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#check your kids candy
alien-from-planet-zog · 6 months
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Hat Man be upon ye
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pettyprocrastination · 10 months
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im gonna be honest after the initial shock and hours long conversation that would happen, Jeff Morales would absolutely force miles to put on his suit and film informational videos about stranger danger and self-defense after learning he’s spiderman
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avianii · 6 months
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TRICK OR TREAT ANII!! <3
hi mar!!! he found a thing and now wants to touch it.
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bumblingbabooshka · 3 months
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what would Tuvok’s reaction be to fruity pebbles? >:)
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Put Them BACK.
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parents PLEASE check your kids’ halloween candy this year. just found a roguefort cookie in this snicker’s bar. stay safe
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thenerdestsquirrel · 6 months
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trick or treat?
Have a small model of a house! As a treat!
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giographixnola · 2 years
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PSA
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fuckkyourlife · 2 years
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WATCH OUT FOR ALLERGIES?? YOU MEAN RAZORBLADES?!
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lightfallsword · 1 year
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“The only advice I can offer for the holiday is to make sure you examine your treats after acquiring them. There are some people who find it humorous to line them with tricks instead.”
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emptyjunior · 8 months
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Enough random notes that have a written story on them as environmental storytelling, explore the space, get crazier with it.
You move into a house and aw cute, it has the kids height on the walls but you notice there's a three foot difference in height between measurements, you check the date, they're a month apart. The final measurement is on the ceiling. It's dated two days ago.
You're part of a recovery team that have finally found a stranded ship, they were found too late and have all passed a long time ago. They all died of starvation. You enter their storeroom, it's filled with food. In the dining hall you find the tables laden with perfectly fine looking breads, cakes, cured meats, jams, candies. Your medic says all the people sitting at the table didn't eat a Thing.
You wake up in an apocalypse. You can't find anyone at all as you wander the streets but you do hear faint music playing from somewhere. You stumble into a supermarket, to see all the aisles still full, except for the shelf that was full of ear plugs, which look to be the only thing that was looted.
Like there's light, sound, props. Having a street where every house is decimated except for One. Landing on a planet known for having No Water and a plant is growing and you don't know where it could have possibly gotten moisture from but you can't find the citizens Anywhere.
I'm sorry, I'm just kinda over the "graffiti on the wall to show the bad guy is around". That's not environmental storytelling that's just normal story. Show me I'm in the villains territory by the rain suddenly cutting out above me as I'm driving, even though it's meant to be raining all night. I park the car and step out, and realise the constellations are Wrong, until I see they're Not constellations, they're the blinking lights of a massive ship-
I Will stop now because everytime I go to write a sentence it devolves into another prompt but I'm just saying we have a Lot of senses, engage them, show me the Environment in environmental storytelling.
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tadfools · 6 months
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Make sure to check your kid's Halloween candy this year!!! I just opened my son's snickers bar and found an astral tadpole that could have unlocked his illithid potential!!!!
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multific · 3 months
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In This Together
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: Your period is late.
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You tried your best not to panic. You tried your best to keep it together.
You tried... but on the inside, you were panicking over it.
And who wouldn't be?
Your period was late! And you wanted to crawl into a hole and cry all day.
Overdramatic? Possibly, yes.
But you were scared, so in your mind, it all made sense.
You even got to a point on your third day that you avoided Mattheo at all costs.
Which he of course noticed.
He tried to catch you in the halls but you were quicker.
He even debated barging into the girl's restroom at one point. 
On the fifth day, he finally caught you and cornered you in the library.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he genuinely looked hurt.
"It's just..." you looked up at him, you knew no one was around you, so you decided to tell him. "I'm late."
"What do you mean? You don't have any classes."
"No..." you wanted to cry and yell but you just let out a sigh. "My period is late." you whispered and he froze in one place.
"But we always used... protection."
"Yes."
"How would it be possible? Did you check with the nurse?"
"I didn't check. My period always came when it should."
"We should go to the nurse."
"I'm scared." you said and you sounded so honest and desperate Mattheo hugged you.
"I'm here, we will figure it out okay? It could be that you are just a bit later than usual. Everything will be fine." he kissed your hair as you hugged him closer.
The next morning, you woke up to a certain pain.
A pain you knew very well.
And indeed, your panic was for nothing. You were simply later than usual.
You felt so relieved. 
Someone knocked on your door before barging in.
"Good morning, Beautiful, so, I made a plan. Simple but I think we could do it. So, you stay in school, I drop out. I go and work in a store or at the Ministry, anywhere. I will put all my paychecks to one side and it would be a start. Then, you can give birth and we would have a home, you can decide if you want to go to finish school after or work, but I also have a small inheritance from my father so we can figure it out."
You blinked at your boyfriend. 
"You didn't sleep did you?"
"Not a blink! Theo threw pillows at me because I kept mumbling, but I thought my plan was good. What do you say?"
"I really do appreciate you coming up with this, Matty but-"
"We are keeping the baby. I don't think that is up for debate... at least not to me."
"We don't have to keep the baby."
"But I want to! I-I realize we are young but we can do it."
"Matty, I'm not pregnant. You were right, my period was just later than usual."
"Oh." his shoulders slacked. "And I spent all night thinking..."
