#of this semester at least. ahem

[luridparty]

repeatedly had to stop myself from crashing out on various innocent elderly customers today. on multiple different occasions. at one point a lady asked if we could do 'coffee lattes' and 'is it hot' and i . i wanted to cuss her out and scream and cry. and im worried that energy transferred through my gayass little headset and she felt my impotent rage for ultimately no reason because honestly why the fuck SHOULD she care about coffee terminology. i know i dont. every thing is just pissing me off latelyyyyy wtfffffffff

[anna-does-a-fandom-thing]

nothing serious.

professor! anakin skywalker.

a/n: hiii! so, @fuckmyskywalker came up with the idea for this concept, and I've decided to write my own fic on it! LOVEE me some starwars boy. But put him in a SUIT?? drool worthyyy.

tw!: smut. lots of smut. ahem. p in v sex, sort of breeding kink? it's small but it's there. use of the name pet!! unprotected sex! do not attempt! dumification kink? also miniscule but there. big big sir kink. Anakin loves asserting the fact that he's the top here.

Disclaimer: 18+ only please! I'm not responsible for the media you consume as an adolescent!

description: Attending the most sought after university definitely was the best decision you'd made regarding your college career, but one perverted professor almost makes you want drop out entirely. Anakin Skywalker, was in no short terms, egotistical and a hard-ass. At least that's what you knew, so why is he asking to see you after class?

Ah, Corscuscant University. One of the most popular STEM universities in the country. The same STEM university you attended. Being a biology major, it was a no brainer for you come here. When you arrived as a freshman Corscuscant felt like your dream school, but like every dream, reality had set in. Your painful reality was Anakin Skywalker; your math professor. Professor Skywalker was one of, if not the most attractive man you had ever seen. He knew he was good looking, too. Almost every person in school had a crush on him, one of those people being you. That's not to say you didn't find him annoying as hell, but you could appreciate a good complexion when you saw one. Despite his good looks, it didn't change the fact that Anakin Skywalker was an egotistical hard ass, whose courses were next to impossible.

It was easy to ignore his big mouth and jabs at any poor soul unfortunate enough to get a question wrong in the beginning, focusing on your studies and logarithmic equations. However, as the class began to get more difficult, your counselor started suggesting attending his after school lessons. Something you couldn't be bribed to attend. But alas, hell hath no fury like a college counselor.

The good thing about Anakin's tutoring is that it's only on Fridays. The bad thing, is that it's a ghost town most days. if he's lucky, Anakin might get 2 or 3 students. So by the second semester, it became just you and him.

Anakin Skywalker was now aware of your existence. He was aware you sucked at math, and he was probably aware of your attraction to college professors who made even Pythagoras hate math. So now here the two of you were.

Just earlier that morning, you'd been notified that the tutoring had been canceled, so your plans for the evening were to go home and sleep. But, before you can walk out of the classroom, Professor Skywalker calls your name. Leaning against his chair, he looks at you piercingly. "Come to my office as soon as possible. We need to discuss your grade in my class."

"Yes professor. " You stuttered, sending a questioning glance to your friend. You walked towards Anakin's office, knowing he'd already be in the room. You hesitated to enter, dreading whatever miserable information he had to bestow upon you, in private. You noticed while peering into the room that he's got a paper in his hand. 'please don't be mine,' you pray.

Once you entered, you moved to stand in front of his desk. "Are you free to stay awhile? I have some questions about your last exam." He says, seeming relaxed. You DID have plans, no, you were not free. Ugh. You guess you can't deny your teacher, so you nod politely. "Great to hear." He says, motioning for you to walk around the desk.

Anakin rolls out his seat, and moves to stand. Now standing in his personal bubble, per his suggestion, you fidget with your hands. "So, what about my exam? Did I fail it, sir?" You start to get worried. "No, no, nothing like that. You actually made top of the class once I graded it." Anakin praised. "I'd actually like to offer you some extra credit."

Anakin motioned for you to take a seat on top of his desk. "What kind of credit?" You asked, now level eye level with his chin. "Just some extra course work and a few more sessions in the week." Anakin shrugged, almost distracted. You hesitated, "I suppose I can, uhm, do that." Anakin smiled at your stutter. He placed his hand under your chin and lifted it to meet his eyes. "You're certainly obedient. I like that." You felt your brain screech to a halt. "Excuse me, what?"

Is Professor Skywalker hitting on you? This has to be a dream. You look up at him, and lo and behold, he's staring right back. He looks hungry, like you're a delicious piece of meat. "You behave when and how i tell you to. Has anyone ever told you that's attractive?" Anakin clarifies, placing both of his hands on desk, trapping you under him. You bristle at his statement. "Sir! that's inappropriate!" Anakin just laughs, and leans in. He says, quietly, "That's alright, pet. It's only inappropriate if someone finds out. I don't intend on telling a soul."

You feel your nose subconsciously scrunch up in confusion. "Pet?" Where did that come from? "You're my little teacher's pet, aren't you? It'll be our little secret." Anakin places one hand on your thigh, the other further along the desk to prop himself up. You can feel his hand wander to your hip, and you're not sure you want to stop him. You didn't know someone's hands could feel that good, with his feather like movements. You're about to let him continue, until you remind yourself that you didn't lock his door. Anyone could walk in.

"Wait, not here. Someone will see." You try to push Anakin away, but he grabs your wrist to restrain you, gently. "Yes here. I can't stop myself." Anakin ducks his head below your chin, and places butterfly kisses along your throat. You hold it in, but you want to moan at his touch. Anakin pulls away, "I'm going to give you your first extra credit assignment. Answer these 3 questions."

You try to focus on his words and not the pooling heat between your legs. "Yes sir." You're pretty sure Anakin noticed you squeezing your thighs together like no tomorrow, and he's just saying these things to rile you up. He quietly moans at your obedience. "Good girl, keeping doing that." You look at him, "What, calling you sir?"

Anakin nods, giving your hip a squeeze. "Yeah, baby. It means you know who's in charge here."

Clearing his throat, Anakin begins. "Now, question one. are you aware of how tempting your body has been to me?" You can feel your cheeks lighting on fire. He's certainly been bold. "N-no sir."

"That's okay, beauty, I'll show you. Question two: will you let me kiss you?"

Oh fuck. You knew that was coming. Oh well, you only live once. "Yes sir." As soon as the words left your lips, Anakin had cupped your cheek, pulling you into a passionate kiss. Anakin was a good kisser. You'd figured that was probably true a while ago, but now? To feel him? It was overwhelming. He pushed against your mouth, using one hand to lift your leg against his hip. Using the new angle, Anakin deepened the kiss causing you both to moan against each other.

You can feel Anakin get more and more aggressive in the kiss, to the point he's pushing the desk a little. You pull away from him for a moment, causing him to chase your lips. "Anakin.." You start, but he cuts you off with a growl. "Who, pet?" You should've expected that one. "You, sir. You're pushing the desk apart." You correct yourself quietly, murmuring your concerns into his ear. Anakin frowns in thought before donning a sultry grin. "I've got a better place for us to continue, dear pet." Before you can question him, Anakin wraps your legs around his waist and takes your mouth in a kiss. He lifts you from the desk before walking towards the couch in the corner of his office.

You yelp as Anakin gently throws you onto it, and you're once again locking lips.

"Mm, sir.." You moaned into his mouth, feeling him crawl on top of you. Anakin smiles, looking down at such a pretty sight. "Such a good girl, pet. You gonna spread f'me?" Anakin tapped your thighs, and you pulled them apart at his request. Anakin settled himself between your legs. "For the last question, pet," Anakin pulls up your skirt and hooks his fingers into the hem of your underwear. "How badly do you want me to fuck you?" Feeling your heart speed up, you replied shaking, "So badly, sir. Please."

"Good girl. you've earned yourself an A+." He rasps, sitting up and undoing his belt. Craning your head, you watch as Anakin unzips his trousers. You almost gasp when he pulls out his dick. You're not even sure you can take him, with how large he is. "It's alright, pet, no need to look scared." Anakin cooed, kissing your jaw. He lifted up your skirt, and pulled on the hem of your underwear. Discarding them, you were now bare for his eyes to see. "We'll go slow, baby." Anakin reassured you, lining himself up with your entrance. Gently as Anakin could be, he pushed into you. Whimpering, you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was both painful and overwhelming, and you instinctually pushed at his chest. "Relax, little pet, relax." Anakin grunted, already being squeezed like a balloon waiting to be popped. Anakin finally bottomed out, after what felt like forever. It felt so good. "Tell me when, darling." Anakin refused to move until you gave him a sign. Taking several deep breaths, you nodded. "No, pet. give me words. Use them, baby."

"Please, sir."

"Please what, my girl?"

You knew Anakin was getting impatient, but you were so overwhelmed with pleasure it was hard to form words. You him growl in your ear. Feeling his hand touch your soft flesh, Anakin gripped your waist and moved without warning, "I'm not going to wait anymore, little pet." You couldn't help but let out a guttural moan. Holy shit. He was so big, and you've never felt so filled in your life. "Sir..!" You cried, pulling him down and kissing him. Anakin begins to kiss you passionately, pressing you into the sofa. His mouth meets yours in a loving and desperate kiss as he starts to move faster, causing your loud whining to be muffled. If you weren't blissed out, you'd die of embarrassment at the lewd noises the two of you created. Anakin, on the other hand, loved it. Feeling him speed up, you pulled away from his mouth and almost screamed. You knew you were close, and you told him so. "Sir, please! Close, close, please.. mm," You were practically crying from how good he felt. "I know pet, I know." Anakin replied, grunting when he felt you squeeze him harder. "God, keep squeezing and I'm gonna burst, baby, fuck."

Hooking his hands under your thighs, Anakin lifted them onto his shoulders, pressing you in half. The new angle made your insides burst with pleasure, making you scream. "C'mon pet, you can do it." Anakin encouraged, hitting all the right spots harder. "Cum for me baby, cum all over my dick, yeah?" His words sent shivers through your spine, and your eyes rolled. It was too much. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you finished with a moan.

However, Anakin didn't stop. Despite your release, Anakin moved even faster. "No, no, sir! I can't!" You cried, already overstimulated to high heaven. "Don't be selfish pet, i know you can do it," Tightening his grip on your thighs, Anakin grunted over, and over, and over with every thrust. "Don't want my cum, baby? huh? Don't want your teacher to fill you up till you're full?"

Too fucked out to use your brain to respond, you squeezed around him again. It was too much for you, and now, the last straw for him. Letting out an animalistic growl, Anakin buried himself as far in you as he could, bottoming out fully. Your tummy felt so warm, being painted with his load for what felt like forever to you.

He collapses on top of you, panting softly. "Such a good girl f'me, baby. M'so proud of you." He coos at you, still out of breath from the intensity of the moment. After a few seconds, Anakin lifts his head and chuckles. "Poor thing, too dumb to respond to me?" He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. You whine at his teasing, pouting at him. He leans to your ear and whispers, "Don't be shy, baby. You did so good f'me."

[chandelier-s-notebook]

Hey, so I started writing a Landoscar 5+1 which...didn't even spiral outwardly that badly, but I hate it. I hate it enough that I never want to look at it again, and I think that if I put it down, I will never pick it back up. And both desperately want to put it down, and don't believe in continually ramming your head into the wall if something isn't working. So, into the fic graveyard it goes.

But! Instead of tossing it in the trash, never to be seen again, I am posting it here to Tumblr. Maybe someone can enjoy it.

It's supposed to be Landoscar, but it takes Lando 1800 of those prose words to show up. What's happening in that first 1.8k? Charles adopting Oscar. Alex and George are also here. Max exists, and Lando is a biter.

The whole 5+1 part is outlined, it's five different things Lando calls Oscar in a College!AU and one time Oscar gives him a nickname back. The bones are all there, but...

*ahem*

I present to you: 2.3k of pose and 1.1k of outline.

Have an experience.

[INSERT TITLE HERE]

Oscar Piastri is a regular engineering major university shut in by the time Winter semester rolls around in his first year of university.

He has one friend—Logan, his roommate, who he’d met all the way back in middle school—two different incompetent lab groups, a class with four midterms and a final, 18 hours of lecture a week, a never ending stream of assignments, a healthy addition to Monster Energy™, and three humanities he has to take if he wants to graduate at all.

Oscar is taking a 300-level Principles of Marketing—he figures it will be useful enough—when he meets Charles Leclerc.

And that's when his life starts to change.

— — —

Charles is a business major, and Charles happens to be sitting next to Oscar when Professor Vettel—”But please call me Sebastain, or even Seb,”—asks them to introduce themselves to the person sitting next to them.

“Oscar Piastri. I’m in engineering, mechanical, first year.”

“Ah. So you are here for the credit, then? I am Charles Leclerc, second year.”

The name pings some level of familiarity deep in the back of his brain, but it’s not enough of a connection for him to follow it down any sort of rabbit hole. “Pretty much, but I have to keep my GPA up to keep my scholarship, so I’m not planning on being completely useless.”

“Good,” Charles smiles. “Because this introduction thing is how Seb likes to assign groups of the term.”

Oscar feels like a bucket of water has been dumped on his head. “What?”

“I know. It is weird, but all of the professors here are. I hope we work well together. When I was in Intro to Marketing, I was stuck with George. George is nice, but he is very intense about the wrong things sometimes. We did not work well together.”

“This class is going to be, like, last on my list of priorities,” Oscar feels the need to tell him.

But Charles just smiles again. “I figured, since you said you are an engineer. That is okay. At least I know what I am in for from the start. We will meet once a week, yes? So we have a dedicated time to work on this class, and you can ignore it the rest of the time?”

Oscar starts to protest, but a clap sounds from the front of the room. “Well. I hope you like the person sitting next to you,” Professor Vettel, Sebastian, Seb says. “Because this is who you will be working with for the rest of the semester! I’ll give you five minutes to exchange contact information, and then we’ll get started!”

Charles winks at him; he’s bad at it. “See?”

Oscar forks over his number, and pencils in a weekly Wednesday evening library session with Charles Leclerc.

— — —

Wednesday evening quickly becomes Oscar’s favourite time of the week.

For two hours he can shut off his brain, ignore all of his coursework, and just hangout with Charles Leclerc. At least it feels like they’re just hanging out, because what’s actually happening is Charles is explaining to Oscar what the fuck he’s doing for their joint assignments that Oscar feels a little bit bad about putting his name on.

“It’s okay,” Charles assures him. “Seb’s husband is one of the engineering profs. He knows which people in his class are eng students, and how much they’ve got on their plates.”

“Which one?”

“Not telling.”

“Rude!”

“Besides, you’re doing quality control.”

“I don’t know what quality I am controlling, is the issue.”

“That is okay.”

“Is it? I’m going to fail the final at this rate.”

“No you aren’t.”

Oscar flops down onto the table. “Yes I am.”

“Because it is a term project.”

He looks up. “I’m not letting you do an entire term project on your own.”

“Of course you are not. We need to build a product website. I cannot code, and I know that coding is a requirement to graduate, so I will make the design document, and you will code.”

“Okay,” he says, small. “I don’t want to drag your grade down because I don’t know what’s going on in this course.”

“You won’t. I won’t let you,” Charles tells him. “You understand the lectures, non?”

“Yeah. And I’m acing the theory quizzes.”

Charles grins. “See? You are doing very well.”

Oscar smiles. “Okay, but what goes in a design document?”

— — —

“Charles, I know I have to be the one to do the presentation, but I can’t. I’m going to sound so stupid standing up there reading off these cards.”

“You are not going to sound stupid. That is why we are practicing.”

“You’re biased. You need to tell me I’m going well so I stay calm.”

“Are you not calm?” Charles asks, tilting his head.

“I am not calm.”

“This is you not calm?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. I cannot tell. Which is good, because then no one will be able to see if you start to panic. The audience is like a snark.”

“Not helpful!”

“Right.” Charles taps his chin with this index finger. “I know! I will get George.”

“George?”

“Yes!” The upperclassman pulls out his phone. “If you can present to George, you can present to anybody.”

“I thought you didn’t like George?”

“I don’t like working with George. He is judgy.”

“And you want me to present in front of him?”

“Oui. He will stay quiet until you are done.”

“I hate this.”

“You told me you would.”

George is apparently George Russell, the man Oscar’s Solid Mechanics TA, Max Verstappen, loves to draw into pointless arguments. He brings his friend Alexander “Alex” Albon—wildlife biology major. They are both very good at quietly listening to him fumble, while keeping their expressions carefully blank.

