#i am of course not saying that the other students or teacher are not worried about satoru

[majikuriboh]

This is what I'm talking about!!!! I would like to thank Yuta and Yuji for showing concern and wanting to jump into in to the fight and help Satoru. as expected from Satoru's kids. like you can clearly see how Yuta and Yuji are soo worried about him. they can't bare watching Satoru!! their teacher being ambushed by three freaking monsters when they can help him.

[cherriegyuu]

so high school | kmg | part 1

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 8.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here a/n: i wanted to write a story that was light, summeryish. it was based off of taylor swift’s song so high school (i’m not that creative with names), i wanted to write that sort of cute romance we all just love. i truly hope you like it, this one is precious to me. thank you to @joonsytip for helping me with this one. please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part two >

If there was one thing you hated about college, it was having to choose electives. For starters, you really didn’t want to be there. You were a good student because you had no choice, not because you absolutely loved college — not that your major was boring and you hated everything about it, but it really did seem like a universal experience to hate your chosen major at some point in college. But the problem was that taking the courses related to your major was hard enough as it was, you didn’t want to have to worry about subjects that might or might not add to what you were studying. Of course, you always tried to choose something that had at least a minimum to do with your major — Art History.

But there were times, like the previous semester when you procrastinated too much to choose one, that it simply wasn’t possible, and you had to put up with classes on Cultural Management. At first, you thought it would be geared towards galleries and the like, but it was something much more specific about public cultural heritage and that wasn’t what you wanted. At least the subject was easy enough. Just reading a few pages of Kira’s notes and listening to half of the lectures was enough to get you through with a high grade.

Trying to be a little smarter, and do something you actually enjoyed doing, you signed up for the semester’s classes as soon as they opened. You were already sitting in front of your computer when the clock struck 10 am. You chose a class that all of your classmates, or at least the ones you talked to, were interested in doing: Model Making.

It was something you enjoyed doing when you were younger. Your parents knew that if you simply disappeared or were too quiet — aka you weren’t yelling at Jeonghan — you’d be in your room surrounded by modeling clay, chopsticks, glue, brushes, and paint, or whatever materials you were using at the time. 

However, all of your dreams were shattered when you ran into Kira at the campus entrance. 

“You know, the teacher for this class is crazy. Your life is going to be hell” was like a cold shower.

After that, it was as if everywhere you went, people were purposefully talking about the subject, about how the teacher was absolutely crazy and that getting a good grade with her was almost impossible, and how she “seems to take a sick pleasure in failing students.” So when the day of class finally arrived, the first of the next six hellish months, you dragged yourself into the classroom. You chose the seat furthest away from her, hidden behind a student, and did your best to stay as out of sight as possible. 

The guy sitting in front of you turned around. He was smiling widely. You weren’t sure if he was trying to be friendly or what. 

“Do you know if what everyone’s saying is true?” 

There was something about him that was familiar. You obviously knew who he was, it was no secret. Everywhere you went, people were either whispering about him or there was a picture of him and the other guys on the team taped to the wall.

Kim Mingyu, star of the ice hockey team. The youngest to become captain, top scorer, the big sensation who would lead the university to the long-awaited championship. All that blah blah blah about the chosen athlete, and the latest savior of the nation.

So yes, you knew who he was, there was no way you couldn't know. But at that specific moment, while he was sitting in front of you, his body turned in the chair at a strange angle because he was obviously too big for that tiny chair, there was something about him that was strangely familiar.

"That the teacher is crazy?" he nodded, his eyebrows slightly arched and his lips almost forming a pout "I haven't heard anyone say otherwise, so I have no choice but to believe it."

You lowered your eyes and focused on the lit screen of your cell phone, which showed a new message from your brother. You didn't look away because you wanted to know what Jeonghan wanted, as far as you were concerned his message would only be read at the end of the day, if that. You didn't want to keep looking at Mingyu when you felt that everyone in the classroom was looking at you.

You knew it wasn't exactly true, there was no way an entire class, full of students talking to each other, could be looking at you at the same time as if you were doing something scandalous or even remotely wrong. But you knew there were a few people, and that was more than enough. It was a very familiar feeling, one you preferred not to revisit.

Even though you completely ignored Mingyu's presence or his gaze on you, he still hadn't turned around. Not even when the teacher entered the room and everyone fell silent.

The problem with being a child who didn’t have many experiences is that you become a fearful person. Everything seems big, larger than life, and sometimes everything seems infinite and far beyond reach. It’s a much easier choice to retreat into that familiar corner and pretend the world outside simply doesn’t exist. The bubble you created for yourself was small and admittedly, sometimes suffocating, but it was also comforting.

But everything can change when you meet people who aren’t aware of that bubble, or who didn’t create those spaces for themselves. They weren’t trapped inside it.

One class was more than enough to start a crack in your perfectly intact bubble. A selective introvert, as you liked to say. For a loud hockey player when he was surrounded by his friends, Seokmin was strangely shy.

When the teacher was choosing the pairs, you closed your eyes, praying to anyone who would listen not to pair you with a bad student, someone who wouldn't do anything and you would have to do all the work alone. The prayer, or whatever it was, was not heard because the teacher decided it would be a great idea to pair you and Seokmin. Maybe you were under the wrong impression, falling into the old suspicions and stereotypes, but you doubted very much that you would be able to get any kind of help from Seokmin.

And to be quite honest, after a bad experience with a group mate, to the point of ending up at the police station, because the guy simply couldn't accept the fact that you taking his name off the work was completely his fault and you simply didn't think it was fair that you did everything alone and he still got a good grade, you were okay with doing everything on your own. You were sure that if you opened your email, and clicked on your spam box because God was a witness to the number of emails you had received from that idiot, there would probably still be some unread emails from him, bragging that even with your “attempt” to jeopardize his education, he had managed to get a good enough grade to pass the class. 

Despite everything, Seokmin was nice and seemed interested enough, although a little lost, but maybe a little push in the right direction would be enough. 

“I took this class because I thought it would be easy,” he said laughing, a little shy, “I guess I was wrong.” 

You nodded, absentmindedly turning the page of your notebook with the notes you had made. 

“I took it because I like the idea of ​​building models.”

The classroom door opened with a bang, slamming against the wall. Everyone turned to him, some girls laughing. Mingyu was obviously late, his hair still wet from the shower, his backpack inside out on his shoulder, his shirt completely wrinkled as if it had just come out of a cow’s mouth. The teacher stood up and walked towards him slowly, her arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s screwed.” Seokmin laughed softly, or as softly as he could.

The teacher didn’t have a welcoming look in her eyes, if anything she seemed to be glaring at Mingyu, and not even the best smile he could throw in her direction would make a difference. In addition to being crazy, the teacher was also apparently known for not accepting tardiness.

It was impossible to look away as Mingyu tried, without any success, to open his mouth to explain, but the teacher wouldn’t let him say a single word. You and Seokmin suppressed a laugh when the teacher looked in the direction where she thought the noise was coming from before turning back to Mingyu, who seemed more desperate by the second. He looked lost standing in front of the older woman, his head lowered like a child who had misbehaved and was listening to a lecture.

Finally, the teacher dismissed him with a wave of her hands and turned back to her desk, completely ignoring Mingyu. He finally turned back to the desks, his eyes scanning the space before finally settling on Seokmin. Or… on you? There was no reason to believe he was looking at you, none at all. When Mingyu smiled, you went back to looking at your notes, flipping the pages almost compulsively, looking for anything and nothing.

You had no idea why your heart was behaving like that, beating almost animalistically inside your chest, or why you felt a single drop of sweat run down your spine — despite the air conditioning being on and you feeling cold. You could have sworn you could hear Mingyu’s footsteps going up the stairs, despite the sound of the students’ conversations around you being obviously much louder.

“At least I got something good for being late today.”

Mingyu pulled out the empty chair next to you and sat down, his knee bumping against yours. You flinched a little and moved away, making yourself closer to Seokmin.

“Sorry,” you said to Seokmin and turned to Mingyu. “Could you…?”

You waved your hand to make him move away. He looked confused for a second until he pushed the chair further away from you. On the other side, Seokmin covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh, while Mingyu glared at him.

“The teacher who chose your group?” Seokmin asked, still trying to suppress a laugh.

“She just said to sit with whoever wasn’t already in a trio”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Great, you were stuck with two jocks who had probably hit their heads on the ice so much that their brains had turned to jelly in their early twenties.

“What do we have to do?”

“Build 3 models based on architectural periods.” When Mingyu widened his eyes, you added, “It’s the entire semester’s work. We don’t even have to come to class anymore, just the last one to hand it in.”

You started gathering the few materials you had taken out of your bag. The notebook and pen quickly disappeared into what Jeonghan called a black hole. “What goes in there never comes out again. If you look hard enough, you’ll find a wallet I lost in high school.”

“Look, I know I’m going to do this alone. I'll find a way to let you know the periods I chose and the artists and you guys study for the presentation.” 

You stood up, pushing the chair back with your knees, making a lot more noise than expected, which in turn made most of the people turn to see what was happening, including the teacher. 

“Wait,” Mingyu said, holding the strap of your bag. 

Not that you could get out of there anyway, he was between you and any possibility of leaving. But you thought he would get out of the way if he saw that you wanted to leave.

“I'll help, it's my job too,” with his free hand, he pointed to Seokmin behind you. “Ours, actually.” 

Despite the sincere look on his face, you laughed.

“Look, I don't want to offend you guys, okay? But the three of us know that won't happen. There will always be a practice, a game, a party, something that will stop you from doing your part of the work. I don’t mind doing it alone, it won’t be the first time, and considering I still have two more semesters to go, it won’t be the last. It’s okay, really.”

Mingyu stood up and for a moment you were sure he was going to get out of your way, but somehow he managed to block your path even more. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had always been this tall and wide. When he was around the other players it didn’t seem like it, but him standing in front of you…

“I said we’ll help” 

He took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, turning the device towards you.

“You know, your hands are huge, and this is a very delicate job” What exactly were you talking about?

“He’s more skilled than you can imagine,” Seokmin said. 

Once again, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The teacher was definitely crazy, and it seemed like she had some kind of personal vendetta against you. Or was it a curse cast by Jeonghan for staining his white shirts? Whatever it was, it was a problem that, at the moment, had no obvious solution.

“If I fail this class because of you two idiots, maybe one of you will lose a hand.” You snatched the phone from Mingyu’s hand, dialed your number, and quickly handed it back. “Maybe both of you”

You put your hand on Mingyu’s shoulder and pushed him back. You tried your best to avoid any kind of contact, but it was the only solution you could find to pass.

“It’s not a matter of life or death, you know?” he said, laughing.

“I’ve never failed in my life, and I’m not going to start now.”

Mingyu pushed the door open with perhaps a little more force than necessary. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't happy either, a strange feeling somewhere in between that he didn't like very much.

That first day he had seen you in class was like he had been transported back to high school. He could almost hear you saying, in the most disinterested tone in the world, "I've been waiting for you for two hours, could we please go home?" At that time he had also felt invisible to your eyes.

But so many years later, in that classroom, he thought you would recognize him. Mingyu thought, as naive as it may seem, that despite your disinterest at the time, at least you would know who he was.

Of all the people he could meet in that class, you were the last one that ever crossed his mind. It had been years since he had last seen you, since Jeonghan's last game, when he was crowned champion for the third time - an unprecedented feat until that moment. Mingyu had even tried to beat that record, but his runner-up position in the third year had prevented him from doing so. 

He had gotten used to seeing you from afar, always the unreachable sister of his captain, who always seemed to be much more interested in the books you carried around with you than in anything else. 

The truth was that you had never even directed a word in Mingyu's direction. Besides Jeonghan, he had only seen you talk to one other person, Seungcheol. It had never been clear to him if it was by choice or if it was because Jeonghan always said you were off-limits. Maybe it was somewhere in between. 

However, when you entered the room, looking for an empty chair, Mingyu expected you to recognize him, even though so many years had passed. When you walked up the stairs and seemed to be heading towards him, Mingyu, like a silly teenager, expected you to at least greet him. But you walked right past him as if he wasn't even there. 

Even so, he tried to talk to you. Something about the teacher being crazy and the look in your eyes said that you couldn't wait for him to shut up and look straight ahead again.

After that, it was like he saw you everywhere, and believe him, he wasn't looking for you. In the café that opened on the other side of the campus, in the library, when he went to return a book, in the hallway of the building, on the lawn. Mingyu spent five years without having any kind of contact with you and, suddenly, you were everywhere.

He chose to see it as a divine sign. As if the guy up there was saying "Now is your chance". And then, as if all these signs weren't enough, he was given the chance to do an assignment with you, almost like a gift.

"The door didn't do anything to you," Seokmin said laughing.

"Do you want to be the door?" 

Maybe the divine signal was broken, maybe the guy up there was messing with him because in less than 5 minutes you managed to extinguish any and all excitement Mingyu could have about doing the assignment with you. All you had to do was open your mouth.

“Dude, she just doesn’t remember you” Seokmin laughed again, having a little too much fun with the whole situation “If you say, ‘hi, I was your brother’s teammate’, she’ll still not remember you, but maybe she’ll be less hostile”

Mingyu highly doubted that was the case. There was a rumor that you hated everything and anything that had to do with hockey, your patience was less than zero. Jeonghan was the king of the ice, the best the sport could produce. You were the ice princess without ever having even put on a pair of skates – or so the gossip said. 

“It doesn’t bother me that she doesn’t remember me” It did bother him, but he wouldn’t admit it “It bothers me that she thinks I’m stupid”

Usually, under completely normal circumstances, Mingyu would even prefer to be seen as stupid and without anything in his head. It was easier, it prevented people from creating any kind of expectation about him. Strangely, he wanted you to see him as intelligent.

“You’re a bit contradictory, aren’t you? You’ve spent the last 3 years cultivating the image of a dumb athlete, who gets good grades by pure luck, despite the almost impossible subjects, but now you want her to think you’re smart”

“I didn’t know you knew how to use the word contradictory”

You stared at the lit screen of your cell phone. The unknown number was glowing and the inviting green button was almost begging you to answer the call. It was already the third time he had called and it would also be the third time you had ignored him.

“You know, it won’t hurt if you answer his call,” Kira said beside you, but she also knew that trying to convince you was a losing game.

Exactly 11 days had passed since the fateful class that had put you in a group with Seokmin and Mingyu. While you had no direct problems with either of them, besides them being hockey players, Mingyu’s insistence irritated you in a way that didn’t make much sense — not even to you. You should have felt relieved that he wanted to do the work, and that he was interested in participating. But the truth is that you knew how this worked, you had been in that situation before and hadn’t had the best experience.

Maybe you were a little too hard on him, it's true, but it's like the old saying goes: a scalded cat fears cold water.

“I want to keep as far away from him as possible.”

Kira rolled her eyes for what seemed like the twentieth time. She understood, to some extent, your dislike for players and also knew that a lot of it came from your brother, but in the case of Mingyu, specifically, you were definitely going too far.

“Look, the rumors are that he's a good student, actually. Always with high grades.” Kira tried to argue.

You knew the rumor well, even before you were put in the same group, in fact, much to your chagrin, Mingyu had chosen to be in the same group as you. That helped a lot with the huge reputation he had around the college. Handsome, athletic, good student. But you didn't believe it for a minute.

You didn’t know if Mingyu really had any good grades, but if he did, you were sure he hadn’t gotten them in the most… fairway.

“And he’s not unpleasant to look at at all.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. Yes, Mingyu was gorgeous, breathtaking, the kind of guy that made you wonder if he was even real. You had eyes and they worked just fine, you didn’t need Kira to remind you that he was handsome. Saying Mingyu was handsome was like saying the sky was blue, obvious, and expected.

“You know I don’t mess with athletes.”

Finally, Mingyu had given up on the call, but that didn’t mean he had given up completely. Your phone only had a few seconds of respite before the screen lit up again, but this time with a ton of messages.

Unknown - 11:32

hi, it's mingyu

Unknown - 11:32

again

Unknown - 11:33

answer me, I want to talk about the project

Unknown - 11:34

you said you want to do it alone, but it's not going to happen, you know? I can't leave my grande in the hands of a complete stranger

Unknown - 11:35

I see you with your phone in your hand, take my call or reply to my texts

You lifted your head so quickly that you felt a twinge in your neck.

"Shit"

You looked around the cafe, trying to find Mingyu, but most of the tables were empty and none of the people standing in line looked remotely like him. You brought your face closer to the glass, trying to find the tall, broad figure, outside, and still didn't see anyone who could be mistaken for him.

yn - 11:37

I could report you for stalking

Unknown - 11:37

crime: wanting to do a college assignment

yn - 11:37

following me around, calling me non-stop, texting me. It could be considered stalking, yes

Unknown - 11:38

again, crime: wanting to do a school project

Unknown - 11:38

also, I wasn’t following you, I just happened to see you

yn - 11:38

I already said I'll do it alone

Unknown - 11:39

and I already said it won't happen, so if you could tell me your plan on how to do it, that would be great

“We have to admit, he's persistent”

Mingyu's messages became common and also at the most random moments possible. You were sure that the only time he hadn't sent a text was when he was at the game last Friday. You knew this because you had watched the game, with the computer with the sound turned down so that Jeonghan wouldn't suspect anything. 

You hated to admit it, but he was good at what he did. Dared to say it was even glorious. It was hard to believe that a man of that size, so wide, could infiltrate the smallest spaces and score the most unbelievable goals possible. He and Seokmin together were almost magical. They still couldn't compare to the duo of Jeonghan and Seungcheol, but that was already a very high level to reach. 

Mingyu had given up on sending you texts only about work, not that you had answered any of them, but he also started asking about your course, inviting you and Kira to go to one of his games – you still wondered how he had found out about your friendship since all of your social media profiles were locked and so were Kira's.

You had to agree with Kira, he was persistent. You could even say tireless. If you were him, you would probably have given up a long time ago, choosing to let the crazy guy do the work alone. But Mingyu was nowhere near giving up. You knew this because every time you miraculously ran into Mingyu, you had to run away from him, practically having to run away from him at some point.

It worked very well for a week until one day he simply appeared in front of you. You were distracted, your eyes glued to your phone. Jeonghan was gliding across the ice with skill when the player from the other team hit him hard, his body flying before falling to the ice. You felt the air get stuck in your lungs until he stood up, clearly irritated by what had happened. You felt like laughing when you saw the name on the other player's shirt, the one who had pushed Jeonghan. Choi. Best friends in real life, rivals on the ice.

“What are you looking at so focused?” a voice said next to him.

You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest as you tried to lock your phone and put it back in the bag. You wished you had been more graceful in the whole situation, to look less like someone who had been caught red-handed doing something they shouldn't have.

“Jeez, do you have no manners?” your voice came out louder than expected, causing some people around him to turn to see what was happening.

Beside you, Mingyu smiled, pleased with himself for having gotten some reaction beyond furrowed eyebrows and a look of disgust.

“Were you running away from me?” he raised his hand and corrected himself, “Not right now because you clearly had no idea I was here, but in general.” 

You rolled your eyes and quickened your pace. You didn’t really have anywhere to go or anything to do, there were still 50 minutes until your next class and there was no time to run home and hide. Would it be too pathetic to hide in the bathroom and wait for him to leave? With your luck, he would be waiting outside, even if it meant missing a class. 

“Why would I do that?” 

Mingyu crossed his arms over his chest. For the first time in your life, you wished someone was ugly, devoid of any kind of muscles or attractive qualities. You wished he was ugly, terrible to look at. You wished the sun wouldn’t make his skin shine, you wished you didn’t find the mole on the tip of his nose cute, wished you hadn’t wondered if maybe all this insistence of his didn’t have some extra reason, besides wanting to get the work done and obviously annoying you. Of all the things, you wished you hadn’t been disappointed when you hadn’t seen him for a day.

It was ridiculous, you knew it was. But whatever it may be, there you were, your heart pounding, feeling it throb in your neck. You wouldn’t fool yourself into thinking it was just because you were surprised by him suddenly being by your side. You could fool others, but at least you had to be fair to yourself.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Even though you knew it wasn’t a good idea, you stood still. You knew it would only attract more attention, it was almost inevitable when Mingyu was by your side. 

“Okay, I was. I don’t want to be seen with you.”

Mingyu looked confused, his head lolling to the side as if he was seriously thinking about what was happening. The question mark was clearly written on his face. It was almost as if one was floating above his head.

“Mingyu, look. You, in and of yourself, are not the problem. I mean, in part, it is, but you know, it's that old story, the problem is me, not you.”

“I honestly thought the problem was just the assignment.” He scratched his head, his eyebrows still furrowed. “You think I'm stupid and that kind of thing.”

You took a deep breath, your eyes closed for a second. You hadn't explained the situation to him, you had no reason to, so he had no way of knowing. But you also didn't want to expose your life to a stranger, so you weren’t willing to just tell secrets you’d never said out loud.

“If I tell you I’ll let you guys do your part, will you stop following me? It’s a little weird, and maybe even a little creepy.”

Your words were honest, it was weird and creepy at the same time. It didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t it be much easier for him, and for Seokmin, to just let you do everything yourself so they could focus on whatever was important to them? In your opinion, it was the easiest thing for everyone.

But Mingyu looked like a dog with a bone. A terrible analogy, but it made sense, at least to you.

“Yes,” a direct answer, great.

“Let’s do it like this then, let’s chat via text about the artists we think are cool, which are the most interesting. Once we’ve reached a consensus, we’ll get together to start making the models.”

You took a step back and held out your hand. A peace offering.

“We have a deal then.”

If regret killed, you would have been dead and buried so long ago that you would have turned into fertilizer. Logically, you knew that trusting Jeonghan was a mistake. You loved your brother with all your heart, but you also knew that he wasn't the most trustworthy person for certain things.

