#but the kids who struggle with math? this does NOT help them

[gil-estel]

wow I wonder what could have happened around 2013 to cause this

[awearywritersworld]

megumi's teacher — gojo satoru x reader

tags/warnings: fluff. fem!reader. gojo beefing with an eight year old. 700 words.

ever since megumi started the second grade, it's been (l/n)-sensei this. (l/n)-sensei that.

gojo picks up megumi's favorite ice cream, only to be scolded by the young boy. "(l/n)-sensei's favorite flavor is strawberry, so that's my favorite now!"

gojo tries to help him with his math homework, and it's "(l/n)-sensei did it this way. that means you should too!"

gojo reaches down to tie megumi's shoes for him, before his hand is promptly smacked away. "(l/n)-sensei said big boys tie their own shoes!"

honestly, gojo is starting to feel a little jealous. megumi's known you for what? two months?

he's been raising megumi for the past few years, but does that earn him an ounce of the adoration the young boy seems to have for you?

apparently not, though he perseveres nonetheless.

he and megumi are spending the afternoon out in the city and they stop at a small bakery for lunch.

while megumi is distracted looking at all the sweets behind the glass counter, the bell on the door draws gojo's attention.

his eyes fall upon a pretty young woman. actually, you might just be the prettiest woman he's ever seen.

and of course, a smirk forms on his lips when he catches you looking his way. he's puffing out his chest, running a hand through his hair.

he's always had a certain effect on the ladies, and he's never been more happy about that until this very moment—

"megumi?" you call from a few feet away. the wide smile adorning your face makes you look even more radiant.

while gojo visibly deflates, megumi's head whips around at the speed of light. "(l/n)-sensei!"

oh.

gojo very quickly comes to understand why the boy is so enamored by you.

megumi launches himself at you, while you crouch to meet him with open arms.

"i'm so happy to see you!" he practically sings, clinging to your neck.

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "i'm happy to see you too, 'gumi."

gojo clears his throat, hoping that megumi will take the chance to introduce you two, but he is completely ignored.

"what are you going to get? i'll buy it for you," he states proudly, despite having zero money of his own.

your gaze shifts to gojo for the first time, and having your attention even just for a brief moment takes his breath away.

"that's very sweet megumi, but that's alright." you ruffle his hair when he pouts at your words, standing back up. "who's this?"

"oh that's just gojo. don't worry about him," he states with a wave of his hand.

the white haired man gawks at him in response. the nerve on that kid! he silently decides megumi will be losing dessert privileges for a week. no, two.

you stifle a giggle before offering your hand to him and introducing yourself as megumi's teacher.

he repeats your name, taking satisfaction in the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.

"that's a pretty name," he compliments, trying to recover from megumi's dismissal. "heard a lot about you. in fact, the kid never shuts up about you."

this earns him a glare from megumi, but gojo is too preoccupied with the shy look that crosses your features to notice.

gojo insists on paying for your order, a show of appreciation for taking such good care of megumi in class. you chat with the pair of them for a little while longer before eventually excusing yourself.

"thank you again, gojo-san. i'll see you on monday, megumi!"

just as you're turning on your heel, gojo calls your name and you look back at him expectantly.

"when, uh," he struggles, scratching the back of his neck. "when do i get to see you?"

nice.

"oh! well, parent-teacher conferences are only a few weeks away! i'll look forward to seeing you then," you answer sweetly, misunderstanding the meaning behind his words.

you bid them goodbye once more and they both watch your figure disappear down the street.

megumi turns to look at gojo smugly. "weeks? that sounds like a really long time—"

"shut it, kid."

[what-even-is-thiss]

Ways you can volunteer when you have social anxiety

Hi, I know some of you feel motivated to organize and volunteer with the recent everything but as someone with an anxiety disorder I know the struggle. I’ve been volunteering sporadically since I was a teen and not all of it requires face to face to contact with the public. Here’s some ideas to get you started.

Cooking in kitchens and food pantries/volunteering to cook at places that have daily or weekly free or reduced cost meals like food not bombs, soup kitchens, summer or winter food trucks for low income k-12 students, religious community kitchens like at church gatherings or a Sikh langar.

Making clothing or blankets. Domestic violence shelters are often in need of these for both adults and kids. Organizations that work with foster kids are often also in need of clothing and blankets.

Contacting vendors: If you’re bad at talking to people but good at writing emails a lot of groups are in need of supplies.

Unloading trucks at stuff like food pantries and clothing drives. If possible you can request to be put in the back room or work on setup.

Just show up at the protest. Sometimes you can just stand there and be another body in the back of the crowd. That’s what I’ve done at every protest I’ve ever been in. Wear a face mask and a hat if you don’t want to be recognized. You’re sending a message just by being there.

House repair and garden planting. A lot of organizations that do this stuff will train you.

Write letters to prisoners. There’s a lot of organizations that let you do this but they’re usually specific to a local area. When I lived in Texas there was an organization that connected some classmates and I to a group of people in the local men’s prison who wanted to do a book club so we did a long distance book club with them for a few months.

After school tutoring, babysitting, religious or other types of classes for kids, etc. Some folks feel less anxious around kids and there’s plenty of opportunities to volunteer in both secular and religious capacities. You can tutor, babysit, help run classes, stuff like that. There’s also a lot of opportunities to work with foster kids without being a foster parent if that’s something you’re passionate about.

Counting money. Organizations get donations and those donations often come in the form of cash. This is the primary form of volunteer work my grandmother does for her church and some local charities. It’s a good choice if you’re someone who can’t stand for long periods of time and you’re good at basic math.

Donate blood. Yes this counts as volunteer work.

[irisintheafterglow]

[bernie sanders voice] i am once again.. thinking about coparenting megumi with boyfriend!satoru.

"so you're both megumi's..."

"guardians," you smile politely, praying stupid shit doesn't leave the mouth of the boy next to you. it's wishful thinking.

"yes," he beams so tenderly that you resist the urge to scrunch your nose in disgust. he takes your clammy hand lightly in his and turns back to megumi's teacher. "we had him young." a soft ow comes from under satoru's breath as you kick him under the table, forcing an expression of normalcy onto your face.

you hated parent-teacher conferences because it reminded you just how abnormal megumi and tsumiki's situation was. they had no parents, nor did they have any close relatives that cared for them the way a family should. that left you and the white-haired idiot in the tiny seat next to you to fill in that duty, and between missions and training students, you weren't around as often as you wanted to be.

"i...see," the teacher says hesitantly, eyeing your boyfriend with obvious unease. after a moment, she regains her composure and refocuses on you completely. "is there anything you wish to discuss before we begin?"

"not for me, no."

"when can we get him bumped up a grade? or have him skip one altogether?" every single word that comes from satoru's mouth is a joke but it still has your face burning with embarrassment that you were associated with him. "you know, i skipped a few grades when i was young."

"i can tell," you whisper and he pinches the flesh of your thigh between two fingers in defiance.

"i believe that skipping grades would be unwise at this time, as we haven't done any testing yet-"

"he was kidding, i swear," you say apologetically and, thankfully, the teacher continues as if on a script.

"i see. well, megumi is progressing wonderfully in the class. he's very adept at reading and writing, but he does struggle with math sometimes. it's nothing to be worried about; many children struggle with math at his age." you nod in understanding but grimace inwardly. megs always wanted you to help him with math homework since satoru became frustrated with the problems faster than the actual 2nd grader.

"for being the strongest, he's not that smart," megumi stated bluntly one night while you helped him on a coffee table in the teacher's lounge. you'd sent satoru on a walk around campus after his distress was clearly bothering megumi, who ended up suffering more from satoru's "help" than benefiting. "you're not around that much anymore to help me so i don't know what to do." his tiny eyebrows furrow and you reach out to run your fingers through his spiky black hair.

"i'm really sorry i'm not around as much anymore. do you want me to ask nanami? he handles math all the time."

"i think that'd be worse than satoru."

"you can't get much worse than satoru, buddy," you concede and his mouth turns up a little bit. nothing like a little insulting his mentor to get the boy's mood improved. still, his frown returns like it's his default expression.

"what if i can't do it? what if i'm not like everyone else?" it made your chest ache in a different way when megumi or his sister said something like that, like they were well aware that they weren't normal children. your heart panged for them and mourned their loss of a "normal" childhood just because they were born into a big three clan. it wasn't fair and it was something you lamented to satoru almost every week. you couldn't tell the boy any of that, though, no matter how much you wanted to explain why he wasn't like the rest of the kids in his class.

"just try your best, okay? sometimes, that's all we can do. you're already doing great by asking for help. it's not your fault if someone doesn't know how to help you, so just keep trying." he nodded determinedly; after another hour past dinnertime, you finally finished walking him through the rest of the problems while satoru draped his lanky body over the couch behind you, watching defeatedly over your shoulder.

"is there anything we can do to help him with math?" you ask, unconsciously weaving your fingers with satoru's and giving it a light squeeze. he squeezes back three times. i-love-you.

"he just needs a little reassurance that he's on the right track sometimes."

"mmm, don't we all," you murmur and you don't expect the teacher to laugh softly under her breath, muttering her agreement. before you know it, you've organized megumi's papers into his folder and picked him up from the playground outside his classroom, taking his hand as you walk back to the car.

"your teacher says you're doing well in class."

"really?"

"mhmm, though i didn't need her to tell me that since i already know." you shoot him a small smile, leaning into satoru's body as his arm wraps around your torso. "you, however, need to learn some manners," you lightheartedly tease, knocking your elbow against his abs. "you were not helping in there, you menace."

"it was boring, what do you want me to do?" his tone is so carefree, so comfortingly satoru it made your heart melt.

"it's a parent-teacher conference, not parents. you could have waited outside if you were so bored. went to play on the playground or something." his head dips close to your ear and you feel some strands of his hair brush against your skin.

"but then i don't get to watch you be all mature and put-together."

"trying to follow my example?"

"trying to break your composure," he corrects with a sly grin. "i'm the fun one, after all."

"that's one way to put it," megumi deadpans without hesitation and you stifle a snort.

"i'm one of a kind!"

"you're out of your mind, is what you are." before he can protest, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns a slightly opaquer shade of pink. "but i wouldn't have you any other way."

[fallinforgyu]

steamroller

pairing: mingi/fem!reader

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, college au, angst, smut - minors do NOT interact

warnings: no dom/sub dynamic, unrequited love, mutual loss of virginity, mingi has a massive cock, fingering, oral sex (f. recieving)

word count: 10k

a/n: i want to be honest with you guys, this is not a comeback. this is just a little fic that i’ve been working on for the past year or so that has brought me a lot of comfort, and i hope that it can do the same for you. i’m not sure if i’ll ever be active on this blog like i used to be, but please know that i will always be a writer and i will always read every single comment, reblog, and note that is sent to me. thank you for being my readers. i love you all so so dearly <3

“Hey, Mingi,” Yunho asked, staring at his distorted reflection in the back of a flimsy dining hall spoon, “Have you ever eaten a girl out before?”

 “W-What the fuck?” Mingi choked on his homemade sandwich. “Why would you ask me that?”

 “Because I want to go down on my girl on our next date…” he dropped the spoon on his tray, frowning as it clanged. “We’ve already fucked but I think it’ll be a nice way to show her I really care, you know? But I’ve never done it before.”

 “Wait-” Mingi dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning forward across the table. “You’ve had sex before?” 

 “You haven’t?” Yunho grinned.

 “Of course I haven’t, asshole! Why didn’t you tell me?”

 Yunho shrugged. “Guess I just didn’t think it was that important. What time’s your next class?” 

 “I’m done with classes for the day,” Mingi crumbled the tin foil that previously held his sandwich into a ball. “Yours is at 2:30, right?” 

 The older boy nodded and the two stood up, making their way to the nearest trash can.

 “Besides,” Yunho placed his tray on top of a growing stack of them while Mingi threw away his brown paper bag. “I thought you would’ve already fucked that girl you’re always with by now. What was her name again?”

 Mingi’s eyes widened as your name slipped past Yunho’s lips. “Sh!” he hissed, looking over his shoulder. “I told you to stop asking about her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

 “But you haven’t even tried!”

 “Yes, I have!”

 “Giving her a warm Tootsie Roll that had been sitting in your pocket all day does not count as trying.”

 “But I gave it to her on Valentine’s Day!” Mingi whined. “That counts for something, right?”

 He reluctantly met Yunho’s eyes, groaning when he saw his friend’s lips pressed into a thin line and his head shaking. 

 “You’ve gotta just tell her, dude. You’re never gonna know if you don’t try.” 

 He knew Yunho was right. If he ever wanted anything to change, he’d have to talk to you. Otherwise, he’d spend his entire life wondering what would’ve happened if he would’ve just had the balls to tell you. 

 He’d do it today, he decided, when he met you at your usual spot to walk back to your dorms together. That way, he could just run home if you said you didn’t feel the same way! Perfect plan. 

Mingi wiped his hands on his pants as he walked to your usual meeting spot, attempting to calm himself down and hype himself up at the same time. 

 He was really going to do it now; he was going to spill his heart out and hope that you somehow ended up in his arms. He’d start with how he’d loved you since you were kids when you took swim lessons with him at the community pool. You jumped right in the water when he was too afraid to duck his head underneath, and he remembered wanting to be brave like you. He loved you in middle school when you noticed him struggling with his math homework and offered to help. He loved you when you introduced him to Yunho, your friend from the student council who would end up becoming his best friend. And he loved you two years later, when he read your summer reading book aloud to you because staring at the pages made you sleepy. 

 He loved you last year when you went to prom together, even when you made a point of announcing to the rest of your group that the two of you were “Just really good friends.”

 Oh, well. He loved you when he gave you that Tootsie Roll three months ago, too.

 And he loved you now, when he approached you slowly and timidly, waving his hand to get you to look up from your phone.

 “Oh, hi,” you grinned, pulling the earbuds out of your ears.

 “Hi,” he smiled. 

 “How was… how was your day?” You asked the same question you always asked when you saw him, but it sounded different this time. It was like an exhale; Like you were breathing the words instead of speaking them. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought you were nervous. 

 “Good,” he nodded, gripping the straps of his backpack.

 “Good!” You repeated, clasping your hands together. “So…”

 He braced himself to say it. I’m in love with you. I have been ever since we were kids. I don’t want to be your friend, I want to kiss you.

 But you spoke first, and you said, “I think we should have sex.”

 He thought that he was having a stroke. He thought that you were having a stroke. “W-what did you say?”

 “Hear me out,” you waved your hands and closed your eyes. “We’re the last virgins in our friend group, right? And everyone thinks we’ve already fucked, anyway. So we could just do it together and get it over with so that it’s not as big of a deal when we do it with other people!”

 “I don’t…” His face felt like it was on fire. His stomach burned, and his palms were even sweatier than before. Get it over with?

 You sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped that on you so fast. I’ve just been thinking about it for a few weeks now, and…”

 Your voice turned into a murmur in the back of his mind as he analyzed your words. Been thinking about it for weeks now? Thinking about…

 “But you don’t have to decide now, okay? I just wanted to see if you would be up for it.”

 He slowly blinked and nodded back like an idiot. “O-okay. Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

 You nudged his shoulder with yours as you stood up to walk home with him, down the streets of the campus that had been home to you for the past nine months. “And there’s no pressure, alright? You can say I’m gross and you see me like a sister and I won’t be mad,” you laughed.

 You’re beautiful. I want you to be my girlfriend.

 “I’ll think about it,” he repeated.

 “Cool,” you nodded. “How’d that stats test go?”

You felt sick when you tried to go to sleep that night, nauseated with the thought that you might’ve just ruined everything. 

 You didn’t mean for it to come out so fast. You didn’t mean to make him embarrassed. You only meant to present the idea to him; a sort of business proposal that would benefit the both of you before you went back home for the summer.

 None of your friends were virgins anymore. Only you and Mingi were left, and you’d known each other the longest, anyway. 

 You turned in bed to stare at the pictures of the two of you taped to the collage on your wall. He stood next to you in a cheap rental tuxedo at prom, his mouth pulled into a gummy smile and his arm linked with yours. In another picture, he stood three inches away from you at your middle school graduation, a reminder of the awkward phase the two of you went through when you realized that he was a boy and you were a girl. 

 But there were pictures from before that time, too, like the one of the two of you covered in nasty, artificially-colored green frosting from the cake at Mingi’s Incredible Hulk-themed birthday party in 2005. Or the two of you dressed up as Cosmo and Wanda from Fairly Odd Parents for Halloween in fourth grade. 

 Your oldest friend. The person who’d seen you through every phase of your life – even your emo phase in seventh grade – and stuck by you nonetheless. 

 You thought of his full lips and his broad shoulders, his big hands. He was handsome, there was absolutely no arguing that, but he was also kind and gentle and sweet. He was always the first to notice when something was wrong and the last to believe you when you told him you were fine. 

 Being his lover would be amazing, but not if it meant you couldn’t be his friend anymore. You wouldn’t fall unless he asked you to because losing him wasn’t an option.

 You’d tell him tomorrow to forget it. That it was stupid, and you changed your mind. 

Mingi told Yunho about it at lunch the next day. 

 “She talked to me yesterday,” he mumbled, picking the peel off of a clementine.

 “And? What’d she say?” Yunho leaned forward, anticipating Mingi’s answer.

 “She wants to fuck me.”

 Yunho let out a laugh of disbelief. “Don’t play with me right now.”

 “She does! She said, and I quote, ‘I think we should have sex.’”

 “Well,” Yunho chuffed, “There you go, buddy! I told you all you had to do was talk to her!”

 Mingi knew he didn’t really talk to you. He knew he just listened (well, half-listened, half daydreamed about what losing his virginity to you would be like) while you gabbed on about how it was a win-win situation.

 But Yunho seemed so happy… No, proud of him. His validation made Mingi feel good – like this was the right decision.

 “So, when are you going to do it?” Yunho squeezed a gluttonous amount of ketchup on his dry chicken patty.

 Mingi stared at his Ziploc bag of slightly brown apple slices. “Well… I haven’t really told her I’d do it yet.” 

 “What? Why not?”

 “I just didn’t know if it was right…”

 “The girl that you’ve been in love with since you were a kid wants to give you her virginity and take yours at the same time, and you don’t know if it’s right?”

 Mingi smiled. “Yeah… I know.”

 “Tell her today. I bet you’ll do it before you go home for the summer if you tell her today.”

