#solace local group

[identityarchitect]

e and j for do you know everything? (oc ask game)

ok hold on it seems that youre asking about my beloved rw oc Does Your Kin Endure but i cannot for the life of me find where i told you about her?? are you just psychic

ill answer it for her but lmk if u meant someoen else

E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?

i think she's the sort of person id look up to and hopefully id get along with her! if she were a real person i would be blown away by her sheer lesbian power

J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?

uhh only very slightly in that her name doesnt even slightly align with rw's typical naming system (usually its [amount of] [noun] i.e Fifteen Deck Chairs, sometimes [verb] [noun] i.e Gazing Into The Sun)

(ask game here)

[mindmelter]

The Body Wearing Convention - Las Vegas

The BWA (Body Wearing Alliance) was formed 20 years ago when the internet was just starting to get popular. Those born with the rare ability of reducing people into wearable skins didn't knew there was more like them out there, but with the help of the internet they started to find others with the same ability, and soon it was created the BWC (Body Wearing Convention)

The Body Wearing Convention is a clandestine event that happens a few times every year, hidden from the prying eyes of the public, It is a secret event where they can gather, share stories, and find solace in the knowledge that they aren't alone in their power.

The BWC happens in a different country every time, for safety reasons, and the main two rules to participate in the convention is: To be a Skinwalker (That's how they call themselves) and to wear the body of a local from that place, that means you can't bring with yourself skins from home.

Currently the secret Alliance is made up of 130 men around the world. But among these 130 members, there are 10 men who are very close friends with each other, they all share one thing in common: They are all gay.

Surprisingly they are the only gay guys of the entire Alliance, while all the others sought power and money, these 10 friends only care about getting hard in a new sexy body, It was like a sport for them. That's why they created an online group chat, where they can talk and share pictures of their current bodies with each other.

The location of the BWC this time is: USA - Las Vegas.

The 10 friends all arrived individually at the city in an early Friday, the convention would occur during the weekend, so they had to find a new skin quickly, and so they went straight on a hunt for a random local body.

Think of the BWC as the Met Gala, but for people who can turn you into a wearable hollow fleshsuit in a blink. There was this unspoken competition among them, to see who was wearing the hottest or richest skin, and this group of friends clearly didn't care about the last one...

_______________________________________

Carl is a 46 years old married gay man, he is part of the BWA for 17 years, and there is nothing Carl love more than wearing the bodies of fit straight guys. His husband knows he's a skinwalker and is totally fine with it. But because his husband is not a skinwalker, he is not allowed to go to the conventions, so Carl always travels alone.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:19 AM) Carl Sent A Photo

Carl: I just turned this hot Latino stud in the hotel parking lot. He was walking towards his car while talking on the phone with his girlfriend. That's when I slowly walked behind him and turned him. What do you guys think? Do I wear him well?

Harold: You're looking so hot. You always pick the most hottest guys.

Elijah: Wow, you already found a body? That was fast.

Joel: He's not that impressive, I would give him a 6/10 lol

Elijah: Stop being a jerk Joel. This guy is clearly a 9/10

Carl: Don't mind him Elijah, he's just jealous of my pick.

Joel: He's not really my type, today I'm looking for a sexy tough looking guy to wear.

Peter: Hot choice of skin Carl! Show us his dick please!

Carl: You will have to wait until the Convention to see it. But i'm telling you, he's really big and thick, I know you're gonna love sucking it.

_______________________________________

David is 34 years old and he is part of the BWA for 13 years.

He first found out about his ability when his homophobic stepbrother was trying to beat him up, David closed his eyes and tried to protect his head, but when he opened his eyes, he saw his hot stepbrother lying on the floor completely deflated. David had the most fun years living the life of his douchebag of a stepbrother, until one day, his stepbrother just "disappeared"

(Friday, March 1st. 9:46 AM) David Sent A Photo:

David: I made two new bodysuits. I saw the handsome blond one at the hotel's pool, he was trying to seduce some girls by showing off his hot body, he just didn't knew he was actually seducing a skinwalker. To get him, I first had to convert this cute room service attendant, after I put him on, I got access to his room and walked inside. I think I'm going to use the attendant tonight for some fun.

Elijah: Oh, the good old room service method. It works every time.

David: It was you who taught me this method back in 2011 when I was still a new member of the BWA.

Damian: It brings back good memories from that one time where we all stayed at the same hotel in the 2011 Convention. Good times.

_______________________________________

Peter Is a 40 years old gay bottom who love to turn big hunky men into Bodysuits and act like a slut in their bodies. He is part of the Body Wearing Alliance for 9 years.

(Friday, March 1st. 11:28 AM) Peter Sent A Photo:

Peter: Do I look cute? This is Ramón, I turned him at an alley while he was jogging, he's a bodybuilder. I'm gonna make such a good use of his muscles. I'm sure you guys are going to love the muscles in his ass the most.

Joel: I love how you always pick the most biggest guys.

Daniel: I feel bad for this poor bastard, of all the Skinwalkers, he was picked by the most perverted one.

Peter: lol

Carl: He's huge. I'm going to enjoy burying my new thick latino dick in your bodybuilder's ass.

Harold: I really like his pecs. I want to suck on them when we meet tomorrow.

Peter: It's always the pecs for you isn't, Harold? lol

Harold: You're not lying. Actually I just saw this hot guy at the mall and he seems to have very big pecs. I'm going to follow him.

_______________________________________

Harold is a 28 years old scrawny gay man, he has no muscle definition, but he love pecs and it was what he first looked for in a body: Their huge pecs. If the guy didn't had two big meaty pecs, he wound't want them.

He went to the local LA mall to hunt for a body, he knew that the mall was always the perfect place for hunting skins. And he was proven just right when he saw this big and tall hunk walk inside a clothing store. Harold smirked as he entered the store and followed the man.

(Friday, March 1st. 1:05 PM) Harold Sent A Photo:

Harold: Who want some milk boys? Daddy got all the milkers now.

Peter: Oh my god, look at the size of these tits. I will let you suck on Ramón's tits if you let me suck yours.

Harold: This sounds like a good deal.

Carl: Very nice choice of skin! Good job, Harold.

Peter: Can you send a video of you playing with those hairy tits and pinching his nipples? Please?

(1:15 PM, Harold Sent A 20 Seconds Video To The Group Chat)

In the vídeo he was in the middle of the store, squeezing his new pair of meaty hairy pecs, he lifted one of them and let go, watching them bounce, then he pinched his left nipple and let out a deep loud moan. Without feeling any shame for being in a public space. It wasn't technically him who was being humiliated in public, so he didn't cared.

_______________________________________

Damian and Rashad are a black gay couple (47, 49) they have been together for 11 years and they both had met each other during a Body Wearing Convention back in 2013. It was very known to everyone that they only turned white men into Bodysuits, it was their favorite type of skins. So there was no diversity in their Bodysuit closet, only white men.

(Friday, March 1st. 3:07 PM) Damian Sent A Photo:

Damian: You guys know how Rashad and I love to hunt white boys, so what better place to find some white skins than at the LA beach? We saw this group of young frat boys surfing and we converted these two 19 years olds, they were just the most handsome ones in their group. Turns out they are twin brothers.

David: This is such a hot pair, and the fact they are brothers makes it even more hot!

Carl: I want to fuck the long haired one with my thick latino dick while I pull his hair.

Damian: I like this Idea. His long hair would be great to use as a handle for a hard fuck. I might even try It later tonight.

David: Send us a video if you do.

_______________________________________

Joel is the youngest one of the group, at only 19 he already has a count of 86 Bodysuits, and he's part of the Body Wearing Alliance for only 1 year. That's why, the BWA leader tasked Elijah, a veteran in the art of wearing bodies, to watch for Joel and not let the young man expose their secret society.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:14 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: My new bodysuit is still deflating. I can't wait to finally wear him and show him to you guys. He's so hot.

Carl: You gave my bodysuit a 7/10, so he better be a 10/10.

Isaac: Wow he's packing.

Harold: When he deflate, please send us a pic of you in him. I want to see if his front looks as good as his back side.

(Friday, March 1st. 5:40 PM) Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: I'm inside him now. I saw this sexy daddy at the hotel's bar. I waited for him to go to his room and then I followed him, as soon as he opened the door I converted him, right there at the door's entrance, I mean, of course he took a bit longer to deflate, so I had to drag him inside. I actually wanted to wear a scary looking soldier that I saw at the bar, but Elijah didn't let me. Still, I'm very glad with my pick.

Harold: Holly fuck!!!

Peter: He's a very sexy bodysuit. Wish I was there to give him a very special room service.

Carl: Where is Elijah by the way? Should he not be with you?

Joel: Elijah Is outside, I don't know where he went, but he said he was going to be back soon.

Carl: Did he picked a bodysuit already?

Joel: Yes he did, a young and hot fuckboy. Let me send a pic of him.

Joel Sent A Photo:

Joel: This is the body Elijah picked to wear at the convention tomorrow. I think he got this one at the hotel's bathroom maybe? I'm not sure. I hope he don't mind that I'm wearing his brand new skin.

Elijah: Boy, you're in big trouble!

Joel: Shit, I'm sorry, I thought you wouldn't mind. I'm gonna take him off.

Elijah: Don't you dare taking him off, I'm not going to wear him anymore, I found a better body to wear tomorrow. wait for me, I'm getting up there right now.

(Friday, March 1st. 6:22 PM) Elijah Sent A Photo:

Elijah: You don't want to disobey me in my new body, boy, so you better be on your knees when I get inside, I'm horny and this guy have big balls full of cum.

Joel: Yes sir!

Peter: Oh yes sir indeed!

Carl: lol you're fucked Joel.

_______________________________________

Isaac is a 24 years old gay man, and like everyone else in this group, he was addicted to wearing hunky men. He is more reserved and shy, and don't talk much in the group chat. However, he enjoys jerking off while viewing the photos his friends would send to the group chat.

He might be the most shy and reserved in the group, but once he's wearing a handsome hunk, he becomes a whole new different person, a more dominant and cocky one.

(Friday, March 1st. 8:37 PM) Isaac Sent A Photo:

Isaac: Seeing you guys wearing such hot bodies is getting me so freaking hard. I can't wait for tomorrow. I got this one at the gym's lockerroom. Who wants to take care of my boner?

Peter: I do! I want to get on my knees in Ramón's body and let you use his slutty mouth.

Harold: You're looking so damn hot, Isaac, good pick.

Carl: Was you working out? Your skin looks very sweaty.

Isaac: I was. I wanted to test out my new muscles.

Carl: Great. Can't wait for the convention tomorrow, where we can finally see each other's bodies in person and have the orgy of the year.

[hrefna-the-raven]

I want to thank you

Masterlist - BG3 masterlist

Words: 2302

Warnings: drunkenness, smut (18+)

Summary: Driders shouldn't get drunk unless they stumble upon intoxicated prey...what happens in the woods, stays in the woods 😏

Your group had finally made it out of the shadow-cursed lands. Despite the protests of your companions, you decided to let the drider Kar'niss tag along your merry group of misfits. They hadn't glimpsed into his mind, seen what you've seen, so naturally they wouldn't understand your reasoning but you simply couldn't leave him to his death at Moonrise Towers, especially not after he'd decided to defy his queen and help you defeat Ketheric. And, as you journeyed together, engaged in peculiar conversations along the way, you unexpectedly grew fond of the drider's company. Approaching the first bigger village, you decided to set up camp. While your companions sought solace in the comforts of a local tavern, longing for a soft bed, you chose to remain on the outskirts of the forest, keeping Kar'niss company as he dared not reveal himself within the village. Setting up a modest tent, you kindled a small fire and couldn't help but smile as Kar'niss skillfully spun his web between the trees.

"I'll quickly head to the tavern, have a few drinks, but I'll be back quickly", you said to Kar'niss.

"Yes, yes", he mumbled somewhat distractedly, "we need to hunt, we need food, go, we'll be busy."

"Remember to not kill any villagers", you warned him sternly, receiving only a nod in response.

With sorrowful eyes, he watched as you made your way towards the village.

Two drunkards staggered towards the forest, belting out an odd melody at the top of their lungs, swinging their tankards and occasionally taking a sip. The commotion caught Kar'niss' attention, prompting him to approach them cautiously while remaining hidden in the shadows. A smile tugged at his lips as he observed them walking straight towards his web. Easy prey, he thought, licking his lips hungrily, his arachnid instincts awakening. He made his move, his eight legs carrying him silently towards the trapped men. With a swift motion, he pierced their drunken flesh, letting the crimson elixir flow into his insatiable mouth. Kar'niss moaned with delight as their blood touched his taste buds, savouring its distinct flavour that was both sweeter and more tantalizing than anything he had ever experienced. The more he drank, the hazier his mind became, intoxicated by the unfamiliar warmth that coursed through his body. Relinquishing his hold on the men, he ran his tongue across his lips, relishing every last drop of blood that clung to his face.

As Kar'niss attempted to navigate his way back to his tent, he was taken aback by the surprising turn of events. His own body seemed to betray him, causing him to stumble and sway, his numerous legs becoming tangled in a rather clumsy display. Amidst the chaos, he found himself overcome by a mixture of laughter and tears, as these emotions washed over him like a powerful wave crashing against his fragile psyche. He almost felt like being thrown back to his earliest days as a drider, when he struggled to control his unfamiliar form. However, this time, along with the sensation of warmth, there was an overwhelming sense of joy that spread throughout his chest.

You rushed towards the woods, feeling guilty for lingering at the tavern longer than planned. Your footsteps abruptly halted as you caught sight of your little camp. Next to the fire you saw Kar'niss lying on his back, which immediately felt wrong, he'd be too weary to let his guard down like this. Concern gripped you as you heard him sobbing, prompting you to sprint towards him.

"Kar'niss, are you alright? Are you injured?", you called out, but all you received in response was a playful giggle.

A peculiar scene unfolded before your eyes. He lay on his back, his eight legs lazily sprawled to the side, occasionally twitching as he sniffed one of your tunics. He clutched it tightly to his chest as though it were the most precious treasure in the world.

"Kar'niss?", you cautiously inquired as you knelt beside him.

His gaze shot upward, quickly shifting towards you as a grin spread across his face. Attempting to raise himself, he gave up halfway and slumped back onto the ground, emitting an amused sigh.

"Our beloved queen has returned," he slurred, his words drowned out by a heartfelt sob. "We've missed yoooouuuuu."

"What happened to you? Have you eaten? Are you feeling unwell?" you inquired.

The drider inhaled the scent of your tunic once more before carelessly discarding it to the side, causing it to land directly in the fire. Great there goes my last clean untorn tunic, you thought to yourself. Distracted by your last precious piece of garment catching fire, you didn't notice that the drider finally managed to turn around. He lifted himself up, only to lose his balance once again. His upper body came crashing down upon yours, burying you beneath him. You gasped for breath, realizing how close the two of you had suddenly become. His torso pressed against yours, his hair cascading down on either side of your face and the tip of his nose nearly touching yours. Seven eyes were fixated on your blushing face as Kar'niss suppressed a groan that rumbled deep within his chest.

"We've grown fond of you, new queen, you saved us", he whispered, "we-I want to thank you."

Leaning in, he clumsily pressed his lips against yours. Surprisingly, you found yourself moaning into the kiss, which he interpreted as an invitation to deepen it with his tongue. It never occurred to you that Kar'niss would know how to kiss, but it made sense considering his previous life and the charm that still radiated from his face, probably being popular among female drow back then. Squirming beneath him, your hands gently pushed his face away, breaking the kiss as you gasped for air, still trying to process what was happening in this moment.

"She doesn't desire us, we are not deserving, we apologize," he muttered, attempting to retreat, but you refused to release him. Instead, you delved into his thoughts, seeking the memories of this evening. You witnessed the presence of two men from the tavern, observing how Kar'niss consumed their blood before stumbling towards your tent. It finally dawned on you: he was drunk, completely and utterly inebriated, without any restrictions, fear or doubt holding his true self back, baring his vulnerability to you.

The irony of the situation amused you; amidst all the trials you had faced, being trapped beneath an intoxicated drider who held affection for you was definitely an unexpected turn of events. With the connection severed, Kar'niss playfully nudged your cheek with his nose, demanding your undivided attention once more.

"We saw your memories too", he whispered, "secret glances, racing pulse, concealed thoughts."

Your eyes widened in shock and fear, realising that he had rummaged through your mind as well, finding feelings you'd planned to keep hidden.

"You desire us-me, you desire me", his voice sounded so fragile in this moment, "despite this curse, shattered, undeserving, ugly, you desire me."

His lips quivered as he tried to grasp onto your feelings for him, his heart aching as it experienced the love and desire it believed it would never feel again. You pulled him closer to you, your lips meeting his in a more intense kiss this time. Kar'niss moaned, feeling your hips pressing against his, your connection reigniting, both of your desires intertwining in a flawless symphony of lust. His hands delicately caressed your body, as if afraid that his sharp claws might accidentally tear your skin. Moans of pleasure escaped from your mouth, occasionally muffled by his passionate kisses, as you felt something firm pressing against your clothed arousal. Your curiosity led your eyes to glance downwards, where you noticed a long hard skin coloured member nestled between two plates, just above the point where his drow and spider forms merged. A question formed in your mind, but before you could ask, he released you from his embrace and moved away. 