If you were in trouble and needed help? He was definitely the right guy for the job. He wouldn't say a word in a judgmental tone and, depending on the situation, he would go far enough to pretend it never happened. Now, if it was a request that he considered silly, then it was a lost cause. 

Besides all that, Jeonghan liked to play pranks, and you were one of his favorite victims. Things could even get a little out of hand when he and Seungcheol got together. It was like having two completely devilish older brothers. In truth, Seungcheol alone wasn't even that bad, but when he got together with Jeonghan it was like someone had opened the gates of hell. 

Even knowing all this, you had talked to him. You knew the house was his, that he could come and go as he pleased, but thought that if you played the little sister card well enough he would let it go.

"Some friends from college are coming over tomorrow, can you please not show up at home?" you asked, making your best puppy-dog-that-fell-out-of-the-moving-truck face.

"You don’t want me to meet your boyfriend?" he laughed, looking away from his phone for a second before returning his attention to the device.

You closed your eyes. Something was going on. Jeonghan was really into his phone, much more than usual. Either some nonsensical rumor had been published, which he would have already shown you and laughed along with you when he read the absurdities written; or he had a bone in his body, also known as a girlfriend. He always got more into his phone when he had someone more serious in his life.

It was useful information to have, so you put it in a little box in your mind labeled "something to blackmail Jeonghan with later" For now it was just speculation, but it could be important.

"How many boyfriends do you think I have?" You grimaced, shaking your head. “But no, none of them are my boyfriend. They’re just some guys I have to work with. I thought about doing it here because we need space and I’m sure I’ll yell at one of them sooner or later.”

You weren’t in the habit of bringing people home. Jeonghan was a person who really liked his private life to remain that way, private. Even with Kira, who was your closest friend, you had a hard time taking her home. Not because Jeonghan had asked. He knew that if you were asking, it was because you needed to or because you trusted those people enough to know who your brother was without it becoming a problem.

In fact, you weren’t sure of anything, not that you needed them or that you could trust them. But Jeonghan wasn’t one of those celebrities who had huge photos of themselves scattered around the house. It’s a little creepy, to be honest, he had said once. So the few photos he had around the living room were in normal-sized picture frames, which his mother had put up when she visited, so they could be easily hidden. The lie about the rich brother who works in the stock market was always on the tip of your tongue in case someone could question why you lived in a penthouse.

"I don't understand what's wrong with me being here then" His indifferent tone of voice was dangerous.

Maybe it would be better to give up.

"First because I don't need supervision, the virginity ship sailed a long time ago" 

It might be a good idea to talk about something he didn't like to talk about, like your past relationships. He could joke all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he was just a guy who didn't like knowing that his younger sister had boyfriends.

"For the love of god I don't need to know that in detail" He grimaced, pretending to vomit. He was such a good actor that he had even turned pale.

"And secondly, because they play hockey. Since there's no way they don't know who you are, I'd like to not witness another fanboy" 

You knew you had said the wrong thing when you noticed that gleam in Jeonghan's eyes. Even his expression had changed when you told him that your groupmates played hockey.

Still, you chose to believe him when he said he would be out of the house all day, that he would even go to Seungcheol's house after practice — which you thought was a lie, considering the whole situation with not putting down his phone and running when a notification came in. He had gone as far as to say, “let me know when it's over, so I can come home.” That's why you sent a message to the group chat with Seokmin and Mingyu asking if they had Tuesday night off.

A part of you, a very big part, thought they would deny it and make up any excuse not to show up, but it was almost as if they both had their phones in their hands waiting for your message.

And so, the three of you were sitting at Jeonghan's huge dining table. It was the kind of furniture that existed only to take up space, you always ate in the kitchen.

“You live well” Seokmin commented.

It was funny, and almost cute, how completely clumsy he was. You had bought different types of materials to test, thinking about which one would work best. Seokmin had changed several times, the last attempt was the biscuit.

“My brother earns well” you shrugged, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore.

To your surprise, he didn't ask. Which was a relief, you didn't want to lie.

Even without looking up, you knew Mingyu was looking at you. He didn't try to hide it at all. It was uncomfortable, but at the same time, it was flattering.

You rested your chin on your hand and stared at him too. Ever since the first day you had seen him in class, you had the feeling that you knew him. You didn't know where from, you didn't know how. It wasn't from college, it wasn't from the posters spread around, or from the fame he had. It was from before, before college, but you didn't know where. You were sure he wasn't in any of the courses you took and he wasn't from your school either, there was no hockey team.

“Where do I know you from?” the words came from your lips, but it was a question asked much more to you than to him.

Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side and didn't say a single word. Seokmin, who until then had his head down, his brow furrowed in concentration trying to shape the white mass in his hands, looked up, almost startled by your words.

It was as if a light bulb had been turned on over your head. It was so ridiculously obvious that you would be able to kick yourself.

And with perfect timing, as if it had been sent from heaven, programmed to the exact seconds, you heard the living room door open. A second later, Jeonghan was in the room.

“Mingyu?” Jeonghan said, his eyes darting from side to side, trying to understand what was happening.

“Captain,” Mingyu said, smiling.

You wished a hole the size of Mount Everest would open up beneath your feet and swallow you whole as you watched Mingyu stand up and greet Jeonghan as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.

That was obviously true.

“You know each other” It wasn’t a question, it was a simple statement.

“Yes? Mingyu is a few years younger, but we played on the same team.”

Suddenly a brief movie flashed through your head, of all the times you had seen Mingyu — or at least the times that were never erased. Mingyu walking next to Jeonghan one of the times you were waiting for your brother in the school parking lot, him at the games, sitting on the bench completely irritated by the fact that he couldn’t play and the team was losing. He was a boy who was clearly too skinny, but somehow he had become that man in front of you.

“She doesn’t remember me,” Mingyu said with a laugh.

Was that a hint of resentment you heard in his voice? You hoped not, but maybe if you were in his shoes you would be resentful too. You hoped he hadn’t talked to you that first day because he expected you to recognize him and every time after that. Because most of the time you had been a complete jerk to him.

“Wow, you saw him literally every day for at least two years.”

It wasn’t like you weren’t already embarrassed enough on your own, of course, Jeonghan, in his best big brother role, had to add fuel to the fire. You hoped your cheeks weren’t as red as you felt them hot.

If the smile on Mingyu’s lips was any indication, you were completely screwed.

“I only remember Cheol. He was the only one you let get close to me.”

It was a futile attempt to defend yourself, but it was the only excuse you had. It was also the truth.

“That’s true,” Mingyu agreed, sitting back down.

It wasn’t a big secret that Jeonghan had forbidden all his teammates from getting close to you. It wasn’t like you desperately wanted their company anyway, so it was a win-win arrangement.

“You were a pain in the ass,” which was just another shovel of dirt for someone who was already buried, right?

“I was protecting you? The guys on the team…” he tried to defend himself, feigning offense.

You simply waved your hand at him, dismissing any kind of explanation he might have offered.

“They were teenagers full of testosterone and hormones. Not much has changed, you know.”

The three of them were startled when Seokmin slammed the table, his eyes wide as he stared at Jeonghan. For a few minutes, you had forgotten he was there.

“You are Yoon Jeonghan’s sister?” His voice had suddenly become shrill to the point of echoing in the room.

The laugh that escaped your lips was partly incredulous and partly desperate. Mingyu remembered you, but he hadn’t told anyone—not even his teammate—probably because he remembered it was something you kept people from knowing. In a way, you knew your secret's safe with him. But you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin in the same way.

“He’s kind of slow sometimes.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin out the door, hoping he would finally stop talking. His friend hadn’t realized the discomfort he had caused you yet. Jeonghan, as always, didn’t seem to care and on some level, he actually seemed to enjoy all the attention he was getting.

“It’s been a while since someone got this excited to see me,” he said, laughing when Seokmin went to the bathroom.

Either Jeonghan hadn’t realized how quiet you had been, or he had simply chosen not to do anything about it. Mingyu couldn’t be sure of the older man’s intentions, not at that moment or when they were still at school.

But you? You were like an open book, almost begging to be read. You obviously didn’t say a word, but your face showed how uncomfortable you were with the whole situation, how embarrassed you were for not remembering Mingyu as soon as you saw him.

Without you noticing, Mingyu spent a lot of time observing you. In a way, it was easy to know what you were thinking. Of course, a lot had changed in the years you hadn't seen each other, but many things were still the same.

“He won't tell anyone about your brother.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin again, this time towards the elevator, and turned to you, who was holding the door, your gaze almost lost.

“It's okay.” you took a deep breath before straightening your spine and forcing a smile. “Eventually, everyone will know.”

He shook his head and put his hand on your shoulder, leaning his body forward slightly so his eyes were leveled with yours.

“You have my word,” he promised, voice low “Seokmin won't open his mouth. Your secret will still be a secret.”

You nodded, but Mingyu knew the gesture was just to make him leave faster.

“You should go,” you said before closing the door, without waiting for Mingyu's response.

If he could, he would suffocate Seokmin right there in the hallway, but then the security cameras would see him and that would become a problem. He entered the elevator in silence and pressed the button for the ground floor. Beside him, Seokmin was practically thrilled with the discovery he had made an hour ago.

“When you said you knew her from your old school, I would never have imagined that,” he said, laughing. “I thought she was a girl who went to the same school as you.”

Mingyu chose to remain silent. He expected Seokmin to eventually get tired and simply stop talking, but he should have known better. His friend had too much energy to simply stop. In fact, it was a surprise that he had managed to stay quiet for two hours before Jeonghan arrived. And even after he arrived, Seokmin had remained standing in the same place. He spoke faster than ever and looked at Jeonghan as if he were seeing a god in person, but still, standing in the same place.

God knew it was almost impossible to convince Seokmin to stay still for long.

“I don’t understand why she hides the fact that she’s his sister. It’s basically the nicest thing anyone can say. Imagine going around saying ‘my brother is Yoon Jeonghan’”

Mingyu sighed and crossed his arms and sighed, rolling his eyes. Of course, he would.

“Remember that time your sister complained that a girl tried to befriend her because she wanted to go out with you?”

“It happened a few times, actually.”

Mingyu stayed silent, waiting for all the dots to connect in Seokmin’s head without him having to actually say the words. Under normal circumstances, Seokmin would have understood and kept quiet, but he was too excited after meeting an idol god to realize the full context Mingyu was trying to give him.

“That happens to her all the time. She didn’t even go to the same school as us. She really does everything so no one knows she’s his sister. Didn’t you notice there’s no picture of them at home?”

Seokmin laughed, as if the question was too stupid, causing Mingyu to narrow his eyes.

“Dude, you’re the one who’s into her, not me. I don’t care about whose picture is in her house.”

Would anyone find it a problem if Mingyu strangled Seokmin until he passed out and then took him back home? In Mingyu’s eyes, he would be doing everyone around him a favor. It would be a night of silence and peace for everyone involved — in this case, just him, but no one needed to know about it.

“Either way, you can’t tell anyone about this,” he warned once more.

He had made a promise to you and he would rather cut off an arm than break it.

“Not even to the team?”

Mingyu scratched his head before crossing his arms again, with much more force than necessary. Finally, the elevator reached the ground floor and Seokmin was faster than Mingyu to get out, almost running down the hall to the gate.

Mingyu briefly greeted the doorman with a nod before following his friend.

“Especially to the team. No one can know. It's like a federal secret, you know?”

Mingyu grabbed Seokmin by the arm, making his friend stop and look at him. He hoped it would be enough for him to understand that he wasn't kidding, that it wasn't some kind of joke.

"Jeez, so much drama."

He got away from his friend and quickly opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.

Once again, Mingyu took a deep breath, his eyes closed. Maybe he shouldn't have promised you anything, not when the promise had nothing to do with him, and when there was a possibility of everything going wrong, then he would have to bear the burden of someone else's mistake.

"Seokmin," your voice was a warning tone. He opened the car door.

"I won't say anything!" his friend almost shouted.

"You're terrible at keeping secrets," he sighed, almost defeated.

"Nobody knows that you're actually super smart," Seokmin scoffed. "I never told on you, you know."

When you finally managed to get Mingyu and Seokmin to leave, you were beyond exhausted. It was late, already past 10 pm and you had to wake up early for class the next day. At least you would fall into bed without much trouble and you were sure that you would black out almost instantly. Except for the idea that from that moment on it was likely that the entire college would know who your brother was.

You always knew that this day would come, you just hoped it wouldn't be during college, a college that had a good hockey team — well, it was almost unfair, they were fantastic — and that lived and breathed the sport. If the news really needed to get out, you wanted it to happen when you were far away from there, in an environment where few people would like the sport. Of course, you were living off stereotypes, but you preferred to believe that you wouldn't have many colleagues who liked the sport, or that if they did, they would be indifferent.

With a sigh, you began to gather the materials that were scattered around the table, cleaning up the mess left behind. Seokmin wasn't wrong when he said that Mingyu was more skilled than expected. The prototype he made was delicate and almost perfect. Working with him wouldn't be complicated at all. With Seokmin too. He was more absent-minded, but he wasn't bad either. He could do the rough part of the work and you would refine it until it was perfect.

“Sis”

Jeonghan's voice sounded behind you and you chose not to answer. You were irritated with him for so many reasons that you didn't even know where to start, or what to say to him. You had made it explicitly clear why you didn't want him home. And, although he had never necessarily liked your reasons, Jeonghan had always respected you. If you said you didn't want something, he accepted it. But this time he had crossed all the limits.

“Sister” he tried again, this time a step closer to you.

You rested your hands on the table and leaned your body forward. 

“You know, I know that I live in your house, that you’re the one paying for my college, and that all the comfort I have here is because you pay for everything, so you can kind of do whatever you want. But this is my life.” 

You continued to put the things in the box and went to your room. You didn’t close the door because you knew Jeonghan would follow you. 

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with people knowing that I’m your brother.” 

You shook your head as you sat on the bed. He clearly didn’t understand, he never had, but he had always respected it. Apparently not anymore. 

“It’s not middle school anymore and you’re not 13 anymore. Just tell them all to go to hell,” he tried to reason, sitting in front of you. 

Jeonghan’s eyes were affectionate, without a hint of judgment. He just wanted to understand what was going on, because it was so important to you that people didn’t know.

“I didn’t change schools because girls were all over me because they wanted your number. I can’t say it didn’t affect my decision and it was the perfect excuse. But that wasn’t all.”

You didn’t know how to continue, didn’t know how to say everything without Jeonghan getting upset. Because you were sure he would.

“I didn’t want to be compared to you anymore.”

Your voice was almost a whisper and you didn’t dare look up, or in Jeonghan’s direction. You didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on his face, because you knew he would be disappointed. Not because you were feeling that way, but because you never told him anything.

“The teachers always talked about how smart you were, that despite sports you always got good grades. And I remember how you were back then, and you barely tried, but you were good at everything. I tried so hard and it was never enough.”

With each word that left your mouth, your voice got lower and weaker. When you said the words out loud, when they weren’t just cloistered in your mind anymore, they sounded almost pathetic. Jeonghan had never put any kind of pressure on you, quite the opposite. Your brother always made sure that you were you, an individual different from him.

All the ideas and traumas you had were not directly caused by Jeonghan but somehow had to do with him.

Jeonghan sighed loudly and leaned forward until he could hold your hand.

“Being good at school doesn’t mean anything, it’s just school. No one cares about it after a while.”

The laugh you let out was one of complete mockery. Jeonghan really had no idea what could be going through your head, the things that had happened and were still happening. Not that you blamed him for that, he had no way of knowing if you didn’t tell him what was going on, but part of you just wanted him to pay attention. If he paid attention, even the slightest bit, he would know.

The fact that he didn’t understand was painful.

If it were just the school teachers, it would be fine. Like he said, no one cares about school after a while. Do you know who cares about school, regardless of the moment? Parents. Parents who aren't necessarily bad, just parents who think that comparing one child to another is an excellent incentive. An incentive so good that they still do it.

Deep down you know that it's not out of malice, that it's not because they want to see you down, but it's an inevitable consequence. And, in a way, they were already so intrinsic in the conversations, little notes that didn't even seem like real comments, that you were sure that Jeonghan didn't even notice them.

"Okay," you said, just wanting to end the conversation. "I'll talk to both of them tomorrow, and apologize to Mingyu."

Jeonghan nodded, knowing full well that the conversation was over and that even if he pressed, he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of you.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," he said, "but if you want, can we have dinner together and talk about it?"

"I'll accept dinner, but I'll skip the talk."

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[cutieeva]

God Of The Chisel

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 Female Reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Detail Sex. Rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 見る人 目の ❜

Sculpture. Molding soul into a form, where art meets emotions. That's the definition for (Y/N), the reason of her learning it, the motivation of her creating such art because she can release her emotions through it yet what happens if she has to create the most beautiful sculpture in the entire world, a sculpture who fell for his own sculpturor.

"So, (Y/N) senpai what sculpture are you going to do this time ?" Itadori Yūji asked clearly excited for his senior's new otherworldly addition to arrive.

"I have no idea this time". She answered, a deep sigh slip her lips as her (E/C) eyes continue to stare at the thin poster of competition.

"Why though ? You are a genius in our major or should I say in Cutieeva university". Kugisaki Nobara replied, chewing the thin end of her paintbrush. "Right Megu-chan ?" The said boy, Fushiguro Megumi nod senselessly busy creating his own carving.

"Look, the competition has clearly said the participators has to sculpture the most beautiful creation the world has yet to seen out of their perspective imaginations and the winner would only be who's sculpture is most well loved by the audience not even judges or critics !!" (Y/N) explained re-reading the poster. "If my art didn't seem beautiful enough to normal eyes than it will be pure humiliation ! Not only for me but for other participators too ! Because it indirectly suggest that us all elite students of art isn't yet good enough to be approved by daily to daily audience only capable to approve to the mediocre judges who stuck by rules and that we are worthlessly wasting money". She expressed her further worries.

"Oh ! I didn't knew it was that deep". Yuji glib laughed.

"Shut up !" Nobora nudged the boy seeing (Y/N) dug fingers on her scale as if she desire to rip hair from the roots.

"(Y/N)-san do not worry. Art is a way to release your emotions not for others to ridicule". Getō Suguru smiled, walking into the art studio earning all four student's attention. "No pressure should be felt or else the art won't be as nearly beautiful as it could be if you do it like you did in the past".

"But Suguru sensei I can't stand the humiliation of losing in front of others so bluntly". Shamefully she down her head.

"Then mold it". (Y/N) tilted her head.

"What do you mean ?" Geto smiled wider.

"Mold your frustration, anger, disappointed, fear on the clay. Use your vivid imagination of horrors and your version of beauty on the sculpture. Use this gift of sculpting to release your emotions so you can at least create something because without creating how can you refine it in the first place ?" The art teacher thoroughly described his most talented student who nod feeling a bit light yet uncertain.

"Also those monkeys are called monkeys for a reason if they don't understand your brilliant art". He added causing Yuji to chuckle.

"They are humans as you, sensei". Megumi mutter loud enough for each to hear.

"Also Fushiguro-San not forget I will be there to inspect your sculpture".

"I know".

"I am reminding it. Just in case". Geto merely smiled at the black head boy glaring at him making other three laugh.

"Ha ! Thank you Suguru sensei and megumi-Chan ! I will do my best". She raised her closed fist in the air.

"Thank us too !" Yuji yelled.

"Thank you Yuji-chan and nobara-chan too". She added giggling at their childish antics finding a new spirit to work with even though in the back of her mind she wonder what will be the result of her emotions molding the clay will be.

In a quiet, isolated white room (Y/N)'s fingers wrapped around the cool, damp clay, she felt an surge of creative energy coursing through her veins. With unwavering focus, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the depths of her imagination. In the darkness, a vision began to take shape— the most breathtakingly beautiful form her mind could conjure. With each gentle touch, the clay yielded to her will, as if alive and responding to her every thought. Her hands moved deftly, sculpting the body, hands, arms, and every delicate detail, just as she envisioned. Time stood still as she became one with the creative process, lost in the pool of her imagination.

Hours passed, or perhaps only moments – (Y/N) was oblivious to the world around her. Her entire being was consumed by the artistic expression unfolding beneath her fingers. Finally, she opened her eyes, and her gaze fell upon the emerging masterpiece. Almost half of the body had taken form, and she gasped in wonder, grasping the clay as if to ensure it was real. A soft smile spread across her face as she realized that whatever she was creating was going to be breathtakingly beautiful – a true reflection of the vision that had possessed her. The clay seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her imagination. (Y/N)'s heart swelled with excitement, knowing that she was crafting something extraordinary, a testament to the transformative power of art.

As the day succumbed to the allure of twilight, (Y/N) remained entranced, her fingers moving with a life of their own. The setting sun cast a warm orange glow upon her workspace, but she didn't notice. The stars began to twinkle like diamonds in the night sky, and the moon rose high, bathing the world in a soft, ethereal light. Yet, she continued to create, oblivious to the passage of time. Hours melted away, and the night deepened, however (Y/N)'s focus never wavered. Her body seemed to forget its needs – hunger, fatigue, and thirst became distant memories. Her sole purpose was to bring forth the masterpiece unfolding before her. The clay appeared to respond to her every touch, as if a divine force had taken residence within her.

With each delicate stroke, the sculpture evolved, gaining refinement and nuance. (Y/N)'s hands moved with a precision that bordered on reverence, as if she were channeling the essence of the divine. The air around her seemed to vibrate with creative energy, and the clay itself appeared to pulse with an otherworldly life. In this state of flow, (Y/N) became one with her art, transcending mortality. Her soul merged with the sculpture, infusing it with a spark of the divine. The boundaries between creator and creation blurred, and she became the deity, shaping the clay with an omnipotent touch. Time lost all meaning as she worked tirelessly, sleepless and unrelenting, driven by an insatiable passion to bring forth perfection.