 “Okay, yeah.” Mingi nodded, feeling more sure of himself. “I’ll tell her today.”

You had headphones in when you waited for Mingi after school, but you weren’t listening to any music. There was already too much buzzing around in your head, and music would only overwhelm you even more.

 You chewed on your nailbeds and rehearsed your script in your head. Hey, I was way off base yesterday. That was weird and I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. Let’s just pretend it never happened and enjoy the summer, okay?

 You saw his sneakers first. They were clean, exactly how they looked when he bought them four months ago. 

 He was smiling when you looked up.

 “Let’s do it.”

 “Wait… really?” You tilted your head to the side, trying not to stare at his lips.

 “Yeah. You were right, it just makes sense for us to do it together.” His cheeks were pink.

 You slowly nodded, trying to convince yourself that it was a good idea again. “Right. Yeah… yeah, it makes sense.” You clapped your hands together. “Well! It’s settled then! Is Yunho leaving town anytime soon?”

 “I don’t… I don’t think so?” 

 You stood up to begin your walk home, and Mingi followed suit.

 “Well,” you sighed. “My roommates are probably home, but we should be fine if we’re quiet.”

 Mingi stumbled a bit as he walked. “Wait, we’re doing this right now? Like, literally right now?”

 “No!” you turned your head towards him as you spoke, but you didn’t look him in the eye. “But don’t you think we should do other stuff first? And like… work up to the big thing?”

 “Other stuff?”

 “Just to warm us up. You know, so it won’t be as scary when we…” You pictured Mingi naked and on top of you, his eyebrows furrowed and his pretty lips parted in a moan. You cleared your throat. “You know.”

 “O-okay,” he nodded. “Okay, yeah.”

 Mingi sat on your bed with his hands tucked underneath his thighs to hide how badly they were shaking. He looked around the room, jealous of your full-size bed. He and Yunho were in a shared room dorm, and his feet always hung off the end of his twin mattress. 

 Meanwhile, you scrolled through your phone to find a good playlist. You hit shuffle on the first one that suited your taste and a familiar song tumbled out of your cheap Bluetooth speaker.

 “You’ve kissed someone before, right?” You put your phone on your desk and walked to your bed.

 “Yes,” he nodded. 

 You narrowed your eyes at him. “Who?”

 He squirmed, adjusting his hands under his thighs. “My lab partner in ninth grade. She felt me up under the bleachers.” I was thinking about you the whole time, his internal monologue chimed in, the words never making it past his lips.

 “Gross,” you laughed, sitting on your bed. “Just let me lead, okay? Try to mirror what I do.”

 You reached up to hold his jaw, and his entire body stiffened.

 “Hey.” You waved your hand in front of his face. “Don’t be nervous, Ming. It’s just me. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want t–”

 “I want to!” He interrupted. “Please. I really want to. I’m just nervous.”

 You rested both your hands on his shoulders. “It’s just me,” you repeated. “The same me that I’ve always been.”

 Yeah, he thought, that’s the problem.

 “Just follow my lead.” You gave him an encouraging smile, which he weakly returned. “It’ll be fun, okay?”

 Mingi nodded, closed his eyes, and held his breath. A few seconds later, he felt your lips against his, and they were even softer than he imagined. He was sure that his were chapped, and he regretted not wearing lip balm more often like his mom always told him to.

 “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

 He opened his eyes at the sound of your voice and gave you a tiny shake of his head.

 “Do you want another one?” You smiled. 

 “Yes, please,” he whispered.

 You kissed him again, a little bit longer this time. Your lips naturally slotted with his, and butterflies filled his tummy when you rested your hand on his thigh.

 And then your lips parted. He wasn’t sure what to do other than follow your lead like you’d told him to, so he let his lips part, as well.

 His breath caught in his throat when your hand slid down to his neck. He barely had time to recover before you slipped your tongue in his mouth, playful and teasing and light. 

 “O-oh,” he breathed, a shiver running through his body.

 “How was that?” 

 “Good. I liked… I liked the part when you used your tongue.”

 “Shut up,” you laughed. “You wanna… keep going?”

 “Yes,” he nodded.

 And that was how Mingi had his first makeout session with his childhood best friend. He tried to keep his whimpers to a minimum, but it was hard to when your kisses progressively got more heated. Your tongue in his mouth was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and he blushed at your giggle when he tried to mirror your movements.

 “Such a fast learner, Ming.”

 “T-thanks…”

 “You know you can touch me, right? You don’t have to sit on your hands.”

 He looked down, completely unaware that his hands were still tucked underneath his thighs. They were both numb now, and they tingled when he pulled them up. He flexed and relaxed them to get his blood flowing again.

 “I’ve never…” he whispered, “I’m sorry. I don’t- I don’t know where to touch.”

 You gave him a smile laced with what might have been pity and took his big hand in yours, moving it to rest on your hip.

 “What about the other one?” He whispered, even quieter than before.

 And then you were lifting his other hand and placing it on your cheek. His breath caught in his throat again.

 It’s strange to truly look at someone whose face has always been a constant in your life. You looked different, but also the same. People change, but they don’t. 

 Mingi was sure of one thing: your face was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He liked it ten years ago, and he liked it now.

 He kissed you first the next time. And since he’d gotten a little more confident, he let his lips part and used his tongue first, too. He kept his hands where you’d placed them and you kept yours around his neck. You kissed and kissed and kissed, and for now, that was enough.

It didn’t stay enough for long. You and Mingi practically ran to your dorm after school every day, barely taking time to breathe before attaching your mouths together once your door was shut. Your obsession with Mingi’s lips had only grown since you started spending most of your free time kissing them.

 His hands were nice, too. They’d gotten a little bit more curious since that day, sometimes giving your hip a gentle squeeze or moving up to your waist while he kissed you. Any noise you’d make would immediately be met with a “sorry” – a constant reminder that no matter how attractive the boy you were making out with was, he was still just the same old Mingi.

 And the little reactions he’d make were precious. He’d gasp when you touched his thighs, he’d hum when you stroked his neck, he’d whimper when you took his plump bottom lip between your teeth. The more you worked him up, the luckier you felt to have been the only person to have ever seen him like this. 

 You wondered how that could be while you sucked his lips. Plenty of girls had crushed on Mingi over the years. You knew because they’d always ask you if you were his girlfriend before they tried to confess to him. No matter how many times you told them you weren’t, he never ended up dating any of them.

 You detached from his lips with a smack. “Mingi?”

 “Mm?” He blinked, eyes slightly glazed over and lips swollen from kisses.

 “Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before?”

 His eyes widened for a split second, and he tried to cover it up by blinking a few times. “Uh… just never met the right person, I guess.”

 “But girls have been throwing themselves at you for years… You didn’t ever want to try anything with them?”

 “Guess I just wanted to wait for someone that I really…” he swallowed. “Trust.”

 That made sense. The thought of doing all of these things with a stranger was horrifying, but you felt safe with Mingi. You smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth.

  “I trust you too, Ming. Wanna try something new?”

 “O-okay, yeah.”

 You tapped his shoulder twice. “Lay down.”

 Like a puppy who’d just been given a command, he lowered himself against your pillows, swinging his legs up so he was laying on the bed. You swung a leg over his hips to straddle them, and his eyes immediately widened. 

 You’d never really taken time to admire how pretty Mingi was. His chest, which was more toned than you’d realized, was swelling and deflating as he attempted to stabilize his breathing. His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed, and you’d be stupid to not notice the way his thick thighs tensed and relaxed underneath his black jeans. 

 And then you leaned down, hovering over him to study his face. You ran your thumb over his sharp jaw as you took in his other features; The same darkness in his eyes that wasn’t mysterious, but warm and inviting. The straight line of his nose, the pointed tip of it. The birthmark under his eye, the one on his cheek, the acne scars that dotted his cheeks like stars. Those fucking lips.

 Mingi was really fucking cute. Had he always been?

 You kissed him again, smiling when a little whimper escaped his lips. 

 “Cute,” you mumbled, unaware that the word had left your mouth until it was too late.

 Or maybe it was a good thing that you said it. Mingi’s response was enough to make you think that, at least. He moaned again, louder this time, as he pushed his hips forward against yours. 

 Mingi always got hard during your makeout sessions, but you always pretended not to notice to spare him from any embarrassment. However, pretending not to notice was incredibly difficult with his bulge grinding against your heat.

 He moaned at the stimulation, but quickly interrupted himself. “Ooh-sorry! I’m so sorry, that wasn’t on purpo–”

 You clapped a hand over his mouth. “I told you we have to be quiet.”

 He nodded, eyes wide as your hand stayed pressed to his mouth. You slid it down to rest on his chest when you whispered in his ear. “Don’t be sorry. That’s what I wanted to try.”

 You pushed and pulled your hips against his erection again in one experimental thrust, grinning when his eyes screwed shut and his lips pressed together. You cupped his face to guide his lips to yours again.

 It was as uncoordinated as two virgins could be. Though your lips easily moved together from a week of practice, neither of your hips were skilled enough to set any sort of rhythm. You just desperately grabbed at each other, groping and humping and kissing like your lives depended on it. 

 Soon, you could feel your soaking panties uncomfortably sticking to your core. The fabric gave you the tiniest bit of stimulation, dragging against your clit and ever-so-slightly teasing you. And the boy underneath you was driving you insane, with his messy kisses and his tiny groans. 

 You didn’t know what the end goal was, but you knew that it felt better when you grinded your hips faster, so that’s what you did. 

 “Ah-” You silenced Mingi’s moan by pressing your mouth to his again, sighing as he hummed against your lips.

 And then he whimpered your name. He’d said your name a thousand times before, but he’d never said it like this. Like it was a cry for help, a desperate plea for something. The sound fueled the fire of your desperation as you continued moving your hips, hoping to God that he’d say it again.

 And he did. You attached your lips to his neck and he whined your name once more, followed by a tiny breath of, “O-oh, god…”

 His little sounds were getting better and better. Your name slipped past his lips between breathy whimpers and choked hums, and you kept licking and sucking his neck while you grinded your clothed, soaking pussy against his painfully hard, just as clothed dick.

 Finally, you took pity on the poor thing. His moans were getting increasingly desperate, and you could tell that he was doing everything in his power to keep them quiet. You hovered your lips directly over his ear.

 “What’s wrong, baby?”

 “A-ah-mph!” He squeezed his eyes shut as he writhed on the bed, pressing his hand to his mouth to keep his pathetic noises in. His whole body was shaking when you sat up.

 A wet patch on the crotch of his jeans made the dark fabric even darker, and a horrified expression washed over his face as your eyes immediately landed on it. If he would’ve looked between your legs, he would’ve noticed that your shorts were just as soaked, but he didn’t. He only saw your dumbfounded expression as you tried to figure out what you were supposed to say. All that came out was, “D-did you just…?”

 You just made a boy cum. From kissing. This had to have been the best day of your life. 

 “I’m sorry,” he breathed, pushing you off of him. He immediately stood up, locating his jacket on your desk and holding it in front of his pants as he slid his bag over his shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry.” He looked down the whole time, never letting his eyes meet yours as he slipped his way out of your bedroom door. 

 “Mingi!” you called two seconds too late. “You’re not going to–” 

 You sighed, letting your voice get quiet. “Help me?”

 He didn’t come back, leaving you with soaking panties and an unsatiated pulsing between your legs that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

You texted him the next morning.

 It’s not a big deal, Ming. Do you want to come over?

 He didn’t respond. You went the whole weekend without hearing from him, and even when you waited for him at your usual spot on Monday, he didn’t show. You sent him another text. 

 Stop being stupid. I miss you.

 He didn’t respond to that, either. By Tuesday, you were so anxious to see him that you waited outside his lecture hall after his morning class, scanning the crowd of faces for him. He wasn’t difficult to find; his tall frame easily distinguished him from the rest of the crowd, even with his shoulders slouched. He made eye contact with you and immediately put his head down, walking faster. 

 “Mingi!” You yelled, weaving through the crowd to follow him. 

 His pace quickened, his long legs carrying him out of the brick building and through the grassy common area, skillfully dodging flying frisbees and strategically-hung Enos. 

 “Mingi! This…” you panted. “This isn’t fair! Your legs are longer than mine!”

 He flinched with each call of his name, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t slow down. You picked up your pace to a jog, huffing as you tried to catch up to him. “MINGI! Stop fucking ignoring me!”

 After quickening your steps to a borderline sprint, you finally got close enough to grab the handle of his backpack, yanking him backwards and causing both of you to collapse on the lawn in the process. 

 “Ow…” he whined, rubbing his butt and attempting to brush grass off of it.

 “You…” you breathed. “You fucking suck. Why aren’t you talking to me?”

 “W-What do you want me to say? What the hell am I supposed to say after humiliating myself like that?”

 “I told you it wasn’t a big deal, stupid! I wanted to make you feel good!”

 His ears burned as he looked at you with wide eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and shock painting his face. 

 “And you… you didn’t even stay and help me. I was more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life, and you just got up and left! Right after I helped you finish! Who the fuck does that?”

 “I…” he breathed, trying not to pass out. He made you more turned on than you’d ever been in your life? “I didn’t think you wanted me to…”

 “You didn’t think I wanted to feel good, too?”

 “No!” he stammered, “No, I just… I didn’t think, I mean, I thought you would think I was gross.”

 You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Mingi, the entire point of having sex is to feel good. I didn’t think you were gross, I was jealous of you.”

 And see, that was where he fundamentally disagreed with you. As far as Mingi was concerned, the entire point of having sex was to be intimate with someone you love. Feeling good was just a bonus. 

 He loved you so fucking much. Knowing that you didn’t feel the same way about him made his chest physically ache, but he knew that you needed him, and that was more than he could have hoped for. If you didn’t love him, at least you could love the way he made you feel. 

 “I’ll make it up to you next time,” he assured you. “I promise I’m gonna make you feel good.”

 Your smile reappeared, and he felt like he’d been hit by a train.

 “Yeah,” you laughed, punching his shoulder. “You better. Wanna try that new boba place?”

The boba was mid, but it was nice to just be in Mingi’s presence again. He crumpled his straw wrapper as he told you about his weekend, how his mom’s birthday was coming up, and how things were getting more serious between Yunho and his girlfriend. 

 You liked the sound of his voice. You remembered when it used to crack all the time in middle school, but it had since balanced out into a smooth baritone, cascading your ears in warmth. 

 “Are you listening to me?”

 “What? Yes.” 

 “No, you’re not,” he scoffed. ”You’ve been staring at my lips for the past five minutes.” 

 “Yeah, because you have foam on them.”

 He immediately wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his ears flushing a bright red as he mumbled a disingenuous “fuck you.”

 The foam was only a scapegoat. You both knew how much you loved his lips. 

 “Speaking of fuck you…” You shifted in your metal chair. “When… when are we going to… you know…”

 “What?”

 “You know…” You looked to the side, your eyes widening. 

 His heartrate doubled. “Oh. Um… I don’t know. Was there… did you have a specific time in mind?”

 “Sorry, didn’t realize I needed to make an appointment,” you laughed. “I don’t know. I just… I want to. Soon.”

 He remembered your words. Get it over with. 

 “Okay,” he nodded. “We can. Soon.”

 You picked up his hand that was resting on the table to play with his fingers, pinching them between your smaller ones while you chewed on a ball of sweet tapioca. 

 He swallowed and watched you, his eyes glazing over. I love you, I love you, I love you.

 Your stomach dropped a bit when you met his starry eyes. You didn’t know why.

Two days later and you had Mingi underneath you again, his hands gripping your waist while you sucked on those perfect lips. 

 “Gonna make you feel good this time…” he whispered, trying to catch his breath between your feverish kisses. “Promise.”

 You just rested your hand on the back of his neck and sighed.

 “Can I… Is it okay if I take your shirt off?” He asked, his face a deep shade of red. 

 “Yeah,” you breathed. “It’s okay.”

 But he didn’t move, so you tugged on the hem of your shirt and lifted it off yourself. His breath caught in his throat when he saw your half-naked torso, covered by nothing but a slightly too tight purple bra that you got on clearance a few years ago.

 He shakily brushed a fingertip over the little bow in the center of it.

 Your face felt so hot you were sure water would boil if someone rested a pot on your cheek.

 “Can you… take your shirt off, too? This feels weird.” You covered your torso with your arms.

 “O-oh, yeah,” he nodded. “I’m sorry. Yeah.”

 You scooted back so that he could sit up, his trembling hands lifting his shirt over his head.

 His chest was flushed red. That was the first thing you noticed. And his belly was lean, but also soft and smooth, puffing and deflating with his shallow breath. 

 You rested a hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. He just watched you.

 “We’re not kids anymore…” you whispered. There was a sad tone to your words, almost as if you were grieving.

 “No,” Mingi shook his head, his voice barely audible. “We’re not.”

 It was a beautifully horrifying realization. The kid you used to make mud soup with was a man now, and he was touching you like you’d never been touched before.

 You kissed him then. To comfort him, to comfort yourself, to be closer to the person who already knew you better than anyone in the universe.

 You unclasped your bra and just let it loosely rest on top of your chest.

 “Hey,” Mingi whispered, “Just me, remember?”

 Right. Just Mingi. 

 You tossed your bra to the side, instinctively covering your boobs with your hands.

 “Please…” Mingi placed his hands over yours. “I want to see you.”

 He sighed when you removed your hands, just as slowly.

 “Pretty…” he mumbled. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

 You nodded and he ran his hands over the lines on your sides where your bra had been digging into your skin. You cursed yourself for not buying a new one before this. Maybe he’d like one of those silk push-up bras you always saw your friends wearing, or perhaps one of those flimsy lace bralettes that you saw in the windows at Victoria’s Secret last week.

 “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and the insecurity in your stomach almost vanished completely. Almost. 

 He leaned forward, cupping one of your tits in his huge hand and gently kissing the other. You gasped when you felt his wet tongue drag across your nipple, and he looked up at you for reassurance while you laced your fingers through his hair. 

 “Does that feel good?”

 “Yes,” you breathed. “Y-yeah, that feels good….”

 He gently latched his mouth to your nipple, sucking and then running his soft tongue over the flesh to soothe it. You didn’t mean to, but you arched your back, and his free hand found a place in the dip of your waist.

 You subconsciously tugged on his hair as he sucked your other nipple. He worshipped your tits, kissing, sucking, and licking them while you quietly moaned, grinding against his erection. You wanted to let him continue all night, but soon,  the pulsing between your thighs started to become unbearable. 