"I appreciate it, and it is very nice to know you wouldn't just leave."
"Of course, I wouldn't."
"Yes, I get it. You look disappointed."
"I'm not going to lie, I spent probably the last four hours just imagining the cutest kid with your eyes and smile and... I kinda am disappointed. It's okay though, I know your father would have killed me so at least now we can wait until after marriage."
"Yes, what? You want to get married?"
"Don't get me started on that. It was another sleepless night after you told me about your father and his... older views." you smiled and walked over to him. 
"I love you." you wanted to say so many things, but you knew this would be simple and enough.
"I love you too." you hugged him and kissed him. "Then, I will get you some chocolate and candy."
"Aww, thank you. Who could have thought you would be such a great boyfriend."
"Well, duh. I'm the best Slytherin."
"That you are."
"And the best boyfriend."
"Exactly." you pulled him in for another kiss.
You really feared that he would just run and be like the guy your friends thought he would be, but it was good to know that he had his own plans, and his future certainly involved you.
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Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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highvern · 3 months
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When I Kissed the Teacher
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genre: fluff, humor
Summary: Mr. Kim has a crush, to his students that much is clear. It's also clear that you like him too. What happens when a group of meddlesome ten year olds decide to play cupid for their two favorite teachers?
Warnings: science teacher mingyu, grammar teacher reader, meddling students, crushes, flirting, lots of candy and coffee
Length: ~5.2k
Note: it's here! thank you to @gyuwoncheol and @gyuswhore for beta reading and to my lovely @tomodachiii for fact checking my knowledge of primary school lol
read more here
This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!
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Turning from the white board, Mingyu faces the room full of weary children. Mondays are hard. Early mornings are hard. Learning the difference between reptiles and mammals first thing on Monday morning is downright torture. But it’s nothing a little bribery (read: candy) can't fix.
"Alright class, today we're learning about animals! Who remembers what a mammal is?"
Mingyu barely finishes his sentence before a sharp knock interrupts.
“Mr. Kim,” you seethe from the doorway.
Mingyu turns around immediately, eyes wide in fear at your tone. “Yes?”
“Can I speak with you? In the hallway?”
The class of ten year olds “ooooh” as their teacher trails after you like a kicked puppy. If they weren't awake before they sure are now. He shoots a silencing look back before dipping out the door where you wait, foot tapping impatiently.
“Would you like to explain where all my printer paper went?”
Mingyu tries to play dumb. “I don’t know?”
“Oh really?" You blink. "Because I found the box in the workroom and guess what was on the printer? More of your worksheets for your class!”
“How do you know they were for my class?”
You don’t answer, in favor of shoving the animal themed coloring sheets into his chest harshly.
“Listen, anyone could have…” He trails off under your withering glare.
“If you need paper, ask!”
Mingyu burns under the reprimand. “Oh, like you asked to use my paints last month?” 
“That was an accident!" you argue, eyes wide. "And I replaced them.”
“Alright, then I’ll replace the paper I took.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
With a curt nod, you turn to leave; unaware of the blushing cheeks and heart eyes following your retreating form. But the gaggle of elementary students waiting for Mingyu's return see them clear as day; their fits of shrill giggles and whispers falling on deaf ears as he shakes off the stars clouding his mind.
Mr. Kim, their goofy science teacher, has a crush. And like children are wont to do, they hatch a scheme to help him out.
“Alright. Do we remember the difference between fragments and sentences?”
The classroom ripples with tiny voices shouting “yes” with varying degrees of confidence. Their last quiz grades are proof they haven’t quite grasped the subject yet but that’s why you’re planning for an intensive review with them today.
“Awesome! So our warm up today should be a piece of cake. I’ll help with the first one so let's all look at the boa—”
A knock at the door cuts you off. Mingyu stands in the threshold, looking positively mischievous. 
“Sorry to interrupt, Ms. y/l/n. But can I speak with you in the hall?”
Forcing a smile, you respond. “Certainly. Class, why don’t you all work with your desk partner on the worksheet and when I come back we’ll go over the answers?”
They break into groups, chattering about everything but the work you’ve assigned; most notably the way Mr. Kim beams as you follow him outside. However, once you’ve crossed beyond the border of the brightly decorated room, twenty pairs of ears strain to hear why Mr. Kim interrupted their morning lesson.
“What's this about?” you ask.
Mingyu smiles, eyes shifting to the floor. “Here's the paper I owed you.” 
“You’re kidding.”
Three hefty boxes are stacked next to your door. It’s far more paper than Mingyu used for his color sheets, and more than you’d probably need for the rest of the semester.
“I thought you could use extra since you’re too stingy to share.”
“I’m not stingy!” You scoff.
Mingyu simply flashes another self-satisfied smile before heaving a box into his arms and carrying it into your classroom. He could certainly carry all three boxes at once; anytime there were desks or anything else remotely heavy to be moved, Mingyu did so with ease. But the kids don’t think anything of the way he so obviously drags out the torture.
The kids watch Mr. Kim weave through the maze of tables towards the back of the room.
“Lia, can you open the door for me please?”
The little girl jumps from her desk and bolts for the supply closet, braids bouncy with each step.
“In here okay?” Mingyu asks.
Blinking from your stupor, you turn back to your desk as you answer. “Yeah, it’s…whatever.” 