At least George is. Alex is smiling at him in a way he knows is supposed to be comforting, but all it’s doing is making him more aware of tightness in his chest.

“And that’s that.” Oscar claps his hands together, and immediately regrets it.

Charles applauds and cheers like he’s just won a race or something.

Alex claps as well.

George turns to Charles. “You’ve adopted an engineer.”

“Maybe,” Charles grins. “You can barely tell.”

“It’s obvious.”

“No it’s not,” Charles turns to assure Oscar. “Barely. If you weren’t you, you couldn’t tell.”

“I mean it’s not really far, because I’ve seen him in Max’s office.”

Charles looks absolutely betrayed when his gaze whips towards him. “Why are you in Max’s office?”

“For help?”

Charles narrows his eyes.

“He’s my TA; solid mech.”

“Who do you like more?”

“Huh?”

“Me and Max. Who do you like more?”

Oscar’s eyes dart to Alex’s for a little help. There’s not much he can do, but he does manage to convey that this answer is apparently very important.

Oscar has never considered Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen against each other. They aren’t exactly in the same category of people in his mind.

“You?”

“More confidence.”

“You.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Charles sits back in his seat. “Do it again. Do you have a suit? You will wear a suit to this presentation.”

Oscar is only a little scared.

“Does Max like Oscar?” Charles asks George while they all go about packing their bags at the end of the session.

“I’d say so. You know how he pretends to be professional with the underclassmen, but when it’s just Oscar in the room he’s right back to his usual state of no decorum.”

Charles hums. “Do you do anything on Fridays, Oscar? Friday evenings?”

“Cry? All of my assignments are due Friday.”

“So you stay up all night doing them?”

“No, that's Thursday. I fix everything Friday morning, so that I’ve got time to cry in the evening before I start next week’s assignments on Saturday.”

Alex snorts. “Nice.”

“You are coming for drinks,” Charlest tells him. “Crying with friends is better than crying alone. I will come pick you up. Give me your address.” He holds out his phone in front of Oscar’s nose.

Oscar’s eyes dart back to Alex’s. The man looks just as befuddled as he feels, but honestly: Oscar would like more than one friend.

“Will I have to pay?” he asks.

“Non. If I tell you you have to pay you will come up with excuses to not come. I will pay. You have a class that ends at five thirty, non?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. Then I will be there at six thirty. That will give you an hour to get home, and do whatever introvert things you need to do before we go out.”

At Oscar’s expression Alex tells him, “We also always meet up at seven.”

Which is good, because Oscar was about to tell Charles that they shouldn’t change their whole schedule for him.

— — —

Oscar’s shirt is only halfway on when there’s a knock at his door.

“In a minute!”

“I’ve got it!” Logan calls.

The door opens.

“Who are you?” he demands.

“You are not Oscar.”

“No. I’m not. Who are you?”

“Charles!” Oscar gasps, running out of his room. “Logan, this is Charles. He’s my Marketing partner. Charles, this is Logan, he’s my roommate.”

“You never mentioned a roommate.”

“Never came up,” he says, bending down to tie his shoelaces.

“I told you about my roommates!” Charles cries.

“You complained about your roommate to me,” he corrects.

Logan laughs. “Dude, you’re supposed to share horror stories when that happens.”

Oscar furrows his brows. “But I don’t have horror stories.”

“Oscar.”

“Yes?”

“Your roommate answered the door eating cereal out of a frying pan.”

Oscar turns to look.

Logan shrugs.

“Have you heard of bowls?” Charles shrieks.

“American,” he grins.

Oscar huffs. “He’s joking,” he assures Charles while grabbing his coat. “We’ve run out of bowls. Logan was supposed to do the dishes tonight.”

The man in question clicks his tongue, and shoots Charles with a finger gun. “Are you going out?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back…when will I be back?”

“Two?”

“I’m not making it to two. I’ll be back at ten.”

“Text me. I’m staying in.”

“Cool.” Oscar throws him a thumbs up. “Shall we? Who’s going to be there, by the way?”

“George, Alex, Pierre, Esteban, Yuki, Liam, Lando, and Max is not coming.”

“Pierre is your roommate?”

“Oui.”

When Oscar gets to the pub, he is immediately reminded why he’s bad at making friends.

While everybody else introduced themselves with their first names only, Oscar had said: “Oscar Piastri.”

Full name, full confidence.

Which was his only saving grace: the confidence. His face didn’t even scrunch up in displeasure.

“Nice to meet you Oscar Piastri!” Lando says.

“Just Oscar is fine.”

“But your name is Oscar Piastri.”

“Oh my god Lando,” Alex laughs. “Ignore him. He bites, but he’s harmless.”

“I thought the saying goes ‘he doesn’t bite,’ right?”

“Yeah,” George shrugs. “But Lando does bite. Literally. He’s a bit feral, but he’s good the first hour.”

Charles pats Oscar’s shoulder. “I’ll keep you safe.”

“You’re all making me sound like a dog. I’m not a pet!”

“I think it’d be nice to be a pet dog. No solid mech homework.”

“Is that what we’re crying about tonight?” Alex asks.

“Yep.”

Lando’s eyes light up. “You schedule your crying?”

“I’m in mech eng.”

“Oh Oscar Piastri, I’m so sorry.”

George groans. “Just call him Oscar.”

“No.”

Oscar laughs. He doesn’t really mind. It’s very clear that he’s just teasing. Besides, Oscar likes the way Lando says his full name: Oscar Piastri. It rolls off his tongue like it’s a single entity.

— — —

The presentation goes well, all things considered, and Oscar even manages to actually answer some of the audience questions without looking at Charles in panic first.

It’s a miracle.

“Good job!” Charles says, clapping his shoulder as they go back to their seats. “That was great. I’m so proud of you.”

Oscar blushes. “Stop. I feel like you’re about to give me a gold star or something.”

“I could. Do you want one?” Charles asks, way too earnestly for Oscar’s taste. “I carry some around with me. We give them to Lando when he does a good job.”

“First you tell me he bites, then you tell me you give him treats, are you sure he’s not the friend group’s dog or something.”

Charles grins. “Don’t let his whining confuse you, he likes it. He has a little sticker booklet, so if you are going to give him one you have to give it to him, because you put it on him it won’t be sticky anymore and it will be difficult to keep in the booklet.”

“Oh my god.”

“Would you like one?”

“I don’t have a booklet.”

“That is okay. You can put it on your laptop. They are die cut vinyl; very good quality.”

“Wow. Yeah I’ll have one.”

Oscar’s laptop is now the proud wearer of a smiling cartoon golden star sticker.

It’s silly, but he loves it.

— — —

At six thirty sharp every Friday, Charles Leclerc is at his door ready to drag him off to the pub with his friends who are all slowly, but surely, also being Oscar’s friends.

He jumps when all he gets is a loud “OSCAR!” before Lando is barrelling into his side, almost sending him sprawling just outside of the peb entrance.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Oscar is not not bracing for a bite.

Not because he wants Lando to bite him, but because he likes to think they’re friends, and apparently Lando bites his friends.

Or maybe they just told that to Oscar to scare him, and take the mick out of Lando in a single blow.

“Ah! Lando!” Alex cries. “You pest. Give me warning! You can’t just bite people.”

“I gave you a whole four seconds after arriving,” Lando pouts. “That’s plenty of warning. Not my fault you ignored it.”

“Say something,” Alex pleads, rubbing his shoulder. “You’ve gotten better at biting lightly, thank you.”

Lando brightens. “You’re welcome!” He turns to George. “George, I’m going to bite you.”

“Oh I don’t like that,” Alex says. “That’s so ominous. Nevermind. Don’t say anything. But like, tap me or something.”

Lando whacks George’s shoulder, and then with a “hwam” he clamps his teeth around the other man’s shoulder.

Oscar isn’t sure if he should be watching with horror or fascination.

Oscar jumps about twelve feet in the air when he hears a loud “OSCAR” shouted across the quad

Lando.

The biter.

Who didn’t bite anybody last time they were out

But they’ve known each other for longer than an hour, so he’s a little bit worried

Because Charles doesn’t tend to lie to him.

Lando throws himself into Oscar’s side

“Where are you going?”

“Physics Building.”

“Ugh. Why?”

“Solid Mech. Need to talk to my TA.”

“Terrible. I think. Max likes Solid Mech, but Max is a freak.”

“Verstappen?”

“Yep! Do you know him?”

“He’s my TA.”

“For Solid Mech?”

“Yup.”

“Of course he is. He was probably grading your assignments, that’s why he didn’t come out last night.”

Oscar pales. “You’re friends with my TA?”

“Yup! He’s a freak, but he’s cool.”

“If he’s a freak, what are you? I’m waiting for you to bite me.”

Lando pauses. “Do you want me to bite you, Oscar?”

“I was told you bite your friends.”

“Are we friends?”

“I dunno. Don’t have many of those.”

“Well we’ve got to fix that.”

Suddenly Lando is being scruffed.

“Lando. Why are you about to bite my favourite student?”

“We’re friends now. Charles brought him to the pub.”

“Ah.”

“Stop giving Oscar so many assignments. Cause then he’ll be less stressed, and you’ll be able to hangout more!”

“Not how that works. If I let you go, are you going to bite him?”

“He literally asked for it.”

“I did.”

Max sighs. “I see why Charles took you in. Were you having trouble with the assignment?”

“The indeterminate structures are doing my head in again.”

“The what?”

Max hauls Lando into his office. “Come in, you. You’re going to be Oscar’s rubber duck.”

“What?” he squawks. “Oscar! Max just called me dumb!”

Oscar feels warm.

He has a friend.

— — —

Lando loosens up a bit more and stops pronouncing the r in his name. It shouldn’t affect him as much as it does, but it practically kills Oscar.

Lando is an arts major, graphic design and photography

He sits with Oscar while he works on his assignments

Well, Lando is usually drawing or editing pictures

To Oscar it feels like not working, but Lando assures him that he is actually working

“Oscah. I’m bored.”

“I’m busy.”

“I knoooooooow. Can I take pictures of you?”

“What?”

“Pictures? With my camera? I need to practice my human portraits stuff. Framing and shit. And how to deal with natural lighting. The lighting in here is shit, mate.”

Oscar glances at him.

“I’ll be taking candid shots. Like you in your natural habitat. So I won’t even be talking. I’ll shut up!”

“Why is that a selling point?”

“Because you’re trying to work? I can be considerate.”

Oscar smiles. “Go for it. Might be a bit awkward though.”

“I’ve got you Oscah. I’ll make you look cool even without dynamic lighting.”

“I hate dynamics.”

— — —

Osc is not made for the pub despite being an engineer

“We are we are we are we are We are the engineers We can we can we can we can We can demolish forty beers So come so come so come so come So come along with us For we don't give a damn for any damn man who don't give a damn for us”

Oscar has been drinking water for the past three pubs on this crawl

He runs into Max at some point

Max, who decides that it’s time to save him, and Oscar is being dragged into a booth with Charles and his friends.

“Do you think those guys are going to notice you are gone?”

“Maybe? Probably. I’ve been Logan’s introvert all night. He’ll go looking for me before everybody leaves.”

Charles gets him another water.

Oscar starts asking questions about the torsion unit.

Max laughs, and they are doing office hours again.

“There you are! Man, I thought I’d lost you for good. You good, man?”

“Yeah! There is Charles.” He points.

Logan grins and shakes his hand. “Hey. Oscar’s roommate.”

“The messy one who eats cereal out of the frying pan?”

Logan laughs, everybody laughs. “Yeah. That’s me. We’re headed off to the next pub…”

Lando wraps his arms around Oscar’s torso and clings. “Nope. Osc is ours now. We’re keeping him. You have fun on your crawl.”

“Osc?” Lando jolts back. His face is suddenly stricken with a worried expression. “Is that okay? Can I call you that?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Logan tells him when Oscar starts floundering. “Use protection!” he calls over his shoulder. “I’m staying at Liam’s!”

— — —

Lando comes over and finds out that Logan calls Oscar Osc and has for years.

He gets very pouty

“Just give him your own nickname,” Logan says in between bites of cereal.

“Do you not own bowls?”

“There are two left. Figured you would want one? And Oscar has some dignity left, so frying pan for me.”

“Osco, your roommate hurts me.”

“Osco?”

“I’ve decided on it.”

“Okay.”

“But seriously, what is wrong with your roommate?”

“American.”

“Bro.”

“He just called you bro.” Lando claps. “I’ve never heard someone do that in real life.”

Oscar sighs.

— — —

Charles: Who is your favourite?

Oscar *panicking*: Lando

Charles *waves him away*: Obviously. Between me and Max. Who is your favourite?

Oscar *deer in headlines*: Lando

Lando: *cackles*

Max: Remember, I grade your assignments. Actually, I am grading your midterm right now.

Oscar: How am I doing?

Max: Who is your favourite?

Oscar: *pales*

Charles: I do your assignments. I will not put your name on it.

George: That’s not going to work. Seb knows you well enough to know that Oscar hasn’t done any work all semester, and that you’re being petty.

Charles: And when Seb calls me for a meeting I will tell him how Oscar has been terrible to me, and does not deserve to coast off my work.

Oscar *panicking*: I need this class.

Charles *mouthing*: I’m joking.

Max: I’ll tell Mark that Oscar chose me over you, and he’ll tell Seb. Who’s Seb going to believe? You? Or a story that sounds exactly like something you would do?”

Charles: *pouts*

Oscar: Lando.

Lando: Say George. It’ll piss them both off.

Oscar: Alex.

George: Oi!

Alex: Don’t bring me into this!

Charles: It’s me, right?

Oscar: Yes?

Charles: With confidence.

Oscar: Yes.

Oscar is not a nickname guy.

But Lando clearly is

Charles drags Oscar to movie night in his dorm.

Lando gets up to stretch mid-action scene

“Anybody want anything? I’m gonna refill the popcorn.”

A chorus of nos from everybody in the room, but then Oscar finishes his drink.

“Hey, Lan, actually could you get me a Monster?”

Lando freezes.

He practically trips as he runs.

He throws himself on the couch

And bite

“Ow!”

“We warned you!”

“I let my guard down. It’s been weeks.”

[syrupfog]

The Tang explodes and the crew swims to safety. It takes days to find a habitable island, much less some place they can stop and rest and start to rebuild (and wait for Law). 

They end up on a small island with a large population, because this island is built to be one thing;

It’s a college town. 

PLOT TWIST THE HEART CREW UNIVERSITY SLICE OF LIFE TIME. 

They have to enroll to be given a loan, and that loan is how they’re able to afford a shitty little frat house, recently vacated because of a rat infestation.

Nineteen crew members. Five rooms. There’s already a beer pong table up when they move in. 

None of these guys have completed secondary school. Sure, most of them could pass a medical entrance exam, but they couldn’t write an essay on why the curtains are blue. Or do geometry.

Everyone has to find jobs. Penguin, Shachi, and Jean Bart end up at a coffee shop. Ikkaku works at the textbook store. Hakugan flips signs on a street corner. 

Penguin actually really enjoys latte art. The job doesn’t call for it, he just likes it.

Because no one has any university experience (why would they?) they try to all take the same major, to help each other out. After an argument they end up split down the middle; half of them go for history, the other half go for agriculture.

Penguin and Shachi, agriculture majors, end up pulling shifts on the school’s farm before the sun comes up, THEN working at the coffee shop when it opens at dawn. Jean Bart managed to make manager. 

The Tang isn’t FORGOTTEN, but… they need to get good enough grades not to drop.

If they drop they have to pay the loans back. 

So for a few months, everyone goes to class and works and studies. The house smells like beer and piss no matter how hard they clean. 

And then, one day… 

Kid and Killer wash up onto the island.

Kid refuses to sign up for university. That’s how Hakugan finds them— he hears the yelling from where he’s flipping a sign for pizzas. He alerts everyone else. 

Killer does not have such reservations. He signs up on the spot. Poetry.

After a quick house meeting, the Hearts offer for Kid and Killer to sleep on their sofa. The two of them look… worse for wear. And a familiar face is nice. Everyone here at uni is… well, they’re very normal. 

Kid doesn’t want to. But Killer accepts for the both of them.

Penguin helps Killer learn the bus system AND gets him a job at the coffee shop. It’s almost impressive there were so many free positions at this place, but… Penguin’s been sprayed in the face with hot espresso from the machines and yelled at by customers. A lot. He gets it.

He shows Killer how to make latte art, though. Killer turns in a poem about it. His professor calls it cliche but it gets him a passing grade. And so, three more months pass. The winter solstice arrives. Everyone goes home for the holiday, veritably abandoning the island.

