#it was suppose to be the first week of school

[sunrenity]

⟡ㅤㅤNERVOUSㅤ┈─ㅤPSH

ㅤㅤㅤ ( ✦ )ㅤㅤyou've got me nervous to speak

precis : you're too nervous to confess to park sunghoon.

박성훈ㅤ୨୧ㅤcrush ! sunghoon x 𝒻em readerㅤ..ㅤfluff, high school auㅤ/ㅤkissing? (once on the cheek)ㅤㅤ( 1290 )

valentine’s day is supposed to be magical. that’s what everyone says, right? fairy tales and romance movies insist it’s the day when grand confessions lead to perfect happily-ever-afters. and maybe that’s true—for everyone except you.

the halls of your high school are buzzing with excitement. heart-shaped balloons float above lockers, streamers line the walls, and couples giggle as they exchange chocolate and flowers. everywhere you look, people are confessing their feelings with trembling hands and hopeful smiles. you, on the other hand, can barely keep your hands steady.

in your backpack is a small gift bag, one you spent far too long preparing. the pink tissue paper peeking out is perfectly fluffed, and inside is a box of chocolates you know he loves, along with a folded note that’s taken up all your free time this week. it’s not just any note—it’s a confession. your confession.

and the “he” in question? park sunghoon.

park sunghoon isn’t just any guy. he’s the guy. the star forward on the school’s hockey team, with sharp features that could rival any celebrity and an easy, quiet charm that makes everyone gravitate toward him. his brown hair, always slightly tousled as if he’s just stepped off the ice, catches the light as he moves through the hallway. he’s the kind of guy who could have anyone, but somehow, he’s still… kind. that’s what got to you the most.

today, he’s wearing the school’s standard black blazer, but somehow it looks better on him than anyone else. the blazer hugs his broad shoulders, and the white dress shirt underneath is just slightly unbuttoned, giving him an effortlessly cool vibe.

you remember the first time you spoke to him. it was a year ago, back when you were assigned as chemistry partners. you’d been terrified at first—how could someone as effortlessly cool as sunghoon ever tolerate working with you? but he surprised you.

“don’t stress,” he had said when you apologized for nearly dropping a beaker. “i’ll catch it if it falls.”

that’s when it started. the little smiles he’d send your way when you accidentally got chalk on your hands. the way he’d explain things patiently, even though he didn’t have to. and, most of all, the way he’d tilt his head slightly when he looked at you, as if you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to.

it had taken you weeks to admit it to yourself: you had a crush on park sunghoon. a big one.

now, standing in the middle of a crowded hallway with nervous energy pooling in your stomach, you’re not sure you can go through with it.

your chance comes during lunch when you spot him by the vending machines, casually chatting with one of his friends. his black blazer fits perfectly, and even the way he leans against the wall looks effortless.

you grip the gift bag tighter, your palms sweaty. every step toward him feels heavier than the last. just do it. what’s the worst that could happen?

but then, as you’re halfway there, a girl beats you to it.

she’s hard to miss. her shiny black hair is styled into perfect curls, and her red dress—a bold choice for a school day—clings to her figure like it was made for her. she’s holding out a bouquet of roses with a bright smile, her glossy lips catching the light. she’s confident, composed, and everything you feel you aren’t.

you freeze as she steps up to sunghoon. he accepts the roses politely, his expression unreadable, and your heart sinks.

for a moment, you wonder if this is it. if valentine’s day will end like every other day—with your feelings locked away and your hopes dashed.

by the time the last bell rings, you’re ready to give up. the gift bag sits in your lap as you wait in the art room, staring blankly at the wall. you couldn’t bear to sit in the cafeteria, where you’d have to watch sunghoon receive more confessions. what if he already likes someone else? what if you’ve been delusional this entire time?

your best friend, jay, eventually finds you there, his eyebrows shooting up when he sees your defeated posture.

“you’re seriously just gonna sit here all day?” he asks, plopping down in the seat across from you.

“don’t start, jay.”

he ignores you, leaning forward with a knowing smirk. “you’ve been crushing on sunghoon for what, a year? and you still can’t tell him? you realize this is, like, the perfect day to confess, right?”

“i can’t,” you mutter, staring at your hands. “he’s already gotten so many confessions today. what if he doesn’t want mine? or worse, what if he laughs at me?”

jay groans, dragging a hand down his face. “god, you’re so dramatic. sunghoon isn’t like that. he’s literally the nicest guy ever. and honestly? i think he likes you.”

you snap your head up. “don’t say that. he doesn’t.”

jay shrugs, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “guess we’ll never know. unless…”

before you can react, he snatches the gift bag off your desk and bolts out of the room.

“jay!” you shriek, jumping to your feet.

the scene that unfolds is nothing short of a nightmare. jay runs through the hallway, holding the bag high above his head as you chase after him, your face burning with humiliation.

“give it back!” you hiss, lunging for the bag, but he dodges effortlessly.

students turn to watch, laughing at the commotion, and then—because fate is cruel—you see him.

sunghoon stands near his locker, his dark eyes watching the chaos unfold. his hair catches the afternoon light, and his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to laugh.

you freeze mid-step, your stomach dropping. jay notices him too, and because he’s the worst friend in the world, he stops right in front of sunghoon, holding the bag out dramatically.

“this is for you,” jay says, grinning like a madman.

the silence that follows is deafening.

you want to disappear, to melt into the floor and never come back. but then, slowly, sunghoon takes the bag.

carefully, he opens it, pulling out the box of chocolates first. his eyebrows lift in surprise when he sees the brand—it’s his favorite. of course, it is. you’d spent weeks noticing the little details about him, including the snacks he bought after practice.

he unfolds the note next, his eyes scanning the words you’d spent hours agonizing over. the tension is unbearable. every second feels like an eternity.

and then, he smiles. not the polite smile he gives everyone else, but something real and warm.

he looks at it for a moment before turning his gaze to you. “is this true?” he asks, his voice soft.

you nod helplessly, unable to speak.

“thanks,” he says, his voice almost shy. “i was kinda hoping you’d say something today.”

you blink, your brain struggling to process his words. “you… you were?”

sunghoon chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. i’ve liked you since we were chemistry partners. you were just so… you. funny, kind, a little clumsy. i thought it was cute.”

your heart feels like it might burst. “you like me?”

“yeah,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

the rest of the day feels like a dream. sunghoon walks you to the bus stop, his shoulder brushing against yours as you talk. he tells you more—about how he’d also been too nervous to confess, about how he kept waiting for a sign that you might feel the same.

and when he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek, you’re sure of one thing: valentine’s day is magical.

but only because of him.

[pangur-and-grim]

here's the first chapter if anyone's interested:

Anna Stewart is a changeling. Anna is not a human being.

In the first month of its life, the wrinkled infant produced by Mr. and Mrs. Stewart, with fists bunched and face red from crying, was taken from its bassinet and cradled in long, thin arms. If the Stewarts, sleeping in an adjacent bed, noticed anything, it would’ve been sleep-fogged relief at the sudden quiet. Birch-white hands left Anna in its place. Those same hands dressed it in clothing stripped from the infant. The pink rabbit onesie hung baggy on the changeling – perhaps the earliest indicator that human society would be a poor fit. It did not cry.

It did not complain. It simply stared with bright, alert eyes, and waited, its mouth puckered in ravenous anticipation.

The Stewarts did not notice the change, not at first, although within the week Mrs. Stewart had switched to formula.

And how could they notice? The changeling’s appearance had been shaped for them. Its teeth filed, its skin smoothed, its limbs condensed into uselessness. Throughout the years as it grew, its form strained at these boundaries, aching for expression, but the cocoon of humanity remained rigid about it. The changeling stayed a Stewart.

It grew up. It went to high school. It got into none of the colleges that Mrs. Stewart helped it apply to. It lost multiple jobs in a row, due to some inexact quality that it could not correct in itself, but that made dogs bark and humans curl their lip. It turned 22, with no money, and no driver’s licence, having failed to gain distance from its childhood bedroom.

And now it woke up.

Mrs. Stewart had friends over. Their high-pitched laughter pierced the morning quiet and invaded the warm nest of it bedding. It tried, futilely, to submerge back into dreaming, but another laugh sounded – a braying AHHhahahaha!

It gave up and kicked its way out of twisted blankets and pillows.

The changeling staggered to the bathroom to perform it morning routines. It practiced a smile, showing only the upper teeth, not the lower. Then it walked out, wishing only to slip past the crowd, and grab whatever food it could from the kitchen counter.

Immediate failure – its carefully lowered foot drew a creak from the top step, and the humans turned as one. It froze, pinned like an insect by their stares.