Your class stopped their work to focus on the unfolding drama between their two favorite teachers. They don’t know why you can’t seem to stand their science teacher, and it’s anyone’s guess why Mr. Kim has decided to interrupt their grammar lesson for something so silly. But it’s clear that whenever you two meet an argument is clear to follow. And in the guidebook of elementary school, if you like a girl, you always argue with them.
So enthralled in your silent battle of wits with the peppy man, you miss the two girls plotting in the corner.
Hana turns to her friends with breakneck speed. “Did you see the way Mr. Kim smiled at her?”
“He’s so in love,” Arin sighs dreamily.
“And Miss y/l/n is blushing! We should help them.”
Their whispers are cut off when you clap. “Alright! Back to work!”
Mingyu lingers by the front until you forcibly shoo him away, huffing at the permanent smile stretched across his lips even when the door slams in his face.
“Meet at the tree during recess.” 
The two girls nod and return to their worksheets.
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A new week comes with new challenges. Today’s is the universe’s determination to make your life as difficult as possible.
Your alarm didn’t go off, your shoddy dryer left you with damp clothes, and your car battery decided a short strike would be a great way to start the freezing morning. There was barely time to wash your face with cold tap water let alone put on makeup or style your hair. To top it all off, the green lunchbox with leftovers from your favorite restaurant sits on the shelf of your fridge which means the crumbled granola bar at the bottom of your purse will finally see the light of day.
Flicking on the lights, you rush to prepare for the day. By the grace of god your first period is planning time so no students witness your near breakdown from the absolute shit storm of the morning. Not much is to be done since you already organized everything you needed Friday afternoon but the tense events of the day leave you feeling off. Not even a cup of coffee with the creamer you reserve for days like these helps the overwhelming unease rippling in the back of your throat.
Your allotted private time washes by and before you know it, a gaggle of students filters into your room, giddy on holiday spirit and sugar. The first five minutes of class are spent reminding them their butts belong in chairs at their own stations, that the warmup is for them to complete on their own, and if they aren’t feeling well enough to do classwork they need to go to the nurse.
Twenty minutes into the lesson and the worksheet for their quiz on Friday finally manages to capture their attention. A few students struggle but most are sailing through. Its the same material as last week just with a new puzzle for them to complete once they have all the correct answers.
“Alright, who can tell me what word fits for number six?” you ask.
The attentiveness you’ve sweated to cultivate all morning dissolves when a volunteer knocks to distribute candy-grams.
“Delivery!” a young woman sings as she enters, dressed in red from head to toe with heart shaped sunglasses and a sparkly headband. Her wicker basket flows with candy bars wrapped with shiny ribbon and cardstock penned with confessions.
The shrill symphony of oohs and ahhs as the kids receive pieces of candy raises the vein on your temple. 
“And for Ms. y/l/n!” the young woman sing-songs, heart headband bouncing as she approaches your desk.
The cardstock reads one of the cheesy messages the school provides for the Valentine cards they sell as a yearly fundraiser.
‘I like you a choco-lot! - your secret admirer’ 
You throw it into a drawer in your desk, oblivious to the crestfallen faces of two little girls watching with rapt attention. 
“I don’t think she likes chocolate,” Arin whispers.
“No. Remember during Halloween? She said her favorite candy is Twix. She gave Gabi an extra point on the spelling test when she brought in her halloween candy and gave them to her.” 
“Well maybe she’s mad because it wasn’t a Twix!”
“Maybe. But Mr. Kim didn’t react to the note on his desk this morning either,” Hana huffs. “But he was late so maybe he didn’t see it.”
Your second attempt to put class back on track falls flat. Instead of group review, kids come up to your desk one by one to check their answers while you nurse your headache until the bell dismisses everyone to their next destination. Another crop of students flood the seats, emotions running high from who did and didn’t receive candy in their last class. Two students end up arguing about who knows what and then proceed to break into frustrated tears.
You bite your tongue to stop from doing the same and put on one of the movies you reserve for days like these.
When Mingyu walks into your room after school ends and all the kids are dismissed for pick up, you give him a look that sends him turning around and exiting the way he came without a word.
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Tuesday brings a better attitude. Mostly because you get to take all of your class to the library for silent reading. But the homemade stirfry sitting in your lunch box in the teacher’s lounge helps too.
Your second period kids spread out through the room, some sprawled across the worn rugs on their bellies while others curl up in the much coveted bean bags; a few choose to hide between the imposing bookshelves, crowded on all sides by the smell of old paper. 
With an overly sweetened latte sitting in one hand, and a new novel in the other, you perch at the long table near the librarian's desk to ‘supervise.’
“How did you manage to get a copy of The Gate? I couldn’t even get the pre-order before it sold out.” Elise, the librarian, asks. 
You smile into your coffee cup before responding. “Eh, I know a guy.”
“You do? I thought you didn’t date?”
“I don’t.” You nod. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t have connections.”
“Well whoever your ‘connection’ is, send them my way when you're done with him.”
You pretend to ponder before answering, “I’ll think about it.”
Snapping your book shut, you rise to gather the kids to return back to class. It takes several minutes as a few refuse to join the line until their current chapter is finished and Kai pulls out the puppy dog eyes, begging to stay all day to finish his book. 