Suddenly it’s just the Hearts and the Kids. 

They make snowmen and snow angels and exchange terrible presents because they’re poor university students. 

And on the day of the winter solstice, two new people wash up on the shore.

The Heart pirates only know because Penguin and Killer are taking a, ahem, private walk. 

But there they are, passed out on the beach. Rough, but alive. 

Penguin screeches, cries. Killer carries both bodies, hanging over his shoulders, back to the house.

Thus, when the next semester starts, Law and Bepo enroll in class. 

Because, like, while they’re hiding out and rebuilding, Law might as well get a real medical license, right?

(He doesn’t; he shambles a student to pieces two weeks into the semester because she was insulting the new pirate king, and then they have to beat a swift exit before the loan sharks come, but Jean Bart at least has been working on the Tang 2 and at least its sea worthy).

(Kid and Killer come along for the ride, because hell if Kid is going to STAY in a UNIVERSITY it fuckign SUCKS THERE) 

(Also cause Penguin and Killer kiss a lot)

[burgerkingussy]

everything we know about Lasko’s listener so far:

• they stay late on campus too

• they like listening to Lasko ramble

• they’re kind and they reassure Lasko a lot 💓

• they first met Lasko in January

• they don’t want Lasko to be nervous

• they transferred to D.A.M.N. from Kennedy and they’re new to the Dahlia area

• they’ve only been teaching at D.A.M.N. for a semester and they felt a little overwhelmed at first

• they teach full time

• they teach a water elemental command class (yay! a non-jerk water elemental character)

• they’re a water elemental, not a freelancer who specializes in water elemental magic

• they’re an “impressive” water elemental who’s “amazing” reputation proceeds them

• instead of just telling Lasko to not apologize they ask him why he does, which shows them as a thoughtful person in my mind

• they said they feel comfortable around Lasko

• they sit on Lasko’s desk (!!!!!) (smartass energy lol) WHILE HE IS SITTING AT IT

• they make him laugh a lot

• they like being physically close and “around” Lasko

• they support him in his efforts to be more self-confident and self-assured

• they check-in with Lasko throughout the audio to make sure that he is still comfortable with them being there and talking to him 🥹

• they make it hard for Lasko to focus (ahem!)

• they’re “very sweet” and “really observant” and “forward”

• they’re a flirt and smooth and give compliments (according to Lasko)

• they make Lasko feel seen 😭😭

• they are humble and patient

• they were willing to accept Lasko turning them down

• they want Lasko to be more patient with himself 💞

• they have soft hands apparently

and last but not least,

• the listener is down BAD for Lasko

and who can blame them?

[twistedtummies2]

THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM- you already know who it is, it’s me. Ya boi. ANYWAY!

What sort of activities or hobbies do your TWST ocs like to do in their free time? Could be with friends included but I was thinking when they’re alone.

Billy enjoys cooking. He's actually a surprisingly good chef, and he legitimately likes making different things. He also likes to wrestle: I headcanon there's a wrestling club at NRC in the time my OCs arrive, and Billy joins it within its first semester. Obviously that's something he can't really do on his own though. I also think he occasionally likes playing video games, and - when he is with friends - probably enjoys playing board games. He also genuinely makes a hobby of counting the treasure he has at his house, whenever home; he's a little paranoid about thieves, and it gives him something to do that keeps his mind off other problems. Nakoda likes to read, although I'm not sure what specific mediums or genres. (On that note, I'm an avid reader myself, so that's a common pasttime for several of my OCs, largely as a result.) I used to say Nakoda was good at painting, but I kind of go back and forth on that one, simply because Maelstrom is also very into painted art. Presuming I keep that canon to his character, that's definitely another hobby of his. I also like to think that, while Nakoda really isn't into Video Games, he IS something of an Internet junkie. Not so much social media, but more video watching and browsing, idling the time away with that kind of stuff. Finally, he also enjoys dancing and singing, but typically that's something better done with a partner, or at least an audience. Of course, Nako's favorite "hobbies" are a bit too graphic to describe here...and typically take two to tango with. Ahem. >_> Elias, of course, loves the theatre and loves to sing. He's also an avid reader, like myself, and enjoys a lot of genres and styles. He also loves drawing; he carries a sketchpad with him frequently. He also enjoys board games, and video games, from time to time, but typically only plays those with other people. Finally, he's a bit of cinephile and enjoys watching all kinds of movies, as well as listening to old-time radio shows here and there.

Reno is all about games. Whether it's on his own or with other players, basically gaming is his biggest hobby, and he plays all kinds of games. Video games, dice games, board games, card games, slot machine games, pinball games, billiard games...you name it, he probably plays it, or knows somebody who plays it, or just generally knows a bit about it. Ironically, though, he's not SUPER into sports; he's not an athletic kind of guy. Those are the only games he's not really into. He also has an ant farm in his room, so I suppose that's another hobby of his, if it counts. James is yet another avid reader, and particularly enjoys what could be considered classic literature. (Much like myself.) He also likes fishing from time to time, as well as sailing in general. I headcanon he has a little sailboat he keeps somewhere (not sure exactly where), and - when he has time - he'll take the little craft out to the beach, go off onto the water, and start fishing or just...set a course and sail around the island. Just to relax, so to speak. I also think that, much like Azul, he's a coin collector: a hobby both share. Finally, James is a very skilled and practiced fencer, so he enjoys that, but it's another thing you can't really do alone too often, aside from just practicing the motions or against dummy targets and such. Smitty has a pet parakeet named Little Tom, and takes care of him; not sure if that counts as a "hobby," but it's certainly something. (I only just decided this right now, and it's a reference to pirates having pet parrots.) He is, surprisingly, a bit of a gamer, but he especially enjoys games he can play online or with friends. Like James, he enjoys fishing; in fact, his father is a fisherman. However, he doesn't have a boat of his own. So, sometimes he'll go sailing out with James, and sometimes he'll just sit on the shore or beside a river or lake and just kick back on his own to relax and catch something. Like Billy, he's also a very good cook, although I think Billy might have a bit more experience with a variety of dishes compared to Smitty, who specializes primarily in seafood, steak, and a few side dish staples. Maelstrom likes to paint, and likes to sing and even compose his own songs in privacy. He also just likes listening to music in general, and enjoys reading - particularly books about art and the ocean. Like Nakoda, I also think he has a thing for nature documentaries...especially ones about whales. ;) Being a mer-person, he enjoys swimming, either in his human form or in his true form...of course, in the latter case, he can only swim THAT way by going down to the ocean. Theodore is a flying ace. He loves flying on his broomstick, loves the experience of flying. He doesn't just fly to compete, he flies because he likes doing it. So sometimes, much in the way James will go sailing around the island, Theo will jump on his broom and fly to some quiet part of the island to reflect or just take a few laps around the campus, or whatever. Once again, he's an avid reader, but he specifically likes reading informative texts about magic and its history: he's genuinely interested in magic itself and learning new tricks and tools of the trade, partially because he figures the more he learns, the more powerful he will become. Grit is a gem collector. He likes going into the mountains, or into the mines, looking for gemstones for his collection. Indeed, Grim enjoys hiking and other such things; he's not so much a fan of nature as much as he is a fan of earth, if that makes any sense at all. He can't tell you a thing about trees or mushrooms, but - being part Nome, and living most of his life underground - he knows a LOT about rocks and minerals. (On a side note, I weirdly think he and Jade would get along pretty well: both love the mountains, but for somewhat different reasons, and both would probably relate to and teach other a lot.) He's also big on exercise; he likes working out by lifting weights and going for a jog now and then. He's by far the most physically fit and buffed-up of all my OCs.

[helenadurazzo]

The Lord of the Underworld and His Lady of Spring Part 5

Back at Styx headquarters, the tests and examinations are about to begin, but first, Riddle, Vil, Azul, Jamil, and Leona learn a bit more about Styx and its operations in this addition to the HPHM x Twisted Wonderland AU!

“Ugh,” Vil groaned once he and the other boys were placed in their subject uniforms and collars, “Excuse me Idia but why must we be sprayed down with a GLORIFIED GARDEN HOSE!? And you didn’t even offer moisture! What kind of place is this?”

Jamil sighed, “Now I know what it’s like to be a car going through a car wash.”

“Or a set of sheets in the washer and dryer.” Riddle added, crossing his arms.

“And then it had the audacity to spray into my ears.” Leona groaned, “I’m still squicked out from that.”

“Normally I’d prize efficiency.” Azul admitted, “But that crosses the line!”

“Really!?” Ortho exclaimed, “All the staff love it! They say it makes showers take no time at all.”

“I say it is quite refreshing.” Helena seconded Ortho.

“Of course Idia’s mindless girlfriend would say that.” Leona groaned.

“I see these chokers have the same effect as my signature spell.” Riddle observed, “I haven’t been able to perform any type of magic.”

“Sorry about that.” Ortho apologized, “It is for everyone’s safety and for the sake of accurate data collection.”

“Wait.” Idia’s eyes widened, “Riddle’s been trying to use magic, we can’t take our eyes off of any of them…” he cleared his throat, “Ahem, anyways not that you have been decontaminated, here is a short welcome video for Styx, Ortho play the tape!”

“Already on it!” Ortho cheered

~~~

Leona turned to Idia once the film finished, “So what horrific experiments do you have in mind?”

Idia chuckled menacingly, “First I’m going to strap you so you can’t move, then examine you with a bunch of probes, to score some sweet data about stress and the build up of blot.”

“Wha…” Riddle looked horrified.

“Idia!” Helena scolded him, “Don’t scare them like that!”

“Surely these normies didn’t think I was serious.” Idia shot back, “Can’t they get a joke?”

“In all fairness it wasn’t remotely funny.” Azul pointed out.

“They are right.” Ortho agreed, “Idia they are already upset! We shouldn’t make it worse!”

“At least Ortho and Helena exhibit some compassion.” Vil sighed.

“Besides.” Ortho enlightened Idia, “Raising the levels of stress won’t give us accurate results.”

“Never mind, I take that back.” Vil quickly remarked, “Ortho is just like his brother.”

“The point is.” Ortho explained, “You are all highly valuable since you didn’t get consumed by the phantom when you all overblotted.”

“What are phantoms?” Vil asked.

“When you overblot, the excess blot spills out and takes a giant form, aka the faceless monsters that appeared behind you.” Idia revealed and waited in silence before continuing. “Those are phantoms. You were not yourselves then so it’s hard to know how much any of you registered. But when you overbloted you could extend your reserves because of those phantoms. What normally is a debuff becomes a buff! Which is why eventually the phantoms consume their victims if people don’t step in.”

“They were quite large, all of them.” Helena added, “I recall them quite clearly when me and my sister were helping bringing you back down to earth.”

“Most of the time we can capture the phantoms but some can blend in with direbeasts.” Idia continued.

“I knew the basics of that but the extended version is hard to believe.” Azul admitted.

“Thing is, only capable mages can overblot.” Idia pointed out. “About as rare as rolling 4 SSRs on a single ten pull! Yet despite that there were five overblots in a single semester!

“So we were brought for research…” Jamil took note of the obvious. “Were you the one who issued the order Idia?”

“Uhh…” Idia stammered,

“That is classified information!” Ortho shouted.

“Let’s just say Styx has scouts all over the world...” Helena simplified for the boys.

"Wait…" Vil's eyes widened, "Does that mean you are trying to use blot!?”

“It’s not that surprising.” Idia sighed. “Sustainability is a hot topic right now and blot could be the answer, when it comes to magic that is. We consider Blot a valuable reason rather than a waste product. And we gotta recycle what we can right?”

Jamil’s eyes narrowed, “An energy resource huh.”

“That is how you are justifying kidnapping.” Leona growled. “Real noble operation you guys got here.”

“I know you are all mad.” Ortho observed, “But none of you want to overblot again right? Or to be manipulated by a phantom? Accepting our help can allow to prevent that.”

“Indeed.” Helena seconded, “Styx HQ has the best labs in the world. The readings are accurate and detailed.”

Vil eyed them closely, “What an enticing sales pitch, Azul should take notes. But what’s the catch? If we don’t participate you won’t let us leave?”

“Look, listening will get you out of here easy.” Idia doges the question, “Let’s just start with the paperwork, and make it snappy we don’t have all day.”

~~~

Idia sighed, “That took so long, can’t believe they nick picked every detail. But at least that’s done. Everything else is set up as well. Now to split the subjects into two teams. We can start with Subjects A, C, and E, and then transition into testing Subjects B and D.” He turned to Riddle, Azul, and Vil, “Ortho will take you to the sim room.” Then he turned to Jamil and Leona, “Wait here until your tests begin. Helena and I are going to step out but use the intercom if you need anything.”

“Yo acting director.” Leona spoke casually, “can we at least get a snack menu?”

“Ugh.” Idia groaned, “Classic Leona, but that is not an option.” He finished before walking out of the room with Helena by his side, with Leona only continuing to mutter what were surely insults.

“Acting Director.” One of the Charon guards approached, “What shall Subject F’s examination be? The medical team reports he is still asleep.”

“Subject F…” Idia recalled, “Ah yes, Grim. I’m afraid the kitty has too many variables. And his command of magic is rather mediocre, running him through sims might be a waste of time.”

“Let him sleep for now.” Helena requested, “And let me and the Acting Director know the second he awakens.”

“Roger.” The guard confirmed, before leaving to fulfill his orders.

“Let’s go Helena.” Idia turned to her, “We need to get to HQ, Ortho likely has the guys all ready in the Simulation Room, and we shouldn’t keep him waiting…”

[qqueenofhades]

Hello! Anon with the history professor who refuses to take a stance on anything here. It's time for our semester final paper. Thankfully it's not on why communism is bad because he still absolutely won't talk about that but it's on the equally frustrating topic of US involvement with the war in Ukraine. And on one hand, it feels like it should be a fairly easy thing to write about given how much the war has been in the news for the past year, right, but at the same time, I feel like I'm writing basically from what I've learned from reading the news only. Don't get me wrong, my history professor does absolutely know what he's talking about. I don't exactly know how to explain it- he clearly knows his stuff but is not good at conveying it to the class? And it leaves me scrambling because yes, this is a topic that I can write a paper on but at the same time I just don't feel as though we've spent enough time talking about it and learning about it.

That is to say, we've spent plenty of time learning ABOUT the war in Ukraine, right, but the paper topic is basically "should the US get involved in Ukraine and if so, to what extent, why or why not" (I can look up the exact phrasing if you want) but while we've talked about the war, we haven't discussed things so much as what the US is currently doing exactly, nor what benefits and/or consequences would be the result because remember, he's not here to influence us one way or another and that's our opinion to form and that's why he's assigning us this essay but can't talk about whether he thinks US involvement is a good or a bad thing so I have very little to work with from the actual class. And I get it, I do, we're supposed to be able to do our own research and not just have the facts from either side spoon fed to us so that we can crap out an essay but it feels like I'm working with nothing here.

If it helps at all, it's a Russian history class I'm taking that counts as a gen-ed history credit through my university's honors college. All of first semester was basically all pre-WW1 history and we've covered everything from there up until present day in the last couple months, then the rest of the school year will be learning about the modern political, social, and economic situation there. It's definitely a fun class even if it can't go super in depth into any one specific thing there (because there's so many units in this class that could be an entire class all on their own) but I still enjoy it even if it's not taught in the best way possible. I'm a freshman this year, yes, but it also feels like after almost an entire school year I should have a better idea about how to deal with this sort of thing and I don't and it sucks. I'm definitely enjoying the class and everything that I'm learning there, I just feel as though it could be taught so much better, and I'm just reaching out for help and advice now if you have any. I'm not asking for help with the paper itself, to be clear- I'm asking more about how do deal with this situation and the class and the professor's style of teaching that I feel like I'm struggling more and more to deal with just because he can't take a goddamned stance on fucking anything. Ahem. Rant over. Sorry.

Okay but yet again, this remains utterly bamboozling for me. Not least because the paper topic is one where you HAVE to take a side, but how the heck is he going to mark it? Just correct your grammar/spelling/style and say nothing about the content and whether you have successfully made an argument, because that might be Expressing An Opinion? Not least because you will need to draw material from the class (which he won't really teach you about for fear of expressing said opinion), and you will have to demonstrate how it all works together and the actual moral and physical consequences of the system, which he seems to have avoided giving you any intellectual tools to do??? I just. Yeah.

