had wanted a brother for as long as he could remember, he wasn't about to lose them now he had one!

"Oscar? Promise me, if we ever see that man again, run. His issue is with me, not you. He's dangerous and he could kill you."

"And he couldn't kill you? You're half his height... Tip. I don't care how good you are, facing him would be stupid."

"Then I will endeavor to avoid the situation. I think the name may be an adjustment for both of us, I haven't used it in long enough it's taking a few seconds to remember that technically it is my name."

"Then we'll use it more! You'll get used to it quickly enough. I mean, I've seen you fight, you do things no ten year old should be able to!"

"We'll see. Anyway, I believe we're almost at Mistral, we need to go and locate Qrow. Knowing him, he's likely in a bar somewhere, however there are a great many in Mistral and current appearances may prove an issue. Any ideas?"

"Must you use everything as a teaching opportunity?"

"Hmm, yes, I really think I must. Two children wandering into a bar may be questioned, after all."

"Can't we just tell them we're looking for Qrow?"

"Yes, but why?" Oz pressed, smirking slightly.

"Aunt Em sent us? to look for... yuck, uncle Qrow?"

"Yes. I believe we could use that. The look on his face would certainly more than make up for the height jokes at my own expense."

Oscar's smirk matched Oz's as they started walking down the street towards the nearest bar. This would take no time at all!

Five bars later, two of which they'd been almost bodily thrown out of for being children in an adult establishment, they were both rather regretting this course of action.

"And you're sure there's no other way of finding him?"

"Knowing Qrow, not really, no. He never has his scroll on him when he goes out drinking."

There was a cough from further down the street and the boys looked up, meeting the stare of a man that seemed vaguely familiar to Oz, dressed in hunters gear.

"I heard you boys were looking for Qrow? May I ask why?"

"Aunt Em sent us. He's a friend of hers, more an uncle to us than anything else." Oscar stated, but the man turned to look at Oz, one eyebrow raised.

"And you, boy?"

"Qrow is our uncle. He told us to meet him in Mistral. I thought checking the bars was the best chance we had at locating him quickly."

The man's brow rose further at the phrasing before he sighed.

"Okay then kids, I can help you find your uncle Qrow. I will want an explanation later, though, I was certain he only had nieces."

With the huntsman's help, they only needed to check three more bars before finding Qrow, slumped in a corner with a mostly empty glass. He looked up as they entered, the huntsman, seeing that they'd found Qrow left again, muttering rather fondly about drunks.

"Heeey, boys, welcome to Mistral! Glad you could find me, but aren't you two a little young to be in a bar?"

"We needed to find you, uncle Qrow." Oz stated, flatly. Qrow, noticing the hair, snorted, before blinking at the title.

"Well, ya found me. I ain't your uncle, though, Oz. What's the other one doing here, anyway?"

"He refused to be left behind."

"I'm not letting him go off to get killed on his own!"

Qrow sighed, getting up from his prone position.

"Follow me then, boys. I'll take you to meet the others. Maybe we can make something of this situation after all."

"Can't we just talk to Leonardo?"

"Ah. That's where things get a bit ropy, there are signs he might have been compromised. I'm sorry, Oz, I know he was your friend."

Oz curled in on himself. looking devastated. Oscar drew him into a hug, noticing that he'd started to shake. Oz didn't fight it, which told its own story.

"This is why I shouldn't trust people. This always happens, they always end up betraying the promises they made."

"Nah, you can trust some of us. Leon might just have got scared, there might be an innocent enough explanation."

"You don't believe that, though, do you?"

"Frankly, no, Oz, I don't. What are you calling yourself right now, anyway?"

"Tip. Tip Pine, with miss Emerald's blessing." He sounded hollow, though, worn out.

"Okay, yeah, I think we need to go. Ruby and some of the others are waiting on us."

There was a knock on the door, light and hesitant. It sounded too light for Qrow. Looking at each other. Nora shrugged and opened it, blinking down at the two children on the other side. Looking past them, she could see Qrow, but the fact that there were two little boys with him seemed slightly worrying.