You corral them out the door with promises of more reading time on Friday if they behave well the rest of the week. Some roll their eyes but most nod enthusiastically at the opportunity to skip on their weekly quiz.
Unlocking the door, you unpack your things and find a basket of Valentine’s on your desk to be passed out. Almost all the kids receive at least one, some find two or even three heart shaped sugar cookies on their desk. Your heart squeezes when some of the students decide to divy up their cookies and gift them to the students who didn’t receive a note. 
The last cookie at the bottom of the basket has a note with your name on it and a message in the same swirly script as yesterday’s.
We go together like milk and cookies. - your secret admirer
As far as cheesy Valentine’s go, you’ve seen worse. But free snacks are free snacks and the confection tastes great dipped in your coffee.
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Your fourth period class focuses on their worksheets, silently deciphering the reading and ticking of questions. You promised whatever group finished first with the most right answers gets a special Valentine treat; full sized candies and extra credit on Friday. 
Whatever it takes to keep them focused while you work through grading everything for your other classes.
You don’t notice the man waiting at the door until one of your kids greet their science teacher; a ripple of tiny ‘Hi, Mr. Kim!’s following. 
“Sorry to interrupt,” Mingyu announces from the door. “But, ugh, the volunteer accidentally gave me this.”
“Oh! Thanks Min—Mr. Kim.” 
You take the can of orange soda from his hand and skim the note.
I have a ‘crush’ on you. - your secret admirer
None of the students can read the note from their seats but you and Mr. Kim look equally bashful. 
“What are you guys working on? Mingyu asks, hoping to diffuse the tension.
A cacophony of voice race to explain their assignment. Mingyu pretends to understand, smiling at their enthusiasm and grabbing a worksheet for himself. 
He plants himself in one of the tiny plastic chairs next to your desk meant for ten year olds rather than a grown man of his size. It’s comical the way his knees brush his chest and any small move across the slippery seat threatens to land him on the floor.
Reviewing the sheet, Mingyu announces, “Alright, how about if you guys finish your work before me, we can have a pizza party in my class on Friday?”
More screams bounce off the walls.
“You guys can’t finish if you’re talking to Mr. Kim,” you remind them.
The room descends into a cozy calm; the sound of pencils on paper, your keyboard clicks, and the soft jazz from the computer speakers blending together.
You don’t look up to grab the answer key from the corner of the desk, Mingyu huffing from his seat at being caught.
“No cheating,” you smirk under your breath.
“Creative strategy,” he argues.
Instead of answering you shake your head and continue to focus on your own tasks. 
Ten minutes and twenty emails later, two groups of students rise and approach your desk at the same time. 
“We finished first!”
“No, we did!”
“Guys,” you interrupt them. “I’ll grade them both and whoever has more right wins. Besides, Mr. Kim owes you a pizza party anyway.”
The entire class cheers at the news while Mingyu playfully pouts. Maybe if he hadn’t given up on his worksheet to snoop through the basket full of snacks on your bookshelf, he wouldn’t be eating his own words.
The second group of students to approach your desk ends up victorious. You mark down their candy orders to pick up on your weekly grocery shopping trip on Thursday night before sending them to back up their belongings so you can all head to the cafeteria.
“What’d you bring for lunch?” Mingyu asks as he walks with you to the teachers lounge to retrieve your lunch boxes.
“Pasta salad.”
“Wanna trade?” 
“What’d you bring?” you ask, handing him the black grocery bag you know carries his lunch.
“Pasta salad.”
You roll your eyes and kick the fridge shut.
After lunch you have another free period. The printing room is empty so you take advantage and make enough copies for the rest of the week. Perhaps Mingyu wasn’t wrong to bring you three boxes of paper.
Lugging the stack in hand, you turn down that hall only to find a familiar face standing guard outside your classroom.
“Arin? Why are you in the hallway? You should be in class.”
“I was just…going to the bathroom!”
“Really? Because there's a bathroom right outside Mrs. Lee’s classroom if I remember correctly.”
“It was gross!”
Considering Mrs. Lee’s classroom sits on the main hallway and intersects with two other grades, it probably looked more akin to a battlefield than a restroom at this time of day.
“Okay…but hurry back. And I’m gonna let Mrs. Lee know what took you so long so she isn’t worried.” 
You side step around her but she moves right into your path. And then again. And again.
“Arin, what are you doing?” 
“Sorry, Ms. y/l/n. I don’t feel good. Can you walk me to the nurse?”
Crouching to her height, you rest the back of your hand against her forehead. Arin never admits she doesn’t feel well even when she’s tinged green and hacking up a lung. It’s the perfect admission to keep you from peering past the threshold of your classroom and blowing the entire operation.
Until a loud crash and high pitched scream breaks the silence of the hallway.
You jump back up.“What the—”
“Wait!” Arin shouts, throwing her arms and legs wide to block your path like a three foot tall ‘X’.
“Arin, what is going on?” 
“Mr. Kim said animals make themselves bigger to be scarier,” Arin says, tiny face scowling.
“And why are you trying to scare me?” 
Another bang echoes out the classroom forcing you to pick the little girl up by her armpits and carry her inside with you. She slips from your hold as you stare with a wide mouth at the scene. A desk is pulled up to the board allowing Hana to balance atop it as she scribbles across the chalkboard.
