#but I was also the person who hated attending lectures

[ineloquent-tumbling]

I am having one of those moments where I realize that, yes, I am actually much quicker at learning new skills and much better at extrapolating procedural information from finished examples than average.

[fingertipsmp3]

That ‘is this UK uni accommodation or a Swedish prison’ game is so funny but also so depressing

[satoruhour]

LEGIT JUST DASHED HERE FKJAKJLASDFKJL

TA! Nanami won't leave my brain so pleaseeee 🥺just him assisting you with lab reports by eating you out

❄️

(ANYTHING BUT) LAB HELP

a/n: icy you got me thinkin about my own TA and the failures in which i am too scared to cop him 😭😭😭 / this was purely fuelled by my own carnal need for nanami after last week’s episode because WHEEEEEWWW !

wc: 5.5k

warnings: fem!reader, TA!nanami, reader is a big simp for nanami but vice versa too, reader has long hair in this, slight age gap? since nanami is a TA (27 / 22), m! masturbation, fantasising, semi-public masturbation, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, little praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

the first time your TA walked in, your jaw drops. with a face and body like that, he should rightfully be in the modelling industry, not teaching you about dissecting and suturing mice and looking at atoms under a microscope.

all you know is that nanami kento was just like every teaching assistant — attending lectures just like the rest of the students, taking down notes for his tutorial and lab sessions, answering curious emails from everyone — but every interaction you had with this man was anything but normal, or at least that’s what you felt.

you’ve never viewed someone in such a deranged and filthy way before: pulling on his blonde hair and taking off that hideous cheetah print tie and telling him to his face that wearing a full suit while teaching makes him insanely older than he actually is; and also maybe after that, to push him right down to your cunt where he’d eat you out like you deserve.

“i just don’t get why he needs to use a suit at twenty seven years old just to teach — you’re doing your masters, like calm down a little.” you mumble more to yourself than your friend, but she likes every juicy detail you have about this attractive TA you keep talking about even if you sound like you hate him with how much you talk about the damn suit all the time.

but your friend only knows that if you could get his trousers, suit jacket, tie and shirt off of him, you would in a blink of an eye.

“maybe he wants to impress.”

your mouth twists, “who? only person he should be impressing is me.”

it’s all in good fun, with the way you’re talking — in reality, you don’t know what you’d do if the opportunity really presented itself to you. gossip, your legacy (or shame) carried by mouth, expulsion from the university, there were countless of unfortunate things if you do decide to go for the teaching assistant meant purely to help students in better understanding the material.

but it wasn’t one-sided. all those glances you thought nanami was sending you weren’t imagined, nor was it because you thought he was squinting due to bad eyesight. he remembers your name from the first tutorial he taught you, caught you lingering around the lecture hall, helps you a little too much during lab sessions and every time, he’s inexplicably drawn to you and your aura.

“good afternoon, ladies,” the familiar deep and collected voice snaps you out of the conversation, heart beating a hundred miles. you were in no way prepared for this, but you’re grateful for even one meeting out of class. your friend is insufferable though — from your peripheral you can see her giving the two of you a sick grin, “any chance i could ask for directions to this particular room?”

that was another thing; nanami wasn’t from this university. having completed his degree in another, he took his masters in the one you’re attending, wanting a breath of fresh air from the four years of his time in kyoto. that’s what you remember from his introduction, amongst many other things: he liked neutral colours, he’s interested in the philosophy of aesthetics, and he loved bread.

“babe, i’m going to head off for a class,” lies. she had no classes today at all, “see you tomorrow!” she bows briefly to nanami who only shoots her a tender smile and you turn to the side to bite your fist. you’ve become good at containing your reactions, though.

“oh! nanami-san, of course. headed there for a class?”

what kind of stupid question is that? of course he w—

“i’m heading there for a seminar, actually, starts in about,” he checks his watch, “10 minutes. the uni invited an external professor to give a talk that merges both the philosophical aspects of questioning life alongside the functions of the body, sparking thoughts of science and philosophy. thought it’d be interesting.”

you swallow and you swear you can feel your core pulsing. hot, intelligent and always pushing the boundaries and capacity of learning? you could only thank the gods that it was a cooler day, not being able to do anything if you actually do melt into a puddle.

“y-yeah! yeah, i know where it is.” you don’t, but the rooms are usually lined up pretty nicely, and you know you would be able to guide him successfully without much trouble; but when you’re checking the seminar room, you realise that they may have changed venues.

“crap . . five minutes. nanami-san, do you think maybe they sent a follow-up email with the change in location?” you’re more on edge than nanami is because you usually don’t like to be late for anything, recalling the jumble of numbers and letters he showed you earlier and lining them with the label plates outside the room.

“uh— oh, shit. yeah, i might’ve shown you the wrong email.” your jaw drops when you see the new venue.

“that’s . . on the other side of campus, nanami-san.”

“how long will it take?”

you wince at the disappointment on his face, “if you take the campus bus, at least fifteen minutes.”

nanami’s understandably mad at himself for his own mistake, knowing he’d miss a good chunk of the talk whilst travelling there, but he’s distracted from his self-loathing — taken aback at the quickness in which you offer to drive him.

“uh . . it’s probably maybe eight minutes there by car. my car’s parked close by if you want a lift—”

and nanami thinks it’s simultaneously the perfect and terrible day to send his car to the mechanics and settle for public transport. perfect because he might accept your offer to be close to you, terrible because he would much rather you sit in the passenger sit of his car rather than the other way around.

nanami forgets to be modest in your presence, so he accepts it without a second beat and follows you in a jog to the parking lot. there are scattered vehicles, possibly belonging to professors and maybe students, and the both of you come to an everyday looking corolla.

“okay! unlocked. i’ll try to speed and get you there in four minutes.” nanami can only manage a soft thank you, touched by your generosity and even more drawn by the determination in your face. with a turn of the ignition key, the man clutches onto the seatbelt as you lurch forward with the acceleration, and then you’re taking off.

you’re not the best driver, driving past yellow lights and terrible at changing lanes, but you get the job done. coming to rest in front of the humanities block, you’re arriving with the seminar starting just two minutes ago, and nanami looks at you like you just moved the moon and stars for him.

“thank you, (y/n)-san, truly,” he’s out of breath, maybe a little shaken up from the drive but it’s nothing he isn’t used to (gojo sucks too), “how can i repay you?”

you shake your hand, “a-ah, no it’s nothing. it was just an eight minute drive compressed into four.”

“no, really, let me pay back the favour.”

you bit your lip — you can’t possibly say the thing that’s on your mind. he would report you, you would have to be kicked out, your future crumbling before your eyes — you go for the tamer request.

“lunch, one day, then.”

nanami smiles at you and you feel like it’s cupid shooting his shot straight into your heart. you hardly see the man, smile, ever, so to have a genuine one directed at you made you squeeze your thighs together. there’s hope bubbling in nanami’s heart when he sees the effect of his smile: a glint in your eye and the quickened breaths, he may have thought your thighs move, too, but he didn’t have the balls to glance down to the one place he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“how ’bout right after the seminar?” fuck. you’re grinning now and you see a little of nanami’s teeth in an amused smile.

“sure, nanami-san,” adrenaline sends you reeling, eyes boring so tirelessly into his that you wish he’d understand all the things you want him to do to you. he peeks a quick glimpse of your lips as they lick it before unbuckling his seatbelt, popping open the passenger door to head out. your hand instinctively goes up to stop him, “or should i say . . passenger princess.”

that prompts a full grin out of your TA, who lets out an attractive chuckle before leaving from your car, “sure, whatever you want to call me.”

you’re driving away happily, kicking your feet once you’re parked in another car park and giggling to yourself. unbeknownst to you of the small little thing nanami says after, “although i’d like it if you call me yours.”

the spiral starts from there. it was approximately two hours — you have two hours of going back to the dorms to choose something you knew you looked good in while continuing to text your friend in excitement. it was chaos between the hours of eleven to one pm, rummaging through your closet to find something suitable. you went through many rounds of outfits and with each photo to your friend you were losing hope.

“‘let’s just stick with the first’?” you scoff loudly after reading out her feedback, typing out a reply to your friend. it sounded a little agitated but you can’t help but heart the message wishing you a good luck.

before you know it, you’re hearing a knock on the window, greeted with the very nice sight of his suit jacket now removed and his blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves. it’s like he’s heard your thoughts too because even his ugly tie is bundled up in his hand.

“the AC wasn’t working.” he simply explains, once he’s in the car and he appreciates your gesture of turning yours to the max. you let your eyes rake over his figure, the pull of his shirt that looks too tight for him and the lines of his forearms, before he finally gets settled in and begs your eye contact.

“bummer,” you click your tongue, “but well, any places you have in mind?”

you start the car, pulling out of the lobby and nanami playfully hums, “not going to listen to your passenger princess’ struggles? do you hate women perhaps?”

“nah, i’m a toxic man who doesn’t care about his girl’s life.” that draws a laugh out of nanami, who sinks more into the seat. he’s more relaxed here than in class, than in lectures and it’s a nice sight to behold.

he echoes your sentiment with a small smile, “bummer.”

you both settle on an eatery pretty easily, with nanami keeping his promise of paying for your lunch (you made sure to pay back just a little with some bread, though, because how does a simple car lift equate to a whole lunch?). he was everything you thought him out to be: insanely insightful and smart; on a more physical level, jacked with such a pretty voice to the point you let him ramble about the seminar. it was the most animated you’ve seen him act.

since then, he’s become more open to accepting food items and hangouts with his students, although they never really hit like the first lunch he’s had with you. it was detrimental to his teaching, really, even now where he glares at your lab partner who you’re laughing with. it makes his stomach turn with jealousy, even as you exchange nudges while completing your worksheets.

he figures he can’t do anything but wait for you to initiate, mind muddled with thoughts of you and the possibility you were just being a nice person from what you did before, until you’re interrupting him from his rage-fuelled cleaning of the lab with a tap to his shoulder.

“nanami-san?” the students have filed out by now, a shell of what used to be a lab full of students groaning at the innards of the rats they were cutting open and the whispers of confusion at how to sew them back up.

“what is it?” he turns around too fast, almost knowing over a beaker by accident and when his hand goes over to catch it, you stabilise it as well. your hand encases his, the both of you resisting the urge to smile while you try to remember the question you so desperately tried to think of; anything to just talk to him.

“this is about um . . last week’s experiment about gas chromatography.”

“yeah?” nanami leans against the table, arms crossed and all and suddenly looking too buff that you feel a little lightheaded. his eyes skim over your body, a tight fitting shirt that accentuates your tits whilst you have some yoga pants on and if he bent you over, he’s confident he can see your pussy lips from behind the fabric. he knows it’s because you had a yoga class this morning, because he’s too invested in your life and you willingly give him what he wants.

“if the two mixtures contained the same alcohols but filled up to different amounts, do you know a method via the gas chromatogram to distinguish between the two mixtures?”

“uhm—”

nanami looks collected but he is sweating, approached at such a random time that he doesn’t have time to prepare except stutter through his answer. you don’t notice how you’ve been stepping closer and closer to him, either, until you’re an inch from one another.

“oh! alright, that makes sense.”

“anything else?” your TA looks down at you, hands just itching to bring you in. the lab is so quiet, now, save for the shuffling feet of the students outside but thankfully the windows are opaque. you could probably hear a pin drop if it wasn’t for your hearts pounding so loudly in your chests. your finger twitches with your incomplete lab report.

“right— well, yes, i was asking if you c—”

“babe!” the lab door slides open at the same time your friend calls out to you and you cough in embarrassment. nanami only clears his throat as the two of you step away and your cheeks burn, and he has to loosen the tie around his neck just for a bit.

“you told me to wait for you outside, right? well you were taking too long and . .” the other only continues his ‘task’ of cleaning up, looking anywhere but your direction as she continues to ramble, but he doesn’t miss the look of recognition on your friend’s face.

she mouths to you— i’m so sorry for interrupting, before she has half a mind to say something out loud and you’re clasping your hand over her mouth and ushering her outside hurriedly.

“shush— okay, thanks mr. nanami-san!”

he only waves a hand in farewell, but as soon as the door closes he collapses onto the seat. with head in hands, his mind wanders to the proximity in which the two of you were engaged in and the very, very uncomfortable boner in his pants. he’s so big that everyone can probably see it, frozen in place as he gets a sick idea.

“yeah, i told you to wait for me but not to barge in like that— oh my god! you should go on the records for having the worst timing ever.” you aren’t entirely disappointed, but it did seem like a good opportunity. you’re partly glad, too, because your mind now feeds you countless scenarios of nanami’s expressions turning into disgust and shock.

“dang, i’m sorry, but we do have to get going if we want to make it in time for that cafe event.”

your mouth twists, “yeah, i guess so.”

“if it makes you feel better, maybe he’ll want you more after this interruption.” she winks and you shove her playfully.

“now, you’re just trying to justify your bad timing!”

in that short time, you’re unaware that nanami has unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard-on through the hole of his boxers, insanely hard and body burning with regret. “lord, forgive me.”

he imagines you propped up on the (clean) lab tables, feet on his shoulders as he eats you out from below, or even hitting it from the back as he “helps” you with your lab report in the dorm, knowing damn well you won’t get anything done, or maybe even your mouth full of his throbbing cock sucking him off as he teaches.

nanami strokes his length in the empty lab room, knowing there wasn’t any classes any time soon from how often he’s looked at the timetables. there, he simply pumps himself under the table, biting at his shirt sleeves to muffle his grunts that he drools. it drops to the table, but he’s caring not one bit, because the feel of his hands just feel too good against him and the images of you only get lewder and lewder.

“s-shit . .” nanami swears quietly, hoping the slickness of his pre-cum doesn’t give him away, squeezing and moving his hands faster along his cock. his tip’s so sensitive — what would your mouth or pussy feel like? would you have let him rip your tights and fuck you silly just now? his hips are bucking into his hands, now, thinking of turning your sweet, sweet smile into something of pure sex, and before he knows it, he’s shooting his load onto the floor with a loud groan, thumbing his tip shakily. nanami’s breaths are ragged, guilt burning him alive while he washes his hand at the sink beside the tables and crouches to the floor, cleaning up after himself — nanami definitely wouldn’t be able to face you after this.

he was right. his mind was flooded with you in obscene positions and your saccharine voice twisted into moans and whines, he wonders if you taste as good as the pineapple juice he had the other day. even in tutorials, the students were wondering why the AC was turned up so high, because one glance from you made him hot and bothered. he liked to book it straight out of class, too, directing all questions to his email which he highlights very clearly in his slides, muttering something about being on a tight deadline with his thesis for his masters, but it’s never that serious — he’s usually heading back to quell the uncomfortable boner in his pants.

“prof? nanami-san?” you knew you’d find him in here in the professor’s office, probably going over lesson plans. your professor only shoots you a friendly greeting as nanami turns in his chair, he’s always happy to see his students while nanami swallows when you’re back in your yoga getup. it’s been a week, already?

“need anything, (y/n)?”

“oh, i need more of nanami-san, since it’s relating to my lab reports.” your professor usually conducted lab sessions, but nanami was the one to help with the reports, conveying the information of what to write and whatnot; well, it was also easier to talk someone who isn’t so intimidating and cool as your professor.