“What is that on your face?” called Mrs. Stewart, too loudly. As though it did not descend the stairs each day slathered in lotion. Its delicate skin, better suited for the humidity of the Other World, did not agree with indoor heating.

“Moisturizer. You know this,” it said, in its own performance. “I do this every winter.” It scanned the faces of the guests, to see how they’d take that information – that its mother had pretended not to know! That Mrs. Stewart had taken a stance against her own (supposed) child!

“Might want to rub it in,” said one of the women, and another laughed.

“You should rub it in,” said Mrs. Stewart, “Really, Anna”

The guests, gathered around a coffee table in an array of plush seating, exchanged glances with wrinkled foreheads and twitching lips. With a sigh, it plodded back up the stairs. The lotion leant more moisture if it packed it on thick and let it sit – and why not do so, in its own house?

The betrayal also stung. All it had was its mother.

Mr. Stewart was not a factor.

He was, after all, the reason for its presence here. A deal made, a child promised – and wouldn’t you know, the cheap patch of land he had purchased churned out a fascinating amount of oil.

But he hadn’t been able to live with the child that had supplanted his own. In a moment of drunken anger (directed not toward the changeling, but at her fled spouse) Mrs. Stewart had ranted.

“He couldn’t stop talking about your ‘black bird eyes’, or how you never smile, or how you can’t put on weight,” – pausing, Mrs. Stewarts’ eyes had glinted with a malice that had it bracing its shoulders – “he even suggested giving you up for adoption. Can you imagine? His own flesh and blood?”

Except that it wasn’t his flesh and blood.

It had simply done its best approximation of a smile, nodded vigorously between her exclamations, and said “What a bastard!” which seemed to satisfy, or at least amuse her.

It never had the courage to ask if her feelings would change, if a link of blood did not, in fact, connect them. If it were simply a child raised by a mother, and not one born from her. If it would still, in that case, be an acceptable burden, or if she would snarl at all her wasted energy and finally cast it off.

The changeling lay in bed with these thoughts. A tear slid down its cheek and was absorbed into its thick coating of lotion.

“You are spiralling,” it said to itself, sternly. “You are self-indulging in negativity.” Likely exacerbated by its empty stomach. It always ate with a speed that hinged on desperation, though this translated not to fat, but to wiry muscles that wrapped its arms and legs. This might grant grace to another, but the changeling had the jerky, sudden movements of a lizard.

It rubbed at eyes itchy with tears. Venturing downstairs in this state was not an option. Instead, it dressed for the outside world (wiping its face clean, and combing its long, lank hair) and opened its bedroom window. It stepped out onto the branches of a hybrid poplar, whose growth it had encouraged for this exact purpose. The young tree bowed under its weight, but the changeling whispered encouragement, and it held.

In summer, it grew sunflowers along this side of the house. They obscured windows with their yellow petals and granted privacy for its excursions. By early winter, these blackened and drooped and rotted. The changeling moved with great care, ducking beneath the corpses of sunflowers to avoid attracting gazes from the living room. Easily done; the guests seemed consumed by one another, enraptured by each other’s wit and company. Which baffled it, as on the few occasions it had joined them, when it was younger and smaller and possibly cuter, they had proved to be such dull conversationalists that it had bit the inside of its cheek to blood, and very nearly been moved to rage.

Now it scampered down the curve of the ravine that its family home sat at the edge of. The frost that coated their shorn grass melted under the warmth of its bare feet. If it had left through the front door, Mrs. Stewart would have yelled at it to wear shoes, and almost certainly socks as well.

The trees greeted the changeling as they always did; with sways and creaks, and releases of chemicals that teased the bare skin of its face and hands. It replied, as it always did, with boundless affection.

“I love you, I love you,” it said, ducking beneath outstretched branches, and bounding over roots. “Thank you, thank you!”

Slipping into the other world could be done in any forest, but it was particularly easy in the changeling’s ravine. All one must do is ask the trees, please, please can you shudder a hole in reality through which I might slip like a rabbit disappearing into its labyrinthian warren, and the trees say “okay!” and do just that. Ask this of them a hundred times, and then a thousand, and they will intuit your forward progress, and shiver up a hole before a request can leave your throat.

And sometimes, horribly, if a tree is particularly friendly and obliging, they’ll extend that favour to anyone who passes.

This is what it found on that morning.

It shrugged happily through a ripple in space and felt the cold winter slip away, the only evidence of it being the frost-nipped redness of its fingers and toes. It was about to merrily skip to its planted orchard, for a morning feast of its own succulent harvest, when it saw the footprints.

Or boot prints, rather, as these sole-blind fools had constrained themselves with footwear.

“Who the fuck…?” It said, and then put a finger to its mouth to gnaw at, anxiously. Don’t Spiral, Anna!

Most likely, the idiot tree that had opened the way for these intruders would repeat its trick, if they wandered back along the same path. But would they think to? To duck under the same branch, touch a hand on the same trunk, all of them at once? For the changeling could see three trails of disturbance.

Boot prints pushed deep into the soft soil, advertising the passage of someone large and heavy. And there, a patch of moss scraped at by a hand. The height of the finger rakes implied someone smaller in statue. And the third – oh, it did not like the third at all. The third left a massacre in their wake, broken branches, plucked leaves, thrown stones, kicks and scores in the earth. Someone deeply understimulated, certainly, but also someone who failed to heed or appreciate the chemical screams of vegetation.

It sighed. If this third individual caused sufficient offence, the trees might turn peevish and refuse to open the way back, even if they perfectly retraced their steps. This left the trio doomed to their fate.

“Curse my gentle nature,” it said, and growled out its annoyance, before going through the breathing exercises prescribed by its therapist. It could never tell if they actually did anything physiologically, or if they simply provided a distraction, but regardless, it worked to soothe them at least one out of every three times.

That done, it sighed in a performance that the trees lacked the capacity to appreciate, and started off down the very obvious, very messy trail, to save three unconsenting humans from getting trapped in a better world.

oh......my writing instructor gave me really good feedback. I was so worried, because this was a How Blunt Can We Be About This Autism Metaphor story, so it felt a little too personal to share, but she liked it! yay!

[ickaimp]

[Magic Kaito] Scheduling

It's my birthday, so obviously, there should be fic. 700 words, silliness. +++

Saguru wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here, other than the fact that it wasn’t a school night. And, well, Kid. Specifically a Kid Heist Notice. Which wasn’t for another three days. A bit larger of a lead time than normal, but Kid hadn’t made an appearance in several weeks, most likely due to it being the end of the school season and this being the first time Kid had a break to do so. But still, Saguru usually arrived later in the process, not for the initial heist note meeting. His presence  was mostly superfluous at them, especially given the straight forward nature of the current note and that Kid wouldn’t be there. “Alright, men!” Nakamori-keibu bellowed and Saguru tried to flinch at the volume. Truely, did everything have time be at high decibel? “Kid has sent us a notice for three days from now at 1800-“

“I really wish he didn’t.” The owner of the large inherited topaz flinched.

Normally gem owners tended to fall into two categories, either having something to hide --usually a fake heist notice-- or attempting to challenge the Kid’s skills. The current target went in a different direction… nervous fussing.  “It’s my daughter’s graduation and I wanted to be there.”

“Oh snap.” A familiar voice said from Saguru’s left and he jumped slightly. “Forgot about graduation. Would you like to reschedule?”

The Kid’s voice came from the officer standing next to Saguru. One who was twice Saguru’s age and whom he’d sworn had gotten checked for being the Kid.

“Oh would you?” The mousy gem owner looked relieved.

Kid stepped forward, the Task Force uniform vanishing with a small poof of smoke, to be replaced by the Kaitou Kid’s familiar white suit, top hat, and cape. “Certainly. When would be a good date for you?”

Kid hopped up on the desk, lightly crouching on it as the gem owner pulled out a paper planner, running his fingers across the pages. “How’s the 19th?”

Kid pulled out a phone, checking his calendar as Nakamori made an irate sound. “I’m booked.” Kid reported. “Can do the 17th or 20th though.”

“I’m out of town the 20th-“

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Nakamori bellowed, his face a violent angry red. Kid clicked his finger and held up a finger in the inspector’s direction, the thief’s gaze on his phone as if Nakamori was the one being unconscionably rude. 

“-I have work most of the 17th.” The gem owner continued. “But the evening is free.”

Kid made a thoughtful sound. “I supposed that would give me enough time-“

“You could check it now.” Saguru suggested. “Since you’re currently both free.”

Both Kid and the gem owner looked up at Saguru with identical looks of polite confusion. Saguru resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Not everything needs to be a magic show.”