Wil you be my Valintin? - Mr. K
“Hana! What are you doing?”
“Arin!” Hana huffs indignantly.
Arin opens her mouth to respond but the look on your face silences both girls. You help Hana down from the desktop before crossing your arms in front of you and taking a deep breath.
“Sit. Now.”
They trudge to the seats next to your desk; heads hung low, tears brimming in their eyes. Neither has been on the receiving end of such a reprimand before; they’re usually your best behaved students.
You allow them to stew in silence as you right the two chairs Hana knocked over. She doesn’t look injured which is a relief but your nerves are shot from the perplexing situation. Hana and Arin can be troublemakers but they’ve never done anything like this before.
Once you're certain the urge to yell at them is quelled you approach your desk and take a seat. You watch them expectantly. Arin chances a glance up and swiftly looks back to her lap while Hana focuses on the picture at the edge of your desk, blinking away tears.
“Girls,” you sigh. “What were you doing in here?”
“Ms. y/l/n,” Arin blubbers.
Presenting the tissue box, you wait several moments while they both dab their eyes and blow their noses before speaking again.
“We just thought…” Hana starts, glancing at the other girl.
“Thought what?”
“Mr. Kim’s in love with you and we wanted to help!”
“I see.” You nod. “Did Mr. Kim tell you that?”
They look at each other before shaking their heads ‘no.’
Your temple throbs from the situation. A measured breath through your nose sends the girls into a frenzy.
“We can tell!”
“You’re perfect for eachother!”
“And did Mr. Kim ask you to sneak into my classroom while I wasn’t here?”
“No ma’am,” they mumble in unison.
It dawns on you that the two girls have been behind all the gifts you’ve received this week.“Are you two behind all the Valentine’s I’ve gotten?”
“We were just trying to help!” cries Arin.
Moving to crouch in front of them, you wait until they both look up at you.
“It’s very sweet what you were trying to do and I’m sorry I yelled at you. But you can’t sneak out of class. What if something happened and you got hurt climbing the table?”
“I’m sorry,.” Hana says.
“Me too.” 
You pass them more tissues to wipe their noses.
“How about we get you two back to class?”
“But what about Mr. Kim?”
“Yeah! He needs to know how you feel.”
“That’s between Mr. Kim and I. Understand? Those are grown up things.”
The repulsion painting their faces forces you to bite back a snort. Instead you offer your hands, pinkies extended towards them both.
“How ‘bout this? I promise to talk to Mr. Kim if you two promise no more meddling. Okay?”
All three of you share a smile as you intertwine their pinkies with your own. 
“Now,” you say whilst jumping to your feet. “You are supposed to be in Mrs. Lee’s class. And you are supposed to be at the library.”
Escorting them both back to where they belong, they can’t help but giggle when you pass Mr. Kim’s room and he waves. The question is clear on his face but you shrug your shoulders. 
You’ll explain everything later.
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You smile knowingly at the corner of the classroom where two little cupids sit as the volunteer brings you a lollipop with a note reading ‘I’m a sucker for you.’
Part of you feels guilty they pooled their own money together to supply you and the teacher next door with treats all week in an effort to play matchmaker. But another part can’t help but laugh. And when you get the chance to tell Mingyu what they’ve planned you’ll no doubt laugh harder.
But because the universe somehow knows you lied to your students the day prior you find your reckoning in the cafeteria.
It was Mingyu’s fault. Or at least that’s what you argue. You barely made it three steps inside the room before the large man bulldozes you; sending his lunch and your own down your fronts in a palette of greens and browns.
His eyes widen in horror as a slice of tomato peels off your shirt and flops to the floor. “I am so sorry!”
“Seriously?” you choke.
The entire school watches with baited breath. Students and teachers alike watch with abject horror as you skirt around the taller man and flee with shaking shoulders and your chin dipped into your chest. Mingyu gapes like a fish as you run by, frozen in place. As hundreds of eyes settle on him, he realizes they all saw how he drenched you in salad and coffee. 
Mrs. Lee dismisses him with a nod, silently agreeing to watch his class so he can trapeze out to his car and find something suitable to wear.
Mingyu watches the game of kickball unfold across the field, keeping an eye on the rowdier students as they pick teams. But even from a distance he recognizes one face is notably absent.
He finds Kai slumped on a bench at the far corner of the playground using a stick to draw lines in the dirt at his feet.
“Hey, buddy. You feeling okay?” Mingyu asks. 
Kai never misses a game of kickball. Even when his arm was in a cast at the beginning of the year, he insisted he only needed one good arm to play defense and neither to play offense. Kai’s mom simply laughed at Mingyu’s concerned email and said her son was exactly like his dad and there was no stopping him if he was set on something.
So to have the little curly haired boy isolated on the far edge of the field is serious cause for concern.
Kai looks up briefly at Mingyu’s approach before returning to his mud art. “Mr. Kim, have you ever liked someone?”
“Liked someone?” Mingyu drops onto the bench next to him.
“Like,” the little boy inhales trying to explain himself. “Like a girl?”
Mingyu snuffs out his chuckle at Kai’s innocent question. “Yeah, why do you ask? Do you like a girl?”
“I–My friend does!”