 “Ming… need you to fuck me,” you whispered. “Please.”

 He pulled back a bit, his plump lips glossy and his adam’s apple dipping as he swallowed.

 “Okay.”

 He didn’t move and you didn’t, either. You just looked at each other, breathing heavy though you’d hardly done anything yet.

 “... Nobody’s ever seen me naked before,” he said under his breath.

 You shook your head. “Me neither.”

 He kissed you again, but it was really just so that you wouldn’t watch him while he took his pants off. And you weren’t sure what you were doing, you weren’t sure why, but once both of your pants were off, you reached a hand down and felt him through the thin fabric of his boxers.

 He took in a sharp inhale. 

 “I’m sorry,” you said, “Is this okay?”

 And then you felt a large hand between your thighs, softly rubbing you through your panties.

 It felt so much different from when you did it to yourself. More pleasurable, sure, but also more vulnerable. More intense.

 Neither of you knew what to say. You felt how hard he was against your hand. He felt the little wet patch soaking through your panties. You both needed this desperately, and yet for a few moments, nobody moved. 

 “Y-you can take them off of me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper and it cracked in the middle, but you were proud of yourself for getting the words out. 

 His hands shook when he slid them down your thighs. Before he could stare for too long, you slid your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down. 

 You weren’t sure if he was big or not. You’d never seen a penis in real life before, only in porn, and he looked about the same size as what you’d seen in porn. Did that mean he was big?

 He looked down, and you realized you were staring. “Sorry,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again. 

 “N-no, it’s okay. Is it… I mean, do you like it?”

 Your face broke into a smile. Mingi, Mingi, Mingi. “Yes, it’s  lovely, Ming. Stop stressing.”

 You reached for a condom on your nightstand, closely inspecting the foil packet for instructions. 

 “I think I can do it,” he mumbled, gently taking the condom out of your hand.

 “You know how to?”

 “I think so.”

 After a few minutes of him fumbling with the latex, his lips were on yours again and you could feel his dick resting on your thigh. 

 “Are you ready?” He pulled back for a moment to look you in the eye.

 “M-mhm,” you nodded.

 He kissed your cheek and held his dick in his hand, aligning himself. A painful stretching sensation flooded your lower half as his thick tip poked at your entrance. 

 He inhaled shakily. “C-can I… can I push it in now?”

 You nodded. “I… think so? Y-yeah… go ahead…”

 He pushed his hips forward, and the sensation intensified when you felt his tip enter you with a pop. The pain was excruciating, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. A horrid stretch, almost like a burn, splitting you open in the worst way. Tears pricked into your eyes.

 “OW! Ow, ow, ow, stop, stop, stop!” You pushed his broad shoulders away, whimpering when he frantically pulled out. That hurt, too.

 “O-oh my god, are you okay? What did I- D-did I do something wrong?”

 You looked down at his dick, which was still fully hard. He was big, you supposed. Really big. With his cock resting on your stomach, it went all the way up to your belly button. You felt stupid for thinking you could take him without any prep.

 And you also felt embarrassed. This wasn’t how your first time was supposed to go. This didn’t happen in porn. You were supposed to be screaming his name, he was supposed to be groaning yours and pounding you into the mattress. You were supposed to be making him feel good, and he was supposed to be doing the same for you. A lump formed in your throat and you attempted to blink the tears out of your eyes, which probably just made them more teary. 

 “No,” you breathed. “I think… I don’t think I’m wet enough.”

 He frowned. “Did we not kiss for long enough?”

 “No, no, we did.” Guilt crept into your chest. You knew this wasn’t how he pictured his first time going, either. 

 His frown intensified as a pained look washed over his face. “Are you not… is it because you’re not attracted to me?”

 “Stop it, Mingi. It’s not for any reason. You didn’t do anything wrong. Let’s just… we can get lube from the store and try again tomorrow, okay? I can jerk you off to help you finish if you want.”

 His heart ached. He didn’t want you to ‘help him finish.’ He wanted to make love to you, soft and tender and slow. He wanted to hold your face and kiss your forehead and tell you how much you meant to him.

 But his dick was painfully hard, and there aren’t many times that the love of your life offers to help you finish even though they don’t feel the same way about you, so he said, “Yes, please.”

 You wrapped your fingers around his erection, biting your cheek to stop yourself from crying. He bit his lip to do the same.

Mingi couldn’t make eye contact with the cashier when he bought lube from the drug store the next day. His hands shook as he put his card into the reader, and they kept shaking while he entered his pin number. The machine dinged and he yanked his card out, snatching the plastic bag from the cashier before they had time to offer him a receipt. His face burned the entire walk to your dorm and didn’t stop burning once he got there.

 His breath caught in his throat when you opened the door. “I got the…” he held the plastic bag up. “I got the stuff.”

 You laughed and stepped back to let him inside. “You make it sound like we’re about to do drugs.”

 Yeah, something like that.

 Mingi didn’t say anything when you sat him on your bed and straddled his hips. He whimpered a little bit when you pressed your lips to his, and you assumed that it was just because he was horny. 

 You held the side of his neck and worked your tongue against his, rolling your hips forward to grind against his growing bulge. He whimpered again, and you moved your face down to suck on his neck. 

 “I think you need to finger me first,” you whispered in his ear.

 “W-what?” He blinked up at you for a moment, his eyes wide and starry before he shyly looked away. “I’ve never… I mean… I don’t know how to do that.”

 “It can’t be that hard, right? You just take your fingers and, like… put them in me.”

 “I think it’s a little more complicated than that.”

 “Well… I’ll just tell you what feels good, okay? I do it to myself all the time.”

 His eyes snapped up again as he imagined you touching yourself. He’d thought about it before, late at night when he was jerking off, but hearing you say it out loud made him feel dizzy. Flames erupted across his cheeks again, and his body tensed.

 Your face burned with the realization of your confession. “Stop picturing it.”

 “S-sorry.”

 “I just need your fingers first, okay? I can’t… I can’t take your dick without some prep first.”

 It was like you wanted him to cum in his pants again. He nodded and reached for the plastic bag, fishing out the lube and taking it out of its little purple box. 

 “I’m sorry about yesterday, by the way.” His voice was quiet.

 “There’s nothing to be sorry about. That’s why we’re doing this together, you know? Because we feel safe around each other.”

 He nodded.

 “But for the record…” You lowered your head, still embarrassed about how yesterday went. “I’m sorry, too.”

 “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He smiled.

 You kissed him, and you were so glad that you were kissing him. 

 “I’m really going to need you to walk me through this because I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.” His cheeks were a splotchy red. 

 You laughed. “I promise it sounds scarier than it actually is.” You pulled your shirt over your head, embarrassed again when you realized you were wearing the same purple bra that you wore yesterday.

 “Shit,” you breathed. “I meant to wear something nicer for you today. Sorry.”

 For me? Mingi thought. For me? 

 But he said, “I like this one. It’s cute.” And he touched the little bow again.

 “Thanks.” You climbed off of his lap to take your shorts off. “Lift your arms.”

 He obeyed, and you lifted his shirt over his head. It didn’t need to be off yet, you supposed, but you’d been dreaming about Mingi’s lean abdomen all day and you didn’t want to wait another second to have it under your fingertips again. 

 You laid down on the bed and slid your panties off, but didn’t spread your legs yet. You felt vulnerable again, especially considering that Mingi still had his pants on. 

 “C-can you–” you started.

 “Yeah,” Mingi nodded, already unbuttoning his pants. When they were off, he sat back down and gently brushed his fingertips over your thigh. 

 “Okay,” he breathed. “Tell me what to do.”

 “Just… just kiss me for a second.” The truth was, you weren’t even really sure how to give him instructions, and you wanted to buy yourself some time. You usually just felt around until something felt good, and you weren’t sure how to explain that to him.

 He kissed you. You decided that even if he was always too big for you, even if you couldn’t ever take his full length, you’d probably be just as happy kissing him and jerking him off like you did last night.

 You felt his hand on your inner thigh and you liked the feeling. 

 “Okay, so…” you inhaled deeply. “Just start with one. And you can just kinda… feel around? I’ll tell you what feels good.”

 “Okay,” he nodded, taking a deep breath, too. “Okay.”

 He dripped some of the lube onto his fingers, rubbing it with his thumb in an attempt to warm it up. Your body tensed as you felt his finger slide between your folds, shaking slightly as he rubbed you up and down.

 He seemed to stop breathing for a moment. His eyes just raked over your body, all wide and starry while he clumsily touched you. 

 “You’re gorgeous,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

 “M-Mingi, Ah-” You let out a tiny yelp when his fingertip brushed your clit.

 “Did I hurt you?” He immediately stopped, taking his fingers away. 

 “N-no, that felt good… really good…” You nodded. 

 He tried to find the spot again, clumsily drawing circles around it.

 “S-so good. Yeah, r-right there,” you sighed.

 His fingertip slipped a little too far to the left. 

 “N-no, back where it was.”

 After a few seconds of “Here?” and “No, here,” back and forth, he found the spot again and gently traced it. 

 Your eyes rolled back and closed as your body twitched, trying to get used to the sensation of being touched by another person. 

 Then his fingers slid further down, but it was intentional this time. 

 Mingi looked you in the eye and didn’t say anything as he gently circled his fingertip around your opening, coating it in lube and spreading your arousal at the same time. 

 You didn’t say anything, either. You couldn’t if you tried. But he understood your tiny nod and the look of desperation in your eyes, so he gently pushed his finger inside. 

 His long, thick finger went deeper than your own ever had, but it didn’t hurt. “O-ohh,” you breathed, shivering.

 Mingi was at a loss for words. Your pussy was hugging his finger so tight and you felt so warm and the tiny noises that you were making were about to send him over the edge. “Fuck…” he sharply inhaled through his teeth, staring up at the ceiling for a minute so that he didn’t cum untouched.

 “M-Mingi,” you breathed, “Go like this.” And then you held a finger up and curved it inward, and he immediately obeyed.

 Your back arched to a borderline uncomfortable degree as you let out a pathetic little noise, and Mingi seriously was on the edge of an orgasm already.

 “I-is that a sensitive spot?”

 “Do it again,” you commanded. “Mingi, do that again.”

 He did, and then he did it a few more times, pumping his finger and setting a rhythm. You were probably being a little too squirmy, but you couldn’t help it. Nothing had ever felt like this before. 

 “Fuck,” you breathed. “Add another one.”

 Mingi meant to ask ‘Are you sure?’ but his head was so fuzzy with arousal that he just obeyed, pushing his middle finger in next to his pointer finger.

 “S-shit,” you gasped, sitting up and holding his wrist. “Hold on a sec– fuck.”

 “Are you okay?”

 “It feels good,” you nodded. “Just forgot how thick these are.”

 He understood. He could almost feel you stretching out, and he suddenly felt horribly guilty for not offering to do this before he attempted to put his dick inside of you yesterday.

 “You’re doing amazing,” he encouraged you, nodding slightly. “J-just let me know when you want more, okay?”

 “C-can you…” You blushed, too shy to complete your sentence. 

 He knit his eyebrows at you, giving you an encouraging nod. He felt your pussy tighten around his fingers, and he tried not to groan.

 “What do you need, baby?” He soothed, “Just tell me what you need and I’ll give it to you.”

 Your face burned. Mingi had never been more attractive to you, with his lips swollen and his cheeks flaming and his fingers deep inside of you. He was gently thrusting his fingers, massaging your g-spot, tracing your opening, and stretching you out all in a fluid motion.

 “C-can you play with my clit again while you do that?” You whispered. 

 He nodded immediately, smiling and circling his thumb around your pebbled clit. 

 “O-ohh…” you moaned, burying your face in his neck. “Oh my god…”

 He swallowed roughly. “G-good…” He encouraged as he felt you slowly relax around his fingers.

 Your back arched, tiny little whimpers escaping you as Mingi made love to you with his hand. 

 And he was barely holding it together. He could feel the tip of his dick sticking to his boxers, precum smearing against the fabric and providing his cockhead with the tiniest bit of friction every time he moved his hips. 

 “Do you want one more? Or are you good with two?” His voice was hoarse. 

 “I d-on’t—“ You inhaled sharply, eyes closing as you felt the tiny spark of an orgasm in your core. “D-don’t think I can take a third…”

 Mingi nodded, and then he kissed your forehead. He wanted to speak, but he was putting all of his effort into keeping up a steady rhythm with his hand and not coming in his pants while your tensed thigh rubbed his dick. 

 And then it was silent for a few moments, except for the quiet squelching coming from between your legs every few seconds. 

 “I think I’m gonna cum.” You whispered, keeping your eyes closed. Focusing on that feeling, chasing it.

 Mingi swallowed, his breath catching. “Mm.” He hummed. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

 Your breath caught in your throat, the rest of it escaping in a choked whimper. “F-faster…” You breathed, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “Please.”

 He nodded, quickening his movements. You leaned up, catching his lips in a messy kiss as you got closer and closer.

 You were quieter than you thought you’d be. As your orgasm approached, you hardly made any noise at all, save for a few little gasps. 

 Your mouth dropped open and you pressed your forehead to your lover’s, letting out one single moan as your orgasm clenched down on his fingers. It ran through your body in waves, your muscles tensing and releasing rhythmically.

 “My god…” Mingi groaned, continuing his movements. “G-Good job, baby.”

 You squeaked, gently pushing his hand away as you neared overstimulation. His brows furrowed as he worried that he’d hurt you, but you immediately eased his anxiety by holding the back of his neck and pressing your lips to his again.

 “Felt so good…” You mumbled through kisses. “T-think I’m ready now…”

 His heart fluttered as he felt your hand between his legs, stroking his sensitive thighs. And then he looked at you in a way that a boy had never looked at you before, with big, dark, sparkling, pleading eyes. Like he needed you.

 So gently, like you were afraid he’d break, you slipped his dick out of his blue plaid boxers. He was so hard, so sticky and pulsing that you were sure he must have been in pain. “Thank you for making me feel good,” you whispered. “I know it must have been hard to wait…”

 He shook his head, closing his eyes. “Don’t thank me.” He let out a tiny noise as you stroked him once. “I loved it,” he breathed. “I loved doing that for you.”

 You smiled, kissing him again. “Take these off,” you pleaded, tugging at the waistband of his boxers. 

 Mingi pushed them down, kicking them off the bed at his feet. And then he was fully naked, hovering above you, also fully naked. It should have been scary, but you’d never felt more safe. You reached your arms behind him, stroking his back before sliding your hands down to teasingly squeeze his ass.

 He let out a choked noise and you laughed. “Sorry, I’ve always wanted to do that. You have a really nice ass.”

 He shook his head, laughing and kissing you again.

 “You’re really beautiful, Mingi.” You whispered, feeling another pang in your core as he groaned at the praise. 

 He reached a hand up, squeezing your breast as he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you. His heavy cock rested on your belly, clear precum sticking to your soft skin. 

 You reached for the condom on the nightstand, carefully ripping it open. His eyes didn’t leave your face as you gently rolled it onto him, your small hand wrapping around his girth. You slid his tip between your folds, then coated it in even more lube. You knew it might still hurt a little bit, but you felt much more prepared for it this time. 

 “The second it starts to hurt,” he whispered, his voice raspy. “You tell me.”

 You nodded. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, and didn’t look away when his tip was aligned with your entrance. 

 But his eyes fluttered shut a bit when he slipped inside. He couldn’t help it.

 Your gasp made him open his eyes again. “Are you okay?”

 “Mmh–” You nodded, your voice high pitched and squeaky. He pushed forward, filling you, stretching you, making you his.

 “Mingi…” You whined, tears blurring your vision. “S-so big…”

 He kissed away the first tear that fell. “I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, “Y-You’re doing so well.”

 He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his length. 

 “Is it…” You looked up at him with teary eyes. “Is it all the way in yet?”

 “Not yet.” His eyes were full of empathy and adoration. “Can you take any more? It’s okay if you can’t.”

 You whimpered. “S’big, Mingi.”

 “I know, baby, I know it’s big. Does it feel good? D-Does it hurt?”

 “It feels…” you trailed off. “It feels good but it hurts. I dunno if I can take any more.”

 “That’s okay,” he nodded, kissing your forehead. “You feel s-so good just like this.”

 “R-really?”

 “Yes,” he nodded. “You feel amazing. So… so fucking good.” He gritted his teeth as he spoke, shaking and sweating and forcing himself to not instinctively start fucking you hard and fast. “Can I move a little bit now?”

 “Yes,” you nodded. “Slow, please.”

 He pulled back so that only the very end of his tip was dipped into your opening, then shakily pushed forward in a single stroke, a little over three quarters of the way inside. 

 Tears stung his and your eyes. You felt better than anything he’d ever felt before, and the stretching sensation was starting to feel more pleasant than painful. 

 “I’m so…” he whimpered. “I’m so proud of you. You’re taking me so well.”

 “Mingi…” you whined in response, clawing at his back. “F-feels good.”

 “Yeah?” His eyes met yours. “It feels good?”

 “Mmm. I want… want you to fuck me. B-but slow, okay?”

 He visibly shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as his whole body became covered in goosebumps. 

 “T-tell me if it’s too much.”

 He attempted to set a pace then, slowly pushing and pulling his hips to halfway-fuck you as gently as he possibly could. Little moans slipped from your lips in time with his thrusts.

 “Ungh…” he whimpered, “God. F-feels so good. You’re so…” his eyebrows furrowed. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

 “Mingi…” You rested your hand on his cheek. “Kiss.”

 He didn’t need to be told twice. His perfectly full lips gently kissed yours, softly massaging his tongue into your mouth while he slowly pumped his cock in and out of you. You were embarrassed that you couldn’t take his whole length yet, but you decided in that moment that this wouldn’t be the last time you did this with him, and you had all the time in the world to train for the entirety of him. 

 “Fuck…” he repeated, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m… I’m close. I’m sorry.”

 “You are?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, a moan slipping from your lips when his thrusts got a bit faster. 

 That was fast, you thought, but it was his first time, you supposed. You hoped he had good stamina, because you didn’t want this night to be anywhere close to over.

 “I c-can’t…” His hips were starting to shake a bit. “God, you feel so good. Squeezing me so tight.”

 “Ming…” you whispered, holding his face. “I wanna make you cum. Want you to cum for me.”