Kid gasped in outrage, one gloved hand pressed against his chest, clearly offended.

“He’s got a point.” The gem owner gestured to the large stone on his desk. “Help yourself.”

Kid nodded, hopping off the desk, picking up the gem and walking over to the window and holding it up to the moonlight. When nothing happened, he turned back and set the gem back on the desk, offering the owner his gloved hand. “Thank you very much, it was a pleasure doing business with you.”

The gem owner shook his hand. “Likewise.”

Kid turned to the officers and gave them a polite tilt of his hat. “Gentlemen.” He said, then walked out the door.

Saguru pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily as no one moved. 

“-GET HIM!!” Nakamori belatedly bellowed, pointing to the door the thief had just walked out of. That seemed to startle the Task Force and they scrambled to take off running, several getting stuck in the doorway and preventing the others from escaping.

“Well.” Said the gem owner, looking quite chuffed. “That was exciting.” Saguru rubbed his face with a hand, torn between exasperation and amusement, remembering once again why he attended as many Kid heists as possible. He’d been to crime scenes for years and seriously. Stuff like this only happened with the Kaitou Kid. -fin-

[xetlynn]

JJK Imagines- Saturo Gojo

Pink Panties

⚠️Warning🔞: SMUT (My first time writing it so... sorry if it's not the best) Summary: You’re a sharp tongued woman who doesn’t put up with Gojo’s flirting…

[jjk] [main page]

Contains: afab, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, f!recieving oral.

I make my way to meet with Principal Yaga. Gojo is supposed to be there as well but I doubt it due to him just getting back from a mission and that usually means he makes some sort of excuse to miss it. 

I entered the room, I’m surprised to actually see Gojo sitting there with Principal Yaga. Both of them look up to me. “Surprised to see me? Hm~” The white haired idiot asks with a smile on his face. I rolled my eyes, sitting on the other side of the table as Yaga was in between us. “What’s the meaning of this?” I immediately questioned, avoiding the area of the teacher who was trying to get my attention. 

“There’s a mission in Osaka that needs to be taken care of. Needs two sorcerers to take care of this mess.” Yaga explains, I take in a sharp breath. He knows how I feel about leaving my students. “How long will this take, do you estimate?” I furrow my brows. 

“About three days, depending on how you two work together.” He answers, I glance over to my coworker who gives me a small wave. My expression drops even further than it already has. “This is going to take a week.” I stand up, slamming my hand on the table. “Oh, be excited [Name]! You get to work with the strongest! It will take two days I guarantee.” Gojo says after me as I walk away. “You leave tonight!” Yaga shouts loud enough for us to hear. 

“I know how much you hate being away from our precious children.” He clasps his hands together striding behind me as I fume with anger. Being stuck with this man for longer than an hour is enough torture for me. “Our students.” I corrected him, “they’re doing amazing. I believe they will be okay without us for a week.” I turn the corner. 

“You keep saying a week I think that’s the amount of time you want to spend with me.” He snickers, attempting to lean on me but I punch him in his gut. His infinity stopped me from actually touching him though. Only causing him to laugh even more. “You always try that. Always fail.” He teases me. 

“You’re very irritating, Gojo.” I open the door to a lounge, going to sit on the first chair I see. “Mm, I think you secretly enjoy my presence.” He heads over to the fridge, pulling the door open. “In your dreams.” I mutter, I take my phone out to see a message from Shoko. “You do seem to have made a habitat in my mind whilst I sleep.” He picks up something from the bottom shelf of the fridge. Walking over to sit in front of me. 

Later in the night Gojo and I stand in front of the school, and Ichiji pulls up, rolling his window down. “Why doesn’t Gojo use his Blue to get to Osaka?” He questions as the both of us throw our bags in the passenger seat since they were only backpacks. “Because he has to be up my ass whenever he can and I don’t like the feeling of being teleported.” I spit out, climbing into the back seat of the car. Gojo follows right behind me. 

“I would love to be-” 

“Don’t finish that sentence if you know what’s good for you, Gojo Saturo.” I point a finger in his face, clicking my seatbelt on and Ichiji begins to drive. “No need to get hostile, beautiful.” He compliments sweetly, also clicking his seatbelt on. 

“Shut up.” I tell him, adjusting myself so I’m facing the window, leaning my head on my hand to fall asleep comfortably but also making sure I get nowhere near the man beside me. 

As I keep my eyes shut I finally fall asleep after twenty minutes of being on the road. 

When we got to our destination I woke up to Gojo’s hand in the middle of the seats. I glare down at it. It looks like it was expecting to be held. I then look up to him already facing me with a smile. “Was my hand tempting you, beautiful?” He lifts his hand up, wiggling his fingers. “Almost as tempting as punching you in the face.” I got out of the car not before thanking Ichiji. He hands me my bag in response with a short nod. 

We were standing in front of a hotel. “I hope they only gave us one bed. How romantic would that be?” Gojo nudges me and I give him an angry expression. “You would sleep on the floor.” I pushed him away from me, surprisingly his infinity was off. We head inside, a lady sitting at the front desk with a bored look on her face. 

“Reservation for Gojo and [Last Name].” I give her a polite smile. She looks up to me with the same bored expression. “Hm?” She then eyes me up and down then over to Gojo. I watch as her body language shifts. A grin now on her face, posture straighter and I immediately drop my smile. Sighing. 

“What did you say your reservation name was, sir?” She motions for Gojo to answer. His face contorts at first. “I didn’t say anything.” He tells her. He kind of shocked me with his response. Normally he’d soak up any type of attention he got from a woman.

“She did though, didn’t you, beautiful?” He places a hand on my back. I scrunch my nose in disgust. “Gojo and [Last Name].” I grumble out, shimmying away from his touch. “Oh, sorry ma’am.” She types away on her computer. “Ah, room 404. Here you are.” She hands me the keycard. “Thanks.” I take it, walking away now with an attitude because of whatever that interaction was. 

“Ouu fourth floor! Hopefully we have a balcony.” Gojo excitedly says, pressing the button for the elevator. “We’re only here to sleep.” I remind him. “Ah, I don’t need much sleep so it’d be nice to have the balcony while you sleep. Unless you want me in the room. I wouldn’t mind either actually. Both would have nice views!” He exclaims as we enter the elevator, he presses the button with a 4 on it. 

“I hope we have a balcony.” I mumble under my breath, I hear him quietly laugh to himself. “Glad we can agree.” He says. The elevator dings and we exit. Our room was only two doors down. Not much walking. 

I swipe the keycard and open the door. I smile at the sight. Two beds. “Thank you, Yaga.” I put my hands together happily. “Awe man.” Gojo throws his bag on his bed as I jump on mine. “At least you got your balcony.” I motion to the tiny balcony that could only fit two people standing up. “This sucks. I’m going down there and getting us a better room asap.” He grumbles, and I laugh. 

“Oh calm down you baby, I made it look smaller than it was.” I snap my fingers and the balcony grows to its actual width. “That was not nice, beautiful.” He wiggles his finger in disapprovement. “Wasn’t meant to be.” I shrug my shoulders before digging into my backpack. “I’m going to take a shower, don't do anything stupid.” I take my pajamas out and head to the bathroom. “Don’t take too long! I’ll miss you!” He calls after me, I flip him off before entering the room. 

I shut the door behind me and set my stuff down. I let out a huff, this is going to be a long mission. I can feel it. I turn the water on and stare at it, watching it until I see steam so I can then take my clothes off. I throw the dirty clothes in the corner before getting in the shower. 

It was a quick shower, somehow I feel tired all over again even though I just slept five to six hours in the car. 

I get dressed into a sweater and go to pick up my underwear but I don’t see it in my little pile. I glance around the bathroom hoping I dropped it in here. “Shit.” I whisper. Hopefully I left it in my bag and didn’t drop it out there. I slip my shorts on and pick up my dirty clothes to put it in a plastic bag I have in my backpack. I swung open the door and Gojo was standing there with my panties in his hand. A large grin plastered on his face. 

I squeeze my eyes shut, groaning in embarrassment. “Forgot something, hm?” He dangles it in front of my face and I glare at him. “You’re not funny.” I go to snatch it but he lifts it up higher. “They seem to be brand new, never worn before?” He observes the light pink cotton panties. “Gojo, please.” I reach to grab them again but he just lifts it up once again. 

“Answer my question.” He sticks his tongue in between his teeth, genuinely waiting. I give him an “are you serious?” look and he just nods his head.

“I- No, I’ve worn them a few times.” My face heats up, I push past him and put my dirty clothes on my bed. “Can I just have them, please.” I stick my hand out but he shrugs his shoulders. “How badly do you want them, beautiful?” He asks.