“Okay,” Mingyu nods.
“And he doesn’t know how to tell her.”
“Well that's tough.” 
“How’d you tell the girl you liked?”
“Well,” Mingyu drops to a whisper. “Once upon a time, I had a crush on this girl. And she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. Smart and funny too.”
“Did she run fast?”
The question confuses Mingyu at first but then he remembers he’s talking to a ten year old and the rules of attraction hinge on who gets the swing the highest and jumps off.
“She ran really fast,” he nods. “And she made me so nervous I couldn’t talk to her. My palms got all sweaty and my face turned red.”
“That happens to m—I mean my friend!”
“And it feels like there's a bunch of frogs jumping around your stomach?”
“Yeah,” Kai nods. “So how’d you tell her?”
“Well one day, I finally decided to introduce myself. Walked right up to her, opened my mouth and…poof.”
“Poof?”
“Poof.” Mingyu hangs his head. “I forgot everything I was gonna say to her.”
“What happened after that?”
“She waited a few minutes and then said ‘okay, I’ll meet you at 6:30 for dinner.’”
“She knew you liked her?”
Mingyu nods gravely before imparting his most sage wisdom. “Girls are very smart, Kai.”
“So I should try and tell her I like her?”
“Your friend should at least try,” Mingyu shrugs.
Kai blushes, having been clearly caught. “But what if she doesn’t like him back?”
“That’s okay. It just wasn’t meant to be.”
“Thanks, Mr. Kim. You’re the best!”
“You’re welcome, buddy.” Mingyu gives him a fist bump before shooing him back towards his friends. “Now go play kickball, the boys need your help.”
Kai runs off but a new presence fills the vacant seat on the bench. 
“I thought we agreed to keep our romantic life a secret at work.”
Mingyu smiles sheepishly before turning to look at you. “Oh, you heard that?” 
“Yeah, I heard,” you smile. “They already think you have a crush on me.”
“Smart kids.” He says, enjoying the way the worn sage button up swallows your figure. 
Mingyu loves when you wear his clothes, he told you this morning when you stole his favorite jacket. Which is why you both took almost twenty minutes to gain your composure after he spilled an entire tray of food on you. 
Mingyu swears he didn’t do it on purpose. How could he have known you were coming through the door at that very moment? But he’d do it again if it meant seeing you in one of the spare shirts he keeps in the truck again. Even if it meant he’d also sustain minor coffee burns.
“They think I have a crush on you too.”
You watch the way he traces your collar bone, catching the twinkle of the diamond pendant resting at the hollow of your throat; his birthstone. It was the first piece of jewelry he bought you when you started dating almost a decade ago. 
You hadn’t taken it off since the day he gave it to you with shaky hands and red ears.
“Do you?” He asks.
“Do I, what?”
“Have a crush on me?”
“Oh Gyu,” you coo at him. “I have the fattest crush on you.”
“Damn right you do.”
Sitting outside with an entire audience of other teachers and students doesn’t allow either of you to fall into the familiar comfort of adorning kisses or airtight hugs. But Mingyu’s pinky brushing yours in the ample space between your figures is enough for now.
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Friday is Valentine’s day which means all the kids don red and pink outfits and prepare for a day of candy filled fun. You spent all morning helping the art teacher set up paint stations. Why she cashed in on the long owed favor with such a simple task was beyond you but the monotony is a nice change from the chaos you’ve experienced all week. When second period rolls around, you shuffle back to your classroom; welcomed by the line of students waiting outside your locked door. 
“I swear! I saw Mr. Kim and Ms. y/l/n at the grocery store last night.”
“Hana, Ms. y/l/n said its grown up business. Maybe you just saw people that look like them,” Arin shrugs. “And I don’t wanna get in trouble again.”
“It had to be them!”
They quiet down as they walk past your figure, smiling like cherubs when you greet them.
Students file in one by one, shrill voices echoing from excitement. Most cheer about their pizza party with Mr. Kim later that afternoon, a few squeals about the set of Valentine’s their parents sent with them to handout. 
Your ears catch a few other snippets of conversation as you wait for the stragglers to make it by. 
“Oh my gosh those are so pretty!”
“Those look like the flowers my mommy likes!”
Curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to step into the room and see what the kids are talking about. 
An explosion of pink camellias resting on your desk. Huge blossoms with pale pink petals spill over the sides of the vase, slips of greenery sprinkled throughout. Approaching your desk, the floral aroma fills your nose. The blooms feel like soft velvet under the pad of your finger tracing the largest one in the center of the arrangement.
Who on earth?
As if on cue a mop of black hair peaks in from the hall. Mingyu eyes the bouquet and the pleased look on your face before allowing his own to break into his infamous smile.
“Just wanted to make sure they got here safe,” he calls.
You whip your head up, eyes wide and mouth open at the can of worms he just spilled.
“What?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Can’t a man buy his fiancee flowers?”
He disappears with a wink but his laughter at the chaos he’s stirred up can be heard miles away.
“MISS Y/L/N YOU’RE MARRIED?” Mark screams.
Another shrill voice answers, “Fiancee means they’re almost married, idiot!” 
“You lied to us!” Arin and Hana chorus.