“kento, help me lock up after you’re done, alright?” your professor throws him the keys and you stifle a laugh at the way he stumbles out the door, “going home early to the wife, ahah . . guess i’m falling for her over again.”

that draws a laugh from both of you, bidding him goodbye with a smile on your faces before the mood turns tense again, and nanami looks up at you from his chair. you take him in: the manspread, the head tilt, the intentional (but you don’t know that) deep voice.

“yes, (y/n)?”

you gulp, remembering what your friend said — keep eye contact, slowly walk up to him, keep your voice nonchalant — it was easier said than done.

“cat got your tongue?”

you sputter and exclaim, “no— no i’m okay. i just wanted to ask about the alcohols used in the experiment last week.”

“ah, you’re still on that?”

his tone is laced with a slight disdain, possibly from how much he hates how you make him feel, coming in here to ask about your stupid lab report when he know you’re a bright student who hardly needs any help, coming in here like the two of you don’t want each other.

“y-yes, nanami-san.”

he stands and easily towers over you. from here, you can see his broad shoulders take up his shirt as he walks you back, buttons unbuttoned to reveal a bit of skin. you feel like prey being cornered, but nanami still has some sense of chivalry when he wraps an arm around your waist to prevent you from hitting the frosted glass door.

“mind telling me why your lab report from over two weeks ago is taking so long to be completed?”

reality seeps in for just a moment and his hand removes itself, hovering just over your body, “we still . . have a week to finish it up, nanami-san . .”

your TA takes a deep breath and you think that maybe that was the wrong answer, but all nanami does is step even closer to you and your hands have no choice but to rest on his toned chest. he can only hope no one can see your figure when you’re pressed flat against the frosted glass, but he knows this part of the uni is a little deserted this late in the afternoon.

“that’s not wrong . .” his voice is down to a whisper, closing his eyes for a moment when your hands travel over his chest. when he opens them again, they’re more than just the pretty, hazel ones you like to fantasise about, stained with a darker sort of lust that involves taking you, even if it meant doing it in the professor’s office. “but you’re always submitting it pretty early on, aren’t you? what changed, hm?”

you can feel his breath on your lips, wishing he would just take the first step because frankly, your pussy is throbbing and your body is already leaning into him even without his hand on your back. it feels natural like that.

“i got distracted.”

nanami’s breath moves from your lips to your neck, and you cheer in your head as he plants a gentle kiss there, but it’s not quite what you want. he hums into the crook of your neck, torturing you with wet kisses and sucking lightly.

“by what? your friend? or perhaps it’s some external commitment that’s taking up a lot of your time?” nanami already knows the answer but he enjoys the way you squirm. “what is it?”

by now, your hands are trailing up his body, wrapping around his neck and playing with his undercut. his skin is so soft and he smells so damn good, and he sighs at your hands.

“by someone, actually.” you bite the bullet, forcibly removing him from your neck which is definitely starting to show the obvious blue black on the skin there. his hands this whole time have been placed against the door behind you, but the carnal need is too prominent that he wraps that same arm around your middle. the other, on your nape; the sheer size of his hand makes you whine and nanami smiles at that.

“mind telling me who is it? maybe i could give them a good talk, tell them to stop tormenting my smart girl.”

that draws out a visceral reaction from you, melting into his arms at the simple praise. nanami helps you a little, leaning in with an expression as needy as yours.

“you’re gonna talk to yourself?” a laugh is the last thing you hear before he crashes his lips against yours, a hand smartly going to the door to flip the lock before he pulls you flush against him. you moan softly when you feel his hard-on, against your front, manhandled easy by nanami’s arms as he whips you around to walk you to your professor’s desk.

“do you think he’ll sue us?” nanami kisses down your neck with him between your legs, hands fondling every inch of your body while you grind up against his pelvis. with such thin material such as your yoga tights between you, it feels so damn good.

“at most he’ll remove me as TA . .” as he speaks, you can feel the vibrations along your skin, legs instinctively bringing him closer. he doesn’t let you, instead pulling away from your body and goes to his knees, seeing just how soaked you are. he thanks god you weren’t wearing black, because there’s a wet patch that leaks too much — it’s clear you didn’t bother to wear underwear at all. “but that is if he finds out about this, right?”

you smile, feet pushing at his back towards your dripping cunt and you moan softly when he licks at your pussy through the fabric.

“yeah— yeah i guess so,” you’re then expecting his hands to pull at your waistband and you lift your hips knowingly, but you hear a stark riiip! that echoes throughout the office and you gasp, too focused on his pretty face to notice he’s dug his fingers into the yoga tights to tear it at your centre. the action turns you on, entirely sure you felt your pussy flutter at the sheer strength that he had.

“i’ll buy you new ones, baby,” nanami presses a gentle kiss against your clit and you shiver at the contact, hot breath threatening your demise by his hand, “they’re of terrible quality, by the way.”

you huff, “yeah, you kinda ripped it, nanami-san. plus, what’s terrible — not in quality but in looks — is your tie.”

nanami chuckles, caressing your inner thighs with gentle fingers, blowing lightly on your cunt, “personal vendetta against cheetahs?”

that sends shivers along your whole body, “n-no, just don’t really like the look of it.”

nanami hums, “i’m wounded.”

“you’ll live.”

he only laughs again, “okay, enough talking. i’m starving.” and starving he was — he latches his mouth onto your clit like a vice, sucking and flicking his tongue relentlessly you have no choice but to cry out his name. “taste so fucking sweet,” the sudden swear catches you off-guard, paired with the rasped voice and your hips willingly hump his mouth, “pussy made for me.”

“don’t say shit like that . .” you whine, embarrassed at the filthiness of his words and yet you’re sat here on a desk, pushing your sex more and more into his lips. “it’s embarrassin’.”

nanami clicks his tongue, “you’re still here.”

“yeah, shut up.” you push him further into your cunt to silence him, a loud moan leaving your lips as nanami slobbers over you — you’re so wet, spilling onto the floor. without warning, nanami slips a finger into you, easing it in and the sheer thickness of it prompts more mewls from you.

“k—kento . .” you hear nanami groan at the first name basis, shoving his finger deeper into you. he pumps it as his tongue works overtime, the slickness of which your pussy sounds out echoing throughout the room. “i’m c-clos—”

that seems to fuel nanami further, memorising how your body feels under him. you clench repeatedly around his finger, thighs twitching against him while your whimpers increase in volume, just like your incoherent babbles.

“i’m g’nna— kento, i’m c—” your back arches when you gush all over his face, juices squirting and making a mess out of his hair. nanami groans into your sopping pussy, slurping up your arousal shamelessly as you continue to give him everything of you. you’re shaking around him, moans slowly dwindling due to shame. by now, you’ve soaked through the bottom of your tights, letting him rip the seams for a little more access.

“wanna hear you, baby.” he easily multitasks, turning you around while removing his underwear, looking back at him while you shimmy your ass back into him. with a low moan, nanami drags his tip over your folds, collecting your cum and pushing it in with it. the stretch makes your jaw drop and legs tremble, pussy still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

you hold on to the wooden desk to the best of your ability but your iron grip makes the wood creak a little; it isn’t long before nanami starts moving.

“f-fuck . . you’re so tight,” the lewdness of the situation, your ruined tights, your ass moving with the force of his hips has him gripping your hips harsher than intended. his cock is just so fat, hitting your spots effortlessly as he rams into you from behind, “will this be enough motivation for you to finish that lab report, hm?” your perked up ass is receiving all the abuse from his pelvis, rutted into with pure primal need as the slaps of his balls against you gets louder and louder, just like your moans.

“g-gonna need more than this, kento—!” you’re whining as he reaches around to rub at your clit, messy and fast, surely drawing marks down the once flawless wooden desk. he just hopes there’s no one who requires the professor’s assistance because there was a clear indication that the office was open with the shining ceiling light but he was in no condition to answer any questions without panting.

nanami pushes down your lower back, cockhead hitting your spots over and over, “need more? of course you do, fuckin’ slut.” it’s a total 180 from the gentle way he’s kissed you earlier — a choked whine and a clench of your pussy tells him you like it . “oh . . she’s cock drunk already, huh?”

“yesyesyes! mmff— kento, please . .” he pulls on your hair from behind, made easy by the ponytail you had it in and you moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure. he takes it a little easier, resting his large palm at your neck and pulling, together with your hair. nanami sucks at the same spot as earlier, and the overwhelming sensations has you both arching your back and fucking yourself back onto him.

“pretty arch you got here, darling,” he pants out, fucking so hard into you with his support that your hands don’t even need to rest on the table. nanami knows you’re already close by the way you’re unresponsive, mindless babbling leaving your mouth while you let him use your limp body. “is it all for m-me?”

“mhmh— it is, it is—” you’re fucked senseless, letting him turn your head to meet him in a sloppy kiss. by now your pussy juices are spurting all over the place, staining the floor and table, dripping down his balls where with every slam of his cock you can here the wet pap! pap! pap!’s of it.

“y—yeah i know it is; that’s all you are, aren‘t you? a little cocksleeve for me.” nanami groans out, letting go entirely before wrapping his arms around you and trapping you between his front and the table. he’s flush against your back, thrusts faltering with each plunge into your warm, tight pussy as he feels you clench tirelessly and you don’t even to say it before you’re jolting in his hold.

“cumming, i’m cumming . . fuuuck . .” your body is so sensitive, shaking around his cock that continues to move into you. you cum all over him, listening to the dirty whispers he’s dumping into your ears.

“oh . .” nanami groans, “that’s a good little slut, s-shit—” your hips continue to move even though your brain tells you to stop, hands making terrible effort at reaching for him.

“wan’ you to cum in me, kentoo—” your grip on his forearm is tight, pleading with your doe eyes and small voice that has nanami grunting out in a dilemma, but your pussy’s too warm that he cums suddenly. his voice reaches a higher register, stuttering pelvis rutting into you with the intent of breeding you; he pumps you full of his seed, ropes upon ropes of white filling your womb. it’s so thick that you shiver again, yelping softly when he pulls out.

“look at that . .” nanami marvels at the amount of cum he’s dumped into you, using a finger to scoop it up before pushing it back in that you jump from the coldness of his finger. “a smart girl turned so dumb just from cock.” you give him an intoxicated smile, lazy and hooded as you lay limp on the table.

“only for your cock, nanami-san . .” you lick a stripe up the palm of your hand and he indulges you by stepping closer. he moans softly as your hand makes contact with his shaft, “or should i say . . sir?”

nanami ended up driving you back to your dorm, helping you to your room from how sore you were after that.

[aernx]

under the rearview 𖧷 （ 엔하 ）

[❕] secret relationship w enha maknae line · warnings jealousy in jungwon’s part · genre · fluff, minor angst?, university au · not proofread （hyung line ver ）

001. KIM SUNOO （김선우）

It’s the nth time they asked, yet your answer remains the same. You and Sunoo were just friends, nothing more, nothing less. Well for them, that is. But in reality, you two far exceeds the label of “friends”. It’s been nearly three months since you both started dating and watching your friends remain clueless towards your intwined hearts, made everything more exciting.

Sunoo was your crush friend since high school. With his perfect looks and personality sweeter than the dose of sugar in a candy bar, it was extremely hard not to catch feelings. Not that anyone can blame you, Sunoo’s charms were irresistible.

After endless years mastering the art of pining and denial, you finally mustered the confidence to confess. Much to your surprise, the feeling you held for him did not remain one sided.

Stolen glances across cafeteria tables, intwined pinkies in between lecture halls, you and Sunoo were good at keeping it under the rearview.

Always so cautious, but it makes everything better, more thrilling. Sneakily hiding behind staircases, biting back the smile that crept on your lips as he enters your line of sight.

One day maybe. One day you’ll be able to tell your friends. But right now, you feel content on what was going. Just you and Sunoo, overlooked under the blinding lights, hands joined in the darkness where the shadows loom.

002. YANG JUNGWON （양중원）

Maybe it was an impulsive decision. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it. Hell it was your idea, you wanted to keep you and Jungwon’s relationship private. And you regret every second of it.

You get that Jungwon was popular—hell you are even popular too. But you didn’t think he would be that kind of popular.

There was a difference between you and him. If any guys dared to approach you, you were quick to turn them down. But Jungwon? He’s different. He’s too kind to shoot down girls like that. Especially when that girl is the student council secretary.

As the council president, it was his job to deal with countless of students, and that was no issue for you. After all you yourself knew better. As his vice, it was also your job to attend such matters.

But you knew something was wrong when the secretary never once spared you a glance in meetings, or such. Her eyes basically glued to your boyfriend as he presented the important matters in hand.

You felt like rolling your eyes. Hell maybe you did. Sure maybe it’s not her fault—she didn’t know any better. You had no reason to hate her.

It’s not her fault she developed a tiny little crush on Jungwon. I mean the whole university probably did at some point. But you didn’t like it. Maybe it’s your fault you decided to keep it private. But you didn’t want your relationship spectate any unwanted attention. The council was already busy as it is, there was no need anymore unnecessary stirs.

But once you informed Jungwon of this matter, you knew you did the right thing. He understands, because that’s who he was. You took notice of the way your boyfriend set boundaries with the secretary you were wary of. After all their relationship were just bound to student council matters, nothing more. Unlike you and him, who’s hearts beat in sync in between all those meetings, amidst the busyness of the council. Because you knew he always got your back, and you always got his.

003. NISHIMURA RIKI （西村 力）

You loved it. You loved every second of it. Seeing his eyes searching yours in the midst of the crowd, seeing his friends tease him for having a crush on you while in reality, you were already his.

He loved seeing them completely oblivious with the fact. It’s funny, really. Maybe it’s a bit childish, but that’s just how you and Riki has always been. Light and carefree was the motto of your relationship.

You wanted to keep things easygoing, slow. You both weren’t ready for the others to know just yet. Though, it’s not like you both were trying hard to hide it. Your friends and him was just a bit blind. If one were to pay attention it would be all too obvious.

The way his eyes lights up everytime you pass by was hard to miss, even for a blind person. The sight of you itself made him giddy to the heart. Sure maybe it’s a shame that he couldn’t show you off. That he couldn’t shove the smirks of his hyungs’ face, a clear look of triumph displayed on his features as he tells his hyungs how he got the girl.

It’s a shame, really. But deep down, you both think it’s more intimate. No one knows about what’s happening under the bleachers. No one knows the way you sneak him in your dorm room in twilight, where the moon shines its brightest. No one knows the way his heart is in your grasp, fingers fully intwined, as he held you close, not willing to ever let go.

perma taglist ❀ @1-800shutthefuckup @astrae4 @chaerybae @haechansbbg @ja4hyvn | nets. @enhanet @hyfenet @kflixnet @k-labels

© aernx 2023 / do not steal, copy, translate — hope you enjoy my works! let me know if you have any suggestions ! comment ur thoughts n reblogs n likes wld be appreciated !

[loser-jpg]

HIHI OK SO LOSER. HERE ME OUT PLS. GIGGLES!!!