Likewise, if he just treats it as an abstract exercise where "either point of view is valid" and he somehow grades without making it clear which side of the argument he supports, you're going to end up with some weird theoretical exercise where you could end up entirely justifying the war in Ukraine from Russia's perspective, which is... not what a history class on the USSR/post-Soviet Russia should have taught you. Like, you could literally write this paper using nothing but Russian propaganda sources, and you technically would have made a successful argument that US involvement in Ukraine is bad and this war is all NATO's fault and Ukraine should have just surrendered and Russian war crimes are justified and etc. etc., but if your professor won't take a side, how would he actually be able to discredit that or call it into question? After all, that might be expressing an opinion! In other words, he's teaching you, intentionally or otherwise, that you can make arguments that sound coherent and faithfully represent talking points offered up, but you have absolutely no ability to separate propaganda vs. actual empirical information, you have automatically given up the right to make any critical distinction between that information for your audience, and that's not... that's not what a historian DOES!

Anyway, this man's pedagogical style remains completely mystifying to me, especially in a field that is so distorted by ideology/misinformation as Soviet/Russian history. Like... you can't study Russian history without studying the historiographical and narrative systems that Russia has used to tell particular stories about itself, and you have to be able to critically differentiate between the reality and the narrative! The Russian word dezinformatsiya, imported into English as "disinformation," literally came from the Soviet-era KGB in terms of their political strategy to just make stuff up about dissidents and anyone else who threatened the Soviet regime, and since we are all talking about "disinformation" and "fake news" these days, it's kind of important to know how to deal with that! Plus, Putin has presently weaponized it to an absurd global degree with Western election interference campaigns and internet troll-farms, so like again. How can you say anything useful or valuable on this subject if you're essentially acting like "both sides are valid," when they are NOT??!

I realize that I have answered your rant with one of my own (oops) and I'm unsure how much help this is, but I still don't get this professor's teaching choices at all. I'm glad you're still getting something out of the course, but yeah. Mystifying.

[hwalilac]

Disobedience

⇴ pairing: professor!jung wooyoung x student!f!reader

⇴ genre: smut

⇴ words: 1.9k

⇴ warnings: power imbalance, protected

⇴ a/n: feedback is accepted and welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts on my work! if you’d like to be on my taglist, lmk. if you’d like to see more of my work, check out my masterlist!

⇴ tags: @hyuckilstan @star1117-archives @whatudowhennooneseesyou @jwnghyuns @az-con

Photography class starts in 5 minutes and unfortunately you’re on the other side of the campus, in the parking lot. Which sucks, because the parking lot is 10 minutes away from your class. And just your luck, it’s the first day of the new semester, which means you don’t know who the fuck you’re dealing with.

By the time you get in front of the oak wood door, your hair is disheveled and your legs are about to collapse from the long run. You try to fix yourself, before deciding you’re just wasting time. The door painfully squeaks open, almost making you just want to slam it closed and make a run for it, but it’s too late. Everyone already has their eyes on you.

Some whisper to one another, some giggle, and some roll their eyes. Your chest tightens in embarrassment. The abrupt sound of an “ahem” makes your head snap over to the front desk. You’re quite taken aback at the sight. A young man, probably only a few years older than you, standing at the front of the room. The teacher, no doubt, by the way he is dressed.

You feel frozen, almost stuck there, just staring at his beautiful face. But once the annoyance in his face sets in, you realize it’s time to sit down. You sheepishly let out a “sorry”, before heading to take an empty seat in the first row. You don’t usually sit in the front, but with just a quick glance you could tell the back was filled. You quietly sit down, hoping he’ll just let it go.

“Just a reminder to everyone: get here on time, you will be missing important information for this lesson and there will be no retakes”, he loudly remarks, making sure to glance at you. Great. Now he’s called you out. Your cheeks turn a scarlet red, but you make sure not to let him see, turning your face down to your computer.

The class continues, as he goes through the syllabus. Thankfully the rest of the day goes smoothly, and he doesn’t say a word to you. At least you hope that’s a good thing. You did come to find out his name though: Jung Wooyoung. You want to say it’s an ugly name and it’s unfitting, and yet it’s perfect, especially for him. You can’t help but admire him throughout the period, almost drooling at certain moments. You hope he doesn’t notice.

Once class is over, you scurry out the door, making sure to not spare a single glance in his direction. The embarrassment of him calling you out is enough to make you already dread this class. Not only because you practically got yelled at, but because he’s so god damn hot. You find yourself thinking about him the entire day, your daydreaming consuming your mind.

You didn’t have any more classes today, so you decided to go back to your apartment for a nap. You hope the next time you have this class, it’ll go much smoother. There’s nothing more embarrassing than having the entire class whisper about you and the teacher being disappointed in you.

The next few days of classes go great, making you ready to deal with the second day of your photography class with Jung Wooyoung. Except here’s the bad news: there was traffic on the way there. You honestly almost cried while sitting in it, knowing you’d be late once again. There’s absolutely no way this could be happening to you yet again. And yet… it is.

By the time you get there you’re already 13 minutes late, and you still have to run 10 minutes to class. You make it in 8 minutes, but it doesn’t help. You honestly feel like breaking down, but instead, you open the door and march right in, headed to your seat. This time you don’t even spare a glance at him, hoping again that he’ll just let it go.

The class is dead silent, waiting for him to say something about your late arrival. He stands there for a second, staring down at his computer, before continuing class. You breathe out a sigh of relief, silently thanking him for not saying anything. It’s not until the end of class that you realize he didn’t let you off the hook.

As soon as you heard his statement “Class dismissed”, you immediately got up to leave, but was stopped by his booming voice. “Y/n, please stay back.” Your blood ran cold, stopping right in your tracks. You look to the front of the class, seeing him waiting with such an intimidating aura. His eye brow slightly raised, as if telling you to hurry it up and get over there.

As the rest of the class left, some staring at you on their way out, you headed over to his desk. Once his door was closed, he took a deep sigh, before beginning his spiel. “It’s the second day of class and you were late again,” he says with slight irritation in his voice. The tone makes you practically shrink down, wincing at his attitude. There’s nothing you hate more than a teacher that hates you. At least, you think he hates you.

You immediately rush to excuse yourself, holding onto the possibility that he will understand. “Mr. Jung, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to be late.” But he doesn’t budge, only standing there with his incredibly well plucked eyebrow raised at you. “I don’t know, Miss L/n. How do I know this won’t happen again? I surely don’t want to kick you out.” You stand in silence, desperately trying to find an answer to his question.

“I-… I don’t know,” you say, completely defeated. You can’t help traffic or abrupt problems, he surely knows that. “Tsk, how disappointing.” He turned around, most likely headed back to his desk. And so he does, sitting down in his new brown leather chair. But he’s still looking at you, head tilted sideways. And then his eyes darken, a sly smirk painting his lips.

Confusion crosses your face, not sure what’s going on. “Ah Y/n, there might be a way to get out of trouble…”, he claims, before signaling you to step in front of him behind his desk. You think you know where this is going, and one part of you is worried, the other part doesn’t care. You slowly move towards him, his eyes scanning every inch of your body as you do. You can’t say you don’t want him. That would be a lie.

You both communicate exactly what you want through your eyes. There’s lust in his eyes, that, you can tell. Once you stand in front of him, his hand comes up to your hip, lightly squeezing it. He doesn’t make any moves, just watching every curve of your body. Finally he meets your eyes, “Are you sure you want this?” Yesterday, if this happened, you wouldn't have said no. That would be crazy. But something about him pulls you in.

“Yes,” you seal the deal immediately, knowing without a doubt that you want him. He quickly stands up, taking you aback. Before you can react, he turns you around and pushes you against his crowded desk. You land on some pens, pencils, and papers. Obviously, he doesn’t mind though. Immediately his hips are against yours, pressing you further into the table.

There’s something about this position, your ass being fully displayed for him, that gets you so wet. He doesn’t keep you waiting, yanking down your skirt to the ground, along with your panties. There’s a sharp inhale behind you, almost making you worried. But as soon as his cold fingers slid through your wetness, you knew he saw exactly what had happened inside your panties. You were soaked.

It only took about 5 seconds for him to plunge two of his fingers into your cunt. And damn did he love the way you were sucking him in. “What a greedy little pussy, holding onto me so tight.” You couldn’t help the loud moan you let out, the feeling of his curling fingers already making you want more. There’s no way you would last long. “What do you want, baby? Tell me.” The teasing tone in his voice makes you unsure if he’s actually going to give you what you want. But you tell him nonetheless.

“Please sir… your cock.” You thought it would take more than that, maybe some begging or giving him head. But no, he caved in right away. You felt his hips leave yours, before the sound of his belt being unbuckled filled the room. He was soon reaching into one of his drawers, pulling out a shiny wrapper. Thank god he was smart enough to use protection. He rolled the condom on, wasting no time before lining himself up. There’s no way you would’ve survived another second without him inside you.

He was thick, making you groan at the stretch. Once he was all the way in, your hands unclenched the front of the desk. Honestly, you didn’t know if you could handle him. He was already stretching you off so much. Thankfully, he started out slow, slowly dragging his hips backwards. He wasn’t very long, but that made it more enjoyable. After a few thrusts, you finally broke, “Faster.” But he stopped. Immediately your head lifted from the desk.

You looked back at him, only for him to snap his hips back into you at that second. Your eyes widened, making him chuckle in response. “Isn’t this what you wanted, baby?”, his thrusts were punishing, making your eyes roll back in your head. “Didn’t you want me to fuck you senseless? Isn’t that why you keep staring at me in class?” Not a single word could make it out of your mouth, too busy fighting off the warmth building in your stomach.

You know he feels it, you clenching down on him with every thrust. So he brings his middle finger down to your clit, rubbing tight circles into the sensitive bud. You try to hold on, but it’s too much. The orgasm itself was so powerful that nothing even came out of your mouth, only sat wide open in a silent moan. Your eyes were shut so tight it almost hurt. And your cunt clenched down on him so hard that it triggered his orgasm.

Everything went blank for a good minute, you being too exhausted to even move. That had to be the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Once you hear the chair move, you finally noticed he was still there. Both your panting filled the silence. It only took a couple of minutes for the harsh breaths to subside. You were only left with your tired body and him in his chair, both of you still painfully naked.

Carefully, you moved around, collecting your clothes and dressing again. He followed suit, just in case anyone joined the party. There was an awkward silence hanging over you two. Finally you decided to just leave, hoping to just escape and not deal with the conversation around what the fuck just happened. But before you can leave, he says, “Don’t be late for class next time, Y/n. You don’t want this to happen again, do you?”, you turn back to see his charming wink. Maybe next time you’ll just have to be late again, you smile to yourself.

I do not give permission for anyone to repost my work

[andantexvii]

// Promises // Pt. 1

Eddie Munson x Reader

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Word Count ~ 3,004

Summary ~ When a new girl in Hawkins strikes the younger members of Hellfire as one of Eddie’s ‘lost sheep’ types, he’s encouraged to reach out. She’s standoffish, for the most part, but Eddie manages to break the ice with a genuine admiration of her art. It’s a start, but by the time the bell rings, he’s thankful to have at least gotten a foot in the door...

Warnings ~ Profanity; bullying; Tolkien lore(?); use of she/her pronouns, though the main character’s details are kept to a minimum, only being plus-size is explicitly stated - so I hope it can still be enjoyed as a “reader” experience!

Author’s Notes ~ So, I’ve been messing around with this one for a while, and it really just started off as some private comfort drabbles for myself. I connected with Eddie’s character almost immediately, especially since I went through some similar experiences in school - up to and including some unflattering rumors. Some of the main character’s details, interests, and expressed sentiments may be specific, but all-in-all, I wanted to keep it a “reader” friendly experience for my fellow Eddie lovers. I'm disabled, so I can't promise a consistent posting schedule, only that they'll arrive as soon as I can finish them - that said, my addled brain can sometimes overlook some editing errors. If it's glaring, I don't mind being notified, but if it's passable, let it pass~

I did make a small time adjustment to be able to (time appropriately) include some themes and media I plan to reference in the future - so the year is 1987. Enjoy!

“Trees of Valinor” photo by Aronja-Art!

→

It was a long-awaited Friday, one of the first of the new school year, and the cafeteria buzzed with electricity. Mostly due to the anticipation of some sports ball game, or another, but in a friendly corner, toward the end of a familiar table, a group of voices clamored amongst themselves, excitedly, blissfully ignoring the energy generated by the rest of the room.

"New semester, new campaign! C'mon, Eddie, man!" A scrawny sophomore groaned. "We've been doing nothing but one offs for weeks now!"

Sliding a pretzel between his lips, the head of the rattling table lifted an eyebrow with a coy smile.

"By failing to prepare, Wheeler, you're preparing to fail. S'not my fault if you've refused to see my, mmh, readiness exercises as anything more than mere placeholders." He chuckled with all the sinister theatrics he could muster, bringing a laugh to the table, and gasps from a cluster of girls seated nearby.

"My sincerest apologies." Eddie gave them a cordial half-bow from his seat, which garnered him only a few odd looks and an eye roll. ‘Can't win 'em all.’ Though he'd grown quite used to that, thinking nothing of it as he turned back to his flock. "...a-a-anyway, we'll see how that lack of preparedness serves you in your daunting trials ahead."

"Daunting trials, he says. This guy!" A heavy-set boy to Eddie's other side droned in a tone half in disbelief and half in delight. 

It was Hellfire Friday, once again.

"Indeed, and I expect you, one and all, to come prepared. Each of my, ahem, 'one offs', came packaged with a lesson." He rolled his head toward Mike with a smarmy grin. "A clue, if you will, that will aid you in your arduous tasks. An' no repeats if you weren't paying attention, been writing that shit for weeks. Not my fault if you refuse to appreciate it."

"At least give us a hint, man!" Gareth pleaded over the rim of his soda can.

"'Fraid not, my little adventurers! All will be revealed in due time, now huddle up; got a few things to keep in mind, yeah?" 

In his best commanding voice, Eddie began to ramble a bit, seemingly enjoying the sensation of spinning an intricate tale - or the sound of his own voice, it was hard to be certain sometimes. All heads leaned in, hanging on his every word, save the far-gazed Dustin at Mike's arm who continued to gaze, curiously, out the window.

He sipped chocolate milk through a straw, idly, as he sat pondering something in the courtyard. For a moment, he looked as though he might get up, but quickly sunk back down into his seat. He had seemingly gone ignorant to the hum of voices around him, until he was snapped out of his daze by a pretzel grazing the tip of his nose.

"Am I borin' you, Henderson?" Eddie asked, another pretzel between his fingers, ready to be flicked.

"N-No, it's just-" Dustin began, grabbing for a napkin.

"Then why, oh why, is my little sheepie looking so lost again?"

"Rude, dude." Gareth mumbled under his breath.

Dabbing at his chin, and a few spots on the table, Dustin looked to Eddie apologetically; nodding, reflexively, if only to keep peace at the table for the time being.

"S-Sorry man, I just… n-noticed something, that's all." He gestured toward the window he'd been staring out.

"Well, clearly it wasn't all the effort I've been puttin' in for you guys, eh?" Eddie eyed him for a moment as he got to his feet, turning on his heels toward the row of windows behind them; the smirk on his face betraying the fact he was hardly upset at all.

A few short strides, and Eddie pressed his nose flat to the window pane, dark eyes scanning the busy school yard for whatever could have pulled Dustin's attention away from the gory details of their impending campaign. For several long moments, he noticed nothing particularly out of the ordinary, just the regular passing of the odd group of students here and there.

"Not sure what's got you so utterly transfixed out here, Henderson." His voice was slightly muffled as he comedically kept his face pressed to the glass, gathering him more than a few strange looks. 

"So, as I was saying-" Eddie began again as he started to turn around, stopping only when his gaze crossed with that of a group of wild jocks. 

Rather, he noticed them as they continued to enjoy pretending he didn't exist, lest it suited them - all the better for him, really, when it came down to it. Though their utter unawareness of the twisted, mocking face he made at them against the window pane was, admittedly, a bit disappointing. Content that whatever had been interesting had passed, and his antics would go unnoticed, Eddie made to turn around once more, before spotting what must have surely been the point of Dustin's fixation. Maybe? 

At the far side of the yard, a girl sat hunched intently over a broad sketch pad, utterly engrossed in her task. Her ample thighs giving support to the wide, thick paper as she rested her back against the warm bricks - an array of fine colored pencils sat upright in a pouch by her knee, along with several others spread out within easy reach.