As the next day dawned, her fingers moved with a newfound sense of purpose, her fingers deftly shaping the final details of her masterpiece. The sculpture stood before her, a magnificent form born from her unwavering dedication. Yet, one crucial element remained— the face, the window to the soul, where expression and emotion would breathe life into her creation. Thus, she was about to move to add details when the sun's warm, golden light danced across her art, her (E/C) eyes gaze locked onto her creation, and she felt the weight of reality settle upon her. The world around her snapped into focus, and she beheld her masterpiece in awe.

Transfixed, she reached out a trembling hand to touch the sculpture, as if to ensure it was truly real. However her body finally acknowledged its limits, her legs buckled, and she sank to the ground, exhausted. A soft cry escaped her lips as she left a voice message "Nobara... food... water..." she whispered, voice barely audible.

Despite her physical collapse, an overwhelming sense of joy and pride swelled within her chest, threatening to burst forth. Tears of happiness pricked at the corners of her eyes as she gazed upon her creation, now radiant in the warm sunlight. The sculpture seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her being. (Y/N)'s heart overflowed with a sense of accomplishment, knowing she had poured her very soul into this masterpiece that is yet to be finished.

Moments later Nobara approached Y/N with a gentle smile, carrying a tray laden with food and water, the aroma of nourishment wafted through the air, enticing Y/N's senses. Nobara's eyes sparkled with warmth as she helped Y/N sit up, cradling her head as she offered a refreshing sip of water.

Meanwhile, Yuji's excitement burst forth like a pent-up torrent, his words tumbling out in an effusive stream: "Wow, (Y/N) senpai this is... this is... incredible! The detail, the emotion, the sheer beauty of it! It's like nothing I've ever seen before!" His gaze darted between his senior and the sculpture, his eyes aglow with wonder.

Geto, beaming with pride, nodded his head in approval, his smile stretching from ear to ear. "(Y/N)-san, my student, you have truly outdone yourself. I've never seen such imagination, such skill, such... life breathed into a creation. You've surpassed even my expectations!"

Megumi, usually a silent observer, stood transfixed, his dark blue eyes fixed upon the sculpture as if mesmerized. His gaze seemed to hold a deep reverence, as if the artwork had awakened a part of him long dormant. For once, his quiet nature was not a result of reserve, but rather, utter captivation.

(Y/N) sipped the water and nibbled on the food, her strength slowly returning, she smiled weakly, basking in the praise and admiration of her friends and teacher. The warmth of their words enveloped her, filling her with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

"I know. This year's grand prize will also be rewarded to our university, won by none other than you, (Y/N) !" Geto's eyes shone with warm and paternal pride. His smile radiated deep satisfaction like his heart had been poured into the sculpture. Unspoken awe. Golden pride.

(Y/N) blush from all the showers of compliment yet she remained a little doubtful as the expression of the face is yet to be crafted dwelling whether the window of the model's will ruin her almost masterpiece.

"Hopefully I can create his expression. I still do not know how or what to shape his expression, hair". Nobora chuckle, sitting near her.

"Do not worry ! We all believe in you. Do your best !" She raised her fist in the air, trying to cheer her friend which she succeed because (Y/N)'s tension dissolved, chewing the food.

"But ! Do not forget to take food because forget award you can't even move your hands if this is how it goes on". Megumi calmly advised.

"Right ! (Y/N) senpai ! Please rest your body". Yuji cheerfully agreed, still captivated by the art with his eyes.

"Thank you. I will". And she did heed to their advise taking full three hours break while laying on her bed with jumble of confusion, thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty inside her mind. She stared blankly at the clay, her fingers poised in mid-air, as if waiting for the familiar spark of inspiration to strike.

However it didn't come.

For the first time, her natural gift seemed to be faltering. She felt like a novice again, fumbling in the dark, unsure of how to mold his expression. The ease with which she usually shaped clay into breathtaking works of art had deserted her. Her eyes, once closed in confident intuition, now snapped open in frustration. Reaching for a sketchbook, (Y/N) began to scribble down ideas, trying to coax her elusive creativity back to the surface. The pencil scratched across the paper, a staccato rhythm that echoed her racing thoughts. She was forced to confront the possibility that her imagination, once a boundless ocean, might have limits after all.

This unfamiliar struggle was like reminiscing her beginning stage again, rediscovering the basics of her craft. The discomfort was palpable, like trying to relearn a forgotten language. Fingers moved hesitantly, as if seeking permission to create, her mind clouded by self-doubt. The sketchbook became a lifeline, a tangible connection to her artistic voice, which seemed to be whispering in a language she could no longer understand.

"I think I should sleep". Trying for hours with no avails she shut her notebook harshly, closing her eyes to drift into the land of dream in hopes of re-freshing her mind and back to her usual gifted self.

(Y/N) unusually found herself standing in a familiar sun-drenched studio, surrounded by half-finished sculptures and scattered tools. Her late mother stood before a work-in-progress, chisel in hand and for odd reasons she approached, curiosity etched on her face, and asked "Mother, what are you doing?"

"I am creating a sculpture, sweet one. I'm bringing this clay to life." A smile curve upon her frown look

(Y/N)'s gaze wandered to a nearby model, posed with elegance, yet lacking an upper torso. "Mother, why is she like that?" she asked, her voice tinged with innocence.

"Oh, my child, I couldn't complete her". Her mother burst into laughter

"Then will it always be like this?" Her younger self tilted her head.

Her mother's expression turned gentle, "No, my dear. Creating art means being patient. When I feel stuck, I pause, enjoy life, and give time for creativity to return to me. It's like a river, flowing and ebbing. I must learn to wait for the tide to come back."

And suddenly the image turn distant and faded into burl letting (Y/N) open her eyes with tears gliding her sides and reality welcome her, a world without her mother.

The memory of her mother's words lingering like a whispered secret with other bitter memories of her coffin flood too spreading a bittersweet taste on her lips. "Mother you never left me. Did you ?" Smiling to her herself she understood the truth : patience was the key. She needed to wait, to let her imagination recharge, and trust that the muse would return to her when the time was right rather than forcing the art to flow.

From the moment on she let go the weight that had been pressing upon her by abandoning the almost-finished sculpture, leaving it to stand silently, a testament to her temporary surrender.

With a newfound sense of freedom, she wandered into the garden, her fingers trailing across the soft petals of blooming flowers. The gentle rustle of leaves and sweet songs of birds enveloped her, calming her mind. Next, she found herself lounging on her bed, surrounded by pillows, lost in the world of games on her console. The vibrant colors and soothing music transported her to a realm where worries didn't exist.

As the day wore on, (Y/N) continued to indulge in the joy of doing nothing. She lazily flipped through the pages of a book, savoring the feel of the paper between her fingers. The words blurred together, but she didn't care – she was too busy basking in the serenity of the moment. Time lost all meaning as she drifted from one leisurely activity to the next. The competition, the sculpture, and her doubts all faded into the background, replaced by a sense of tranquility and release.

Until the creativity flowed back to her motivating her emotions to meet her clay giving birth to the sculpture's expression she always think is the true definition. With renewed inspiration, (Y/N) approached her sculpture, her hands moving with deliberate purpose. She carefully crafted the expression, etching a window to the soul onto the cold, clay body. The eyes, once blank, now sparkled with a deep, inner light, as if the very essence of life had been breathed into them.

The subtle curve of his lips, the gentle tilt of the head, all conspired to reveal the depths of the subject's being. The clay, once mere material, had transformed into a vessel for the human experience and the sculptor stepped back, her gaze swept across the masterpiece, drinking in the nuances of her creation. The world, with all its complexities and emotions, seemed to emanate from this single, silent form.

With a final, gentle touch, she completed the sculpture, infusing it with a sense of vulnerability and strength. The cold body now pulsed with a quiet, inner radiance, as if the very soul of the subject had been laid bare for all to see. In this moment, (Y/N) knew she had created something extraordinary—a window to the human experience, crafted with precision, passion, and patience. The world would soon behold her masterpiece and she was ready to be crowned as the winner of all, surrounded by claps of people.

"But what the name of this model will be ?" Deep in thought she grab her notebook looking at her male utter beautiful sculpture posed in the very same pose she choose before a name pop in her mind and she bestow the name sought to capture the harmony of opposing forces that her sculpture embodied. "Gojo" represented the balance of the five elements or more like five attributes of the human body such as head, body, arm, torse while "Satoru" symbolized the enlightenment and comprehend of his unworldly creation.

"Good". Smiling, she name her creation, granted him an identity, a sense of self that transcended the mere clay and stone even creating a inexplicable connection to herself with the art. "Is this how mother felt granting her pieces names ?" A chuckle escape her lips remembering how the old woman usually call her pieces her children along her own breathing child, (Y/N).

The competition host's voice boomed, "Welcome to the Grand People's Award Choice! Today, you will decide which sculpture reigns supreme!" The crowd murmured in excitement as they began their journey through the exhibition hall.

Sculptures of varying shapes, sizes, and materials dotted the landscape, each one unique and breathtaking in its own right. The host deliberately omitted the artists' names, allowing the art to speak for itself. Amidst the sea of onlookers, the creators themselves blended in, anonymous and eager.

(Y/N) fidgeted, her mind racing with doubts despite her teacher's encouraging words and her friends' reassurances and the crowd flowed around her, something remarkable happened. People would pause, glance at her sculpture, the Gojo Sataru, and then stop dead in their tracks. They couldn't help but be drawn back to the majestic male form, as if an otherworldly deity had been captured in clay.

Whispers spread like wildfire: "This one...this one is something special." Strangers would nod in agreement, their eyes locked on the sculpture's serene face. Even those who attempted to move on to other pieces found themselves inexplicably returning, transfixed by the beauty before them.

As the hours ticked by, a sense of certainty settled over the crowd. It was as if the winner had already been chosen, not by the judges, but by the people themselves. (Y/N)'s anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious optimism. She crossed her fingers, hoping against hope that the next hours would fly by, bringing the voting to a close and confirming what the crowd had already decided in their hearts.

The countdown clock struck its final moment, and the host's face ignited with a triumphant smile. "The moment of truth has arrived!" he declared, his voice electric with excitement. "The votes are in, and the winner of this Supreme competition will be revealed!"

(Y/N) held her breath, her heart racing like a wild stallion. Her friends offered reassuring pats on the shoulder, but she was too entranced by the host's dramatic pause to notice.

The room hung in suspended animation, the only sound the soft hum of bated breath. And then, a sly smile crept onto the host's lips, like a whispered secret. He parted his lips, and (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat.

"(L/N) (Y/N) from Cutieeva University... Congratulations! You are the champion!" he announced, his voice thundering through the hall like a victorious fanfare.

Pandemonium erupted as (Y/N) stood frozen, her eyes wide with wonder. Her friends screamed with joy, hugging her tightly as tears of elation streamed down her face. The host approached her, a congratulatory envelope in hand, and (Y/N) felt like she was soaring on the wings of triumph, her dream finally within grasp. She still can't believe out of all the brilliant universities around the globe did her sculpture won, granting her the award. (Y/N) felt like she was living in a dream, where time blurred and moments merged into a kaleidoscope of emotions. One instant, she was standing frozen, her heart racing with excitement; the next, she was beside the host, basking in the glory of her triumph.

The award felt heavy in her hands, a tangible symbol of her achievement. Thunderous applause enveloped her, a deafening roar that threatened to consume her. She opened her mouth to speak the speech, but her words were lost in the chaos, barely audible even to herself.

Before she knew it, she was swept away by a tide of well-wishers —friends, classmates, teachers, and even her principal — all beaming with pride, cheering her as the pride of their school. The celebration was a whirlwind, a colorful blur of laughter, tears, and congratulations.

And then, suddenly, she found herself alone, sitting on her bed, surrounded by the quiet of the night. The moon cast an ethereal glow, illuminating her room with an otherworldly light. She breathed in deeply, the stillness a balm to her frazzled nerves and she gazed out the window, a slow smile spread across her face. It had happened. She had won. The realization dawned on her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Mother ! I have achieved what I wanted". She said gazing fondly at the frame of her mother, settling the golden award beside it. Everything is perfect and will be. Right ? Because little did she know, this moment of triumph was only the beginning of a dark and twisted journey.

From that moment on, (Y/N)'s sculpture became a global sensation, drawing thousands of tourists to the university gallery. At first, she was ecstatic, basking in the glory of her creation's viral fame. She had won awards before, yet never had her work resonated with so many people worldwide. With pride, she showcased her masterpiece to art enthusiasts, critics, and curious onlookers. She reveled in their admiration, laughing and joking about being a "deity" who had created such a stunning work. However as time passed, a creeping sense of unease began to shadow her joy.

The whispers started innocently enough of

"How handsome he is!"

"I wish he was real!"

"Oh god, why couldn't I meet such a man?"

"Why the god didn't create such wonderful man ?"

"Hopefully he come to life".

"If I could then I would sacrifice my everything to see this man alive".

"Ah ! Why can't he come alive".

Hoever soon, the comments took on a life of their own, echoing in her mind like a mantra. She began to feel like she was losing control, as if her own creation had taken on a persona of its own. The praise, once music to her ears, now felt like a dark omen. She started to wonder if she had unleashed something sinister into the world. The constant attention, the endless scrutiny, and the obsessive admiration began to suffocate her. The deity joke wasn't funny anymore. It felt like a haunting prophecy.

A desolate realm of darkness she could see along the suffocating void that crushed her beneath its oppressive weight. The air was heavy with the stench of malevolent presence, and she sense of eyes upon her, boring into her very soul. In mist of that a voce came, first the voice was a distant whisper, a faint rustling of dry leaves that seemed to carry on the wind however it grew louder, more urgent, until turning a maddening chant that echoed through her mind. A single, raspy voice, repeating a phrase that seemed to draw closer with each iteration, its words indistinguishable but its sinister intent clear.

The voice was a cold breeze on the back of her neck. (Y/N) tried to flee, but her legs were leaden, her body trapped in a living nightmare. And then, the voice whispered a single, chilling phrase, its tone a masterful blend of malice and seduction "Gojo Sataru."

The name exploded in her mind like a firework of terror, shattering the fragile remnants of her sanity. (Y/N) jolted awake, her eyes wide with horror, her lips frozen in a silent scream. Sweat dripped from her brow like blood from a wound, her heart racing with a fear that threatened to consume her whole. For a moment, she lay there, paralyzed with terror, the darkness of her dream still clinging to her like a shroud. Then, she sat up with a gasp, her eyes scanning the room frantically, as if searching for an escape from the terror that still lingered in her mind, waiting to pounce.

"What is going on ?" (Y/N) ask feeling alike an mad woman slowly descending into madness. In fear she didn't closed her eyes for moment, staring blankly at the ceiling or sometimes sketching a new art mindlessly to distract her disturbed mind.

In no time sun made it's presence known, offering bit of warmth to all and each even to (Y/N) who felt comfort to the golden rays before her ringtone took her attention. Answering the phone she greeted. "Good morning, Geto sensei".

"Good morning, (Y/N)-San, but could you please come to the university gallery ?" Hearing this a frown knitted her brows and she check her wrist watch. 5:00 am.

"So early if I may ask ?"

"Actually". He paused as if unsure what to speak "Please it's urgent". Understanding the hastily tone she agreed, doing a brief wash and clothes change she went to the location asked and oh dear, (Y/N) wasn't expecting the overwhelming amount of crowd standing outside her art gallery. Spotting her teacher she stood nearby.

"Sir, what's going on ?" Her (E/C) eyes dart from the crowd to her teacher.

"Well". Sheepishly the teacher tilted his head. "They came to see your sculpture". Earning a loud grasp from her.

"T-They ? You mean all ?" She stutter.

"All". Geto smiled nervously as if he finding his own words strange.

"So early in the morning and so many ?" Geto nod again.

"What in the world..." (Y/N) tailed off unable to comprehend the situation of what's going on, yes, she admits herself this particular art is special, a living masterpiece basically yet the amount of spotlight seems unnecessary, uncomfortable and— her thoughts went back to the nightmare she woke up— and strange.

"So, (Y/N) please guide the people. I have no choice but to let them in, you know". His smile strained and the girl knew there was not much say she has so she nod wordlessly standing in front of the glass door, a wall between the people and her. The glass door slid open with a soft whoosh, unleashing a torrent of humanity into the gallery. Hundreds of people poured in, their faces alight with excitement, smiles, and eagerness. The air was electric with anticipation, a palpable sense of wonder that was almost tangible.

(Y/N) stood at the forefront, a forced smile plastered on her face as she greeted the throngs of visitors. She waved her hand graciously, guiding them towards her sculpture, the centerpiece of the exhibition. Her eyes darted back and forth, her mind racing with a growing sense of unease and she stood before her creation, a strange, unsettling feeling washed over her. She couldn't bring herself to look at her own creation, her gaze skittering away like a frightened animal. The sculpture, once her pride and joy, now seemed to loom over her, its presence oppressive and menacing.

(Y/N)'s smile faltered, her lips trembling ever so slightly. She felt like a puppeteer whose strings had been cut, her control over the situation slipping away. The crowd's excitement and admiration only added to her growing sense of discomfort, their eagerness to behold her creation now feeling like a suffocating weight. With a Herculean effort, (Y/N) raised her eyes, her gaze finally meeting the sculpture's serene, enigmatic face. Rather of pride, she felt a shiver run down her spine, as if she was staring into the abyss itself despite his face turned to the other side.

"Miss (L/N), with what thought you created this masterpiece ?" A young woman asked within the mist of people.

"Masterpiece ?" (Y/N) mutter under her breath tasting a bitterness. "Well, it came naturally". She replied smiling and staring at the woman's eyes.

"Amazing !" One of them compliment.

"Then Miss (L/N), had you thought the model will be this viral ?" A young man this time asked.

"Never". She answered holding her tremble.

"Then, what motivate you to create such man ? Is he a real man or a part of your imagination ?" Another asked who's face (Y/N) unable to see.

"As the rules of competition. All of the participators had to bring their imagination out into the clay so did I". Calm her voice and confident her (E/C) eyes.

"So Miss (L/N) how long did it take to make you ?"

"Miss (L/N) were you always inspired to make someone of it ?"

"Miss (L/N) are you aware of the name we call you ? The deity ?"

"Miss (L/N), any hint of inspiration in process of making him ?"

One after another the questions jumped from one man to another to another that (Y/N) lips didn't had the time to even open eventually the cacophony of voices and laughter merging into a distant, muffled din. The room began to spin, and she felt herself becoming detached, as if floating above the chaos. The excitement and admiration of the crowd now seemed like a distant hum, a buzzing in her ears that threatened to consume her. With a sense of morbid curiosity, (Y/N) dared to glance at her sculpture, the root of all the chaos. Her heart raced and from the tail of her eyes locking onto its serene, enigmatic face.

And then, she saw it. Or thought she saw it. His eyes, once mere clay and stone, seemed to flicker with life. They moved, ever so slightly, as if connecting with hers. The room froze, time standing still as (Y/N)'s heart sank like a stone.

She felt a chill run down her spine, her mind reeling in horror. It was impossible, yet she swore she saw it. The eyes, once lifeless, now seemed to hold a spark of consciousness, a glimmer of awareness that was not of this world.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat, her voice trapped in a silent scream. She stumbled backward, her eyes fixed on the sculpture, her mind racing with the implications. The crowd's din returned, but she didn't hear it. She was lost in the abyss of her own terror, staring into the eyes of her creation, which now seemed to stare back.

"Miss (L/N) ?"

"Miss (L/N) ?"

"(Y/N) senpai ?" Snap ! (Y/N) looked at the familiar call of her best friend Yuji running towards her, holding her hand worried. "Are you alright ?" His voice ringed yet her care is about the sculpture, about the man !

Slowly she turn her head, finger point to his face only to blink twice and find the lifeless eyes as it belonged unlike the glimpse of terror she saw.

Confusion.

Betrayed.

Madness.

Alone.

Did no one saw that ? Did even she saw that ? But it's liveless right ? It's a mold of clay, a non-living thing yet why ? How ? What is going on ? (Y/N) mind spin threatening to burst any moment.

"Yuji, I-I am not okay". Her words stutter and she lean on his strength.

"Understood". Yuji sprang into action, bellowing at the crowd to part and make way unlike (Y/N) who couldn't process the commotion, her mind reeling like a maelstrom. She felt her grip on reality begin to slip, her thoughts spiraling into a vortex of doubt and terror. Was she truly seeing things, or was her own sanity unraveling? The world around her became a blur, as if she was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Yuji's voice grew distant, a fading echo as (Y/N)'s consciousness teetered on the edge of collapse.

"High blood pressure, high stress level and sleep deprivation". Ieiri Shōko said, with a sigh looking at the chat. "It's a dangerous combination, (Y/N)-san that's why rest your body". Before glaring at her teacher Geto. "And you ! who even gave you the permission to be a teacher huh ? If you can't act like one ?" Her raspy voice and judgmental eyes send daggers in his way.

"I am sorry, (Y/N)-San, I didn't know I was creating pressure for you". Guilty written over his face as he ease his frown.

Megumi commented "Well, you as a teacher should know yourself". Right away avert his gaze to not meet his glare.

"It's alright. My fault. I should have voiced out my problem but I really think I need rest". Indeed (Y/N) felt the need to relax after seeing the movement never will she ever recover the horror her heart felt.