"We were her ultimate failure, condemned to this existence, never to experience love, yet burdened with desires and the potential for intimacy", tears streamed down his face as he revealed the truth. You focused on flooding his mind with your love for him, the deep affection you held, and the burning cravings to be with him in his current form. Looking into his eyes, you severed the connection with one final statement: she was mistaken, I desire every part of you.

Perhaps it was the lingering influence of the alcohol or the consequence of the emotional barrier finally shattering completely, but it awakened a primal desire within Kar'niss. A wild instinct overtook his entire being as he pounced on you, violently tearing your garments apart with his razor-sharp claws. Before you could even process a fleeting moment of sadness for yet another piece of clothing shuffled off this mortal coil, his hardened length pressed against your wet folds. Your gaze shot upward, witnessing Kar'niss losing himself in the throes of pleasure. His many eyes shut tight, his mouth agape, and his tongue flicking over his lips as a deep growl reverberated from deep within his chest. The scene before you was captivating, etching itself into the depths of your being. A resounding moan escaped your lips as your hips involuntarily bucked, causing him to slide effortlessly inside you.

More moans escaped your lips, blending with the passionate cries of his name as he stretched and filled you entirely. Both of you gasped for breath and remained motionless for a brief moment, relishing in the sensation of being so perfectly intertwined with both your minds and bodies. Kar'niss slurred unintelligible words, his eight legs struggling to support him as one arm wrapped around you, pulling you close against his body. With great effort, he managed to stand up, still burried deep inside you, but the intoxication was still taking a toll on his coordination and he stumbled forward. Barely avoiding the nearby tent, his other hand slammed against a tree trunk for stability, causing your back to collide with the rough bark. The sudden movement caused Kar'niss to slide even deeper inside you, evoking a shared groan of pleasure. Your inner walls tightened around him, on the brink of orgasm from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. Desiring more of him, your fingers curled around his neck, drawing him in for a passionate kiss. Your tongue eagerly explored his mouth, intensifying the connection between you. Kar'niss's body moved with a swiftness that surpassed his thoughts, struggling to grasp the euphoric situation he found himself in. His hips immediately began thrusting into you at a brutal pace. His heart threatened to burst from his chest as exhaustion spread through his body, yet every fiber of his being was determined to persist. Eventually, his legs trembled and gave way, causing both of you to collapse onto the tent, tearing it down in the process. In a desperate attempt to maintain balance, Kar'niss's claws slid off and left deep marks in the tree bark. However, neither of you cared about the chaos surrounding you as he continued to ravish you relentlessly while you moaned loud enough for all of Faerûn to hear you. In between panting breaths, Kar'niss uttered your name as his length twitched inside you as he filled you with his seed. With two final thrusts, he pulled out just before your own orgasm consumed you.

You were about to huff in protest when he forcefully pinned you to the ground, growling fiercely before he settled between your legs and his tongue eagerly began to flick at your clit. Your mind spun as you felt him suck on you, his tongue delving deep into your entrance to lick up the mingling of your fluids with his own.

"Gooooood....moooore", he mumbled against your wetness before sucking at your clit once more.

You could feel your climax approaching rapidly again and just as you were about to reach it, he thrust two of fingers inside you, pushing you right over the edge of pleasure. You cried out his name, your hands grasping onto his hair as your legs twitched and trembled. Kar'niss chuckled softly, gently lifting you up and stumbling unsteadily towards his web in the trees. He settled down, cradling you in his arms, ensuring your safety so you wouldn't fall.

You couldn't recall the exact moment you drifted off to sleep, but as you awakened to the animated discussions of two awfully familiar voices, it dawned on you that you were not inside your tent and the sun had already risen. Startled, you bolted upright, oblivious to the fact that you were entangled in a spider's web among the branches. Without warning, you tumbled forward, nearly letting out a scream until an arm swiftly caught you, pulling you back against a comforting form. When you turned your head, you discovered Kar'niss nestled in the web, still sound asleep while holding you tightly with a contented smile on his face. As you glanced down, you noticed Gale and Astarion standing by your tent. Gale appeared visibly agitated, gesticulating wildly, until the pale elf's eyes met yours, his face adorned with a self-satisfied grin.

"Oh I know exactly what kind of animal went on a rampage here last night", the vampire chuckled, "but rest assured, she is not present. It is likely that she slept elsewhere and will join us shortly at the tavern."

"How can you be so certain?", Gale huffed, crossing his arms.

"Gale, darling, I simply know", Astarion smirked, taking Gale's arm and leading him back to the village.

As they walked away, Astarion turned his head one last time to wink at you. It was clear that this day was going to be a tedious one, filled with questions you had no desire to answer.

Tags:

@orionspaperwork

[jeankluv]

Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 01

Words: 4.8k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

Note: divider art credit _3aem (twt)

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Slow updates

Materialist | next chapter

Wattpad | ao3

While everyone adored him, you stood apart in your feelings. It wouldn't be accurate to say you hated him, as "hate" carried significant weight; rather, you harbored a profound dislike towards him. The problem was he knew that and his irritating presence seemed to persistently cling to you whenever he crossed your paths.

Now, you found yourself paired with him for your semester project, and the thought made you wish to hurl yourself out of the third-floor window. Three months of working alongside him loomed ahead. Adding to the discomfort, you were currently under the scrutiny of hundreds of eyes, each gaze feeling like a murder attempt. It seemed everyone coveted the opportunity to collaborate with Gojo Satoru, except for you.

“We will divide the project in two.” You said looking at the information the teacher gave you. “So we can work on it separately and once we are done we will put it together.” You didn’t like the idea but you disliked even more the idea of spending time outside the class with him.

“That wouldn’t work out, it’s better if we schedule a time to meet and we start working on it.” Gojo talked.

“No.” You said. “I’m way too busy to think about meeting outside of classes.” And it was true, you were working in two different jobs to pay the bills of college and the tiny apartment you were staying on.

“Oh c’mon!” He pouted. “It’s impossible that you are busy every day of the week at every hour.”

“Well I am.” You were starting to get angry, couldn’t he understand you didn’t want to meet with him.

The ring rang and you thanked it, it was time to leave for another class, one you wouldn’t have to see the perfect face of Satoru Gojo.

“Wait! How do we stay in contact?” Gojo spoke when you were about to leave the classroom. You could feel the gaze of a group of girl right on your neck.

“With the email.”

“C’mon.” He said your name. “Give me your number.”

“No and now leave me. I need to get to my class.”

You walked past the group of girls that were chatting obviously about the scene that just happened.

“How can she be so rude with Satoru?”

“Yeah who does she think she is? Does she even know who Satoru is?”

“She is such a loser.”

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. Of course, you were well aware of who he was - everyone knew him. A pampered child from a wealthy family, born into privilege and affluence, often referred to as an “old money baby”. He had everything handed to him on a silver platter - impeccable looks, tall, athletic, and intelligence. For many, he embodied the epitome of perfection. However, for you, he was nothing more than an insufferable jerk whom you couldn't stand.

On the flip side, you were the complete opposite of him. Life hadn't dealt you a fair hand - you struggled to make ends meet. When your mother passed away when you were just six, and your father vanished after hearing news of her pregnancy. Left with no one but your grandmother, you found solace in her loving care. However, as time marched on, you were once again confronted with loneliness when she passed away when you were just 16. With only a meager inheritance from your grandmother and the income from your job at a local store, you barely scraped by until the age of 18. Thankfully, your relentless dedication to your studies paid off when you earned a scholarship to attend the University of Tokyo.

Even though you got into a good college on the degree you wanted, your life in Tokyo hasn’t been quite easy. You were living in a tiny apartment, going to college and working two jobs because it would be impossible to make it to the end of the month with just one job. Luckily, the scholarship covered all my college expenses, but living in Tokyo wasn't exactly easy on the wallet. I found myself navigating life in the bustling city all on my own.

But your aversion towards Gojo Satoru began two years ago, on the first day of college. Rushing late after exhausting yourself at work, you collided with him, causing you to stumble to the ground. Prepared to offer an apology, you were met with his irate ranting, delivered without even a glance in your direction. Had you not been humiliated on the ground, you might have slapped some sense into him right then and there. Why was he so infuriated when he was clearly the one at fault? And the fact that he couldn't even look at you added insult to injury. Frustrated and embarrassed, you left before he could utter another word; you had no desire to hear anything further from him.

The true agony hit when you discovered he would be sharing classes with you. From then on, you made every effort to steer clear of him and his foolishness. However, it seemed everyone in your class, and even in other majors, adored him. The teachers showered him with praise because everything he touched turned to gold. Despite being at the university for two years, you had never managed to outperform his grades, and it infuriated you beyond measure.

For the past two years, you had been lucky enough to avoid partnering with him. However, it appeared that luck had finally abandoned you, and now you were destined to endure his company for the next three months.

You sat on the seat you would normally choose and took out the notebook to take notes of the next class.

“I heard you got assigned with Satoru Gojo in one of your classes.” You heard a voice next to you which made you jump.

“Kyoko… don’t scare me like that.” You cried while putting your hand on your chest trying to calm down. “How did you find out?”

“Well, everyone was talking about how a girl who got paired with the great Satoru Gojo was so rude to him and how she should be more grateful for this glorious opportunity.” You rolled your eyes.

“I might throw myself out of the window…” You leaned your head against the table and closed your eyes. “Three months Kyoko, three months.”

“I know…you know that you can talk to me if he does anything to bother you.”

“Thank you, you’re the best Kyoko.”

She smiled warmly at you, and together you turned your attention to the class. You had met Kyoko on the same day as your initial encounter with Gojo Satoru. Sitting together in one of the classes, an instant connection formed between you two, and from that moment onward, you were inseparable. Kyoko brought a brightness into your life like a ray of sunshine piercing through clouds. On the first Christmas when she discovered you would be spending it alone in your apartment, she whisked you away to her home, where you celebrated with her and her parents. Since then, Kyoko's parents had filled the void of the parents you had dearly missed, and Kyoko herself had become the sister you had always longed for.

The class was over before you knew it. Your hands hurt after taking notes non-stop and your head felt like it was about to explode after barely sleeping last night.

“Do you have time to eat with me? Or you have to go to the grocery store already?” Kyoko stood besides you while walking in the corridor.

“Today I can eat with you. My shift doesn’t start until 3 p.m. so it’s alright.”

Kyoko looked at you with concerned eyes. “Are you sure you are properly resting? You look tired and the grocery store job is okay, but I’m worried about you working on that bar at nights.”

You sighed, she was right the bar was an unpleasant place, most of those who went were men in their 40s or 50s who left their offices and spent the night drinking until they fell at the bar counter, while making obscene comments. But they paid well and the money was something I desperately needed.

You smiled at her. “I will be alright. Don’t worry.”

“You know you can always come to life with me, I know my parents wouldn’t bother taking you in. And if you feel like it would be too much, you could always pay something but then you could quit that crappy job and just work at the grocery store.”

“Kyoko… we already talked about it. I appreciate you and your parents' good heart and intentions but I can handle everything.” She nodded. “And I know I can always count on you.”

“Always.” And she held you from the arm. “Now let’s go and eat something. My treat.” You were about to protest when Kyoko cut you off. “No excuses, you deserve me to invite you especially because my poor best friend is going to have to put up with her least favorite person in the world for three months.”

“Ugh!” You rolled your eyes. “Please don’t remind me of that.”

Both of you laughed and made your way straight to the cafeteria, your stomachs growling with hunger. You had only managed to gulp down a coffee that morning to wake up, and now you were convinced you could devour the entire menu. Taking your usual seats at the table, Kyoko headed to order your food. The cafeteria buzzed with activity, students weaving in and out while conversations filled the air. You glanced at your phone, hoping for some notifications, but all you found were promotional emails from the supermarket.

Kyoko returned with the food, setting it down in front of you, and you delved into a conversation about Kyoko's recent date. It seemed the boy had shown a keen interest in her, but your friend hadn't felt the same way about him. Being the kind-hearted person she was, Kyoko struggled with how to gently let him know she wasn't interested in continuing to see him.

“Oh shit…” Kyoko whispered.

“What?”

“Don’t turn around but I think a certain someone is coming here.” Your eyebrow arched and you clenched your fists.

“Tell me that the certain someone doesn’t have white hair…” Kyoko grimaced and by the time you wanted to say something, the person responsible for your headache at that very moment had sat down next to you.

“Hello ladies!!” He talked with the happiest tone. He called your name but you ignored him, you didn’t want to interact with him, not even a bit. “I don’t think we know each other. I’m Satoru Gojo.” He talked to Kyoko.

“Kyoko. And we actually share a class together.”

“Oh! We do? Sorry I can’t remember it. But it is nice to meet you, Kyoko.”

“Satoru…” Another male voice spoke behind you. Your head was really going to explode.

“Oh Suguru! Come here!” He moved his hand, pointing at the seat next to Kyoko.

“Satoru… why don’t you leave the girls eating alone.” The boy of dark hair looked at his friend and then at both of you. “I'm sorry for bothering you.”

“It’s okay, don't worry.” Kyoko smiled back at him.

“Come on Suguru! Let’s eat with them… I need to spend more time with my classmate, right birdie?” You looked at him.

“Who are you calling birdie?” You were angry, why was he giving you nicknames like you have known each other for years or like you were close.

“Oh so now you pay attention to me…” He smirked and tilted his head as he rested it on his hand and looked at you.

You snorted and pushed the plate away. “Kyoko, I have to go or I'll be late.” You said goodbye to Gojo's friend, who you assumed was called Suguru, and ignored Gojo.

“Take care.” You heard Kyoko. “And sent me a message once you arrived home from the bar!” You gave her a thumbs up and left the cafeteria.

You felt uneasy. What was Gojo Satoru playing at, giving you a nickname? And that look he just gave you—what was that about? You couldn't stand it. Sinking into your seat on the bus, you put on your headphones, seeking a brief respite before reaching your workplace. You were scheduled to work for five hours, followed by a rush to the bar, where you'd likely be working until 2 a.m., if luck was on your side.

As your eyelids grew heavy, you recognized the familiar streets passing by. With just a few stops left until your destination, you stretched out in your seat and rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the fatigue.

You got out of the bus and walked a few steps until you reached the small grocery store where you work. You still had 5 minutes left to work but between changing and preparing everything the time would arrive. You greeted Yu who was behind the counter serving a customer and went to the employee room at the back.

“You are early.” Haibara entered the room.

“I’m 5 minutes earlier… is not THAT early.” You smiled at him.

“You know you can always take the day off and rest. I can cover you if you need it, you look so tired.”

“I’m okay but thank you Haibara.”

“Okay! Then if you are taking my place I will get going. A friend of mine is waiting for me.” You nodded. “Call me if you need anything.”

You waved goodbye to him and observed as he rendezvoused with a tall blonde guy outside the store, someone you vaguely recognized from campus. Throughout the afternoon, several children trickled in to purchase trinkets, occasionally accompanied by adults picking up a few items. The day had been relatively quiet, affording you the opportunity to jot down some notes and review your studies.

As closing time approached, the sliding door chimed open once more, signaling the arrival of another customer. However, you were preoccupied assisting a lady who was meticulously counting the coins needed to pay for her purchase.

“Thank you so much darling.” She said once you were done with her. “Have a nice night.”

“Thanks to you! And please come here again.”

“Hello birdie!” Your mouth opened slightly when you saw who was waiting to be served and the last customer of the day.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” You screamed angrily.

He looked down and moved the bottle he was holding. “Buying something to drink.” He smiled, showing his perfect smile.

“Here?” He nodded. “In this grocery store?” He nodded again. “Of this unknown neighborhood?” He nodded once again. “Gojo…” You touched your head, closing your eyes. “I don’t know what you want or your intentions but don’t you dare bother me anymore.”

“I already told you birdie I’m here, to buy this.” He put the bottle in front of you.

“There you have it. Now, bye.” You turned around and started cleaning some things that were around. It was time to close and you needed to hurry up to got to the bar.

You picked up and changed into the clothes you had come in. For a moment you had to lean against the wall, for an hour or so you had been dizzy and nauseous, but you couldn't allow yourself to be absent. You turned off the lights and closed the grocery store.

“What are you still doing here?” You turned around to look at Gojo who was right in front of the shop.

He walked smiling towards you. “Waiting for you.”

You rolled your eyes, couldn’t he understand you or something. “Well, I don’t want you to be waiting for me. So now… BYE!” And you started moving towards the bar.

“Oh c’mon.” He said your name this time. “Let me accompany you to your house or at least near it. It’s not good for a girl to…”

“Are you a stalker?” Gojo opened his mouth. “And I’m not going home, I need to get to work and because of you I might be late.”

“Work? But you just get out of it.” He walked next to you. “Why would you have two works…”

“Listen Gojo! Not everyone is born on a silver spoon. Some of us have to work our asses out to get the things we want.” You were tired. “You are lucky your parents probably get you everything they want for you but not everyone is that lucky.”

“You’re pale. Are you okay?” You certainly weren’t, but you couldn't afford to be, you had to go to work. “Oh shit! You might have a fever.” His hand was on your forehead, wait when did he get that close?

“Leave me…” Everything was spinning around.

“Hey!” You felt how Gojo held you, preventing you from falling to the ground, and then everything went black.