 “Oh, fuck…” he whimpered. “God, f-fuck-“

 His voice cracked as his eyes squeezed shut, his belly tensing and his lips dropping open in a silent moan. 

 And for a few seconds, time didn’t exist. There was only him and you and your bodies, like this was how you were always meant to be. You felt his big hand on your waist and his thick length stretching you out, but you also felt that same comforting atmosphere that always followed him around. You saw his face, the one that you knew so well, contorted in pleasure, and you heard his familiar voice making unfamiliar noises. And there was no one in the world you’d rather do this with. There was no one else you wanted to kiss. 

 “I love you.”

 He cried out as he came, curling in on himself and burying his face in your neck as he pulled out so just his tip was inside, pumping the condom full of his load. 

 He pulled out and rested his cock on your belly, huffing in your neck as he caught his breath. 

 You stroked his hair and swallowed, a lump forming in your throat. 

 You said it. You told him out loud and you’d never be able to take it back. 

 He just kept breathing down your neck, sweaty and shaking and wondering if he heard you right. 

 “I– I tried not to…” you breathed. “I tried so hard not to fall in love with you. You’re my best friend and you mean more to me than anyone else. But I just…” 

 You swallowed. There was really no going back now. 

 “I see you smiling and it hits me like a steamroller. Like my chest is knocked in and I can’t breathe. It feels… It feels like I’m suffocating and I don’t know how to stop it or make it go away.”  

 You felt his large hand hold your jaw, and his lips were on yours. 

 “Please… be my girlfriend,” he mumbled, breathless between kisses.

 You pulled back to look in his eyes. “What?”

 “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Please, please, please be my girlfriend.”

 Your face broke a little bit. “You have?”

 He nodded, and then his face broke, too. “Please say yes.” He held your face, looking deep into your eyes. “P-please, baby.”

 “Obviously yes,” you smiled, tears so close to spilling from your eyes. “Dummy.”

 “I love you,” he cried, kissing you again. “I love you so fucking much.”

 “Mingi,” you breathed, for no reason other than to say his name. 

 He kissed you and cried and you kissed him and cried, and he suddenly remembered what Yunho said. A nice way to show her I really care. 

 He kissed down your neck, across your chest, on your nipples, over your belly, until his shoulders were between your thighs.

 “W-what are you doing?” You asked, looking down at him a little too innocently.

 “I don’t really know,” he sighed, leaning forward and kissing your dewy pussy.

 “A-ah! Mingi!” Your legs instinctively closed around his head, and his big hands gently pried them open again. 

 “It’s okay…” he breathed, leaning forward again. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you.” He sweetly kissed your inner thigh before spreading you with his tongue.

 You whimpered and squirmed, grabbing a fistful of his soft dark hair. 

 “You sound so pretty,” he mumbled, kissing your clit, “And you taste so good…”

 His thick, plump lips worked with his velvet tongue to worship your pussy. And it was loud, the room filled with wet sounds and Mingi’s groans, along with the pathetic little moans you were letting out. 

 You looked down at him. His ears and cheeks were dark red, his eyes closed, the sharp tip of his nose shiny and wet. 

 “T-that feels really good, Ming—“ You were interrupted by your own gasp as his tongue slipped into your entrance. 

 “You’re mine now…” His deep voice sounded gravelly and thick. “You’re all fucking mine…”

 “Mingi…” You whimpered, lacing your fingers through his hair as his lips sweetly sucked your clit. How did you learn how to do this? You wanted to ask. 

 But he was moaning against you again before the thought could finish. “I’m gonna do this every fuckin’ day…” He blinked slowly, a string of drool connecting his lips and your pussy. He used his broad shoulders to push your legs open even wider, taking a deep breath before diving back in. 

 This time, he slipped two fingers inside of you while he worked his tongue. He closed his eyes, enjoying the taste of you while he passionately used his fingers and tongue. 

 “I’ve dreamed of this…” He paused to kiss your inner thighs. “Wanted this for so long… needed to know what you tasted like.”

 “Mingi…” You breathed, watching as his pink tongue drew circles around your clit. “I-I’m gonna cum again…”

 “Yes,” he groaned, never coming up for air. “Please, baby. Come in my mouth. I wanna taste all of it, please… wanna lick you clean.”

 Hearing those filthy words come from shy, sweet Mingi’s mouth made your stomach flutter. Your thighs clenched around his head as he gave you the most enthusiastic slurp of the night, the otherwise silent room filled with the sounds of his mouth devouring you. 

 You moaned so loud when you came that there was no doubt in your mind that your roommates heard. Mingi’s groans of enthusiasm were hardly muted, either. 

 Your thighs twitched, your body shook and your hips pressed against Mingi’s warm mouth as your orgasm consumed you, and you’d never felt more adored in your life.

 And then he didn’t stop. 

 “Mingi!” You cried out, trying to squirm away from his tongue. 

 But he looped his arm under one of your thighs, keeping you pried open. He used his other hand to spread your pussy, groaning as he licked it again. 

 “My girl…” He mumbled, and he seemed to be drunk off the taste of you, talking to himself. “Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy…” 

 Your eyes widened and you twitched as his tongue flicked inside of you again. You’d never seen this side of Mingi before; you’d never seen anything close to this side of Mingi before… and you really, really didn’t want it to stop. But—

 “I’m really sensitive, Ming…”

 That seemed to snap him out of his trance a bit. He looked up, moving his body up to sweetly kiss your lips again. “I’m sorry, baby. You j-just…” He sighed, catching his breath. “You taste so good.”

 You smiled. “I really like it when you call me baby.”

 He kissed your forehead then collapsed on the bed, laying next to you. You rolled onto your side, gently stroking his belly. 

 “Do you feel good?” He asked softly, his full cheeks blushing. “Was that enough?”

 “Enough?” You laughed in disbelief. “It was perfect.” You nodded. “Perfect.”

 “I’ll always make sure you’re satisfied, okay?” Your boyfriend looked you in the eye, his brow slightly furrowed. “A-and I’ll always make sure you’re taken care of. I’ll make sure your belly is always full and your shoes never get dirty.”

 A kiss on his chin, your face in his neck. “It’s just me, Mingi. Just you and me.”

 “Just us…” He mumbled, “Just like always.”

 You nodded and then sat in silence, touching and being touched. He stroked your thigh with his pinky, his eyes on your lips. 

 “In our own little world. Just the two of us.”

[hello-gloomy]

Heya! I love your Dr Stone fanfics so much, it’s kinda hard to find people who write for it. I was wondering if I could request a Senku x female reader oneshot?

Reader is one of senku’s childhood friend (part of his group with Taiju) and did gymnastics and various martial arts so she’s good fighter. She used to protect him and taiju from bullies and people who were rude and judgemental. In the stone world she acts as Senku’s unofficial bodyguard. Reader and senku both had feelings for each other since childhood but neither of them ever said anything out of fear of ruining their friendship and fears that their feelings were unrequited. During the North American arc when Stanley shoots senku, reader takes the bullet for him instead and gets injured badly. Senku is able to save her but she’s still unconscious so he’s really antsy and anxious waiting by her side. When she wakes up they confess both confess. Or something along those lines.

Thank you!!!

Fusing these Two requests. I hope u don't mind.

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

Army Dreamers

Senkuu Ishigami x Fem!reader

Description: You've been with him since the beginning, every close call and false death. When he almost meets death again this time, you take his place.

Warnings: Angst, blood loss, anxiety, panic, mildly implied PTSD for Senku. Happy ending I promise.

A/N: I'm so close to having all my old asks cleared out istg.

Words: 717

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

Maybe you should have let him take the bullet; he probably had a plan. But your heart couldn't take the thought of losing him. The shards of the bullet in your back felt like nothing compared to the idea of losing Senku. That ringing in your ears was getting loud, though your vision kept going in and out. You could make out Senku trying to stop the blood and handle your wounds; Francios was beside him, helping the best that they could. It hurt to breathe; you could see his lips moving, but you still couldn't hear him. You feel cold, and that wet feeling on your chest feels uncomfortable to sit in. You move to try and sit up to get off the wetness but feel some pressure on your front. It's Senku, his hands red. Why was it red again?

He felt like throwing up; the blood could seep through the deck with how much you were losing; he couldn't even move yet because he didn't even know if the sniper left. You stopped struggling against him, finally. A few more braver crew members moved to where he was and helped him with you. They had to move you quickly without drawing another round of fire from the enemy. This was a horrible set of circumstances to be in right now; your blood was leaving a trail on the deck. When they had arrived below deck, you looked pale as hell; you barely looked alive. He had to get the bullet shards out of your back.

"I can help." It was Luna, and she looked determined; he was about to brush her off, but she was able to prepare the medical supplies adequately enough that he let her stay in the room to assist him and Kaseki. The surgery was a lengthy task, but they were able to get everything out and keep you alive. The others lingered, trying to comfort him, but he coldly told them he was fine and wanted to be alone with you for a while. They hesitantly left him alone in the room with you. You were slowly gaining color back again. He does the mental math of how long it should take you to wake up; the thought of you not waking up makes his hands tremble. He holds his head in his hands while he thinks about your situation logically; you weren't weak; he's known that since you were kids, hell, you were stronger than Taju in many ways and could be more potent than Tsukasa. Those thoughts don't make his hands stop shaking, though. He returns to what he's good at; he grabs your hand, finds your weak but steady pulse, and counts.

1

2

3

4

5

It was steady and comforting, grounding and reminding him that you were still fighting. He counted for a while, shutting everything out until he felt your wrist twitch in his hands. Senku's head snapped up at your slight motion and found you looking straight back at him. You gave him that same stupid smile from when you were kids; he couldn't help but crack his grin. His eyes felt misty with emotions he thought were illogical.

"You idiot. I had a plan, you know." He scolds you as he rubs your hand without thinking too much about it.

"Senku..?" He gave you a hum, letting you know to continue,

"I love you; I've loved you since you showed me how to build a rocket. Since we were children, I loved you with my entire being, and I couldn't stand the image of you dying in front of my eyes again." Tears spilled from your eyes as you watched his face; he took in your words and stayed quiet for a while before responding.

"Yeah, me too…" he told you with a little huff through his nose. He tried to play it off, but his hands were shaking again. You grabbed his hands and brought them to your mouth, pressing kisses to his palms. He let you continue for a while before abruptly grabbing your face and kissing you; the angle is awkward, and he's sloppy, but you wouldn't trade this for anything in the world right now.

"I'll always protect you, Senkuu, I swear."

"I'll keep you to that."

[arceus-insanity]

Endeavor Deserves No Sympathy!

I don't understand how anyone can think Endeavor was ever a good dad. It also always comes off as incredibly victim blamie, especially towards Touya, and often Shoto too.

He literally only got married and had kids to use them. He never gave a shit about their well being, never even thought about it until he had the one thing he cared about and was still miserable. I've already gone over the math proving he gave up on achieving his dream himself at 21 at the absolute latest. (https://www.tumblr.com/arceus-insanity/763259515356512256/i-liked-endeavors-character-when-he-was?source=share)

And basic math will once again be used to prove just how little this waste of flesh actually tries.

This time the focus is on how quickly he abandoned Touya and immediately went to emotional abuse via neglect & literally replacing him, and once again risking that more children be born with self-destructive quirks.

For context we only see Endeavor doing anything with his kids that's not him literally walking through and ignoring them in two circumstances. Once when Fuyumi's a newborn and Touya is attempting to crawl (not walk) over to her. And training. Those are the only times he tries to spend with any of them, even after he starts his 'atonement'

Now comparing Touya in the scene of them training and himself as a toddler and all the child imagery this series loves to use instead of actually saving imperfect victims, Touya is at least 3 (probably closer to 4) when he's taken to the doctor and they are informed of his condition

Natsuo is 4 and a half years younger than him.

We know for a fact Natsuo (& Shoto) was conceived after they got the news, not willingly either. Pregnancy takes 40 weeks average, so Touya would still be 3 when Natsuo was conceived. So once again it took this 'man' less than a year to give up and have another child he hoped to use as a tool, and was explicitly making to hurt his existing son. And as I have said plenty of times before, risking that the new kids could be born with the same disorder, I hate how convenient it is that Shoto gets near zero negative quirk side effects.

Want to know what we never see, Endeavor doing something else with Touya and Touya demanding training, it's always him walking past/ away from Touya. Considering all of the shit they've pulled to soften Endeavor's abuse both in the manga and even more so in the anime, they wouldn't skip something like this. It's not hard to tell that Touya's 'obsession with training' is really about spending time with his dad, you know like a human child that literally needs love, proven by numerous studies and research in the real world.

He throws all parenting responsibilities onto Rei, adds more children to that load, and when Touya suffers for it (like everyone else) he does nothing, doesn't even hire a nanny

Another are you kidding me take I've seen is that somehow Touya's quirk issues are worse than Midoriya's and Yuga's. Touya managed to train his quirk to produce blue fire at 13 with zero equipment and less than no help, and only lost control of it, because of the mental abuse Endeavor had inflicted on him leading him to a mental breakdown. And/ or the theory I've only seen once of AFO using his ability to force quirk activation (seen with a passed out chapter 90 during his first confrontation with All Might)

Midoriya was breaking his bones all the way into the Shie Hassaikai arc and was only able to fight because Eri and was breaking support equipment in the following arc as well. Yuga had a support belt all the way back in the entrance exam and was still struggling with that.

Speaking of Yuga let's compare parental effort here, because as much as it backfired Yuga's parents tried a whole lot more. For starters they nearly bankrupted themselves to get him a quirk, so he could feel equal. All For One is a mythic man prior to his arrest, and those who knew of him were shown to be serious long-term villain groups, so they had gone to quite a bit of effort to find that he existed to begin with. They also got him support gear (the navel belt thing) as a kid to help him with said quirk, he literally had it in the entrance exam. Endeavor never looked into that, Endeavor is not only rich too but he's a top hero he would have direct access to support equipment companies that would jump at the opportunity and it never even occurred to him.

Endeavor's name is an irony as endeavour means to try hard to do or achieve something. He never tries hard he gives up incredibly quickly the second there's any road block, but instead of moving on he makes everyone suffer for it. He's a toxic pageant mom who'd rather force their child into a toxic world and a role they don't want than work on himself

And what finally makes him change? Getting exactly what he wanted and still being miserable, and he still expects through his actions his family to cater to him.

Not his son getting a major disability due to his actions, no, he decided to double down, mentally abusing and neglecting the son he supposedly loves, raping his wife who didn't want more kids or participate in this abuse, and again risking that Natsuo & later Shoto might have that same issue. Not when his wife breaks down and permanently scars his precious masterpiece, who proceeds to rightfully blame him, and he just thinks of it as a tantrum despite it lasting a fucking decade. Not when his eldest literally dies as the result of his selfishness. Not literally during any part of this entire process!

Dabi is 23 when Endeavor finally starts to 'try' to be better, that means that for at least 24 years he has only been caring about his fucking precious number one spot in a popularity contest that he couldn't even bother to try to be likeable for, this wasn't one bad decision, this was him constantly choosing to be so insanely selfish that he found ways that shouldn't even be possible for over two decades. And it was all him.

[mistress-riddle]

tom riddle x ravenclaw head girl!reader

· ˚ ✧ cw + req. some she/her pronouns used. i stand behind tom being a bitch. i was kind of yapping, it's 1.1k words + 'I was wondering if you could please write some headcanons for Tom with a Ravenclaw s/o who is extremely intelligent but absolutely sucks at Potions. They are both Head Boy and Head Girl. Ik it doesn’t really make sense if she’s Head Girl and bad at Potions but let’s just say she’s passing because she does homework and puts lots of effort yk 😭 — anon?'

✧˖*°࿐ i think it’s quite plausible for her to be a little challenged with potions and still receive ‘passing’ grades btw. we know that a pass in general is an ‘acceptable’ and that slughorn requires an ‘exceeds expectations’ to enter his advanced potions classroom (newt level). with that being said, she could be great at theory work (such as explaining the effects of a potion, the suitable uses for ingredients and where to find them…), it’s just that when it comes to actually mixing together the proper ingredients, she can’t seem to get the desired end result (so lets say her potion ends up becoming, i don’t know, turquoise instead of green or something like that). the potion may work, but it’s probably not as potent as it should be or it’s considered ‘toxic’ in the typical suggested doses.

✧˖*°࿐ personally, i don’t think tom allowed himself to be anything less than brilliant, and considering how he was one of slughorn’s faves (got away with asking a ‘hypothetical’ question about one of the most obscure dark magic practices, like come on now, that’s peak “english teacher and the athletic popular boys” level of favouritism), i feel like it is safe to say he probably received very high grades in potions, probably an outstanding every time. and if we take into account the cave, where we find the emerald potion (a.k.a. drink of despair) which must be drunk in order for it to disappear (iirc it’s his own creation? or it’s heavily implied that it is) and considering the fact that the potion was most likely not checked on for a while — i feel like it’s valid to assume since the last time he checked on it using kreacher, and did not expire, it could have been the case that the potion was/mimicked an everlasting elixir which means that the potion either never ran out or never became ineffective. and while we don’t have much information about how complex it is to actually create an everlasting potion, it can be assumed that it requires advanced potion-making skills and successful brewing which is hard for people unskilled/average at potion-making. and so, that whole meta was really just my way of trying to say tom is a nerd and probably got really high grades and therefore means he’d be condescending about being smarty mcsmarty pants to our poor head girl 😭

✧˖*°࿐ i imagine he’d make a few underhanded comments here and there like suggesting she should brew something and then following it with a “oh… nevermind!” and then quietly laughing to himself. like stfu mf. no one thinks you’re funny.

✧˖*°࿐ he gives me major ‘i won’t help unless you outright asked (read: begged) for my assistance and if i feel like it, only then will i help you’. i don’t think he’d feel threatened enough by anyone to consider being overtaken, which would have been a reason for him to avoid helping out, because hello? no one could beat him, he probably took every subject available like the nerd he is (narcissistic and a nerd? pick a struggle, you insufferable boy). so yes, if she asked him really really really nicely (i.e. offered him something nice in return which could range from sweets to a whole new wardrobe, his pick) then he would totally, condescendingly tell her to “add the stupid, blasted liver after the brew begins to boil like it said in the book, for fuc— oh, professor slughorn! i was just going over the instructions with…” fake. ass. he’s actually an ethnic dad teaching his kid maths btw, you’re crying and he’s trying to restrain himself from calling you an imbecile and finding 20 synonyms to follow it with. this is why dumbledore rejected you for the dada position, you prick!!