Nothingness. No hint of light, nothing at all. A silent void of nullity only suddenly, two glints of light materialized, like sapphires bursting forth from the shadows. The brightest blue she had ever seen, piercing and vivid, locked onto her. Eyes, hidden until now, stared directly into her soul. A whisper, a murmur, a voice she couldn't decipher, grew in intensity, swelling to a deafening crescendo. The words remained elusive, but the urgency was unmistakable. She strained to comprehend, her heart racing, until the sound shattered the darkness, jolting her awake with a silent scream, as if her own soul was being torn from her throat, leaving her gasping in terror, her breaths coming in ragged, desperate gulps, like a dying thing clawing its way back from the abyss.

"What was that ? I never saw those eyes—" She pause recalling the vivid eyes. "I didn't or did I ?" Oddly enough her mind went to her own sculpture. "His eyes, his lifeless eyes". Repeating the thought in her mind, She threw off the covers and got out of bed, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cold floor.

"It can't be". She hoped. "It shouldn't be, it must not be". Like a protection mantra she chanted it sprinting to the exhibition where her once masterpiece to nightmare stand on and she somehow unlock the door and run to stand in front of her model, Gojo Sataru in the darkness she was begin to spiral and to her denial the moon cast an eerie glow through the window, illuminating the sculpture's face. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as her (E/C) eyes bore into its eyes and saw nothing. No color, no sparkle, just emptiness like it should be. "Ha ! I knew it. It was another my imagination working too much". With a scoff she breath properly ignoring her intitution of feeling not being alone in this room so she walk away quietly yet quickly escaping from the burning empty eyes of the sculptures.

The night wore on, a sleepless vigil, as her fingers held the pencil scratched across the paper, trying to capture the haunting blue eyes that lingered in her mind. The memory of their piercing gaze refused to fade, fueling her creativity as she sketched into the wee hours. Just as the first light of dawn crept in, her friend arrived, bearing the missed class lessons and a gentle smile.

"Here, I am giving you all you need". Nobara pat her head, able to point out dark circles in her friend's eyes.

"Thank you a lot". Gratitude mingled with exhaustion and her hands accepted the offering, placing it in the wooden desk where her eyes caught the shining golden award she forget to keep somewhere else due to the chaos happening.

"By the way (Y/N) I also wanted you to know today your sculpture would be the model for beginner students to learn how to create the perfect body, arms and you know basics". Her hands move with the notion earning a smile over (Y/N)'s lips.

"Understood". She didn't, she didn't understood the meaning behind seeing the same art so many times anymore. Why can't people move on, go, see some other new, fresh and normal art unlike her strange, hauntingly beautiful one. That's when the curiosity to see the art awaken, for unknown reason she desperately wants to see or perhaps it was the promise of safety in numbers she asked to go along with her.

(Y/N) strolled hand in hand with Nobara towards the exhibition, the warm light danced across her skin, a comforting sensation she savored. "Let's go in". Reached the glass door Nobara said touch the doorhandle and about to open breaking the space between them when her (E/C) eyes dare peek through her lashes to the glass exterior and her her serenity, sanity shattered because for a fleeting instant, the hands of the stone seemed to twitch, fingers trembling, arms stiffening, like a macabre puppet springing to life. The horror of her nightmare resurfaced, threatening to consume her. Madness lurked, its dark tendrils creeping closer.

Averting her gaze, she felt her grip on reality falter once again. With shaking hands and a voice barely above a whisper, she stammered "I am sorry...I suddenly feel sick. I need to rest".

Without awaiting Nobara's response, she turned and fled, leaving the girl worried and tense, her eyes wide with concern as she called out however (Y/N) was already gone, vanished into the crowd, pursued by the demons of her own mind.

"This is happening again. It moved right in front of my eyes, in front of Nabora and others too !" Claps her palm to her mouth she tightly close her eyes, sitting on her bed and without a second thought opened the wooden drawer taking few pills of sleeping pills and drank in rapid speed.

"I need a dreamless sleep, I need a dreamless sleep". Repeating she lay on the cold fabric of bed and close her eyes.

Darkness enveloped her sight, a suffocating shroud that obscured all else And then, like specters emerging from the void, a pair of pale hands materialized before her. They glowed with an ethereal light, as if the darkness itself had taken on a life of its own. The hands, unmistakably male, reached out with an unsettling gentleness, his fingers tracing the contours of her body. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as the hands caressed her, his touch leaving her skin crawling with unease. She tried to recoil yet the palm tightly held her waist in it's root however she tried to move again that's when a low, velvety voice unfolded like a dark flower, its laughter echoing through the shadows like a predator's taunt along the blue eyes snapped open, blazing with an otherworldly intensity. Those cerulean orbs incinerated her defenses, laying bare her soul like a ravaged landscape despite clothes attached to her body.

"How cute you are trying to run away ?" His sinister voice carried like wind coming from behind to front or from nothing to assume.

Slowly his hands caress her visible neck, lacing with curiosity and desire. Tracing the curve of her side to the front from her chin to pausing at the collarbone unleashing a chill that seeped into her bones. Disgust and fear entwined, a toxic embrace that left her paralyzed, her heart a wild animal racing against her ribs and almost as if he could smell the fear those gleaming eyes smile into crescent moon and frosty fingers unbutton her night shirt one by one swelling tears in her eyes.

"No. Please. No. Please". She preyed to each and every god she knew the existence of, hoping to be saved by the creation she created by her own hands. Spared by the humiliation she might face by the monster and—Snap ! Her eyes jolt open to a world that is too bright, too loud. The screeching alarm pierced her eardrums, a forgotten relic of a previous night's routine. As she struggled to sit up, the harsh light overhead stabbed at her eyes, making her squint and shield her face with a groggy hand.

Tear drops silently land on her lap, soaking the fabric with her sorrows she experienced and unconsciously her hand went to her chest making her breath hitched because the two first buttons of her shirt is separated leaving her to wonder the line between her reality and nightmare erasing. "What is happening ? Why is this happening ?" Fingers dug inside her hair to the roots, only helpless questions is jumbled on her mind with unanswered and those question will remain more unanswered when increasingly she unmistakenly gets glimpse of the model and her blood run cold witnessing the torso seemed to twist, ever so slightly, like a snake slithering through grass and that very same night she is laying on her bed, inside her nothing of dream joined by the pair of hands, alive eyes, cold hard torse crawling above her warmth of skin exporling her body as if she belonged to him, violently the privacy (Y/N) wants to keep and when she teetered on the brink of death. The alarm clock screamed, shattering the spell, saving her at the same time lingering the terror.

The next time she didn't gave the chance her eyes could to see her sculpture anywhere from her phone, to her poster, she even avoiding going out frighten by the fact to see him coming alive however fate speaks otherwise accidentally letting her eyes meet the flicker of the monster named Gojo Sataru and finally along his legs twitched, its entire body began to stir, like a creature awakening from a centuries-long slumber. (Y/N) watched in pure horror, her mind reeling, as the once-inanimate object now moved with a sinister purpose. Feeling her own life force ebbing away, as if the sculpture's newfound vitality was draining her very existence and known echoed in her mind "This is the end. I'm staring death in the face."

Desperate to escape the terror from going to sleep, (Y/N) tried to distract herself. Fingers grabbed her sketchbook, but her pencils trembled in her hand, unable to capture the beauty of art amidst such evil however eyes moved to watched entertainment shows only to feel the laughter and music seemed hollow, a cruel mockery of her fear. Even old videos of her parents, once a source of comfort, now seemed distant, unable to shield her from the encroaching darkness waiting to pounch.

No matter what she did, her eyelids grew heavy, threatening to surrender to sleep despite the knowledge that if she succumbed to sleep, the sculpture would claim her. So she fought, hard and limit past her strength. She'd rather die awake, than let the darkness consume her.

Despite her valiant efforts, (Y/N)'s eyelids finally betrayed her, succumbing to the relentless pull of exhaustion and the last thing she saw was her mother smiling face holding her younger self's hand in the video.

This time when she faced the void of nothingness, she has complex layers of emotions piling one after another. Fear of what might bound to happen, confusion of why or how's this situation is even occurring to her so many times, regret of creating a monster she mistakenly did and little calm of at least knowing what's about to come in front yet she wasn't ready to face the tide like all ship captains are no matter how much they nagivate above the ocean, they fear bear fear and the darkness coalesced, swirling around itself like a vortex of ink, deepening into an abyssal void. It churned and eddied, alike creating a pathway for the entity that lurked beyond the shadows. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation, as the darkness parted like a curtain, revealing a glimpse of what lay beyond. Slowly, the entity began to take form, its presence unfolding, no longer just fragments of limbs or eyes, but its entire self, a being of unutterable horror, emerged from the shadows. The darkness swirled around it, a mad dance of tendrils, as if worshiping the monstrosity that now stood before (Y/N).

Gojo Saturu, her sculpture moving in flesh and form of an living human. A vision of devastating beauty that the viewers oh so desired. His lips in a perpetual smirk while his sapphire eyes look straight into his creator's soul.

"Hello, my creator". He mockingly greet, voice smooth flowing to (Y/N)'s ears. "Nice to meet ya". He giggle at the end as his own comment was funny. "I was oh so waiting to meet. Took so long". His long legs march forward to (Y/N) who is frozen, breathing hard to have her creation talk to her.

His face lean forward inching almost few inches apart to where her (E/C) could see his unblemished and smooth skin like she curved out of her fingers, well she bestowed him everything but flaw, a mistake on her part and a power to his. Deliberately his slender pale finger tips touch her cheek—her imperfect skin. She fully embraced to shiver by his coldness yet it was oddly warm causing her eyes wide filling questions in them.

He wordlessly smiled further, cupping her entire face on his both palm like one would to their deity. Thumps ever so slightly stroke her skin. "You must be dying to know the truth ? How I created ? Breath to live ?" His eyes flicker to hers. She choose to not say.

"Well, it's cause you, all because of you and those humans. Their hopes, admiration, wishes and your believe of me springing to live manifest into a unseen force, a force of blending your believes turning and fueling my life from mere stones. The moment you believed my eyes moved, my eyes spring into live, you believed my hands twitch it gave me life and slowly little by little you were all along bringing me life. My creator, my love. My eve of life". Stretching his lips ear to ear he close their distance, enveloping her lips.

Astonishing her and letting her limbs finally protest against the unwanted touch yet his hands larger, faster, stronger that held her both wrist in one palm, focusing solely on devouring her lips and wrapping tongue above one another, swirling like the taste of saliva and sucking breath out of her leaving her utterly surrender and vulnerable. (Y/N) suffocated by the soul draining kiss she kicked his any part only for him to remain unyielding and finally when he deem to be satisfied he seprated their lips with a glistening string of saliva linked and heavy breathing followed.

"Is this how it feels to need air ?" A husky laugh bubble out of his throat. "Then it's addicting". The sly smile stayed as he branded her skin with tender kisses, tracing a path of desire. The soft curve of her cheek, the tantalizing corner of her lips, the delicate slope of her chin, the whisper-soft lids of her eyes, and the gentle expanse of her forehead like marking her his.

"Stop. Stop all of this madness. Why are you doing this ? If you want to kill me then kill me already why torture me ?" Desperate her breath brush aganist his skin, fearful written on her eyes.

"Aww, there is a misunderstanding between us love, a grave one". He dramatically chuckle. "Why would I want to kill my own creator when you are the reason I even form an shape ? And torture ? Is this torture when I am soaking you in love. This is my passion for you. My burning desire for you". Yearning his brightest shade of eyes hold and rather of feeling moved all she felt was forced.

"But I do not want". Tears prickly down her eyes, watering her vision. "I really do not want this". She threw her head back, moving as her physical self can.

"It's okay. You do love me because if you don't then you wouldn't have created me so love me. Like you are suppose to. Bear the consequences of your actions, darling". Shushing her lips with his finger, he gently kiss the vulnerable curve of her neck and descend in downwards ignoring all of her pleads, protest and fight. Eventually his lips brush against her collarbone and ever so gently he suck the skin purple and red moving to the valley of her chest.

His free hand cup the breast through her dress ignited an fire and blood rush to his pants. Tearing her shirt scattering her buttons he came to face with her lovely bra, the only shield protecting against being bare yet he with ease snatch that away. Laying her upper body to feast by those eyes.

"Hmm" A groan slip past his lips from merely stare at those breast and the outline of her body with the way her blush expression, tears streaming, hands tied by his palm, hair spread beneath her was a divine sight than himself. Oh how he recall watching her from his stone form and yearn to touch those skin which he is now relishing.

Shamelessly his large palm cup her breast earning a sweet whimper and dive to taste if it's sweet as her lips and he was beyond ecstatic, twisting the bud as he please and sucking whole even biting with his canines enjoying the melody of her sobbing and her warmth skin. Before jumping to the another untouched one claiming his like it belonged and butterflies kisses on the entire breasts.

To lacing his tongue on her center of skin, tailing down and stopping at her stomach pecking each imperfect and perfect spots covering her whole. How couldn't he ? If he was served with a human like her, (Y/N) who is in his eyes the prettiest girl to even laid eyes on.

While she is on other end of hell, despising the kisses like an lava drops, burning with a fiery hatred that left her scarred. Every touch was a toxic assault, poisoning her senses and corroding her soul. His lips were venomous serpents, injecting deadly venom into her veins with each caress. His hands are acid, dripping with malice as they crawled across her skin. She couldn't and didn't felt a loving sense from him let alone love he was confessing about. Nightmare his life is.

And he knew about. Knew perfectly of her hatred, pain and still choose to love her because she does love him. She just doesn't know herself or he will make her. That's why he is mastering the very skill to pleasure her in ways a woman could be by ripping her only thread of cloth wrapped around her hip and fully nude her.

Viewing her lay bare, all nude couldn't conceal the heart crafting on Gojo's eyes and the madness smile heating his pale skin. Swiftly he dug his head in between of her legs, inside the clit his cum will enter. Well, for later because now his mouth was engulfed inside, tongue forcefully rip inside to taste the creamy fluids his love made of making her grasp and thrash around more harder than she could.

Even squirming underneath him only to prove fruitless while he continue to taste her juices, eating as if it's a delicacy itself, swallowing down and circling his tongue inside her tight walls, loving every bit of it however his patience comes to end making him pull out his flesh with dripping saliva and ran his fingers past his hair.

"P-Please. Please spare me. Please..." Her voices somewhere blended with her sobbed sorrows and her grasp when he impatiently without preparation unbuckle his restrictions, pulling out his shaft and pierce straight inside her walls.

Arching her back and cry out a scream she felt utter hopeless and pain coursing through her limbs. "It hurts ! I-it hurts". Dragging her air she wail. "It hurts please Gojo. It hurts". pricked at his name Gojo shush her more, whispering sweet nothings like an lover not a rapist he is and claim her lips once more. Even stealing her right to speak.

Heartlessly he slam his throbbing shaft again and again, groaning within the kiss and savouring the feeling. "Ah ! Is this what feels to have sex ? Because if it is then I would do it again and again". Tilting his head, Gojo separated his lips and eventually his hips came to stuttering as he cum inside without a care of world unlike (Y/N) who's heart rattled under her ribcage.

"No ! No ! No ! No ! No ! You monster ! What did you do ?" In disbelief she kicked her tireless legs and dug her nails on his soft skin. Anger filling her mind. "I can be pregnant !" She cried out.

"Really ?" Honestly he asked, laughing. "Then I should do it properly". With that the horrors repeated with his hips penetrate her clit deeper.

Her lips parted echoing her scream along her eyes snap open. Her body jolt up from her bed and gasping for air as if she'd been underwater for too long. Her chest heaved, and her eyes frantically scanned the familiar surroundings of her room. Her clothes clung to her damp skin, a testament to the terror she had endured. "Wai—I am wearing my clothes. Does that mean ?" As reality set in, a wave of relief washed over her—it was just a nightmare, a twisted episode of her own madness, nothing more. Smiling to herself she craved the comfort of her friends so with a sense of urgency, she rushed to their room, catching a glimpse of them at the exhibition hall. She burst in, smiling wider and navigated through the crowd. Her eyes locked onto Nabora, and she grasped her best friend's hand like a lifeline.

"Good morning (Y/N)". Cheerfully she greeted.

"Good morning to you too". She breathed. "I had a nightmare". Her voice confessed. "Believe me or not the worst one".

"What do you mean". Concern fill the girl's face and (Y/N)'s lips about to elaborate when a pair of hands— disgustingly familiar and unsettling— wrapped around her shoulders from behind. A low, husky voice whispered in her ear.

"A nightmare huh ?" Gojo's words dripped with an unsettling intimacy, his tone implying secrets shared and terrors unspoken washing cold bucket of water over her head.

How ?

What ?

Impossible ?

"Right ! Gojo senpai, help your girlfriend ! She is in need of your help". Nobara spoke in an familiar tone to which he replied "of course".

"B-Boyfriend ?" Her words stutter.

"Oh ! Sorry not boyfriend. Fiancé !" She facepalmed herself laughing. Alone. Not with (Y/N) who's questions and terrors trapped in the vice of his embrace.

Leaning closely Gojo tucked her shirt a little making her aware of the intimacy marks she was blind to miss and whispered the bitter truth. "I have become the god of the chisel".

FIN

[multific]

Black Quill

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: You never liked Umbridge, but who did? The woman was miserable and cruel. Her power in the school grew day after day.

You knew about her pen, you heard the tales from other students long before you entered detention.

Seeing the smirk on her face, the power-hungry bitch handed you a piece of paper.

"Now, Miss Y/L/N, today we are going to learn a really important lesson."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, now you didn't feel so confident.

Earlier that day, you were late for her class, and on top of all of that, you even said that her dress as ugly, detention was a given at that point. But you didn’t care.

However, what she made you write was something way more sinister.

You were prepared for a 'I must not be late' or 'I have to respect my teachers' but not this.

You only felt a tear escape your eyes when you left the room, you weren't ready to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry.

You headed back to your room, not wanting to see anyone but of course your friends had another idea. You ran into all of them in the corridor. You assumed they have been waiting for you.

"Ah! Y/N! Finished with detention are you?" Asked Theodore as he was the one to first see you. Mattheo, Pansy, Theodore and Draco were all there, just chatting.

"She made you write with that pen?" Pansy asked and you could only nod.

"I cannot believe they are letting her do this! It is torture!" spoke up Draco.

You stood next to your boyfriend who offered you a warm smile, you smiled back but you could tell he was worried. He moved his arm around you as he smoked and you leaned into him, smelling him and just having him there did help you calm your nerves.

Soon, all of you decided to head back to your dorms to sleep but Mattheo followed you into your common room.

"What did she make you write?" he asked and you turned around to look at him, you opened your mouth to say something but couldn't. "I always know when something is off, and you have been hiding your hand. If it was something simple, you wouldn't hide it in front of me and your friends."

You let out a long sigh before moving your sleeve and showing him your hand.

You watched him closely, you watched his face as sadness turned into anger.

Pure rage.

---

"What?" you asked Umbrige, looking at her in disbelief with the quill in your hand you looked up at her..

"You heard me Miss Y/L/N, start writing." she said as she took a seat at her desk.

"But I-I am here because I was late to class, not b-"

"Stop it. Start writing," she said as she started to sip her tea looking at you with a disgusting smile on her face.

---

"I will kill her."

"Mattheo please." you grabbed his arm as he tried to leave, turning him back to look at you, he was angry, you have never seen him this angry before. "I don't want to be alone." you said, voice barely above a whisper and you knew, this would work, he would stay and hug you. 

And that is exactly what he did.

You felt so safe in his arms, not even the burning of your skin and the words on your skin could distract you.

'I must not love a Riddle.'

But you did. You loved Mattheo and nothing will change your mind, not the pain, and not Umbridge.

You knew this wasn't the end. You knew Mattheo more than anyone. 

After all, when you two started dating almost two years ago, he promised to you and to himself that he will never let his last name be a burden to you.

He will have his revenge.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[a-very-tired-jew]

You're not as informed as you think, and age does play a factor.

This is going to ruffle some feathers, but it needs to be said. You're not as informed on the I/P Conflict and the history of the region as you think, and age plays a major factor. Hell, you're not as informed on a lot of topics as you think. I want you to think about what you were doing 5 years ago. Were you still running around on the playground? Were you making dioramas for a science class? Were you in high school worried about being a first year? Were you just starting to pick out colleges or deciding to even go? Did you ever call a teacher by their first name? Now, there is a line that we hear thrown about that people don't fully mature till they're 25. While this is bupkis and misrepresents the research, it is true that the brain does not stop developing till sometime in the mid to late 20s. In fact, the brains of undergraduates age 18-22 and their respective thought patterns more closely resemble high schoolers than they do mid 20s and above. So what does this mean in the course of the I/P conflict? For one thing, this is your first incident. Your first I/P war. Those of us in our 30s and above have seen a good number of them at this point. I even remember when the use of child suicide bombers became a standard method for Hamas and other terrorist groups during the Second Intifada. As such, many of us are used to the manipulation that we see in this particular region. We're used to seeing antisemitism be dismissed and well intentioned people be manipulated. Many of us are just tired because you're going through the same shit we did at your age and we look back and go "oh, we were severely misinformed". Because this is your first, you're super passionate about it, but that passion can be manipulated. Second, you're not as smart or well informed as you think you are. This has to do with the age and maturation thing mentioned above. While 25 is an arbitrary number, there are some milestones that happen by then. By 25 you have had enough life experience to really start piecing together your education, your life experiences, your world experiences, and your respective beliefs into a coherent way of approaching topics. Hopefully by that age you're less likely to have the emotional outburst in response to a subject (think about the stereotypical slamming the door teenager behavior, many of us did that and we cringe thinking about it) and more likely to approach something in a levelheaded and informed manner. Unfortunately there is some research that shows evidence that Gen Z and Millenials are susceptible to propaganda and misinformation, with the former exhibiting behavior akin to Boomers. So keep that in mind that none of us are safe for misinformation, but some generations are worse than others. Now, who am I to say this to you? Some of you are quite mad right at the moment. Some of you have strived to be seen as well informed young adults or to be taken seriously, and in some cases you are. However...