IF REQUESTS ARE OPEN WOULD YOU MIND. SPINNING A LIL ENEMIES TO LOVERS/FRIENDS DIDDY FOR IDIA SHROUD AND A GN READER. I WILL KISS THE GROUND YOU WALK ON I SWEAR THIS IDEA HASNT LEFT ME ALONE SINCE I STARTED LIKING HIM. ITS OK IF NOT THOUGH OBVI!! MAKE SURE U TAKE UR TIME BESTIE AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF <333

this is the silliest reader ive ever written

The most annoying thing about attending a prestigious academy is without a doubt, pride. The deadly sin curses every individual at NRC, all of them having been told that they are destined for greatness, fate being on their side.

This obviously leads to some of the most egotistical bastards this side of the Shaftlands being cooped up all together in the same space. Also at the age where the dumbest decisions of maintaining self confidence are made.

To you, one of the many young adults cursed with being a general annoyance was Idia Shroud. You also happened to be sat right next to him.

Funnily enough Ortho was able to convince his older brother to begin attending his classes in person, a thoughtful gesture to his brother, but not to you!

Now you had to spend every day face to face with one of the most bothersome people at the school. You made your annoyance of him very clear, too. He was an anti-social shut in who somehow still thought himself better than everyone else despite being so pathetic he couldn't speak to someone face to face. How in the world was he supposed to be a talented mage?!

The most annoying part of it all was ever since he had started going out of his comfort zone he had also seemingly started to become slightly less of an ass. It was unfair. People aren't allowed to just change out of nowhere when you hate them, you're supposed to hate them!

It didn't matter anyway, Idia Shroud hated you so you were allowed to hate him, even if you suddenly started to see that he was a troubled man, untrusting because the world had wronged him before. It didn't matter if he was simply confident because of his talent that was truly better than others, he was rude anyway.

Idia Shroud hated you, so you hated hi-

"Um, hey?" A soft voice came from your left.

"Hm?" You were so caught up in your annoyance you hadn't noticed your surroundings at all. The rest of the class had already left. And Trein too for some reason? "Crap I was not paying attention for the end of the lecture."

You had said it to yourself, but the firey haired boy with his hood pulled over his head responded anyway. "Ah, I uh... I could share my notes with you...?"

What.

"...Uh, yeah sure, thanks. That'd...that'd be helpful."

You stood up from your chair, still dazed at the peculiar situation you found yourself in. Idia tapped on his tablet a bit before your phone pinged in your pocket, a notification of a shared document bright on the screen. Since when did Idia Shroud have your number? And since when did he help out others for no reason?!

You opened the document to skim through it quickly when something near the bottom caught your eye. A small footnote about a project. A group project. A group project without pre assigned partners.

Ah, that's it.

Once again you were proven right, Idia Shroud being his typical self. He didn't speak to anyone in the class so it's inevitable he had no one to do the project with, and was sharing his notes to try and guilt you into doing it with him by making you feel in his debt-

"The uh, the project at the bottom is groups of two. I think some of the people in the row who sit behind us don't have partners yet." Idia held his tablet close to him, glancing at the door.

"You already have a partner?" Impossible, he was probably just saying that to make you to be the one to ask to be in his group, to safe himself the embarrassment of having to ask.

"Yeah, Cater had already asked me to join his group. He said Trey had grouped up before he could ask him. Well, uhm, I have to go. Uh- you- you can message me if you have questions about the notes!" Idia ran out the door before you could say anything.

...

WHAT.

Something about that made your blood boil. It wasn't jealousy though, it couldn't be. No, no it was disrespect! He said that to be condescending, to brag! To shove it in your face that even a shut in like him could join a group before you. That was his plan all along! To share his notes to get you to ask about the project just to laugh at you for trying to ask to join his group. Well the joke was on him, you'd never be his partner, group project or otherwise!

---

You weren't able to join a group. Stupid Idia Shroud neglected to tell you that those 'people in the row who sit behind us who have partners' joined up outside of class time. And then he had the gall to apologize about you not joining a group as if he hadn't totally 100% planned this.

Suffering was endless and you were ready to give up. That was until Cater Diamond came waltzing up to your row, passing by you to talk to Idia.

"Change of plans, sorry Idia, Trey's partner joined a different group so I'm gonna work with him now. Good luck on the project!"

"Huh?! Wha-?! Cater, wait-!" Idia stared in dumbfounded shock as Cater skipped away leaving both you and Idia groupless. Well at least Idia was just as pathetic as you now.

Idia turned toward you after a moment. "Uh, did you want to be group partners...? Since...since neither of us have anyone to work with?"

Not on your life, Shroud.

"Yeah, sure."

FU-

Truthfully this was the best situation with the cards you had been dealt, likely you could get him to do any of the work you didn't want to, and you'd get a good grade with him as your partner. Doesn't mean you liked the situation, but still.

"Ah, there's a relatively new cafe nearby we could work at? It- it could be better than working in any of the dorms. If you want." Idia shifted a bit, and you couldn't tell what his goal with this was. Was he planning to force you to pay or something? Suggesting leaving and going anywhere was very unlike him. Something had to be up.

---

Eventually the two of you did go to the cafe to work on your project, and when you insisted on not getting anything and just focusing on working Idia bought you a drink anyway.

"I said I didn't want anything?" You pushed the cup away an inch, the drink was colorful, fading from a deep blue at the top to a light pink at the bottom. You weren't sure what flavor it could be.

Idia drank out of his own cup, a bright red drink that looked fizzier than your own. He added something to your project on his tablet at the same time. "I know but I, uhm, I felt uncomfortable being the only one with a drink. You don't have to drink it, just keep it in front of you." Idia paused a moment before adding a rushed "please" at the end.

So you did. For maybe a minute before you couldn't help taking a sip. It was fruitier tasting than you expected, but not citrus or sour. You pulled the cup toward you to move the straw from the pink section to the blue, noticing that the darker color tasted more like some berry you couldn't pinpoint than the pink had. Overall it tasted good. So good, in fact, you drank almost half of it before you remembered you were supposed to be working.

You glanced up at Idia to see if he had noticed you absolutely chugging whatever drink it was he had gotten you, but either he was pretending he hadn't, or he was really into this project. You noticed only a small amount had been drank from Idia's cup.

You were about to say something until you decided that if Idia wanted to waste his own drink, and his own money, than so be it. And with that you stuck your head back down to finish up this project and finally be rid of having to converse with the shut in outside of class hours.

---

Sure enough your project raked in a well needed high grade, even going so far as to be personally complimented by Trein himself. You figured that'd be the end of having to talk to Idia Shroud but Seven forbid because the universe had other plans for you.

'Would you like to go see a movie'

That wasn't exactly the way he had said it, it was a lot more unconfident, and there were a few pauses halfway through, but in the end phrasing didn't matter because now you were walking down the street in the middle of a surprise spring heat spell returning from seeing a movie with your number one enemy ever. It was a good movie too which made you even more mad. Now you'd have to think of him every time you saw it which is not what you wanted to happen.

"I am about to pass out from this heat. I'm sitting down a moment." You quickly flopped down on the nearest bench, fanning yourself with your hand. "How in the world are you not burning up in that hood, Shroud?"

Idia shrugged, slowly stepping away from where you were sitting. "I'll get you a drink, wait here."

"Huh, wha?" Once again Idia had left you before you could argue. He had paid for you guys to go to the movie, refusing to accept you paying him back much to your annoyance. You didn't want to be any more in his debt than you already were. You looked down, attempting to form at least a small shadow over your face, at the price of your neck, when a cold cup lightly touched the side of your face.

You jumped a moment before realizing it was Idia, and took the cup with a small 'thank you'. Once you looked at the cup properly you recognized the blue and pink colors of the cold drink, which felt particularly nice in your hands. You hadn't realized the two of you were near that cafe again, much less that they made drinks to-go.

"You, uh, you seemed to like it last time so I figured it was better to get you something I knew you'd enjoy." Idia's fingers played with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, as he glanced in every direction except for you. You looked back down at the drink again, noticing a small resemblance between the light pink if the drink and a light pink dusting the ends of Idia's bright hair.

"Stop being nice, I'm supposed to hate you." You couldn't stop yourself before you blurted out words without thinking, but you quickly caught yourself just a moment too late, slapping a hand across your mouth in shock of your own harshness.

"Huh-! I- what!?" Idia looked just as confused and shocked as anyone would, which made you rethink if he ever actually disliked you as much as you had thought. He quickly shook off his surprised state and gave you probably the most sarcastic look you had seen from him in weeks. "If you hate me why did you agree to be here...?"

"Ah...I dunno." The both of you stared at each other, growing more confused by the second. You couldn't explain your strange decisions and thought process even to yourself, let alone another person.

Though through starring at his face, admitting your difficulty in keeping up your one sided rivalry, and being exposed to what you now could only see as genuine acts of generosity and kindness you were hit with a very quick, and very mind shattering realization.

You had feelings for Idia Shroud.

Romantic ones. You thought they were hatred but no, thinking now you found certain aspects of him so endearing it made you angry in cuteness aggression. This asshole actually had the capacity to be very nice and kind and helpful and it was so charming it made you want to smack your head into a wall from overstimulation of good feelings.

Wait-

You had just went to the movies with him, where he paid, and now he just got you a drink from a cafe the two of you had already went to together. Activities that required exiting Idia's comfort zone for extended periods of time.

You couldn't help yourself, you had to ask. "Is this a date?" You almost shouted the question at him upon considering the possibility, and you half believed Idia was about to run away with how loud and generally chaotic you were currently being in your extremely confused state.

"Huh!? A- a wha-!?" Idia was giving you the same look you were giving him now both of you more confused than ever. This was definitely quite the confrontation.

"A date! Is it!? I mean it feels like it!" You set your drink down on the bench to stand up. You hadn't even gotten to take a sip yet, but there were more pressing matters.

Idia stuttered a moment longer, before falling silent and seemingly considering your question. "Did, did you want it to be?"

Ah, a counter. You could play this game. "Did you? You're the one who asked me to go see a movie with you."

And a perfect follow up, from here there was no way for Idia to counter your counter of his counter of your attack. He would have to take the hit with at least 3 times the damage now.

And he definitely knew, his eyes squinted in slight annoyance as he considered his answer, finally admitting defeat with a sigh. "Uh," he looked away from you, "sort of? I mean. I'd like that, but...but I'm sure you wouldn't so it's fine, it's nothing."

You were hit with another wave of shock, despite prodding him with the question expecting this exact answer. You quickly responded before he could continue to convince himself you wouldn't return his feelings.

"I'd like it to be a date too!" You stepped forward, reaching to grab his hand before hesitating. He might have wanted to be on a date with you, but that didn't mean he'd be comfortable with you touching him.

"I- you- uh- I thought you hated me?"

"Did, past tense, also the possibility I didn't and was just angry because I liked you, the human mind is difficult to comprehend." You waved your hand as though you could physically wave away his doubts with more than just your roundabout answers to his very solid questions. Despite this you watched as he let out a small laugh, causing you to crack a grin yourself.

You picked up your drink, looking at the horizon as the sun started to set, painting the sky in pinks and oranges that made the street extremely pretty, and drew out the blue of Idias fiery hair, painted with more pink than earlier.

A silent invitation to continue heading back to campus, the two of you began to walk, before Idia hesitantly slipped his hand in your own, intertwining your fingers with his.

"Did- did you want to go on another date next week?" Idia couldn't keep a straight face, failing to hide an excited grin as he asked his question.

You responded with the most sure and prideful answer you had that day. "Yes, definitely."

[i520u]

impulsive thoughts ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

there’s a season 4??? omg i was just about to cancel my netflix subscription LOL also i didn’t proofread this so my bad if there are grammar or spelling errors i’m sooo sleepy rn but thank you for requesting! <3

ricky x gn!reader, fluff(?), enemies to lovers, one-shot

masterlist

request is open!

your heart was beating out of your chest as your uber finally stopped in front of the gates of your university. if it wasn’t for ricky shen and his idiots of a group of friends constantly being late last semester, your university would have never updated their policy of not giving attendance to any students who came to class later than 10 minutes within the scheduled lecture session.

“fuck.” you muttered under your breath as you started bolting to your campus. the large compound was not helping at all with you already being 5 minutes late. you wished you ran more in the mornings, or maybe went to the gym more often — why were you already out of breath?

as you continued running, even climbing 2 flights of stairs because the lifts were taking forever, you were quickly approaching a bunch of people ahead of you walking in a slow pace. “excuse me,” you said in a slightly loud voice, it worked for most of the part as most of the students moved out of the way — except for one.

of course it had to be him. nothing could ever get through his thick head it seemed. as a result of bumping into ricky, his phone fell out of his hands, followed by a loud thud that you swore the entire hallway could hear as the device hit the floor. “what the hell?” he mumbled as he looked behind him in complete shock.

his face distorted into what could only be described as disgust when he was met with the sight that unfolded before his eyes. you. “do you not watch where you’re going?” he asked, a lace of sarcasm was palpable in the tone of his voice. if you had more than 3 minutes before you were officially declared absent, you would’ve retorted back; but you didn’t.

rolling your eyes, you continued speed walking, thankful that you made to class in time. so did ricky, unfortunately. there wasn’t much seats left given that you were late which made you have no other choice but to sit together with ricky at the same table. you didn’t want to spare him any look as you know you’d die out of disgust for him, so your eyes wandered to his phone on the table.

it had a prominent crack across the screen, and you were almost 100% sure you caused that. you pressed your lips together, a pang of guilt suddenly washing over you the longer you stared at his phone. you knew he could easily afford a new one, but you were a bigger person than him, and you acknowledge your mistake unlike him.

but at the same time, you did not want to apologise to him. not because he doesn’t deserve it — you just don’t want people thinking you’re friends with him if they saw the two of you talking.

you didn’t hate him at first, but seeing the way he acted at the beginning of the year was enough reason for you to hate him — and the fact that he’s just never had anything nice to say to you amplified your hatred even more.

letting out a soft sigh, you muster up all the courage to apologise to him, because once again you are a bigger person than he’ll ever be, and you admit to your mistakes. your hand reached out to his, gently tapping it to get his attention.

ricky’s eyes darted to the side when he felt your touch, he was almost taken aback. if he gave it a thought, this was the first time the two of you had ever had any kind of physical contact. he gave you a slight head tilt, motioning you to explain why you wanted his attention in the first place.

upon seeing the way he reacted to you trying to call him, you fought back the urge to roll your eyes at how brazen he was. “sorry for breaking the screen of your phone.” you pointed, your voice sounded sincere to him. ricky almost scoffed at your apology, though. were you actually apologising? over something so small? he wasn’t even holding it against you, since his phone has had that crack since over a month now.

he was going to explain to you that you weren’t the one that caused the cracked screen — but an evil idea had popped into his mind right before he could say anything nice. it was like he was physically incapable of being nice for any longer than 3 seconds.

a smirk started to form on his face as he looked you in the eyes, which almost made you back away from him completely. if you were not in the middle of apologising, you would’ve definitely said something smart-assy to him by now.

you gave him a weird look as he narrowed his eyes, “are you really though? sorry?” he asked, leaning his face closer to you. you had to look around the class for a quick second to make sure that you weren’t actually the only one in the class, and that this was actually happening to you. you leaned into your chair to back away from him, nodding your head as you do so, “i–i am…?” what was intended to be a statement turned into a question instead.

hearing the uncertainty in your voice gave ricky more leeway to tease you, “you sound unsure yourself,” his face was smug as he leaned back, finally giving you room to breathe normally. “can you just accept my apology like a normal person?” you retorted, you physically couldn’t stop yourself from saying something snarky to him as he had successfully gotten on your nerve with the sudden invasion of privacy he just did.

his head immediately turned to look at you, almost shocked that you had said something rude not a minute after apologising to him. a part of him wanted to laugh too, you were making his job way too easy.

he shrugged as his gaze returned to the powerpoint slideshow your professor had opened up. “seems like you’re not actually sorry,” he paused, raising his phone to your eye level. “this isn’t cheap to fix, you know.” he finished, another sly smile forming on his lips.