“Gojo, this isn’t funny.” I walk over to him attempting to jump up and grab them. “You’re going to have to try a little harderrr~” He snickers. I only brought one other pair because I figured I could use a washing machine if we needed to stay longer. And that was my one other pair. 

I get on top of the bed and go to snatch it since I was higher up but it only causes him to pick me up. 

As a reflex I wrap my legs around his waist still trying to grab the stupid pair of underwear. “Beautiful if you wanted me to carry you I would’ve done so.” He continues to tease me and I just roll my eyes in response. “I can’t believe I’m feeding into your fantasies you pervert.” I finally grab the pair of underwear and I hold it tight in my hand so he can’t snatch it back. 

“Got them.” I grunt, unwrapping my legs and jumping down. His hand was on my back to steady me. I looked up at him and his blindfold was down to his neck now. I didn’t even realize that it fell. “That was unnecessary.” I shove him but he barely moves. “Mm, to you.” He steps closer to me. “I would love to see you in those pink little panties.” He whispers as he looks down at me. 

“I’m sure you do.” I whisper back, not looking away from him. 

“You’re not wearing panties at all right now are you?” He questions, his eyes traveling down to my legs. My shorts were hidden under my large sweater. “That’s none of your business.” I avoid the stupid question.

“I got my answer.” He snickers, I didn’t even realize how close he was. His nose inches from my own. I’ve never thought of Gojo this way. I mean he just played around with my own underwear from me. I should be wanting to kill him. But I can feel my own arousal… 

I pressed my thighs together to get some sort of friction as Gojo Saturo, the man I hated, was staring me down. “Let me help you with your… little problem.” He hesitantly places his hand on my hip, when he sees I’m not going to stop him he gently lifts my sweater up so he can feel my skin. His fingers are squeezing at my flesh. I subtly gasp at the coldness of his fingertips. 

“Are you going to stop me?” He tilted his head, his voice was sultry and smooth. A different tone from what I’m used to. I avoid eye contact, shaking my head ‘no.’ 

His other hand lifts up to my face, his fingers grabbing my chin, forcing me to look back up to him. “I need an answer, beautiful. With words.” He orders. 

“Just fucking touch me, Gojo.” I tell him through grinding teeth, not believing that left my mouth. He licks his lips with a smile, his hands pushing me to the bed. “Saturo, don’t call me Gojo during this.” He then finally closes the distance between us by kissing my lips. He guides me further on the bed so he can kneel on the edge, not unlocking our kiss doing so. 

His hands grip onto my hips, pulling me as close as possible to him. 

After what felt like hours of making out he pulls away, he roughly takes his shirt off, throwing it on the ground. I then do the same thing, just wanting this to happen sooner. 

“No bra either? I’m starting to think you left your panties on the ground on purpose~” He satirized me, his hands immediately found my boobs, his mouth on mine once again. “So soft.” He whines in between kisses. 

He then kisses the corner of my mouth, going down to my neck. “I’m going to make you feel so good you’ll never have a mean thing to say ever again.” He promises, I let out a shaky breath feeling his lips kiss in between my breasts, trailing all the way down to my shorts. “Let’s see what’s down here.” He smiles to himself, tapping my thighs indicating that I need to lift up. I do so and he yanks my shorts off abruptly. I let out a small yelp due to the coldness hitting me down there. My legs were spread since he was in between them. Giving him an automatic view of my pussy. 

“It’s prettier than I ever imagined.” He cooed, his left hand was holding onto my thigh as he got closer down. His stomach now on the bed. His face inches from my core. His other hand traced around my pussy, teasing me. My hole clenching around nothing, waiting for some sort of action. “Oh, you gotta be patient [Name]... I’ve been wanting this for a long, long time.” He bites his lips, admiring me from down there. I hide my face in my hands. “Shut up.” I pull a pillow to me to put my head on it. “Don’t be shy now.” He chuckles, before I even get myself fully situated I feel his lips connected to my clit. 

My leg jerks from the sudden contact and his hand grabs my ankle to keep it still. He plants kisses on my sweet spot. “You’re soaking already.” He enthusiastically mutters, his tongue now diving in. I instinctively grab his hair in response. “Go- Saturo…” I moaned out. 

He begins to suck at my clit, his little whimpers he let out vibrating causing even more pleasure for me. I hump my hips into his mouth as he practically makes out with my cunt. 

My fingers massage into his scalp, taking ahold a handful of hair. Tugging on it as he gets faster. “Saturo, please.. Please keep going, keep going!” I beg, throwing my head back. I heard him mumble something but I couldn’t make it out. 

Then I feel two digits enter my soaking, lonesome hole as his tongue plays with my bud. His fingers begin to scissor inside of me, going in and out whilst stretching me out. “Don’t stop, I’m almost there!” I squeal out, not able to say it any other way. My other hand found his hair. I attempt to bring him closer, grinding myself on his face. 

“I’m almost there, i’m almost there!” I cry, tears actually brimming my eyes. He hums out loud as his fingers get faster. His head moved side to side, his nose adding extra satisfaction. I feel him try to lift his head but I push him back.

His laugh muffled as he does what I want him to do. My tummy tightens and I feel like I’m about to explode. “Oh I’m cu- cumming! I’m cumming!” I call out senselessly. My hips roll, riding out my orgasm. He pulls his head back but still fingering me, making it even more intense than there being nothing. “Did that feel good, beautiful?” His fingers stop their movement but don’t leave my pussy, his palm now laying on my clit as he comes up to kiss me. 

“Taste yourself? Taste that?” He sloppily makes out with me. “Hm?”

“Mhm.” I tiredly respond, feeling slightly fucked out already and it was only the beginning. “I want you to taste how amazing you are.” He pulls his fingers that were once in my cunt up to my lips. “Suck them.” He demands, tracing his fingers around my lips before shoving them into my mouth. My tongue wraps around them and I begin to slurp up my own juices. My eyes never leave his.

His pupils dilated to where I could barely see the bright blinding blue. “What a sight.” He grins, taking his fingers away with a pop after exiting my mouth. “I need to be inside you.” He groans, he gets off the bed to shove his pants off impatiently. I observe him as my hands go to my boobs, my fingers toying with my nipples. 

His dick springs out once his boxers go down with his pants, I notice the pre-cum already oozing out making the redness of his tip more prominent. I bite my lip as my mouth waters at the sight. “Like what you see?” Saturo winks, I roll my eyes. “I got so into eating you out I didn’t even notice my blindfold.” He laughs at himself, taking his blindfold off from it being around his neck. “It got some of your juices on it.” He pouts, throwing it on top of his pants. “What a messy girl.” He crawls back on the bed and in between my legs. 

I look away embarrassed but he grips my jaw, making me look back at him. “I want you to watch me fuck your little pretty pussy.” He commands, letting my face go to smack my thighs open even more for him. “Just look at that.” 

He takes his cock into his hand, smacking it on my clit. I jolt since I was still sensitive from the orgasm I just had. “I need you to watch, remember beautiful.” His hand goes to the back of my neck lifting me to get a better look at his thick mushroom tip entering my desperate hole. 

“You’re taking too long.” I complain, wiggling down for him to fill me up.

 “Oh yeah? Too needy for this cock huh?” His hand drops my neck and goes to my hip along with his other one. “Yes, please. Come on, idiot.” I frown. “Back to those mean names, beautiful? They really hurt my feelings, you know.” Then before I could spit back he thrusts forward, now fully sheathed into me. I yelp in response, grabbing onto his hands.  

“I really have to dick you down senseless just to be nice to me?” He pulls back to where his cock is almost out of me. “I- Fuck you.” I spew out. “That’s what I’m about to do, beautiful.” He harshly thrusts back into me, now keeping a steady pace. 

“Have anything to say now, meanie?” He huffs, squeezing my hips to bring them close to him as he’s already maliciously bullying my walls. His tip repeatedly hit that perfect g-spot in the back. All he gets in response is a dumb-ified set of moans that get knocked out from the rough hits. 

Skin to skin loudly smacking. Almost sounding like it’s echoing in this hotel room.

I feel stupid with how I couldn’t respond to him. My hands finding their way to his sides, clawing at them from how intense everything feels. 

“I- I’m clo-se! Harder!” I wrap my legs around his waist.

I close my eyes, taking in the feeling that’s in my stomach once again but before I get there I feel emptiness in my core. My eyes shoot open. “Wha- Why’d you do that?” I angrily ask him. He laughs, picking me up. “Turn around.” He does a little spin with his finger. I get onto my knees, my ass touching the heels of my feet.