You weren't certain how long you had been unconscious, but it was certainly for a considerable amount of time. As you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself surrounded by darkness, with only a faint glow of outside light seeping into the room. Despite the dimness, you were able to swiftly recognize your surroundings. You were in Kyoko's room, but how had you ended up there? The last memory you could recall was being with Gojo before blacking out.

“Kyoko?” You whispered. You were confused and still feeling sick.

You saw how a silhouette moved to grab something from the table and then a light from the cell phone illuminated the room.

Kyoko whispered your name. “How are you feeling?”

“Still dizzy…” You touched your head. “How did I get here?”

“Satoru called me.” You looked at her confused, since when she called him Satoru and since when did she have his number. “Don’t look at me like that, when you left I stayed with him and with his friend, Suguru and they are pretty nice guys.” You rolled your eyes. “And his friend is pretty cute.”

“Kyoko…”

“What? It’s true, he was so polite and nice and did you know he studies…”

“Do you like him?”

“I mean… it’s early to say that but I would love to go out with him sometime.” Your friend smiled.

“You remember that there is a guy still waiting for an answer from you right?”

Kyoko pouted. “I know… I will let him know I’m not interested, because it’s true I’m not.”

“Good…”

“But now to what is important.” Oh here it came. “What would you have done if Satoru wasn’t there when you fainted?”

“I… it was just a coincidence. I was totally find this morning.”

Kyoko said your name heavily. “How much have you slept this week? And be honest with me.”

You thought for a moment. “5 hours…”

“That’s not bad, I thought you were going to say something like 2 hours.”

“In the last 3 days…”

Kyoko opened her mouth, letting a gasp out. “Are you insane? You want to die or something?”

“Sorry! But college and the jobs… the jobs, my shift on the bar…”

“Relax. I called them and told them you were sick after Satoru called me.” You breathed in relief. “But don’t try to change the topic. 5 hours in 3 days?! That’s inhuman and you can’t keep going like this.”

“And what do I do Kyoko?” You pulled the sheets up to your face.

“Stay here… we have a spare room, you can stay there.” You growled, Kyoko knew that was too much. Even if you were her best friend, you were still someone from outside the family. “You can pay a minimum if that will make you feel better, but if you stay here you wouldn’t have to pay the rent you are paying right now and you wouldn’t have to work at that shitty bar.”

“I… I will think about it okay…” Kyoko nodded.

“Now go back to sleep.”

“Okay…” You closed your eyes.

“And by the way.” Kyoko spoke again. “Start thinking what you are going to say to Satoru, you throw up on him.”

“I… WHAT?” Your eyes opened like plates.

“Good night~”

“No Kyoko, tell me! What do you mean I threw up on Gojo?” You cried.

“Go to sleep.”

You groaned, feeling utterly mortified at the thought of having thrown up on Gojo. This was beyond embarrassing—how were you supposed to face him and apologize for such a humiliating incident? The desire to vanish into thin air consumed you. Your head spun with the aftermath of the situation, and before you knew it, you had drifted off to sleep.

Upon waking up again, you sensed that several hours had passed; sunlight now flooded through the window, illuminating the room entirely. Kyoko was nowhere to be seen, and you sat up in bed, stretching your stiff body. You felt utterly filthy after experiencing fever and vomiting; a shower was desperately needed.

Searching for your phone to check the time, you discovered several messages awaiting your attention—some from Kyoko and others from an unknown number.

Kyoko ☀️

Rest as much as you want. My mom left you food prepared in the kitchen but you will be alone for most of the day.

You can take my clothes if you want.

And don’t worry about the classes I will take the notes for you.

And by the way, I’m sorry and I love you 😘

Sorry? For what? You tapped on the unknown number and then you understood why she was sorry.

xxxx

Hellooooo birdie !!

Kyoko gave me your number, don’t get angry at her.

I hope you feel better soon

You clenched your fists and sighed, now you would have to endure it because of your cell phone too.

You to Kyoko ☀️

You should be grateful I love you so much and I won’t kill you.

And thanks, I will be taking a shower and do you mind if I take one of your pajamas?

Kyoko ☀️

Everything that’s mine is yours 😘

You rolled your eyes at your friend. And opened once again the chat of Gojo. How should you respond to him? Should you apologize for throwing up at him? Should you just be as cold as always? The guy was messaging you after you fainted and threw up on him, he didn’t deserve to be treated coldly although you wanted to.

You to Pain in the ass

Hi. I’m good

Thanks for yesterday and sorry for what happened…

Also stop calling me birdie, people would think we are close or something

Leaving your phone on the table, you grabbed one of Kyoko's pajamas and made your way to the bathroom. Compared to a few hours ago, you felt significantly better; the fever seemed to have subsided or at least diminished in intensity. After a refreshing shower, you changed into the pajamas and headed to the kitchen.

True to Kyoko's word, her mother had left a plate of food prepared for you. Grateful for the gesture, you sat down to enjoy the meal. Retrieving your phone once more, you noticed two notifications, which came as a surprise—they were not the usual supermarket offers.

Pain in the ass

Don’t worry about it, I’m glad to hear you are okay

*This message was deleted*

What did he send and delete after?

Pain in the ass

Since you are sick we decided to accompany Kyoko for lunch!

And there was a picture of Kyoko with Gojo and two other people, the guy from yesterday, Suguru and another girl you didn’t know about. Kyoko was smiling and doing the peace sign next to Suguru, while Gojo was the one taking the selfie and showing off his perfect teeth.

You to Pain in the ass

You better treat Kyoko right, or you will hear from me once I’m back at class.

It was hard to believe you were talking so casually with him. You shook your head, talking like that on the phone was just a way of being polite with him, nothing else.

Pain in the ass

If that way I get you to talk to me

You stayed looking at the message for a couple of minutes. Something on your stomach was moving. Stupid Satoru Gojo.

You to Pain in the ass

By the way, do I need to pay you something… for you know…

Pain in the ass

For what?

You to Pain in the ass

Don’t make me say it, it’s way too embarrassing.

Pain in the ass

If you don’t tell me what I won’t know 🤷

You to Pain in the ass

Throwing up on you!

Do I need to pay for something? Like dry cleaning or something?

Pain in the ass

Hehe

You wanted to punch him, he obviously knew.

Pain in the ass

Nop, you don’t need to pay anything. Don’t worry 😉

You to Pain in the ass

Okay, now I will leave to sleep

Don’t bother me Gojo!

Pain in the ass

Alright birdie!!

Rest well. I don’t want you throwing up and fainting in the arms of other people

You to Pain in the ass

Say something like that again and I’m blocking you

Pain in the ass

🥺

You rolled your eyes and left the phone once again. He really was a pain in the ass. You went to Kyoko’s room and lay down on her bed, although you were feeling better, you were still feeling tired, so you decided to sleep for a bit more, at least until Kyoko returned home.

You heard a door close and someone walk down the hall in silence. You knew it was Kyoko when she entered the room. She walked up to you and you smiled at her when your eyes met.

“You look better.”

“I feel better.” You say stretching on yourself. “I feel like I have slept everything I haven’t slept in a month.” You looked at Kyoko and she was doing a grimace of disgust. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Have you thought about it? About moving here?”

You did. You thought about it a lot, but you couldn't deny that you were at a point where if you continued at that pace you would end up killing yourself.

“I will.” Kyoko screamed with happiness. “But only if your parents are okay with it.”

“And they are! Don’t worry.” She started clapping and jumped out of bed with happiness. “By the way, I’m surprised you met Satoru yesterday at the grocery store.”

You looked at her strangely. “Didn't you tell her where she worked?” Kyoko shook her head.

And then it hit you, you haven't told Haibara that you would not be going to work today, he would probably be covering for you and you would have to tell him.

“Shit… Where is my phone?” You looked around.

“Who is Pain in the ass?” Kyoko hang you the phone.

“It’s Gojo…” She nodded while you searched for the number of Haibara on your phone. “Haibara!” You said when you heard him picking up. “Yeah it’s me… I’m so sorry, I’m sick and I couldn’t go today… I hope you-” Kyoko looked at you when felt silent. “What do you mean you already knew? Who told you?” Kyoko watched you with interest trying something of what was said on the other end of the phone. “Oh… okay. I will thank him then… Yeah. Bye.” And you throw the phone to the side.

“What’s with that face?”

“Gojo Satoru told my coworker I was sick.”

“That’s pretty considerate.”

“They are friends…”

“Who?”

“My coworker and Gojo, that’s why he appeared there.” You realized. “Probably Haibara told him and he came to bother.”

Kyoko called your name and you looked at her. “I don’t think he went to bother you…”

“Well… but it’s strange he went all the way to that place! Why would he go if it wasn’t to bother me?”

Your best friend sighed and closed her eyes, whispering something you could not hear and then looked back at you. “Thanks he was there. Or who knows what would have happened to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are right. And I already thanked him.”

“Oh you did?”

“Don’t act surprised when you were the one that gave him my number.”

She put her hands in the air and smiled. “Sorry. But he was really, REALLY insistent…”

“I can imagine.”

“He sent you a message right? What did he say?”

You took the phone and unlocked it to see the message that Gojo sent you.

Pain in the ass

I'll save you place next to me in class for tomorrow 🙆

What’s up with him?

“Oh…” Kyoko smiled next to you.

“What?”

“Nothing… figure it out yourself baby.” She smiled.

“Kyoko… Kyoko, what did that oh ment, come back here.” You followed her through the corridor while she laughed.

“No.” She continued laughing. “Oh!” She stopped walking and turned to look at you. “I already sent a message to the guy.”

“Finally.”

“Yeah…”

“You? Are you really going to try and go out with Gojo’s friend?”

She shrugged and smiled. The fact that Kyoko started dating Gojo's friend didn't particularly bother you, but it did mean potentially spending even more time with Gojo than you had anticipated. The mere thought made your head ache again. However, before dealing with that, you needed to figure out how to face Satoru Gojo tomorrow. It would mark the first encounter since... that incident.

Note: a comment and a like would be appreciated. Also comment to be tagged in the chapters

Tag list: @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke

[i-woke-up-at-4am-for-this]

Otter Neuvillette

Neuvillette x GN!Reader

Summary: There is one secret about Neuvillette that no one in Teyvat knows: he has the remarkable ability to shape-shift into a cute sea otter. This unique ability is a reflection of his deep connection to water and his desire for moments of solitude and peace.

One fateful day, as you collect data on plant species along the coast, you come across a disturbing scene. A lone sea otter, under attack by Fontemer Aberrant Crabs, struggles for its life.

A/N: This is my first time writing ^^

On an idyllic day in the tranquil Beryl Region, you were leisurely gathering data on the local plant species. The gentle rhythm of your exploration led you to the shoreline, where an unsettling sight unfolded before you. A lone sea otter, besieged by a group of menacing Fontemer Aberrant Crabs, fought desperately for its life. Without a second thought, you sprang into action, unaware that this seemingly ordinary otter concealed an extraordinary identity—the very Chief Justice of Fontaine, Monsieur Neuvillette himself.

Approaching the scene, you raised your voice to divert the crabs' attention away from the distressed otter. "Hey!" you shouted, flinging rocks towards the aggressors to protect the otter. As the crabs retreated into the ocean, you cautiously approached the otter, who had huddled into a protective ball, concealing its face with its paws.  "Hey there, little buddy," you whispered soothingly, crouching down to its level and tenderly caressing its head. With gentle strokes, you comforted the otter, who responded with a soft chirp, its eyes filled with gratitude.

Concerned for the otter's well-being, you inquired, though fully aware that animals couldn't comprehend human language, "Where's your family, buddy?" However, your attention was soon drawn to the otter's wounded arm, a clear reminder of the recent struggle. "Oh, you poor thing," you sympathized, "Let me tend to your injuries before you swim back home." Scooping the otter gently into your arms, you made your way back to your nearby campsite, your heart touched by the vulnerable creature in your care.

Settling the otter on a soft blanket at your campsite, you meticulously cleansed its wounds with a clean cloth, offering solace and relief from its pain. The otter seemed to find comfort in your presence, nuzzling its body and face against your hands as you tenderly attended to its injuries.

"Are you hungry, little one?" you inquired, rummaging through your supplies and offering a raw fish. To your surprise, the otter seemed uninterested in the fish but eagerly eyed a plate of sandwiches you had prepared for dinner. "You prefer a tuna sandwich, perhaps?"

The otter's eyes widened with anticipation upon spotting the tuna sandwich, and it chirped with enthusiasm, extending a paw toward the plate, as if imploring you to share. With a warm smile, you obliged, offering the otter the prized sandwich, which it eagerly devoured. It was evident that this was a particular culinary delight for the otter.

Even after savoring its meal to satisfaction, the otter continued to nuzzle and seek your companionship, its eyes conveying a heartfelt desire to remain by your side. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soothing glow across the landscape, you contemplated the otter's silent plea, tempted to let it spend the night alongside you.

"Hmm... You still need time to heal," you mused, gently petting the otter, your fingers tracing its unique features, "Maybe you can sleep with me. It's dangerous for you to be out alone at night." While your heart longed to keep this adorable creature with you, your conscience reminded you of the importance of wildlife preservation. "Animals belong in the wild, and I think I could get into trouble if I keep one for myself," you sighed, resigned to your role as a temporary protector, "Oh well, I'm going to cuddle with you to my heart's content tonight, my little baby!" With that, you bestowed a gentle kiss upon the otter's fluffy cheek.

The otter responded with an affectionate nuzzle, its whiskers fluttering with delight. As the sun dipped below the horizon, you and the otter nestled against each other, lulled by the soothing sounds of the ocean.

Morning arrived, and you woke up feeling a weight on your chest. Groggily, your hand began to explore the unexpected presence, and you muttered, "Baby, you feel so heavy." Your eyes snapped open as your fingers encountered smooth, silky hair, not fur. To your astonishment, you discovered the Chief Justice, Monsieur Neuvillette, lying on your chest.

Gasping in disbelief, you opened your eyes to behold the Chief Justice, his supple body nestled within your embrace. His expression mirrored your shock, a deep shade of crimson flushing across his face. "Er... it's.... It's not what it looks like," he stammered, his gaze shifting away in embarrassment. He struggled to find words to explain the unexpected situation, his composure faltering. "I... um... I..."

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of confusion and embarrassment. "Monsieur Neuvillette? Why are you here?" you inquired, staring at the Chief Justice, utterly perplexed. He still appeared flustered, and you urged him to collect his thoughts.

Recalling that you had tended to an injured otter, not the Chief Justice, and not recalling any alcoholic consumption, a wild idea crossed your mind. "I know it sounds crazy, but... were you the otter I saved yesterday?"

The Chief Justice furrowed his brows, his face reddening. "Ah... you remember?" he admitted with a quiet sigh. "Yes, I was indeed the otter you saved yesterday." He confessed, his embarrassment palpable. "It was an accident. I thought I'd just transform briefly to calm myself down, not expecting you to actually..." He stuttered awkwardly.

It was a revelation beyond your wildest imagination—the typically stoic Chief Justice harboring such an adorable and unexpected secret. You couldn't help but chuckle softly to yourself. "It's fine; I only did what was right," you assured him. However, the proximity of his body atop yours was causing a different kind of fluster. "Um... Monsieur Neuvillette, do you need something to cover yourself?" You averted your gaze, your cheeks now sporting a deep blush, and it was then that you both realized the rather compromising position you were in.

With a light chuckle, Neuvillette acknowledged his state of undress, his own cheeks flushed. "Er... ah... y-yes, please," he replied, turning away to search for a cloth to preserve his modesty. Once found, he hastily draped it over himself, providing a semblance of cover. He let out a sigh of relief, rubbing the back of his neck, his nervousness still evident. "Ahem... th-thank you."

It became apparent that Monsieur Neuvillette had no immediate intention of returning to the Court of Fontaine. "You're welcome to stay here a bit longer until your injuries heal," you offered, extending a welcoming smile.

Neuvillette's expression softened, a small smile gracing his lips. "If it's alright with you… I'd like to stay a while longer to finish recovering, that is" he admitted, his tone still somewhat awkward. The allure of your tranquil campsite seemed to be drawing him in, despite his official duties.

You patted the makeshift bed, inviting him to join you, and Neuvillette accepted the gesture, his body sinking into the mattress. He smiled, letting out another sigh of relaxation as he gazed up at the sky. "It's remarkably peaceful here," Neuvillette remarked. "Much better than my office at the Court of Fontaine." He sighed deeply, a sense of calm enveloping him. Your proximity offered a sense of peace that contrasted starkly with his usual courtroom environment.

As you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around him, Neuvillette's heart raced with a strange mix of emotions. He felt both comforted and unsettled, unable to fully comprehend the feelings that had arisen within him. His eyes met the serene horizon, and he sighed, trying to make sense of it all.

"It's hard to believe that even in your non-otter form, you're still quite adorable, Monsieur Neuvillette," you whispered, closing your eyes and drifting back to sleep.

Neuvillette blushed once more, his heart pounding in his chest as he lay beside you. The warmth of your embrace filled him with both comfort and a newfound sense of vulnerability. He allowed himself to enjoy the moment, not fully comprehending the depth of his feelings. As he closed his eyes and drifted into slumber once more, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for this unexpected connection.