✧˖*°࿐ i think if you were his deskmate/station-mate or whatever, he’d keep his eyes on your potion whenever he’s finished with the necessary steps for his own, purely because he’s bored and is a nosey bitch who likes being an overachiever. “it’s anti-clockwise…” “you know you’re using a quarter instead of a half right now?…” “oh please, you forgot to add the feathers…” like just do it yourself atp. you’re being a menace, even though you might? maybe? possibly? infinitesimally? mean well and don’t want to see the potion blowing up in the poor head girls face or have slughorn walk past her cauldron with a click of his tongue and a disappointed glance of his eyes which in turn causes our ravenclaw’s lips to purse and eyebrows to fall. tom when he sighs and rolls his eyes but charms the ladle to stir in the right direction, adding the necessary proportion of ingredients all whilst looking like he wants to be anywhere but in the classroom he spends so much time in. (tom riddle softie era???? if only he actually wasn’t a dick smh)

✧˖*°࿐ but other than your little potions “floundering”, power couple i hear?? i think when it comes to head boy and head girl relationships it’s either pure love and/or respect or “i genuinely don’t know how you got this title when you’re so incompetent and losery, i think you should kys” which creates for hilarious dynamics ! i think, contrary to popular fanfic belief, tom needs someone who could challenge him a little (not so much that he wants to (and can successfully) destroy them but enough to make him suck his teeth and for his eye to twitch) and i think the most harmless way would be ‘academically’ because god forbid it’s actually magically, then he’s conspiring on how to bring about your downfall because how dare you be better than the most brilliant wizard alive who pushes the boundaries of magic and blah, blah, blah… anywho ! he would definitely appreciate an academic and curious mind who’s imaginative and willing to experiment with him. he thinks the pinnacle of romance is trading books and hanging out in the library so you’d definitely need to be someone who is willing to engage in magical (and sometimes non-magical??) debate with him.

✧˖*°࿐ i also absolutely do think he uses you as an excuse to check out the ravenclaw library because it’s all good and well that he can easily walk into the common room (i mean a riddle for riddle… come on now, it’s too easy) but he would definitely get multiple side eyes for walking in all willy nilly unless he had a reason, i.e. visiting his pretty, intelligent, and amazing head girl of a partner ! tom is not tom if he’s not scheming and plotting to use people to his advantage (even if he likes them romantically, it’s the poor orphan boy unable to make healthy connections in him)

· ˚ ✧ return to main masterlist?

[thereweredragonshere]

what headcanons do you have for the riders in a modern au?

Sorry if some of these are a little basic lmao I don't think about modern aus all that much.

They all live in Britain. Sue me. I want some dragons over this side of the atlantic.

Hiccup -

Does digital art

Plays minecraft religiously and can do red stone better than he can do maths

has failed exams due to his pretty much illegible hand writing despite answers being mostly correct

Listens to exclusively 80s/90s music

Lives in a flat above a pub that his dad owns called 'Berk' aka 'Berk's bar' (Which is a whole au that i have and is where i got the name for my discord server from lmao. But these headcanons aren't all specifically from that au. Just general ones.)

Gets bullied quite bad at school. He's taken days off because of it before.

Class presentations are his worst nightmare. Can never get his words out during them and gets very freaked out.

Astrid -

Plays Rugby, Football, does boxing, really name any contact sport and she's probably tried it at some point. Her favourite lesson is P.E. (Physical education/gym class) and she will riot if it gets cancelled for some reason.

'Difficult' student. She struggles with anger management and schools are shit at helping kids with that, so she gets labelled as a problem child cuz she always chats back and gets sent out of classrooms.

Despite being a 'problem' child, she still gets all the shit that needs doing done.

Never shows up to school assemblies. She usually just goes and finds a staircase to sit on.

Divorced parents. She bounces between houses quite a lot.

Spends most of her free time at the gym. Buffstrid canon in modern times too people!!

Snotlout -

Got massively bullied in year 7 and like half way through year 8 he switched the fuck up and became a fucking menace. Bro was NOT playing.

Rides horses. Hookfang is a horse.

Is lowkey fucking amazing at maths but he's scared to put effort into it cuz he thinks he'll get made fun of.

When him and Astrid become friends they actually bond over being the 'problem' kids. Though Astrid is a bit more than Snotlout.

Constantly in corner shops. He loves buying overpriced american sweets.

Fishlegs -

Actually very rarely gets bullied cuz no one knows who the fuck he is (Until the gang all become friends, then people DEFINIATELY know who they all are.)

Loves the three sciences. Even physics. He actively enjoys doing physics.

Kinda not really a teacher's pet. He won't tell on you but he certainly won't partake in whatever it is you're doing on your phone in the middle of a very important english lesson.

Loves shakepeare.

Him and Snotlout (When the gang all become friends) set up one of those stupid cliche 'pay me and I'll do your homework' things in the boys toilets at school. Snotlout did the discreate advertising and Fishlegs did the homework. They split profits 50/50 and they both found it so funny that it actually worked. And then they got busted by the head teacher and that's the first time fishlegs ever got detention.

Ruffnut -

Local school fact file. She can tell you every single detail about the place. Wanna know when that one piece of gum you just accidentally touched was stuck to the table? She'll fucking know.

Giver her £10 and she will eat literally anything.

Actually CAN'T get bullied cuz she just doesn't give a fuck

Very good at english/languages

Has never done homework a day in her life. Never will.

Brings random live animals into school every now and again. Much to the genuine delight of Hiccup.

Drives her parents' car somewhat regularly, despite not being old enough and not having a licence.

Tuffnut -

Can tell you the translation of ANY word into French. This guy is a MACHINE in French lessons.

brings full sized nerf water guns into school.

Chicken is canon. Ruff and Tuff share their bedroom with Chicken.

Never ever sits normally. Always swinging on his chair or sitting cross legged.

Chronic beanie wearer

[moonsaver]

Wait listen‐totally out of the blue but modern!au atla in a high-school or college setting. Zuko x reader btw

Listen listen. Zuko drops down from being a cool popular kid after he joins the gaang,but also? He's kinda the school's crush. Like yes, most of azula's fans and many kids in general from the fire nation dont like Zuko anymore, but many people develop a crush on him. And he's so painfully oblivious to it.

And the gaang is always making fun of his loser aesthetic, posting him on social media and forcing him to actually start using his social media account. He never does use it much except for reposting photos and statuses his friends have on there.

Until you.

He was especially struggling with a problem and awkwardly asked you for help. You were technically just polite out of general respect but you were... really nice. And he groans into his pillow at night when he realizes that small interaction has an irrational grip on him. To make it worse? Sokka from the other side of the classroom saw it and made it his personal mission to track down your socials.

With a lot of pain and difficulty (none, actually. Turns out Suki is quite media-literate), the gaang manages to find your account and send it to the group chat. For once, Zuko's.. actually trying to do normal social media things. Some of them start bickering on whether or not Zuko should send a follow request, but by the time they're done, you've already accepted it, and Zuko curiously scrolls through your profile. The gaang frantically tells him not to like your old photos, he's confused at the concept, but begrudgingly listens anyway. If this happens when they're all meeting up, then they huddle around Zuko and watch the tiny screen and point out all things about your little profile, and ogle at every tidbit of your life. If it happens when they're all at home, then they collectively cyberstalk you, sending various screenshots to the groupchat and discussing about you.

You on the other hand, only know Zuko as the kind of cute, awkward guy who needed your help with a math problem. You wondered if you messed something up while explaining the problem to him, and then brushed it off and forgot about it entirely until you woke up one day and noticed his entire friend group had viewed your status. A few of them had even liked it. (Ahem, Aang and Toph).

It's not soon until one of them actually comes up and talks to you, because Zuko is deathly afraid of messing things up, and he stutters so much everytime Sokka makes him practice talking to you, it's like a lost cause. Of course, in the end, it's Katara and Suki to the rescue! All three of you get along surprisingly well. It's only a matter of time until you actually get added to the friend group. Until then, maybe pretend Zuko's acting skills are believable as he asks for your help with the simplest problems, to borrow your stationaries, and make awkward small talk. You go along with it anyway. He's cute.

[ashwhowrites]

For a request, thinking about reader who is new in town. Meets Eddie then becomes his tutor for a specific subject. Eddie is infatuated and what starts as tutoring lessons turns into movie/pizza nights. He confesses about his crush on them, so does reader but they makes a proposition that they can go on a date if he passes their first exam. Until then, there is yearning, impatience, and SO much teasing but it all pays off when Eddie gets a C+ on the exam. As soon as the bell rings he sprints to reader in excitement and proudly shows off his exam. Reader knew he would pass and brings him a sweet treat they baked themselves and ends up asking him to dinner as a celebration as their date. Not sure of this is any good but it's my current daydream

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Tutor Tutor

Y/N hated that she had to be the new kid during her senior year. The pressure to make new friends, join clubs, and do everything to make her college resume stand out. It didn't take long for teachers to realize how smart she was. Her math teacher, Mr. Miller, was impressed by how easy math seemed to be for her. He placed her in his higher class and offered an opportunity to grow her college resume.

And that's how she became a tutor for Eddie. Eddie always struggled with math and if continued to fail the tests, he would fail the class.

Eddie was slightly embarrassed to need a tutor, but if it helped him graduate on time he would do it.

He sat at a table in the library in the back. He drummed his fingers on his textbook as he looked around the room. He had no idea who his tutor was, he didn't recognize the name Mr. Miller gave.

"Are you Eddie?"

Eddie looked to his right to see a girl standing. Books in her arms as she smiled. Eddie was in awe of how gorgeous she was, and he knew he had never seen her before; he would have remembered her face.

"Yeah that's me," Eddie said, he got up and pulled out her seat. She blushed at the gesture and sat down.

Eddie sat next to her and tried to shake away his nerves.

"I'm Y/N, and I'm here to help you! Feel free to ask questions, ask me to stop and explain. We will go at your pace." She explained, Eddie watched her mouth move but he had no idea what she said.

The way the afternoon sun shined through the window and landed on her face. Highlighting her like an angel as she pushed her hair behind her ears.

Since then, Eddie has been smitten with her.

~~~

After a month of tutoring, Eddie and Y/N found themselves hanging out during their study sessions. They still focused on the math, but after about an hour they would get sidetracked. Eddie would order pizza and turn on a movie, claiming he needed a brain break.

It became something they always did, and each movie brought them closer together....on the couch.

Y/N and Eddie grew comfortable with each other and even snuggled sometimes. She'd yawn and lean her head on his shoulder as the final credits played. He'd tease her for being tired but always let her lay there until she was ready to go home.

Eddie started to really like her and it scared him. He focused as hard as he could during their lessons, but the smell of her perfume and her body against his as she leaned over his shoulder to help. She made his head spin.

"So x is?"

"7?"

"Yes!" Y/N cheered as she pressed a kiss against his cheek before she sat back down. She didn't realize what she did, but Eddie did. His cheeks instantly became warm and he still felt the ghost of her lips. He bit his lip as he tried to keep off a cheesy grin.""Yes!" Y/N cheered as she pressed a kiss against his cheek before she sat back down. She didn't realize what she did, but Eddie did. His cheeks instantly became warm and he still felt the ghost of her lips. He bit his lip as he tried to keep off a cheesy grin.

"Can I ask you something?" Eddie asked as he looked up at her. She made a humming sound and gave him all her attention.

"Can I take you out on a date?"

Y/N blushed as she bit back her excitement

Eddie was nervous as he waited for her reply but he could see a smile making its way on her lips.

"How about this? If you pass your next math test, I'll let you take me on a date." She smiled, her hand landing on his.

He smiled as he felt her skin on his.

"I'm passing that test," Eddie promised.

~~~

They had a week before the test, and keeping their feelings out of the way was difficult.

Eddie focused as much as he could on studying, but she enjoyed touching him and making him twitch. She'd rub his shoulders, run her hands down his arms, and draw circles on his hand.

He always teased back. His hand slipped into hers as he walked her to her car. He kissed her goodbye, inches away from her lips. He'd wrap her in his jacket when she shivered.

It was a game for both of them, racing to the finish line. Eddie needed to pass that test.

"Final score is a C-" Y/N said as she passed Eddie back his practice test.

"I passed!" Eddie cheered, and Y/N smiled in return. She wasn't tutoring him to get an A or even a B, just simply above an F.

"Do exactly what you did on Friday, and you'll have yourself a date," Y/N teased as she leaned in. Her lips were inches away from his lips. He felt a whimper in his throat that he refused to let out. He licked his lips and leaned in. He watched her eyes and lips as he went to close the gap between them.

"Nah uh, not until Friday." She whispered as she smirked, her fingers pushed against his lips to push him back in his seat.