"Whoops!" An unfamiliar voice bellowed overhead. The girl barely had a moment to look up, before catching sight of her pencils scattering across the pavement and grass, neatly punted by one of the boys as they passed. 

"My bad!" Said another, purposefully skipping a step to ensure his heel came down hard on the few that remained at her side, splintering the wood, and crushing the soft cores to a useless dust.

Snickering to themselves, the group didn't even take a moment to break their passing stride as the girl, with more patience and grace than the situation deserved, placed her work aside to gather her belongings back, before more were carelessly ruined underfoot by students scurrying by.

"Should be more careful!" A cocky blonde at the head of the group called over his shoulder with a mock tone of concern. 

Jason Carver. Eddie was unfortunately familiar with the popular, well-liked, golden boy. He could almost remember a time when the two of them might have been friends, or at least not so stereotypically the antithesis of one another, but that time had long passed. Though Jason rarely participated, actively, in the antagonistic antics of his peers, he was woefully slow, if not completely unwilling to stop it.

Eddie grimaced sympathetically as he watched the girl gingerly weave her hands between passing legs, trying her best not to get her fingers stepped on. Holding his tongue between his lips for a long while, his train of thought was broken only when Dustin's gently inquisitive voice beckoned to him.

"I mean, I'd just never seen her before. Out there, by herself, never talking to anyone, and it's been that way for days. Weeks? I don't know, I guess I was just thinkin', y'know… little lost sheep?" He grinned and shrugged, unsure if it was his place to make such a suggestion. Eddie spoke often of passing the mantle to his younger group members but, at present, seemed rather content to be in the position of decision making.

Turning back toward the table, his face stern, Eddie opened his metal lunchbox and swept anything he hadn't finished, inside and slammed it closed. Lacing his fingers he cracked his knuckles, and nodded to the group members in turn, wordlessly. He hadn't anticipated playing shepherd today, on this, the day his longest and most brutal campaign yet began, but when had anything expected ever really happened to him? He'd made it his duty to look after people like those he called friends, those like Dustin, Lucas, and Mike - and they were the ones for whom he strived to set an example.

Besides, Higgins couldn't keep him here forever. Right?

"Good lookin' out, Henderson." Eddie clapped an amiable hand on the boy's shoulder. "Hellfire's gonna need people like you, when the rest of us ascend to the great beyond, eh?"

"Like that'll ever happen." Gareth snorted at him.

"Never say never, big boy." Eddie pointed a finger under his nose, giving it a friendly flick before skipping a few steps away.

"I'll catch up with you all tonight, same time, same place. Come prepared." He tossed a wink in Mike's direction.

Eddie had never considered himself much of a hero; it was easier to play one behind an inch tall figurine. Better even yet, to devise the machinations that would drive little would-be heroes toward their goals. On paper anyway. Damsels usually found him a cause for their distress, or at least tended to cross the street or double check their car door locks when he passed by. 

Yet there he stood, a few bold strides away as Dustin's Damsel gathered the last of her sullied supplies, looking rather helpless, knees down on the sidewalk. Yeah, that looked enough like distress… and there was a first time for everything. Usually. 

From the corner of his eye, he spotted one of her pencils that had likely been scattered in the brief fray and stooped to pick it up. Letting it roll across his palm, he admired the deep red hue or "crimson lake" as the silver, inlaid label called it - he knew next to nothing about art and what supplied it, but it was clear these were no discount bin Crayola. ‘Crimson Lake’ he thought to himself, lost briefly in thought; almost worthy of being the name of a campaign landmark. Leaving his dungeon planning for tonight’s festivities he finally stepped toward the girl, who'd yet to get to her feet, and held the pencil down to her eye level with the most genuine smile he could muster. 

"Missed one!" He tried to twirl it, smoothly, between his fingers like a baton and only succeeded in sending it clattering onto the concrete. Critical miss.

"Ugh." The girl cringed at the sound and snatched the scuffed pencil off the sidewalk, securing it before more damage could be done. "Thanks, I guess?"

“Oof, hey, that’s not usually how that trick goes, my bad.” Eddie grinned, trying to smooth over his moment of embarrassment, quickly looked for any distraction from his fumble, a segue back to his trademark charm. Scanning for any additional pencils she might have missed, his eyes instead fell on her sketchpad and he was immediately, unabashedly, drawn in.

“Oh, this, th-i-i-s here? This is sick!” Resisting the childlike urge to snatch the paper up for a better look - he figured her belongings had been mishandled enough for one day - he crouched over the drawing she'd been working on and rubbed his hands excitedly. He licked his lips, eyes scanning the page back and forth, taking in the level of detail she’d managed already, and even he could tell it was only half finished.

"Sweet! It's… it's the Trees of Valinor, right? Oh man, this is so wicked. A lady of culture and taste, I see, to suffer the Silmarillion." He mimed tipping a hat, cordially, in her direction before turning back to admire the piece once more.

The girl was quiet for a few long moments as she got to her feet and dusted herself off, hopeful to preserve any shred of dignity she had left. Eyeing the strange boy for a moment she was flattered at his admiration of her work, to be sure, though curious as to what had drawn him to it now.

"Yeah… yeah it is. You, um, you recognized it? Just like that?" She asked gently; her encounters thus far at Hawkins High, including today, had seemingly left her unsure of who could be easily talked to.

"Oh, hell yeah!" Eddie lit up again, with no small amount of enthusiasm. 

He'd been a rabid fan of Tolkien since he could remember knowing how to read. Even if the text didn't always make sense to his young mind, he'd devoured them again and again, enamored by the high fantasy lore. He could probably quote them by page number at this point, but one step at a time.

"Look at that, Laurelin, there…" His fingers traced the curve of golden boughs on the paper, again, careful not to actually touch it. "...and Telperion. Oh man, how'd you get it to look like true silver like that? I know, I know the magician never reveals their secrets but, damn, this is bitchin'!"

She watched curiously as he pored over her drawing, like a frantic boy, never having seen someone so enamored with art derived from, what most would call, nerd literature. Nevermind being able to recognize it at first sight. It brought a tentative smile to her face for a moment, before she laid eyes on the remains of a pale gray pencil, now mostly splinters.

"Doesn’t matter how, guess it'll never be finished." She bent to pick up the pencil, surprised at how well it still clung together, even if it was entirely useless now.

"Huh?" Eddie broke his gaze with the drawing and glanced up; he was fairly sure whatever was in her hands used to be a pencil. "Ah, damn, ruined, huh? Those dudes are such pricks, let me tell ya', don't feel too special, they pull that kinda’ shit with everyone who doesn't fit their mold."

"I'll try not to let the royal treatment go to my head?" She raised an eyebrow, knowing he meant well, but it was difficult to see much good, given the circumstances. "Fuck, these are expensive. Ack, uh, excuse me."

"Far be it from me to judge the speech of a woman scorned." He raised both hands with an unapologetic grin, though behind it lay a bit of an empathetic gritting of his teeth. Something in her voice told him they wouldn’t easily be replaced - a feeling he knew well.

She sank in on herself for a moment, and he couldn't tell if she was simply embarrassed at the outburst, or if something else was eating at her entirely. He knew the cost to have and keep something important to you, and the fear of having it ruined or lost… so quite likely the latter.

"I'm Eddie, by the way." He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the awkward silence blooming between them.

"I know."

"You… know?" He tilted his head to one side and studied her profile as she set about packing her things. His uncle had always warned him overindulgence in the herb would stunt his brain, but he was certain he'd never spoken to this girl before today.

"We have chemistry together. Though, you tend to spend most of it asleep, yeah?"

"Ohh, yeah that's right after lunch! Full tummy, it's nap time for growing boys, you know?" He patted his belly, hoping to elicit a laugh - but understood her sustained silence, all things considered. "Those who know me, call me ‘The Freak’, those who love me call me The Dungeon Master."

She tilted her head in his direction with a slight eye roll and a smirk. It wasn't the laughter he had hoped for, but it was a start.

"I see, and which would you prefer I call you?" She studied him for a moment as she hoisted her bag onto one shoulder, just in time for the bell to ring.

"We-e-ell, that remains to be seen. Right now, I figure you're hovering pretty close to 'freak', but if you churn out sick pieces like that?" He gestured to her sketch pad again. "I'm hopin' we eventually land at Dungeon Master."

His infectious grin failed to rouse her, yet again, as she pointed to the bound drawing book just behind him.

"Mind handing me that?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, sure, here…" Tenderly, he wrapped his fingers around the edges of the paper and handed over her collection of masterpieces. Clicking his tongue as he watched her fold it closed and tuck it under her arm, wondering what other treats for the eye it held. "Eddie. Eddie is fine for now. We can work with that, yeah?"

"Right. Well, 'Eddie Is Fine', I've gotta' be off. We, uh, both do… I guess."

"Yeah, right, 'cause the bell… oh, wait, I had something for you. Red, red, your red." He patted his pockets a few times, remembering vividly picking up the pencil he'd used to break the ice between them. Ice that was rapidly reforming.

"You… you gave it to me already." She wiggled her fingers, teasing him about his prior, pencil twirling mishap.

"That I did!" He said with feigned, and utter confidence. "Just makin' sure you remembered, you know? Sweet shade of red, by the way. ‘Crimson Lake!’ Hey, so listen…" 

He looked up to see she'd already turned and begun to walk away, and he hadn't even made his proper pitch yet. Not a man to take no for an answer, at least not the first or third time, he jogged boldly to her side, trying to stoke the embers of conversation again.

"So, listen, mind if I talk while we walk?" He grinned down at her as his presence parted the hallway crowd for them.

"I don't think you've stopped talking yet. You pour all your points into charisma? I'd say that investment isn't paying off."

"Whoa! Attack of opportunity, and she knows when to strike. I like it… so uh, you're new, and I've got this thing I'd be interested in you being interested in…"

Hopefully, he could get his spiel out before they reached the door; not that he was averse to talking through another boring lecture, of course. It’d be a refreshing change of pace for his typical nap period, anyway. Still, she at least seemed to be listening, so far, and utterly unashamed to be seen walking with him; he'd thank a lucky roll for that.

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - Wes Finally Snaps

For: @hauntedchilis @lexosaurus

Danny’s down for being used but only for unconventional means

Danny and Wes glance at each other, both scowling after a beat. Danny laughing, “of fucking course they’d stick us together”.

“I really really hate the universe sometimes”.

“Yeah I’m sure you do, Wes”.

Wes flips him off for that one, before everyone glances back to the teacher; who was some out-of-town substitute that was gonna be here for the better part of the entire semester due to Mr. Trent fucking up his lab shit and damn near blowing off his own fingers. That man was more of a danger to himself than any ghost could ever hope to be.

“Alright now that we’re all paired off-”. Earning him lots of groaning since most people didn’t exactly like their assigned partners. “-relax I simply want a short presentation on something that is unique, vital, special, or anything else along those lines, about Amity Park”, grinning, “I am new so this would be a wonderful and more interactive way to get to know everyone and this town”. What the man doesn’t know is that kind of statement is only going to encourage people to fuck with him. Especially Danny.

Danny sticks out an arm and claps his hand on Wes’s shoulder unnecessarily hard, ”Wes, you may use me”. Which gets him probably one of the only smiles he’s ever gotten from the wannabe sleuth; it’s a mean smile but at least the teen looks more than a little starry-eyed.

---

“So let me get this straight. You won’t let me use any of your actual proper power crap?”.

Danny just smirks and nods very meanly.

Wes scowls, “oh come on”, and gives him a pretty solid death glare. Which Danny rolls his eyes, “be more creative than that Wes. Who knows, maybe you’ll discover something even I don’t know”. Now that, that seems to perk Wes’s interests.

“Fine”, pointing aggressively, “but you better not cop-out at the last second purely to give me a shitty grade”.

“Wes, your ahem ‘conspiracy theory bullshit’ is practically part of Amity’s charm anyway. It literally doesn’t matter”.

Wes glares up at the sky, “oh how I hate this town”; making Danny laugh at his expense something fierce. Looking back down at Danny, “well get up then you stupid ghost, show me what I’m working with”.

“Oh I don’t think so. I’m just gonna lay here like a useless sack of potatoes. I’m already pulling my weight in this shit by just letting you do this”.

“Fuck. You. Empathically”. Wes actually bends down, pulls Danny’s arm over his shoulder and tries hauling him up; Danny meanwhile was one hundred percent serious about being a potato sack, and is thus staying completely limp. Not like he’s hard for Wes to pick up anyway, which actually makes the sleuth pause, “how do you weigh less than my backpack”.

“Oh maybe because you stuff yours full of your silly little notes and sticky pads”.

Wes absolutely drops him, very intentionally aiming for Danny’s head to land square on a rock. The thunk sound is painfully loud and Danny scowls, “now that, that was just mean”.

“You couldn’t even be bothered to try and stop your fall, you gravity nullifying bastard”, blinking, “wow you are seriously going to just let me do whatever huh”.

“Fuck around and find out, pal”.

And with that Wes hauls Danny back up and full force yeets Danny into a tree. Did Danny maintain his limpness? Absolutely; he knew how to commit to a bit. Wes jogging over and staring down at him, “huh. Do your bones glow when you break them? Why?”.

“Do you seriously think I’m actually going to explain that? But if you think my perpetually injured ass didn’t already know about that then you’re kidding yourself”. Besides, in Danny’s opinion the answer was really obvious. The ecto acting up in the break to work on healing said break. Like duh. Wes clearly agrees as the guy mumbles about the super healing factor he assumes Danny has; which Danny will neither confirm nor deny.

And then Wes goes and dumps an entire bottle of ectoplasm on his face. Danny blinking it out of his eyes, “and why do or did you just have an entire bottle of ectoplasm on you?”.

“Research”.

Danny just rolls his eyes at that, while raw ectoplasm does what it does whenever it’s in contact with his ecto-field for any prolonged amount of time and starts gaining mild whispy sentience.

“Wow, that’s impressively freaky looking”.

Danny smirks, “you should see what happens with black ectoplasm, that shit’s some very vocal crap”.

“There’s black ectoplasm? Ectoplasm comes in different colours?”.

Okay, that Danny has to sit up at, pointing at the teen, “how the fuck did you not know that?!?”.

“Is that how your eyes can turn blue?!?!?!?”.

“Fucking OBVIOUSLY!?!?”.

Wes looks like he’s having a mild crisis or two; fucking good honestly, serves him right. Wes’s stunned expression breaks as a bit of the ectoplasm drips off Danny’s face onto the ground, the sorta whisp floating off into the air aimlessly. “Eat them”.

“What”.

Wes blinks at Danny and looks him straight in the eyes, “eat them. Be a ghostly man and eat them”.

Danny scrunches his face up at Wes but obliges, very aggressively stuffing one of the Whisps in his mouth and effectively chowing down. Swallowing, “you know, if you weren’t such a truth-obsessed bitch we could actually maybe be friends”.

“Yeah no. You are, like, the worst”.

“Cut deep why dontcha”.

“Not as deep as your oblivious folks”.

“Wow fuck you”, Danny wipes off as much ectoplasm from his face as he can and lobs it at the other teen; earning him one very offended squawk and some erratic flailing.  Wes then slaps him, so Danny slaps him back; which obviously leads into a slap fight. And sure maybe Danny lets his head do a three-sixty just to fuck with the guy, but whatever.

Wes actually gags at him, “oh you suck so much”.

“What can I say? I enjoy being everyone’s problem, but especially yours”, shrugging exaggeratedly, “sure I’ll be Mr. Teachers for a class instead, but I'm a bigger picture kinda guy”.

Wes scowls, “no you’re not!”, and throws his hands out, “if you fucking were you wouldn’t be keeping shit like yourself secret from the world!”.

Danny screws his face up aggressively, “excuse me but what?!?”. Did Wes have it in his head that keeping himself secret, literally protecting himself and others, was somehow the bad choice? The actual fuck.

“You’re literally hiding the threat of half-ghost hybrid creatures from the public! WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘what’?!?”.

“Well EXCUSE ME for not wanting to be fucking DISSECTED?!?!”, gesturing wildly, “or accidentally help the government make super soldiers outta half a sources they don’t even think have FEELINGS or can feel PAIN! Fuck you!”.

“They wouldn’t-”.

“Are you REALLY stupid enough to believe that?!? Holy shit!”, facepalming and shaking his head, “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one in this town”.

“I AM!”.

“Then why the FUCK would you think me giving up any aspect of myself to the freaking government or public would be some kind of great plan?!?”.