Dropping into your chair, you hide your burning face in your hands. Coincidentally it also hides your shy grin from the hoard of ten year olds jumping in their seats at the news.Mingyu is in so much trouble.
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A few weeks before the new school year starts, a group of nearly eleven year olds crowd into the pews of the massive church at the center of town. Stained glass reflects patterns over the marble floors, casting them in a rainbow of colors. 
Some sit on their hands to calm the adrenaline pumping through their tiny veins. Others rock back and forth in an effort to watch Mr. Kim strut down the aisle in a fancy looking suit. 
But all of them gasp when you turn the corner.
You look like a real life princess in your wedding dress, floating towards their science teacher waiting at the altar with tears and a smile matching your own.
When you and Mr. Kim kiss, the girls squeal and the boys blush.
Several rows ahead sits a small group of older students, who’ve long graduated elementary school and are headed to college in a few days. They exchange satisfied smiles and pat themselves on the back for getting their favorite fourth grade teachers together all those years ago.
Maybe now your new classes won’t try playing Cupid like they do every year given Mr. Kim finally married their favorite teacher.
-
Fic taglist: @tacosandbitch @leechanniee @syprosight @prettygyuuu @itza-meee @cottoncheol @ashluvy @jkslvsnella @xuimhao @vanishingboots @miujunhui @viciousdarlings @imprettyweird @akeminy @sana-is-ms-rmty @jayfrvr @watermelonsugawara @bouclesdefeu
Permanent taglist:
@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu
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awearywritersworld · 10 months
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"do you like me?" "nope."
gojo satoru x reader summary: even yuuji realizes that gojo has a crush on you, but you're oblivious as ever w/c: 1.1k tags/warnings: ft. yuuji and megumi. fluff. super light angst. lots of banter. a lil mutual pining. yuuji and gojo being chaotic. gender neutral reader. a/n: not sure how this turned out, but it was fun to write! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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"(l/n)-sensei!!"
you're trying to relax and really, fifteen minutes is all you want, but these days that seems impossible.
you turn your head toward the sparring field just in time to see yuuji fly into a tree about 30 yards away. megumi is already on the ground struggling to get up.
meanwhile gojo is prancing, literally prancing, in the opposite direction. you walk toward the group with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment playing across your features, all your hope for some peace and quiet crushed.
"that was awesome!" the pink haired boy shouts from amid a mess of leaves and branches.
gojo gushes over the praise, his hands pressing against his cheeks. "thank you, yuuji! it's nice to know someone around here appreciates my unmatched strength."
"i don't remember offering to be a part of the demonstration," megumi grumbles, finally rising to his feet.
his demeanor is less than pleased and you glance at him sympathetically before turning to gojo. "you do know that you're an adult, right? like, as in, a fully grown man."
"(y/n)-chaaaaan, you're always so mean to me," he whines, grabbing your hands dramatically. "what have i done to deserve such cruel treatment?"
"today or in general?" you pretend to think for a second. "i seem to remember you waking me up at seven this morning so that you didn't have to go to your meeting with masamichi-san alone-"
"he was mad at me for skipping the last one i had!"
"-and then you hid my phone for almost an hour because i wouldn't give you my last candy bar-"
"i was starving, (y/n)-chan! it wasn't my fault, you know that!"
"-and then you destroyed that tree, which i really happened to like by the way."
his gaze flickers toward that direction, the splintered wood a sad remnant of what it used to be, then throws his arms in the air. "this is so unfair!"
"(l/n)-sensei! did you see?" yuuji calls out, already fully recovered and bounding toward you.
"i sure did." you chuckle at his tattered clothes and unfazed attitude.
"what'd ya think?"
you really can't bring yourself to scold him, not with all the excitement in his voice. "oh, it was certainly something."
"did you hear that, gojo-sensei?" yuuji lights up.
megumi disguises his laugh with a cough. "i don't think that was a compliment."
the boy visibly deflates so you ruffle his hair. "it was pretty cool, i just don't want you getting hurt." that earns a grin, to your relief.
"so i get yelled at, but you're nice to him?" gojo pouts indignantly.
"yes."
"ugh! this is killing me, (y/n)-chan!" he announces before promptly knocking you to the ground, the action something between a hug and a tackle.
"gojo, get off of me!" you yell, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.
"i can't! not until you forgive me!"
your giggles ring through the air, music to gojo's ears, and your hands push him away as he tries to tickle your sides. you look like two kids, rolling around in the grass and shouting at one another.
yuuji leans in toward megumi, his voice hushed as if he's about to reveal the world's biggest secret. "i'm starting to think there's something going on between those two."
his friend looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "you're just now noticing?"
~~~
you're making dinner in your apartment while gojo sits on the kitchen floor, his legs splayed out and taking up nearly half of the small room. his blindfold had been discarded at one point or another, something he made a habit of doing when it was just the two of you.
"what are we having tonight, chef?"
"me? i'm having braised chicken thighs. i'm not sure about you though," you tease.
you didn't invite him to dinner, he just kind of followed you back to your place after sparring practice. you don't really mind, you never do, not that you'd ever admit it out loud.
"you wouldn't give me your candy bar and now you won't have dinner with me either? today is the worst! is this still about the tree? i told you i was sorry-"
"geez i was just kidding!" you cut him off. "of course you can have some, but only if you get the flour off the top shelf for me."