She was going to be the death of him.

~~~

Eddie shook the table as he waited for the teacher to pass out the tests. He felt like he knew enough to not fail, and would secure that date. But he was also terrified because if he failed, he failed her.

"Munson, nice job." Mr. Miller said as he handed over the paper. A big C+ written in red ink with a huge circle.

"No fucking way, I did it." Eddie breathed out in disbelief. The bell rang and Eddie yanked his backpack off the chair and ran.

He ran straight to her locker, he didn't care how many people he ran into and all the annoyed comments sent his way. His focus was on her and that was all he cared about.

Y/N was digging inside her locker when Eddie popped up behind her. He grabbed her arm and turned her around, she gasped as he captured her lips in a kiss. A kiss that had been brewing for weeks. She kissed back as she smiled. It was even better than she imagined. He held her waist and controlled every aspect of the kiss.

He pulled away with a huge smile as he showed her the test, she needed a second to snap back into reality.

"I passed!" He cheered, the paper in her face.

"I knew you could do it!" Y/N praised as she pulled him into a tight hug. "I have a gift for you."

"My date?" Eddie asked, but Y/N just laughed and turned around.

She grabbed a container and placed it in his hands.

"Chocolate chip, your favorite." She smiled as Eddie was in awe.

"You made me cookies?" Eddie was shocked, he never had someone do something so sweet for him.

"I'm proud of you. You worked very hard and it paid off."

"I think I might love you," Eddie joked, but a part of it felt like the truth.

"Let's go on that date first, Munson." She laughed, ignoring how the comment made her heart race and her palms sweat.

"M'lady," Eddie said as he offered his arm, Y/N smiled as she hooked her arm with his.

Math might have become Eddie's favorite subject.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[magic-shop-stories]

how would bts (ot7) kids react to them being consistently forgotten by their dad ? they would pay attention to their other siblings or their job? please make it really angsty with a fluffy ending only for the kids

💌 Reply:

Thank you so much for the request, I hope that's what you imagined. I loved the idea ... should really turn this into full imagines some day - feel free to reach out if you want to be tagged Lots of Love - C

NAMJOON

silent cries

intellectual withdrawal

nature as a bridge

reparative vulnerability

HOW HIS CHILD SHOWS THEIR PAIN

Indirect Communication

Leaves a dog-eared poetry book on his desk, open to Lang Leav’s “Lost” with lines highlighted:

“You were here, and then you weren’t / And I’ve been waiting ever since.”

Artistic Rebellion

sketches family portraits where Namjoon is a shadow or blurred figure

labels them “Appa’s Priorities (A Study in Absence)”

Academic Overcompensation

wins a science fair with a project on “The Physics of Emotional Distance”

calculates how often Namjoon misses dinner

doesn’t tell him about the award

Quiet Withdrawal

stops asking for help with homework, even when struggling

when Namjoon offers, they reply:

“It’s okay. Google is faster.”

Sibling Contrast

watches him beam at their sibling’s piano recital

slips out to bury their face in the family dog’s fur

“He remembers their C major, but forgets my B+.”

NAMJOON’S FIRST REACTION

Moment of Realization

finds the science fair project while cleaning

stares at the equations mapping his absences

hands shaking

his throat tightens at the footnote: 

“Hypothesis: If love = attention, then Appa’s love approaches zero.”

Immediate Response

runs to their room, knocking frantically

“Can we talk? Please.” 

voice cracks

Internal Turmoil

Self-Accusation

“I’m a hypocrite. Preached ‘love is a verb,’ but failed to act.”

Memory Flash

remembers missing their 10th birthday for a UN panel

they’d said:

 “It’s okay, Appa. The world needs you.” 

he’d hugged them, not realizing it was a goodbye to expectations

Fear

“Have I turned into the distant fathers I criticized in my lyrics?”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Apology (Namjoon Style/ No Excuses):

kneels beside their bed at 3 a.m.

voice raw

“I weaponized your empathy. You deserved to be selfish, to scream at me. I’m… I’m so sorry.”

Child’s Reaction

probably silent tears

they whisper -“You didn’t see me.”

Radical Prioritization

Cancels Commitments

postpones album deadlines, surprising his team

“My masterpiece isn’t music, it’s the kids I’m failing.”

”Appa’s Reset”

takes them camping, no phones

at the campfire, he admits:

“I don’t know how to fix this. Will you teach me?”

Rituals of Presence

Daily Check-Ins

sets a 7 p.m. alarm labeled ”Breathe. Listen. Be.”

asks: “What’s something I missed about you today?”

Shared Journal

buys a leather notebook

writes first entry: 

“Day 1: I learned you hate mint chocolate too. How did I not know?”

TYPICAL MOMENTS & DIALOGUE

Past Failures (Angst)

Missed Milestone

they timidly handed him a poem titled “The Invisible Child” during a VLive (don't argue with me it will always be VLive!)

he’d absentmindedly tucked it under his laptop

“Later, yeah?” 

it’s still there, gathering dust

Distracted Praise

when they aced a math test, he’d patted their head while typing lyrics

“Smart kid. Takes after me.”  (they’d flinched)

Reparative Actions (Fluff)

Lecture Crashing

shows up unannounced to their school

embarrassing them with a ”Proud of You” banner during finals week

Vulnerable Confessions

hot cocoa

“I’m scared I’ll never catch up to who you’ve become without me. Let me try.”

Signature Phrases

Growth-Ownership

“I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m asking to earn it.”

Nature Metaphors

“You’re my redwood, growing tall while I wasn’t looking. Let me be your roots again.”

LONG-TERM CHANGES

Work-Life Boundaries

institutes “Golden Hour” = 4–6 p.m.

daily, no emails

colleagues know not to call; his ringtone during those hours is “Family First (feat. his child)” 

Visible Reminders

wears a bracelet they made, beads spelling “SEE ME.”

Advocacy Shift

launches a campaign: “Present Fathers, Present Futures.” 

quotes his child in speeches

“Love isn’t a noun if it’s not a verb.”

Self-Forgiveness Journey

therapy sessions focused on “breaking the cycle of intellectualized detachment.” 

journals: 

“I can’t philosophize my way into their childhood. I have to live it.”

ENDING

months later, hia child adds a new page to the shared journal

“Day 94: Appa cried when I said ‘hi’ to a fan who recognized me for once. P.S. Mint chocolate still sucks.”

Namjoon tapes the page to his studio wall, beside a dried leaf from their camping trip

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

JIN

humor as armor

performative neglect

culinary reconciliation

grand gestures

love in laughter

HOW HIS CHILD SHOWS THEIR PAIN

Over-the-Top Antics

stages elaborate pranks (glitter bombs, fake spiders) to force Jin’s attention

when he laughs but doesn’t engage, they mutter:

“Guess I’m just the court jester, not the prince.”

Satirical Skits

films TikTok parodies titled “World’s Okayest Dad!”

exaggerating Jin’s distracted nods and half-hearted high-fives

tags him, but he only reacts with a crying-laugh emoji

Food Sabotage

burns his favorite snack and leaves the charred remains on his gaming chair

“If you’re gonna ignore me, at least taste my rage.”

Sarcasm as Shielding

responds to Jin’s absentminded praise with biting wit

Jin: “You aced your test? My genes are unbeatable!” Child: “Yeah, too bad your time isn’t.”

Hidden Vulnerability

practices stand-up routines in the mirror

tears mixing with punchlines

“My dad’s so busy, he thinks ‘family time’ is liking my Instagram story!”

JIN’S FIRST REACTION

Moment of Realization

overhears their late-night comedy rehearsal

freezes outside their door at the line:

“Appa’s love language? Seen but not heard.” 

his smile collapses

Immediate Response

bursts in, still in his pajamas, and blurts:

“Yah! Since when are you funnier than me?!”

then hugs them so tight they drop to the floor

Internal Turmoil

Guilt Masked as Humor

“I’m the Worldwide Handsome dad but made my kid feel invisible. Pathetic.”

Memory Flash

remembers their fifth birthday when he’d joked:

“I’ll always be your main character!” 

now they’re a cameo in his life

Fear

“What if they stop trying to make me laugh? What if they stop trying… period?”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Apology (Jin Style)

arranges a “Roast Battle” in the living room

lets his child tear into him mercilessly

taking each joke like a punch

ends with: “You win. Now roast me for forgetting your fencing match. I deserve it.”

Child’s Reaction

laughs until they cry, then whispers:

“I just wanted you to stay.”

Culinary Confessions

”Apology Banquet”

cooks their favorite meal (galbi tang) together

says, “Love’s like soup, needs time to simmer. I rushed us. Let me fix it.”

Food Metaphors

points at the marinade

“See how the meat soaks up the flavor? I need to soak up you. Teach me.”

Scheduled Silliness

”Jin & Me Time”

blocks weekly slots for absurd activities

karaoke battles, DIY spa days (face masks made of literally anything), and “Dad Joke Olympics.”

Public Shame

posts cringey childhood photos with captions: 

“This is what happens when you ignore your kids. Don’t be me.”

TYPICAL MOMENTS & DIALOGUE

Past Failures (Angst)

Missed Recital

they performed a comedy set at school

Jin arrived late, clapping wildly, but they’d already left the stage

found them backstage, fake-smiling

“It’s okay, Appa. Your fans need you more.”

Distracted Praise

when they won a cooking contest, Jin joked

“Took after me, huh?”  they snapped: “No. Mom taught me.”

Reparative Actions (Fluff)

Surprise Cameo

sneaks into their school play rehearsal dressed as a giant broccoli

delivers their forgotten line, then bows

“Your spotlight, not mine.”

Vulnerable Confessions

during a Mario Kart race:

“I’m scared I’ll never be as cool as you think I am. But I’ll keep crashing until I get it right.”

Signature Phrases

Self-Deprecating Truths

“I’m a joke, but you’re the punchline I didn’t earn.”

Culinary Wisdom

“Love’s not a microwave meal. It’s a feast. Let me set the table.”

LONG-TERM CHANGES

Prioritizing Presence

”No-Phone Zones”

designates dinner table and game nights as tech-free

if he slips, his child gets to throw his phone in the pool (it’s happened twice)

Visible Reminders

wears a custom apron they gifted him:

“Appa Chef: Seasoned with Regret, Spiced with Love.”

Advocacy Shift

launches a series: “Cooking with My Kid” 

episode 1 title: “Humble Pie: A Recipe for Redemption.”

Humor as Healing

therapy focus: “Laughter as a Bridge, Not a Wall.” 

journals

“I used jokes to hide. Now I’ll use them to hold.”

ENDING

months later, his child ambushes him with a prank

replaces his gaming headset mic with a kazoo

when he fake-yells:

“Yah! How dare you!”  they smirk: “You’re welcome. Now you have to listen to me.”

Jin starts a TikTok duet with them, caption: 

“My kid’s the main character. I’m just the comic relief (and I’m okay with that).”

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

YOONGI

silent rebellion

unspoken resentment

musical catharsis

pragmatic devotion

echoes of absence

HOW HIS CHILD SHOWS THEIR PAIN

Hyper-Independence

teaches themselves music production using old equipment Yoongi discarded

creates haunting, minimalist tracks titled “Ghost Notes”

each melody a coded cry for attention

never shares them

Academic Overdrive

skips meals to perfect a coding project analyzing “Patterns of Parental Absence in High-Achieving Households.” 

submits it anonymously to a journal

wins an award Yoongi only discovers via a forwarded email

Cold Courtesy

calls him “Mr. Min” in public

when asked why, they shrug

“You’re more a CEO than a dad. Should I curtsy?”

Shadowed Resentment

recreates Yoongi’s studio in their closet

tiny desk, secondhand MIDI keyboard, soundproof foam stolen from his trash

leaves the door ajar, hoping he’ll notice

he doesn’t

Sarcastic Sacrifice

donates their birthday money to an orphanage

leaves the receipt on his desk:

 “Invest in someone who’ll use it.”

YOONGI’S REALIZATION/ FIRST REACTION

Breaking Point

stumbles into their closet studio post-midnight, half-asleep

sees their tracklist: 

“Track 12: The Sound of an Empty Chair.” 

plays it

the melody mirrors his own “First Love”

but distorted, hollow

Immediate Response

storms into their room, voice trembling

“Why didn’t you tell me?”  they retort: “Would you have listened?”

Internal Turmoil

Guilt as Fuel

“I built empires to give them everything. Gave them nothing.”

Memory Flash

recalls their first piano recital at 7

he’d sent a congratulatory text from a conference

they’d replied: 

“Thx. Mom recorded it. Watch it never.”

Fear

“They’re me. Proud, stubborn, bleeding in silence. And I taught them that.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Apology (Yoongi Style)

deletes all his unreleased tracks

replaces them with their “Ghost Notes” 

crediting them as “Producer: My Regret" 

leaves his laptop open for them to find

Child’s Reaction

slams his door

“I don’t want your pity streams!”  he shouts back, “It’s not pity. It’s a truce.”

Radical Transparency

”Business Proposal”

drafts a contract: 

“Min Family Terms: 1. I work 9–5. 2. You get 6–9. 3. Breach = I retire.” 

signs it in blood-red ink

Studio Integration

moves their closet setup into his studio

“Your corner. Your rules. I’m just the intern.”

Unflinching Acts

Public Shaming

cancels a collab with a top artist

posts: “Priorities shifted. My kid’s dropping a mixtape.”

Vulnerability in Code

rewrites their neglected coding project

adding a subroutine: 

“IF Dad = ‘Absent’ THEN Alert: ‘Yah, Min Yoongi, get your ass home.’”

TYPICAL MOMENTS & DIALOGUE

Past Failures (Angst)

Missed Milestone

they coded an app tracking his travel days

sent him a notification: 

“Day 107: Still CEO of Missing Dad Inc. Congrats!”  he’d texted: “Clever. Proud of you.” 

they blocked his number for a week

Empty Praise

when they aced a music theory exam, he’d said:

“Good job. Let’s collab sometime.”  they’d hissed, “I’m not one of your bandmates.” knowing it will hurt

Reparative Actions (Fluff)

Midnight Session

teaches them to sample the sound of his old Hyundai

the engine that once kept him from them

“This noise? It’s my shame. Make art from it.”

Blunt Confession

over ramen: 

“I thought success was my apology. It was just my excuse.”

Signature Phrases

Raw Truths

“I’d rather hear you scream than starve in silence.”

Musical Metaphors

“You’re my bridge verse. The part I skipped. Let me loop it now.”

LONG-TERM CHANGES

Structural Sacrifice

”CEO Hours”

limits work to ~40 hours/week (as much as possible, but he's really trying hard)

delegates the rest

his team mocks him: “Dad-Joon 2.0.”

he wears it as a badge

Visible Reminders

tattoos their “Ghost Notes” sheet music on his forearm

“My greatest hit.”

Advocacy Through Art

produces a documentary

“The Beats Between Us.” 

interviews fathers (in the industry)

ends with his child’s track: “Empty Chair (Full Heart Remix)”

Emotional Pragmatism

therapy focus: “Silence as a Weapon, Presence as a Balm.” 

journals: 

“I don’t know love songs. But I’ll learn theirs.”

ENDING

months later, they release a joint EP

“Dissonance to Harmony.”

final track samples Yoongi’s voice mail from Day 107: 

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m...” cut with their laugh

at the listening party, Yoongi murmurs:

“You’re the CEO now.”  they smirk: “Cool. You’re fired.”

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

J-HOPE

perfectionism as a cry for help

choreographed neglect

fractured sunshine

healing through rhythm

HOW HIS CHILD SHOWS THEIR PAIN

Obsessive Achievement

creates color-coded schedules mirroring J-Hope’s

slotting in self-imposed “training” from 5 AM

dance drills, volunteer hours, straight-A study marathons

tags him in Instagram posts:

“7 AM: Morning Run (Faster Than Appa’s Regrets!).” 

he likes them, never comments

Physical Collapse

faints during a dance practice at school

when teachers call J-Hope, he’s in a meeting

they wake up to a text: 

“Proud of your hustle! 💪”

Smiling Mask

practices grins in the mirror, reciting: 

“If I’m perfect, he’ll stay.” 

develops TMJ from clenched jaws

Passive-Aggressive Perfection

gifts him a mug filled with espresso beans

counted to match the days he missed dinner

Spreadsheet Resentment

charts his empty promises in a Google Doc titled:

“Hope vs. Reality.” 

shares it with siblings: 

“His ‘I’ll be there’ has a 12% accuracy rate. Optimistic!”

J-HOPE’S REALIZATION/ FIRST REACTION

Breaking Point

discovers their hidden Tumblr blog: 

“Dancing on Eggshells.” 

a post reads: 

“I’m his shadow, stretching to touch him, but he’s always chasing light I can’t reflect.” 

attached: a video of their fainting spell set to “MAMA” on loop

Immediate Response

cancels a photoshoot

sprinting to their school

finds them rehearsing alone

ankle wrapped

“Why didn’t you stop?”  they snap, “You didn’t start!”

Internal Turmoil

Guilt as Choreography

“I taught them to dance through pain, not to scream from it.”

Memory Flash

their first dance recital at 6

he’d video-called from a shoot: 

“Appa’s watching! Nail that spin!” 

they’d spun until they fell, sobbing

he’d laughed: “That’s my trooper!”

Fear

“I’m the sun, but I burned my own garden.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Apology (J-Hope Style)

hosts a “Dance Court” in their living room

lets his child judge him as he performs their routines

stumbling, sweating, almost tearing his ACL

ends with a bow

“You’re the teacher now. Fail me.”

Child’s Reaction

“You’re… terrible.” 

he grins, tearful

“Finally something I can’t half-ass.”

Radical Restructuring

”Sunset Law”

no work after 6 PM

installs a Disney-themed alarm

“Step back, Appa! Your Elsa needs you!” 

forces staff to call their older sibling if he breaks it

Collaborative Choreo

co-creates a dance titled “Broken Beats” 

his move: collapsing to his knees

theirs: rising alone

Public Accountability

VLive Confession

crying, no makeup

“I’m BTS’s hope, but I broke my own. If you see me working past 6, throw eggs.” 

ARMY sends egg emojis for weeks

Merch Redemption

releases “Hobi’s Humble Hoodies” 

with slogans

“I FORGOT MY KID’S RECITAL AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY APOLOGY.”

TYPICAL MOMENTS & DIALOGUE

Past Failures (Angst)

Missed Milestone

they won a dance battle with a routine mocking his catchphrases

“I’m your hope, you’re my joke!” 

he’d reposted it with 💯 emojis, oblivious

Empty Encouragement

when they sprained their wrist, he’d cheered:

“Pain is growth!”  they’d hissed: “So is parenting.”

Reparative Actions (Fluff)

”Imperfection Day”

forces them to binge-watch bad movies

eat junk food

dance off-beat

“You’re allowed to suck. I’m proof!”

Blunt Confession

during a nail-painting session: 

“I thought love was a performance. You’re my standing ovation.”

Signature Phrases

Structured Love

“I’ll schedule my soul if it means clocking into yours.”

Rhythmic Truths

“You’re my bridge, not my backup dancer. Let me follow your beat.”

LONG-TERM CHANGES

Systemic Shifts

”Hope’s Hours”

restructures his company/team to prioritize family time (I imagine him opening a dance school)

employees get “Kid Credits”

leave bonuses for school plays

Visible Reminders

wears mismatched socks they pick daily

“My dress code? Whatever says ‘I’m here.’”

Advocacy Through Art

choreographs speech on work-life balance

ends with their “Broken Beats” routine

trends as #HumbleHobi

Emotional Re-education

therapy focus: “Joy as a Journey, Not a Performance.” 

journals: 

“I don’t need to shine. I need to reflect.”

ENDING

months later, they co-host a dance workshop for neglected kids

his child demonstrates a move: 

“The Appa Apology Shuffle.” 

J-Hope messes up, laughing

“See? Progress!”

they gift him a new mug: “World’s Best Dancer Dad"

he never drinks from a different mug again

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

JIMIN

emotional sabotage

mirroring abandonment

performative self-destruction

tactile reconciliation

HOW HIS CHILD SHOWS THEIR PAIN

Self-Destructive Perfectionism

too much skincare, bleaches their hair, starves themselves to look "idol-thin"

mocking Jimin’s past diets

posts edited selfies: 

“Appa’s Mini™️ (Just as Hollow!)"

Physical Rebellion

gets a tattoo of a wilting rose over their ribcage

where Jimin’s “Nevermind” ink sits

when he gasps, they smirk: 

“Yours is about pain. Mine’s about yours.”

Artistic Screams

writes slam poetry titled:

“Love is a Contact Sport (But You Forgot to Touch Me).” 

performs it at open mics

tagging venues he used to go to

he never shows

Weaponized Affection

flings hugs at everyone but Jimin

when he reaches out, they dodge

“Careful, Appa. Your fans might get jealous.”

Guilt Trips via Proxy

befriends a classmate’s dad who coaches soccer

posts pics with him captioned

“Found someone who notices when I score.”

JIMIN’S REALIZATION

Breaking Point

finds their poetry notebook hidden under their bed

a page titled “Choreography of Absence” 

details his missed milestones in dance terms:

Pirouette: Dad missed my recital. Grand Jeté: Dad jumped over my graduation. Collapse: Me, always.

Immediate Response

drives to their school

storms into the cafeteria

demands: “Why didn’t you fight me?!”  they retort: “You weren’t there to fight.”

Internal Turmoil