Wes counts off on his fingers very aggressively, “public safety! Better defences! Medical advancement! Maybe I don’t know! Actually start getting along with you fucks!”.

“Wes! The last fucking thing the people who tried to NUKE AN ENTIRE DIMENSION want to do is-”, air quoting mockingly and with a sneer, “-‘improve relations between the races’”.

“THAT ISNT EVEN WHAT I SA- wait NUKES?!?!?”, and sputters.

Danny rolls his eyes harshly, “yes nukes, Wes. Not even a year ago”. Danny scowls almost threateningly when Wes just stares startled at him. “Get off your frickin’ self created pedestal. Do you ever wonder why none of the ghosts ever try to expose me? Huh?!? Literally ALL OF THEM KNOW! But humans-”, grimacing meanly, “-are too fucking bigoted. And you’re not any better!”, jabbing the other teen in the chest with a finger, “literally the only actual reason you think my shit should be public knowledge is because you are human, and have no fucking knowledge about ghosts”, dropping his hand, “the only reason I don’t give you more shit and trouble is because you don't fucking know better”, scoffing, “ignorance at it’s fucking finest”, waving around dismissively, “Sam would say human privilege making you oblivious, or whatever”.

“… well… well if the public knew then everyone would know better-”.

“Oh yeah? Well how many ghosts would get dissected and tortured and destroyed before humanity ‘understood’ enough to actually get off their shit?!? Sorry not sorry, Wes, I don’t take gambles like those”.

Wes sputters a bit, grumbling, “you’re just exaggerating”, muttering to himself, “it wouldn’t be like that”.

“No. You’re just, again, ignorant. It is already ‘like that’”.

“What”.

“Come on, you think I don’t hack and keep tabs on the G.I.W.? I’m not fucking stupid! Ancients if you had any forethought you would’ve hacked them your damn self. It’s not like it’s hard to find! Since there’s so. damn. much. there”.

“Excuse me for not having your sidekicks skills!”, Wes sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, breathing. “Fine. Maybe, maybe, I’ll… consider all of that”.

Danny blinks at him and throws up his hands, “holy shit finally. And Wes? If it’s anything, literally anything, Red? The girl who became a hunter out of pure hatred for me? Yeah she agrees with me”.

“Wait so she finally figured out either you or that she’s working for another hybrid?”.

Danny stares at him and facepalms, seriously? “Is that seriously what you care about?”, and laughs disbelievingly to himself before just descending into a fit of giggles and lays down on the ground. Wes joining after a beat and sitting down.

Danny wheezing, “how have I never thought to try and smack you with how dangerous what you’re doing is before?”.

“‘Cause you’re a dumbass!… and I’m still holding out on actually fully believing you”.

Danny snorts, “course. Whatever floats your boat, asshole”, sighing, “but have we really come out of this with more of an understanding of each other?”.

Wes blinks up at the sky, “huh. Guess so… fuck you still though”.

“Right back at you, you fake ass sleuth”.

Ah sweet sweet normalcy re-achieved.

…

“So…”.

Wes shakes his head, “alright what other weird shit can I get you to do”.

Danny absolutely laughs at that.

---

By the time presentation day came around everyone had actually figured out their shit, and the presentations were as baffling, absurd, difficult to look at, and silly, as everyone pretty much expected.

Mikey and Kwan did one on all the weird wavers and forms that people had to sign to stay in amity for any amount of time so that the city wouldn’t get sued to oblivion for damages, injuries, or traumas; course most of them were the ones that visit spots teams had to sign. Undoubtably Kwan and his buddies damn near forced that on the poor nerd.

Emilie and Hanna did theirs on elderly hand-to-hand combat, it was almost entirely a slide show of old folks beating up or chasing the Box Ghost; which yes, pleased Danny immensely.

Dale, Star, and Todd -the only uneven team- did theirs on medical practices of all things. They were also decidedly shady about where they got all their example items, everyone damn well knew they were stolen from the hospital or nurse's office though.

Jack and Lily did theirs on Wes actually, which the entire class couldn’t stop laughing over even if the teacher seemed less than impressed and Wes could be heard audibly scowling the entire time interspersed with shouted ‘BUT I’M RIGHT YOU ARE ALL JUST BLIND!’s and ‘I AM NOT CRAZY!’s.

By the time it was Danny’s and Wes’s turn Wes was already a poked bear and Danny was a hyena in full cackle mode. Wes winding up having to just drag Danny up to the front, the rest of the class are already snickering or pretending to be uninterested to maintain appearances.

“I hate every last one of you”.

Danny snickers, “I don’t… mostly”, and snickers; multiple people roll their eyes at him.

Wes just scowls, lifts Danny up like he’s just a really long plushie -which Danny just goes stiff as a board for because why not- and ‘snaps’ Danny’s back like a glow stick over his knee, shakes him, and boom glowstick Danny; which Danny might have helped along by internally moving around the closer to the surface ‘activated’ ectoplasm to most of his bodies skin surface. Wes does jazz hands: “SEE!!!!!”.

The whole presentation just descends into madness from there.

Wes dumping buckets worth of ectoplasm on Danny’s head, ripping off hair to show it still wiggling, opening and shutting his mouth like a wooden puppet on a random blob because Danny is again just letting Wes do shit without helping especially when Dany thought it would be comical, turning a homemade hairspray flamethrower on Danny’s face to show just cold steam instead of burns, using Danny’s blood to dissolves some sticks, and so on.

All while just repeatedly shouting: “SEE!” and “LOOK!” and “IT! IS! OBVIOUS!”.

When Wes eventually just runs out of his ideas, and his lung capacity, Danny chuckles, “and that’s our presentation”, while dripping a mess of gunk slowly down onto the floor.

The poor fucking janitor.

The teacher also looks horrified.

But hey! At least the class is having a blast. Some pounding their desks, laughing into their hands, wheezing trying not to laugh, or recording the Hell that was going on.

Danny turns to Wes, lifting up a hand for a high-five, “well done, sleuthie partner”. Wes crouches down on his ankles, forearms on his knees, and speaks into his hands, “I… fuck you”, looking up to the class, “also, fuck you all, but nothing I’ve said touches the G.I.W. ears yeah? Ugh”.

That gets the entire class to pause for a solid minute before Danny turns around facing the board and sticks his hands up in the air, “YES! I HAVE BURNED THE CONSPIRACY NUTS TRUST IN THE GOV DOGS!”, spinning around on Wes wildly, “now you can become your true government-fearing, tinfoil-hat-wearing, microchips-in-our-brains, ruling-class-are-lizard-people, deep-web-truth-seeker; self! HA!”. Wes punches him in the shin and the class fucking loses it.

The teacher blinks and breathes harshly after a bit, “I.. I actually think both of you might need therapy”.

Danny gives the guy a goofy thumbs up.

End.

Prompts: Wes and Danny are assigned to work on a school project together and Wes and Danny are assigned to work on a school project together

[headingalaxys-spicy]

To prepare for college this year, I’m spending some time in my dorm before the semester starts. It’s the farthest I’ve ever been from home alone (like multiple states away) and I’m actually kinda scared. Could I pretty please have France, America, Canada, and or Germany and Italy comforting a friend via a phone call or something?? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just fluffy would be nice. Thank you so much in advance! I really love your works! :)

I’m glad you like my work thank you. 🥹

Anyways…

*BUSTS DOWN DOOR WITH 2P AMERICA’s BAT because I came here to BEAT UP THE SADNESS*

Some of these are voicemails that are meant to be supportive and be funny distractions. There are two dialogues because I couldn’t think of anything but all of them but, the same I hope you like it. And congratulations on a new year in college you’re going to do great.

🇺🇸 America 🇺🇸

“Yo Y/N How are you? How was the flight? How is (university name)? Have you met anyone yet that you have super awesome super hero movie marathons with? I also heard that there was this weird school tradition that your school does where students run around in their underwear during finals? Dude that sounds wicked awesome! Your school knows how to party! I want to join you ! ahahahahahaha!”

He lets out his signature boisterous heroic laugh. He goes on about Halloween plans and other things he wants to do with you on that weekend. He also wanted to take you apple picking, have cozy bonfires and cuddles sessions, pumpkin carving, and scaring the living hell out of Arthur. At least for now you knew you had a friend who’d come to visit you while you started this new chapter in life.

🇨🇦 Canada 🇨🇦

“Hey Y/N how are you?” He detected the concern in his gentle voice.

“I’m alright.” You say in a low cracking voice.

You got up from your bottom bunk bed in your dorm room. It was 20:13 and you wanted to watch the sun sink below the city’s outline. You glided your eyes across the campus watching few spots move about in your vision. Not too many people were on campus just yet and not all summer sessions had ended. You had been lost in your foggy tangled forest of thought you didn’t reconizge that you hadn’t responded to Matthew’s question. You remaind silent for over a minute. This prompted Matthew to repeat your nave several times until he reached his chreshendo that pulled your attention back to him. But you were still in your emotional haze.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to come and comfort you ASAP? I can if you’re really not feeling so well. I know it’s hard but I know you can do it. But you’re also really far away.”

“You’re right Matthew. It is all overwhelming and even just a little bit scary.” You think about all of the bad scenarios running through your mind and you feel your heart start to race and maybe even a few tears make their way to your eyes.

“Of course. Being an adult tends to be that way but, you are one of the strongest people I know…Building the life that you’ve always have wanted. Going through this is importaint but you can do it I know you can.”

The swirling tornado of emotions froze and you still had those lingering feelings with less intsneity.

After another long pause you told Matthew.

“Don’t worry Matt. I can survive until I see you and the FACE family again for camping in September. Where we’re going to prank FRA-”

“ALFRED!” Matthew Shouts. He was still seething over the curel prank that his older brother pulled on him last year.

“Ahem. Sorry aboot that Y/N hahah…Anyways I believe in you have fun and make sure you try all the best pancakes in your university’s cafes!”

🇫🇷 France 🇫🇷

“Oh mon ami how are you?”

“Fine I guess…..” He caught on to your lack of sparkle in your voice.

“Tell me darling what is it? This is your dream school no? Why so glum?”

You take in a deep breath and explain to him in detail all of the sad feelings that washed over you like high tides during a full moon. You tell him about the loneliness and how the separtaion makes you long to be at home and far away from your current location. This profound chnage in your life was overwhelming and you had no one to give you one of the good tight hugs that only people who knew you well knew how to give. Your voice was cracking over the speaker and France being an empath felt his own heart begin to crumble at your distress with the introduction of a new chapter in your life. He reained quiet and allowed you to drain your heart of sadness. The air was filled with your range of emotions and that helped clear your mind just a little. You wouldnn’t be like this always. But for now it was okay to feel the feels.

“You know I’m glad you’re talking to me Y/N. Is there any other way I can help you? I have already started to prepare a care package to send to you that has the most luxurious sweets. Macaroons, Madeleines, Mille Feuille, Mendiants, Mousse au Chocolat. It will be the magnificent MMMMMMM box.”

(I’m sorry, not sorry XD)

“Good-bye Francis.” You hang up with a deadpan look on your face and the faint traces of a smile trying to bust out.

“Wait Y/N NOOOO! I LOVE YOU DON’T DO THIS TO ME!” He frantically tries to call you back.

🇩🇪 Germany 🇩🇪

*Intentionally left a voicemail while you were on your flight. He wanted to be supportive but is better when he has a script and has rehearsed his lines of what he wants to convey.*

“Y/N I hope this message finds you well. When you land make sure you get some water as you’ve been in the air for over 8 hours you’re likely dehydrated and you should find some hearty food and rest. Also I hope your okay your smile faded rather fast when your turned from the group to head into the airport. It seemed like the reality of it all was beginning to hit you. You’re far away now but never out of reach of your friends and family that care about you. We’re all a call or text message away. Anyways I’m going to do that American holiday with you this year the Friendsgiving. Ja. So I hope you don’t have any plans the weekend before Thanksgiving because I rented out a cabin in Tahoe and have a nice itinerary so we can have the most fun. Viel Glück k Y/N. I know you’ll have a good semester and make new friends and aquaintaances. And remember take breaks. Call me when you’ve settled in okay? Tschüss.”

🇮🇹 Italy 🇮🇹

*Voicemail*

“Ve Ciao Y/N I hope your flight was nice and got to see some pretty views! Check your dorm entrance in 20 minutes there will be an Italian delivery guy that I know who runs one of the best Italian cuisine places in your area. I hope you like it it has a 5 course meal from the bread to the gelato and tiramisu. I know it can be lonely being in a new place but this is only temporary. You’re good at making friends. It’s how you met me hahah. Make sure we can at least talk once a week. Also we should be penpals we’re far away enough to where sending letters nowadays is a way we can make our friendship even more special! Anways call me soon and I miss you already. Hasta la Pasta ❤️”

[limerental]

ficletober day 3 - philippa/dijkstra

Busy pulling strings in Redania from the shadows, Philippa Eilhart receives a visit from a promising young spy. content warning for canon-typical Philippa Eilhart and grooming of teenaged boys with referenced/implied underage sex. Takes place ~30 years before the events of the saga with some fudged details about Redanian kings and politics. Given who Philippa is, I like to think it's pretty likely she was the one who originally recruited Dijkstra to the intelligence service and also given who she is, she was probably a little bit yucky about it

The boy planted both his hands on his knees, still huffing and puffing from his less than coordinated clamber up the trellis outside her window. She didn't bother to tell him he could have come in through the servant's door. Things were more amusing this way.

He was a clever lad and tripped over himself to bring her anything she needed, which these days was the comings and goings of the Academy, where one political unrest or another always seemed to be brewing.

But she had some suspicions that he withheld details here and there, simply so he had another reason to visit her the next night.

"You have news then?"

The boy straightened up, his breath finally returned to him. To her surprise, he had managed to hit another growth spurt, towering like a gawky gargoyle before her. He was certainly no looker and never would be. Not yet seventeen and his dark hair had already receded well past his temples.

"The Master Troy has taken a leave of absence. But some say he may not return for the next semester."

"Yes? And?"

"There's word that his retirement may not be wholly his idea."

Philippa sighed. She poured herself another few fingers of dark liquor and watched the boy follow her hands with his pale eyes. He was clearly hopeful that she would pour him a glass as well, ask him to sit in the high-backed chair beside her.

She did neither.

"Of course it's not his idea. He's an ancient old bat who still claims the sun circles around us and that we descended from amphibians. The Academy has wanted him out for years."

"Ahem," said the boy. "I only thought… I thought you might want me to figure out who wants him gone. Like with Vysogota of Corvo. He was officially exiled for religious heresy but less officially–"

"How old were you when he was exiled, boy?"

His cheeks pinked. He hadn't been born yet.

Under the aging rule of King Radovid IV, father to the present King Heribert, some poor sod was exiled once a week to appease one interest group or another.  The winds of the Redanian court had blown to and fro more times than she could count. At the moment, King Heribert was publicly wary and derisive of mages and spies but privately unwilling to dismiss them. 

Her doe-eyed young prince Vizimir showed far more promise. In a few years, Philippa imagined he would grow into a handsome, level-headed young man. Level-headed enough not to forget the rewards of allowing her and her agents influence over him.

"Thank you for the report," said Philippa. "But I'd prefer you leave any speculation to me, boy. You're still only seeing half the picture. Manuscripts and boring old professors can only teach so much. When's your graduation again?"

"This winter."

"Early?"

The boy's grin was full of crooked teeth. 

"Top of my class," he said with arrogance. Philippa did not bother to dissuade it, not yet. If all went well, she knew he would become a terrifying force for the Redanian Secret Service someday, and one needed a certain smug confidence to clash with kings and dissidents and uglier characters than that.

"Come here," said Philippa, and the boy visibly brightened with eagerness. At least, visibly to her, who had learned to read the slightest twitch of a man's face and glean his emotional state. 

Most men were too proud of the piddling things they felt and thought to learn to conceal them. Even a subjugated peasant man was likely to believe that his dopey ruminations meant something and mattered more than the mud and piss he slogged through.

Women, thought Philippa, will inherit all of this some day. And the men will not even wake from smug daydreams of their own importance long enough to realize.

The boy's expression barely shifted, and he did not move too swiftly. Admiring his subtlety, Philippa kicked off her heels and propped her legs up on the arm of the chair beside her. She watched the boy follow the curve of her long legs, limned in bronze light from the fireplace. "Well? Sit. They won't rub themselves."

"Yes, Madam Philippa."

The boy sat and took her feet into his lap, his clever thumbs pressing into the taut ache of her arches. He had nice hands. Big and smooth-palmed and exacting in the pressure they applied.