[sanjoongie]

𝕴'𝖒 𝖆 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖊

🥀Pairing: Ren Honjo! Song Mingi x Nana Osaki! Reader (f)

🥀Genre: smut, angst

🥀Au: Nana au, Manga au, Rockstar au

🥀Trope: ex to lovers

🥀Word Count: 2,472

🥀Warnings: public sex, wall sex, sex with a condom, fingering (f), thick and long dick! Mingi

🥀Rated: 18+ MDNI

🥀Summary: when you meet your rocker ex boyfriend after finishing a set yourself, can you hold yourself back from the man that broke your heart?

🥀Author’s Note: to the only Leo I know 🥰 I tried my best to write something that you would love. I'm still learning what it means to be your friend, but I love learning, so this is a great journey. Please accept this humble Mingi fic and I hope you have an amazing birthday my love

🥀also, if you're not listening to Rose by Anna Tsuchiya while reading this, you're not doing it right 😉

The crowd screamed your name and your bands as you finished the last song of your set. It was a small venue, celebrating your small town and the famous people that hailed from it. Your band had been one of the big sellers, still being a local group, but the headliner had been your ex, Mingi’s. You hoped to hell that he saw all these people who were screaming your name. It would be the perfect revenge.

“Hey, I’m going to go outside for a smoke,” You said to your guitarist.

“Throw a jacket on! You’re going to catch a cold!” The drummer yelled.

Your bassist passed his lighter to you and you took it with thanks.

You pushed open the heavy door to the back stage, your leather jacket sitting on your shoulders. You pulled out the pack of cigarettes you preferred and lit one up. You had one minute of complete solace as the late winter snow fell around you when the door flew open. Out stepped your ex, Song Mingi.

“Hey.”

You took a long drag of your black cigarette and willing your face to not show how fast your heart was beating. “What’s up, Mingi? Long time no see.”

That was an undersell, and you knew it. Mingi had gotten big with a band that wasn’t yours. You played it cool, tried to pretend that the betrayal, the heartbreak, hadn't torn you asunder but there were nights that you let your mascara smear as you chugged back the cheap kind of beer that only Mingi liked.

“Yeah. It’s been a bit.” Mingi attempted to light his cigarette with a cheap Bic, and you sighed.

“All that money and you can’t even afford a good lighter?” You flashed the Vivienne Westwood necklace lighter your bandmate had given you.

Mingi leaned in, dark eyes meeting yours as he waited for you to light his cigarette. You managed to get the lighter lit without trembling, and soon Mingi was puffing his cigarette. You let a small sigh out when he leaned back.

“You know, I never did it for the money,” Mingi said as he exhaled.

You scoffed at Mingi’s facade. “Mingi, you were poor as fuck back then. Bullshit you didn’t do it for the money.”

Mingi smirked and shrugged one shoulder. “Okay, but that wasn't the main reason. You know why I did it.”

“Big arena concerts, thousands of fans screaming your name, yeah I get it, Mingi,” you said dryly.

The only sound is the embers at the end of your respective cigarettes burning cheerfully.

“So, how have you been?” Mingi prompted you.

You let out a loud noise of frustration. “Nah, I’m not about to do this with you, Mingi.”

Mingi looked at you, bewildered. “Do what?”

You pushed your cigarette against the brick wall to put it out before you chucked it to the ground. “Small talk, beating around the bush, trying to find out if there’s a back door you can slip through. Fuck you, Mingi, I’m not doing that.” You walked past Mingi to get back to the door you had propped open with an empty beer bottle.

Mingi grabbed at your wrist to stop you, dropping his in the process. “Hey, Babe, don’t--”

“Don’t you touch me!” You shrieked. You ripped your arm out of your ex’s grip.

Mingi threw his hands up in defeat. “Sure sure, just hear me out for a minute.”

“And don’t call me Babe!” You continued to shout, your shoulders heaving with how worked up you were getting. “You don’t get to call me that.”

Mingi had the audacity to look a little crestfallen but put back on his signature smirk. “I still have your lock, you know.”

“Yeah I fucking know, Mingi,” You spat. “Every damn interview you get asked about it and you say some bullshit like the love of your life gave you it.”

Mingi raised his eyebrows at you. “You listen to my interviews?”

You felt your face heat up in shame at getting caught keeping up with Mingi. “That’s besides the point, you prick, you know damn well I’m not the love of your life.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. “That’s not bullshit. You are still the love of my life. You just have to make it big and then--”

You threw your head back and cackled. “Oh, that’s rich.”

“What?” Mingi’s fists curled at his sides. “What’s this attitude all about? We agreed amicably that we should break up. It would be too hard to keep up our relationship while my contract got signed. But once you become a celebrity, it will be easy to fly to each other’s concerts and--”

“I’m going to have my own life,” you interrupted Mingi’s grand speech. “I’ve got my own band, my own road to run down. No. That life you’ve got in your head, you have to bury that.”

“Huh?” Mingi used his big body to his advantage and pinned you in between his body and the wall, his arms barring your way. “No way. No fucking way. That’s the plan!”

You’re shocked when you look up and see that Mingi’s got tears in his eyes. “I’ve been working myself to the bone so that I can have so much money that none of that old shit matters! The end game is for us to be together. That will never change.”

You feel yourself softening. Goddamn it. “Mingi, there’s no way. If I make it big, that will only make our schedules that much more chaotic. It would never work. You’ve got your life and I’ll live mine. Just be happy if we both get to attain our dreams.”

“When.” Mingi insisted stubbornly. “When we attain our dreams.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “I’m doing my best.”

Mingi bit down on his lower lip. “Let me talk to my manager, maybe we can get you as an opener, maybe--”

“No.” You held up your hand. “I’m doing it on my own, Mingi. If I can’t make it with my own talent, then I can’t make it at all.”

Mingi’s eyes scan your face, eyes moving back and forth, fondness shining from them. “It’s really good to see you.”

“Mingi,” you growled.

Mingi smiled. “You look really good, Babe.”

“Mingi, stop.”

Mingi closed his eyes and inhaled. “You smell good, too.”

“We can’t do this, Mingi.” You swallowed loudly. “I can’t do this.”

“We’re like magnets, Babe,” Mingi said in a low, husky tone. “We just can’t resist.”

You crumbled when Mingi’s ringed hand cupped your jaw, and he slanted his head as if he was going to kiss you. Only he halted, only a tongue’s lick away from kissing you. “Tell me no. I’ll go back in.”

The piece of shit knew he had you, he just wanted to gloat that he had you once again. You grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket with both hands. “Just fucking kiss me already!”

Mingi’s mouth smashed against your mouth, tasting like the cheap beer he adored. His tongue played with yours, plunging in and out. It was messy and hot, just like how Mingi preferred it. His big hand gripped the side of your head, keeping you in place while he kissed you senseless.

It was when his other hand began to inch up your thigh to pull up your miniskirt that you rose to the surface in the puddle of lust you had become. “Wait, Mingi, not here.”

Mingi smirked against your lips. “Where else are we gonna go, Babe?” His fingers followed the garter belt, callused fingertips caressing your hip bone. “It’ll be like old times, huh, fucking in the alley after a set?”

You couldn't help but moan. Mingi made everything sound so simple and perfect. “I’m not ready--”

It took no time at all for Mingi’s fingers to rub against your clit through your underwear. “I got you, don’t worry, Babe.”

You whined and squirmed against the brick wall as Mingi played with you through your underwear. He made maddening slow circles around and around the bundle of nerves. He made you an absolute wreck in no time. It was his way of telling you that no time had passed between you two; that he still knew how to push all your buttons. Mingi pushed his hand further between your legs, poking one long digit against your hole, making you cry out.

“You’ve got a wet spot, Babe,” he chuckled like that was the best compliment he could have received from you. “I think you’re ready now.”

You would have rode his fingers to find your high. You felt a wave of heat flash through your body once again at that realization. “I--”

Mingi’s deep voice cut through your worries immediately. “You didn’t think I’d come back here without a condom, did you? It’s cute and pink, just the way you like them.”

You watched as Mingi pulled a condom from his back pocket. He ripped it open with his teeth, holding it there until he had unbuttoned his belt and pushed his pants down--of course that fucker had gone commando. His cock practically strained past his belly button. You breathed in and out deeply. There was no one like Mingi, even in this regard. Mingi pushed the condom down his length.

“I…I didn’t stretch you. Is it going to be okay?” Mingi asked. His words were worried but he rubbed the head of his condom-covered dick against your sensitive clit, making you cry out.

You cocked a leg to curl around his hip and you pulled your underwear aside. “Just go slow, okay? I’ll be fine.”

Mingi smiled and nodded. “I remember.”

You both groaned loudly when he began to push into you. He would pause every half inch, if only to pull out and push back again. He continued to make headway like that, slow and steady pushing apart your walls, allowing you to adapt to his girth and length.

“Ho-hold me up?” You managed to stutter as Mingi was halfway there.

Mingi nodded, teeth dug deep into his bottom lip. You jumped up a little, swinging your other leg around Mingi’s small waist. Mingi’s hand caught at the small of your back to brace you, and you managed to sink the rest of him inside of you.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” You moaned, drawn out and blissed out.

“I can move, right? Please say I can move,” Mingi pleaded.

“Yeah, yeah give it a--oh my fucking god, Mingi!” You couldn't help but cry out as Mingi moved languidly inside of you. You could feel every fucking inch of him and--you had forgotten what it felt like to be filled up by Song Mingi.

Mingi leaned in for a messy kiss while he continued to wave his body between your legs. He didn’t pound into you, still cautious of his length and girth. That alone told you that he still cared about how you felt, that he still--

You quickly gripped his face harshly with one hand, the glint of your black, sharp nails nice against his bronze skin. “Fuck me, Mingi.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Ar-are you sure? I can hold back, I can go as slow as you need.”

“What I need is for you to fuck me,” You insisted.

Mingi hooked one leg, then the other with both his arms, and then you were at the mercy of his stroke. And damn his stroke game was good. His rhythm of pounding into you was a shock to your system. He continued to rub up against your g-spot, he even hit the end of you, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Mingi started to chant. “Fuck this cunt. Oh god. How are you still able to take me like this? You’re so fucking wet too, I know you’re loving this. Fuck, Babe, I’m kinda in love with you all over again, you know that? We should reconnect, we should--”

“Mingi!” You shouted. “How about we come first, hmmm?” You sucked on your middle finger and brought it down to your clit, letting out a low moan.

Mingi looked like he had just been insulted. Of course, he could make you come untouched. What was your finger doing? He growled, tearing it away and pushing his body even tighter into you. There wasn’t room for anything other than his cock pushing in and out of you. It was only when you heard his tiny moans that you knew he was getting close.

You pressed his head into the crook of your neck and began to verbally encourage him. “Come on, Mingi, come inside of me. You gonna fill that condom right up, hmmm? Give me something to fuck myself on my fingers later, eh?”

Mingi groaned loudly and unloaded inside the condom. His last few thrusts sent you over the edge, too, and you saw stars. That bastard still knew how to make you come, even after all these years.

“Oh, fuck,” Mingi groaned, his voice sounding a little raw.

You tapped on his bicep, and he let one leg go. But he didn’t move back. Nor did he pull out. He continued to stay tucked against the nape of your neck.

“Mingi,” you prompted.

“I… I don’t want to leave.”

You sighed. “I gotta get back soon. Someone is going to check on me. My bandmates actually care about me.”

Mingi pulled back, but only enough so he could read your face. “You’re just going to go back in there? Like nothing happened between us?”

You avoided Mingi’s gaze. “Yeah. That was the plan.”

Mingi gripped the padlock around his neck. “Only you have the key to this.”

“Should have thought about that when you left, huh?”

Mingi pulled out of you. He removed the condom and threw it next to your discarded cigarette. “Sure, sure,” he said almost amicably.

You put your underwear back in place and straightened your mini skirt. “It’s better that way.”

“Yeah.” Mingi’s voice was cracking. Shit. He was crying.

You opened the door and stood there, holding it open. “Listen. If you come back in here and sign something for one of my members, they're a really big fan, then we can think about--MINGI!”

Your ex wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up. “I love you,” he said, sniffles muffled against your back.

This shit was messy. But then again, things with Mingi usually were.

“Let me go! I said if! Don’t get your hopes up,” You grumbled.

“You wait. It’ll all work out. I just know it,” Mingi insisted, letting you down.

And maybe, deep down, you believed that, in the pieces of your heart that Mingi had broken. It was like… you needed his love, like a broken rose.

[theminecraftbee]

> check social links

(Which Social Link should I check on...?)

0 FOOL School Rescue Committee Should this really be an official school club? The group of Persona-users that I'm in now, whether I like it or not. At least I'm helping people by doing all this weird magic nonsense...

I MAGICIAN Scar A fellow Persona-user a year below me, although my senior in fighting Shadows. He's dragged me into his scam crystal-selling operation, which is actually weirdly fun.

II PRIESTESS Beef Pretty large and muscular for a priestess, but sure, I'll bite. A volunteer EMT who is trying to decide whether to follow his family's wishes for university.

III EMPRESS Gem A fellow Persona-user in my year. She wants me to help her study for entrance exams, apparently. Not sure why she's asking me, I missed an entire semester? But it's good enough study for me as well.

IV EMPEROR Impulse A fellow Persona-user in my year. He has a single-minded devotion to overworking himself, despite the fact he seems to be trying to prove it's fine for some reason.

V HIEROPHANT Xisuma An older man who hangs out in the local tea shop. Keeps trying to parent me for some reason, although it seems like his relationship with his actual family's a bit less good, so maybe that's why.

VI LOVERS Etho My lab partner. The whole school's obsessed with him for some reason. My only solace is that he seems to be just as disconcerted by that fact as I am.

VII CHARIOT Skizzleman A fellow Persona-user in my year, and my first friend in this town. I'm helping him find a part-time job. He's sort of ridiculously cheerful, but I know he understands me better than most people.

VIII JUSTICE Grian A fellow Persona-user a year below me, although my senior in fighting Shadows. Keeps dragging me into his pranks, although for such a gregarious guy, he's weirdly isolated.

IX HERMIT Joe Hills One of my teachers, and the head of the School Rescue Committee. He's, frankly, the most bizarre guy I know, and I don't know what to make of any of the "wisdom" he tries to impart on us.

X FORTUNE Tango Apparently, he's a bit of a prodigy in the robotics club, but he first came to me to confess he's considering quitting. I have no idea why this is my problem, but Impulse frowned at me about it, so here I am.

XI STRENGTH False A local martial artist who's been decorated with a number of titles. I just wanted her to teach me how to fight better, but apparently, she's starting to doubt her own fighting ability as well.

XII HANGED MAN Jimmy Igor's assistant in the Velvet Room. He's a bit of an idiot, but he's also my idiot. Mostly wants to request I escort him to places in the human world, although he wants specific fusions sometimes too.

XIII DEATH Cleo A "florist" in town who can source us weapons and fence goods from Altered Space. I'm pretty sure she's actually Yakuza, or at least criminal. She and Joe know each other, although strangely, she doesn't seem to remember from where.

XIV TEMPERANCE Iskall and Stress Two priests at the local shrine. I work for them occasionally to help them with odd jobs around town. They share some common past they don't like to talk about.

XV DEVIL Ren The student council president. He's bizarrely mad with power on a good day, which is weird, because he's also bizarrely kickable on a good day. Keeps on trying to rope me into the Student Council.

XVI TOWER Doc An inventor trying to invent a safe new clean energy source. According to rumors, his last try exploded, killing his lab partner, which constantly makes me question why I'm here.

XVII STAR Zedaph Proprietor of the famous local "Mystery Stir Fry Extravaganza". Frankly, his creations terrify me more than Doc's do. I have no idea why this is Impulse's favorite restaurant.

XVIII MOON Mumbo A fellow Persona-user in the year below me. Apparently, he still gets bullied a lot, but he has a scheme to, and I quote, 'learn to be something scary, like a horse.' Good luck with that, mate.

XIX SUN Pearl An artist that I've always admired. Recently, she was in a terrible car accident, and her hands now constantly shake because of it. I still think she can draw organic shapes better than me, though.

XX JUDGEMENT Soul Reappearance Committee Judgement. Hah. I guess you'd call this Judgement Day, sure.

XXI THE WORLD ... It's me.

[transform4u]

Give it a shot...

My name is Ethan, a 32-year-old guy navigating the bustling world of information technology in a prestigious law firm nestled in downtown Boston. I've always been the quiet and shy type, finding solace in the humming servers and lines of code that fill my workdays. My colleagues often see me hunched over my computer, absorbed in the digital intricacies that keep our legal machinery running smoothly.

Outside the office, I've carved out a peculiar routine for myself. Weekends usually find me at a local pub, tucked away in a corner, lost in my own world. The jukebox serves as my soundtrack, and I can't resist playing my favorite songs, much to the chagrin of the other patrons. One particular weekend, the bar is bathed in the soft glow of neon lights, and the familiar hum of conversations and clinking glasses fills the air.

Dressed in my usual attire, I sport a simple and unassuming wardrobe. It's a mix of muted colors and comfortable fabrics, a reflection of my desire to blend into the background. My dark-rimmed glasses perch on my nose, shielding my eyes as I immerse myself in the trivia of Jeopardy, murmuring the answers to myself.