I'm in my 30s and I have been teaching at the college level for a decade and some change now. By no means am I an expert, but I have enough experience to say something. The ages I teach are 18+, meaning I've had students that are typical fresh high school grads and students that are in their 50s. Myself and my colleagues have heard repeatedly from students the "I'm an adult, I know what I'm doing" line to only watch that 18-22 y.o. student fail miserably or come crying to us later. I have personally watched students go through the stages of grief as they realized in my classes that their pet science activism is not what they thought, but they've wrapped so much of their identity around it. You're still learning, and thinking you know more just because you read something online is an issue. You're also still growing and developing as a person. Recognize that you can be manipulated. Recognize that you can be wrong. Recognize your own inherent biases. Then do better.

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

In another life

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Summary: Reader is transported to another dimension where nobody knows her.

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood and minor injury.

Hope you guys enjoy, I actually found this deep in my drafts and said what the hell and posted.

Next Part

It was just another typical day where Gojo and his students were walking to the destination of their next mission.

"Why do curses have to cause trouble on hot days, ugh what a pain" Nobara groaned shielding her eyes from the scorching sun.

"I told you to bring a hat" Yuji pointed out, somehow unbothered by the tortuous weather.

"But hats are so tacky!"

"Then don't complain" Megumi sighed annoyed as usual.

"Don't worry, we can get some nice cold ice cream after we exorcise the curse, in fact I know the best spot! It's a little hole in the wall place but they have the best- huh?"

Gojo suddenly whipped around at the sudden burst of curse energy he sensed.

"What the hell is that?!" Yuji shouted as he stared at a hole crackling in the sky getting bigger and bigger.

"Not sure, but I don't like what I'm sensing. Everyone be ready..”

"Right" they all tensed and got into attack positions.

What they didn't except though was to see a head pop out of the warp, followed by a body. A woman seemingly limp, began to plummet from the warp. Which promptly closed the second she had left.

"What the hell?" Nobara squinted trying to figure out if the figure looked dangerous.

Gojo didn't feel any malicious energy anymore now that the warp had vanished so he sprung into action and caught the woman before she became a pile of mush on the ground.

"Sensei what if shes dangerous?" Yuji frowned.

"Hm" he kneeled down still holding the woman. He eyed down her figure. She had some scratches and a few bruises but other than that she seemed ok...

So what was a human doing falling through a warp in the sky.

"I don't believe shes a threat, not that I can sense anyway..."

"The energy from that warp felt seriously freaky" Nobara shivered.

Gojo was about to respond when a glint made him freeze. His brows furrowed when he grabbed the girls hand and brought it closer to his face. Now that was definitely peculiar…

"Mm" the group suddenly all jerked to the form now rousing in Gojos arms.

The womans eyes began to open slowly. It took them a moment to adjust to the light but then when they were fully open they suddenly became full of life.

"Eh?! What happened??" Her eyes widened as she looked around, becoming aware of her surroundings. "T-toru!!" No one was more shocked than Gojo as the woman launched her arms around their teacher as if her life depended on it.

"Are you alright? He didn't hurt you did he? Ah Of course he didn’t what am I saying…?! I-I'm sorry you had to come save me again, I don't know how he even snuck up on me!" the woman pulled back only a bit to face him, but still held on. "I promise you can train me as hard as you want from now on and I won't complain anymore"

(From now on you are the woman)

You paused noticing his bewildered expression. "What Is it Toru?"

"Um… not to sound rude or anything but….who are you?”

Your face twitched in shock, "Um Toru, now really isn't the time for jokes you know" you pouted slightly.

It was when he took your arms off of him that you felt something was majorly off.

"I assure you I'm not joking" he gently pushed you off and you shakily got to your feet and so did he.

"I don't...I don't understand...Toru, what do you mean you don't know me?" You tried to quell the panic that was rising. Surely he was just playing a prank right?? Right?!?

"You know who I am it seems…" he stated, eying you curiously.

"Know who you- Satoru Gojo if this is a joke you better stop it right now or I swear I'm going to eat all the kikifuku you brought back yesterday! It's not nice to confuse me after being so close to death you know!!"

He only quirked a brow at this, "Listen lady, you just fell from a hole in the sky, If anyones confused its us..."

This caught your attention, "Wait…What did you say?"

"He's right, you fell from this big hole in the sky miss. It closed right away after you came through". Your eyes drew to the new voice and you realized the others were here too.

"Yuji..." his eyes widened and he pointed to himself, "You know me?"

You felt your panic rise more, "Of course I know you! All of you, Megumi, Nobara you're all like family to me, why don't you know who I-" you froze. A cold fear overtaking you. The hole. His technique. You got caught up in it. You weren't saved. Satoru hadn't made it in time.

"I t-think, I u-um" you felt your breathing begin to quicken and forming words seemed impossible.

"I t-think I got t-t-transported by the curse I was f-fighting" you felt your whole body shaking and tried to control your breathing.

"Hey calm down, we'll figure things out soon enough" you stepped back abruptly knowing what that tone and outstretched hand meant.

"D-don't knock me out, you promised you wouldn't do it anymore.." although you supposed that this Gojo had no idea.

He seemed troubled at what to do but sighed a moment later.

"For now why don't we just head back to the school..." you reguarded him for a moment then hesitantly shook your head.

"Alright..." you silently followed everyone, feeling more nervous with every silent step.

The quiet was maddening and you were grateful that Yuji spoke up finally,probably becoming aware of your borderline panic attack "Don't worry, weird things are always happening here. We'll figure whatever this is out ok?" You managed to crack a little tired smile.

"Yeah".

*************************************************

Of the many times you had been sat across Yaga, this was the first time you were ever intimidated.

"Start from the beginning" was all he said as you fidgeted in discomfort. Gojo stood beside Yaga, leaning back on the wall, while Yaga sat imposing as if he was dealing with a curse.

You took a deep breathe and recalled what had happened just before all this madness.

"Well I was just leaving my house to go to the school... I recieved a message saying I needed to report there immediately and I didn't hesitate, thinking maybe something bad had happened...but on the way I was attacked by a curse. I'm not really much of a fighter but I am a little skilled at barriars, so I was able to shield myself against his attacks. The curse became frustrated when he realized he couldn't land a major hit and before I knew it he had sent a huge blast in my direction. I shielded but it didn't matter, I remember feeling really hot and then the next thing I knew I was waking up in Satoru’s arms..."

You peeked at Yaga and saw he was deep in thought. Finally after painful silence he finally spoke, "This curse you fought, what did it look like?"

"He looked kinda like that tree curse thing that the kids fought back at the exchange event, except his presence was..." it was then something struck you. You recall feeling something was off the entire fight. Something oddly familiar and it had just hit you what that was. The smell the energy the odd aura.

"Wait…” both men perked up at this.

"What is it?"

"That's why he felt so familiar!" you said more to yourself in your horror.

"Who are you talking about?"

"The curse...he felt familiar because I've sensed that same presence before..."

They waited for you to continue, "Back when Toru and Megumi first recovered that cursed object...and had me place an extra seal on it...but Toru never mentioned it was stolen? Why didn't he say anything...unless it wasn't stolen but then how did he get unseal- shit"

You ran a hand over your face, "You were right about the spy after all Toru..."

"How can you know all this- the exchange event, who we are, private information if we don't even know who you are?” Yaga eyed you suspiciously.

"I think I can answer that" all eyes snapped to Gojo.

"You mentioned a curse being unsealed, one that megumi and I brought in correct?"

You nodded

"Its a just a theory but I have a hunch I'm correct, tell me, what was the curses name?"

"Ah um...lemme think, it was definitely...uh...ama...amamoo, amamee, uh wait...."

"Amamotetsu?" Gojo offered which promptly made Yaga flinch in shock.

"Yeah that's it!" You jumped up.

"Amamotetsu-! But how?!" Yaga tensed shooting up.

"I'm not sure how he got unsealed but...this isn't the first time I've heard this type of thing happening before.."

This caught your attention, "What do you mean?"

"When Megumi and I first retrieved the curse, we teamed up with Nanami. He was the one who told us about this curse's history... apparently this particular curse is known for transcending through times and universes-"

"W-what?" You felt your body slump down. What did that mean?? Did that mean you- that you were in a different universe?! How-what- you felt your whole body begin to shake.

This was the first time Yaga seemed to let down his guard because he now was beginning to understand you weren't a threat.

You felt something warm being placed on your shoulders. You looked up at Yaga through blurred lenses.

"Yaga..." your voice broke as did the dam holding back your tears... how could this have happened?! What were you even supposed to do?! And Satoru, what was he even going through now?!"

"Listen, theres no need to panic, we'll figure it out alright?" He assured you, but it wasn't quite the same knowing he didn't know you." You nodded anyway.

"Satoru, why don't you call Nanami, we'll see what more he can tell us...in the meantime it would help if we knew some more about you and the curse." You nodded and braced yourself for the onslaught of questions.

"First off, it's quite clear you're close to us, so are you a teacher here or something?" You a teacher? If you weren't so upset you'd laugh

"Teacher? No, I actually work in the city..but I do help out occasionally at the school when I'm needed.."

"So then how did you get involved with us in the first place?" you looked over to where Satoru was finishing the call with Nanami.

"Well...Satoru helped me fight off a curse one time, that's how we met. He basically saved me and then convinced me to train with him...since then I've always kinda been around.." you twiddled with the ring on your finger, more specifically the ring he gave you on that special day.

Yaga must've of noticed your hesitance. "Something tells me there's more to the story.." you looked up with sad eyes, then over to where satoru was also now tuned in, phone in his pocket. You took a deep breathe.

"No it's just, it's finally sinking in ya know..." you decided to keep that part about your relationship quiet for now. You were already overwhelmed and just wanted to lie down for awhile. Your injured although mild still hurt and you were now feeling the true exhaustion settle in.

Yaga looked at you sympathetically then nodded, "Why don't you rest for little, Satoru?" He got off the wall, "Nanami will come by tonight, for now I'll take her to Shoko. Yaga nodded then patted your shoulder gently, "Try to get some sleep, we'll figure all this out" you thanked him quietly then followed Satoru out the room.

You quietly trailed behind him in the dim hallway. His back had never made you feel so lonely.

You didn't even realize you were crying until you felt the coldness on your cheeks. Satoru pasued a sec to turn around.

"Hey, there's no need for tears, didn't you hear us? We'll figure it out"

You nodded despondently.

"C'mon, have I ever let you down before?" He smirked.

You smirked through the tears, "Always so confident, no matter what universe huh" you wiped away your tears with your sleeve and walked next to him.

"Well I am the strongest, I'm sure any other version of me would no doubt be the same"

"Yeah maybe arrogant is the better word.."

"Awe don't be mean now, after all for you to be so casual around me, we must be friends yeah?"

"Yeah you could say that..." you absentmindedly twirled the ring around your finger. Remembering the way he proposed all those years ago.

"And here we are, Shoko!” He called busting inside without knocking.

"How many times have I told you not just to barge in here?”

"Well it's an emergency of sorts"

"Huh?" She finally looked up from her work.

You waved shyly.

"And who's this?"

"Well now that's a bit complicated..."

**************************************************

"Take it easy alright, and if you need anything here's my cell"

"Thanks Shoko, oh wait my phone!" You suddenly remembered and frantically patted your body down.

You sighed in relief pulling out the device, seemingly unharmed by some miracle.

But then your brows furrowed seeing the blue case instead of your own and a sticky note with a tongue sticking out. *Bring this to me at work will you baby, then I can see your beautiful face*

You felt your irritation rise, "Of all the days Satoru you had to switch our phones today!? Ugh" you ripped off the note, usually you loved these little pranks but now you wanted to kill him.

"Huh what did I do?"

"Sorry not you, other you.." you clicked the on button and tried a variety of passwords.

Dammit satoru

"Wait is that my phone?" He peered over your shoulder.

You perked up, "yeah it is! Do you know the password?”

"Hmm lemme try" he grabbed it out of your hands and you waited anxiously.

"Got it"

"Wait really?!"

"Yep, All great gojos think alike-" he suddenly froze.

"What's wrong?" You eyed him curiously but he just stared at his phone dumfoundedly.

"How close did you say we were again...?"

Shoko curious leaned over and her eyes went wide.

"What do you mean, what are you looking at?" You moved next to him and gasped at the saved screen. A picture of you asleep in bed in something strappy, barely covered by the sheets and toru leaned over kissing your cheek.

"AH DON'T LOOK" you tried snatching the phone away but he held It above his head.

Ugh his stupid tallness!!

"Satoru wait!" You reached helplessly as he started scrolling through his camera roll. You were mortified to learn that most of them were candid shots of you. Some appropriate and some not.

You excersizing bent over, your sillohette behind the shower curtain, you licking a lollipop, you wearing a shirt of his on laundry day…

"Geez were you stalking her or something" shoko commented disturbed.

"Satoru! please!" Finally he let you snatch the phone back. Your face hotter than the sun.

"So I guess that's what you were hiding..."

you sighed knowing you couldn't keep it hidden much longer.

"I guess that explains a little why you have my grandmothers ring..”

this got your attention.

"Wait what??" Your eyes widened.

"This is you're grandmothers ring?!"

"You mean you didn't know...?" Shoko asked.

"No...you just gave it to me, but you never said it was hers" You felt a rush of warmth knowing how much she meant to him. Probably the only member of his clan that actually cared for him. Sadly she passed when he was young. The truth is this was the ring he gave you when he proposed- or more like told you he was gonna marry you and you didn't have a choice- not that you were gonna say no to the cocky idiot.

"So what's your relationship with other Gojo then?" Shoko asked.

"Well uh...that's a little...." You hesitated wondering if you should say.

"Might as well say it, I mean obviously other me and you are pretty close" he motioned to the phone.

sigh

here goes

"I guess some might say...well if you look at it one way...um... I guess legally and technically other you, and me are what some might call...married"

"What no way?! Gojo actually settled down!?”

“Hey don’t sound so surprised! Although to be honest.. I’m finding that a little hard to believe myself..”

“Well you weren’t exactly a one woman guy when I met you..”you recalled all his various flings in the time before you were dating.

“The other me must be worried then huh?”

I sigh, “I wonder if you’ve figured out what happened yet..”

“Don’t worry, I’m really smart, there’s no way I wouldn’t know”

“Cocky bastard” I let out a tired laugh.

BZZZT BZZZT BZZZT

“Huh?”

“Wait is other gojos phone ringing?”

“Yeah it says “Wifey is calling..”

“What no way!? How?!” I jump to grab the phone and answer the call. Not knowing really what to expect. Maybe the tower got mingled weirdly.

“H-hello??” I call out anxiously.

“Y/n? Where are you!?”

“T-Toru!!!” I can’t help but cry out.

“Are you ok? What happened?? Why can’t I sense your energy in the city?”

“T-Toru I was attacked on the way to the school! I think that curse- amamama got free and he sent me to another dimension!!!”

“Babe..have you been drinking?”

“I’m serious Toru! That curse! The one you and Megumi brought for me to add a seal to! He sent me to another dimension! I’m here with another version of you!!”

“…is this payback for because I said your ass got bigger? Because you know I meant that as a compliment.”

“Y-you idiot!! I’m serious!!”

“No kidding? You’re being serious?”

“Would I joke about something like this?”

“… hold on a sec” a woosh sound emits from the speaker

“Shit..”

“Toru?”

“I just transported to the road. I can sense the residual energy…I see blood, were you hurt?” He sounds more serious now.

“I’m ok.. Shoko fixed me up..”

“So what…you’re in a dimension parallel to ours?”

“Not exactly… I guess I don’t exist here.. or at least I’m not apart of everyone’s lives..”

“…don’t worry alright? I’ll figure this out, have I ever let you down?”

I give this gojo a knowing look,

“Never.”

“Plus my birthdays coming up, and you promised to do that thing I like as much as I want so how can I let you be in another dimension for too long?”

“Ah Toru you’re on speaker you know!!”

“Hey other me you there?!” Your gojo suddenly shouted.

“Uh yep I’m here..”

“This is definitely a first.. ahem well anyway until I get this sorted out take care of our girl alright?!She’s pretty weak so keep an ey-“

“Hey!”

“As I was saying, keep an eye on her. Also make sure she gets iron pills from the pharmacy since hers are here. Oh and she’s allergic to tuna and if she stays out in the sun too long she’ll get this weird rash-“

“I’m hanging up” you reached for the button.

“Hey cmon I’m not there-well I’m kind of there but I just wanna make sure my baby is taken care of!!”

“I’m an adult not a child! You don’t need to say all these things, I can take care of myself here just fine!!”

“Pfft says the one who made me transport home in the middle of a mission to kill a cockroach.”

“IT HAD WINGS”

“Alright alright, I know you’re a big girl. Let me go so I can figure this all out quickly and get you back.”

“Yeah..ok”

“Hey, no crying ok?”

“Ok.. I guess I’ll talk to you later? We are meeting Nanami here because he has knowledge about the curse apparently. I’ll let you know how that goes..”

“Alright, later then.”

“Love you Toru…”

“Not as much as I love me”

“Pfft asshole”

“Heh, there’s that laugh I love so much. love ya sweetheart, be careful ok?”

“I will”

*click*

For the first time since your arrival you felt some relief.

You awkwardly looked up to the pair and found Shoko dumbfounded and satoru scratching the back of his head.

“Still can’t believe it…”

“Um well that was definitely a first…”

“So what now?” Shoko took a drag seeming bored already.

“Now we go and see if Nanami can make sense of this. Come on, he’s waiting for us.” He motioned and you followed with a bit more hope now.

The power of two Gojos with one goal? Yeah you’d be home before you knew it.

Should I continue this? Make it into a series? Lemme know:) thanks for reading!

Part 2

[cheriladycl01]

Fast Cars on the Island - Oscar Piastri x LoveIslandContestant! Reader Part 4

Plot: Your an engineer for Mclaren and you were asked as a PR stunt to go onto Love Island. You would keep your job of course but Mclaren wanted some more media traction.

A/N: I know they would never do this, and that's why its fiction!

Around the fire pit:

“Oh god I’m so nervous? They didn’t say genders or anything” Zavi cries looking towards you as the boys start to take their seats.

“What do you think it will be?” Charlie asks you and you shrug, having no idea how the producers would sway it. Two boys, two girls or a boy and a girl. Whatever they did at this point would stir up some kind of drama.

“I’m not sure, but I think it will probably be one of each” you hand him a small smile.

“I think you might be right Y/N” Aaron smiles at you before getting some nods from the other girls.

“It just makes the most logical sense to me, and then that way it still is the girls choice” you smile nodding.

“Why am I so nervous!” Millie exclaims shaking your shoulders a little. She sits next to Daniel who wraps an arm around her shoulder.

After more conversing, the sound of the sliding glass doors to the Villa make all your heads turn seeing a guy and girl walk out through the curtains.

“Hey!” the girl cheerily smiles with a little wave.

“Sup” the guy next to her cheekily smiles before making their way over to the fire pit.

“Hiya! Omg it’s so exciting to have you here! Please introduce yourself!” Auriela gestures for them to take seats around the fire pit.

The guy sits in between Aaron and Zavi, whilst Chelsea sits in between you and Chris.

“I’m Max, I’m 26 and I work as a secondary school maths teacher” the guy smiles and your head snaps to him in shock, with a small giggle. You could imagine all of his students finding out he was in love island and teasing the hell out of him for it.

“Im Chelsea I’m 25 and I’m a Tattoo Artist” she offers and you all nod.

You all talk, getting to know the two newbies whilst still finding stuff out about the current contestants.

Two phones ping simultaneously from Max and Chelsea making you all nervously fidget. You knew from having watched the show that it would be the two new islanders either choosing dates or the public choosing them dates.

“Max, please get ready for two dates tonight chosen by public choice. You’ll have your main course with Millie and your dessert with Y/N” he reads out the text and you look up in shock.

Were the public trying to make your life harder than it already was in this Villa. You weren’t ready for the drama that would most likely unfold.

“Chelsea please get ready for two dates tonight chosen by public choice. You’ll have your main course with Aaron and your dessert with Charlie” Chelsea reads out.

And with that you watched as Millie left with Max and Chelsea left with Aaron for their first dates. You immediately walked over to Daniel to comfort him.

“Hey, look I know it’s not fun” you sigh patting his back and he looks down.

“Is it bad of me to admit I’m more worried about going home this early on than possibly loosing Millie?” He jokes but you know what he means, people who went out this early on never felt like that had a full shot.

“I get that, and I think you being a lot to the Villa Daniel, despite it being night one i can see a friend in you that extends to outside this villa” you smile at him.

“Yeah me too” he nods.

“Look, you deserve to stay in if Millie gets chosen AND Aaron gets chosen by Chelsea. I’ll pick you any day of the week” you smile at him nudging his side teasingly, but he has a serious look on his face.

“Thank you Y/N seriously!” He says pulling you into a hug.

Lando and Oscar:

“Woah, talk about bombshells” Lando says chewing on a sweet that Oscar had brought over to his hotel room. It had became a weekly Sunday thing for them after races to watch you on the TV. It was kind of a weird feeling seeing you in these kinds of places and in this way when they were used to you in team gear around the paddock looking at data or fixing the car.

“Who do you recon they’ll end up with?” Oscar asks.

“What the newbies?” Lando replies finally taking his eyes of the screen. Oscar just nods letting Lando know that is what he meant.