Perhaps after a bit more to drink, she would teach him a thing or two about using them in other ways.

"Sigismund," she said and touched the crown of his head. His hair there was soft and thin. "Pour yourself a glass. No, not so little. We're celebrating your graduation. And don't stop the rest in the meantime."

Dijkstra ducked his head to hide the burn of his cheeks and managed not to choke on the deep swallows of liquor. His fingers dug with surety into the meat of Philippa's heels.

[manias-wordcount]

Just Business (Yusuke Kitagawa)

Kinktober 2021 Day Seventeen: Sextoys

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚����𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

‘It’s just business,’ You both told yourselves, even as his hands lingered against yours for a second too long after the two of you agreed to help each other out when in a slump during the third week of the second semester in college.

 ‘It’s just business,’ You both told yourselves, even though he consistently shows up to all your photography exhibits, even when it’s a small gathering in your apartment with only your friends and a few strangers to see your work. 

 ‘It’s just business,’ You both told yourselves, even as you took him out to celebrate his numerous accomplishments, time and time again. And the treating him to something sweet as a reward for a job well done? Yeah, that’s business too. 

So this time when he told you he wanted to study human expression in the rawest form, you thought that was just business too. That’s why you spent one night showing him your portfolio. Hours after hours, the two of you poured over your work- dedicating so much thought to interpret what makes a smile really a smile and the beauty of candid emotions that you were able to capture with your trusty camera and some good timing.

  But when that didn’t work, you took him all over Tokyo with you, exploring the places where you took your best shots. The two of you people-watched for hours. Just sitting in silence and observing the very the same things you do every day: live. To you, it came so easily. The happiness, the anger, the sadness, and the fear. Sometimes it was jealousy, it was pride, it was bitterness and to you, it was beautiful. And that’s what you told him. You told him how you saw the many faces of the world but just looking at the many faces around you too. 

 And he got it. 

 At least, almost got it. 

 There was one emotion that always stood out to him yet he could never recreate such an image onto a face: pleasure. And when you offered to take him to a new place across town where you had recently gotten a lot of success regarding people enjoying something, he declined quietly, stating that “such pleasure would be taboo to expose out in public.”

 It was such a poetic way to express what he was trying to say, you almost missed his entire problem in the process of trying to interpret his words. But when you finally did understand what emotion he was talking about, you somehow found yourself shyly offering to help in any way you could. It’s just a study, right? Just business, of course. So what’s the harm in supporting a business partner, right?

 Well for starters, you were right. 

 There is no harm. Only pleasure. 

 Pure, unadulterated, mindblowing pleasure.

 “Y-Yusuke!” You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut out of instinct. “I- I can’t! I can’t!”

 Your wrists strain against the silk tie he used on you, flailing uselessly and desiring nothing to reach out and just grab something. You know its purpose- you know why he has your hands tied above your head while he hovers over you, sketchpad and pencil in hand. It’s has something to do with the way he has you laying flat on your back, hips shifting around like a whore. But knowing its purpose doesn’t change the fact that you hate it. You hate it, you hate it, you hate it. Though as much as you hate it, you’ll know there as far worse things out there. Things that’ll drive you insane, no matter how much you beg or scream or cry for mercy. 

 Things like the bullet-shaped vibrator Yusuke has stuffed inside of you and pressed right against your g-spot.

 “Fascinating.” You hear his murmur from above you, light and distracted. You can imagine the searching look in his intense eyes as he takes in the information in front of him and processes it in his own little weird way, storing it away for the future. “Your body both runs away and runs towards the stimulant at the same time. Absolutely stunning.”

 Your body is almost bare for Yusuke’s viewing- ahem, studying. Your clothes are folded neatly in some chair on the other side of the room, long discarded when Yusuke informed you that he needed a nude model for this particular session. You can’t say you were surprised- you know he’s asked you to model nude for him before, but you never really found a good reason to accept until now. Besides, you didn’t want your body to be on display for strangers in a gallery somewhere- no matter how many times Yusuke tried to convince you of the “divinity” of your body’s figure. Whatever that meant. 

 Though you wish you were told a little beforehand so you could know what to expect. Like for instance, just how cold his art studio is. You thought it was just barely comfortable when you had your sweater and jeans on, but now that you’re like this, you feel like you’re freezing.it was originally evident by your shivers here and there. Now, you can see it in your goose-bump-riddled skin and your pebbled nipples. Luckily for you, he has you feeling all hot in bothered in no time.

“Yusuke…” You beg again, trying your best to look him in the eye. Your strength falters quickly, as a sudden ship in your body’s position sends the vibrator somehow deeper inside of you. Instantly, your eyes flutter shut, the low buzzing inside of you taking over much of your concentration and will to fight. “Um...um…”

 “Gorgeous.” His praises, his words, his body his presence somehow amplify the experience. The light scribbling of his pencil barely catches your ears, and you can tell he’s savoring all the faces you’re making right now. It took a little while to warm up to him watching you like this- using a sex toy on you like this. But the second let fear slip from your grasp, you found yourself enjoying this way more than you probably should. “Such a lewd expression- so full ecstasy? I wonder if we changed the intensity…”

 The words register in your mind just a second too late because, in an instant, he sends you squealing at the vibrator’s sudden, newfound speed. Your back arches as soft noises and pants and pleas pass messily through your lips. He meets your every cry with a gentle word of his. Complimenting you, worshiping you, detailing all the little things he’s discovering about the human body as it’s introduced to various levels of certain types of pleasure. About your body as he introduced it to various levels of certain types of pleasure. 

 The way you turn your head from side to side as if you’re searching for something. The way your legs shake as you desperately try to keep them open, though ultimately end up losing the battle and giving in to your body’s desires. The way your nose twitches at the smell of sex filling the air and the way you’re so quiet for him but so very vocal and responsive. He drinks it all in. He studies it all. He memorizes it all. 

 Though when you finally find yourself cumming- with the most beautiful expression he’s ever seen (he ensures you, multiple times, in fact)- he’s right there, by your side, ready to take care of you. Untying your wrist, offering towels, water bottles, and murmuring soft, more personal praises about the show you just put on. Despite his lack of experience and the purpose behind this session being educational, your mind can’t help but wonder if this relationship of yours might develop past being ‘just business’ after today.

 After all, it’s not like he really needed you of all people to do this for him. And it’s not like he needed to ask if you’d be free to do this again for him. Without the pen and paper. And maybe, a more hands-on approach for the next time. But what can you say? For now, it's just business.

 A special type of 'just business' for you both, anyways

[sareinadale]

Two wrongs don't make a right

❛After many sleepless nights─ where she dreamt of her last encounter with Prince Hans, Elsa struggles to come to terms with her tumultuous relationship with the Southern Isles' 13th Prince, Hans Westergaard─ she decided to seek for solace and answer within the walls of Ahthohalla.❜

AHEM so last month I was inspired to write a Helsa one-shot based on this fanart.

This piece was originally posted as a Twitter Moment as part of my solo slash head cannon for my Twitter Roleplay account. I've decided to post them on AO3 as well.

I have at least 3 other WIPs for Helsa which I hope I can resume once I'm on my semester break. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I do and please do leave kudos if you like my first Helsa piece!

Thank you ♡

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 2

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banan @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey​ @deligxt​ 

Masterlist

“God I’m so fucking sick of this semester and it hasn’t even started yet.” You complained, lying on your roommates bed flipping through one of your textbooks for the upcoming semester.

“Relax, at least you have money and you’re smart y/n, you’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re an arts major, not an architecture student.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Nothing! It’s just different!”

“Mhm sure I’d love to see you paint a landscape or sculpt something.”

You gave your best friend a dirty look before focusing your attention back to the textbook.

Mia had been your best friend since 2nd grade and she had lived with you since you were 18. She had always been the more artistic one, doing dance from a young age and taking all sorts of art classes whenever she could. Her overall view on life was quite different from yours. She saw the world through the lens of an artist, and an optimist. 

Her views on relationships were very different from yours as well, with quite the laundry list of exes, each one more thrilling than the last. You honestly loved hearing all her stories and found it impressive how well she seemed to have the dating game figured out. You on the other hand, could count the men you’d slept with on one hand, and aren’t one for parties or anything like that, preferring to stay home and study or watch a drama.

With your dislike for parties and dating apps, you stayed pretty single. Not that you minded, being too swamped with schoolwork to make time for a real boyfriend anyway. Sometimes you thought about going out to parties and trying to find yourself a hookup but you never followed through, not wanting that kind of intimacy with a stranger.

“Did you see Baekhyun again last night?” She asked casually, knowing all about your work. Although for her, asking if he was there really meant ‘are you going to buy me my lunches again this week’.

“Yeah...” You contemplated for a second if you should tell her, but you quickly decided to just say it, not wanting to keep things from your best friend. “I told him my name. Like my real name.”

Her eyes went wide, definitely surprised by your confession. “Wait seriously? Why?”

“He asked and I just couldn’t tell him no.” You replied, much quieter now.

“Well it’s your choice but that really wasn’t a good idea, he’s already way too into you and now he’s just gonna think he actually has a shot with you.”

“Yeah I know I just.. I can’t explain it but it felt different.”

“He’s just another pervy dude who wants tits in his face! There’s a reason he pays you.” 

“He’s not a perv! He’s still a guy of course, but he’s sweet.” You felt a twinge of embarrassment at how quick you were to defend him. 

“All that matters about this guy is that he gives you nearly a thousand dollars every night he sees you, right?” You nodded. “You don’t want him thinking he doesn’t have to pay you anymore do you?”

You stayed quiet, because you knew she was right. This was the nature of your relationship with Baekhyun, and straying from what you had with him now just meant opening yourself up to the possibility of losing a lot of money, money you needed.

You were kind of surprised by how opposite you and Mia seemed to be in this situation. Usually it was you talking to her about boys, telling her not to make reckless decisions.

“Yeah you’re right. I’m gonna go to bed. I have classes starting pretty early tomorrow.” You told her as you left her room for yours.

You needed to sleep, but your conversation with her left you with the same uneasy feeling you’d had after last seeing Baekhyun. The longer you stared at your ceiling, the more you felt like you did the right thing telling him your name. He really liked you and it probably made his day, and you knew he wouldn’t use it against you in any way. He was too nice for that.  What’s the worst that could happen, right?

~

The first few classes of the day had gone okay. Your physics and statics professors didn’t seem like complete assholes, and you only had one class left for the day, philosophy. Part of you was annoyed you even needed to take the class, since you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a very “deep” person, but you figured it would be easy enough.

Being the good student you are, you decided to get there early to get a seat close to the front to make a good impression on the professor. When you arrived the previous class hadn’t finished yet, so you sat down on a bench nearby and opened a book.

“Hey, are you waiting for philosophy class too?”

You looked up to see a rather cute boy, books in hand, looking down at you with a smile on his face.

“Yeah, do I know you?”

“I’m Lucas.” He sticks his hand out for you to shake, so you do and he sits down next to you. “Are you a philosophy major?”

“No, architecture. And I’m y/n.”

“Damn you must be really smart then! I’m a business major.”

“You also just have to take this for the humanities credit?”

“Yeah, but I’m excited, the professor seems cool I met him earlier today.”

“Really? What’s he like?”

“Super cool and smart, kind of young, but like a genius.”

“Yeah well hopefully he’s nice too. Especially with grading”

Lucas laughed and you noticed the previous class leaving the lecture hall so you got up and made your way in, sitting down in the second row, Lucas sitting down next to you. The professor hadn’t showed up yet so you turned to Lucas again, making small talk to pass the time. As you talked to him you realized he was actually fairly funny, although not the smartest. You had to admit though, he was pretty damn handsome. He had to be an entire foot taller than you, with beautifully tanned skin and a smile that would make any girl weak in the knees. 

“Are you going to any parties this weekend? I’m going to one at my buddies frat Friday night if you wanna be my date.”

You frowned “Sorry, I don’t really do parties.”

You could see the disappointment on his face. “Damn really? Well if ever change your mind you can text me.” He said as he scribbled something down and slid a piece of paper with his number on it across the table to you.

You internally cringed, but took the paper anyway and give him a small thank you. You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t do parties, but you still felt bad shooting him down, especially since he was actually pretty cute. That was the problem with you and dating in college. No matter how cute a guy was, what they wanted and what you wanted rarely added up well.

You’d bought your textbook already so you decide to get back to looking through it before class started. You also just wanted an excuse to stop talking to Lucas. You got lost in the book, finding yourself surprisingly interested in different moral theories and types of ethical arguments.

“Ahem.”

You heard who you assumed to be your professor and looked up, not expecting to see Baekhyun of all people smirking back at you. Fucking smirking.

You almost choked on air when you realized who you were looking at. Not only was it Baekhyun of all people standing in front of you, but he was wearing a fitted white button down and slacks with his hair styled out of his face, and glasses abandoned on his podium. He looked hot. You felt your face getting warmer and warmer.

“Hey you ok?” Lucas asked, having seen your reaction to Professor Byun.

“What? Yeah I’m totally fine why wouldn’t I be?” You responded, too loudly. Loudly enough that Baekhyun noticed. And laughed.

“Do you guys know each other or something?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You told him while giving Baekhyun your best version of a death stare, but he didn’t seem to care.

“Hello everyone I’m Mr. Byun, I’ll be your philosophies of life professor.” He said, starting the lecture with a fairly neutral look on his face, although you noticed him looking in your direction often, and smiling.

You had to admit, he was smart. Not that you were particularly surprised, he seemed fairly intelligent from the conversations you’d had with him at work, but granted those weren’t always the most intellectual conversations either. The way he explained what you had read in the book was both interesting and informative, but you couldn’t focus on him talk about Socrates when just two days earlier you had been grinding on him, and had even let him touch you. Especially when he looked like that now. Your whole body felt hot and you knew you were probably as red as a tomato. 

You tried your best to focus on what he was saying for the sake of your grade, but he wasn’t making it easier by the way he kept looking in your direction with that smile on his face. Now, often looking you directly in the eyes with the same intensity from the club. Only this time, while sounding incredibly, frustratingly, smart.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t focus. Not when you had to process the fact that Baekhyun was now your college professor, and knew way more about you and your life than you ever wanted him to. You were hit with the realization that he now also knew you’d lied to him about nearly everything.

You became painfully aware of how you looked compared to him. While he looked exquisite in his business-casual attire, you had barely rolled out of bed in time to throw your hair up in a messy top knot and apply some mascara. Your hoodie and leggings combo wasn’t your best either, and you started feeling more and more embarrassed by the second.

Every other time Baekhyun had seen you, you had been dressed in expensive lingerie with your hair and makeup done perfectly. You had always been the one in control of the situation. Now, you only felt small and underdressed.

After what felt like hours he finally ended the lecture. But he wasn’t done yet, not with you at least. And you could tell by the way he was staring at you, smile now gone and replaced with a much more serious  expression. As soon as he dismissed everyone to leave, you frantically started shoving your things in your bag, trying to get out of the room as quickly as possible but your hands were shaking so badly that you ended up fumbling and dropping most of what you’d been holding.

“Shit, shit, shit” you whispered to yourself as you desperately reached for your belongings, feeling Baekhyun’s eyes on you, but it was too late and right after you saw the last student leave the lecture hall, you heard your name.

“Y/n come here.”

Not really having the option to say no, you walked up to him, trying to look as annoyed as possible.

“You look cute like this, without the heels and everything. I like it.” He said, now smiling down at you. Despite the mocking feeling of the statement, his face was soft now, the smug smirk from earlier gone.

Baekhyun was absolutely thrilled. The girl he usually looked forward to seeing all week long was right in front of him now, within reach. And he’d get to you see you much more now as well. He had to keep himself from looking too happy since he knew you weren’t in nearly as good a mood as him.  

You’d never wanted to disappear as badly as you did in that moment. Here, Baekhyun was the one with all the power, and you despised it. He was the one all dressed up and making all the rules. You felt small and embarrassed, having little choice but to listen to whatever it is was he had to say to you. You hated the feeling.

“What do you want?”

“You lied to me.” His face didn’t look angry at all, just blank, void of any emotion.

“Why are you making me do this can I please just leave?” You asked, hoping he’d have some sympathy but you have no such luck.

No answer

“Baekhyun, please. Just let me go home and switch into a different section.” You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting this nightmare to be over.

His face hardened, now slightly annoyed.

“Professor Byun, and I’m afraid you’re stuck with me y/n. I’m the only one teaching this class this semester.”

“Well, fuck” You muttered, looking down at the floor. 