“god, what do you want me to do then?” you scoffed, not actually meaning what you had just said. ricky held back a laugh, “if you were really sorry, you’d let me kiss you,” he didn’t actually mean it, though. he just wanted to see you flustered and embarrassed. his gaze once again diverted to you so he could catch a glimpse of your reaction.

your eyes were wide as you tried to process what he had just said, and if you had actually heard it correctly. but he said it loud and clear — there was no way you heard it wrong. “are you serious?” you asked in disbelief. ricky nodded, winking at you afterwards. “ricky, fuck you.” you bursted, rolling your eyes at his demeanour.

“would you, though?” he continued, his annoying smile only widened. “you’re so annoying.” you added, hoping one of your words would at least make him stop talking to you. you weren’t even sure why you were still entertaining him. ricky leaned closer to you once more, “and you’re not actually sorry, because if you were, you’d do as i ask.” he whispered, a soft chuckle following him at the end of the sentence.

your professor, all the way at the front, all of a sudden had shut the lights off inside the auditorium. he was telling the class of a 10-minute tutorial video he was about to show for everyone to see.

an idea popped into your mind at that very moment, seeing it as an opportunity. it wasn’t like anyone was gonna see the two of you in the big, and dark auditorium — and ricky was already inches away from your face. you decided to let your impulsive thoughts win this time — and for a good reason! you convinced yourself

swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you quickly grabbed ricky’s face — not giving it much thought if you were being harsh. ricky’s eyes were still adjusting to the dark when you suddenly started tightly grabbing his face. the next thing he knew, he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips.

you could somehow smell ricky’s breath — it was sweet, contrary to his characteristics of a complete degenerate. his lips were soft, and he almost immediately kissed you back. you expected nothing less from someone like him, of course he was an extremely good kisser.

before you got carried away, you immediately broke off the kiss. you tried your hardest to look tough, glaring at him although you weren’t really sure if he could see you. “now stop bothering me.” you warned him. your eyes finally diverting to the big screen in front of you.

ricky wanted to say something to annoy you, but he was genuinely too stunned to form any sort of coherent words. for the first time in his life, he decided to stay quiet. he was completely shocked that you would actually kiss him, without giving it a second though or whatever.

and he was taken aback by how good you were at kissing, it almost made him want to kiss you again. but you hated him, so he couldn’t do that. his heart was banging in his chest, he could physically hear it. but he wasn’t supposed to feel this way? you hate him. and he likes making you find more things to hate about him.

he turned to look at you again, to make sure the kiss had actually happened. to his surprise, you were also stealing glances from him. the two of you immediately looked away, eyes widened at the awkward eye contact. what just happened?

[luvkuvi]

5wirl !

what's so good about him ?!

Scaramouche x reader smau series

synopsis — Your ex boyfriend kuni is in a band called 5wirl and they're pretty well known considering him and his bandmates are still in college but you still hated his guts on how he ended things with you back then in highschool the day before graduation. So whats the best course of action in this situation? make a hate account of him of course. 

💌 — 5wirl introduction wohoo! also yes aether isnt here just bcs i dont want him too(im sorry aether KSKSKSK)

what's so good about him?!|| masterlist

Scaramouche kunikuzushi: Lead guitarist of 5wirl! Goes to the same uni as a 3rd year majoring in computer engineering him and the rest of 5wirl mostly take online lectures due to their scheduling but they can roam around campus when he wants to. For reasons he broke up with y/n before graduation and he never told anyone why but the only person who got close in getting an answer was childe.

shikanoin heizou: third year criminology major and drummer of 5wirl! is flirty with fans during performances. Despite knowing scara since highschool they dont get along often.

Xiao: thrid year computer science major and bassist of 5wirl! is the what you call "stan attractor" of the group. Fans love him for his mysterious edgy vibe and when he plays on stage you have fangirls screaming his name. Quiet and silent guy and scara and him gets along.

Venti: third year music major and lead vocalist of 5wirl!(also is the leader). Started 5wirl during highschool and he made a post online begging people to join his band so here comes 5wirl.

kaedehara kazuha: same major as y/n and is the rhythm guitarist of 5wirl. Really nice with fans and gets alot of fanmail containing poetry because he mentioned he liked poetry.

notes: some facts about 5wirl!

Heizou was first to respond to ventis post then the last one was xiao.

They all live in the same apparent room near uni(like those kpop dorms lmao) after graduating

the ones with the sanest fans are kazuhas and the one with the most down bad ones are scaras

All of them know about scara and y/n and they didnt pry onto his business since he acted pretty hurt and didn't attend practices

Fun fact their manager helped them get into one of the top uni (teyvat university) 🙏🙏🙏 oh and their manager is pretty chill but still wants them to focus on their studies

Taglist(closed): @sakiimeo @sagegreenthinks @evsolostheuniverse @ozzierenato @mechanicalbeat1 @bananasquash @admiringfish @misomiis @wolfe02 @msameikanevaeh @yukiipc @magica-ren @r0ttenhearts @vvyeislazzy @yuumaofc @klanxii @darthvada @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @yoyo-yui @deluluangel @katsumikumo @thenightsflower @lazy-sanns

[trashpandawithangerissues]

BULLY HEADCANONS

FOR CONTEXT I HAVE LIKE A LITTLE AU WHERE ITS THE NEXT YEAR AT BULLWORTH AFTER THE EVENTS OF THE GAME SO SOMETHINGS ARE DIFFERENT:

Derby, Ted and Johnny are all 18 (we at least know they’d be 17 in the main story)

And Edgar is 19, same age as the Prefects (who are around 18 in the main story)

Also all the Townies that we’re still old enough to attend school got reenrolled thanks to Jimmy boy (he gets Zoe back into school in the game so he could probably get the others)

Derby Harrington

- Not SUPER inbred (like Tad nearly is), but he still does have some issues. His immune system is AWFUL like the flu season is like the purge for him and if - god forbid - he gets sick he looks like he’s about to right his will. Like this is him:

- He’s the one who introduced Bif and the Preps to Boxing and also Botany (in a deleted dialogue when you kill the crapula maximus Chad says: “Derby’s going to KILL you!”) He and Parker are the most invested in Botany and Derby has a couple nice orchids on his balcony. He also trains Bif and also the others and I like to think that before Bif took the boxing spotlight, Derby was the champion, but his parents thought he’d be better suited for modelling

- Doesn’t particularly like modelling all that much, it bores him more than his father’s lectures do

- Sometimes disobeys his parents out of spite, but nothing overly serious, because he doesn’t really feel like getting beaten everyday

- He and Pinky put up the dating/betrothed act for their parents, they really kinda just hang out on their dates as besties/cousins rather than actual partners

- He has a drinking problem, like BAD (in the prep hide outs there’s almost always a bar in game) He’s also the complete opposite when he’s drunk, sometimes he’s sad af, sometimes he’s angry, sometimes he’s telling you your his best friend and he loves you and sometimes he’s white girl levels of crazy. He can do shots like it’s NOTHING or scull a whole bottle of expensive booze (shocks people when they first see this happening, damn near gave Johnny a heart attack)

- His way of saying “hey I don’t hate you and you’re my friend heheheh” is buying. So. Much. Stuff. Like oh you don’t have money for lunch? Here’s 3 cheeseburgers, oh you need money for your car to get towed? Take my money.

- Overdresses, to everything, like it could be fancy dress and he still looks way to fabulous.

- Has a guilty love of old corny movies and horror movies like slasher movies, he and Johnny watch them together either at one of their houses or at the movies/drive in movies

- Fairly decent at academics, especially math from him having to help his father with accounts

Johnny Vincent

- Of course, has a smoking addiction who would have guessed. Also he definitely could use an inhaler he STRUGGLES sometimes

- He’s AGGRESSIVELY Italian/American, like he’s the fucking poster boy for them. Angry Italian, the Italian hand and everything. He talks with his hands quite a bit. Like he’s yelling at you in loud Italian while doing this

- He has a sweet tooth especially for home made desserts, just home made food in general he’ll devour it if you look away for one second

- you think he’d be good at flirting but no, he’s a nervous wreck actually. Like if the person he asked out said yes he’d be the type of guy who’d pump his fist as he walked away.

- His uncle - one of many lol - owns a locksmith business and from this, Johnny can crack open damn near anything. Want to get into the staff room? Consider it done.

- Also, his love of cars, motorbikes and mechanic work is from the family business, he knows EVERYTHING about it, how to Hotwire cars, how to fix the pistons cheaply and effectively. His version of Derby’s “I’ll buy you anything you could ever want” love language, his is “I’ll fix you car for free give me some WD 40 and some cigarettes” He will NOT let you go to the mechanic as long as he’s alive

- Like Derby, adores old corny movies and especially the drive in. His favourite type of date is taking them to the movies to watch a horror movie. Is that because he wants his scared date to cling on to him at the jump scares? Maybe. Does he also just really like bad horror movies? Yes. Derby and him could binge the whole of the slasher type movies in one night easy.

- He wins an old broken down Harley Davidson from the auto shop class for having the best grades in school in that class. He fixed it up and he treats it better than he would his first born child

- Although he’s not that good at school, if he can relate it to mechanics, he’s amazingly good at it. Like math, if it’s something he’s had to use before fixing cars he’s great.

- Despite that, he has had to ask Derby for help in math or, reluctantly, Earnest

- He can speak Italian and also English, sometimes he messes up here and there but overall he’s pretty fluent in both. His Grandma and Grandpa on his mum’s side came from Italy and in his Fathers side his Great Grandparents came from Italy

- His sense of style came from his family lmao so did the smoking tbh

- His mum makes so. Much. Food. Like to the point she’ll cook for his friends. He has to tell her when people come over, last time he brought over the boys and he didn’t tell her she yelled at him in Italian and immediately whipped up a whole pot of pasta for them. His friends love her

Ted Thompson

- Golden Retriever boy

- He was going to get braces again (he had them when he was younger FOR SURE) but didn’t want to get bullied again/be a NERD

- If someone’s flirting with him, he won’t get it until you YELL IT at him. I feel so bad for Damon and Justin

- He uses bro and dudes unironically. He’s such a loser I love him

- Like overly competitive in EVERYTHING even board games and video games. Like this would be him

- Sheldon is his step brother. He hates him. Like these two would that sibling duo where Ted just -throws- him away when he’s pissing him off, which is everyday. He’d be that sibling to put Sheldon up somewhere high or tape him to a pole and leave him there. He wouldn’t admit it but he’ll kill someone if they do the same to Sheldon, that’s his job.

- He’s one of those gym bros who could eat a whole cow and still not get “fat” he’s like a black hole he’ll inhale a whole foot long in 5 seconds. He loves Johnny’s mum because of this, she’ll just feed them so much food. He also loves pestering Derby for food, tbh so do Johnny and Edgar.

- He’d totally just, pick up smaller kids like Kirby with one arm. All the big Jocks do tbh

- He’s one of those loveable idiot guys when he’s drunk.

- He BLASTS white girl music like you can hear it from down the road, he also treats it as if it’s karaoke and it’s that karaoke is a competitive sport rivalling AFL and Rugby on footy final day. Like for song like “Talk Dirty” he sings the trumpet part as well.

- He has a Wii and he’s broken at least like 2 remotes, he has to have the strap, lest someone gets a concussion

- The type of guy that if he found out you’re a lesbian he’d be like “Wow you like girls? I do too! We have so much in common”

- I feel like he’d be aggressively supportive of people, like someone calls his friends a slur and he’d just barge them Tf over and throw them in a bin

Edgar Munsen

- I like to think he does his own tattoos, the one on his arm is his first one he ever got. he wants to get more soon. He did that one right as he turned 16, Gurney probably did it for him.

- I feel like he’s also surprisingly good at drawing because of it, like oh btw you said you liked flowers? Here’s a tattoo design. And it’s just like a really good sketch and he down plays it constantly.

- One time he drew one of Derby’s orchids and he nearly got it tattooed right then and there, then remembered his dad would actually kill him

- He’d also get piercing later on, Johnny suggested the place he got his.

- He and Gurney are the booze smugglers of Bullworth, any alcohol you could name, they’ll steal it/buy and smuggle it in for you

- Like he’d stuff booze under his shirt even he’s probably pulled this before

- He smokes the devils bush if you know what I mean. Plus other stuff (in game a couple townies mention making bongs)

- He for reason always has a knife on him. Like he just pulls out a switchblade at school. The prefects have tried taking it off him, but he always gets it back somehow.

- He keeps forgetting he’s technically the same year as the Prefects and he hates it

- Like Johnny, he’s pretty good at breaking into stuff, even more so actually

- He’s definitely hot wired a car before

- I personally think he’s multi-racial with some Asian, African American and Hispanic in him (I like to think he’s Vietnamese/Jamaican-American/Puerto Rican/Mexican)

- He’s more Hispanic though, he’ll cuss you out in Spanish in a heartbeat and maybe some other languages

- Like he’d stub his toe and you just hear loud cussing in 5 different languages

- Like Johnny, he sometimes messes up some words of any of his many languages, but more so

- He also loves horror movies but unlike Derby and Johnny he likes the more psychological horrors that are FUCKED like those French Extremity movies

[zhounauts]

crown prince!lee heeseung x f!reader // warnings: cursing, fainting (?) part two series masterlist

a/n got inspo for this after rereading this reincarnation webtoon i used to like a lot, these reincarnation stories are lwk a guitly pleasure of mine so i was like why not write one

+ is this even considered an x reader??? like heeseung hates u oopsie lolz

anyways enjoy (hopefully)

YOU WOKE UP WITH AN EPIPHANY , to give the two leads their happy ending. despite the fact that you had woken up in a stereotypical reincarnation manhwa, the author was far from stereotypical. not only did she have a strange almost concerning obsession with her two main leads, but she was also a goody-two shoes rule follower who told you that the original plot of the story and every single event must be followed and copied to perfection.

unfortunately for her, you said fuck that, had knights take her away and put her in a mansion on the outskirts of the kingdom where she wouldn't be able to reach you. so now, instead of scheming devious, nefarious acts against the female protagonist you now took advantage of your personal chef who worked relentlessly at your constant requests to try all the fancy dishes you could've never afforded in your previous life.

"the audacity!" rina, your maid suddenly exclaims, holding a letter.