“Say please.” I cross my arms, not liking the way he just talked to me. “Beautiful if you want to feel that orgasm, do as said.” He glances to the spot in the bed of where he wants me. “Say please first.” I argue with him. “Don’t make me force you now.” He pouts, but when I don’t move he sighs. 

Seconds later his hands grab my waist, moving where I was to then shove my torso down leaving my ass in the air. His hand travels to my head, pushing it even further into the sheets as his dick re-enters my pussy. I let out a relieved moan.

 It doesn’t last long when he begins pounding into me. His hand still pushing my face into the bed, his other grabbing my ass, playing with it like it was a fun toy.

My hand goes down to my clit, rubbing it so I can feel my orgasm. “Saturooo, faster.” I plead. “Faster? He repeats, I nod my head. “I need your words!” He sings. 

“Fuck me faster!” I yell out, bringing my ass to meet his pelvis. He lets go of my head and smacks my ass, grabbing onto my hips to fuck me at an unfathomable pace. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” I grip onto the sheet as I also rub my clit. “Almost there?” 

“Mhm, keep going.” I fuck my ass back to meet him once again. He mutters out profanities, his thrusts getting sloppier. “I’m close to.” He tells me.

“Move your hand.” He swats my hand that was attached to my clit to replace it with his own getting me closer. “Fuck!” I cry out, arching my back when I feel all the little butterflies in my stomach erupt wildly. I hear my pussy squelch loudly. “Where do you want my cum?” He grunts, as his takes his fingers back from my clit. His dick still pumping in and out of me. “Inside,” I murmur, tucking my thighs together making it tighter for him. “Shit.” He whimpers.

“I’ll give it all to you.” He humps into me at a quick pace once again. I cry out, feeling another orgasm coming. “Gonna fill this pussy to the brim.”

“You want that don’t you? You want Saturo Gojo’s cum filled deep inside that cunt.” He says, never relenting. “I wa-want it, give it to mee~” 

“Yeah, here, here ohmygoddd~” His hips connect to my ass, grabbing my hips to pull me as close as possible so his load travels deep inside me. I wiggle my hips to feel his cock massage around my walls. “Fuck, beautiful…” He hovers over me, grabbing my neck to pull me in for a messy kiss before slowly slipping out of me.

I feel a mixture of our cum spilling out of my cunt. He pulls away to watch it. I turn my head to see his expression. He then takes the cum and pushes it back into my hole.

I lay my legs down so he can’t see it anymore. “Awe, got shy again?” He giggles, wiping some of the cum onto my ass. “You’re so weird.” I mumble into the bed, feeling my eyes get heavy. “Let me clean you up before you go to sleep, [Name].” He gets up off of the bed. I hear him in the bathroom and the sink water turns on for a few moments and then he comes back. “Lift your hips, beautiful.” He taps my ass. I lay there for a moment wondering if I should be a smart ass or not but he beats me to it when he says “please.” 

I smirk, doing as he told me to and he cleans the cum up with a wet rag before cleaning himself and throwing the cum rag on the ground. I flinch in disgust. 

I tiredly sit up as he puts his boxers back on before laying down on the bed. I lay on top of him, pulling the covers over us. “Not even going to get dressed in those pink panties?” He says coyly. “Shhh.” I put my finger to his lips, I feel him kiss it as I doze off. 

[seafoamreadings]

week of november 24th, 2024

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: this week's activity centers primarily around your 9th house; it is a great time to go (back?) to school, make philosophical or religious (re?)considerations, and plan for distant travel, although i would hold off until after mercury is direct again to actually buy any tickets or such.

taurus: while the energy is rather fiery at this time it is not so much a time for action as it is for passionate planning. any shared resources should be handled with caution and new ones - debts, loans, stocks, properties? - should not be added on or altered significantly for a while. on the other hand it's a pretty sweet time in intimate relationships, or for occult practices.

gemini: jupiter is still in your sign of course so nothing is going to go TERRIBLY awry, but be watchful for relationship turbulence. things may seem to go backwards and new things (issues, questions, or excitements) will pop up towards the end of the week too.

cancerians: a new moon this week puts you in a phase of intention-setting - but not quite action on those intentions yet - and ideally these plans and intentions are set around your routines and bodily wellness. if things don't seem to take off immediately, they're not supposed to. play a long game.

leo: fire vibes suit you very well and no retrograde can really slow you down when it comes to that. the new moon at the end of the week can be a bit emotionally heavy but really, even that is in sagittarius and makes a good indicator that you should be having a good fun time. a new romance may also spark.

virgo: sure, if you're a more mercurial virgo a mercury retrograde should never be discounted. but consider that you might be more heavily influenced by ceres, who this week sextiles neptune in your 7th house. this is good for romance, so you can have a lot of fun with this, although bear in mind that the vibes are not extremely great for turning romance into responsible commitments.

libra: don't let anyone scare you about mercury retrograde stuff this week. do be careful, of course, with messages, emails, and especially your vehicle if you have one, but all in all this is a pretty auspicious week for you, especially if you go a little bit out of your way to experience/learn some history of your local community and connect to the land you are on.

scorpio: while all mercury retrograde protocols always apply, this time around be cautious about your spending, finances, and values broadly speaking. it won't hurt to reconsider what really matters most to you in life, and what wealth is other than money.

sagittarius: if you're uncomfortable with the spotlight i have bad news for you. so much is happening in your sign that you can't help but be a focus. granted, you may not be under as much scrutiny as it feels. still, best to act with integrity and not get caught in any dishonesty or sordid affairs. a new moon in your sign at the end of the week is actually great for your sense of identity, your self concept, and your first impressions - so use that to your advantage.

capricorn: huge amounts of activity occur in sagittarius all week - likely your 12th house. keep a cool head. no addictive behavior if possible and no substance abuse, or, preferably even use if it can be managed. no flying off the handle or trying to escape the hard reality of what is. i'm preaching to the choir here, likely, but reality only improves for you if you handle it. no sweeping it under the rug.

aquarius: friendships fade in and out of your life over time, and sometimes back in again. retrogrades, starting with mercury this week, can create the illusion that you have lost some social connections you'd rather keep. but it really is an illusion; either that or that person was really not good for you in some way and it is a blessing they have retreated.

pisces: if you were planning to make any big career moves consider them hibernating or in torpor. it's temporary but it's a slowdown. delays will turn out to favor you, so don't despair. it's good for now to lie low and stay out of the public eye; a mysterious air about you will also benefit you.

watch the transit posts in real time to have the best guide through your week. want a little more? have a look at my patreon or ko-fi.

check out my etsy for a private reading or dm me to set up a reading through venmo, cashapp, or paypal.

[twiishaa]

HI CONGRATULATIONS ON 100 🫶🏽 i would loveee to attend the sleepover :p i’m bringing gone girl by gillian flynn and tangled (2010)! we should also have a midnight feast 4 sure 🙌 (with suna pls)

MWAH MWAH CONGRATS AGAIN

! 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 twisha’s 100 followers slumber party ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ - it’s cold, but maybe you’ll warm me up

suna x reader , wc approx 800 warnings i am a pusher of the down bad but nonchalant suna agenda

check out the event!

—

oh how you wish you had brought your jacket today. trying to ignore the people’s stares and whispers as they walked past you, you walked a few steps further from school gates, wiping your tears.

see, the thing was you were supposed to go out on a date with your boyfriend. he had been busy with his club the past week, so when he finally said he was free you got excited and started planning your date. but, once he met you outside the school gates, he said he wanted to break up, and left seconds after, leaving you alone in the cold.

maybe you were getting ahead of yourself; this was your first relationship after all, you even ‘forgot your jacket’ so that he would give you his. but, maybe, the people who said high school romance only lasts so long were correct.

winters in hyōgo were not for the faint of heart. the icy wind hitting your face made you wince, and the cold air made your shallow exhales condense. the cold left you shivering and numb, but left your heart toyed with, and your feelings raw.

—

maybe running would warm you up. after going a fair distance from the school, you sat down on a bench you found. the metal was cold. everything was cold. you brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them, it was your way of giving yourself a hug.

maybe he planned to leave you from the beginning. maybe he was never serious about it like you were. maybe you were the problem, maybe there was something wrong with you. were you too eager? too enthusiastic? too clingy? lost, you could feel tears welling up in your eyes and spilling down your bitterly cold cheeks.

at least your tears were warm.