Back in high school, I found my voice in the pages of the school newspaper. While my peers chased sports and current events, my passion lay in the realm of art and cinema. I was the quiet observer, documenting the nuances of visual storytelling and capturing the essence of creativity. Despite my reserved nature, my words found their way into the hands of my classmates. These days, the movies still call to me. I seek refuge in the dimly lit theaters, savoring the magic of storytelling on the silver screen. However, I can't help but lament the state of commercial cinema, yearning for the authenticity and depth that seems to elude the mainstream.

One fateful night at the pub, the bartender, a perceptive soul, notices the weight that I carry. There's a sadness in my eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. As I punch in another answer to a Jeopardy question, the bartender decides it's time for a change. With a knowing smile, they slide a shot toward me, a silent offering to alter the course of my life. Hesitating for a moment, I grasp the glass, feeling the coolness of the liquid against my fingers. I take a deep breath and down the shot, the warmth spreading through my chest.

As the alcohol courses through my veins, a strange sensation overtakes me. My vision blurs and a wave of dizziness sweeps over me. I grip the edge of the bar to steady myself, but the world around me seems to shift and warp. I close my eyes, hoping to regain my equilibrium, but when I open them again, the reflection in the bar's mirror is no longer mine.

Staring back at me is a completely different person. My once short and neatly combed hair has transformed into long, greasy locks that hang loosely around my face. The dark-rimmed glasses are gone, replaced by a steely gaze that exudes a newfound confidence. My wardrobe has changed as well, now a mix of edgy, provocative clothing that clings to my newly muscular frame. Tattoos snake up my arms, visible through the tight sleeves of my shirt.

I glance around the bar, the familiar faces of the patrons now looking at me with a mix of curiosity and unease. The bartender watches me closely, their expression unreadable. I feel a surge of arrogance and self-assurance that was never there before. A smirk forms on my lips as I take in the scene, realizing that I have become someone entirely different.

As I stand up from my stool, I feel the eyes of the other patrons on me. I swagger towards a group of women at a nearby table, my movements now imbued with a cocky confidence. They look up, surprised by my bold approach. I flash them a charming, yet sleazy smile, and one of them giggles nervously.

"Hey there, ladies," I say, my voice now deeper and more commanding. "Mind if I join you?"

They exchange glances, clearly intrigued by the new me. As I take a seat, I can't help but marvel at the transformation. The shy, introverted Ethan is gone, replaced by someone who commands attention and exudes a raw, almost dangerous charisma.

But beneath the surface, a part of me remains aware of the change. As I navigate this new identity, I begin to realize that this transformation may not be the blessing it first seemed. The journey ahead is uncertain, and I am left to wonder if I will ever find my way back to the person I once was, or if this new persona will consume me entirely.

As the transformation progresses, I feel my posture straighten. My shoulders square up, and my chest puffs out. I now stand taller, exuding a confidence that commands attention. My once plain and unassuming wardrobe morphs into sharp, tailored outfits that scream success and authority. The muted colors are replaced with bold, conservative hues—navy blues, crisp whites, and power reds. My clean-shaven face now sports a neatly trimmed chin strap beard, giving me a rugged, yet polished look.

The mental changes come next, swift and undeniable. The quiet introspection that once defined me is replaced by a brash, assertive persona. I find myself thinking in black-and-white terms, valuing discipline and order above all else. My views become staunchly conservative, and I develop a disdain for anything that doesn't align with my new, rigid worldview.

I stride back to the bar, my eyes scanning the room with a newfound sense of entitlement. The bartender, still watching me with that knowing smile, raises an eyebrow as I approach.

"Another round?" they ask, their tone cautious.

"Sure," I reply, my voice firm and confident. "Make it a double."

As I wait for my drink, a group of men nearby catch my eye. They're well-dressed, clearly successful, and exuding the same air of superiority that I now carry. I make my way over to them, my stride purposeful.

"Mind if I join you, gentlemen?" I ask, my tone leaving little room for refusal.

One of them, a burly man with a confident smirk, gestures for me to sit. "Go ahead. We were just talking about the latest market trends. You in finance?"

"Information technology, actually," I say, leaning back in my chair. "But I'm well-versed in market dynamics. It's all about the fundamentals."

They nod in approval, and soon we're deep in conversation. I find myself effortlessly navigating topics I once found tedious, my mind sharp and quick to align with their conservative viewpoints. As we talk, I catch a glimpse of a group of women nearby, clearly intrigued by our discussion. I flash them a confident smile, and they blush, giggling amongst themselves.

One of the men, noticing my gaze, chuckles. "Looks like you've got some admirers. You should go talk to them."

I stand up, straightening my jacket. "Don't mind if I do."

I saunter over to the women, my every movement exuding confidence. "Ladies, I couldn't help but notice you all looking over here. Interested in joining our conversation? I promise it’ll be more exciting than whatever you’ve got going on over here."

They exchange glances, clearly impressed. One of them, a brunette with a dazzling smile, speaks up. "Sure, why not? What were you guys talking about?"

"Success," I say, my smile widening. "And how to achieve it. You see, it's all about having the right mindset and not being afraid to go after what you want."

As the night progresses, I seamlessly integrate myself into the group, my new persona drawing admiration and respect. The bartender watches from afar, their knowing smile never wavering. In this moment, I feel unstoppable, the weight of my old self lifting, replaced by a powerful new identity.

But even as I revel in this newfound confidence, a small part of me remains aware. Deep down, I know that this transformation is not without its consequences. The old Ethan is still there, buried beneath layers of bravado and conservative values, wondering if he will ever resurface. For now, though, I embrace the change, letting it carry me forward into uncharted territory.

As the night wears on, the changes deepen. My thoughts grow sharper, but there's a new edge to them—a roughness that wasn't there before. My jokes become cruder, my comments more biting. The newfound swagger I possess is intoxicating, making me feel invincible.

"I'm gonna need another drink," I call to the bartender, my tone now demanding rather than requesting. The bartender nods, their smile fading slightly as they pour me another shot. I down it in one gulp, feeling the burn in my throat.

The group of women is now fully engaged in our conversation. The brunette who spoke earlier, clearly smitten by my newfound charm, hangs on my every word. I lean in closer, my tone dripping with confidence and a hint of condescension.

"You know, you could do a lot better," I say, smirking at her. "Hanging out with guys who don't know how to treat a lady right. You deserve someone who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to take it."

She blushes, clearly flustered. "And I suppose you think you're that guy?"

I chuckle, a low, self-assured sound. "Absolutely. The name's Jake, by the way. Jake Rivers. Remember it."

I notice the other men giving me approving nods, clearly impressed by my audacity. One of them, the burly man from earlier, claps me on the back. "You're something else, Jake. Got any plans for the rest of the night?"

I glance at the brunette, my intentions clear. "Yeah, I think I do."

The night continues with more drinks, more laughter, and more crude jokes. The brunette—her name's Lisa, I learn—is glued to my side. As the bar starts to empty, I decide it's time to make my move.

"Lisa," I say, my voice low and commanding. "Let's get out of here. My place isn't far."

She hesitates for a moment, then nods. "Okay, Jake. Let's go."

We leave the bar, my arm around her waist, and make our way to my apartment. Once inside, I waste no time, pulling her close and kissing her with an intensity that leaves her breathless. The night is a blur of passion and assertiveness, every move calculated to assert my dominance.

By morning, Lisa is still asleep in my bed as I stand in front of the mirror, taking in my new appearance. My transformation is complete. Gone is the quiet, unassuming Ethan. In his place stands Jake Rivers—a straight, arrogant, and unapologetically crude man. My long, greasy hair hangs over my forehead, the chin strap beard giving my face a hard, defined look. My eyes are sharp, filled with a mixture of confidence and contempt. My wardrobe is impeccable, tailored suits and fitted shirts that showcase my muscular build.

I am a man who takes what he wants, who speaks his mind without regard for others' feelings. My humor is biting, often crossing the line into offensive territory. I enjoy the discomfort of others, reveling in the power it gives me. Women are conquests, trophies to be won and displayed. I treat them with a mix of charm and condescension, knowing that my confidence and swagger are enough to win them over despite my crude behavior.

As I leave my apartment, Lisa still sleeping soundly, I step into the world with a new purpose. I am Jake Rivers, a man who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to take it. The shy, introverted Ethan is a distant memory, replaced by someone who embraces the power and confidence that come with this transformation.

I head back to the bar the next night, ready to dominate the scene once more. The bartender watches me with a mix of curiosity and wariness, aware that the man before them is not the same person who walked in a few nights ago. And as I survey the room, looking for my next conquest, I can't help but feel a surge of satisfaction. This is who I am now—Jake Rivers, the man who commands attention and takes control.

[sxfterhearts]

cafe crush

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ jiung x reader (+ side co-worker!theo) ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: just fluff!!

♡ word count: 2,371 words

♡ summary: 88. “I'll see you later.”

♡ author’s note: i have not written in literal YEARS. but this is a quick one that i whipped up due to a) my ongoing obsession with p1harmony, b) that cursed gif of jiung in the purple hoodie asdfghjhkld, c) my own experience (aka this is heavily based on my cafe crush HAHA) and d) a sudden itch to write?! i'm so rusty, so expect nothing. enjoy!!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

//

“Just ask for his number!”

“Oh my goodness, stop it!” You hissed at your co-worker, Theo, elbowing him in the ribs. “You’re being so obvious.”

“Oh, shut it.” He retorted, trying to defend himself. Mere seconds ago, Theo was teasing you and laughing boisterously, attracting the attention of some other café patrons. “Not nearly as obvious as when you ogle at him as if he’s your prince charming or something.”

“Not true!”

“So true!”

“Who’s next?” The barista called out from behind the counter. You nudged Theo forwards in response, hoping to linger at the end of the line for a bit longer to catch a glimpse of your prince charming.

Well, okay, you were being dramatic.

He’s not technically your prince charming. He’s not your anyone, really. But he is the super-hot-waiter-who-works-at-the-café-you-frequent-with-your-colleagues-everyday (you figured prince charming was a shorter and more convenient name).

It all started out as an innocent crush – someone who piqued your interest, really. You noticed a month or two ago that there was a new face at your regular café. He was probably around your age, perhaps slightly older, with strikingly silver hair. The first time you laid eyes on him, you nearly choked on your iced latte. He had the kindest eyes that turned into little crescents and a bright smile on his perfect face as he spoke calmly to the café’s never-ending patrons and urged them to write their names down on the waiting list. You even saw him put out a bowl of water for a cute corgi like a true angel, all while taking pictures of it using his phone.

The café you frequented nearly every single workday (and sometimes, even on non-workdays) was super popular. On most days, there was a long line of people waiting for a table at the entrance, and a small group of customers huddled around the takeaway station. You weren’t surprised. After all, the café was in a popular suburb, and they brewed coffee using well-sourced beans they freshly roasted in-house. The coffee always hit the spot for you, whether it was an early Monday morning, or a midday pick-me-up.

Throughout the weeks, though, you found yourself making the short ten-minute trip to the café more often than usual. You used to go to other cafes in the area. Granted, this suburb was filled with many high-quality coffee houses. However, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t go to the café just to catch a glimpse of your favourite barista.

Slowly, you started to find solace in your little café trips. What used to be an obligation to get a shot of your daily caffeine, transformed into a little bit of me-time when you had the luxury of making the trip on your own. It gave you an opportunity to walk around the neighbourhood, or even walk the office dog when she was in (which got lots of attention from the locals along the way). You couldn’t explain it, but the anticipation of looking for something (or rather, someone) and finding them exactly where you expect them to be, brought you a sense of pure satisfaction.

Seeing him there, standing at the entrance greeting customers, or balancing three plates of brunch on his long arms, or even taking orders with a big smile, brought you a sense of calm and familiarity.

Your mind flashed back to one particular Friday, where the weather was ominous outside the office, and you were periodically nodding off at your desk. Something about the gloomy weather made you want to go home, crawl under your covers and take a nap. Just as you were re-reading the same sentence for the nth time, you decided to make a trip to the café. After briefly checking the time (you were lucky – it was only 1:30pm), you headed out with your umbrella in hands.

The moment you stepped outside, you momentarily regretted your decision. The skies had just opened up, and rain started to fall. You hesitated but decided that there was still four hours left of the workday, and there was no way you could get through it without a proper hit of caffeine from your favourite café. So, you braved the wind and the cold and made the trip down, clutching your tiny umbrella tightly in your fists the entire time. When you arrived there however, the rain reduced to a tiny drizzle, and the wind appeared to calm down as well. Just as you rounded the corner, you caught a glimpse of the familiar purple hoodie. With your heart thumping in your chest and a bright smiled plastered on your face, you took a quick glance towards the owner of said hoodie (who was busying himself with introducing the signature brunch menu to a table of first-time customers) and headed towards the takeaway counter.

“How can I help you today?” The barista at the counter broke you out of your trance as you reached the start of the queue.

“Hello! Can I get a cold brew please?”

“Of course! Our cold brew is self-serve. Do you know how to work the taps?”

The cold brew and batch brews were served in coffee taps in this café. It was a favourite amongst your colleagues in the office. When it was sunny, everyone flocked to the café to get a cup of their cold brew.

“Yes, I do.” You chirped in reply and proceeded to pay and thank the barista, wishing them a good day.

As you made your way to the coffee taps, you caught a glimpse of your favourite waiter in the corner of your eye, filling up a bottle of water on the sparkling water taps behind you. You held your breath as you scooped a bit of ice into your takeaway cup and placed it under the tap. He was only five steps away from you, and you struggled immensely to keep your gaze fixed on the coffee instead of him.

While it was certainly fun to self-serve your own coffee, the lids always proved to be a challenge for you and everyone else. Theo himself spilled one too many cups of coffee at this exact spot, just because he couldn’t get the lid on the right way.

When the coffee finished pouring, you grabbed the cup with clammy hands and took a lid off the pile. “Here goes,” you breathed, feeling the eyes of not only the waiter but also the other baristas on you as you attempted to put the lid on.

Your tongue stuck out in concentration, fingers pressing around the rim of the cup. Your breath hitched when you felt the cup bend slightly under your touch. This was probably not going to end well.

“Do you need some help?” A voice spoke from in front of you.

You paused, heart nearly beating right out of your chest from the nervousness. This was the first time you’ve ever had any sort of interaction with the waiter, and for some reason, his velvety voice made your knees a bit weak. It was smooth and deep, like a cup of perfectly blended and roasted coffee.

“Ah…” You laughed, slightly embarrassed. Looking up, you flashed an unsteady smile. You were close enough for once to read off his nametag – Jiung. So that was his name. “I’ve got it, Jiung.” You said, determined.

You looked down before a shy smile appeared on his face at the sound of his name rolling off your lips. You took a breath, and tried again, this time with a slightly different approach. You got half of the lid to catch on the cup, finally, and just a little bit more until you got it secured, and you were so close, just a little bit –

“Ah!” You gasped in shock. Turns out, you pressed a little too hard and the cup folded in on itself, spilling half of the drink on the countertop.

“I saw this coming; you should’ve let me help.” Jiung teased in a light-hearted manner, hands already armed with a cloth to clean up the mess you made. He handed you a paper towel. “Here, did you get any on your clothes? Clean up and I’ll get you another one.”

“Ah, no.” You did a quick check and thanked the heavens that your grey sweater was safe from the coffee damage. “I’m sorry…” You said sheepishly, cheeks turning pink. “I swear I did it properly last time.”

“What’s taking so long? Ah, Y/N, you did it again.” Theo peered over your shoulder and shook his head in disapproval.

“Again?” Jiung questioned, trying to bite back a smile.

“Shut up, Theo!” You whipped your head around and shot daggers at him with your eyes. “It’s fine, I’ll meet you back at the office.” You squinted and stared at him, trying to communicate with him non-verbally to leave you alone with your café crush.

Thankfully, Theo was smart enough to get the message. “Alright, I’ll tell Keeho you’ll be late to the meeting because of your little accident.”

“Go!” You hissed, threatening to throw your used paper towel at him. His arms shot up in surrender as he backed away and walked back to the office.

“Your coffee.” Jiung said, presenting you with a perfectly covered cup of cold brew. “Next time, don’t be afraid to ask for help. You’d be amazed just how many people have done that.”

“But you guys make it look so easy, I thought I could do it too.” You pouted, accepting the drink and slightly brushing over his fingers as you did so. Your body tingled at the short-lived moment of skin-to-skin contact.

Jiung laughed at that. “You’re forgetting that we do hundreds of these a day. Let the experts handle it, okay?”

“Jiung, lunch!” One of the chefs yelled out from the kitchen.

“In a sec!” He yelled back. Turning back to you, he said, “I’m gonna go on my lunch break soon. Anything else I can help with?”