"i can't believe this! my lady, this is outrageous! how can saintess sora write and send something so shameless!? " faye your second maid exclaims.

"hm?" you ask, focusing on the blueberry cheesecake in front of you, "what happened faye?"

"the saintess sent an invitation for her tea party! she wrote, 'countess i know we are not on good terms because of the crown prince, but the other ladies and i hope that you will join our humble tea party, and put aside your grudge'" you chew on the cake.

"oh, okay,"

"OKAY!?" the two scream.

"m-my lady! how does this not bother you? she is being disrespectful and using the fact that she has the crown prince's affections despite you are his soon-to-be wife!"

"oh, that's true," you shrug, "what can i do about it? if he likes her better okay then, i don't want to marry him anyways," rina collapses into faye's arms.

"my lady! rina are you--"

"with all due respect, but my lady, back then you would've done something! why the change of heart now?"

"well. . .he doesn't like me?? like it's pretty obvious, and i was just naive and uhm, craving for male validation back then or something like that i guess. it doesn't matter to me anymore,"

". . ."

"besides, his highness prince jay is more my type ,"

"MY LADY-"

"I MIGHT FAINT-"

after calming down your fainting maids, you had reassured them that you would go to the tea party and give the female protagonist, saintess sora, a taste of her own medicine for the disrespect she had sown you. (you were not planning this at all)

so now here you were, a week later getting dressed for the pain-in-the-ass tea party. "my lady we will dress you up to be the most beautiful at the party!" your maids exclaim.

"that's really. . .not necessary you know? i'll wear one of the dresses i usually wear," rina starts to lecture you, before a knock interrupts. faye rushes out of the dressing area, to open the door.

"your highness!" she exclaims, bowing. you peek out from behind the dressing area and head out.

"my lady you are not ready--"

"your highness, a pleasure to have you here," you say, bowing.

"y/n," heeseung addresses coldly, "are you attending sora's tea party?"

"yes, your highness,"

"she was telling me she was worried you would reject her request, due to your dislike for her," he says, narrowing his eyes at you bitterly. you stare at him unimpressed.

"my apologies, your highness, if i offend you by saying this. however you and saintess sora seem to be mistaken,"

"my lady don't--"

"i literally don't give a shit,"

"oh dear gods," rina mutters, and she collapses.

a/n lemme know how it was 😋😋

[dessarious]

This was not the Plan

New Years one shot (please let it stay a one shot)

Marinette could not for the life of her figure out how she'd ended up here. She was supposed to be at home, in her pajamas, asleep before the ball dropped. She had a plan, damn it.

That plan did not include Alya showing up at her apartment in London. Especially since she was supposed to be covering the ball drop in New York. It didn't involve said friend dragging her to an upscale party where Adrien and Felix just happened to be in attendance. And it damn sure didn't involve listening to Alya try to give her a pep talk (read lecture) about asking Adrien to kiss at midnight. No, this was definitely not the plan.

—————————————————-

Cass and Steph were supposed to be on a plane to Gotham. Unfortunately, some asshole (read Scarecrow) gassed the airport, and it was in lockdown until a HazMat team gave the all clear. Instead, they were stuck in an upscale London hotel. Which wouldn't be bad except there was a fancy New Year's party going on and the host had cornered them as they were checking in to invite them. Cass hated having to keep up a public image. But at least she had Steph to make things bearable.

They were standing along one of the walls, Steph making highly inappropriate comments at other people's expense, when Cass noticed two women. One obviously excited to be there and the other... not so much. As they wandered closer, Cass could hear their conversation.

"I feel I've been very clear on this." The one who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else sounded frustrated and annoyed.

"I know you think he's out of your league, but you'll regret it if you don't shoot your shot, girl!" Her tone was exasperated, if fond. Given the reaction from the other woman, this was a recurring debate. Cass didn't think she'd ever seen anyone roll their eyes so hard.

"I don't think he's out of my league. I'm just not interested in him. I really wish you would stop acting like we're still teenagers. It was an adolescent crush, and it wasn't healthy on top of that." Her friend didn't seem to hear her.

"Look! There he is. Now's your chance."

"Alya, you're not listening to me. Besides, that's Felix, not Adrien."

"Oh? You can tell that just by looking, huh?" Her tone seemed to imply that meant something but her friend just gave her a dry look.

"Anyone who's met them should be able to tell that." She gestured to the man Alya had pointed out. "Grumpy cat." Then she scanned the crowd before pointing to another man identical to the first. "Excited puppy."

Cass observed the two and had to admit the other woman was right. It kind of reminded her of the difference in Damian and Jon's personalities. The first man was comfortable in the setting, but was extremely standoffish and full of himself. The other was happy and friendly, talking to anyone who got close to him.

"Quit stalling. It's almost midnight."

"Alya, I'm not-"

"You can't bail on me this time. Do you have any idea what it took for me to get tickets to this party? Give me one good reason why you can't go ask him to kiss you for New Years."

Given how red the other woman's face had gotten during her friend's rant, Cass expected an explosion. What she wasn't expecting was for the woman to turn and pull her down into an angry, almost desperate kiss. She didn't know how to react, so she just let it happen. Honestly, she felt bad for her... it was also kind of nice if she was being honest with herself. When the woman pulled back, Cass was a bit dazed. She turned on her friend.

"That's why!" And promptly stormed out to the balcony. Cass was startled out of watching her when Steph let out a laugh.

"I'd say that's a pretty good reason." Steph's amused tone caused Alya to flush red before storming off in the opposite direction from her friend. "You should go check on her." Cass raised an eyebrow at her and Steph gestured to the balcony with a knowing smirk.

"Do you really think she wants to see me? That had to have been embarrassing." Cass signed at her in confusion, but Steph just turned her and gave her a push towards the balcony. Cass still wasn't certain it was a good idea, but Steph had a better understanding of such emotions, so she went. She found the other woman leaning over the balcony, muttering into her crossed arms. "Are you okay?" She spoke in English even though they'd been talking in French before hoping she understood since they were in London. She could understand French well enough, but speaking it was trickier.

"I'm fine." She said it in English, barely audible. When she looked up Cass watched her go through a variety of emotions. First was exhaustion, then confusion, recognition, embarrassment, and ending with horror. "Oh dear Kwami, I can't believe I sexually assaulted a complete stranger. I am so sorry!"

"It's okay." Cass hadn't thought of it that way, but she supposed it was technically true.

"It's not okay! It's the complete opposite of okay. I can't believe I did that. I'm such a terrible person. I understand if you want to call the authorities. Or I can do something to make it up to you. I'm a fashion designer, not that you need new or better clothes, you look amazing in that dress, but if you wanted something, or I can tailor some things if you need it. Nothing will make up for-" The woman wasn't stopping to breathe and Cass had been trying to get her attention, but ended up latching onto her forearms to get her to stop. The guilt in the woman's eyes was painful to watch.

"I'm Cass." It wasn't what she really wanted to say, but it did stop her, well for a second anyway. Then she looked embarrassed.

"Oh, I'm Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng." She started going through her handbag and pulled out a business card. She wrote on the back before handing it over. "That's my work phone on the front. I put my real name on the back and my personal phone number so you can get a hold of me for whatever you decide. I really am sorry." Cass frowned at the card for a moment. "Is something wrong?"

"You're the designer for Foundational Fashions?" She couldn't help her surprise. It was an innovative brand that Jason had actually introduced her to.

"Oh, um, yes, but I'd appreciate it if you would keep that to yourself. I try to stay below the radar."

"I know." That got a confused blink. "My brother and I have been trying to find a way to commission you for a couple of years."

"Then I can make you something, both of you, to apologize." She sounded almost excited at the idea, and Cass had to force herself not to frown. No way was this worth whatever her prices were.

"I wouldn't feel right not paying you. Just getting a slot for a commission is more than enough." The woman's expression fell and Cass would blame that for what happened next. She really didn't like seeing her unhappy. "There is something else."

"Of course. Anything."

"Let me kiss you at midnight."

"Sure, no problem... wait what?" Cass looked for any sign she'd made Marinette uncomfortable, but all she saw was confusion. "After what I did, why..." She didn't seem to be able to finish the thought. "I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of people who would love to... why would you pick me?"

She seemed genuinely confused, and Cass didn't really know how to respond. The longer she stayed silent, the more Marinette drew in on herself and she had no idea why. She didn't seem to object to the actual kissing part though, so Cass felt a bit less creepy about asking.

"I don't want to kiss anyone else." Marinette's cheeks turned bright red and Cass was worried she'd said the wrong thing. "Earlier I felt... I would like to try it again." It was times like this she wished she was better with words. When she looked back at Marinette, the woman was studying her. She seems less embarrassed and more thoughtful.

"There's still half an hour until midnight. Why don't we sit and talk? Maybe start on you commissions."

————————————————--

Cass looked relieved at the suggestion, and Mari realized she wasn't the only one floundering. She still couldn't believe she'd done something so stupid and could only be glad that Cass didn't want her arrested. Once they were settled at the table that happened to be on the balcony, Mari wasn't certain where to start.

"So, what are your hobbies?" That was a good starting place, right?

"Ballet, and I do martial arts."

"Well, that certainly explains the physique." Yes Mari, let's be even more creepy. She absolutely should not be flirting.

"What explains yours?" She could practically feel Cass' eyes running down her figure. Okay, maybe she should be flirting.

"I grew up in a bakery. When it comes in bulk, everything is heavy. And once I got into design, bolts of fabric aren't light either. Then, Hawkmoth showed up, and I ended up in self-defence and parkour classes with a lot of my friends. Nothing anywhere near as structured as what you've done, though." And the whole superhero thing, but that was definitely not a conversation for a first... whatever this was.

"What happened to him?" Marinette fought not to wince. That was the million dollar question that only she knew the answer to. It was an extremely messy take down, and she'd had to wipe the memories of everyone involved. Including Adrien because of how badly he'd reacted to finding out Gabriel was Hawkmoth.

"All we know is that Ladybug said he'd been taken care of and she and Chat were retiring. Most people were just grateful it was over, to be honest." Granted, that attitude was helped along by the fact that no one could find her to question the official story. "Where are you from? Your accent sounds American."

"I live in Gotham." Cass' tone was odd but Mari couldn't place why.

"Oh, then you're used to worse. At least most of the damage Hawkmoth did could be reversed. The emotional toll was bad enough, but I can't even imagine constantly being afraid that anyone around you could end up dead in the next attack." Cass gave a hum, and Mari was worried she'd offended her.

"It is... difficult." Mari noticed Cass moving her hands as she spoke and realized she'd been doing it since they started talking. "I think most people have developed a sense of apathy, or maybe just put on blinders to the danger until it actually happens, since there's not much they can do if one of the major rogues decides to attack. At the same time, more and more people and organizations are coming together to try and help each other. It is still hopeful, and Gothamites are stubborn."

"Yes, people seem to be able to get used to just about anything if they have to." Humans were extremely adaptable, and that wasn't always a good thing. "Oh! You're signing, aren't you?" Mari hadn't meant to say that out loud and given the embarrassed look on Cass' face, she shouldn't have. "Sorry, I just noticed the movements."

"It's how I first learned to communicate. My childhood was... unorthodox." Given her tone, Mari had a feeling that was an understatement. "I can stop if you-"

"No! I mean it's fine. I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable." Mari really, really wished she could stop making an idiot of herself in front of the woman. She'd like to blame the sleep deprivation from her per Christmas dash to get everything done, but this was just how she was. She always turned into a disaster around pretty people. It's why she was so nervous around Adrien originally, because he had always been extremely pretty. Other people had called him handsome, but his features had always been too delicate for that. It took Mari three years to understand why she thought she liked him. And wasn't that a fun week long mental breakdown?

"It's fine. Some people just seem to think I'm trash talking them instead of going through the motions to help find the right words." Mari could only blink at her for a moment.

"I feel like those are the same people who are constantly trash talking people in their head and projecting that on to you." Cass let out an amused snort.

"Probably." They settled into a comfortable silence. It was nice, if Mari was being honest. Too many people she knew felt like they had to fill the silence, even when they had nothing to say. As the minutes ticked by though, she started to get nervous. Cass obviously noticed.

"We don't have to, if you don't want to." Mari started at her voice. God, she needed to not be so high strung.

"It's not that... honestly, this whole thing is just a bit bizarre. It would have made more sense for you to have slapped me. I'm just... trying to make sense of things." Mainly because, in her personal life, she wasn't this lucky. Then again, Cass was from America, so this probably wouldn't lead anywhere. And that thought made her realize that so far, she did want this to go somewhere. Great.

"I don't think there's a lot of people here that would slap a beautiful woman for kissing them." Mari felt like her face was on fire. This woman, her seriously could be a model, thought she was beautiful? Yep, crush officially formed. Shit.

"That still doesn't excuse my bad behavior. I shouldn't have taken out my frustration with Alya on other people. My being pissed off that she never actually listens to me is no reason to do what I did."

"I don't know. She seemed to get the message." Mari just sighed.

"Maybe. That or I'll be getting an extremely long lecture about embarrassing her tomorrow." Probably the second. Might be a good idea to find somewhere else to crash after the party. And figure out when Alya was set to leave London so she could avoid her until then. She loved her, but she was beyond sick of the whole Adrien thing.

"She should stop talking and start listening." Mari let out a giggle.

"Can't say I disagree, but I don't see it happening. Alya's extremely stubborn about certain things."

"If you're not willing to make excuses for your bad behavior, you shouldn't make them for hers, either." Mari blinked at her before letting out a huff.

"In theory that's true. But I can't control her actions, only mine." Cass let out another hum. Before she could say anything, people inside started counting down.

10

Oh dear Kwami, this was really happening, wasn't it?

9

Maybe it was a trick. Cass' way of getting back at her for what she did.

8

No. The way she was looking at Mari... she was actually going to do this.

7

Come on, Mari. It's just a kiss.

6

A kiss from someone with the softest lips she'd ever felt, but just a kiss.

5

Okay. Her heart felt like it was about to explode. She might actually pass out.

4

No. She is not going to create another scene tonight. She just needed to breath.

3

When did Cass get so close?

2

What if she was disappointed in the kiss? Mari was pretty confident in her abilities, but she had no idea what kind of experience Cass had.

1

What if she wasn't disappointed? What were they going to do then?

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Cass closed the distance, and Mari just closed her eyes. Yep, definitely the softest lips ever. She was going to have to ask how she managed that. When Cass deepened the kiss, Mari's brain completely short-circuited. This. This is what home was supposed to feel like. She was so screwed.

When Cass pulled back, it took her a minute to remember to breathe. When she finally opened her eyes, she was on the receiving end of the softest look she'd ever seen. Suddenly, Gotham was looking like a better idea. Surely she could do some good there. She forgot how to breathe again when Cass cupped her cheek and ran her thumb over Mari's bottom lip.

"Happy New Year." The words were as soft as her look and Mari, for once, thought that for once, it actually was a good start to what was looking to be the best year she'd had in a long time. Even if it hadn't been her plan.