“Is that how you speak to your professors?” 

Your head snapped back up, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“You know, y/n, I’m not mad that you lied to me. I should’ve assumed as much. After you told me your name and I saw it on the attendance sheet I had been hoping you’d been lying.” He still looked annoyed, but his face had softened a bit. 

“Oh fuck off Baekhyun”

Immediately his expression went sour again, jaw clenched and brown furrowed.

“Here it’s Mr. Byun. And don’t use that language with me again, I’m serious.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean? I didn’t know you’d be here. It was just yesterday that I even realized your name was on my roll sheet.” 

He had a point. He couldn’t have planned this, you’d signed up for the class months ago and he didn’t even know your name until two nights ago.

“Why aren’t you freaking out then? Shouldn’t you be worried about having me in your class?”

He only let out a chuckle.

“Why would I be worried? As far as I’m concerned this only means I get to see you more often, which I’m fine with. And you need to pass this class to graduate on time, so shouldn’t you be glad you’re already friends with your professor?”

You knew it wasn’t what he intended, but the smile on his face felt like it was mocking you.

“Yeah. Friends.” You scoffed. “Can I go home now?”

“So this is your last class of the day?”

You internally cursed yourself for giving up that bit of information.

“Yeah. Now can I leave?”

“Well you’re not in a hurry are you? Since you don’t have anywhere to be after this.”

“Baekhyuuun” you whined “please, this sucks, just let me go home.”

He smiled, seemingly amused by you begging him.

“Okay. I’m not gonna make you stay any longer since you obviously don’t want to. But let me make it clear, I’m not gonna go easy on you here just because I like you. You still have to try.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” You reply, picking your bag up to leave, wondering what exactly he meant by like you. 

“I’m really looking forward to reading your essays by the way.”

He flashed you a smile as you finally turned to leave, and you hated yourself for not doing a better job at looking mad. As much as you hated to admit it, he had a damn beautiful smile.

“See you on Wednesday!” He shouted after you as you left the room. You didn’t respond.

When you arrived back at your apartment your mind started to fill with panicked thoughts. He wouldn’t come to the club anymore now would he? That meant having to try to mingle with strangers again, something you hated about your work. It also meant less money. It’s not often that customers bought hour long dances.

And what if he did show up again? How would you even act around him? Part of you wanted him to for the easy money, but you just couldn’t imagine grinding on your professor. Your face heated up just at the thought, especially since you knew he could look that good now. Would you even be able to give him a lap dance without losing your own mind?

You had trouble processing the fact that this was even able to happen. You’d  never thought to ask Baekhyun for his last name, and since it had been summer break he didn’t mention his job. The whole situation seemed bizarre. 

And what about class? Will he make it more difficult if he doesn’t get what he wants? 

No. Baekhyun isn’t like that, you tell yourself. As much as you disliked having him in a position of power over you, you’d gotten to know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t abuse it.

The more you’d gotten to know him the more you liked spending time with him rather than other customers, regardless of the money. And for good reason. The longer you knew Baekhyun, the more you realized he wasn’t like the other guys who came to the club. You could tell he was good, decent guy.

He was always there to see you, and only you. You had several other regulars, but none of them had any qualms about talking to and getting dances from other girls. Not that you minded, but you’d never seen Baekhyun even speak to another dancer.

He’s also just nice. The kind of nice that you don’t see in people often anymore. He was always incredibly respectful and would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with. Very few of the guys you came in contact with cared at all if they made you uncomfortable. They’d just assume that’s a part of the job for you.

Baekhyun was actually interesting to talk to as well. Since you’d met him at the beginning of summer, he usually told you about adventures he went on with his friends, most of whom you knew from the night they’d dragged him into the club.

They were a genuinely cool group of people. The one he was closest with, Chanyeol, was a music producer, another named Kyungsoo was an up and coming actor, and the one who’d introduced himself as Jongin was a professional dancer. Chanyeol had been the one to come with the idea of taking Baekhyun to the club in the first place. 

Baekhyun would tell you anecdotes from nights out he’d had with them during college, as well as other wild stories and you’d often find yourself laughing and smiling so hard your face hurt. Ever since your first night with him, you noticed how good he was at making the people around him feel at ease. He always knew what to say and when to make people laugh. 

Baekhyun was different from the other men at work because you liked being around him. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive either. If you’d met him anywhere else, and he wasn’t your professor, you’d probably be more than willing to go on a date with him. 

But unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

You tore yourself out of your thoughts and realized how late it had gotten. Although it was only the first day, you already had homework you needed to start on. You spent the rest of the evening trying to be productive, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Baekhyun. How good he had looked, how attractive he sounded giving the lecture, how he wouldn’t stop looking at you. 

He was going to be much more present in your life now, whether you liked it or not.

                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday morning Baekhyun felt stupid for how excited he was to see you. He’d decided to get up early to work some exercise into his day, and hopefully clear his mind, but even as he took a shower and started getting ready to leave for work, he couldn’t get you out of his head. He’d decided to wear something a bit more casual and stylish, opting for a new pair of glasses, striped red t shirt, and cream slacks. He tried to make other excuses for why he wanted to look nice but in the back of his mind, he knew he wore it because he wanted to look good in front of you.

During the class before yours he noticed a female student in the first row chewing on the back of her pencil as she very intentionally leaned over her desk to grab a pen, putting her cleavage on display to him.

He only rolled his eyes, but he was pleased to see that his outfit was getting good reactions. He just hoped you’d like it.

When the class before yours left, Baekhyun felt his heart rate go up. What if you’d found a way to get out of his class? Would you even show up? Or if you did, would you just end up sitting as far from him as possible?

Usually he’d leave to go get a coffee during his break between giving lectures, but today he stayed in case you came early again. As the minutes went by students started to fill the lecture hall. Baekhyun couldn’t help but keep his eyes fixed on the door every time he heard it open, but he just kept seeing everyone but you. 

A minute before class started, you walked in and sat down in the second to last row.

Baekhyun felt his face light up as soon as saw you, only to immediately turn into a frown when he saw where you chose to sit down. It was as he’d suspected, you wanted to be as far away from his as possible. But at least you were there.

As Baekhyun started the lecture, he couldn’t help looking in your direction every few seconds. Even though you were in casual clothes without any fancy hairstyle or makeup, this was the version of you Baekhyun loved seeing the most. He was used to the perfected product you presented yourself as at your job, and he knew that wasn’t the real you. This was. You in leggings and a t shirt, your hair messily falling over your shoulders as you scribbled down notes. He could watch you like this all day. He noticed how your brows would furrow in confusion whenever he’d bring up a new concept, and how you chewed on your bottom lip when you were concentrating. Ever since he’d seen you like this on Monday, he couldn’t get enough. It was you, the real you.

He also noticed how you seemed to look everywhere in the room except for at him. You spent as much time as possible with your head down taking notes, even when there wasn’t much to write down. Other times your eyes would stay glued to the power point slides, or wander around the walls and ceilings. He understood why you weren’t exactly comfortable looking at him.

Despite being on the other side of the room, he was still able to pick up on little things. He noticed your leg bouncing, fingers tapping on the desk, and how much you would fidget when you weren’t writing notes.

He knew you were uncomfortable, and he hated it. He hated himself for being the reason. He wished there was something he could do or say that would make you enjoy being in his class more. Anything that would make you feel more at ease with him in this situation. If he wasn’t the only one teaching the class he wouldn’t have minded if you’d switched to a different professor, if it meant you were more comfortable. Of course he would’ve missed seeing you, but he also knew that was a selfish thought. He felt guilty that you had to be there and be uncomfortable because of him.

At the end of the lecture he gave the class their first proper assignment, a short essay analyzing Plato's “The Ring of Gyges”. It was an assignment he always gave at the very beginning of the semester, since it was a quite difficult read and gave him a good idea of how everyone would do in the class.

He was especially excited to see how you would do.

When class ended, you were the first one to leave and this time he didn’t stop you. He knew you wanted to leave and didn’t want to bother you again, still feeling slightly sorry for how late he’d kept you the first day. He’d only done it to try to reassure you about having him as your professor, but he hadn’t been expecting you to be as distressed about it as you were. In hindsight he realized he’d probably only made things more stressful for you.

Once the room was empty aside from him he packed up his things and left as well, hoping that you could become less anxious over time, and eventually, maybe even enjoy being in his class.

For now though, class had not been something for you to look forward to at all. You’d been dreading it ever since Monday afternoon.

That morning as you were getting ready, you tried to make yourself look a bit more presentable than you’d looked Monday, not wanting to live through the embarrassment of seeing Baekhyun look so nice while you were basically wearing pajamas again.

For the first half of your day you threw yourself into your other class work, successfully taking him off your mind for a while, but when your physics class ended and your next class was with him you felt yourself starting to panic.

You thought about skipping class, but you cared too much about your grade. You decided your best choice was to just get there as late as possible and sit as close to the door as you could so he wouldn’t be able to get you to stay after class again.

As you walked across campus you felt yourself get more and more nervous. Despite being there 20 minutes early and the room being open to sit down in, you sat down outside. As the minutes drew closer to class starting you felt your heart start to race and had trouble controlling your breathing. One minute before class was to start you got up, walked over to the door, and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down a bit. You pushed open the door with shaky hands, and the second you could see into the room you notice Baekhyun's eyes on you, and his beautiful smile. You quickly looked down and hurried to the closest available seat in the back of the room, cringing at yourself.

As much as you wished you could, you couldn’t just ignore Baekhyun. He was the professor, you had to listen to him. But you had a hard time doing anything when he looked like he did. His shirt showed off his broad shoulders and he was wearing different glasses now too. He looked even better than he had on Monday. Had it not been for you already knowing him, you probably would’ve found him distracting for different reasons. You did everything you could not to look at him directly, knowing he’d catch you and see you blush. But who wouldn’t blush if he was staring at them while looking like that? You could tell some of the other girls in the class liked his outfit as well by the way they whispered to each other while shooting glances his way.

You wondered if maybe this was something he did often, if he liked starting things with students. If maybe his whole nice guy persona was fake and he really was just another scumbag.

But you soon realized that was just the bitterness speaking. You wouldn’t admit it to yourself but the thought of other girls trying to seduce him was bothering you. Baekhyun wasn’t a scumbag, not when he’d dedicated his life to teaching people about ethical issues and moral arguments.

As the class went on you couldn’t help but fidget and shift around in your seat. Even though you were avoiding looking at him, you knew his eyes were on you for much of the lecture. You’d figured it would be like this.

As it got closer and closer to the end of class you felt yourself get more and more panicked at the thought of him keeping you after again. You didn’t know what he could possibly keep you after for, but you didn’t want to stick around and find out, so as soon as he dismissed the class you nearly ran out without looking back.

“Hey, y/n!”

The sound of your name nearly gave you a heart attack, thinking it was Baekhyun who was going to force you to talk to him like this again but when you saw Lucas waving at you, you let out a relieved sigh.

“Hi Lucas.”

“I thought you’d come sit by me again today what happened?” He asked.

“Sorry about that, I was almost late today so I didn’t want to walk out there in front of the whole class” you said, hoping he wouldn’t see through your lie.

“Well I hope next time you’ll sit with me again.”

You managed to give him a small smile and nod, still a bit too frazzled over everything to want to talk to him.

“I have to get home, but I’ll se you Friday. Bye Lucas.” You waved at him as you went in the opposite direction.

You felt bad for not talking to him any longer, but you just weren’t in the right headspace.

On your walk home you felt weird. Had it really been that bad? Or were you just overreacting? Although he did look at you a lot Baekhyun seemed to teach the class as if everything was normal, more or less unaffected by your presence. He hadn’t seemed to mind your leaving either. Maybe he’d hadn’t planned to make you stay again. Maybe, it seemed, he was going to leave you be.

You knew Lucas would bother you about it if you didn’t sit with him again next time, but would you be okay to sit that close to the front again? Or even worse what if Lucas caught on that there was something going on between you and Baekhyun? He’d already seemed suspicious on the first day.

You decided your best course of action was to just do it and tough it out. All you needed to do was act like you did in all your other classes and everything would be fine right?

First however, you had to go home and face your roommate and tell her about this nightmare, having bottled it up until now. You weren’t exactly sure why you hadn’t told her right away. Maybe you felt strange about it since she had already told you you needed to keep him from getting any closer to you. Obviously that wasn’t going to be easy now.

As soon as you got home and put your things away you knocked on her door.

“YEAH?” You heard her yell through the door.

“Can I come in?”

“One second!”

A little while later the door opened.

“What’s up?”

“Can we have a girls night? I have some shit I need to tell you.”

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Mia look so excited.

“You?? Have tea for ME??? Fuck yes!”

You thought about it, and this was pretty rare. 90% of the time she was the one unloading her boy problems on you, or any other kind of drama too for that matter. Not that you minded, that was just the dynamic you had gotten used to.

“Wanna order some food and put on a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.”

Your food eventually arrived and you put on a chick flick you’ve both seen a thousand times.

“So?? Are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?” She asked turning to you, obviously looking forward to whatever you were about to fill her in on.

You sighed.

“So my philosophy professor this semester...” You swallowed, now having trouble getting yourself to say it.

“I know this sounds fucking insane but, Baekhyun’s my philosophy professor.”

The look on her face told you everything you need to know. The two of you had known each other for so long that words weren’t needed.

“I don’t know how it happened either. I signed up for the class forever ago anyway, before I even met him at the club. Just a bizarre coincidence. And he’s the only one teaching it and I need the credit to graduate so I'm stuck.”

“Shit dude.”

“Yeah I know. He kept me after class Monday and it was a fucking nightmare.”

“What did he say?”

“Basically just that I’m stuck with him. He also called me out for lying about what university I go to at work. And he said he liked me better ‘like this’ whatever the hell that means”

“He’s like obsessed with you isn’t he? He’s probably over the moon that he has a way into your personal life now which really fucking sucks for you.” She had a point. “Do you think he’ll still come see you at work?”

“I honestly really don’t wanna think about that right now.”

“Be careful, y/n. A customer having a crush on you is one thing but having him in charge of your grade is another. What if he starts trying to make moves on you and you shoot him down? He could fuck up your GPA just to get back at you or something.”

“No.” You responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. “No, Baekhyun isn’t like that. He’s not a bad guy, and I don’t think he’ll try anything anyway.”

“Really?”

“I’m not sure of course but he’s also a lot older than us and this is his job, I can’t see him risking his livelihood just for me.”

“He’s a college professor who’s giving you a thousand dollars a week, how does he even have that kind of money anyway? No way he gets paid enough as a professor to be giving you that much. He either has some other source of income or you’re already making him broke.”

You felt stupid for not having considered that yet. How the hell was he giving you so much? She was right, unless he was secretly rich or something there was no way he could afford to give you so much money every week without fucking himself over. Your stomach started to churn with the idea of him possibly even putting himself in debt just for your Saturday nights together. He couldn’t be that stupid right?

She could tell how much the conversation was stressing you out at that point.

“Listen,” she said, grabbing your hand “you just need to get through the semester. You can handle 16 weeks, class with him will get less awkward, and hopefully he’s at least smart enough not to come see you at work anymore now.”

The thought of him not coming anymore wasn’t a good one either though. You made much more money when he was there, and in under 2 hours. Staying at the club until 3am with school going on now, only to take home less money wasn’t really a good option either.

“I don’t wanna see him there but I need his money.”

“You’ll find some other guy who’s rich and in love with you soon enough, don’t worry, it’ll all be fine.” She said, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah..”

You knew she was just trying to make you feel better, but realistically you weren’t going to find another guy like Baekhyun at work, Even if someone came along who gave you as much money as he did, they wouldn’t be as fun to talk to, or as respectful as him. Guys like that just don’t come to strip clubs. You still didn’t even fully understand why he did.

“Just think of him as another one of your professors. It might be tough at first, but I think if you can do that you’ll be okay.” 

“You’re right, I just need to get my shit together and not let him distract me.” 

“See? Of course I’m right.” She grinned, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

Eventually the movie ended, and by then it was late enough for the two of you to get ready for bed.

Talking to your best friend about it had made you feel slightly better. At least whatever happened, she would be there for you to talk it out with. Baekhyun wasn’t a bad person or anything either, it was just the situation that was stressing you out. As long as you could get ahold of yourself enough to focus on his lectures and do well in the class, you’d be fine. 

You kept reassuring yourself as you closed your eyes, and for the first night that week you didn’t stare at your ceiling for hours worrying, you went right to sleep.

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