“I recon Chelsea will choose Aaron and then Max will choose Millie, and Y/N is the type to go back on her word so she’ll end up with Daniel and both get to Casa Amore together if they have too” Lando explains as if he is an expert.

“Interesting” Oscar admits, only thinking of Casa Amore, when 4 new islanders for each gender came to the villa.

Back at the Villa:

It was time for your date with Max and both you and Charlie walked out the Villa together before turning in separate directions.

You walked up to a little gazebo with foliage and fairy lights around it, it was a really nice set up and you couldn’t help but feel lucky to have a date in such a nice area.

Throwing yourself into your career meant that you didn’t really have time to experience all the countries you got to see with someone else. It was always you alone.

“This is really nice” you smile to him.

“Yeah i wish I could take credit for it but definitely can’t” he laughs and you guys end up having a really good night. You ask him about teaching only to find out his students had no idea he’d come into the tv show.

And before you know it, it’s time to go back.

You were all sat around the campfire apart from Chelsea and Max who were stood next to each other ready to choose.

“I’m choosing this guy because he was really genuine and sweet on our date and I can see myself progressing furthest with him as of right now. We connected a lot on the date and I believe he is the right choice”

“The boy i would like to couple up with is Aaron” Chelsea finishes and Aaron begrudgingly goes to stand next to her after sharing small eye contact with you.

Max goes next a smile on his face.

“So the girl I want to couple up with, made me feel like we had a connection straight away. Talking to her was so natural and I felt like this is the right choice. I’m not normally one to step on people’s toes but it’s a really different environment in here and I’ve come at a really difficult point of the show”

“So the girl I have chosen to couple up with is Millie” he smiles and Millie looks down but you can tell she is smiling and blushing. You caught eyes with Daniel who didn’t look to put of by the situation. He nods to you, communication of what you’d do at the recoupling now it had swung the way you thought it would.

You were slightly gutted that Aaron was now coupled up and it felt like you two were never actually going to have a chance together.

You heard was all over the place, was this still just PR or were you actually wanting to find someone in here … and was that someone Aaron.

“Okay, in this order from yesterdays challenge the girls will pick who they want to couple up with. Auriela, Zavi, and Y/N” the presenter says and Auriela stands up.

“So I’ve been coupled up with this guy from the start and I want to see where things go as we’ve been having loads of fun getting to know one another, we have loads in common and I can’t wait to see where this goes. The boy id like to couple up with is Chris” Auriela smiles.

Zavi stands up next, looking a little nervous.

“So I want to couple up with this boy because our chats in the Villa lately have seriously changed my opinion on him. He’s really sweet and caring and I don’t think he was given a proper first chance so the boy id like to couple up with is …” she pauses as if she’s debating what she’s going to do.

“Charlie” and gasps come around, no one having expected her to have gone with him.

Lando and Oscar:

“NO WAY! That’s crazy! I thought she was going to stay with that Jai” Oscar exclaims.

“Dude you could tell with those conversations they were having yesterday they were getting it on” Lando chuckles taking a sip of his Red Bull.

“I thought they were just getting to know each other!” Oscar explains to him, not having seen the longing eyes shared or the flirty undertones.

“And that my friend is why you got nowhere with Y/N when she was here” Lando teases, and it was supposed to be a joke but they both knew there was some truth behind that.

Back in the Villa:

“Okay it’s time for our final girl, to choose who she will end up with. Very strange circumstance for you Y/N” the presenter says as you stand up at the front.

“Yeah it’s been an interesting one that’s for sure. And I think I haven’t fully been able to make connections yet which is a shame and I want to be stable going into the next recoupling after this and I think discussions were held before about what I was going to do depending on the outcome of Max and Chelsea’s choices, this is a game and I have to be strategic so the boy id like to couple up with is Daniel” you smile and he comes up to you, to finally stand next to you and kisses your temple.

“Thank you” he whispers and you just smile and nod.

“I always keep my promises” you smile tugging on his arm in a friendly way.

You all start to say goodbye to Jai, sad that one of the original islanders was gone before heading off to your new sleeping arrangements.

“Night islanders” Charlie shouts as he cuddles Zavi from the back grinning like a school boy before he pulls her down and under the covers.

A chorus of replies cross the room before the lights dim for the night.

You and Daniel quietly talk to each other about the day, trying not to disturb your fellow islanders before sleep finds the both of you.

Lando and Oscar:

“I’m guess what she does within McLaren will come out soon… PR have a close eye on this, for obvious reasons” Oscar observes making Lando laugh.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure they’d have a field day if she started having sex on camera while being under the McLaren name. PR nightmare” Lando chuckles but it makes Oscar freeze.

He forgot how raunchy the dating show could be, and he couldn’t help but he jealous of anyone on the show who got even the tiniest bit closer to that than he ever did.

“The headlines would ruin her” Oscar agrees with a shudder whilst they continue to watch on as the credits roll for this weekends episode.

A/N: A lot of people are suggesting Oscar go into the Villa and he will, but … only when the time is right :)

Also sorry I haven’t posted on a while, going from being on holiday to the chaos of moving into a new house I haven’t had much time lately.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[blondehya]

GIRL I NEED MIZU BEING A BULLY IN COLLEGE (she actually isn't, it's just rumors because of her aura, people are kinda scared of her) she's like tall, arm with tattoos, rides a motorcycle, sunglasses, leather jacket, WHO WOULDN’T BE SCARED????

So she has a secret crush on reader (who is also a little bit afraid of her based on the rumors) who is the complete opposite of her. So Mizu tries to be kind (even though it's hard and she's a nervous mess)

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mizu x fem!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: OMG BEST REQUEST I’VE EVER RECEIVED I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 😭

you were at that school long enough to know the single most important thing: stay away from mizu, always, that girl means problem.

many people believe that she is respected a lot, but she is just feared. being a tall girl, tattooed arms, and driving a motorcycle is enough to make people’s head going down while she passes. who wouldn't be afraid?

“hi, excuse me. i’m here to bring my absence certificate from friday.”

“hello sweetie! give me a minute.”

you wait patiently for the inspector to sort things out, and before leaving he calls you.

“wait, your geography teacher had to leave, so you should go to the history class right now. hush, it already started.”

you thank him and run in a clumsy way to the history classroom, and calmly open the door.

“please, come in. you can sit with mizu right there.”

everything seemed to go in slow motion. the slightly laugh of some students, and the pitying faces of others. of course, the chair with her had to be the only one free! you approach and sit down, apprehensive.

the thought of looking at her flashes through.

come on, say hi or make a sign so you don't get into trouble with her later!

you move your head towards her, smile and nods trying to say hello. she just looks at you and returns her attention to the teacher seconds later. what if she didn’t liked you?!

oh, for sure i am in trouble… what if that sign means something rude in her country?!

the teacher starts to speak again.

“since this material is over, let's ask some review questions to see if everyone understood.” she pauses for a second. “you know what? i will pick according to the numbers on the attendance list.”

several students sigh in sadness. you feel relieved in fact, you studied a good part of the content. you quickly look at mizu, she looks like a statue... wow!

“who is number… eighteen?”

“me, miss.”

the boy stands up in his chair and waits for the questions. he responds clearly and satisfies the teacher.

“number seven?”

being taken out of my thoughts, i stand up confident and i look at the teacher smiling.

“paleolithic japanese incorporates the oldest known polished stone tools in the world. this technology is associated with the beginning of the neolithic, which takes place in what time?”

fuck you, fuck me, fuck everyone! what kinda of quest is that?!

“ah… it’s b.c right?” her expression changes. several students start whispering and laughing at you.

my heart starts racing and i feel like i'm going to fall ov—

huh?

did mizu just pushed her leg against mine?

she wants me to get distracted and fail at everything! i’m just gonna ignore it.

but why is she placing both hands clearly open on her thighs…

it couldn’t be…

“ten thousand before christ…?”

“yes! correctly lady!”

you sit in the chair again but in disbelief, happy with the teacher’s smile. your gratitude hides all the thoughts that previously hovered in your mind, so you get close to mizu and whispers:

“thank you so much, i owe you one for saving me.”

for the first time she looks at you and... and smiles... mizu can actually smile, and what a beautiful vision you think.

“it’s nothing. no need to thank me.”

her voice is actually so pretty… it has nothing scary. why would people call her scary?

you think to yourself.

the class continues without worries and finally comes to an end.

“bye, mizu!” you say in a joyful tone. you were proud to know now that she wasn’t that scary bully monster everyone calls her.

“ah, wait a minute, please. you were the only person who talked with me in ages. so… you don’t find me weird or anything…?”

“i was a fool influenced by rumors. you are a good person, mizu. i am sorry for everything.”

ah…

why is she BLUSHING?!

“haha… good to know...” she scratches her head nervously. “so, do you want my number? like, so we can talk more, not that i want to ask you out. in fact, i want to! but not now.”

you look at her surprised, she is a real mess.

“i’m so sorry… you were the only one who talked to me without that strange scared face. i thought we could at least extend it more.”

“of course we can!” you smile brightly to her.

you two exchange numbers and start to get close, very close to a level where she picks you up and drops you off at home every single day.

“hello dove, it’s cold today. hold on tight.”

you do as she says. mizu’s body is bigger and of course more warm, it’s like your own big plushie to squeeze and hug. also… it’s no longer a secret anymore! everyone at school knows you two are inseparable forever.

“taigen asked me if we are dating…” you declare this, lying on her chest on the lawn.

“how could he?” she puts her leg over yours.

[oval3000]

Chapter 5

Yandere Teacher Nanami x Student Reader

Warning: Abuse, (force) smut. Abduction, violence, rough play, toxic behavior, age gap, everything from all above. Mainly from his point of view...somewhat... modern au- ish idk. College teacher x student.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

-------------------------------------------------------

"Mr. Nanami?" A man in a suit knocked on his classroom door. Nanami was grading some paperwork before his next class. He turned to the side and saw the man alongside some police officers." I hope we're not interrupting you? I'm detective Aki, this is officer Yamada and officer Fujikawa. We want to ask questions about one of your students, (Y/N)."

"Sir." Nanami stood as the man and two police officers entered, closing the door. Nanami knew this day would come. How could he not know? "Of course. Miss (Y/n) hasn't attended my classes for the past month.

"That's why we're here. Her friend had filed a missing person's report on her and we just want to know if you may know anything regarding her disappearance." The detective said.

"The last time I saw her, was when she was sitting on one of the campus benches. I asked her if everything was alright and she told me she was waiting for her ride." He explained. " She seemed a little down and mentioned something about an ex-boyfriend. I've dealt with many of my students who were dealing with hard breakups so I didn't think too much of it."

"Ex-boyfriend?" The detective said.

"Yes. I don't know his name it was never said, but she did mention an ex-boyfriend and by the look of it, it's not something she seemed happy about." Nanami looked at the detective as he jotted down what he was saying.

"Was she acting strange while attending your classes before her disappearance? Did she seem a little down?" Aki asked.

"No. She was a normal student. In fact, she was my best student. Although she had trouble with one assignment, she would stay after her classes for help. Other than that, she was fine. However, I am a teacher with many students, so I might've not pay too much attention to her because of the others, who might be in the same position as her. College is college. Nothing changes." Nanami fixed his glasses and sighed. "Her family must be worried sick if she hasn't shown up." Nanami asked, almost looking a bit sad.

Aki raised his eyebrow. "Have you noticed her disappearance?"

"I did at first. She never missed a class ever. Then again. I have many students who don't bother showing up for months."

"Why is that?" He asked.

"They want to give up. Math is too hard. Struggling with mental illness. I've been working here for ten years, I've seen at all." Nanami sighed, looking down at his papers. "Sadly, no matter what I do, I can't always fix their problems when it's out of my reach. I should've asked Miss. (Y/N), about what was bothering her that day. That was my mistake."

Aki looked at Nanami, who still kept a normal composer. "So her disappearance wasn't too strange for you?"

"Like I said, at first it did. Then again, it's not the first time a student stopped showing up here. I guess I was wrong about that." Nanami raised his eyebrows. "Has anyone seen her since then?" He asked so concerned.

"No, we're working on a timeline on who might've. So far, you're the last person who has seen her. However, no one mentioned an ex-boyfriend before." Aki tapped his little notepad with his pen.

"Oh. it makes sense now." Nanami scratched his head.

"What makes sense?" Aki questioned.

"When she mentioned the ex-boyfriend, it went like this." He hummed, " 'My ex-boyfriend is a jerk who only thinks about himself. We were hardly boyfriend and girlfriend since we dated for three months.' It was confusing to me. I don't know what these young adults think now about relationships; now there is a thing called situationship' or whatever it's called. Every day, I hear students talk about their 'situationship'—are they boyfriend and girlfriend? I don't know what kids are up to these days." He explained. "I was puzzled because, aren't boyfriend and girlfriend, boyfriend and girlfriend? Now, I realize, it must've been one of those situations where you're just with a guy, just cause, with no title. Now it makes sense why it's called situationship'. Either way, it can still break someone's heart. Maybe that's why no one mentioned him; it didn't seem like what they saw was a relationship. Nonetheless, for Miss (Y/n), it must've been more than that, but it was overlooked."

"Did she mention anything about this ex-boyfriend or lover she had?" The detective asked, jotting down as much information as he got.

"No. She was on her phone during the little conversation we had so it was cut short. I swear those kids are always on their phones like they're addicted to them." Nanami picked up his papers and hit them on the desk countertop to straighten them in place. He checked his watch and saw the time. "My next class is about to start. Is there anything I can help with?"

The detective closed his notepad, "No that'll be all for today. Thank you, Mr. Nanami." He shook his hand and headed his way out alongside the two officers.

"Oh! Please tell (Y/N)'s family my condolences. She's one of my students here. Hope she's found soon." Nanami said.

The detective gave him a sympathetic smile, "Sadly, her parents died recently, in a car accident. I'll tell her friend though, she's worried sick about her."

Nanami went back to teaching his class. He went on to be a normal regular teacher. He saw the detective and two officers roaming around, talking to other students and teachers. He kept his usual face and went on with his day. He would hear his colleagues about you, how they're saddened that you just vanished.

Some came up and spoke to Nanami since you were in his class, and he gave them the same type of response he gave to Detective Aki. When he got into his car, he drove off.

He went on to run some errands really quickly and got some snacks and a beverage. He went and decided to stop by a public library and started to use the public computers and continued to do some paperwork and make new homework and test assignments.

He looked at the time got up from his chair, logged off, and walked away from the library building. He got back in his car and drove off to a food place.

He ordered a meal for himself and ate in his car while grading more of his paperwork. When the sun was completely gone, he went to a copy, and fax machine place that was open 24 hours and started to make multiple copies before heading his way home near midnight.

He did this routine for 3 weeks. 3 whole weeks. 3 torture weeks for him.

The day he saw a man getting arrested on the college campus with Detective Aki and the two officers, his 3 whole weeks ended.

He got out of work, he went on to the library, and used the computer for some time. He went to an electronic store and bought himself a new computer. He got into his car and drove home.

He opened the door that was inside the garage and placed the store bag on the kitchen counter.

He walked upstairs and opened the bedroom door. "Sorry, I'm late. Work has been chaotic." He stared at you with your eyes glossy and the rag on your mouth. Your hands were still tied up to the headboard. He went towards and touched the rag and pulled it out. " Sorry about this, sweetheart. It was just a precaution. On the good news, they arrested that ex-boyfriend of yours. It wasn't good for him when they saw all the texts he had 'sent' you. Too bad they found your phone on his property."

"P-please...don't hurt me...Please don't hurt me." You cried to him.

He grabbed your cheeks with his hand, "Who's your best friend?" When you didn't answer him, he grabbed onto you harder, "Answer me!"

"E-Emi." You told him.

"Well, that Emi bitch made those 3 weeks a living fucking hell for me and I'm not too happy about that, sweetheart." He sighed and let you go. "At first I thought your family was gonna be in my way, but it turns out is Emi. Tell me, what should I do?"

You shook your head.

"You're right. It'll be too suspicious." He got on the bed and laid next to you. "I'm just happy to be with you." He slid his hand down to your body and stopped once it reached your stomach. "It must've been lonely here for you. Tell me something else, do you want some company while I'm gone?"

You felt your body shiver with his touch and talk. "N-no."

"No? You're fine here without me? Because if you ever feel alone, I can change that." He rubbed your stomach.

"I'm fine. I-I'm okay." You pulled your knees up to your chest feeling chills going through your body.

"I love you, I hope you know that." He said, smiling at you. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your body. "I'm doing this all for you."

He kissed your cheek, "This is all for love."

SPOILERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Sorry for the long wait! R.I.P to Nanami 😩)

[ludwigplayingthetrombone]

Had to split the last chapter into 2 separate ones bc i got a bit overzealous with this one... so here’s chapter 3! may be a longer bit before 4′s ready, but  Enjoy! [tw: blood, mentions of suicidal thoughts/ death/ survivors guilt]

Ch1 Ch2

Tsunade: Enter. Kks: Mornin’. Tsunade: Kakashi. I got your message. So, Gai made it out of the coma, huh. I’ll go see how his condition is when I’m done here. Kks: I’m sure he’ll love that, but that’s not why I’m here. Tsunade: Are you looking for work? I can assign you-. Kks: More of a discussion. About the hokage thing.

Tsunade: Are you finallt giving me an answer? Kks: Yup. I’m saying no. I’m not interested. However, if there is truly no one else, I have a compromise if you’re interested.

Tsunade:It’d better be a good deal, brat. The council won’t be happy with this. You were about to accept months ago. Why say no now? Kks: Alot’s changed since then.

Gai: Papa

[gai sighs] [window sliding]

Kks: Yo. Gai: Rival!! Happy to see you! Kks: I see you’ve had visitors

Gai: Yes! I am so lucky and moved! Especially from our students! Kks: How are you feeling? Gai: Sore. Stiff. But much better than this morning. [kks hums] Kks: Sorry I took so long. Got caught up. Gai: Nonsense! I was honored to wake up to see both of your beautiful eyes first thing. You look so youthful! You left in such a hurry, you left your shoes. Kks: Yeah, had a soggy walk to my apartment. Can’t return those slippers now. Gai: How are /you/ feeling?

Gai: You seemed so overwhelmed and I couldn’t move. I feel like i’ve missed so much. Kks: I’m ok now. Just needed some air. Plus, sorted some things I’d been neglecting. I knew you’d be flooded with visitors. So, I stayed out of the way. Gai: Pretty cool response per usual. Kks: I think you’re pretty cool

Kks: How long are you stuck here? Did they say? Gai: A few weeks. Most of it depends on the physical therapy progress. My chakra network is fried. It’ll be slow to heal if at all. They’ve never treated my condition before, so the doctors are not sure what’ll happen

Kks: Did Tenten tell you about her plans? Kankuro even offered his experience building a prosthetic. Gai: Yes. She was very excited. Kks: /You/ don’t seem as enthused. What’s bugging you? you’re usually delighted by your team’s passion or whatever. Gai: I am truly touched because I know she’ll give it her all, but...

Gai: It won’t make a difference. Kks: What did the doctor say? Gai: Even if I can stand or walk, I’ll have lasting damage and pain. I’ll need a wheelchair the rest of my life. My time as an active duty shinobi is done.

Kks: You’ll get through this. Gai: What am I going to do, ‘Kashi? Kks: You’re stubborn enough. I’m sure you’ll find a way to prove them wrong. Like walking on your hands or something. You’ll be a menace in a wheelchair in no- Gai: I do not want you or my students burdened by my injury

Kks: That’s what you’re worried about? You think mourning you would have been any easier on anyone? You’re more to them than just a teacher. If you could have Dai back right now, wouldn’t you want that? Gai: Of course I would. Kks: Then see it from their perspectives. Don’t just lie down and accept this is how your life ends. That’s not how Dai raised you.

Kks: This is terrifying to deal with, Gai, It’s ok to feel overwhelmed. But please don’t give up. I won’t let you. Gai: I was prepared to die Kks: ...I’ve understood wanting to be dead for a long time. I get it. Gai: I do not regretn my decision at all. Regardless, I’ve hurt you the most. I know you’re angry.

Kks: I won’t lie to you. I am angry. Extremely. But I’ve wasted so much time pushing you away already. I don’t want to waste anymore time we have left. The only consistent thing in my life has always been you. I’ve said horrible things to you, and you never abandoned me. I think all the time about how I would have turned out if you didn’t keep me human. Self sacrifice seems to be something we have in common. Neither of us were meant to be without the other apparently... We’ve both been brought back from death. So maybe it’s...

Baby gai: You’re my eternal rival... My man of- Kks: Destiny

Kks: Strongesttaijutsu master who ever lived. My eternal rival. My man of destiny. I’m so happy you’re alive

[gai crying]

[Gai sobbing/crying]

[petew21-blog]

Detention

My English teacher just absolutely embarassed me in fornt of the whole class. Not the whole class, cause Joe and Chris are not here, but still. But I am glad they didn't see it. They would have made my life a living hell and called me names, but so would I.

The three of us have been friends since our mothers met on a playground one day. We have been inseperable. Sometimes literally. We even used super glue to never be away from each other. Yeah we went to the ER that night. But we all still laughed like crazy everytime we did pranks like this. We loved to do pranks on other people, but over the time we got bored, they either knew us and our pranks already or they didn't react enough to let us have the final laugh worth having.

That's why we started doing pranks on each other. It was quite brutal sometimes, like the last two prank I did on both of them, but you know, that's the game. We always want to be better than the other.

Back to present

My teacher, Mr. Lionel, called me in front of the whole class and forced me to sing. He said that I can sing Baby by Justin Bieber, cause he remembers that I once wrote that in one of my essays to be my favourite song. WHAT? I would never write that. That's one of my worst nightmares. Of course the whole class laughed.