You gnawed at your bottom lip for a few seconds and played with your fingers which were interlaced around your cup coffee. Jiung couldn’t help but to watch and stare at your lips as you did so, hypnotised. “Actually, there is…”

“Oh, were you waiting on takeaway food? If you’re in a hurry I can check with the back if you – ”

“No, actually,” you interjected softly. “I was wondering if… I could get your number?” You asked, uncertain. “Only if you’re single, of course.” You took a sip of your coffee to calm yourself down. Clearly it didn’t work because you started to ramble. “But who am I kidding, you obviously have a girlfriend. Anyways, I’m late for a meeting so I should just go…”

Just as you were about to turn around and walk away and hide at your office desk, Jiung waved his hands out to stop you. “Wait!” He said belatedly, after opening and closing his mouth for a minute too long. “I- I- I don’t.” The two of you locked eyes, remaining silent for a few seconds to let his words sink in. “Hold on, you just- I just- I -” He shook his head and heaved a sigh. “Sorry, just give me a sec okay? I’m on my lunch break, I’ll walk you back.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod at his words as he turned around and raced back to the kitchen to grab his lunch. The minutes felt like hours as you waited for him, sipping on your coffee, and allowing the cherry and chocolatey notes to invade your tastebuds. You felt a bit numb after your confession that wasn’t really a confession, yet your heartbeat refused to stop thudding against your ears in anticipation. You really couldn’t tell how this would end.

“Hey, sorry I took so long.” Jiung said, breathless, as he came around the other side of the counter, dressed in a black cap to match his black hoodie. Now that he was standing in front of you, you realised just how tall he was. “Do you work around here, Y/N?”

You shivered at the way his voice wrapped around the syllables of your name. You could only look up at him and nod and point in the general direction of your office.

“I thought so, I see you here all the time.” Jiung continued, slowing his footsteps to walk at the same pace as you as you lead the way.

“You noticed me?”

“Of course, how could I not?” He replied, hands coming up to rub the back of his neck as an embarrassed grin paints itself on his features. “I’m always waiting around to catch a glimpse… of you…” His voice got softer and softer and trailed off towards the end of the sentence.

“You do?” Your eyes turned as wide as saucers.

“Yeah, seeing you is the best part of my shift.” He says, as plain as day, as if he was stating a well-known fact, or reading out the weather forecast, or answering a math question.

“Seeing you is the best part of my day.” You countered.

“Are you sure it’s not just the caffeine?” He teased, bumping your shoulders as you walked with matching steps.

“That too,” You admitted, lips pulling into a small smile. “But seeing your smile in the middle of a boring workday makes things a lot more bearable.”

“That’s…” Jiung trailed off again. “So cute.” He burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter in combined fascination and disbelief, and you thought that nothing, not even the sounds of angels singing at the gates of heaven could be better than this. “Oh, here.” He stopped and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. He reached out for your hand, and dropped it into your palms.

“What’s this?”

“My number, silly. What are you doing tonight? If you’re free, let’s grab dinner?”

You couldn’t hide the pure excitement and joy seeping out of your body. It took everything in your power to not jump up and down on the spot. “Yeah,” you breathed out, still unable to believe that shooting your shot actually worked for once. “Yeah, I’ll see you later at 6.”

[onlyonetifosi]

chapter 14

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

The wait is over im so sorry bc of how late this comes up i've been so bad lately with struggles in both mentally and with my cronical kidney disease. BUT HERE'S THE PIERRE FT ANNOYING/RUDE GF Hope you like it <3 <3

The sun hung high over the picturesque landscape of Cinque Terre, Italy, as the Leclerc family, along with their friends, basked in the warmth of another summer day. Yn and her twin brother, Charles, giggled as they ran along the pebbled beach, their laughter mingling with the sound of crashing waves.

"Race you to the rocks!" Charles challenged, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Yn grinned, her competitive spirit ignited. "You're on!"

"Charles, slow down!" Yn called out, chuckling as she tried to keep up with his energetic pace.

Their younger brother, Arthur, trailed behind them, his laughter ringing out as he tried to keep up. Lorenzo, the eldest of the siblings, watched fondly from a distance, content in the company of their parents and friends

Charles grinned, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Where are Mom and Dad?"

"They said they'd meet us by the gelato stand," Yn replied, scanning the area

As the afternoon sun began to dip towards the horizon, the Leclercs and their companions gathered around a rustic wooden table at a local trattoria, sharing stories and laughter over plates of freshly caught seafood and glasses of chilled limoncello

"Charles, Pierre just arrived!" Lorenzo called out, waving to a familiar figure approaching with a girl by his side

Pierre, Charles's best friend from karting, grinned as he spotted them. "Hey, everyone!"

Yn's heart skipped a beat when she saw Céline, Pierre's girlfriend, trailing behind him. She tried to hide her discomfort, knowing that Céline had never been particularly kind to her

“Bonjour, Pierre!" Charles greeted, clapping his friend on the back. "Comment ça va?"

"Bonjour, ça va?" Pierre asked, flashing her a friendly smile. 

Yn forced a smile in return, replying, "Ça va bien, merci" (I'm doing well, thank you)

"Bonjour, Yn," Céline greeted, her tone dripping with insincerity "Having fun with your little boyfriend?"

Yn felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment as Céline's words drew chuckles from some of the others. She glanced at Joris, who squeezed her hand reassuringly

"Oui, we are" Joris replied, his voice steady despite the hate in Céline's words, and comforts his girlfriend by placing his arm around Yn’s shoulders and placing his head on her neck.

Yn's smile faltered, but she remained silent, not wanting to cause a scene. She glanced at Charles, hoping he would intervene, but he was engrossed in conversation with Riccardo and Marta

The group chatted amicably for a while, but Yn couldn't shake the feeling of Cèline's disapproval looming over her. She tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the laughter and chatter of her family and friends

As the sun dipped below the horizon, tension hung thick in the air. Yn found herself retreating, seeking solace in the quiet of the villa.

"Yn, what's wrong?" Joris asked, concern etched in his features as he followed her.

"It's nothing" Yn murmured, unable to meet his gaze.

"Hey, don't listen to Céline" Joris said softly, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. "You're amazing, okay? Don't let her get to you"

As the day wore on, tensions simmered beneath the surface, coming to a head during a late afternoon stroll along the coastline. Yn walked a few paces behind the others, lost in her thoughts, when she overheard snippets of conversation between Pierre and Cèline.

"Elle est tellement ennuyeuse" Cèline whispered, her voice dripping with disdain "Pourquoi doit-elle toujours être là?"

Yn's heart sank as she realized they were talking about her. She quickened her pace, desperate to escape their cruel words, but Pierre's voice stopped her in her tracks

"Cèline, enough" Pierre said firmly, his gaze flickering to Yn. "You're being rude and you have no right to speak to Yn like that"

Cèline scoffed, rolling her eyes and looking away.

One evening, as they gathered for dinner on the terrace overlooking the sea, Cèline's snide remarks reached a breaking point.

"Yn, why do you always dress like that? You look ridiculous," Cèline remarked, her tone dripping with disdain

Yn's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as the others exchanged uncomfortable glances. She bit her lip, struggling to maintain her composure

Charles, sensing his sister's distress, followed her outside, concern etched on his features. "Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas, Yn? (What's wrong, Yn)" he asked, his voice gentle.

Yn swallowed the lump in her throat, her resolve crumbling as she confessed, "Cèline... she's been making me feel unwelcome, Charles. I don't know what I've done to deserve it."

Charles's brows furrowed in indignation. "Ne t'en fais pas, ma petite fleur. Je vais parler à Pierre. Personne ne devrait te faire sentir ainsi (Don't worry. I'll talk to Pierre. No one should make you feel this way)"

With determination in his stride, Charles sought out Pierre, his expression grave as he relayed Yn's distress. Pierre's initial disbelief gave way to realization, his features contorting with regret as he realized the extent of Cèline's behavior.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Yn's patience wore thin. "Cèline, pourquoi es-tu si méchante envers moi?" (Cèline, why are you so mean to me?)

Cèline scoffed, her eyes narrowing with disdain. "Oh, comme si ça t'importait vraiment." (As if you really care.)

Pierre's expression darkened as he stepped forward, his voice firm. "Cèline, enough. Tu as dépassé les bornes" (You've crossed the line) "I can't believe you'd behave like this, Cèline. I thought I knew you better"

Yn's heart raced as she watched Cèline storm off in a huff, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She felt a wave of gratitude wash over her as Pierre turned to her with a reassuring smile.

Later that evening, Pierre approached Yn, his expression apologetic. "Je suis désolé, Yn. Cèline's behavior was unacceptable. I've spoken with her parents, and they're ashamed of her actions. They've decided to cut our vacation short and return to France early to address her behavior"

"Merci, Pierre," Yn whispered, her voice choked with emotion. (Thank you, Pierre)

Pierre squeezed her hand gently, his eyes shining with empathy. "De rien, Yn. Tu mérites d'être traitée avec respect." (You're welcome, Yn. You deserve to be treated with respect)

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi@hiireadstuff@celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray@minkyungseokie @tesi1

[identityarchitect]

ouughhfgh i am eating your oc lore its so GOOD omnomonmonmonm

i cant think of any specific questions rn thoough so uhhh. do you have any particular thing(s) you especially like about your ocs ? like a certain trait or story theme, smth along those lines

if you cant answer that, then just share any songs you associate with your guys !!!!!

i like their designs!! hold on wait ive never ctually posted them HOLD ON. post is going to the drafts so i can collect images

^ heres awakening winter his design is stupidly complicated but i love it a lot

text reads "this man is tall; religious colony; no ur so sexy dont ascend urself without telling me the solution first; triangulator (believes the solution is dangerous to directly comprehend); manipulated peace into trying to find the solution for him; what happened to his local group?"

here's peace!! (her design is slightly outdated here because i wasnt great at drawing iterator antennae when i drew her)

heres fibres of silence!! text reads "sibling figure to peace; not very talkative; this 4'8 thang can hold so much rage; would kill winter if they could; not depicted here but their puppet arm is kinda busted - when they found out peace was just her puppet they tried to do it too so now some wires are torn out + puppet arm kinda broken"

heres hallows of fate & her beast!! text reads "thing thing can fit so much religious trauma; babygirl you look like a bird; believes the cycle is a punishment from a higher power; v religious colony that she ended up failing somehow"

text for her beast says "messenger; it has wings; cannot fly, only glide; designed to catch air currents from iterators"

and here r some guys

text next to alive peace says "man i sure love being alive i hope nobody manipulates me into ascending and changes the trajectory of my + my friends lives forever"

everyone below the cut isnt from peace's group :3

heres bells of other ballads! text reads "WHY ARE YOU SO FANCY; music enjoyer; not that interested in ascension; more interested in longevity; has a slug she's training to become a technician; 'if they can use tools they can be engineers' -BOOB probably; not that social - trusts the others to reach out to her if anything noteworthy happens"

and heres collector of caged kismet! text reads "disappointed in you; science, tech, the void sea; get this man some coffee and a nap; contrary to pebbles, he /is/ a slugcat ascension machine (for one specific slug); those bags under his eyes arent real btw. he draws them on w/ eyeliner"

and here is a commission of my guy stormclouds overhead done by the wonderful @murrittimeswithscar (btw u should go commission cal)

and here is rising birds (+ storms is there also)

[fuwapower-prettycure]

EDIT: Character designs are outdated. Check this post out for their updates looks!

Finally decided to branch out and post my fanseries on places other than discord!

Fuwa Power☆Pretty Cure is my first solo fanseries. The main themes are self-care, loving who you are, and maintaining good habits. Sleep, stars, the moon, clouds, clocks, and wings serve as the primary motifs.

Pictured above are (In order): Series Logo, Maika/Cure Reverie, Kirari/Cure Shine, Kotomi/Cure Lullaby, Sara/Cure Cozy, and the team henshin items. There are five charms because of a 6th ranger who is yet to be introduced.

Mozhizuki Maika / Cure Reverie – Maika is a 13-year old girl starting her first year at Fuwayama Prep. She is somewhat introverted with a passion for anything fantastical or grand. She struggles in school, often getting lost in her daydreams. Despite being very amiable, she has few friends due to her self-isolating tendencies. She wants more than anything to find her place in the world without having to sacrifice her creativity and wonder. After meeting Yumeno, Nighty, and Twyla she becomes Cure Reverie, the Pretty Cure of imagination and dreams. Her theme color is pink.

Hirano Kirari / Cure Shine – Known as ‘Kira-Kirari’ by her growing following, Kirari is a 13-year old first year who spends her free time singing and dancing as a small-time idol. She is hesitant to look at idol agencies because of how much she values creative freedom. Kirari sometimes struggles to separate herself from idol activities, but finds solace in spending time with her friends. Her biggest joy comes from giving anyone who sees her performance a shining light they can always rely on. After meeting Yumeno, Nighty, and Twyla she becomes Cure Shine, the Pretty Cure of guidance and light. Her theme color is yellow.

Asahara Kotomi / Cure Lullaby – Kotomi is a 13-year old who, despite being one of the high ranked first years, is not well known among her peers because of her aloof persona. Behind her air of indifference, though, is a girl who thrives in chaotic situations and cares greatly despite not often showing it. She has a large family with two working parents and 4 younger siblings who she often cares for. Kotomi does her absolute best to provide a good example for her siblings as their loving big sister. After meeting Yumeno, Nighty, and Twyla she becomes Cure Lullaby, the Pretty Cure of care and tenderness. Her theme color is purple.

Nagumo Sara / Cure Cozy – Sara is a 14-year-old second year at Fuwayama Preparatory. She is the president of the Community Club, a group who works to support local businesses and charities the best they can through fundraisers, donation drives, and raising awareness. She is more often than not the voice of reason, but has a hidden mischievous side. When it's time to let loose, she can become the life of the party. Sara is shown to be independent and mature beyond her years despite still having come childlike tendencies. After meeting Yumeno, Nighty, and Twyla she becomes Cure Cozy, the Pretty Cure of comfort and security. Her theme color is green.

[shuugumi]

❥ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐖𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: making up with gojo satoru after a few stressful weeks,

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: hurt + comfort, college au (gojo & reader are seniors), pro-wrestler!gojo, originally posted on @seiueina but transferred work here !! isn’t proofread…at all heh heh may rewrite

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐣𝐚𝐝𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i ordered the iphone 15 pro and it isn't coming in till october 31 T-T oh yeah also i am turning this into a series hehehe. reblogs r vry appreciated as it gets my works out there!

People lead busy lives, and unexpected events can often disrupt their routines. Some days are busier than others.

However, with wrestling season kicking off and your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, making headlines in college and local newspapers as the potential winner of the S&J 2023 Belt, he was under immense pressure from his team coach to perform at his best.

As a result, this season had left him incredibly busy and stressed. Balancing the demands of completing his thesis, maintaining his weight for the competition, and practicing tirelessly, all while trying to ensure you remained his top priority.

You had always been known as an independent person, finding solace and joy in your own company. As Satoru found himself busy with his commitments, you found yourself having a hands full with the university events department, where you were deeply involved in planning upcoming events.

Between both of your hectic schedules, finding time to relax in each other's arms had become a rarity.

Your interactions had been reduced to brief moments, such as getting ready for bed or starting the day. This new routine began to take a toll on your relationship, leading to nightly arguments and hurtful words exchanged in your shared apartment. Tension between you two was palpable, with some nights ending with one of you sleeping on the couch, while the other shivered from the absence of warmth.

Neither of you had the time or energy to address the issues that had arisen between you. But, one day, Satoru surprised you by inviting you to a wrestling kickoff party hosted by his teammate, Geto Suguru. Although hesitant, you decided to accompany him, swallowing your pride as you held his hand tightly while entering one of the gathering rooms on campus.

You didn't know many people at the party, unfamiliar faces, especially numerous females, filled the room. As you sat on the couch sipping your Shirley Temple, you observed various scenes – wrestlers trying to flirt with women, groups dancing to the music, and, most importantly, your boyfriend engaged in conversation with a group of people, wearing a genuine smile that had been absent for weeks.

Amidst the crowd, one woman stood out, too close for comfort with Satoru. She was touching his arm and laughing along with him and the group. It seemed like he was giving her more attention than he had given you in the past month.

"Oh my god, do you remember the time we got lost in the park, and Kento had to come pick us up!" you heard the woman exclaimed from across the room. You couldn't bear it any longer, so you walked up to them and tapped Satoru on the shoulder, informing him, "I'm not feeling well." Your voice trailed off as you looked at the ground. His attention immediately shifted to you, and he sounded genuinely concerned as he asked, "What happened? Do you need medicine?"

"I'm gonna go outside," you replied wearily as you made your way to the front door of the house. Satoru asked if he should come with you, tones of worriedness laced in his words. You walked away without responding, finding a seat on the stairs leading to the entrance.

Satoru wondered to himself what was bothering you. He couldn't hear the woman talking anymore, as his thoughts were consumed by concern for you. As he excused himself from the conversation and headed to the front door, he found you sitting on the stairs, scrolling through Pinterest.

"Hey, Y/N. Love, did you come out here just to use your phone? I thought you weren't feeling well," he calmly inquired, taking a seat next to you. Your eyes were still glued to your phone as he moved it away, causing you to roll your eyes at his actions.

"It's nothing," you began, but Satoru interrupted, "Don't give me that 'nothing.' You know I don't like it when you say that. I can tell something is bothering you." He sighed, looking down at the cement ground.

"—I don't understand. You said you were getting fresh air, but when I came out here, you were on your phone. Did you just need to make a phone call? Just tell me what's going on because right now, I have no idea," he implored, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned closer to you.

You finally met his gaze, and with a soft and embarrassment filled irises, you apologized, "I..I just miss you!," you began, looking in his azure eyes, swallowing air before continuing, "I miss cooking for you and eating at the table with you! I miss when you make those stupid but silly faces at me when we're eating...I miss when you play with my hair when we're studying together. I miss you Satoru!"