[angelicjungwon]

heeseung - enemies to lovers kinda thing

plot: you and heeseung are at the same uni, sharing the same classes and exchanging glances every chance you get.

you hated him, he hated you. it was a mutual feeling, at least that‘s what you thought.

but one party and a few drinks changed it all.

word count: 1089

tw: heeseung being mean, suggestive talk (tiniest bit), university & classes lmao, alcohol, idk if i forgot something

—

There he was again, sitting right where you were able to see him. He wasn’t listenting to the lecture, all he was doing was staring at you and pretending to take notes.

You knew he never studied or took notes, this man was not only gifted with his looks but also with a great memory. He didn‘t need notes or books, all he had to do was listening to watch the professor said once and it was embedded in his brain.

He was your ideal type to be exact. He was smart, handsome, tall, had a great fashion sense and he loved tea, coffee and books as much as you did.

You have met him way too many times at your favourite café but you avoided him.

You two rarely exchanged words, only if needed to.

The reason you disliked each other was easy - you two liked each other but your pride was too high to accept it.

He was known to be a player, at least rumors made him to be and you hated player with a passion but that was not the only reason.

He once made a remark to his friend group, stating that he‘d never in a million years go out with someone like you.

Usually it wouldn’t hurt you hear a man say that, of course it‘s a little off putting but you knew well enough that it usually comes from men who are insecure, however him saying that kinda hurt, considering that he never really talked to you before.

He was making you lose your mind and focus, every class you attended your focus was on him and him only.

"You‘re staring at Heeseung again." Your friend Jungwon said, shaking your shoulder a little. "But this time in disgust, stop it, it looks weird." He added, making you chuckle. "Why does he keep looking at me if he thinks I‘m so ugly."

You muttered under your breath, your eyes not leaving Heeseung.

"I don‘t know, go ask him yourself." Jungwon chuckled and pushed your head to face the tutor. "You look desperate…"

And with that, you only side eyed him for the rest of the lesson before heading out once it was over, deciding to get coffee at your favourite local café while reading over the notes you made during class.

"Stalking me, hm?" A familiar voice asked, you looked up and rolled your eyes. "You wish." You mumbled, facing your notes again. The person you least wanted to see right now, Heeseung himself.

"Jake is having a party at his parents place, they‘re out of town. You should come." He said, handing you a piece of paper with the address. "Why would I?" You asked, making him laugh. "Jungwon said he won’t come if we don‘t invite you. Be a good friend and just stay for at least an hour. I haven’t talked to him in ages, I wanna catch up a little." He said, causing you to roll your eyes at him.

"I‘ll think about it."

And with that you sat in your dorm room, staring at the blank wall of your non-existent roommate. You enjoyed that you were alone, you‘d dislike it more if you had someone in your room every single day and lets not forget, that if you ever felt lonely, Jungwon would spend the night over, telling you all about his dance practices.

You took out your phone to text him, letting him know you‘ll join him on his way to the party, making sure to mention that it was only for an hour and that you two will leave as fast as possible.

Well, let‘s say, the plan did not work out, as two hours later, you were on Jake‘s couch, a little too tipsy, talking to Sunghoon, a friend of Jake, about the most weirdest things possible. It began with eating habits and now turned into 'imagine you could drink soup with your butthole' kinda conversations.

"Are you and Jungwon a couple?" Heeseung said as he took a seat next to you, handing you a cup of whatever alcoholic drink it was.

"Nope, we‘re just friends, no worries, you have Jungwon all to yourself." You replied sarcastically, taking a sip from the cup in your hand as you turned your attention back to Sunghoon.

His eyes never left you, however whenever he did turn away, your eyes didn‘t leave him. Every once in a while you two caught each other staring, however once you two had enough alcohol in your blood, it almost turned into a staring contest. You were in one corner for the room, he was in another, eyes never leaving each other.

You both clearly had the same thought process in that moment, the tension was so intense, everyone else was able to feel it as well.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone, his closest friends new he wanted you the day he met you. He couldn’t stop talking about you and once they asked why he didn’t just ask you out, he‘d find excuse like 'not my type' or 'not interested' but everyone knew that he was just too butthurt about the fact that you didn‘t swarm over him like everyone else did.

That was his way of coping, they supposed.

"Heeseung stop staring at (y/n), just go ask-" before Jake could finish his sentence, Heeseung was already on his way over to you.

"I know you want me." He said, leaning over to you, causing you to laugh. "More like, you want me. I see you eyeing me down from back there." He smirked at your response, he did want you.

"Fuck you‘re right." He mumbled, staring at your lips before licking his own. "You have no idea how much I want you, love." He added, eyes back on yours.

"But as much as I do, I would prefer to have this conversation again once we‘re both sober. As the gentleman I am, I‘d like my partners to not be intoxicated before I make any moves. Gotta make sure everything is consensual." He exhaled, unlocking his phone before handing it to you.

"How about you and I get coffee after class on Monday?" He suggested, making you smile.

"Mhm, sounds good to me." You replied, typing your number in his phone before handing it back.

"And bring a list of your favourite books and songs at the moment, I‘d love to get to know you." He winked before leaning back on the couch, getting involved in everyone‘s normal conversations again.

[luck-and-larceny]

FFXIV Write: Morsel

Marrant’s first and second love is himself. His third love is also himself. But somewhere a little way after that is music. 

Those are qualities we share, I suppose.

Where we disagree is on the topic of image. Marrant cannot rest until he proves to the world that he's every bit as important, intelligent and talented as he fully believes himself to be. He is certain he's a divine gift sent from the Twelve themselves to be idolized and admired by an adoring public. The problem comes when he encounters people who do not realize this. These ungrateful fools cause him to lose sleep, for if there is even one person who might doubt his capability he tosses and turns in bed, fully consumed by a gnawing need to prove them wrong. 

I cannot even begin to comprehend that. To me, it's more fun to be regarded differently by different people. I thrive as much off people hating me as I do them adoring me. 

So when Marrant tells me that he needs me to steal Audr Shade’s latest musical composition because it will win this year's competition I'm not surprised. He could never handle people thinking someone else's work was better than his own (though it often was). 

I am surprised when Marrant tells me that he needs me to also rob his place of the composition he was going to submit to the competition because, “It's not good enough and I won't embarrass myself by letting them hear it. But I also won't embarrass myself by not submitting it.”

“But you will embarrass yourself by asking your ex-girlfriend– who we've already established hates you and you hate in return– to steal it from you? Why not just say it was stolen?”

He rolls his eyes to make it clear to me that he's already considered that and he's disappointed that I can't keep up with his superior intellect.

“Unless it looks like it was actually stolen they'll see through it. They'll gossip amongst themselves that I made the whole robbery up because I was too ashamed to admit my incompetence. Despicable little cretins.”

“Oh, absolutely,” I agree, “It's so hard to find good, honest people to take you at your word these days while you're hiring thieves to wreck your home so you can save face in a stupid little music contest.”

His eyes light up with rage. Uh oh. That means a boring lecture will soon rain down upon me. 

“It's NOT a ‘stupid little music’ contest. The fact that I need to tell you that says so much about you and your lack of culture. All these years later and you still don't care about the things that matter, do you?”

“Nah,” I agree, “You need this done tonight, right? I'll need addresses…”

“The Gridanian Songwriting Competition is the most innovative and creative music celebration in all of Eorzea–”

“Wouldn't know it from the name,” I interrupt, “They use up all the innovation and creativity budget before getting to that?”

He ignores me. That's probably the right call. “Every important name in music and aspiring artist attends the competition. The winner becomes the most respected name in music for the entire year. As a professional musician there is no greater honor than to be acknowledged by the committee. If you spent half as much time on your music as you do skulking about, breaking windows and shoplifting–”

“Then I wouldn't be able to save you from utter humiliation at this contest by robbing you. So really, thank the Twelve I'm such an uncultured child, right?” 

He sniffs and says nothing because he knows I'm right. I'll savor this tiny victory crumb.

“Audr Shade is a genius. A musical genius.” It is a great struggle for Marrant to form these words and if I didn't despise him so much I might even pity him. Instead, I relish this. This is delicious.

“But he's also a heathen,” he says. “He is rude, uncouth, undignified and undeserving of the award.”

“Sounds like my kind of guy,” I reply.

“You'd like him,” he admits with a shrug. “But I still need you to steal that music if you want information on the Tempest Tapestry.”

“I steal from a lot of people I like,” I casually shrug back. 

“You're a terrible person,” he says and I don't disagree. Instead, I take down the address and make my plans to rob the musical genius and this insufferable bore tonight.

I might be a bad person, but at least I won't be a bored one.

[kaigarax]

Sometimes, All I Think About Is You

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Quote: "Openly fall in love."

First Encounters

The first time Satoru Gojo sees you is when the two of you are just kids. He’s a boy just about to attend Eton Academy and you’re a young girl who’s just begun to learn the difference between men and women.

Satoru’s parents, citing his lack of friends (his only friend being the young stable boy around his age) and hoping to acquaint him with some ‘proper’ company. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. So, being the ever doting parents that the Gojo’s claim to be they set up a playdate with the family of the viscounts that live close by.

A family of six, if Satoru isn’t mistaken.

The Viscount and his wife, two twin boys around his age and two girls about five and seven years younger respectively.

Satoru finds your older brothers awfully boring. One of them, Satoru thinks, certainly has to be the dumbest person he’s ever met and the other is the most aloof. Such a pair that Satoru is almost a little worried about what might happen next to the Viscount's family in the future and he rarely ever cares about others.

Satoru doesn’t try very hard to get along with the two boys. He lets them show him around briefly, he even plays a couple of games of croquet before disappearing into the manner with the excuse of looking for the bathroom. With any luck, the two of them might forget about him long enough for the remainder of this horrible playdate to end and he can finally leave.

Truth be told, Satoru has always been a little different from the other people around him. Always seen the world a little differently from everyone else. It was almost as if everyone else stumbled around in a world of black and white while he was the only one that could see in colour. The only person who ever came close to understanding him was Suguru Geto, the stable boy and son of his family’s butler. And while it was frowned upon to make friends with the ‘help’ it would be the first time that Satoru could just be… himself.

The young boy could barely even find it within himself to feel bad as he abandoned your twin brother to wander the house. Sure, he’d been given a tour earlier but that had mostly been a quick look around. Satoru hadn’t gotten the chance to actually look at things in the detail that he wanted to.

His eyes wandered from the old curtains, which oddly reminded Satoru of his mother’s dresses, to the long line of photos left to hang up on the wall. Family portraits, Satoru thinks. All the people look vaguely familiar to one another with a familiar resemblance in the eyes and smiles. Satoru’s own family had something similar though the paintings are ones of the patriarch rather than of the entire family.

“It took the painter three weeks to paint that one.” You say.

Satoru isn’t surprised, he had heard you come in, but he feigns surprise. Suguru had told him that it was better to pretend to act normal around other people if he wanted them to like him. He had always found that annoying and pretentious but he would do what he had to in polite society. Especially if it meant he wouldn’t have to hear another lecture from his parents.

You look to be a couple years younger than Satoru as he turns to look at you. Five years give or take one or two in either direction. You’re a small thing, well small compared to him. You’re draped in a cool summer dress while Satoru personally thinks that spring is much too early. There also happens to be pins attached at the edges of the dress reminding him of his own fitting session that he would have to attend later on in the week.

Satoru hates attending fitting sessions. Doesn't see why he always needs to be wearing clothes that fit perfectly, especially because he seems to need to head there at least once every two months now that he’s begun growing. He doesn’t see why he can’t just wear clothes that are a little too big or too small for a little while like Suguru.

You take a step towards him, your eyes never lingering too long on him. Satoru’s always being scolded by his mother for staring at one thing for too long or not keeping eye contact long enough but you seem to have mastered the timing of the gaze perfectly. It’s both polite and respectful.

It absolutely infuriates Satoru.

You regard him with a calm expression that has him forgetting that you’re the younger of the two.

“I see you’ve abandoned the company of my brother.” You state.

Satoru points his nose up, “what of it?”

“It was merely an observation. I meant no harm.”

He then scrunches his face up as he leans down to stare at you. He has to lean down quite far considering you’re short. Though, admittedly you are five years younger than him and he’s tall for his age.

He notices that you’re holding a book behind your back fiddling around the edges of the page self consciously. Satoru had never been a big fan of reading, especially when he was around your age. He’d rather be outside play-wrestling with Suguru or doing some other physical activity or sport. He’d always been very good at physical things.

Admittedly, Satoru thinks you're pretty. Much better looking than your two brothers. So much so that he briefly wonders if the three of you are even related in the first place. If not for the same shape of the eyes, Satoru would have been certain that you were merely children that lived in the same house instead of siblings.

He still thinks that might be the case.

You’ll probably be pretty when you grow up. Perhaps not nearly as pretty as his mother but he’s certain you’ll be… charming? Well, at the very least you won’t be ugly. Especially if you end up taking after your mother. Satoru never really cared much for how pretty other people are but he has always considered himself a good judge.

Finally, Satoru pulls away, “you’re annoying.”

“If you’re attempting to insult me you’re going to have to try a little harder,” you say, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your lips, “I have two older brothers.”

“And you’re weird.” Huffed Satoru.

Your calm smile turns from calm to amused, “so are you.” Your lips move up more and your eyes seem to linger for just a moment longer on Satoru’s own.

Satoru’s jaw is dropped before he can even realise that it has. Not only is it the first time someone has so brazenly insulted him (not including Suguru) but it’s both the first time a woman (girl) has insulted him and someone younger than him has dared to treat him as an equal. Even most adults didn’t have the guts to bring themselves up to Satoru’s level unless they too stood in the same position as his parents.

But you.

Annoying and weird you are standing there in front of him as if you’re friends joking about a funny joke you just told. Perhaps you do think it’s a joke - which would only further prove to Satoru that you’re weird.

An older woman (likely your Nurse) runs into the room, her expression worried. She quickly bows to Satoru, “sorry, My Lord. The little missy here seems to have a mind of her own most of the time.” She turns to you with a harsh look, “did you say anything to insult the young Lord?”

Satoru expects you to roll your eyes or look away like any normal child would do. Thought maybe you might’ve stomped away angrily or made a face at him when your Nurse wasn’t looking.

Instead, your eyes soften and you smile fondly at your nurse, “I wasn’t on my best behaviour,” you calmly admitted.

Your Nurse sighs as she continues to reprimand you.

Satoru, on the other hand, is left a little shocked and speechless. He isn’t quite sure what happened but the wheels in his hand do begin turning and his heart starts to beat a little faster. He wonders if you can see the colours too.

---

A Conversation

Satoru Gojo comes to the conclusion that, after a while of getting to know you, yes you do see colours just not in the same way that he does. Your skills lie not in a brilliant way to dissect numbers nor demonstrate the ability to memorize new information or pick up skills at the drop of a hat like how he can but there’s nothing about you that can be considered ordinary either.

He heads over to your house at least once a week for the next two years. Not because he wants to, of course, but because his parents have stopped with the lectures about not hanging out with Suguru when he gives into their wishes and spends time at your house. And, sure, your older brother is awfully boring and dull but it gives him the chance to get to know you better. The strangely entertaining and endearing little girl who’s intelligence rivals his own.