—

it could’ve been a few minutes or even an hour since you found that bench; you hadn’t kept track of time since you were eagerly waiting your boyfriend (well, now your ex) outside the school gates. suddenly, you felt a jacket wrap around your figure, warmth instantly flowing back into your body.

there was a guy standing in front of you. before you looked up, he said,

“are you purposely trying to get pneumonia or something? you look like ice,” you recognised that voice; it was one you’d heard in your brother’s room so many times before.

why would suna, your brother’s best friend, be here? you lifted your head, your tear-streaked face catching his attention. there was a slight hint of worry in his almond-shaped eyes.

“woah, what happened? did your brother eat your last sweet or something?”

“my boyfriend broke up with me.” you said weakly.

“oh, that rat lookalike?” he questioned, sitting down next to you, warmth in his tone.

that comment made you giggle a little. suna smiled.

“we were supposed to go on a date after like, two weeks and then he just said he was done and left!” you cried.

suna guided your head to the crook of his neck, letting you cry into his shoulder.

you stayed like that for a while.

suna couldn’t lie; he always thought you were cute. in the beginning, he thought it was some kind of brotherly love since he saw you nearly every day, when he went to your brother’s house, but it had evolved into something else, now that you two were in the same high-school.

—

your crying soon subsided, you were just resting your head on suna’s shoulder— his hand was still resting on the nape of your neck. the smell of his cologne was comforting, but at the same time it made you dizzy, the warm notes of vanilla and musk flooding your senses. slowly, you raised your head when you had finally mustered up the courage, looking into his eyes; suna’s heart sped up a little. he wiped a residual tear from your face with his thumb, his hand resting on the side of your face for a little longer than it should’ve.

“don’t waste your tears on him, pretty girl. he doesn’t deserve it.” he got up from the cold bench, now warm.

the side of your face was warm. you ghosted over his touch.

“come on. i know an arcade near here. if i win you a teddy, will you feel better?” he said, pulling you up from the bench.

you blushed a little. getting up after him, and the air didn’t feel nearly as piercing as it did before.

“don’t tell your brother,” suna added, grabbing hold of your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

note atlas my love my life this may be my favourite thing i’ve written so far 🩷🩷 this felt like night by alice munro on the igcse edexcel english spec (this is extremely niche im sorry)

[redrose10]

Hello, first of all I would like to start of by saying you are a phenomenal writer. Like I came across your account some time around 5 months back and I might have devoured eyes piece of writing there is to here. I love all the prompt requests you do, be it the snake hybrid Yoongi, or CEO ones or the classic jock trope you did. Loved them all. And especially the coffee shop AU you wrote about Yoongi was so damn good. Like edge of my seat till the end good. So thanks a lot for being that good and for choosing to share it with us.

also could I please request no.2 hybrid au for the au part and no.2 as well for the trope and 29 and 39 for prompts. And if it’s not too much to ask (could it be either of Seokjin, Jungkook or Namjoon)

THANKS A BUNCH and regards

Have a great day

Hi! Thank you so much for the kind words! I hope this is okay for you.

< Milk and Kookie>

Dog Hybrid Jungkook x Cat Hybrid Reader

Warnings: Mentions of injury/blood, mentions of bullying, theres a bet and being used, swearing

Hybrid, Enemies to lovers

#29 “There is more to the story than you’re telling me.”

#39 “That’s a new low for you.”

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

You first met Jeon Jungkook when you were both six years old. He was a wild rambunctious loud dog hybrid and you were the quiet calm patient cat hybrid. You had always thought he was annoying, but one day during snack time, he was rough housing with another dog hybrid named Taehyung and he knocked over your chocolate milk. It spilled all over the front of your favorite white dress. Even though he apologized and your mom was able to get the stain out, you could never bring yourself to get over it.

In the third grade you were supposed to have the lead role in the school play. You were super excited and practiced your lines over and over again. The day before the play you were walking in the hallway when you bumped into someone running by. Jungkook looked down at you with wide eyes and held out his hand to help you up while apologizing. You were agitated, but walked away not thinking much of it. The next morning you came down with a terrible stomach bug causing you to have to back out of the play. The next week at school you found out Jungkook had also been sick with very similar symptoms and while you couldn’t prove it, you were sure he was the one that passed on his germs to you when he helped you up in the hallway that day.

Then in the eighth grade you were telling your best friend how you had a huge crush on the new kid, another cat hybrid named Jimin. You were gushing on and on about how he had the prettiest eyes and his hair looked so soft. You knew that he was really into movies so you saved up all of your babysitting money to ask him if he wanted to hangout and go see a movie with you, your treat. You were walking out to the playground where Jimin was with his friends when a ball came flying at your head. You tried to duck, but was not quick enough and the ball smashed right into your face breaking your nose. You dropped to the ground and cried in pain as blood began to drip all over you. You could hear the familiar sound of Jungkook apologizing, but were too distracted by the teachers doting over you and the laughter that was radiating from Jimin and his friends as they pointed at you.

Something changed in the tenth grade though. You were paired up with Jungkook for your home economics class. You were learning how to make a cake from scratch. As you watched him crack the eggs and mix them in with the butter and sugar you noticed how much he had matured. He was quite a bit taller. His shoulders had widened and he’d definitely put on some muscle mass. His dark colored ears were peaking out of his brown hair as he was fully concentrated on mixing the cake while his long tail lazily hung behind him. He looked at you with a big toothy smile and round doe eyes. It was your turn to work on the frosting. You found yourself wondering if he’d always been that attractive.

You also noticed that he was more than annoying or loud. He was incredibly sweet and thoughtful. He was always buying lunch for the kids that couldn’t afford it. He started helping the librarian every day by putting away the books on the top shelf that she couldn’t reach because he didn’t want her standing on the step stool while she was so far along in her pregnancy. One day you failed a test you studied really hard for. He came and found you bringing you your favorite candy. He listened to you cry and he told you everything that was great about yourself so one little failed test shouldn’t matter. You walked home that day feeling much better than you had in a long time.

The two of you became quite good friends. And senior year was when you realized and fully accepted your crush. It was also the year you went through the most miserable embarrassing moment, all because of him.

When you got to school one morning there was a note in your locker,

“Meet me at our spot after school.-Kookie”

You smiled at the cute nickname you had started using for him. He acted like he hated it but got really offended any time you called him anything else. Your spot was behind the school next to a bunch of rose bushes. The two of you often found comfort there watching the flowers bloom as you talked.

You don’t know what you expected when you got to your spot. Deep down you were hoping, maybe expecting that he was going to ask you out. But it certainly wasn’t for Jungkook to be there with your bully, Mia. Her red lipstick staining his face while his hair had clearly been ruffled. It killed you inside that not only wasn’t he interested in you, but he had the audacity to trick you into meeting him so you could watch him make out with the one girl who made your life hell and it was in your spot on top of it.

Jungkook chased after you when he noticed you running away. He called. He texted. He showed up at your house. He followed you around school trying to get you to listen to him. It wasn’t until you threatened to report him to the principal for harassment that he finally backed off. You kicked yourself for ever falling for him and you began to once again hate Jeon Jungkook just like you had the day he spilled your milk.

College was great. You learned new things. Met new friends. Had a few dates. Things were really looking up.

Then a few months into your second year you decided to move off of campus and get yourself an apartment. The only problem being that rent was disgustingly expensive and there was no way you could afford it in your own. Thankfully your co-worker Namjoon, a wolf hybrid, let you know his roommate Jin had recently graduated and moved out so he had an open room, if you didn’t mind living with him and his other roommate. You thought about it for a few days but after some more searching you knew you’d never find a better option. Namjoon was nice and respectful. He seemed tidy enough and always smelled really nice. You didn’t see him as the possibly a murderer type so you agreed to move in.

And it was on a cool Autumn day when you found out that his other roommate was Jungkook.

“What are you doing here?”, he spat while glaring at you in the doorway. You never did understand why HE developed an attitude towards you. He was the one that intentionally hurt you a few years back. You were innocent.

“I’m moving in. What are YOU doing here?”, you questioned back.

“I live here.”

Great. Just absolutely perfectly great. You felt like you were going to be sick because you had already given up your dorm so you had nowhere else to go other than to live with Jungkook.

“I uh guess you two already know each other?”, Namjoon said carrying in the rest of your bags.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “Yeah something like that.”

It was like you could actually feel your blood boiling. You had no idea how or why he had the nerve to act like he wasn’t the reason things got so bad between you. Thankfully Namjoon had a good sense of of the situation and was able to separate you both giving everyone time to cool off.

Surprisingly it wasn’t as difficult to live under the same roof as Jungkook as you thought it would be. You two went to classes during the day. You worked your part time jobs in the evening. Other than Namjoon you had separate friends so hangouts were with different people. The very few times you crossed paths in the apartment you didn’t even make eye contact let alone speak to each other. It wasn’t that bad.