"Hello, there. Who might you be?"

"I'm Oscar, this is my... brother, Tip. We found uncle Qrow at a bar, could we come in? Is there a Ruby Rose here, at all?"

"What do you two want with Ruby?" Nora asked, but she was obviously wavering in the face of the two cute little boys on the other side.

"We need to talk, miss Valkyrie." Oz spoke up, seriously. Nora blinked.

"Huh? Who are you... Tip, right?"

"We'll explain once you're all here, but I'm afraid that it's rather more complicated than that."

[alynnl]

I’ve cleared the Forgotten Turnabout this morning.  I have quite a few thoughts as always.

It was another one of those bittersweet and actually, very open endings.

Franziska is salty.  Very salty that Edgeworth willingly turned in his prosecutor’s badge so he wouldn’t have to follow orders to turn over Kay immediately for arrest.  This sort of rubbed me the wrong way because she does realize he didn’t have much of a choice, right? Edgeworth was backed into a corner.

Sebastian got totally broken down and he honestly didn’t deserve that.  Yes, he was a brat, and very annoying.  But for Blaise to constantly cut him down, to say “all the awards you got were the result of me bribing your teachers” and to call him an idiot without joking.  To berate Sebastian for “not trying hard enough” when he was honestly giving his best effort.  For him to know that Justine was just getting close to him to get to his dad.  He ran off, and we never did find him.  I wonder if he’ll ever recover from this!

Justine has apparently been a double agent this whole time, in some effort to finally get Blaise arrested because she suspected him of handing von Karma forged evidence 18 years ago in the IS-7 Incident.  She not only used Sebastian but she also used Edgeworth in her schemes and even if she was sort of helpful towards the end of the case I’m not sure her actions leave a good taste in my mouth.  She seems to care more about passing judgement in the name of the Goddess of Law than for the lives of people around her.

Then there’s Gumshoe.  He is in utter shock that Edgeworth forfeited his prosecutor’s badge and hasn’t seen him face-to-face since then.  It’s hard to know what this means.  Was Gumshoe only loyal to Edgeworth as a prosecutor and not as a person?  Or does he somehow blame himself for the way the situation spiraled out of control, leading to Edgeworth having to give up his badge and Kay possibly being arrested?  (Maybe he didn’t want to be there to make the arrest himself or testify in a possible trial.) 

I will honestly be sad if Gumshoe and Edgeworth don’t see each other again in the fifth and final case of Investigations 2 because they have been side-by-side in a lot of their cases.  It’d be like separating Holmes and Watson from the Sherlock Holmes series, or Sam and Frodo from Lord of the Rings!  To keep them apart permanently would be unthinkable!

But on the plus side...

Kay regained her memories!  And it was because she got a hold of her promise book again, which was something she lost in a different case.  In that book was the beginnings of who she is now as the Yatagarasu.  It’s nice to see her usual fire back too.  There’s also some clarity on what happened before she lost her memory.

Edgeworth is free!  He still doesn’t have his badge because Blaise, the chairman of the PIC got arrested and so there can’t be another hearing about whether to bring him back as an official prosecutor any time soon.  But at least he’s not in jail anymore.  He gets to go home, and he’s determined to find the truth behind what really happened in the Grand Tower case, since arresting Blaise apparently wasn’t the end of it.  He got a call from De Killer of all people informing him of this much.

 I have to hand it to him, he is rather resilient.  I’m just hoping the truth doesn’t put him in anymore danger but at least he’s aware of the power of friendship/teamwork and he will have support if he is in some sort of distress.  He’s opening himself up to others, I’m happy for him.

There is only one more case left to wrap up the loose plot threads from the fourth case, along with any new twists that might come up along the way.  I have looked at the “how long does it take to play all the cases” document and this finale will be a long runner at 8 hours, so I imagine there will be a lot of content packed in, interesting twists, and hopefully, if all goes well, an ending credits montage and a candid final photo.

I will take my time with this last case since I know it will be the last time I will see Edgeworth in a major role, and I will miss him when it comes time to play Ace Attorney 4-6.