It sucks that you don’t actually ever linger around when Satoru is there. You obediently listen to your brothers when they ask you to head elsewhere and you rarely ever spare Satoru a second glance unless Satoru goes out to seek you himself; and even you refuse to spend time with him unless he’s entertaining your brothers.

He notices that you’re an avid reader, always holding a new text in your hand every week. Satoru just knows that his parents wish that they had a child like you. So obedient to your elders and caretakers. So well mannered and thoughtful plus you seem intelligent and well read. He bets that you would have been named heir over your two older brothers if you too had been born a man.

You’re so mature for your age and perhaps that is what Satoru likes about you best.

He doesn’t have to go out of his way to entertain you or have to explain himself when he says something strange or different.

It simply just is.

It takes Satoru exactly two years to figure out why exactly he likes you so much. To come to all those conclusions above and finally get close enough to you that the two of you can consider one another as friends. It’s unfortunate that by then his visits stop as he begins school at Eton’s Academy for Boys. Higher education where any worth a damn in high society attends.

It sucks that he won’t be able to see you much anymore but what can Satoru do against the adamant wishes of his parents?

At least Suguru will be attending with him.

Suguru isn’t you but he’s one of the only people that actually understand him so it won’t be that bad.

You make his heart race and his stomach feel all fuzzy.

But it isn’t until several years later, when you’re a debutant freshly minted and prepared for your first season, that Satoru realises why.

It had been years since he’d last seen you.

Obviously, he knew that you were going to change. People always changed, both physically and mentally, but he just wasn’t ready for how different you looked. Hadn’t been as prepared for the change as he thought he was.

He’d always known that you would grow up to be pretty but this pretty? It wasn’t what he had been expecting.

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to you.

He knows that you must be the diamond of the season. It would simply be a crime not to. In fact, Satoru himself would march right up to the Queen himself and demand an explanation as to why you were not named the diamond.

Satoru floats through conversations, half of his attention on the conversation at hand and the other half wishing he was speaking to you. You always know the right thing to say to make him smile and he never has to bend over backwards trying to charm you. He knows you already like him exactly as he is. Flaws and all.

It’s unfortunate that his conversation with you ends almost as quickly as it begins.

You’re quickly swept away by some other gentlemen - your dance card full of potential suitors.

It annoys Satoru greatly though he isn’t quite sure why. Obviously, Satoru knows that he enjoys your company and he likes being around you so he’s angry that other people are taking your attention… right? That’s the reason. What else could it be?

Satoru’s thoughts were interrupted with a sharp elbow to his side as he exclaimed quietly, “hey!”

“You were pouting.” Suguru says.

“Was not.”

“Oh, you definitely were.”

Satoru grumbles to himself, annoyed.

Suguru chuckles quietly in response.

“What do you think of (Y/n)?” Satoru asked suddenly.

Suguru ponders briefly, “she’s a little like you.”

“Really?” Satoru raises a brow curiously, “I personally thought she was more like you.”

“How so?”

“She’s good at understanding other people and she cares an awful lot more about what other people think about her than she lets on.”

Suguru hums thoughtfully, “everyone cares about what everyone thinks.”

“I don’t.”

“That’s because you’re weird.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” Suguru gives Satoru a closed eye smile, “you’re weird but not super weird. A little weird.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, “like that’s so much better.”

“Let me put it this way,” Suguru explains, “you don’t care about what everyone thinks but you care about the thoughts of people that are important to you.”

“Isn’t that how everyone should think.”

“Oh, most certainly.”

Satoru knows that Suguru is mostly just entertaining him at this point. His words always have some hidden meaning to them (that Satoru is usually too lazy to dissect) but there are points when he simply says something to entertain Satoru. Suguru has always been thoughtful like that; it’s one of the reasons why Satoru has always liked him so much.

He thinks that that might be why he likes you too.

You make his heart race and his stomach feel all fuzzy.

But it isn’t until several years later, when you’re a debutant freshly minted and prepared for your first season, that Satoru realises why.

---

The Moment

Satoru is surprised when he sees you sitting by yourself early one spring morning.

Staring off into the distance in the middle of a hill that floats down into a lake.

Fluffs of dandelion seeds float around haphazardly in the air. Almost like snowflakes amidst the cool spring air. The melodic chirping of birds fills the air, though Satoru personally has never been a fan. Many of his classmates had written poems about the birds before. Talking about flight and freedom alongside a musicality that comes so naturally to them compared to humans.

It’s unusual for women, especially young girls who are in search of a husband, to head outside by themselves where any man could just stumble upon them without a chaperone. Satoru bets that you had woken up bright and early just so that you might be able to have a moment alone.

He almost feels a little bad to intrude on your moment alone.

He imagines you don’t get very many.

But he approaches you nonetheless. His heart tugs him towards you much like how a child pulls their parents down the aisles of a candy store. Eager and excited.

“(Y/n)~” Satoru says your name sweetly, liking the way it flows off of his tongue so easily. Thinks that it tastes so much better than some of the sweetest things he’s whispered to others.

You don’t bother turning to look at him as you would have done if this had taken place in the presence of others, “My Lord.”

“Satoru.”

“You really do love saying your name,” you tease, as he takes a seat beside you. He makes a face as the bottom of his pants get wet from the damp grass upon contact. His usual reaction would have been to jump up and scowl. He usually hates any uncomfortable feeling and does anything he can to avoid any such sensations but forces himself to bear with it as your warm shoulder brushes against his own. Well the sleeve of your dress brushes up against the dress-shirt but this is close enough for him. Besides, his pants are already wet now so he can bear with it for a little longer.

The two of you stare off into the distance, staring at the lake.

Satoru notices that you’re still in your nightgown. It’s light and flowy, similar to the clothes you used to wear when you were young. Hot stuffy dresses are what’s most popular now in women’s fashion and being a proper lady of good origins you do your diligence in following the fashion trends. Strangely though, the thought of your subtle acts of rebellion bring a smile to his face. It’s so subtle and detached from the main parts of society yet so much louder than you’ll ever realise.

He bets that your mother would be furious if she found that you were outside and alone with an unmarried man. Furious if you came back with the bottom of your dress soaked from the morning dew and rain.

You probably don’t care though.

Your attention is much better spent on the lake in front of you. (Satoru personally thinks that your attention would be even better spent on him.)

He doesn’t bother to look at the lake he’s already seen hundreds of times in his life.

This is where he and Suguru used to play pirates. Where he’d first been tossed into the lake when the two of them were horsing around and where he had crawled out of angrily. Where he’d caught his first frog and made his first (mud) painting.

This was the lake of his childhood that he loved oh so dearly.

But right now, he found that he’d rather look at you.

The baby fat you had on your cheeks back before he had left for Eton is gone. It makes you look more mature. Less like the girl that made fun of him and more into the woman that would send light teases his way. Makes you seem less like the girl who always carried around picture books and into a young woman that reads intellectual novels that dive into the human.

He’s a little sad. He had quite a fondness for the young girl that managed to make him mad with the single raise of an eyebrow. It’s almost like the loss of someone important to him. Someone he didn’t know that he would miss as much and a version of you that he would never get to say goodbye to.

But, he finds that he has a fondness for the you that’s sitting beside him now.

He wouldn’t go as far as saying that he likes this version more than the young child you but he would admit that this version was much more… exciting to be around. Almost like a mystery that he was working to solve.

A smile pulls at his lips when he notices a book in your lap.

“What’re you reading?” Satoru asks, pointing to the book in your lap.

You brush the cover of the book gently, “Pride and Prejudice.”

“Suguru read that book once.”

“Have you?”

“No. Besides, Suguru said it was just a boring romance novel for women anyways. Says nothing that we don’t already know.”

You smile as you nudge him playfully, “do you let Lord Suguru’s opinions dictate all of your own decisions, My Lord?”

“No,” Satoru pouts, “but I’ve never liked reading much anyways. It’s easier to let him do the reading first. He knows what I do and don’t like. Besides, I don’t want to waste my time reading something I wouldn’t even like.”

Finally, you turn to look at him. To the untrained eye it would be a look of indifference. But to Satoru, your self proclaimed childhood best friend, your expression is one of amusement. From the way your eyes crinkle in the corners slightly to how you sit up more straight ever so slightly and the subtle twitch of your lips. Plus, the most obvious and dead give away to anything, your eyes. They look at him, lingering on his face for a moment longer than they linger on anyone else's as you respond with a soft, “and what do you like to read, My Lord?”

“Comedies usually.”

“Like?”

“Twelfth Night.”

You raise a brow delicately, “Shakesphere?”

Satoru places a hand on his chest, feigning offence, “are you implying that you think I wouldn’t like the works of one of the greatest writers and minds of our time?”

“Oh, I’d never, my Lord,” you eyes crinkle in the corners, “I was simply surprised. Most men I speak with prefer something more contemporary like Wordsworth or perhaps something practical and sensible like a book on agriculture or architecture. They consider things like Shakesphere to be mere entertainment.”

“So then are you implying that you think I have the taste of a woman?”

“And who would you consider yourself akin to then, my Lord? Duke Ceasiro?”

Satoru makes a face.

You chuckle softly in response, “you must admit, the two of you share a certain resemblance.”

“I am insulted on every level, (Y/n).”

“I’m sure you are.”

“I am!” Satoru exclaims, waving his arms above his head, “I am most like the honourable Sebastian.”

“Ah yes, Viola’s twin brother.”

Satoru nods.

“Well, he’s certainly an opportunist.”

“Would you not marry a beautiful woman that you just met and is seemingly in love with you?”

You hum softly as you ponder on the idea.

Satoru remembers how he had dragged Suguru to the play house that day. He had originally gone because there was a particular woman that he wanted to promenade with after but had actually found the show to be quite enjoyable. Suguru was absolutely furious with him but even he had a few chuckles at some moments.

“What was your favourite part about Twelfth Night?” You ask, leaning against him.

“The love triangle.”

“Well, it certainly isn’t the traditional kind of love triangle.”

“A true love triangle, I’d say.”

“The kind you’d like to find yourself in?” You tease.

Satoru shrugs in response.

From where Satoru sat he could see a small group of birds gathering around. They reminded him a bit of the Ton. So easily swept up into a single moment and conversation without much consideration about the world around them. Much thought and consideration is never put into everything else that this world has to offer.

“What kind of stuff do you like to read?” Satoru asks.

You smile, “you mean apart from the book in my hand?” Satoru can tell from the way you lean back away from him with a gleam in your eyes that you’re teasing him.

So he decides to tease you back.

He leans in towards you with a grin, “you and I both know you’re only reading that because it’s popular. It’s not what you actually like to read.”

“And what do you think I like to read?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I knew the answer.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, Satoru.”

He beams brightly when you say his name.

“The last thing I read for my own enjoyment was, Thomas De Quincey’s, Confessions of an Opium Eater.”

Satoru’s jaw drops, “the drug addict poet?”

“Most writers struggle with addiction.”

“What do you like about De Quincey’s works?”

“He wrote quite a particularly thought provoking piece about the human mind. Looking into the subconscious.”

“Oh?”

“He writes, ‘dreams are the unconscious mind finishing the halted thoughts of the conscious.’”

“A Romantic for sure.”

You beam, “oh, most definitely.”

Satoru thinks that this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile in such a way. If he weren’t already sitting he would have fallen flat on the ground. His heart would have stopped in his chest and he likely would have fallen to the ground and died only then to be once again revived by your beauty.

He thinks that this is where humanity must have peaked. That there will never again be someone that looks as beautiful as you do when you’re smiling. That no one will ever hold such a place in his heart that you do.

He leans towards you with a lovesick smile, “I’m going to marry you.”

You cough a little, “excuse me?”

His smile doesn’t falter, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Why me?”

“You understand me.”

“Hm?”

“You see the world in a way that everyone else doesn’t and you see me for who I am. Not who everyone else thinks that I should be.”

“My Lord-”

“Satoru.” He corrects.

“Satoru,” you lean away, “don’t you think you’re being a little hasty? We’ve barely even had a full conversation since you came back from school.”

“And?”

“You barely know who I am.” You look hesitant, the mask you always wear slipping as if you’ve never worn it before.

He takes your hand before you can bolt off (he hopes that it comforts you the same way it comforts him), “I know that you understand my loneliness. You know how it feels like for the whole world to want you to be a certain way. You’ve perfected the way of living from the way you move to the smile on your face to be exactly what society expects of you.” He feels as though his heart is beating a million beats a minute.

Your expression shifts a little.

Going from hesistance -

- to surprise.

And then suddenly Satoru doesn’t know what it is that you’re exactly thinking right now. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this expression on you and it worries him a little. His heart is fluttering in anticipation.

Satoru doesn’t think he’s ever been in such an uncomfortable situation before.

Well… there was that one time where Suguru had hidden Satoru’s favourite riding helmet as payback for something stupid he said earlier. In an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t bothered, Satoru had gone off with a different helmet and messed up almost everything. Nothing seemed right. His horse, even though it was his favourite steed that he had ridden since he was a boy, just wasn’t listening the way it usually did. He actually almost fell off his horse twice (and actually did fall off once while in the middle of getting on).

Yeah, Satoru thinks, this feeling is a little something like that.

“Satoru.” You hold his hand tightly.

“Hm?”

“Be here with me.”

“I am here.”

“Stay in the moment with me,” you say softly, “your mind keeps drifting elsewhere.”

Satoru’s heart flutters as he smiles down at you fondly, “okay.”

Yeah.

He’s most definitely falling in love with you.

No.

He has fallen in love with you.

He’s going to marry you.

Openly, fall in love.

[andreal831]

the subtle racism portrayed by Julie Plec and TVDU (especially Klaroline fans) fans as well towards Michael Trevino (Tyler Lockwood) is something that will always irk my soul. Both the actor and the character were done SO BADLYYYYYY. I know that since Tyler is written as a white character, technically his writing wasn’t “racist”, but I have reason to believe that Julie may have written him the way she did due to her issues with Michael Trevino.

What do you think about Tyler Lockwood? I think he definitely is one of the characters with the most potential besides Bonnie, etc. Most of the POC in the show (actors/characters) had the most potential and were sidelined.

IN FACT, I can say the same about Enzo! Yeah, Enzo St John is a canonically white character, but Michael Malarkey is a mixed race man (Italian/Palestinian-Lebanese), and we know how Julie is towards POC.

Like I’m not trying to blame all the bad writing on racism and discrimination, but all the POC actors/characters have shitty storylines and a lot of them are racist.

Lucy, Sarah Salvatore (the black Salvatore), Enzo, Tyler, Marcel, Vincent, Bonnie, Qetsiyah, etc.

Coincidence?

Whenever I discuss race, I do want to preface it by saying, I am white so I am speaking from that point of view. If you disagree or have another perspective, I would love to hear it.

That being said, I don't even think we can call what happened on the set and in the show "subtle" racism. There was such overt racism throughout the show that it is hard to discuss the show in any way without discussing racism. Just because Julie Plec doesn't view her actions as blatantly racist, it doesn't mean they are not.