Then the principal called out through the school radio, that my mom called and brought me new underwear, cause she knows how much I have trouble holding it in.

"That's BULLSHIT!" I yelled out during the class. The stranges thing was that Mr. Lionel didn't scold me right away as he always would, but kept on laughing. He then looked at the class and understood should have acted sooner.

"All right, Mr. Donovan. Principal's office, right now." he handed me the note for the principal and I left.

I was curious as always and took a peek. It said "For being a naughty boy. Deserves spanking. P.S. everything going according to plan so far"

What kind of a language is this. Why would Mr. Lionel write this? Is this how they always talk about us? Cause this is disturbing. I entered the office. The principal smiled at me from ear to ear. He let me sit down and immediately stood up above me

"So what was it this time, Mr. Donovan?"

"I... reacted on what you said about me in the radio. I said something I shouldn't have."

"Well. That is unfortunate. I might have bad news in that matter I am afraid that might make the situation worse. I have to inform you that we have been searching lockers of students for unwanted drugs and yours contained 5 great bags of weed. Therefore I am going to contact your parents and make you leave our school. Detention is definitely not in order. You have to understand that we don't want anyone to carry drugs to our school."

"But principal, that's not mine. I would have never done that. I have never even used it nor would I ever sell it. It must have been only some kind of prank by my friends."

"Are you trying to say we should expell them?"

"No... of course not. It's just not mine and I don't want to be expelled. Please. I'll do anything."

"Anything you say? he said and rearranged his balls in his pants

"NO FUCKING WAY IS THIS HAPPENING. I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE" I started panicking

"Do not worry Mr. Donovan. There is no need to panic. Mr. Lionel is coming now and we will think how to make a proper punishment for you."

We sat in silence, I would bet anything that he was still rubbing himself under the desk. I am not gonna get raped by some old perv today. Even if I would have to stab him in the eye with his pen

Suddenly the door opened. Mr. Lionel came in. The two of them still sat in silence. Then the principal said:"Ok, Mr. Lionel. Show our student here, what he's missing"

Mr. Lionel took of his shirt and started flexing at us. I had to admit that he was very good looking, but the thought that the principal was still observing me was horrible. I needed to get out.

"So, Billy. Wanna touch me? I'll let you pass"

"Sir, this is... I... NO! I won't do any of this. Leave me the fuck alone both of you, you two creeps!" I got to the door, but found out that Mr. Lionel locked it when he entered.

They looked at themsleves. And then started laughing histerically

Prinicpal:"It's just a prank, bro!"

Me:"What?!"

Mr. Lionel:"Dude, you were so scared. I bet you really do need the underwear now. Must be all wet haha"

Principal:"You still don't get it right, bro?"

Me:"Get what?"

Mr. Lionel:"Dude, it's us. Joe and Chris. And we PRANKED youuu!"

I couldn't believe it. But it was the only thing that made sense

Me:"Wait, how did you? Am I dreaming? Is it really happening?"

Chris (principal):"Yeah it's real bro. We went to the town to find something for our new prank to get revenge on you and we found this talisman in an old shop. And we swapped bodies. We found out that we can swap as many times we want. And then we came up with a plan to prank you. We even planned to embarass you even more, but it would be too cruel."

Me:"Guys, what the fuck? You made me believe that my principal was about to... That was it. We're done with the pranks. No more pranking each other ok? No more revenge pranking. Anything"

Joe (Mr. Lionel):"Ok, dude. Sorry. But you gotta admit it was a great prank, haha"

Me:"Yeah, I believed it."

Chris (Prinicipal):"Guys, are you done brushing your vaginas? I need to get out of this old body like right now. It's horrible to feel this old, dry, weak."

Me:"So, we can swap with anybody, right?"

Chris:"Yeah, got anyone in mind?"

Me:"My brother got back home from college few days ago and his two friends are crashing at ours. They're kinda hot."

Chris:"Great, but you'll have to lure them out"

We stood in front of the mirror in our new college bodies. Admiring each other, flexing, enjoy the muscles, the facil hair of each other

Me:"By the way, where are your original bodies?"

Joe:"Oh, we stashed them in the school. They are tied up so there should be no problem there"

Me:"You know you're gonna have to let them go eventually?"

Chris:"But not right now. Guys, let's see whose dick is bigger!"

Story in inbox:

Hi i loooooove your story so much🥰

Could u write a story about two guys swapping body with their principal and teacher to teach their friend a lesson 🍆🍆🍆

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

Forbidden Love: Chapter 1 Next Chapter

Shy?

Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist Emily Prentiss Masterlist

Summary: Professor!Emily x fem!student reader, what happens when profesor prentiss and the reader finally give into their feelings?

Word count: 1.5k

TW: Making out, I think that’s it?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x female reader

A/N: Should I make this a series? Idk it might be fun!

Studying behavioural profiling is, well, different. It’s like science, criminology and psychology and smooshed into one subject. But the best thing about it, you ask? The teacher. Emily Prentiss is the most divine woman to ever step foot on this earth and no one can tell me otherwise. The way she strides along the front of the lecture all, her raven hair that falls in front of her face when she bends down to click something on her laptop, her eyes that always seem to find mine in a room full of students, her veiny hands that brush over mine when giving back a test. Ugh god, I swear I’m falling in love with this woman. 

It’s 7:45 am on a Wednesday and I’m walking across campus so I can get to lesson a little early to touch up my notes from my other class with Agent Morgan and to go over my- okay I’m bullshtting I just want to see Emily. And to be honest, I think I’m one of her more favourite students so I think she doesn’t mind me being early. 

I push open the door to the lecture hall and start walking down the steps, laptop bag slung over my shoulder that contained notebooks, pens, pencils etc, all the essentials. In my hand I held a travel coffee mug with my favourite hot chocolate in it because I wasn’t too partial to coffee. As I reach the front row I notice that Professor Prentiss has been following me with her eyes and watching the sway of my hips as I walked in. ”Morning Professor.” I try to say as if her eyes all over me weren’t causing a blush to creep up my neck. I took a quick check behind me finding out I was the only one in the room. 

“Hi, y/n. How are you today?” She asked her eyes staring into mine, genuinely curious.

”Good thank you, tired but good, what about you?” I smile as she chuckles lightly at my comment.

“Just about the same as you darling.” She replies with a smirk on her face seeing my face instantly bloom with red at the pet name. I shuffle my bag slightly before she says “I was out on a case for the last two or so days and I, only just, made it back in time to teach you guys. Lucky me hey? The only reason I’m even slightly okay with having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn is because of students like you. You actually listen and care, god knows that kind of work ethic is rare these days.” Emily looks exhausted and about ready to jump into bed at any second but the words that she said seem to cloud my head so I don’t pay much attention to her disheveled state. 

Students like me? What does that even mean? Well, she explained what it meant but I still wasn’t convinced. Nonetheless I responded “Yeah, it really is. All the people in this class want to be profilers or something along the lines of such and yet none of them take their education seriously. I want to throw something at them every time they talk over you. I might actually do it one day, it's so annoying!” She smiles fondly at my words making a cage of butterflies escape into my stomach and I smile back. 

“Now, I can’t have you throwing things at people, can I now sweetheart? That’ll get you kicked off the course. And I don’t think you want that, I certainly don’t want that, and besides don’t worry about the others. You’re doing amazing ah, that reminds me can you stay behind at the end? I just want to speak to you about your grade on our most recent exam. It’s nothing bad, I promise. You’ve done exceptionally well, in fact so well that I want to talk to you about further opportunities you have open to you.” She places her hand on my shoulder as we now stand face to face, she got up halfway through talking to lean on the front of her desk. I smile and subconsciously lean into her touch. The remains of the blush from the pet names yet again lingers but I say a small “Thank you Professor.” 

At that moment the door to the lecture hall swings open revealing another student in their own little world unaware of the building tension in the room. I give her one last smile and go make my way to a seat in the front row. I get out my laptop and notebook and start writing the dates and titles. I could feel eyes on me the whole time, I look up and lock eyes with Emily, finding her already looking at me. She sent me a wink and glanced back down at whatever she was working on. A crimson flush invaded my face and I returned my eyes to my page.

After the lesson I packed up slower than normal so that I’d be able to stay behind a little longer than she probably ment. I put my laptop in my bag and zip it up and grab my now empty hot chocolate. I walk up to Profesor Prentiss’ desk and find she’s already looking at me, again. 

“You know, you should stop staring at me so much. People might get the wrong idea.” I say, suddenly feeling confident, a teasing smirk on my lips. 

“What if I want them to get the wrong idea? What if I want them to think you’re mine?” I quickly shut up at that remark, all my confidence suddenly disappeared and I turned into putty. Heat rose to my cheeks and my head dipped to avoid her piercing gaze, it wasn’t mean, more admiration. But, any look from Emily Prentiss is intense. “Cat got your tongue honey?” She had a shit eating grin on her face as she saw me nod slowly. 

“Anyway, your grade! Okay you scared the highest in the class, and you got full marks. This isn’t anything new for you I'm sure, you’re a bright young woman. But, scoring this high in a test this hard, it opens doors for you. So, I’m here to offer you a chance to shadow me and the team for a week to see how we handle cases and what the job entails really. I also wanted to let you know that if you have any interest in joining the team I would accept you in a heartbeat. You’re a brilliant profiler.” Yet again for what feels like the millionth time today, heat rises to my cheeks. She stalks the way round her desk and stands in front of it. 

“That sounds amazing, oh my god, really?” A smile broke out on my face immediately. She looked pleased at my reaction and took a step closer. 

“Yeah of course really, why would I joke?” She laughed softly. I muttered a small ‘true’ and kept shamelessly checking her out as she still came closer to me and lowered her lips down to my ear and whispered, “Do I make you nervous darling? Is that why you get all shy whenever I’m around?” I nodded again while looking down, her hand found my chin and tilted it up. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” I felt a strange tingling in my lower stomach as she said that. 

I looked her in the eye and she bought me closer. “Is this okay?” she muttered, her breath fanning across my face due to the proximity. 

“Yes.” I breathed out. That was all the confirmation she needed to softly press her lips to mine. She held me like I might break at any minute, so tentative and caring it made my heart flutter. My hands found their way around my waist and I pulled her closer. She moved us around so now I was the one against the desk as she deepened the kiss, her tongue moving into my mouth. I instantly let her take control of the kiss and press her hips against mine. A small whine left my lips and I lent into her arms which were on my hips. 

She pulled away and looked into my eyes before whispering, just to me even though there was no one else there, “I don’t want this to just be a fling, just to make that clear.” I smiled wide and pecked her lips once more. 

“Neither do I.” She pulled me in again and we kissed with smiles on both of our faces. We knew we would have to be a secret for a while obviously but it didn’t stop me from fantasising about what was to come.

[jealousmartini]

💌 She's an overachiever. "Pressure"? What pressure? ⋆₊˚⊹🔖

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

My second year of college is coming in hot guys. And I'm talking the 3rd of September, in TWO WEEKS TIME HOT.

But you already know your girl has BEEN locked in with her subliminals for the next term, cus I've had a whole thing going on since my first term to my second yk. so come a little closer so I can show yall what my game is on

p.s.a!! I am an animation and games art student, so most to all of my work is research and art based. And when I say most of my work is research based, I mean there is an ungodly amount of writing that is expected from the students and it's not even just the amount it's WHAT you write about that gets you the grade and how well your art conveys your ideas.

Also "Ex." = Example

╰┈➤ " My average college day experience as an art student/loass babe " click here!

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

"What? Like it's hard?" At the top of her class, always ontop of her work, never slacking off, always locking in.

   ── .✦  ┆  𖤐  ┆  ␥ 

|| Perfect focus, super attentive, always pays attention and makes notes. I am never afraid to ask for help or advice and I always receive the answers I need to understand the work; no room for confusion here.

|| Very strong, clear memory, perfect photographic memory.

|| Studies so much, it's my hobby, never underestimates myself or downplays my work, has always prioritised my work and has always understood the importance of doing work at home. Studying has never been a struggle for me because I don't struggle with discipline. I actually find so much fun and enjoyment doing homework. I always feel so productive and proud of myself whilst managing my time and looking at the amount I have done afterwards. Especially with the amount of validation and points I earn from teachers. It is always so satisfying seeing my high grades after a complete project. It's like a treat.

|| Creative genius, always brainstorms with words or loose sketches; not a single idea goes to waste. Research enthusiast, I could never shy away from making a thorough, detailed, and well planned out analysis, moodboard or mindmap. And multiple of them at that. I always know EXACTLY what to write and never wastes precious time and space yapping.

|| The life of an art student is exciting, fulfilling, flourishing, inspiring and strict. In the healthy way of course. My parents and teachers are always understanding of my burnouts and art block which are very rare thank god; and it's a good thing I have my closest friends to comfort me through my work. They are always so supportive, encouraging and honest with me as I am with them. We always travel together to the college (when I don't feel like being alone) and we always travel back home together. I mean we are our own personal friend circle so of course we buy snacks for each other and meet up for lunch; it's not even like we need to worry about price since we have more than enough on us. College is 100 times better when my best friends are with me, everything feels so comfortable with them

|| Perfect, cunty, and ideal artstyles. Always chooses the ones most appropriate for a certain design, and never forgets how to convey a certain look. I know, understand and draw human, animal, vehicle, clothing anatomy and terminology, enviromental composition, colour theory and terminology, the 12 principles of animation, the 7 fundamentals of art (Line, pattern, colour, texture, tone, shape and form), and the fundamentals of character design like the back of my hand

|| I know how to layout a design page appropriately, I always know how to theme and colour co-ordinate. Written placement and art placement are always perfect to the T and nothing looks off. All together, I show off my own unique style of work and impress my teachers of classmates

Ex. Subliminals in my art student playlist

"Over achiever", "Desired art skills", "Desired (college) life"

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

"Ugh she is always doing the most with her work😒-" And she always looks good doing it. She's got the looks and the discipline; she's got it all

   ── .✦  ┆  𖤐  ┆  ␥ 

|| Gorgeous, curly, and ideal (3B to 3C) hair. My hair never gets greasy, dry, breakage, damage, frizz, dandruff, or split ends. My curls are always moisturised, soft, bouncy, and defined. I never experience a bad hair day, and my hair is super easy to manage. Detangling my hair is a breeze, and styling my hair is even easier; every style looks exactly the way I want it and never loses the volume or shape throughout the day.

|| Ideal, fit, slim thick pear. Short shoulders, small ribcage, medium-sized chest, 20 inch waist, wide hips and slight dip, long legs, fat ass but not too fat, chubby but fit thighs, slimmer defined calves and small feet. The perfect pear. And every outfit looks exactly the way I want; I never look awkward but I always look put together and stylish.

|| Craziest face card. Ms. Face economy infact. I have a round heart shaped face with dark brown bambi eyes and long fluttery lashes, a medium straight nose bridge, plump pink "keyhole" lips, and the clearest, softest brown skin ever... Yet I still put make up on- yes I do because it's fun and I like it, so it's always awesome knowing I can do my make up flawlessly and nail my looks perfectly

Ex. Subliminals in my ideal appearance playlist

"3C hair type", "Pear body", "Desired face", "brown caramel skin"

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

I'll probably add smore later :3 k bye

[literaila]

okay but like do you think gojo and oc would ever have a baby of their own, giving tsumiki and megumi a sibling, or are their adopted children enough?

sometimes i like to think oc would agree to become a teacher just to feel like all her students are also her babies.

i am personally of the belief that satoru wants a million children. and he says this, verbatim, when you get together.

“oh, just by the way we’re having ten kids, kay, love ya!”

but then there’s the fact that he doesn’t care where they come from. biological children, adopted children, curse wombs, mahito’s silly little transfigured humans… you got ‘em, he’ll take them.

you, on the other hand, have always been… wary about kids. i mean there’s no doubt that you adore them, think they’re precious little angels to be bestowed on only the best of beings—i mean, really, the reason satoru sought you out to help with megumi and tsumiki is because he knew you liked kids.

still… there’s that doubt, that worry that you could never be enough for a child. that you could never give them a childhood that you wanted and deserved.

teenage you is the gloomiest of them all, and if you asked her, she’d probably say no.

but then a stupid man brought home two children unannounced and swore he was going to help with them (he does… occasionally).

so, without warning, you gets the kids you’ve always (secretly) dreamed of. and who could ask for more than megumi and tsumiki, really? who even could?

(so obviously that fear is quickly washed away. i mean, there’s days, weeks, months of doubts where you’re sure that you’re doing everything wrong. sure that megumi is never going to be able to live in society as a normal human being, and that tsumiki is going to suffer from her soft, easygoing heart.

luckily satoru is also there to prove that if you think you’re doing anything wrong, he’s doing it ten times worse.

and sometimes he sweet talks you. but only for the rewards, of course.

you both learn that parenting is less about being perfect than adapting to the needs of the tiny beings, bending at their every will…)

still, even though you love megumi and tsumiki like they’ve crawled into your veins and strained all livelihood from you, having your own biological kids is a bit different.

satoru is all for it, no doubt, but he doesn’t push. he understands your hesitation—especially with how difficult everything’s become as the kids get older. the increase in curses, the rising fear that the world isn’t a safe place as is, and could never be a safe place for another baby.

(but don’t expect him not to stare at you when you’re helping a lost little girl across the street. or holding the baby of a friend. really, he’s just reminiscing… he’s not planning anything… probably…)

though, it doesn’t help either of you that satoru teaches the first years. in hindsight, you shouldn’t have let him make that decision, but it’s too late now.

satoru tries to bring every student home. even if they’ve got two healthy, loving parents—he’s calling a lawyer to draw up legal paperwork the moment yaga tells him there’s a new student about to come to jujutsu high.

what? the house is big enough for a guest, isn’t it? why do you think satoru was so pushy for all of those extra bedrooms?

(and you’ll scold him when there’s a another place set at the table. you’ll ask megumi to show the new student around the house, pointedly, and then you’ll make him recite the lengthy list of things he’s not supposed to do with every kid he meets (again)

but really, you don’t mind.

you’ve always thought that hearts were rather expandable things, and your son and daughter have only proven that fact.

and there’s a little part of you that can’t deny the admiration you have for satoru. his need to coddle every student of his, to comfort them endlessly, even if they don’t want it.

if you had to guess, you’d say that satoru’s heart is the stretchiest.

so you only tug on his hair a little. and then you’ll sit right next to him at dinner, letting him hold your hand under the table).

and there’s been a couple of times where you bring someone of your own home. just as a little payback, of course. no other reason….

[theloveliestembrace]

Let it happen. | CL

Charles Leclerc/Reader

f1 masterlist

crossposted to ao3

Summary: The five times you meet Charles Leclerc. (The four times it doesn’t work out, the one time it might,)

Warnings: Non-explicit (but definitely inappropriate) teacher-student relationship

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Reincarnation au

W/C: 2.7k

-

A/N: What’s good people, I’m back again. This fic was very cinematic in my head (it still is), so I hope the writing captures that. Enjoy~

-

The first time you meet Charles Leclerc, he’s a barista at the coffeehouse down the road from your interning job. It’s a brief stint in the industry as you wait for a university acceptance letter, so you don’t expect to stay for long. 

He’s sweet, beaming at you from over the counter nearly everyday, remembering your order before you’ve even asked for his name. 

“Charles,” he says, sweetly accented, “my name is Charles Leclerc.” 

That day, the flowing script of your name on the takeaway cup is accompanied with a ‘have dinner with me?’ and a smiley face. You picture him, eyebrows scrunched and eyes squinted in concentration, trying to write neatly on the curved surface, and smile. 

As it turns out, Charles Leclerc is also waiting for a university acceptance letter, to a prestigious place in the United Kingdom for the study of Liberal Arts. He laughs awkwardly as he confesses, “My English is not so good yet, so I am worried they won’t find me so elegant.” 

You bat it off as nonsense, pulling him in for a chaste kiss, whispering sincerely against his lips. “They’ll be foolish not to accept you, cheri.”

He’s a sweet relief from the bustle of your internship, where you’re surrounded by presumptuous old men and women who expect their coffee orders and bottles of perrier on their desk before eight. Your work in the fashion industry is not as glamorous a job as made out in the novels. The twelve centimeter heels you’re forced into daily pinch at your toes, and all your coworkers are size-zero hyenas, vying for a position. It takes all your energy to keep up. 

Just the sight of him, though, waving cheerily in the morning as you run in for coffee pickup, hands in his pockets as he waits for you to get off work, the soft kisses when he walks you home. It’s easy to get lost in this, lost in him , fingers slotted between yours and a glass of wine shared between interlocked fingers.  It’s a romance out of a metropolitan chick flick, something about finding love in the middle of modern day bustle, finding quiet in the loud city. 

Everything falls apart when you get your acceptance letter. You haven’t talked about the inexorability of the end, not really. Sometimes Charles will bring it up half-heartedly, and so will you, but the inertia to dealing with your very real future is too great, and you both end up kissing on Charles’ sofa instead of facing the truth. 

It culminates in one big fight, your fingernails pressed to draw blood, Charles bracing himself against the wall to prevent himself from losing his temper. 

And it goes like every other fight in the movies, things like i was always going to go anyway and why don’t you just fucking go then, if you have nothing to stay for , and don’t hold me back just because you don’t have the certainty of getting into your course, Charles spinning around and saying i already got in, i’m hesitating because of you and the pressure in your chest growing so large it’s all you can do to stop your tears from running. 

The movies lied to you. This is the part where Charles apologises and you hug and make up and you stay for each other. That’s the love story. 