That all change in one night though. You were getting ready to go on your fourth date with another cat hybrid named Yoongi. He was a few years older, but he was very sweet and gentle and you enjoyed spending time with him.

You walked into the kitchen to get some water and saw Namjoon and Jungkook at the table.

“So meeting Yoongi again? The fourth date right?”, Namjoon said raising his eyebrows up and down.

“Don’t even start Joon. He’s not like that. He’s respectful and patient.”

You heard Jungkook scoff, but you chose to ignore it for your own sanity if anything.

“I don’t know Y/N. I feel like most guys, especially college guys are all the same. They only want one thing.”

“No Joon they’re not all like that. Especially not Yoongi.”

Jungkook once again scoffed and this time shook his head mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out.

“Do you have something to say Jungkook? Because if you do just spit it out already.”

He sat up straight like he was ready to say something, but then leaned back in his chair instead, “Nothing Y/N. Go on your date with YooNGi. See how that works out for you.”

“I will. I bet it’ll work out better than anything between you and me.”, you said throwing a glare his way before slamming the glass down and walking back to your room.

Yoongi: Hey I’m outside :)

You smiled at the message. You loved how he could calm you down so easily. You knew Namjoon had left for his shift, but you still tiptoed to the door hoping not to draw the attention of Jungkook. Unfortunately you weren’t so lucky because he was already waiting for you.

He walked to the door placing his hand on it to prevent you from opening it, “Y/N I know we don’t have a great history, but please don’t go on this date with him.”

“And why is that?”, you hissed trying to pry the door open but he was much stronger than you.

He hesitated, “Just…please Y/N just trust me.”

“Yeah okay. The last time I trusted you, you broke my heart by making sure I caught you kissing the girl who bullied me.”

“What?! I never kiss-“he tried to say but you put your hand up to stop him, “Save it. I don’t want to hear your bullshit excuse. I just want to go on a date with a guy I really like so if you would please…move…your…hand.” You tried pulling as hard as you could but it was useless. Your phone was vibrating in your bag and you knew it was Yoongi wondering where you were.

“Jungkook this is basically a hostage situation at this point so either let me go or I’ll have to call for help.”, you said not messing around any more.

Finally he stepped back, “Fine. Go on your date, but just know that he’s not the person you think he is and if you do go on this date you’re only going to end up hurt.”

His words caught you off guard a little.

“There is more to the story than you’re telling me.”, you said eyeing him up and down. He was looking everywhere around the room other than at you so you knew he had more to say but was nervous.

There was a knock at the door which you were surprised when Jungkook answered it because you both knew who it was.

“You okay?”, Yoongi asked when he saw you standing there.

“Yeah uh sorry my roommate had something to talk about.” You left ignoring the begging from Jungkook to let him explain.

When you returned later that night you walked into the kitchen jumping a little when you saw Jungkook sitting at the table in the dark. He had already prepared a glass of chocolate milk with extra chocolate syrup just like you liked it.

You broke down in tears all over again. He comforted you. You explained how in the middle of what you thought was a great date Yoongi got a text. He got really angry and slammed his phone down grumbling about how he hated loosing. When you questioned him he told you about the bet. A bet he had between him and his friend Hoseok. They both picked women who they thought were prudes and the first one to hookup won the bet. And Hoseoks girl gave in first. So since he didn’t care to be in your presence any more as you were useless to him now, he threw some cash down on the table to cover the bill and left you alone at the restaurant. You cried most of the way home and finally really broke down fully infront of Jungkook.

He sat there in silence, every once in a while encouraging you to take a sip of milk or reminding you to breathe.

“Di-Did you know about the bet?”, you whispered in between sobs.

He nodded while licking his lips.

“That’s a new low for you.”, you said shaking your head, “Why do you go out of your way to try and hurt me? Huh? Why Jungkook? What did I ever do to you?”

You could feel more tears coming on as he pulled you into his embrace. As much as you wanted to push him away you were exhausted and cold and he was warm and soft and smelled like comfort.

He took a deep breath, “Its not like that Y/N…well not completely. I heard Yoongi and Hobi talking in class one day. They said they were looking for a nice shy woman they could take on a date. I told them about you. I just wanted you to find someone that made you happy. At the time I didn’t know what their true intentions were. Then yesterday in class I heard them talking about the bet. Hobi said his girl had been all over him last time so he thought he was going to win. Yoongi was clearly irritated and said something about you being even harder to fuck than he thought. I wanted to punch him right there. That’s why I was trying to get you to skip the date tonight. I’m sorry Y/N. I’ve never tried to intentionally hurt you.”

“Yeah…that’s why you purposely asked me to meet at our spot just so I could catch you kissing Mia.”, you said feeling your anger bubbling again.

“Mia? Mia…ooohhhhh high school Mia?”

“Yep…I got your note about meeting at our spot after school. I thought maybe you liked me back…maybe you were gonna ask me out. But boy was I wrong. I saw you standing there with her lipstick all over your face…I guess I was dumb for thinking you liked me anyways.”

He ran his hands through his hair and he turned to look at you, “Is that why you ignored me all this time?”

“Of course it is Jungkook!! Do you know how much that hurt? And it was worse that you did it on purpose. It would’ve been one thing to accidentally catch you, but you purposely set me up.” You could feel another round of tears coming on. Quickly you tried to get up to leave but he grabbed your arm and pulled you back down. His ears were laid so far back down into his hair the that you could barely see them.

“Y/N…I…I didn’t kiss Mia that day. I know that’s what it looked like, but it’s not what happened. She overheard me asking someone for ideas on how to ask you out. She offered to help. She said she would handle it and that I should just show up. I thought she was just being nice…maybe she wanted to make it up to you for all the bullying or something. I had flowers and a little speech prepared and everything. I was so nervous. We were waiting for you. I asked her if my hair looked okay and she went to fix it a little and then she just…she kissed me. I pushed her away, but you’d already seen it. I chased after you. I tried for weeks to explain but you wouldn’t let me.”

“Wait so you really were going to ask me out?”

He smiled to himself, “Yeah I’ve liked you for a long time. Like since we were little kids. I just couldn’t ever seem to not screw things up with you.”

“What do you mean?”, you questioned.

“Like every time I try to help you I end up making it worse. I was trying to stop Taehyung from bumping into you but instead I knocked your milk all over your dress. There was that time I kicked the ball and broke your nose. I just wanted to get your attention to distract you from asking Jimin out because I knew he was going to reject you but I missed my kick. Or when I got you sick before the play. I had heard your understudy say she was going to trip you on the stairs so that she could take your part. I was going to tell the teacher when I ran into you. It’s just like we were never meant to be.”, he laughed feeling sorry for himself

“Well…I mean we are a cat and dog so it kind of makes sense.”, you smiled before resting your head on his shoulder. You chuckled when he quickly grabbed his tail to hide the fact it was beginning to wag in excitement. Just from his hands you could tell he was blushing and you knew your cheeks were heating up too.

“I’m sorry your date didn’t end well.”, he spoke after a few moments.

“That’s okay. It’s for the better I guess. There’s someone else I’d rather be out on a date with anyways.”

“Oh.”, he pouted, “Well I hope he treats you better than the last one.”

“Oh my god Kookie…it’s you! I’d rather be on a date with you!”

His eyes widened at the realization and his tail began to furiously wag even in his hold to try and stop it before he tried to play it cool, “Oh yeah okay. I totally knew that.”, he said, “Want to go to that diner for a late night date?”

“Will you buy me a chocolate milk?”, you playfully asked already putting on your jacket.

He held his hand out for you to grab and began leading you down the hall, “Of course, I’ll even throw in some pancakes too if you want.”

“We’ll see…I’m more of a cookie with my milk kind of cat.”

[damnfandomproblems]

Agreed with most of #6472 until the race, mental disability and height thing.

1. As a POC woman, just do your research if you're making a POC character. I'm not personally offended, but I don't speak for everyone.

2. As someone with autism and anxiety; DO YOUR RESEARCH. PLEASE. Like as long as the portrayal is accurate and research was done, I think a lot of disabled people would appreciate representation but idk. I dont speak for everyone.

3. SHORT PEOPLE EXIST. JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE IS SHORT, IT DOES NOT MEAN THEY ARE A MINOR OR "MINOR CODED" HEIGHT DIFFERENCES SHOULD NOT BE AN ICK.

I think the last three could be rage bait, but idk. Just my opinion.

Posting as a response to a previous problem.

Going to include a few more responses to the same problem below:

Anon:

...is this a parody?