Just the fact that they had two actors who are ethically not white but were portrayed as white is telling. Both Michael Trevino and Michael Malarkey were made to appear white in the show when there really wasn't a necessity for it. Tyler being Mexican could have added to the history of the wolves or it could have even come from his mom's side, allowing them to cast a Latina woman. For Malarkey, his race isn't really discussed but it would have been so easy to show him making Bonnie a nice Lebanese meal when they were staying at the cabin (cause lord knows the zionists running the show wouldn't allow him to be Palestinian). I also personally just like Tyler and Enzo more than Damon. I would have been fine with killing Damon off earlier to allow more screen time for them.

A year or so ago, my friend began watching the show for the first time and by the time we got to The Originals, as soon as Sabine walked on screen, she said "Does she get killed this episode?" People of color, especially women of color, were treated as disposable by the network. To the point that Tyler and Enzo likely only survived as long as they did because they were "white" characters. But it is also still obvious how much worse they were treated than any other side characters. Tyler and Enzo are both killed in such nonsensical ways and then they have no justice or even mourning. Tyler was a lifelong friend of the Mystic Falls gang and yet Damon isn't even sternly lectured for killing him for zero reason. Tyler had escaped the supernatural world. What was the point of dragging him back on the show just to kill him and have Damon suffer no consequences. He was Caroline's first epic love and she just forgives Damon for it? And what was the point of Enzo's death? Just to make Bonnie suffer more? Just to make her attend the wedding of his murderer? I know Stefan had his humanity off, but that doesn't change the fact that Enzo was dead and Bonnie was still grieving.

Moving on to how the fandom treats them. There is honestly so much hate in this fandom sometimes, and you're right, there is definitely a racial element to it. The way Tyler is treated by the fandom is so telling. I don't know if a lot of the fandom even knows Michael Trevino's ethnicity, but he is clearly seen as "other" or "less than" by the fandom. We also have to acknowledge how his "angry outbursts" are seen as unacceptable but when Klaus does it, it is because he is just so "passionate." The scene where Caroline keeps pushing Tyler to forgive her for sleeping with his mother's killer comes to mind. He snaps but he makes no move to touch her, and this is after repeatedly telling her to leave and her pushing his boundaries. I have seen the fandom call him "disgusting" and an "abuser" because of this, celebrating the fact that Stefan punches him. Stefan uses physical violence against Tyler's words, yet Tyler is the abuser? Then we have, Klaus, who runs her through with a coat hanger and bites her because she said something slightly rude to him and he is praised for "saving her life." It's hard to believe there isn't a racial element here. I often say Klaus gets pretty privilege, but why isn't that awarded to Tyler? Because we can't deny that Michael Trevino is attractive (I'd say more attractive than Joseph Morgan but y'all will come for me).

There was so much left of Tyler's story. The fact that they even had the Lockwoods as the protectors of Inadu's bones in TO would have been a perfect way to bring him back. Can you imagine Hayley or Klaus having to go beg him for help? It would have been such an amazing moment. But no, instead they bring Matt Davis onto the show to make sure he could infect every single spinoff.

You mention all of these characters and that's just in TVD. TO was no better. One of my mutuals recently got into a Twitter 'discussion' with one of the writers and the writer attempted to claim that the Mikaelsons were white supremacists and that was the point of TO, to show it was bad. Yet, when did they do that? How did they show being a white supremacist is bad? The Mikaelsons were at the top of the food chain the entire time. Yes, they constantly had people coming for them, yet they always won and the writing was always done in a way to make the audience root for them to win. How many POC characters were sacrificed in order to prop up the main characters throughout the shows?

Whenever we talk about racism in the show, we have to talk about Bonnie. Bonnie was constantly having to sacrifice her own wants and happiness in order for her white friends, and even enemies, to get what they want. Often when she set a boundary, the fandom villainized her. According to the writing and the fandom, her entire purpose was to serve the white characters. That is blatant racism.

But it's not just Bonnie. It's her entire ancestry. The fandom seems to believe Emily is Katherine's friend in the flashbacks, but she is clearly either being enslaved or at least some type of servant to Katherine. We can go all the way back to Ayana who Esther stole her spell to create the vampires. Or to Qetsiyah who was cheated on and used in order to aid the white doppelgangers. These things separately may not raise any flags, but the fact that we see it happen repeatedly throughout the show tells us it's more than just a coincidence.

Let's not forget Damon was not a confederate solider in the books. Julie added that. And yes I know he deserted but he says it is basically because he was missing Katherine, not because he morally opposed what he was fighting for. They added the founding families and yet didn't make the Bennetts apart of it even though they had been there longer than anyone. They were actively celebrating slave owners. Tyler's mom makes a passing comment of why they have the chains in the cellars and everyone just moves on. They chose to have the Mikaelsons live on a plantation in New Orleans. They chose to hire a very white cast and make it even whiter by white washing and killing off POCs.

Sure TVD is set in Virginia, but Virginia is only 65% white. So why was the cast 99% white? Then they create a whole show in New Orleans where 59% of the population is black, yet we still have a majority white cast? And when they introduce POCs it is usually to serve the white cast. Both Vincent and Eva were brought on so there bodies could literally be used by the white characters. Eva and Vincent's trauma were completely neglected and Eva was even killed off to allow Rebekah to use her body as she pleased whenever Claire Holt wasn't available to be on set. I've already discussed the difference in how Aurora is treated versus Celeste by the show and the fandom. You can read that here. Marcel is constantly belittled and sidelined, even after he is upgraded. There are so many witches of color in New Orleans, yet Davina is the most powerful? Why couldn't she have been played by a POC?

The show repeatedly dehumanizes people of color, especially the women. It's not a coincidence. It is pure racism. And because the show does it, the fandom does it. I am not taking responsibility away from the fandom. Each individual person should know better. But media is supposed to influence society. If we grow up with media that glorifies and celebrates different races, cultures, ethnicities, the fandom will begin to as well. Julie had no desire to do that. All she cared about was ratings and her own racist viewpoint of the world. She could have done more research, or hell, even just listened to her cast, but she chose not to. The writing of the show suffered because of it, but even worse the actors and even fans suffer because of it.

There are so many great creators in this fandom who are POCs and I highly suggest following them. They are able to give better insight in the discussion of racism in the show. But please keep in mind, they do not owe you their time or energy. It is up to each of us to do our own research and learn.

Thank you for the ask! I hope I answered it. Sorry it was so long.

[all-pacas]

Would you elaborate on a Chase in The Good Place AU? It's consuming my brain since you mentioned it and I love your AUs

I mean, mostly just an offhand comment on I'd love to have all of them be forced to attend a Chidi philosophy lecture, because it would be fascinating on so many different levels, right? Or just using the Good Place as a shorthand for "surprise! Your life was meaningless and now you're in hell! Change!"

Foreman and Cameron both seem fairly set and certain of their morals and philosophies, but are in different ways hypocritical and inconsistent. They both think of themselves as good people for sure. And I don't know how much critical self reflection either of them do.

Chase is a bit askew of the two of them, not because I think he's much more self aware, but he's also much more morally vague — he doesn't have a ton of stated values or a strict moral code, I'm not even sure how he views himself, how he'd define himself if asked. Cameron would call herself a good person. Foreman would call himself intelligent, a good person. Would Chase? Not out of some enlightened awareness, but just… everyone on the show thinks he's morally vacant, and he knows it too.

(And that's not even touching House or Wilson in the Good Place. House alone, who studies religion and philosophy and both knows his morals and his code and is incredibly ambivalent and self-hating.)

I mean, they're all going to the Bad Place. I think Chase and House would be the least surprised, on a scale: not happy or accepting, but, you know. Sure. (Especially post S6 Chase. He knows he's off to hell.)

Cameron would be horrified, and outraged. She does so much to help people! She's so nice! I think she overlooks or tries to overlook the harm she causes, the ways she can be cruel: they're accidents. They're unintentional. Intent is what matters, and her intents are always good, or at least: she tells herself that they are. Which isn't true. She can behave selfishly, she can behave unkindly. But it's very important to Cameron that she is a good person, both as something to be and something to strive towards. And she is! She is a good person! She does work hard at it! But I do think she ignores her own failings.

Foreman, for his part, strikes me as a utilitarian — he's done net good, so what does it matter if here and there he's bent a rule or hurt someone's feelings? He probably is the one who lies awake and considers himself and his place in the world and how he's doing and what he's done. He wants to be good, but he also wants to be the best, he wants to be admired. (Him and Amber are the same. If they won't like you, you have to be right.) He wants power, partially because he does have that ego; partially because it's a way of proving himself. On the whole, he is a Good Doctor, he Saves Lives, he Helps People. That should outweigh the people he's hurt or been cruel to. That should matter more.

I don't know what sort of philosophy Chase would best fit with. He falls into a sort of … nihilistic hedonism, almost: enjoying himself and wanting to have fun, but only because he also believes that if he's a burden to others he deserves death; because he's Quite Catholic and just sort of accepts when it's over he's going to hell. So what does it matter, right? If he's fucked no matter what, why not sleep around and having a good time? It's sort of a reflection of his talk with House in Cursed: if caring leads to pain, it's better not to care. If you burden others, you have failed.

So they're all in the Bad Place. There was another bus accident or something. And they get to do the fixed version of the game, reincarnating again and again until they reach enlightenment. Foreman's Bad Place seems pretty easy. He's gotta stop caring so much about the opinions of others, getting his self worth via superiority and praise. Cameron's biggest flaw, I think, is that she avoids the consequences from her actions. Runs away and uproots her life repeatedly; ignores the ways she hurts people or ignores their feelings. In a way she's too empathic: she pushes her own feelings and empathy onto others, and assumes they feel the same way she does, need nothing but what she'd need or want. I'm not sure how to make that her personal hell. Chase? He's again the hardest (after House), because I think he'd sort of just accept he was in Hell and that was that: why try to improve? Why try to change? He doesn't try, that's his biggest problem. We know he's incredibly bright, capable of solving cases on his own from early on, but he never tries (because trying means failing which means disappointing others). He stays with House for years after he should have moved on because it's safer and easier. So that's his personal hell: something to make him need to try, want to be better. Put him in a position where he has to.

[fu66sun]

telepath; 이동혁

000 | the first encounters

wc: 1,078 a/n: please keep in mind this one will be a short one since this is just the preface to everything, this is just a base. i hope you are ready, and i hope you like it :))))<3

starting college was no fun. you were not excited, if anything, you were scared as fuck.

getting into one of the top schools in korea without being from that stupid prestigious high school always left you wondering if you’d be enough for it. but it’s not like you didn’t deserve your spot or anything like that. you worked your ass off for it.

the first time you and haechan met was in your freshman year of college. it was during a class, one of the introductory courses required for your majors. the lecture hall was filled with new faces, and as students filed in and took their seats, you found yourself sitting a few rows behind haechan. of course back then you didn’t know who he was, you didn’t even give him a second thought after you sat down.

as the lecture progressed, you found yourself inadvertently drawn into a discussion with haechan. it started with a friendly debate about a topic the professor had introduced, and soon your exchanges evolved into a spirited back-and-forth. you disagreed on almost everything, but your arguments were lighthearted and filled with laughter, at least back then.

the first heated debate between haechan and you revolved around a seemingly innocuous topic: the quality of the movie casino, starring robert de niro. to haechan's surprise, it was one of his favorite films, while you had a strong dislike for it.

all thanks to stupid introductions and ice breakers.

the discussion quickly escalated into a passionate argument, with you vehemently expressing your reasons for despising the movie. you found the plot uninspiring and the characters unrelatable, and you couldn't understand the acclaim it received. your fervent dislike of "casino" was matched only by haechan's unwavering defense of the film.

your exchange was a microcosm of your entire dynamic—two passionate individuals with opposing views, both unwilling to back down. you debated back and forth, your arguments laced with humor, sarcasm, and a touch of flirtatious banter, even if you both vehemently disagreed on the film's quality.

your first debate about casino set the tone for your subsequent interactions, underlining the undeniable chemistry and rivalry that defined your relationship. it was a sign of things to come, as you continued to clash over various topics, finding a unique connection in your differences.

haechan's teasing and mockery during that first semester extended beyond your intellectual sparring. he couldn't resist taking jabs at you for not attending a prestigious high school like many of your classmates. his comments were often laced with a hint of condescension, highlighting the differences in your backgrounds.

you, while proud of your accomplishments and your journey to college, felt a sense of insecurity when haechan made these remarks. you knew you had worked hard to get where you were, but haechan's relentless ribbing about your background touched a nerve. it was a sore point in your dynamic, and it only added to the complex mix of emotions you felt towards him (which where mostly over powered by hate)

haechan's comments about your high school background were a constant reminder of your differences. it fueled your ongoing rivalry and added depth to your relationship, as you navigated not only your intellectual clashes but also the social and personal aspects that set you apart.

in the midst of a discrete mathematics lecture, the professor had just introduced a challenging topic, and the classroom was buzzing with confusion and questions. you and haechan sat a few rows apart, trying to make sense of the complex concepts.

- today, we'll be discussing the concept of mathematical induction, a fundamental principle in discrete mathematics.

as the professor continued, you couldn't help but furrow your brows in concentration, scribbling down notes and attempting to grasp the concept. haechan, on the other hand, was flipping through his notes, looking somewhat uninterested.

that's what you hated the most about him. he was on his phone most of the lectures, never did any of the assignments, yet, he was an ace. you hated that you burned your eyelashes studying daily just for him to not give a damn at all and still (almost) surpass you.

haechan caught a snippet of your mumbling and couldn't resist chiming in, setting the stage for another one of your stupid fights.

- hey, it’s not that complicated. you're making it harder than it needs to be. they taught us this in high school, you should know it. he smirked.

and you, feeling frustrated, couldn’t keep it in.

- haechan, not everything can be solved with intuition and shortcuts. mathematical induction is a precise process that requires rigorous understanding.

their exchange didn't go unnoticed by your classmates, who were used to your ongoing shenanigans.

- here they go again, like clockwork. renjun sighed.

like you, renjun didn't come from a prestigious school and was experiencing some challenges adjusting to your new college environment. you bonded over your shared experiences. you had met him on the first day. he was your deskmate and as much as you tried to avoid each other (not out of hate or spite or anything like that, the both of you were just... shy) you ended up finding each other at classes or in the halls, and when you realized you were already friends.

the professor, aware of your history, decided to intervene.

- y/n, haechan, i appreciate your enthusiasm, but let's not disrupt the class. if you have questions or concerns, please bring them up after the class.

you and haechan, albeit reluctantly, decided to quiet your argument, each continuing to tackle the challenging topic in your own way.

the balance between renjun's comforting presence and haechan's unpredictable nature created a unique and somewhat contradictory dynamic. you couldn't help but be drawn to both of them, in different ways.

and the weird thing was? you ended up hanging out with the two of them most of the time. by some sort of destiny situation, the three of you had lunch together and the instant connection between renjun and haechan was so palpable you wanted to throw up at the sight.

and that's how you ended up stuck with lee haechan from the first moments of college. back then you didn't knew all the chaos and turmoil he would bring into your life, and even if you would have been warned, deep down you knew nothing would have changed. you'd always end up tied down next to him, one way or another.

taglist <;3 @sunflowerhae !! tysmmmmm! dm or send ask to be added <3