Instead, you say, go then, if staying for me burdens you so . And he goes, your apartment door slamming behind him. 

You spend days wallowing in self-pity, avoiding the coffeehouse, running through the motions, thinking about the last ten months of your life, and make the decision when your hand reaches for a coffee cup that isn’t there. 

You’ll stay, for Charles, because you love him, even if it isn’t like the movies. Because it isn’t like the movies, and you’ll love him even when the post-credits have rolled. 

It is this that makes you run to the coffeehouse the next morning, forgoing an umbrella in your haste, soaking your blouse straight through. You yank the door open, waiting for the head of curls at the counter to look up so you can beg for a chance. Just one.

Instead, the older lady who owns the place, looks up and smiles sadly at you. “I’m sorry, kid. He flew off to the UK yesterday, he said you never called.” 

And again, this doesn’t happen in the movies. The main character doesn’t step back out into the rain alone, heels soaked against the pavement, nor do they spend the next week waiting for the love of their life to call. 

You hit reply on the acceptance email, and change your number to a local one when you land in America. 

Somewhere on another continent, a call doesn’t get connected.

-

On the sixteenth of October, the people of Monaco are blessed with an announcement. A prince is born, the news reports. 

Charles, they named him. Charles Leclerc. 

In another ward down the hallway, another woman gives birth to a girl. The royal family hasn’t realised it yet, but down the hallway, is their future pr manager. 

Your first day on the job is fraught with just about every roadblock you could face. 

At four in the morning, one of your neighbour’s ridiculous scented candles tips over and sets enough things on fire to trip the fire alarm. Management ushers every single person in the vicinity out of the apartment building, where you stand shivering in your bathrobe. 

A few hours later, your coffee machine breaks down before your espresso even finishes running. 

Then, five minutes after you leave the apartment to catch your Uber, your heel breaks, so you’re forced to change your shoes and foot the late arrival fee on your car. 

When you finally find the meeting room fifteen minutes after you were supposed to reach, you're very much on the verge of tears. 

You’re met with a frowning Charles Leclerc, whose expression instantly evaporates into fondness when he recognises who’s at the door. He stands to bring you into a hug, as if you’d been friends since you were children. (You had been, of course, but you didn’t forget that he was a literal prince. Hugs are not commonplace.)

It’s an odd feeling, standing in front of the boy you’d known from birth, tasked with covering up his scandals and manufacturing relationships to keep him in the public eye.

It’s even odder to fall in love with him all over again, especially while you’re both poring over staged Instagram posts of him and Monaco’s richest bachelorettes. But Charles is so— good, easy to fall in love with, like those princes from storybooks. He laughs at exactly the right moments, cracks jokes that have you gasping for breath, charms you so thoroughly it’s almost embarrassing. 

It falls into place like poetry, too many moments without supervision, secret smiles over the table, quiet mornings in the palace, hidden in his room. You pick up the closeness of your youth near flawlessly. Falling in love has never been this easy. 

(It’ll never be this easy again.)

The end comes knocking in the form of his mother. Marriage. You almost choke on the enormity of it, caught in the noose of your own stupidity. Because that is your job, isn’t it? The prince is almost thirty, you are almost thirty, and this has always been the final point, of your job, of his scripted relationships. 

You don’t even fight, which is kind of the worst part. A choice is presented to Charles, and he chooses.

It’s a special kind of cruelty, to stay. To sit with the photographers and videographers and event crew and wedding planner, poring over fabrics and angles, as if it’s your fucking honour to plan what’s set to be the greatest union in Monaco for the next decade. 

You were wrong. The worst part is standing at the fringes, in your blue dress, watching the love of your life slide a ring onto another finger and speak the vows that were meant for youyouyou . The worst part is knowing the photos will be beautiful, because you planned them yourself. 

The worst part is knowing there is no universe where he chooses you.  

-

Your new French Literature professor is… really fucking hot. You’re not just saying this because he’s a decade older than you, or because he’s at least three decades younger than the guy who used to teach the class. He’s just, objectively of course, a really attractive man. 

The way his accent rolls off his tongue when he says “Charles, my name is Charles Leclerc.” definitely doesn’t help. In your periphery, you see the girl seated next to you furiously typing on her phone, with caps and exclamation marks and sweating emojis. You can’t even blame her. 

And it’s almost criminally obvious, the way he looks at you, eyes darting to your open polo, the way he lingers on the syllables of your name when he calls on you to answer in class. 

It’s subtle enough to not warrant any accusations of misconduct, but not subtle enough to avoid the envious stares of the girls (and boys) in your class. You’re unbothered, of course, given that he hasn’t actually made a move, but also the fact that he wears his wedding ring all the time.

And if you start wearing tighter shirts and shorter skirts to class, just to see his breath hitch when you uncross your legs just so, well that’s nobody’s business but your own. 

It’s almost cliche, the way your little game unfolds. You make sure to book the latest possible consultation slots with him, in a cute ensemble and flawless makeup, toting a copy of Les Miserables as if you’re actually struggling with the material. 

It’s fun, to rile him up, watch his tongue slide against his lower lip as he looks at you from across the desk. You don’t typically make a habit of seducing professors, especially the married ones, but you figure it’ll probably make a great story for your grandkids, or something. He holds out much longer than you thought, so much so that the illusion of needing aid in your best subject starts to grate on you. Still, the sight of his forearms when he rolls up his sleeves, or the line of his throat when he sips water during lectures keeps you hooked. 

When he finally bends you over his desk, you’re almost disappointed that the game has ended. The imprint of his wedding ring stays on your waist for days. Your friend tuts nervously when you return back late, murmurs something about morals and regretting your decisions and something else you tune out. 

Un brin de folie egaye la vie, right? Some madness will brighten your life. You continue ignoring her.

It’s only after months of your routine that you can form the all-important question, perched on his lap in his (locked) office, “Why cheat on your wife?” And the room is instantly suffused with silence. You expect him to tell you to get out or something of the sort, but instead he hums thoughtfully, shifting you further onto his thighs. 

He’s silent for a few seconds, running fingers through your hair, “Why do we do anything?” You snort at the obvious deflection, raising an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. 

“On n’aime que ce qu’on possède pas tout entier. Proust says we love only what we do not have entirely.” You giggle a little at that, “you love me because you cannot have me?” He sighs against your cheek, “something like that, yes.”

In the end, it ends much cleaner than affairs like this tend to. You graduate top of the class, watch Charles and his beautiful wife at the ceremony, and laugh a little meanly at how oblivious her smile is. How he watches you, still, as you give the valedictorian speech, the smirk on his face as you thank your professors with false fervour. 

And then, one last time for the road, in the handicap bathroom where the bustle of the hall isn’t quite muted, breaths mingling hot in the stale air. A kiss, almost chaste, and you leave. 

Your grandkids howl with laughter at the story, nearly seventy years down the road. You smile, think about green eyes and rolled up sleeves. Another life, maybe. 

-

You’re still not used to the wag lifestyle. It’s one thing to be recognised in Monaco, another to be Il Predestinato’s girlfriend. It’s almost obscene, the red that greets you down every hallway, the way you bite your tongue and watch the team fuck him over every weekend. The way the crowds chant his name; Charles, they scream, Charles Leclerc. 

It’s not like you haven’t earned a place in the paddock. You’ve done the work, the pr activities, the carefully curated soft launches, the jet lag, the helmet kisses and the careful, careful styling. You’ll always be silent and pretty, always smiling and skinny and happy for him, existing to prove something. 

The point is, it isn’t that you don’t love Charles anymore. It isn’t that he’s neglectful and distant (he is), or that you’re unhappy with the constant scrutiny and ever changing time zones (you are). You can swallow these things, breathe deep and let it settle. 

Mangia questa minestra o saltar questa finestra; eat the soup or jump out of the window. Accept things for what they are, don’t hurt over things that cannot be changed. 

And it really does feel like nothing will ever change, watching the man you love turn into a beating husk, consumed with his want. A championship, a victory, draped in enough red to drown you both, a hundred years of history. Nothing will change, you will always be the girlfriend, the girl in-the-pictures. You can feel the shadow of Charles’ name as heavily as he feels Ferrari’s. That will never change.    

The championship is a hollow victory, when it comes. You and Charles have devolved across the year into a state of a perpetual tense silence, intercut only with the curl of his fingers around your waist when the cameras come flashing, and drawn out, passive aggressive conversations.

You begin to fly out less and less, blame it on the job you pretend to hate for Charles’ sake. Slowly, you learn to be on your own, find your way around loneliness, spaces within yourself previously occupied with your boyfriend. You toss about the idea of him cheating on you while you miss his races, and find the thought less impossible and less painful each time. 

By the time you see him again in Abu Dhabi, the Monacan flag wrapped around his shoulders, fingers pointed to the sky, you only feel affection for the man you would’ve given everything up for a year ago. The knowledge squeezes painfully in your chest. 

You reach for him in the cooldown room, wince at how unfamiliar his hands are to you now, look him in the eyes, “It’s been over for a long time, hasn’t it, cheri?” Tears rise unbidden within you when he nods, eyes wet. You clasp his hands tighter, relish the feeling of his fingers against yours one more time, “I want you to remember the best parts of us,” you sniffle lightly, attempt a smile, “not the end. I want you to remember that I am always proud of you.”

The room is quiet. He leans against your shoulder, for a moment you are both twenty-one again, guileless. The enormity of what you are losing has settled in your bones. 

The soup is unassuming on the table. You choose the free fall from the window. 

-

The new doctor is cute, in a puppyish sort of way. Charles watches the way you interact with all your new coworkers, smiling and shaking hands, the way you laugh at a joke Max just made. 

You come up in front of him, and falter, tilting your head like a startled animal. “Have we met?” The deja vu hits him so hard his head spins, shaking his head at your question anyway. 

He kisses your outstretched hand, soft under his lips, revels briefly in your furious blushing. His mother likes to tell him; doctors only date other doctors. He intends to test the theory.

“My name is Charles,” he says, “Charles Leclerc.”

[mypimpademia]

— The Teacher pt. 3 (final)

Single dad! Gojo x Fem! Preschool teacher! Reader

Synopsis: Gojo is yet to make a decision on where your relationship will go. But after a long time of thinking, and a conversation with Megumi, he comes to a conclusion

TW: None

Note: Click/tap here for part 1! Or Click/tap here for part 2! Tysm for all the love y’all have been giving these, this was not at all meant to be a series but I’m glad y’all are enjoying it (I am too dw)😭💀. This is the last part of the series, thank you again!

⇶ After your date, you were scared about where things between you and Satoru would go

⇶ It wasn’t the date itself that made you question, far from it. The date went great, or at least you thought so

⇶ But you had so many anxious thoughts, all of the worst case scenarios running through your head, and every “what if” scenario imaginable

⇶ But thankfully, all of your worries were quickly washed away, and you instead started questioning why you even had them in the first place

⇶ After putting Megumi to bed, Satoru called you in hopes that you were still awake

⇶ You answered fast, and your sweet voice came through the phone as you said hello

⇶ He thanked you again for coming out with him, and you of course thanked him for the date

⇶ You began grading papers since you were already up when you were supposed to be sleeping, and stayed on the phone with Satoru while you did so

⇶ He watched tv, randomly telling you about random funny things that happened in a scene, and you’d tell him about funny answers your students put on their papers

⇶ You eventually lost track of time, and you didn’t know how long you’d been on the phone with him, but you felt like a giddy teenager talking to her crush

⇶ The call went on into late hours of the night, so late that you were both in and out of sleep mid conversation, but denied it anytime the other said something about it

⇶ Satoru completely succumbed to sleep over time, and you hung up to get some sleep yourself

⇶ After that, Satoru would call, or at least text, you multiple times a day

⇶ He’d text good morning, and call if you happened to be up as early as him, text you when he knew it was your lunch break, call you when he knew you were getting home from work, and call you to say good night

⇶ You were a normal part of each other’s routine, and a lot of times you’d text him during class about something Megumi did, but for the most part you talked about anything with each other

⇶ Satoru even talked a little bit about work and complained about his “boss” and ppl he worked with

⇶ You grew to not care so much about what he did for a living and more things about him that were still unknown to you

⇶ It felt odd to not care at first, because most people would

⇶ Because what if he was seeing other women? A killer? Loving a double life?

⇶ But after growing closer to him, you could feel how genuine he was, and let yourself enjoy the relationship for what it was instead of worrying or prying

⇶ Besides, the mystery was alluring, and he just seemed like someone who doesn’t like to throw out too much information about himself. So you pushed no further and decided that he’d tell you when he was ready

⇶ Weeks passed, and you were going over to Satoru’s for dinner at least once a week, and he’d take you out for a date every once in awhile

⇶ You even went out to dinner with Megumi a few times, and felt like a little family doing so. Even getting comments like ‘You’re such a cute family!’

⇶ You and Satoru always brushed them off, just chuckling and muttering ‘thanks’, but never once denying it

⇶ On one of your dates, he finally asked you to officially be his girlfriend, sputtering and blushing as he tried to cover his tracks with a joke when he felt embarrassed, before you cut him off and told him that you’d love to

⇶ After that, Satoru began entrusting you with watching Megumi, (not that he didn’t before especially considering that you’re his teacher) and when he got too caught up with work he’d ask you to come over an watch Megumi

⇶ You and little Meg would always have fun together, playing video games, action figures, playing outside, drawing, etc. and sometimes you’d take him out to get ice cream or toy shopping if he kept it a secret from Satoru

⇶ One day, Satoru came home a bit later than he had anticipated, and saw both you and Megumi passed out on the couch, cartoons playing on the tv

⇶ Megumi was already dressed up in his pajamas, so Satoru carried him up to his room and put him in bed

⇶ When he came back down stairs, he gently woke you up and offered you to stay since it was so late and he didn’t want you driving back home when you were so exhausted

⇶ You were telling him no, as you always do when he makes such offers, but it was hard to keep up your argument between yawns and going in and out of sleep

⇶ He led you upstairs to his room, where he let you shower and laid out clothes and toiletries for you

⇶ By the time you finished showering and got dressed, you were still tired, but more than awake enough to realize that you were in the main bedroom of the house

⇶ His bedroom.

“Satoru,” you called out as you emerged from the bathroom, steam rolling out from behind you.

You heard footsteps grow louder and louder until Satoru finally got to the room, cautiously opening the door.

“Y/n? Did you call for me? Is everything okay?” He asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Why’d you put me in this room?” You asked him, eyebrow raised as you gestured to the large room.

“What? You don’t like it?” Satoru mused. “The guest rooms are kinda bare, didn’t want you staying in there.”

You kissed your teeth. The gesture was sweet, but you found yourself oddly annoyed at the fact that he so casually disregarded himself.

“And you’re sleeping in the guest room instead of your own room? In your own house?” Satoru shrugged, causing you to sigh. “We’re swapping.”

He gave you a puzzled, yet amused, look. Satoru didn’t expect this type of reaction from you, but he supposed that this type of attitude came from taking care of others for a living.

“Mm, not happening,” he chuckled, making you kiss your teeth again.

“Then we can share.”

Satoru was taken aback. You were just full of surprises, weren’t you?

“Will that get you to stop pouting, baby?” He teased in a mocking baby voice, face inches from yours.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled, so he took it as a yes, kissing your cheek.

“S’good you made me come back here anyways, I forgot my toothbrush,” he said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Realizing you need to brush your teeth as well, you followed behind the tall man.

You unboxed the spare toothbrush he gave to you, applied the toothpaste, and began brushing your teeth along side Satoru.

Looking at him through the mirror, you were able to fully observe him.

His hair was slightly wet from him shower, with a few pieces clinging to his forehead. He wasn’t wearing his sunglasses, and you could see just how long his powdery white lashes really were. To top it off, he had no shirt on with grey sweatpants hanging low on his waist.

You were mesmerized. You couldn’t even believe one man could look so good, you felt like you were staring at a marble statue.

Completely entranced, you didn’t even realize you were gawking at him until toothpaste began dripping down your chin and onto his shirt. Satoru stifled a laugh, leaning down to spit into the sink.

“See somethin’ you like?” He snickered, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you spat into the sink and wiped off your chin.

After finishing up in the bathroom, you both finally crawled into bed together.

“Good night,” Satoru chimed, reaching over to turn off his bedside lamp.

“Night.”

⇶ Despite being so tired, neither of you could sleep due to how nervous the presence of the other made you feel

⇶ You both silently tossed and turned before you ended up facing each other

⇶ The room had no lights, except for a window that directly faced the moon, allowing for enough illumination to make out the outline of each others faces

⇶ Satoru silently looked all over your face, almost like he was trying to engrave your features into his memories

⇶ Suddenly you felt something cold touch your leg, making you jump and jerk your foot away

⇶ You heard Satoru laugh, smushing his face into his pillow

“My feet are cold,” he pouted.

“Mine too.”

⇶ You put your own foot against his leg, and he immediately hissed and pulled back from you

⇶ You laughed at him, but were interrupted when he suddenly grabbed hold of your extended leg, pulling your towards him

⇶ You gasped at the action, and he gently placed your leg over his body, then wrapped his toned arms around you

“I’m really cold.” He whispered, minty breath fanning against your face.

⇶ Pressing yourself against his bare chest and snaking your arms around him, he was cold to the touch

⇶ You gave him a gentle kiss, already feeling him warm up as you both fell asleep

⇶ That morning, you were woken up by Satoru stirring and the sound of little slapping noises

⇶ Megumi had woken up before the both of you, and was now waking up Satoru by clobbering him with tiny fists as he repeated ‘I’m hungry’ over and over

⇶ Satoru let out a dragged out groan, making the boy hit him even harder, but not at all fazing the man

⇶ Eventually, he did get up, taking Megumi downstairs over his shoulder

“What d’you want for breakfast Gumi?”

“Pancakes,” Megumi huffed, hauling himself onto the chair.

“Pancakes it is,” Satoru complied, taking out the box mix from the pantry, and quickly scanning over the ingredients list before grabbing what he needed.

Megumi was silent for a majority of the time, still in the process of waking up as his kept his cheek against the cool marble counter.

He was never a morning person, but he was still much too quiet. Satoru knew him better than anyone, and knew that he had something on his mind.

“What’re you thinking about?” Satoru asked, pouring batter into the buttered pan.

Megumi raised his head up, brow’s knitted together and eyes narrowed in deep thought. He stayed quiet for awhile, hesitant to speak his mind.

“Is Ms. L/n my mom yet?”

Satoru wasn’t fully surprised by the question, but the tone of Megumi’s voice sent a pant through his chest. Megumi wasn’t at all a needy or spoiled child, and he rarely ever asked for much. But Satoru could tell this was something he wanted deeply.

Even though he took care of Megumi like a father would, he made a point from the start to at least let him know he was adopted, but was loved like blood. Satoru couldn’t imagine the flurry of emotions the young boy must feel finally having a mother figure, and not just a woman that came and went like Satoru’s previous affairs.

“Is that what you want?” Satoru asked him, flipping the pancake over. Truthfully, his answer could make or break where his relationship with you would go.

On top of him not being needy, Megumi wasn’t an emotional child. He hardly cried or even threw tantrums. The most emotion he’d show, other than being happy, were nervousness and frustration.

“Is that what you want?” Megumi shrugged, slumping back in his seat, avoiding eye contact.

He could be such a mini adult, never fully allowing himself to be taken care of like a child should. That’s a big reason Satoru thought you’d be so good for Megumi, you brought the kid out of him and nurtured him in ways that Satoru simply couldn’t.

Transferring the pancake from the stove to a plate, Satoru slid Megumi his breakfast. He hummed as he did so, still waiting for a proper answer and not a repeat of his question.

“Yes…” Megumi mumbled, taking the plate and grabbing the syrup bottle.

“Yes, what?” Satoru pushed, making the boy glare at him with dark eyes.

“Yes, that’s what I want,” He snapped, cheeks growing pink and slamming the syrup bottle back down.

“Me too, Megs.”

⇶ Just a minute later, you came into the kitchen, gently rubbing Megumi’s head as you walked by him, and kissing Satoru’s cheek while wrapping your arms around his waist

⇶ You apologized for not coming down with them, and said that you were really tired a just needed a few extra minutes

⇶ Satoru assured you it was fine and told you to eat, having already set aside a plate of food for you

⇶ He joined you and Megumi shortly after, and you all ate while telling one another about the dreams you had last night

⇶ All of a sudden, Satoru perked up, remembering something

⇶ He told Megumi to go get “the drawing” from his room to show it to you

⇶ Megumi looked puzzled, cheeks stuffed with pancakes as he looked up, attempting to remember

⇶ When he finally did, he let out a growl and gave a look that could kill to Satoru who simply laughed

⇶ He bartered with him, saying he could have another pancake if showed it to me

⇶ You watched the ordeal in amusement, and after giving it some thought, Megumi begrudgingly climbed down from his chair, going to his room while grumbling under his breath

⇶ After a minute, Megumi came back down, still looking annoyed but with a mixture of embarrassment this time

⇶ The paper was hidden behind his back, and he made you promise to not make fun of him if he showed you

⇶ After a verbal promise and a pinky link later, Megumi handed over the paper, flipped over as he mouthed ‘you’re annoying’ to Satoru, you only snickered at him

⇶ Flipping the paper over, the picture on it made your heart melt

⇶ There was a dandelion yellow sun in the corner, light green grass with a few multicolored flowers

⇶ But what caught your attention was the three stick figures on the page

⇶ The tallest was on the far left, outlined hair sticking up to represent white locks of hair, labeled ‘Dad’

⇶ The smallest was in the middle, scribbles of black crayon to show black hair, labeled ‘Me’

⇶ And the last, mid sized one, had your hair color, sloppily drawn into your usual styled, labeled ‘Mom’

—

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