Guilt as Choreography

“I taught them to shrink their pain into pretty shapes. Now they’re dancing my sins back at me.”

Memory Flash

their first ballet solo at 8

he’d sent a bouquet with a note: 

“Appa’s stuck in Tokyo. Dance like I’m watching!” 

they’d burned the note years later

Fear

“They’re my reflection, shattered because I couldn’t stand my own.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Apology (Jimin Style)

performs their slam poem at a BTS concert

stumbles through tears, mic shaking

“This… this is my kid’s voice. Listen.” 

ends crumpled onstage, whispering: 

“I’m sorry I made you scream alone.”

Child’s Reaction

skips school to watch the livestream

texts: “You looked pathetic.”  he replies: “I am.”

Radical Vulnerability

”Touch Therapy”

institutes daily 20 minute cuddle sessions

no talking, just holding

first time, they’re stiff as mannequins

by week three, they claw his shirt, sobbing

Public Shaming

posts unedited selfies

dark circles, no filter

caption: “This is the face of a dad who failed. My kid deserves better.”

Artistic Reparations

Collaborative Tattoo

adds a blooming rose next to their wilting one

the artist inks “Water Me” beneath it

Dance Duet

choreographs a routine where he follows their lead

at the finale, they push him away

he crawls back

repeats until they let him stay

TYPICAL MOMENTS & DIALOGUE

Past Failures (Angst)

Missed Milestone

they starred in The Nutcracker

Jimin sent a backstage VIP pass for his manager

they gave it to a janitor

Empty Affection

when they fractured their wrist, he’d kissed it and chirped:

“All better!”  they’d snarled, “You’re not a prince. You’re a stranger.”

Reparative Actions (Fluff)

Midnight Kitchen Confession

makes them hot chocolate

hands trembling

“I’m scared to touch you. What if I break us more?”  they slam their mug: “Then glue me!”

Vulnerable Ritual

forces them to style his hair before work

“You’re my mirror now. Show me who I need to be.”

Signature Phrases

Raw Pleas

"Hate me, hit me, anything, but don’t starve silently.”

Dance Metaphors

“You’re my center. I spun too far. Pull me back.”

LONG-TERM CHANGES

Systemic Shifts

”Jimin’s Pause”

adds a clause in his contracts: 

“No schedules during Kid’s Events. Penalty: Forfeit entire fee.” 

labels grumble; ARMY calls it “The Papa Clause.”

Visible Reminders

wears a necklace they designed: 

“CHOKE ON MY ABSENCE” in tiny beads

Advocacy Through Art

releases a solo song: 

“8th Member.” 

lyrics: 

“I built seven worlds / But let yours crumble / Forgive me— / I’m just your apprentice.” 

dedicates it at awards shows

Emotional Rebirth

therapy focus: “Affection as Accountability, Not Performance.” 

journals: 

“Love isn’t a stage. It’s the crowd I neglected to see.”

ENDING

months later, they co-choreograph a duet for a charity gala

mid-performance, Jimin lets them drop from a lift

instead of catching them, he falls too

they land tangled, laughing

the video trends as “#FlawedFlight.” 

they caption it: 

“Perfect is boring. This? This is us.”

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

TAEHYUNG

artistic abandonment

vintage vengeance

escapism as rebellion

Jungkook as a mirror

poetic reconciliation

HOW HIS CHILD SHOWS THEIR PAIN

Symbolic Sabotage

repurposes Taehyung’s vintage film cameras into planters

stuffing them with cacti

leaves them on his desk with notes: 

“Since you’d rather focus on dead things than living ones.”

Artistic Mockery

redraws his iconic “Singularity” concept

replacing Taehyung’s blindfold with Jungkook’s bandana

tags him: 

“New muse. Better uncle. @jungkook”

Jungkook’s Shadow

shows up at Jungkook’s gym daily

lifting weights in oversized hoodies

posts mirror selfies: 

“Uncle Kook’s protegé > Dad’s props.”

Emotional Escapism

runs away to Jungkook’s apartment

blasting “Euphoria” at 3 AM

when Jungkook answers, they snap: 

“You’re cooler anyway. At least you finish games you start.”

Theatrical Exit

leaves a film reel on Taehyung’s pillow

a montage of Jungkook teaching them guitar, cooking ramen, laughing

ends with text: 

“DIRECTOR’S CUT: The Dad I Wish I Had.”

TAEHYUNG’S REALIZATION/ FIRST REACTION

Breaking Point

Jungkook forwards their texts: 

“Uncle, can I stay? Dad’s too busy being a concept to be a person.” 

attached: a Polaroid of them asleep on Jungkook’s couch, clutching his hoodie

Immediate Response

drives to Jungkook’s in last night’s shooting makeup

smudged and frantic

bangs on the door: 

“They’re mine. Give them back.”  Jungkook blocks him: “Not until you earn them.”

Internal Turmoil

Art as Armor

“I turned love into aesthetics. Now my kid’s a moodboard of my failures.”

Memory Flash

their 10th birthday

Taehyung styled a lavish “Vintage Wonderland” party

missed it for a photoshoot

they’d worn his outfit, smeared it in cake

texted: “Now it’s art.”

Fear

“They see my soul as a gallery, all observation, no touch.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Apology (Taehyung Style)

”Empty Gallery” Stunt

rents a museum

fills it with frames of his absence

blurry photos of their back, half-eaten meals, voicemail transcripts

invites them via Jungkook: 

“Curate your pain. I’ll sit in it.”

Child’s Reaction

brings a hammer, smashes a frame labeled “First Steps (Dad: Not Present).” 

Taehyung whispers: 

“Break it all. I’ll pay to rebuild.”

Radical Rebirth

”Unfiltered” Project

destroys his vintage wardrobe, livestreaming it

“This isn’t art. You are.” 

lets them pick his outfits for a month

even if it’s Jungkook’s gym tees

Jungkook’s Role

forces Jungkook to chaperone their “Dad Dates.”

they hike

Taehyung struggling to keep up

Jungkook smirks:

“Old man. Should’ve stayed in your beret.”

Tactile Truths

Midnight Collages

sneaks into their room

leaves hand-cut paper hearts on their pillow

each with a regret: 

“Missed recital,” “Forgot phobia of spiders,” “Stole your laugh for a song.”

Public Accountability

changes his Instagram bio to “Recovering Aesthetic Addict.” 

posts unedited videos of their fights: 

“This isn’t V. This is Dad.”

TYPICAL MOMENTS & DIALOGUE

Past Failures (Angst)

Missed Milestone

they starred in a school play

Taehyung sent a theatrical bouquet but attended a gallery opening (contract)

they left the flowers on Jungkook’s doorstep: 

“Here’s your prop.”

Aesthetic Wounds

when they begged for a normal family photo, he styled a surrealist shoot

they scratched their face out

"Finally, your masterpiece.”

Reparative Actions (Fluff)

”Ugly Art” Day

forces them to make ”the worst craft possible” together

glues macaroni to a thrift store painting

Taehyung hangs it in his studio: “Our Mona Lisa.”

Raw Confession

during a karaoke duet of “Winter Bear,” he ad-libs: 

“I’d freeze every season just to thaw your heart.” 

they roll their eyes but lean into his shoulder

Signature Phrases

Poetic Penance

“I’ll burn every camera if you’ll be my muse again.”

Vintage Vows

“You’re not a concept. You’re my cure.”

LONG-TERM CHANGES

Systemic Shifts

”V’s Vow” 

caps photoshoots at 12/year

donates vintage collection to a youth art program

“Create your own lens, kids. Mine’s cracked.”

Visible Reminders

wears a keychain they made

a smashed camera lens encased in resin. “My favorite scar.”

Advocacy Through Art

curates an exhibit: “Fatherhood Unframed.” 

features messy, unposed photos of dads

his contribution: a polaroid of their macaroni art

Emotional Renaissance

therapy focus: “Love as a Verb, Not a Vignette.” 

journals: 

“I used to collect moments. Now I live them.”

ENDING

months later, they co-host a “Trash Art Fair” in their backyard.

Taehyung wears a shirt they tie-dyed (badly)

Jungkook heckles: 

“Looks like a unicorn puked on you.”  they retort: “Better than your swole aesthetic.”

Taehyung gifts them a rebuilt camera

now a music box playing ”Winter Bear.” 

inside: “For capturing us, unfiltered.”

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

JUNGKOOK

Silent endurance

idolization turned resentment

physical overcompensation

intergenerational healing

sweat-soaked apologies

HOW HIS CHILD SHOWS THEIR PAIN

Athletic Overdrive

trains relentlessly in boxing, soccer, and weightlifting

chasing Jungkook’s records

posts workout videos tagged “#NotYourShadow”

filmed at 5 AM in his empty home gym

Injury Ignorance

sprains their wrist/ankle but hides it

wrapping it in his tape

when he asks why, they snap: 

“You’d only notice if I bled on your trophies.”

Hero Worship Sabotage

wears his Golden Clothes MV outfit to school

then dyes it black

posts: “Rebranding Dad’s legacy. Who’s next?”

Hyung Hopping

adopts Yoongi’s studio as a sanctuary

brings him convenience store coffee

begging: “Teach me to produce. I want a real skill, not just Dad’s abs.”

Sibling Rivalry

challenges their (older) siblings to push-up contests

snarling: “Winner gets his attention for a week.”

JUNGKOOK’S REALIZATION/ FIRST REACTION

Breaking Point

Yoongi texts him a voice memo of the child crying over a beat

“I’m just his rep count, something to finish fast.” 

attached: a photo of their bleeding knuckles gripping Jungkook’s dumbbells he was looking for

Immediate Response

drives to Yoongi’s studio

slamming the door

sees them asleep at the mixing board

hoodie stained with ramen and tears

“I’m… I’m the villain, aren’t I?”  Yoongi grunts: “Fix it before they turn into me.”

Internal Turmoil

Guilt as Fuel:

“I wanted them to be strong. I made them breakable.”

Memory Flash

their first soccer goal at 7

he’d cheered:

“Do 10 more!” 

instead of hugging them

they’d scored 20, vomited, and lied: “I’m fine!”

Fear

“They’ll outgrow needing me before I learn to be needed.”

WHAT HE DOES NEXT

Apology (Jungkook Style)

Public Humiliation

posts a ”Fail Compilation”

him dropping weights, tripping on stage, crying mid-concert

caption: “I’m not Superman. Just a dad who fell.”

Child’s Reaction

comments: “Cringe.”  he replies: “Deserved. Roast me harder.”

Radical Surrender

”Apprentice Dad”

forces them to train him in their hobbies

lets them critique on the soccer field

“Faster” he grits when they overtake him 

“I can take it.”

Yoongi’s Role

sits in on studio sessions, taking notes

“Hyung, how do I… parent?” 

Yoongi tosses him a lyric sheet: 

“Try listening, not fixing.”

Tactile Vulnerability

Injury Ritual

cleans their bloody knuckles/scraped knees nightly

rewrapping them with ”Sorry” scribbled on the tape/band aids

Bedtime Confession

reads Green Eggs and Ham in silly voices

like they’re 5 again

“I missed this. Missed you.”

TYPICAL MOMENTS & DIALOGUE

Past Failures (Angst)

Missed Milestone

they won an important soccer match

Jungkook sent a new pair of soccer shoes via assistant

they sold them

buying Yoongi and them coffee for studio sessions

Empty Praise

when they aced a math test, he’d flexed: 

“My genes are fire!”  they’d hissed: “Mom’s a professor. You’re just… you.”

Reparative Actions (Fluff)

”Weakness Workshop”

Jungkook cooks burnt pancakes

laughing as smoke alarms blare

“See? I suck. Teach me.”

Raw Confession

mid-sparring, he lets them knock him down

“You’re stronger. Be stronger. Forgive me.”

Signature Phrases:

Painful Truths

“I thought love was a competition. You’re my coach now.”

Athletic Metaphors

“You’re my personal best. Let me be your warm-up.”

LONG-TERM CHANGES

Systemic Shifts:

”Golden Hours”

limits their training to 3 hours/day

buys a family-sized gym where staff call the child ”Boss.”

Visible Reminders

tattoos their initials next to ”ARMY”  

“New recruits ...”

later they get matching tattoos

Advocacy Through Action

launches ”Rest Days” campaign for (athlete) mental health

speeches quote their fights: 

“Trophies rust. Kids don’t.”

Emotional Rebuilding

therapy focus: “Strength as Softness, Not Swagger.” 

journals: 

“I don’t need to win. I need to stay.”

ENDING

months later, they co-host a ”Dad vs. Kid” match

Jungkook takes a dive, theatrically collapsing

they sit on his chest, grinning: 

“You’re washed up, old man.”  he pulls them into a hug: “Nah. Just letting you lead.”

they gift him a new jeans jacket, hand painted:

“World’s Strongest Dad - almost” 

he wears it to the Grammys

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

[winwintea]

how dreamies would react to helping you with your homework

REQUEST ▸ how dreamies would react to having to help with your homework?

PAIRING ▸ friend!dreamies x reader 

TAGS ▸ none, crack, most of them are confused af and very unhelpful, DO NOT TAKE ANY OF THEIR ADVICE ESPECIALLY CHENLE’S…

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ anon i lost your ask somehow… it appeared on my computer but now i can’t find it but i still remember it! i apologize if the formatting is weird this time lol i’m writing this on my phone 😭

Mark Lee

marks TRIES to help you with your homework. emphasis on ‘TRIES’ cause we all know he is no help at all. you ask him a question about the problem as you’re both attempting it together and he looks at you with the most confused look you have ever seen, “i was just about to ask you the exact same thing…” you two are probably never going to figure it out, so good luck getting your homework done tonight!

Huang Renjun

renjun is an actually good tutor. of course he’s going to walk you through all the steps on how to solve the problems and then discuss with you the subject better at hand, “I think it’s 47… stay focused y/n!” renjun’s the best study buddy, and even if he doesn’t understand the subject well, he’ll try his best to understand and learn on his own, just so he can teach you better.

Lee Jeno

jeno. poor jeno. he’s trying his best too okay? “why are there… letters… isn’t this math?” he hasn’t had much education past a basic high school level, so anything beyond that bewilders him, “we used to solve… much different problems… back when i was a kid” (okay boomer) next time remember that jeno and statistics do not work well together!

Lee Donghyuck

haechan looks at the problems for a few seconds before deciding that is simply something he does not want to attempt at all. “you know… you don’t need school!” he throws the pencil down on the table in a fit, “who needs school anyways?” haechan glances at the work then back at you, “there are so many other options on the table! just drop out!”

Na Jaemin

jaemin is great for emotional support! not the best for helping, but at least he’s there cheering you on from the sides. he’ll take a look at you with a happy smile on his face, “you’re doing great!” but then as soon as he looks back at the problem you’re currently attempting he arches his brows into a look of pure confusion. he’s just as clueless as you are, but at least he can be your cheerleader!

Zhong Chenle

chenle gets quite impatient with how slow you’re doing the problems, “wrong… wrong again…” until eventually he snatches the paper across from your seat and mumbles to himself, “you know what, give it to me…” you two sit in silence as Chenle does the homework for you, but before he finishes he looks at you again dead serious, “why don’t you just cheat?”

Park Jisung

jisung was everywhere but school… so what you even expect this man will do to help you study? “what’s the purpose of this again?” he asks as he lets out a big yawn, and stretches in his chair, rocking back and forth impatiently as you attempt the problem yourself. jisung watches as you struggle for a couple of seconds before grumbling to himself, “just tell your professor it doesn’t make sense… i don’t know… you can gaslight him, you’re good at that.”

[karvroom]

School Outside of Heroism

There’s classes outside of Homeroom with Mr. Aizawa, right? So what is Class 1-A like in science, PE, English, Math, etc.?

includes: Katsuki Bakugo, Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, Ochako Uraraka, Tsuyu Asui, Momo Yaoyorozu

═════════════

⟢ KATSUKI BAKUGO

✮ surprisingly really good at math

✮ constantly wants to compare math answers with whoever is sitting next to him. if the person’s answer was wrong, he would say “shits easy. what aren’t you getting?” then would proceed to show step by step how he got his correct answer.

✮ absolutely hates english and modern literature

✮ as much as he doesn’t enjoy reading, he’ll still try the material, but would often get confused by the jumble of words.

✮ faded sketches of pro heroes are scattered in his notes. they’re only faded because he erases them at the end of class to ensure no one would ever see them.

✮ during science, he would know every single answer when it came to anything regarding stars or planets. when he was a kid he had a major obsession with astronomy (even had the plastic glowing stars on his bedroom ceiling).

⟢ IZUKU MIDORIYA

✮ has definitely called All Might “dad” by accident when talking about him to Todoroki.

✮ has a hard time during anatomy because he’s too focused on the unit where they learn about quirks. he would bother the teacher everyday by asking questions about various different quirks.

✮ his notes are always disorganized, yet he somehow knows where the exact information he’s looking for is. to make it even worse, he doesn’t add any form of annotation—no highlighting, underlining, circling, etc.

✮ horrible hand writing.

✮ he keeps track of who’s absent in any class. the next day, he’ll give the person his notes of what they missed (even if they were unable to read his chicken scratch).

⟢ SHOTO TODOROKI

✮ neatest hand writing you’ll ever come across

✮ sneaks his phone under the desk just to text his mom/sister back when he knows he shouldn’t.

✮ the type to never ask for help in class from his classmates or the teacher, yet always gets a perfect grade on his assignments. when he does need help he’ll shyly ask Fuyumi for it.

✮ fell asleep in class one time and no one woke him up.

✮ you’ll find Midoriya as his partner in most classes

✮ his sister would find the time to make a large breakfast for the family every morning, but he always only eats a slice of toast or two strips of bacon.

⟢ DENKI KAMINARI

✮ used to always chew the tops of the erasers off of pencils.

✮ tries so hard to be the class clown (he is)

✮ always asks the group chat for class 1-a for the answers. when no one responds in the chat or Iida bites his head off for “not trying”, Sero would send him the answers in a private chat between them two.

✮ never has a pencil, yet keeps small knick knacks (fidget spinners, fidget cubes, small action figurines, etc.) in the front pocket of his backpack.

✮ Nike representative.

⟢ EIJIRO KIRISHIMA

✮ along with Iida, Kirishima is that one kid who shouts at the class to be quiet when the teacher is talking.

✮ a lot of girls outside of 1-A have a fat crush on him.

✮ lovesss taking culinary classes, even if he isn’t a great cook. he forced Kaminari to take them with him.

✮ struggles in math, but whenever he does get the correct answer he makes a big deal about it, showing it off to whoever is closest to him.

✮ very sociable; if he sees someone sitting by themselves, he’ll go up and ask if they want to sit with him or just plop in a seat next to them and strike up a conversation.

⟢ OCHAKO URARAKA

✮ finds dissecting any kind of animal in anatomy disgusting and forces Mina to do all the work.

✮ the one girl who is always out of her seat and socializing with everyone.

✮ is never seen alone. she’s always accompanied by midoriya, tsu, or hagakure.

✮ on the first day, when the teacher was calling names for attendance, she responded by saying “present”. Sero and Kaminari would not shut up about for the rest of the day.

⟢ TSUYU ASUI

✮ unable to dissect any animal during anatomy because…yk—so her and Uraraka make Mina do it.

✮best subject is history. she’s a history NUT when it comes to that class. she aces every quiz/exam. easily remembers dates of important events.

✮ teachers LOVE her, but she doesn’t feed into it (she doesn’t like being a teacher’s pet).

✮ never responds in the class 1-A group chat unless they are directly talking to her or something regarding her.

⟢ MOMO YAOYOROZU

✮ has every color highlighter she could ever need.

✮ carries a water bottle with her everywhere (stanley, hydroflask, etc.)

✮ has an extra tote bag that has all the essentials: hairbrush, hair ties, a book, an extra plastic water bottle, headphones, etc.

✮ freaks out when her grade goes below an A-

✮ ENGLISH QUEEN. loves reading and analyzing texts and speeches given by the teacher. she studies them even outside of class so whenever the teacher asks questions she’s always the first to answer.

✮ teacher’s pet but doesn’t acknowledge that fact

[maddascanbe-blog]

Huh, I expected to get my drawing of Teen Zoé done for the redesigns first. Oh well... Only Kwami-swaps of the Lifeswap AU!

Meet Amaranth and Cerastes!

For no reason at all I decided to give Swap-Zoé long hair and Swap-Chloé shorter hair. Which is the exact opposite of my normal redesigns for them.

André won the custody battle for Zoé, and put his best foot forward into raising her and Chloé. Zoé is similar to how she is in cannon, late season 5. But she still learned how to mirror people, convincing them to lower their guard around her. She is a politicians daughter after all, and having people on your side is most important when convincing people to follow you. Zoé ultimately wants to do good for Paris, and is good friends with Ivan and the other members of Kitty section due to their activist mindsets.

Zoé's biggest fear is the secret of her being not André's biological daughter coming to light. He told her when she was 13 because he worried her biological father might try and regain custody in order to extort André for money. He made it clear in no uncertain terms that she is Zoé Bourgeois, the youngest of the family, Chloé's sister, and his daughter.