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Anon:

"If your ocs looks young, they are a child." I am 25, last week someone asked me if I was in high school. Some of us just look young idk what to tell you.

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Anon:

Bait used to be believable

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@theofficialkai517:

I'm not a regular OC maker, but I feel like there will be some mixed-bag responses. But in most cases that I've seen "actual [way older than teenager] looks to be way younger than they are" has been a canon thing, not an OC thing. Aang from Avatar and Elena from Elena of Avalor instantly come to mind. It's not just teenage-appearing characters, either, there are several adult characters that don't appear to age past their 30s despite being millenia old, or can change their age and appearance almost as they please. The gods from Percy Jackson (though some of them may not be the best examples to prove a point against you, LOL), many dragons from fantasy & sci-fi novels, vampires, so many different archetypes... I am not standing for or against this-- though the specific ones that I mentioned were trapped at their ages and don't remember much of anything during their times of not aging, and I do ship them both with teenagers they are friends with in their shows; and the archetypes/character designs I listed... Is a mixed bag, to be fair-- but it's not just about OCs, and you can't fault OC designers for following a pattern that has been their for a long long time, whether or not that character has a romantic bond with another character, or has friends who are all the age that the character appears to be.

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Anon:

what the hell does that mean, anyone 5'7 or under is minor-coded and shouldn't be shipped?! lots of adults, females especially (and including myself) aren't anywhere close to that height in real life. and it's okay to ship minors with other minors; there are millions of high-school love stories out there. besides, are we supposed to know a character's height right off the top of our fucking head or something? even if it's an oc. like, most of my ocs if i ever were to create more would probably be closer to my height because that's what i find "normal," or i just want somebody to dump all of my struggles on. it's literally not pedophilia to ship fix-it felix and calhoun together (first ship to come to mind, sorry), despite him being very very short. not much of this shit even happens with ocs, i've seen most of what you're bringing up in the media that's actually put in front of us.

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Anon:

re 6472, specifically this line: "Anyone under 5'7" is minor coded and shouldn't be shipped." What the metric fuck are you smoking? I swear I'm gonna short-circuit.

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Anon:

Okay, so many things. And I am sure others have probably brought this up too, but hey.

The "1000 year old dragon/immortal being with the body of a child trope" isn't just used by fans and makers of OCs. It is often a "trope" used by creators themselves; if it makes you look like a creep/has inherently pedophilic tones/only creeps are okay with this kind of thing, then call me a fucking creep. So many wonderful medias have characters who are older than they look, even going to J.M. Barrie with Peter Pan. Not many people seem to mind that they don't know how chronologically old Peter is, they just find whimsy in the fact that he will never grow up. The same goes for Avatar: the Last Airbender's titular character, Aang, who is chronologically 112 but has the appearance and mannerisms of a 12-year-old. It is meant to portray his redemption and his friends' hope, not to be creepy or pedophilic.

I can't quite help you there. There are some executions of that trope that work, and some that don't. But please know that most of this was perpetuated by actual creators and authors than us fans and our OCs. If you want to raise a fuss, try and go to Stephanie Meyers first before pointing your finger in our faces.

"if your ocs looks young, they are a child [...] it is simpler that way. You do not need to overcomplicate your ocs." First off... Completely false. I cannot be the only person who still looks 14 but is actually far older than that... If it happens in real life, it can happen in fiction and with OCs. We are not children, those characters are not children. It is not "overcomplicating" an OC. Besides, some people don't want simple with their OCs, they are putting their hearts and souls into them and just having fun.

Nobody should have to ask "approval" to write a character that is a different race than them. Yes, it can end disastrously... But it also couldn't. If people had to ask approval to write a character who is Latino or black or East Asian when the writer is white, or any other variation of one race creating a character of another, there would never be any diversity in anything ever.

There was need for you to elaborate on that. Some of the best ADHD/autism representation I have seen in characters has come from neurotypicals. I have a loved one who has never had anxiety or depression before but can spot-on name most of the signs and symptoms just from watching me live through it. As long as you're not adding harmful traits to one mental disability or another, I have no reason to be offended. Maybe just try and do your research, but even then, nobody is allowed to police you. Again, nobody should have to ask approval or be worried that they're not writing a character good. Also, it's easy for signs of one mental disability or other to slip through in a character without it being openly stated. Sometimes things happen unintentionally, it was never meant as a slight towards someone who has the mental disability strongly hinted at.

"Short characters are basically minors"... Ex-fucking-scuse me? What the fuck? "Anyone under 5'7" is minor coded and shouldn't be shipped"... Just stop. Stop it right here. 5'7" is a major ask, especially in a fictional world where heights often aren't known to viewers/readers, and your OC can be whatever height you wish on them. It's a major ask even in the real world. Because why the fuck are only tall people allowed to be shipped? When hobbits exist, dwarves exist, elves (like, Christmas elves) exist... Some fictional species aren't designed to grow taller than, like, 4'10", let alone 8 inches taller than that. Half of the females I went to school with didn't make it past that height; it is unreasonable to tell people that they cannot create characters to be shorter than a certain height if they want to be able to ship them.

Sorry for the long rambles, but most of that was BS and needed to be called. Yes, there is room for a lot of moral ambiguity when it comes to characters who are coded one way or another... Especially when it comes to age/immortality/disguising oneself as another age/etc. But if someone is doing any of these things and it drives you nuts, either block/mute/ignore them or, in the cases of 4 and 5, maybe gently message them with "hey... I wanted to let you know that I have/am [insert mental disability or race here] and that [character] doesn't quite match up to what they're supposed to be. Can I offer you some guidance in writing them?" and if they say no... Just leave it be. This is fandom, not politics.

[kalisseo]

in the redo au, instead of dating cleo, frida dates lacy!! an ada lovelace fanclone, girlfailure yuri ❤️

so I've talked about frida already so I'm gonna talk a little bit about lacy

lacy is a gen 2 clone, she and frida share some classes but never really talked, until frida started to have more problems in her friendship with harriet, they get randomly paired up for a school project and discover they have similar experiences

just like frida, lacy is a loner or maybe even an outcast, that doesn't mean she's quiet like Frida, she's more energetic and likes to talk a lot, she's into anime and videogames, and knows a little bit about coding, mainly html because she has A LOOT of blogs that likes to personalize

she's a fan girl too, and since she's into anime and manga she's into bl/yaoi too and calls herself a fujoshi

she also ships random couples at school like tophabe and jfkonfucius (and she gives them horrible ship names...like abepher and kennedius....)

because of this people think she's weird and annoying, and it doesn't help that she doesn't have the best hygiene sometimessss.....

and lacy knows people think she's annoying, but she prefers to be her true self, that doesn't mean it doesn't affect her, and she dreams about being a popular rebellious cool girl

her first design is the one where she has a hoodie, it changes because she gets a mekover and becomes popular for a week, but she gets overwhelmed blah blah popular people don't actually get her blah blah Frida is the only one that gets her and learns that she actually prefers being with her few friends that love her for who she is

she still keeps her alt style, I can't really describe her style because like frida she just wears whatever her parents buy her, but she loves black, red, purple, tank tops, fishnets,skirts, messy hair and makeup and spiky collars!! i guess she leans into a mall goth/scene style?

i know her being popular for a day is a kinda dumb idea but that's the thing about, she's not really supposed to be a parody character but I want her to be a fun character, i already have too much angst lol

anywho her and frida embrace their weirdness and bring losers together and they love each other for who they really are, lacy struggles with not being good enough for being an ada Lovelace clone so she tries to be her own person, so frida accepting her means a lot to her

anywho their shipname is lovekahlo... and that's all I hope whoever reads this likes her...

[snazzi-strawberri]

The longer the days I go where I don't talk or interact with my friends the more I feel the rot and decay taking over me !! 😁😁

[noxious-fennec]

Snapshots of simpler times..

[actualjenna]

some pages from my comic HELLO, SOUPHEAD. which will be sold at the Massachusetts Independent Comic Expo this weekend!! if you have the chance to go, perhaps pick up a copy! if not, i might release it online sometime soon 👁

[lemmylemons]

Losing my shit I wish my parents would give a fuck about my health

[curiosity-killed]

i love my sister and for the most part, we are very close and genuinely like each other a lot but the one place where i'd just really, really, really like to see inside her brain is the part where she is still incredibly comfortable and cheerful—and even thinks it's really funny—talking about how much she didn't like me as a child while I'm like. yes. I am and was aware. and it sucked so so so much

[edwinisms]

literally I have not written this much in the span of a couple weeks since like. mid high school. so around 7-8 years ago. what has this show done to me

[howtobeamagicalgirl]

I am having such wonderful breakfasts these days