"We haven't been doing those things in the past few weeks, have we?" Satoru tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle, and a small smile appeared on your face. You shook your head slowly in response.

"Seeing you talking to that girl made me feel jealous. I wished it was me you were talking to, smiling, and laughing at instead," you admitted as Satoru wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his chest.

"If you ever think that some girl could ever compare to what we have, you're completely wrong. You're the only one I think about. Even with all this happening right now, I only ever want to think about you. I am infatuated with you baby...We're both stupid for not talking about this sooner," Satoru reassured you, planting a kiss on your cheek.

"Are you mad at me?" you asked calmly. Satoru quickly pulled back, looking puzzled. "No, why should I be?" he replied. You shrugged and finally gave him the eye contact he had been longing for.

"All of this? What happened tonight and the past few weeks?" you clarified. He laughed at your words, cupping your face to make you look at him. "Never,was just a misunderstanding. Plus, even if I was, how could I stay mad at this cute face?" he said, his smile growing as yours did.

"You also aren't the only one who missed the other person. Missed you a lot as well" He continues, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I will make it up to you...kay' sweets."

"I love you, Satoru."

"I love you more, Y/N," he replied, cupping your face before giving you the long-awaited kiss on the lips.

© 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 ; do not translate, copy, plagiarize or upload elsewhere!! all content is owned by me unless stated otherwise.

[lupi-usque-ad-finem]

thinking about werewolves

werewolves that find comfort in the moonlight. werewolves who adore the sunlight. werewolves with ptsd from transforming. werewolves being overjoyed after their first transformation. werewolves being open about their fears and loves in their lycanthropy and finding solace in others. turning another as a sign of love, trust, and consent. full moon ceremonies. werewolf body language. werewolf slang blending with human slang. humans who grow up in a pack of werewolves and being practically identical to them. the first time a werewolf is welcomed into their pack. packs of all kinds. hippie packs of werewolves travelling across the country in a van way too small for all of them. a small town gas station run by the local werewolf lady who’s ears perk up and smiles when you walk in. elder werewolves. retirement homes for werewolves. elder werewolves playing and spending time with their grandcubs. werewolves with control over their transformations and live as a constant mix of human and wolf. werewolf coats, mannerisms, traits, and forms differing depending on where they live in the world. city dwelling werewolves. countryside werewolves. backpacking werewolves finding entire towns filled with werewolves and packs and realising that yes, they can find home exactly as they are. werewolf safe havens. famous werewolves using their influence for progressive change. a human and werewolf finding love. cubs playfighting with the human kids in the neighbourhood. werewolves with huge families and all kinds of siblings and elders and cubs. werewolf families having weekly game nights and dinners with their human neighbours. werewolf trait genetics. cubs who have frail fur and short nails and babble instead of bark. cubs who are furry and have fangs and claws and snouts and shrill little howls. werewolf siblings where one appears fully human and the other looks like the family dog and they don’t even notice a difference. coed human and werewolf schools. the football team populated by werewolves. the track team winning national championships every year. the spring play of Beauty and the Beast winning the community vote for best costume design. drama kid werewolves painting sets and getting acrylics and oil paints in their fur. recess being the preschool cubs favourite time of the day—right after lunch of course. night classes for werewolves and insomniac human students. one day the English teacher comes in half transformed and just sighs and calls it a movie day. prom being won by a werewolf and human couple. werewolf outreach groups to help those recently turned. search and rescue werewolves. war dog werewolves. werewolf physical and mental therapists. werewolf astrologists. werewolf clinics. werewolves consenting to their bodies to be used for scientific research when they pass. organ donor werewolves. werewolf scientists working to discover their true origin. hormone therapy for werewolves who find it difficult to transform or those who need help controlling their transformations. werewolf summer camps. werewolf sled teams. land owners who are both the grounds dogs and the ranchers. werewolf herding dogs. werewolves who grow out their fur then cut it to make coats for werewolves who’ve lost their fur. werewolves who carry the fangs of their deceased with them. werewolf bones laid to rest next their human mate in graves thousands of years old. tombs of packs and families in pristine condition. oil paintings of packs hundreds of years old. werewolf funeral traditions. discovering that multiple influential poets, archaeologists, leaders, scholars, scientists, etc. in the past were werewolves. werewolf and human history being intertwined for millennia. drawings and scriptures and proverbs of large speaking wolves living alongside the humans depicted. myths and stories and tales and passages about werewolves. times in history where humans and werewolves were virtually indistinguishable. the oldest known cave drawings full of massive paw prints placed purposefully and lovingly right next to human hand prints. werewolves. <3

[map0fthes0ul7]

Heartbeats in the halls of academia.

Pairing: Dilf!Ceo!Professor!Jeonghan x Student!reader (ft. Jeonghan's clueless daughter Yena) ((Jeonghan is a whole combo here as y'all can see))

Warnings: Kinda angsty, but they get their happy ending, so hey, that's great!

Word count: 5407

Synopsis: Good ol' forbidden romance between Professor Jeonghan and his student y/n.

Author's note: I hope this one is also going to do well.

The towering figure of Yoon Jeonghan loomed at the front of the lecture hall, his presence commanding the undivided attention of every student seated before him. At 44, the CEO of Yoon Technologies had built an empire on innovation and foresight, and his reputation as a strict yet fair professor at the local university was nothing short of illustrious. With a keen eye that missed no detail and a wit that kept even the most brilliant minds on their toes, Professor Yoon had become a pillar of both the academic and business worlds.

As he lectured on the complexities of quantum mechanics, his voice reverberated through the hall, each word enunciated with knowledge and authority. He adorned a tailored suit, the dark fabric contrasting against his youthfully styled silver hair, his persona exuding a magnetic allure that was not lost on the students.

In the second row sat y/n, a passionate science student whose thoughts often drifted to realms beyond the subject at hand—specifically, to the man who stood just meters away. Y/n's pen poised above the notebook, the equations and theories interspersed with tiny scribbles and incoherent notes that betrayed a distracted mind. Though y/n was introverted, preferring the solace of books and music to the adventures that university life offered, there was one adventure that the heart seemed all too keen to embark upon—a dangerous dalliance with the professor.

Beside y/n, Yena's bright laughter broke the silence that had momentarily engulfed their small corner of the room. Yoon Yena, with her vivacious smile and inexplicable energy, was the image of collegiate exuberance. She was the only child of Jeonghan and the dearest friend y/n had at the university, their bond forged through shared interests and a love for science.

But it was a love of another manner that had y/n's thoughts in turmoil. Unbeknownst to cheerful Yena, y/n harbored a secret adoration for her father, a sentiment that flooded y/n with guilt and longing in equal measure.

As the bell signaled the end of the lecture, the students began to pack up their belongings, the buzz of excited chatter filling the air. Yena leaned over to y/n, her eyes glistening with plans and propositions.

"Are you coming out with us tonight?" Yena's invitation was as predictable as it was well-intentioned.

With a gentle shake of the head, y/n deflected, "I've got a lot on my plate. Maybe next time.

Yena pouted, playful but understanding. "You work too hard, y/n. You should live a little," she teased before bounding off to catch up with a group of her other friends.

Y/n was left alone as the last of the students tricked out of the lecture hall. Alone, that is, except for the man still standing at the front. With the hall emptied, Professor Yoon began to gather his own materials, his astute eyes catching y/n's lingering presence. An imperceptible silence stretched between them, filled only by the faint echo of Yena's laughter as it trailed off into the hallways.

"Is there something you didn't understand about the lecture?" Jeonghan queried, his tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

Mutely, y/n stood and approached the desk where he stood, clutching the notebook like a lifeline. Each step was measured, the heartbeat thundering in y/n's chest a stark contrast to the calm demeanor attempted to be displayed.

"Actually, Professor, I was wondering if you had any suggestions for extra reading. I find the subject fascinating," y/n admitted, looking up through lashes with a sincerity that was as indisputable as it was alluring to the older man.

A smile tugged at the corners of Jeonghan's lips. "I admire your dedication," he praised before writing down a list of books on a piece of paper and handing it over. As their fingertips brushed, an electric jolt of unspoken tension passed between them—an acknowledgement of something deeper than the exchange of scholarly advice.

"I appreciate it," y/n murmured, lingering for a moment too long, and then, with a final glance, turned to leave.

Jeonghan watched y/n's retreating figure, the rush of something forbidden stirring within him. It was a crossing of lines he was usually adept at maintaining, but the more he came to know y/n, the more difficult it became to uphold those barriers. He was acutely aware of the implications, of the ethics of his position. With a small shake of his head, he tried to dismiss the thoughts as mere weakness—at least until the next lecture.

~

A few days had passed since y/n had approached Jeonghan for extra reading material, and the tension in the air had not dissipated but rather intensified with every sidelong glance exchanged in the lecture hall. Y/n had delved into the recommended texts, each page offering both an insight into quantum mechanics and a connection to Jeonghan that provided a solace for the consuming thoughts.

Yet, the fantasies that played in y/n's mind were a dangerous escape from reality, with their tendrils looping ever tighter around a heart that shouldn't yearn so fervently for the forbidden. In the quiet of y/n's room, filled with stacks of books and soft music playing in the background, it was simple to imagine a different world; one where it wasn't wrong to want someone so unattainable.

Despite the internal conflict, y/n had excelled in the assignments, with Jeonghan's teachings echoing not just in the academic work, but in the daydreams that found their way onto the pages of a private journal.

~

One particularly late evening, deep in the embrace of the campus library's solitude, y/n realized a crucial textbook—a cornerstone of the upcoming thesis—was missing. It was a rare find, one usually kept in the professors' private collections. Without it, the research would be incomplete, an academic yearning so urgent that it nudged y/n towards an impulsive decision.

Remaining students were few as y/n made the way to Jeonghan's office, the silence interrupted only by the hesitant rhythm of y/n's steps. Reaching the closed door, y/n paused, the words 'Private' and 'Professor Yoon Jeonghan' neatly etched on the plaque. Stealing a breath to quell the rising nerves, y/n knocked softly.

The door creaked open, revealing Jeonghan in his sanctum, shrouded by the soft glow of his desk lamp, his attention undivided from the papers he was marking. He looked up, surprise evident in his features, replaced quickly by an accommodating warmth.

"y/n, what brings you here so late?" he inquired, motioning for y/n to enter.

"The book I need for my thesis isn’t in the library. I was wondering if you might have a copy I could borrow," y/n explained with a hopeful timbre.

A moment of contemplation passed over Jeonghan's face as he stood and walked to one of the many shelves lining the walls. With purposeful strides, he retrieved the desired tome and handed it to y/n with a gentle smile.

"Our little secret," he said softly, an undercurrent of playfulness in his voice that set y/n's heart racing.

As y/n reached out to take the book, their hands touched again, and this time, neither pulled away. Drawn by a force neither understood nor could articulate, they moved closer, a magnetic pull zeroing the space between them.

The first kiss came as a whisper against y/n's lips, soft but filled with the power of suppressed desire. It was a convergence of emotion, a silent confession of the feelings that swirled with reckless abandon in that confined space.

Professor and student, they knew the gravity of what they were doing, yet the kiss deepened, fueled by a hunger that had been waiting in the shadows of their professional façade. It was in that stolen moment, with the taste of the forbidden making the air thick with tension, that y/n and Jeonghan crossed a line from which there was no return.

Outside, the world continued unaware, stars peppering the night sky. Inside, two hearts wrestled with what it meant to be bound by society's rules yet led astray by the anarchy of love. It was only the beginning, the bursting forth of a story written in the quiet language of shared glances and unspoken promises, with consequences neither could predict nor fully comprehend.

~

In the aftermath of the kiss, the world seemed to stand still. Y/n clutched the treasured book against a chest that heaved with emotions too complex to untangle. Y/n and Jeonghan remained in the quiet cocoon of his office, the taste of their forbidden embrace lingering, an indelible mark on both their souls.

"Y/n," Jeonghan’s voice was a hushed murmur, torn between duty and desire. He stepped back, the space between them expanding like an unfathomable chasm. His eyes, usually so clear and confident, now swam with a conflicting storm. 

This was a line they could traverse only once. The kiss—a single brush of lips—had sealed a secret pact, a silent agreement to the flames that licked at the foundations of the world they knew.

"We should forget this happened," Jeonghan's statement was heavy with regret, but his stare held y/n with an intensity that belied his words. He could not un-write the moment any more than y/n could, and they both knew it.

Y/n nodded, though every fiber protested. "Yes, Professor," came the whisper, a futile attempt to sew closed the threads they had so daringly pulled loose. Y/n left the room then, the book a weighty token of a shift in the equilibrium that resonated with every step away from Jeonghan’s office.

~

In the following weeks, the tension was only mounted. Their interactions in class were laden with a newfound formality, every word and gesture measured with surgical precision. Students and faculty remained oblivious to the undercurrent that hummed beneath the surface, but y/n and Jeonghan were acutely aware. Each glance shared was a brush stroke adding detail to the clandestine picture they had accidentally begun to paint.

Yena, blissfully ignorant of the drama unfolding, continued to be the link between her father and y/n, a bridge that neither could avoid crossing. She commented innocently on how studious y/n was and how proud her father seemed of y/n's academic progress, unwittingly tightening the knot at the juncture where personal and professional lines blurred.

~

The university’s annual science fair arrived like a gusting wind, all excitement and fluttering papers, with lectures giving way to demonstrations and experiments. Y/n's project, deeply influenced by the recent nights spent traipsing through quantum theory, drew an impressed crowd which included both Yena and, inevitably, Jeonghan.

As y/n presented the findings, expertly explained the complex mechanisms at play, a nervous energy coursed through veins. Jeonghan was there, a silent sentinel whose gaze bore into y/n with an intensity that was difficult to ignore. With each accomplishment that shone in y/n's eyes, Jeonghan's pride was matched by the quiet terror of the mounting bond forming between mentor and student, one he could neither publicly acknowledge nor tear his eyes from.

Yena clapped the loudest when the presentation ended, her cheers carrying a genuine love and pride for y/n. She threw arms around her friend in a congratulatory hug, seemingly deaf to the irregular tempo of y/n's heart—a rhythm that danced uneasily to a melody that spelled out jeopardy in haunting notes.

It was later that day, when the crowds had thinned and the buzz had dulled to a background hum, that Jeonghan approached y/n under the guise of discussing the project further. Yena, ever the social butterfly, had been whisked away by classmates, leaving them in a rare pocket of tranquility amidst the chaos.

"Your understanding of the subject is remarkable," Jeonghan said, his voice low, a treacherous vibrato beneath the compliment.

"Thank you, sir. Your guidance has been invaluable," y/n replied, acutely aware of the double entendre that laced their words.

Their eyes met, and in them, the reflections of that night in Jeonghan's office was a moment frozen in time, pulsing with life unto its own. They spoke of the project at length but danced around the conversation they truly wanted to have—a dangerous tango of words.

The fair wound down, and the sun dipped low, casting an orange glow over the campus grounds. Jeonghan and y/n wandered aimlessly, caught in the gravity of each other's company. The quiet became a living, breathing entity between them—one that whispered the truths they could not voice but felt with a fervor that neither logic nor ethics could silence.

~

As autumn bled into winter, the campus transformed under a blanket of white. Each flake of snow that settled on the university echoed the silent, frozen sentiment that hung between Professor Yoon Jeonghan and y/n. The secret of their singular kiss was guarded behind the somber walls of professionalism and duty, yet it simmered beneath the ice, yearning for the thaw of admittance.

Y/n navigated the semester with the dual burden of advancing academic ambitions and the weighty secret shared with Jeonghan. The more entrenched y/n became in the scientific exploration, the deeper the mental connection wove its tendrils through thoughts and motives, linking every discovery back to the man who was both mentor and forbidden infatuation.

The precarious balance of their interactions came under quiet scrutiny through the occasional curious glance from peers or the inadvertent, lingering handshake at the end of an earnest academic debate. Yet no concrete suspicion surfaced, their careful orchestration of exchanges nothing if not masterful. To the world, y/n was Jeonghan's most promising student, nothing more, and their determination to maintain that facade grew even as the hidden truth of their affection pulled them together like the unseen forces they so often discussed in lectures.

The approaching break brought a bittersweet solace, a respite from the constant need to conceal their attraction within the confines of the university. Yet, the absence only served to magnify the unresolved tension, to stretch the silence until it sang with a sweet, near unbearable pitch.

As the last of y/n's finals were submitted and the student body dissipated, the quiet of the campus became a reminder of that electric moment in Jeonghan's office, raising questions that thrummed in y/n's pulse.

~

During the winter break, y/n stayed on campus, lost in the research and theories that did little to distract from thoughts of Jeonghan. The resounding hollowness of the hallways echoed a sense of emptiness that y/n couldn't shake.

Yena, in her usual effervescent manner, had taken a trip abroad, her messages arriving as bursts of joy and snatches of escapades, a contrast to the solemnity that y/n found in books and quiet contemplation. In her absence, the link between y/n and Jeonghan seemed to grow even more tenuous, a frayed connection that was at once a source of agony and comfort.

Y/n's solitude was broken one late evening when a soft knock at the dorm door reverberated through the stillness. A glance through the peephole revealed a sight that caused y/n's heart to cease before thundering against ribs: Jeonghan, adorned in a nondescript coat, a cautious hesitance etched into his dignified features.