While she is happy André won't give her up for anything, she finds a new resentment for Audrey. And lives in fear this will harm her father's reputation, change how her relationship with her sister works, and effect how her friends see her, should it ever come to light.

Chloé's know for years that Zoé was the result of Audrey's cheating, she knew that one of the contentions during the divorce was that Audrey was barely in Paris the entire first 2 years of Chloé's life. The math didn't math, so she pieced together the truth. This only added fuel to her burning hatred for Audrey, Zoé is her little sister.

As Amaranth, Zoé makes her voice Heard! There is no stopping her once she's set her mind to it. I based her outfit on a womens power suit, and those asymmetrically colored biker jackets.

Juleka meanwhile, grew up with Anarka. She remembered her brother from when they were little, and is a tad horrified at who he's grown up to be. With Luka gone, Juleka lost her spark and her voice. She almost never talks, and doesn't stand up for anything. She just goes through the motions most days. Anarka tried to bring that light back to her daughters eyes, but every step forward has two steps back taken by Juleka's bullies. Being a quiet kid, who's mom can't keep a job, wears hand me downs, and whose dad ran off didn't leave much to be desired when it came to options of being harrassed.

Finally Anarka broke and asked Jagged to let the twins reunite. She hoped this might be a chance for Juleka to find herself again. And while Luka had changed too much from her caring and strong twin, she did find Zoé, Marinette, Adrien, and the members of Kitty Section.

Do you remember Juleka helping Zoé dye her hair in Sole Crusher? Well this time it happens in reverse. After getting comfortable with the group, she approaches Zoé about getting her hair colored. Naturally, Zoé's gotta help her girly out.

After Luka is deemed no longer suitable to be a miraculous holder, Ladybug and Chat Noir decide to give Juleka a chance. Cerastes isn't flashy, or confident. She's stealthy, sharp, and attentive.

Juleka's spent years just adapting to new situations and learning to read people for the sake of surviving, and it comes in handy when it comes to figuring out Akuma's.

Unshockingly, Luka isn't happy to see his miraculous used by someone else, though it does take a while to get there since Cerastes doesn't even get properly seen for ages. She's very good at disappearing.

Anarka is so relieved that Juleka finally found her people, that she's even willing to stay in Paris to keep her close to her friends. She still struggles to keep a normal job, but anything to see her little girl smile again.

[jestersprivilegee]

High and Dry | ch. 12

t. jefferson x reader

Wc: 3.4k-ish

Chat this went a different direction than I had planned but I’m pretty happy w how it turned out. Anyway I have a req for a blurb for this fic that I’m gonna start working on 🤭🤭

“What are we getting again?” Thomas asked, trailing next to you in the almost barren grocery store. The only other occupants were the two workers unlucky enough to work on Christmas Eve, and fathers who were sent to retrieve forgotten food items. One person had a cart filled to the brim with alcohol and their hood pulled up. Yikes.

“Shit for peppermint cookies. Oh, and the collard greens your mom asked for,” you replied, grabbing a pack of butter and tossing it in the cart. “There's, what, twelve people in your family, including you?”

“That math checks out,” he watched you pause and grab another pack of butter. “How many cookies are you makin’?”

“Enough for fourteen people. So a lot.”

“Fourteen?”

“Well, I guess thirteen since Isham is too young–ah shit, your sisters have husbands and kids, don't they?” You winced, doing more mental math. Eventually you didn't care–tripling the recipe should be enough for everyone to have some, and for you to package a dozen to bring to your mom. And maybe enough for you to take home and indulge in.

“That they do. Don’t worry too much, sweetheart, we have a billion other desserts. Why did you wanna make these, anyway?”

You reached up to grab the cocoa powder, struggling because they kept black cocoa on the top shelf, right out of reach. Thomas put a hand on your hip, coming up behind you and grabbing it. The way his hands fit so perfectly around your waist made your heart skip a beat and flooded your brain with thoughts you didn't want to think. And god, he smelt good. He always did.

“T-thanks,” you stammered, “my mom asked me to make them last minute. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he gave you a quizzical look. “They must be good if she's askin’ you to bring ‘em. Speaking of which, when are you seeing her?”

“We'll stop by tomorrow, on the way back home. And they are fucking good.”

He laughed, “I don't doubt it. She still in the same house?”

Fuck, he didnt know, did he? Technically, that house was under her name. She just was temporarily living somewhere else. So technically you could say yes, she is in the same house. Even though she’s cooped up in a mental ward because her own thoughts made her go crazy (maybe a little over dramatic, but oh well).

“Uhhh… yeah, let’s go with that,” you mumbled, moving onto the next item. His eyebrows furrowed deeply, because why did you seem so hesitant to answer?

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing? She’s still in the same house,” you doubled down, glaring at him and growing defensive. “What do you think, white chocolate or dark chocolate?”

He frowned. “Y/n, is she struggling financially? Because if she needs help—“

“She’s fine, Thomas,” you cut in. He flinched at the sharpness in your tone and the harsh stare you were giving him. “Just—just drop it, okay?”

He sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was change the subject, because now he was worried for the stability of not just your mom, but you as well. He had heard you briefly mention therapy to Alex, so he knew you were already having some sort of problem. If she wasn’t doing well, it would probably affect your mental wellbeing, and he couldn’t stand the thought of you being stressed out over money.

“Alright,” he acquiesced. You held up the different bags of chocolate. “How ‘bout both?”

“Good idea,” you smiled, still feeling a little tense. The items dropped into the basket with a thud and you searched for peppermint flavoring. Thomas went quiet for the remainder of the trip. It was awkward as hell, and you hated it, because what was going on in that pretty little head of his? Why was it so hard to decipher the meaning behind the downward tug of his lips?

He knew you were too stubborn to admit what was wrong. It was always that way. So he shouldn't be disappointed when you refused to answer what was going on with your mom. After all, it wasn’t any of his business. He would drop you off, probably wait in the car for god knows how long, and then you'd drive home together. No more fake-dating, no more playing around with each other; it’d be right back to work. He hated knowing it would be right back to work. The relationship he found himself rebuilding was one he liked. He valued you more than he would admit, and he could only hope you'd see it.

–

“Real couples bake together,” Thomas pouted, carrying almost all the grocery bags in. “We need to amp it up a bit anyway. Be more couple-like, you know?”

“Was the kiss on the forehead not enough for you?” You teased, setting the plastic bags on the counter. The kitchen was empty, save for the turkey and ham cooking in the oven and the various foods his mother was making.

“Did it affect you so much that you're still thinking about it?” He smirked. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Mr. Just-as-beautiful-as-Tommy-described,” you quoted his mom from last night. His smirk dropped and he was overwhelmed with hot embarrassment. “Don’t think I forgot about that.”

“Well what did you want me to tell her? That you’re the most hideous thing I've ever laid my eyes on?” He sassed, unpacking the groceries and sliding the items for the cookies over to you.

“No. I’m just flattered you think I'm pretty.”

He scoffed at the way you batted your eyelashes, looking up at him with such a smug, satisfied smile that all he wanted to do was wipe off. “Don’t let it get to your head, sweetheart.”

“Too late. My ego has been doubled.” You paused for a moment, debating the question on your mind. “So what about me do you think is pretty?”

“Oh god, are you seriously trying to do this?” He groaned, watching your grin widen. “How ‘bout you tell me who you were obsessed with when we were fourteen and maybe I’ll consider it.”

Now it was his turn to smirk. You shifted, facing away from him and distracting yourself by searching for a bowl. “Not happening, Jefferson. Where do you keep the bowls?”

“That’s too bad then, I guess you’ll never know,” he hummed, reaching under a counter and grabbing a large glass bowl. “Was it Joseph?” He asked, standing directly behind you and wrapping his large hands around your waist. His chin came to rest on your shoulder, and fuck it just got so much harder to focus. Measuring ingredients has never been this difficult.

“No. Hell no, he was annoying.” Your voice was squeakier than intended. Why were you so nervous? It was just Thomas. The proximity of him shouldn't make your heart stutter the way it did. “This isn’t necessary, you know?”

“I know,” he mumbled, his voice low in your ear. Despite the acknowledgement, he didn’t move. “It’s part of the act, sweetheart. Just go with it.”

“Thomas, there’s no one else around,” you pointed out, fluffing up the butter before cracking a couple eggs into it. Baking was supposed to be meditative, but right now it felt like a high-pressure scenario with a certain someone looming over your shoulder.

He huffed. “Well maybe I just wanted to hug you. Sue me.”

You froze. Why was he being so… affectionate? And why in hell were you letting it happen? You could've pushed him away by now; you should've pushed him away by now. It felt way too good to have his arms tightened around your torso, and that feeling was dangerous. It was worrisome how enjoyable it was.

“...Why?”

He shrugged, loosening his grip ever so slightly. “Tell me who you liked first and maybe I'll tell you that, too.”

“Why are you so insistent on knowing? We were fourteen, it's not like it mattered.” A small frown tugged at your lips. Couldn’t he just drop it already?

“Because I’m a little hurt you never told me at the time,” he said. “C’mon, we were best friends. We told each other everything, but you didn’t tell me about this boy-crazy phase?”

Shit, he had a point, but telling him would’ve meant confessing your feelings, which you did not want to do. It’s understandable he’s upset considering he told you about his crushes. God, it's such a childish subject. Surprisingly nostalgic, and part of you loved the thrill of feeling like you’re in high school again, pining over your best friend and getting giddy every time he texted.

Finally, you sighed, giving in. “If I tell you, do you promise not to pester me about it anymore?”

He perked up, and for a split second you missed the weight of his chin against your shoulder. “Promise. And I’ll keep my other half of the deal, too.”

An embarrassed noise rumbled from your throat as you choked out the words, “it was you, Thomas. You were my childhood crush.”

Now it was his turn to freeze. And your mind immediately started overthinking it, because that’s what it does best. You waited for him to react, opening mint extract and measuring it with your heart. The sweet scent wafted from the bottle and reminded him of where he was and what just happened.

“But… you were my childhood crush,” he muttered.

Hold on. Put a pause on this conversation. He liked you? And he was only just now saying something?

Thomas took a step back, and you turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed. “Seriously? But I thought–you always had crushes on other girls.”

“And you always had crushes on other guys,” he countered.

For a moment, neither of you were sure of what to do next. For a moment, you stared at each other, processing the information shared.

“Well it's a good thing it worked out in the end!” Martha chimed in, a cheeky grin on her face.

A light gasp escaped you, startled by the sudden appearance of the young girl. Jesus, this is the second time she's done that. You really need to be careful with what you talk about in this house. Is anywhere safe? Thomas cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from you to glare at his sister.

“Can you stop eavesdropping on our conversations, please?”

She shrugged. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I just came down here to get some water and heard you talking. Cut me some slack.”

There was a flicker of annoyance in Thomas’s sharp jaw. You hoped that was all she heard. If she saw you getting mad at Thomas hugging you paired with the fact that she barged in on your hallway talk with him, she could connect the dots and potentially narc. And working with 14 and 15 year olds all day every day, you are aware of their intelligence. They’re young adults, not toddlers, and Martha in particular was pretty bright. It made sense; the Jefferson’s are a well-educated family.

“That’s cute though, you were each other's childhood crushes and now you’re together,” she said, grabbing a glass and taking her time to fill it up. You glanced at Thomas, a little disappointed that the moment got interrupted. He was supposed to fill out his other end of the deal, after all. “It’s like the ultimate childhood friends to lovers story.”

“We’re a lucky couple, aren't we?” He said through gritted teeth, hooking his arm around your hip to pull you to his side.

Was it normal for your heart to be beating that fast? Or for your shoulders to be that tense? Surely not. Perhaps you should get that checked out by a doctor. “That we are,” you nodded, putting a hand on his chest and leaning into the act.

Martha raised an eyebrow, her nose scrunching in a mixture of disgust and confusion. “Why are you acting so weird?”

Thomas immediately stammered, his eyes widening. “Weird? We’re acting perfectly normal, what do you–”

“Never mind, I just realized I don't care,” she cut him off, side-eyeing him while walking out of the kitchen. “Continue your… activities, please.”

When she was out of sight, a breath you didn't know you were holding was released. You became acutely aware of Thomas's grip on your waist, the hand you held over his racing heart, and the warmth radiating from him. You decided to detach from him since the only people in the kitchen were you and him, and it didn’t make sense to keep up the act.

An awkward silence enveloped the room as you turned back to the cookie dough, eyes wide but making no move to work on them. ‘What the hell just happened. He liked me? Seriously?’ Your mind was racing a million thoughts per second, and Thomas must’ve sensed it.

He took a deep inhale, collected himself, then spoke in that husky voice of his. “So, I guess we both liked each other, then.”

You swallowed thickly, “I guess so. How come you never said anything?”

“Never knew how, I suppose,” he shrugged. “How ‘bout you? What’s your excuse?”

“I didn’t want to lose you as a friend–but I guess that happened anyway, didn’t it?” You muttered the last part to yourself before continuing, “and someone always had a crush on you. Always. I figured you’d choose someone way prettier or more popular, and well, you did.”

Guilt flashed in his eyes at the thought of his ex-girlfriend, Kirsten. The same girl he put way too much trust in after a few months of dating, mostly because she kept threatening to break up with him and tarnish his reputation by spreading rumors; the same girl who he seldom got along with because her interests were nothing like his; the same girl who cheated on him with the Basketball captain. He was a fool to trust her word over yours, and it cost him the most valuable friend he’s ever had. Part of him knew you would never ruin his chance at a scholarship, anyway. You weren’t the type to get all psycho-jealous and do that.

“She was not prettier than you, Y/n,” he said.

“Half the school was obsessed with her. She had modeling gigs at sixteen. Tell me again how I’m prettier than the perfect little angel-model?” You deadpanned, crossing your arms.

He sighed, rubbing his nose bridge in slight frustration. “One, Kirsten wasn’t an angel. Far fucking from it. That girl was the devil in disguise. Two, she modeled once before that career went down the drain. Three, her personality was so horrendous it made her ugly. And you… god, you were the nicest person I’d ever met. You’re gorgeous, you always were, and you had this nerdy, downtown vibe that made it impossible not to like you. Seriously. When we stopped being friends, some of my guy friends said they were disappointed that you were still ‘off-limits’ because they were supposed to hate you for what happened.”

“You know it wasn't true, right?”

His breath caught in his throat. “The whole trying-to-ruin-my-scholarship thing?”

“Yeah. I never reported you,” you paused. “Thomas, if your girlfriend wasn’t as great as she seemed, why did you believe her over me? I-I know it was a while ago, and we should put it behind us, but still. I just can't… I can't get over that.”

There goes his nervous habit of fidgeting with his rings. He wiped his hands on his sweater before speaking. “I don't know. Peer pressure? She kept pushing and pushing and I just… ugh. I hate that I let that happen. I should’ve defended you more–”

“Defended me more? Thomas, you didn’t defend me in the first place! Half our fucking grade turned on me because of that goddamn rumor!” You snapped, voice raising a little. His eyes widened and he gave you a motion, ushering you to dial it down a bit.

“You think I wanted that to happen? It got way out of hand and I tried, Y/n, I really did try to defend you,” he seethed in a hushed whisper. “I would always tell them to stop if they were talking shit about you. And I shut down as many rumors as I could, but after I broke up with Kirsten, it was out of my control. I fucking tried, and–and I’m sorry that happened to you. It shouldn't have. I never wanted you to get so hurt to the point of therapy. I should’ve handled it better, but we were kids. Neither of us knew better. And I’m not sayin’ this to excuse my actions, they were horrible and wrong. But I did the best with what I had, Y/n, and I truly am sorry.”

You were silent throughout the whole rant. His emotions had hit their peak, then calmed down to a whole-hearted apology. You could hear it in his voice, and see it in his eyes that he meant it. The long awaited apology was finally delivered, and you weren’t too sure how to process it. First of all, you had no idea he would shut it down when people talked about you. If anything, he would’ve been the ring leader starting up the conversations. Second, how the hell did he know you’re in therapy? It's not just for dealing with the low self esteem you established in high school, you wanted to tell him that there was so much more to it than that, but there was no point in revealing that to him. Despite every voice screaming at you not to trust him, to turn back and not believe anything he says, you caved.

“I… I forgive you.”

Those three words. You almost choked trying to get them out.

His eyes softened with hope, and a small smile replaced his deep frown.

“And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn't have held it against you all these years. It just… it felt like I would be betraying myself if I ever forgave you. Like I would betray her. She had no one to stand up for her when she needed it most. I thought if I was rude to you, untrusting and whatnot, it would feel like revenge. God, that sounds twisted now that I’m saying it out loud.” You laughed, but it was dry. Humorless.

“No, it’s okay, I get it. And I’ve been a dick this year, too, so I’m not exactly innocent in that aspect. I’m sorry,” he bit his lower lip sheepishly, “so… are we good? No more fightin’?”

“Yes,” you smiled, “we’re good, Thomas. ‘M tired of fighting anyway.”

His grin spread wider, and he opened his arms out for a hug. “Alright, bring it in.”

“The hell–no!” You grimaced, giggling a bit. He ignored your protests and wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you into his broad chest.

“Thought you were tired of fighting?” He teased. You huffed, reluctantly relaxing in his embrace and hugging him back.

Even though you shouldn't, because you're treading in dangerous water by doing this.

“I am. Which is the only reason I’m giving into this, so don't get it twisted. We are not friends, Jefferson, just no longer beefing.” You affirmed, getting overwhelmed with his scent. Was it bad cedar and pine might be your new favorite smell?

“Right,” he cleared his throat, pulling off of you, “of course. Wouldn't wanna jump too far ahead, would we?”

Despite his words, there was a clear dissatisfaction in his eyes. Like what you said hurt him, and in all honesty, it hurt you, too. When they left your mouth, you weren't sure you believed it. Because even though you said you’re not friends, only–shit, you don't even know what you are–it felt the opposite. Deep down, you both knew it wasn't true. Yet neither of you would acknowledge it.

“No,” you confirmed, turning around. “Wanna try some dough?”

His smile was a thin disguise to hide his sadness, but he went along with it anyway.

“Oh, and I’m still waiting to hear how pretty I am.”