Opening the door, y/n found the ability to speak had fled, leaving a silence that Jeonghan stepped into with a careful poise, his presence in the small space nothing short of overwhelming.

"I wanted to check on you," he started, his words tightrope walkers navigating the dangerous height of their implications. "You shouldn't be alone over the holidays, y/n."

The concern in his voice was genuine, but it unfurled into the room like smoke, clouding the boundaries they had painstakingly erected. Y/n could only nod, the familiar guilt twining anew with the persistent want that had no rightful place amongst the ethics of their association.

Jeonghan didn't move to leave, nor did y/n close the door, their mutual hesitation a dance they both led. It was Jeonghan who broke first, his hand reaching out to touch y/n's, a contact that exceeded caution and sparked the return of all the emotions they had tried to suppress.

"Perhaps I should go," he whispered, though neither moved.

"Perhaps," y/n mirrored, the admission laden with the things that couldn't be said.

In the end, Jeonghan did leave, but the ghost of his touch lingered, a testament to the crumbling facade that was no longer resilient in the absence of prying eyes.

~

Classes resumed and the new semester began with a fresh snowfall, a reflective canvas upon which their continued charade could be etched. Y/n tackled studies with a renewed fervor, if only as an attempt to barricade thoughts of Jeonghan behind walls of formulae and hypotheses.

Their office encounters were strictly scheduled, terse discussions of academic progress marked by the rigid adherence to professionalism. The warmth that had once highlighted their interactions now lost to a cold formality, necessary for their survival within the confines of the institution.

~

A chance meeting in the library offered an illusion of normalcy. Y/n was buried in research when Jeonghan approached, a slight tilt to his lips that didn't quite qualify as a smile.

"I see you're still spending your evenings with quantum theories," he commented, a careful neutrality underpinning his tone.

"It's captivating," y/n returned, equally guarded. "There's so much yet to be understood."

"Indeed," Jeonghan murmured, his eyes holding y/n's for a moment too revealing. "Keep up the good work, y/n."

The exchange was routine to any onlooker, but laden with the silent acknowledgment of the growing space between them—a void filled with unsaid words and unacknowledged yearning.

Yet as the semester marched on, the ice around them began to grow thinner. Smiles became more frequent, shared laughter erupted over shared in-jokes about scientific anomalies, and cautious optimism breathed life into their covert looks. The escalating risk of their connection weighed heavily upon them, a dangerous game played on the edge of discovery.

~

Y/n's research led to a conference, a gathering of minds where y/n's work, under Jeonghan's guidance, would be presented. The excitement was tinged with trepidation—not over the showcase of the project, but the proximity to Jeonghan it would entail.

They traveled separately, a necessary precaution, meeting only at the conference hall amongst a sea of attendees. Y/n's presentation was met with accolades, a shining moment that Yena, who had rejoined campus life with gusto, witnessed firsthand. She beamed with pride, a supportive anchor not just for y/n, but unexpectedly, for her father as well.

The final evening of the conference saw attendees at a formal dinner. Y/n sat at a table with Yena and other students, Jeonghan at the head table, both keenly aware of each other's presence.

As the evening drew on, y/n stepped out onto a balcony for air, the stars overhead a vast, undisturbed witness. The door behind creaked open, and without needing to look, y/n knew it was Jeonghan who stepped out to join.

They stood side by side in silence, looking out into the darkness. Then, in a voice barely audible over the whispering wind, Jeonghan spoke—the words cutting through the months of unspoken truths and restrained feelings.

"I can't do this anymore," he confessed, his profile outlined by the ambient light. "Pretending that I don't—"

He stopped, the silence swallowing the rest, the implications hanging suspended in the air around them. Y/n turned to face him, the turbulence of emotions clear in y/n's gaze.

"I know," y/n replied, the admission a relief as it tore through the last barrier of denial.

They didn't touch, didn't step closer, but in that moment, the thaw occurred, and the unyielding frost that had encased their desires began to melt. It wasn't a resolution, nor an answer to the labyrinth of moral and professional repercussions, but an acknowledgment of the powerful, undeniable reality of their connection.

~

The return to campus was fraught with a new tension, an awareness that the thread they had been tugging on was near its breaking point—a point of decision that loomed inevitable on the horizon of their intertwined journey.

As spring arrived, the university campus bloomed with vibrant life, a stark contrast to the inner turmoil that churned within y/n. Jeonghan's confession at the conference had not been forgotten, it's echo a constant undercurrent to every lecture attended, every paper graded, every sidelong glance they shared. The thread that connected them—an intangible, delicate thing—stretched taut with the pressure of unfulfilled desires and unspoken words.

Every brush of their fingers as y/n handed in assignments, every shared look laden with meaning, sent vibrations along that ever-tensing thread. It was souring the purity of their academic relationship, tinting what should have been a professional mentorship with hues of something far deeper and more perilous.

Yena, as cheerful and oblivious as ever, spoke excitedly of future plans: graduation on the horizon, job prospects, and the pride she felt for her father and her best friend, y/n. She remained the picture of ignorance to the drama unfolding so close to her, unaware of how perilously close y/n and her father were to crossing a line that could not be uncrossed.

~

It was a late night in the laboratory, y/n absorbed in research, when the thread finally snapped. Jeonghan entered unexpectedly, the click of the door a jarring sound in the quiet. Their eyes met in an immediate and profound recognition of the end of all their self-imposed restraints.

"I can't do this," Jeonghan spoke first, his voice strained with the weight of months of confinement and hidden truth. "I can’t keep pretending that I don't feel anything for you. It’s affecting everything I do."

Y/n's research papers fluttered to the floor as if mirroring the collapsing pretenses between them. "I don't want to pretend either," y/n confessed, the heart's unguarded honesty breaking free at last.

Stepping closer, they abandoned caution as Jeonghan reached out to gently cradle y/n's face. The chemistry they had dissected abstractly now manifested physically, irrefutable and demanding to be acknowledged.

Their kiss, unlike the first, was not a question but an answer—vehement, deep, and brimming with the months of tension that had built up between them. It spoke of longing, of the undeniable attraction they’d battled against, and the collective resignation to the torrent of emotions they could no longer contain.

It was the beginning of something neither could fully understand nor control, a tale of two souls intertwined in a dance as old as time. But entwined with their newfound freedom was the weight of the myriad of complications they were set to face.

Reality crashed over them like a cascading wave as soon as they parted—the comprehension of their actions rippling through each with chilling sobriety. Together, they'd breached the sanctity of the student-teacher bond, ventured into the realm of the heart where logic had no domain.

"There will be consequences," Jeonghan said after a moment, the professor in him re-gaining the upper hand despite the lingering sensation of y/n’s lips. "We have too much to lose."

"And what if I think it's worth it?" y/n challenged, despair and hopelessness colliding with the flickering embers of what had just ignited between them.

Jeonghan's expression softened, his hand still resting on y/n's cheek. "Then I fear for what may come. For us, for Yena... everything could come crashing down."

They stood amongst the scattered papers, a symbol of the order they had thrown to the wind. The impact of their decision began to take shape—rumors, disciplinary actions, and the shattering of a young woman's familial image were all at stake.

Y/n withdrew from Jeonghan's touch, the weight of guilt enveloping the brief warmth. "We need to think this through. We can't... not without considering all the angles."

The acknowledgment of their reality, harsh and unyielding, settled between them as they parted that night—their relationship irrevocably altered, the path ahead fraught with uncertainty.

~

In the days that followed, the silhouette of normality was a guise they both donned with reluctance. Jeonghan returned to his authoritative role with an impenetrable facade, y/n to the studious demeanor that had been a constant before everything changed.

Yet the transparency of their previous interactions was forever clouded; every word, every assessment was now a labyrinthine exercise in extreme caution, each hyper-aware of any sign that might reveal their secret.

Yena, ever the doting daughter, and the loyal friend, began to notice a shift—not in her father, nor in y/n, but in the air that seemed to crackle with an energy around them. Her intuition nagged at her, whispering of changes she could not place nor fathom.

"What's going on with you and dad?" she asked y/n one evening, her gaze searching for some elusive truth.

"It's just the pressure of the semester," y/n deflected, the lie a bitter taste on the tongue. "We're both feeling it."

In her heart, y/n knew the time was slipping away, that the truth was a beast that would not stay caged indefinitely. This secret shared was a burden too heavy, a truth too poignant to remain hidden.

As y/n watched the last vestiges of daylight wane from the sky, there was an understanding that the story they had begun was far from over. The pages yet to be written loomed large and unpredictable, but it was clear that the journey they faced was one neither Jeonghan nor y/n could travel alone.

~

As the semester waned, the tension between Jeonghan and y/n had become almost palpable, a volatile cocktail of fear and longing that hovered over their every interaction. They moved through the motions of their respective roles with a deliberate caution that belied the undercurrent of suppressed emotions churning beneath the surface.

In the quiet confines of the library, y/n poured over textbooks, the lines and equations blurring as the thoughts circled back relentlessly to Jeonghan and the looming inevitability of their secret being exposed. It was a mental tightrope walk that left little room for error, the risk of condemnation and ruin growing with each stolen moment.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan, ensconced in his office and the rigorous demands of his CEO duties, found himself waging a constant battle between duty and the whispers of his heart. The sight of y/n's handwriting on a submitted paper could elicit a storm within him that took monumental effort to quell.

The rumors that were once mere shadows in the corridors of the university began to take shape, whispers that grew bolder with each passing day. Though no clear evidence presented itself, the growing sense of unease was undeniable. Their relationship, though rigorously guarded, emitted a frequency that seemed to invite scrutiny from those with a watchful eye.

Yena’s intuition pushed her to observe more closely, the daughter’s connection to her father serving as a conduit for her suspicions. Jeonghan's name, when coupled with y/n's in conversation, elicited a reaction she couldn't ignore—a sudden tightness around the eyes, a fractional delay in response. These were puzzle pieces she couldn't quite fit together, but her determination to understand the picture they formed intensified.

Y/n knew something had to give. The reality of the situation was a crossroads approaching at breakneck speed, an intersection that promised collision.

~

Y/n sat in the small cafe off campus that had become a refuge, the murmur of outside life a welcome intrusion to the cocoon of silence. As assignments were graded and lecture notes revised, the bell above the door chimed, signaling a new patron's arrival. With a hesitant glance upward, y/n's heart staggered as Yena breezed in, her eyes scanning the room until they locked onto y/n.

They greeted each other, but the usual ease was strained, a visible tension threading its way through the exchange. As Yena sat down, her convivial facade slowly crumbled, revealing a resolve that was as surprising as it was concerning.

"We need to talk," Yena stated, the gravity in her voice anchoring the moment in seriousness. "About you and my dad."

A cold dread settled over y/n, the words echoing like a death knell to the carefully constructed denial that had been clung to for far too long.

"There's nothing to talk about, Yena," y/n managed, though the conviction fell flat, a kite without wind.

But Yena persisted, her gaze unyielding. "I know there's something you're not telling me. And it's killing me not knowing."

Words failed y/n then, the truth a barricade too high and thick to cross. Yet the look in Yena's eyes pulled at something deep within, a plea for honesty that was as raw as it was heartrending.

~

In the wake of Yena's confrontation, the dominoes of their secret began to totter, threatening to tumble into chaos. Heavy-hearted and knowing that the time had come, y/n sought Jeonghan out, the need to discuss the next step a fire that refused to be doused.

Jeonghan's office stood as a symbol of their forbidden connection, the site of their passion, of furtive kisses and the echoing silence of unspoken vows. As y/n stepped in, it felt like crossing into another realm, a place where the walls whispered their memories back to them.

"We need to decide what we're doing," y/n began, the urgency of the situation straining the voice.

Jeonghan looked up, his features etched with lines of a silent struggle. "The risk is becoming too great," he admitted, a resignation sweeping through his words.

The conversation that ensued was as difficult as it was necessary, a navigation through the murky waters of ethics, emotions, and consequences. The affection that had blossomed was undeniable, the connection strong, but it was tethered to a reality they could no longer ignore.

They deliberated on coming clean, on facing the storm together, but the image of Yena—happy, bright, and unaware—loomed between them like a specter of potential disaster.

~

Days later, as spring flowers burgeoned outside, an air of somber finality settled within the hallowed halls of the university. Y/n and Jeonghan made the decision to step into the light, to confront the potential consequences head-on, rather than continue in the shadows.

They met with the university board, an assembly of faces stern and inquisitive, disclosing the truth of their relationship in stark terms. The ripple of shock and murmuring that followed their confession painted a clear image of the repercussions to come.

As the process of institutional inquiry commenced, Yena was told, the news delivered in gentle but unwavering honesty. Her world, once so stable and sure, fractured under the weight of the revelation. Heartache and betrayal warred within her as she grappled to reconcile the father and friend she knew with the personas they had just shattered.

~

The inquiry was a tempestuous ordeal—an external evaluation driving nails into the framework of their careers and personal lives. Jeonghan faced the repercussions within the academic sphere, his role as a professor brought into question, while his standing as CEO wavered under the industry's scrutinizing gaze.

Y/n endured the piercing looks and hushed whispers of fellow students, the isolation a stark contrast to the prior camaraderie. Yet, the heaviest burden bore down in the form of Yena's hurt—a chasm that yawned wide and uncertain in the landscape of their friendship.

Amidst the fallout, Jeonghan and y/n found solace in their shared resolve. The decision to bring their relationship to light, though devastating in its wake, was a testament to the sincerity of their feelings—a declaration that, despite the cost, bore a haunting beauty amidst the ruins.

~

The proceedings concluded with Jeonghan stepping down from his university position, a move that quelled part of the raging storm. His influence at Yoon Technologies remained strong, salvaged by years of dedication and success that spoke louder than the whispers of scandal.

Y/n faced the disciplinary actions of the board, sanctions that would forever mark an academic record but could not extinguish the passion for the science that had brought them together in the first place.

In the aftermath, Yena's relationship with y/n and her father saw a tenuous beginning towards healing. It was a process fraught with pain and introspection, where forgiveness had to be measured against the sense of betrayal that lingered like a stubborn shadow.

The future remained an abstract notion, one that promised difficulty but was not devoid of hope. Within the quiet corners of their reality, Jeonghan and y/n nurtured the bond they had fought to preserve, a connection that spoke of resilience and quiet strength.

They emerged from the tempest changed—not unscathed, but perhaps wiser and certainly more aware of the preciousness of the love they carried with them into the unclear path ahead, a silent promise of resolution held tight in their joined hands.

[remy-lupin]

Theme: They hate everyone.. but you?

1. During a bustling company event where Person A typically isolates themselves from the crowd, Person B gently coaxes them into a quiet corner for a conversation. This simple act of understanding and compassion makes Person A feel seen amidst their usual feelings of alienation, fostering a rare moment of connection.

2. On a chaotic day in the city, Person A finds themselves overwhelmed by the noise and the crowds. Just as they're about to snap, Person B steps in, guiding them to a serene park. As they sit on a secluded bench, Person B's calm presence and attentive listening help soothe Person A's frayed nerves, reinforcing Person A's singular affection for them.

3. At a mutual friend’s dinner party, Person A feels out of place and irritable around the other guests. Noticing their discomfort, Person B starts a private game of word association between just the two of them, keeping Person A engaged and mentally stimulated, which eases their social anxiety and deepens their bond.

4. During a group project at work, Person A struggles to hide their disdain for their colleagues' inefficiency. Person B, recognizing the brewing tension, steps in to mediate, subtly steering the team's efforts and highlighting Person A's contributions, which not only improves the project outcome but also solidifies Person A's respect and gratitude towards Person B.

5. On a rainy day, Person A's car breaks down, leaving them stranded and fuming. Person B, hearing about the incident, arrives with a smile and an umbrella, offering a ride and a listening ear, which turns the dreary day into an unexpected adventure, allowing Person A to reluctantly admit that their day was significantly brightened by Person B's presence.

6. At a local café, Person A sits alone, brooding over their coffee as they watch the world go by with a critical eye. Person B joins them, bringing a favorite book to share and discuss. The thoughtful gesture and engaging conversation remind Person A why Person B is the exception to their usual disdain for others.

7. When Person A receives bad news about a family issue, they withdraw, shunning all attempts at comfort from acquaintances. However, when Person B shows up at their door with a home-cooked meal and offers to just sit in silence together, Person A accepts, finding unexpected solace in Person B's quiet, unobtrusive support.

8. In a meeting where Person A is unfairly criticized by their peers, they struggle to maintain their composure, feeling the familiar rise of contempt. Person B, sensing the injustice, subtly defends Person A’s point of view, articulating the merits of their ideas. This act of advocacy not only helps soothe Person A’s frustrations but also cements their trust in Person B.

9. During a particularly stressful week, Person A avoids all social contact, preferring the confines of their home. Person B, understanding their need for space, sends a thoughtful text each day, offering words of encouragement without expecting a reply. Person A finds themselves waiting for these messages, a testament to their unique bond with Person B.

10. After a significant personal achievement, Person A finds little joy in the lukewarm congratulations from others. When Person B pulls them aside to share a heartfelt, personalized congratulation, emphasizing how they’ve observed and appreciated Person A's hard work, Person A feels genuinely celebrated for the first time, deepening their appreciation for the one person they can tolerate.