"i guess that's a fair trade," he reasons, rising to his feet lazily.
the cabinet is just to your left, so his body presses into yours as he reaches up, the contact making your heart flutter.
"thanks," you exhale when he sets it down within your reach.
he doesn't return to his sitting position, just leans against the counter and watches you carefully stir the ingredients in the pan.
"do you like me?" he inquires suddenly.
"nope."
"hm, do you like like me?" he suggests, a small smirk playing at his lips.
"gojo, that's honestly defamatory."
he rolls his eyes playfully. "c'mon, be serious."
"you be serious," you challenge the usually facetious man.
"i am."
resting your spoon on the pan, you turn to face him, unsure if he's just messing with you like always. the room is silent, save for the faint popping of oil, as he waits for you to say something.
"why do you wanna know?"
"'cause i like you, why else?"
your hands gather the fabric of your apron nervously, crumpling it between your fingers while you avoid his gaze. his words strike you as entirely implausible. after all, he's gojo and you're, well, you.
"you... you shouldn't joke about stuff like that."
he laughs at you and it breaks your heart a little, but then you feel two lithe hands on either side of your face. "(y/n), look at me."
you do, albeit apprehensively, and his eyes bore into your own with an intensity you aren't familiar with. it makes your knees feel weak. a smile tugs at his lips before they capture your own, the movement slow and soft.
your fingers reach up to wrap around his wrist, an attempt to steady yourself against him, before one of his hands travels down to your hip and gives it a light squeeze.
you taste so sweet, feel so perfect in his hands, that gojo kicks himself for waiting so long to kiss you. his lips move to the corner of your mouth, across your cheek, then begin to work their way up your jaw. he hums against your skin, satisfied with the breathy noises he's pulling from your throat.
then, the smell of burning invades your senses and you pull away from each other with wide eyes, exclaiming in unison. "the food!"
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casiia · 3 months
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dad simon can NOT handle when his kid has a tantrum. he’s the kind of dad that will either throw candy in their face to shut them up or hand them off to you. he doesn’t want to raise his kids upon scolding and raised voices so he will just pinch the bridge of his nose and hold his tongue until you can get to it.
you’re so much better at it than he is, instead of bargaining with them or having them get their way, your brain works quick and you reassure them that eventually they will get what they want as long as they wait — because simon riley’s kids are anything but patient.
whenever simon tries to settle them down, he ends up making it worse. he never understand why they are so upset in the first place; because majority of the time, they’re crying over things that they have done! frustrated that they put their shoe on the wrong foot. angry that when they went to check the cupboard, their favorite snack is gone because they had finished it the other night.
he would say “it’s not a big deal. quit your whining,” and obviously, they do the exact opposite. you would help them, fix their shoes or tell them that their are other snacks they can eat.
whenever simon tries to ease his kid, he’ll end up giving them exactly what they want. kid wants to eat ice cream before dinner? he’s starting the car. kid needs to have the newest video game? he’ll buy it. you scold him, and he pretends to understand — but simon will do it all again to avoid a little screaming and crying.
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roturo · 4 months
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⋆⭒˚。⋆ SHE'S BACK! PT2
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GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! (again)₊˚⊹♡ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader
tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, size kink, jealous!reader, jealous!gojo, fluff, creampie, squirting, matingpress, age-gap, reader is described as way smaller than gojo, tummy buldge, teasing, use of nickanmes, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son...
PART 1
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Life is fun.
To say you’ve been having the best months of your life would be an understatement. Starting to know Go- Satoru Gojo has been a rollercoaster of emotions. Mostly the age difference. It wasn’t that big, but 7 years was enough for people to talk. And now that he’s turning 32 people have been checking on him for no stop. You guess he was pretty famous when he was younger, at least more than now. 
Even though he is older than you, he’s a ray of sunshine full of brightness for this sad gray world. He finds fun in the sadness, and that’s why every time you see him, not only his eyes shine because of his beautiful blue orbs, but he makes your life shine with how good he makes you feel.
Another day being a teacher wasn’t like any other- But now you have this pink haired kid running across the classroom, and even though you don’t let your personal ‘persona’ interrupt in your job life, you couldn’t stop from falling into your lover son’s cuteness. But you don’t have favorites! At least you don’t say it out loud…
Satoru always trusted you to keep Yuji Itadori with you whenever he had some extra work to do– and he would spend time with you, sometimes at the classroom while you finish some work, or on special days both of you go out for some ice-cream.
But now Satoru hasn’t called or sent a message. 
You were kinda nervous- Your turn was over and you were waiting for everyone to go home, but you were still wondering what was going on with Yuji.
“Hey cotton-candy, is your daddy coming for you?” You asked the little boy, leaning down to have his attention. Not that you needed it much, you know this kid was about to be as tall as his dad.
“Uh, well…” the kid looked up, shifting your gaze too, looking towards a beautiful woman with pink-ish hair and hazel eyes. holy shit- she really looked like Yuji- maybe she was his-
Mom. Standing next to fucking Yuji’s daddy.
Gojo Satoru.
“Yeah?” He called out your name, you were too lost staring at the couple that you never realized you said his name out loud. Shit. Giving the fakest smile to ever exist in this universe you bowed to both of them, while saying your greetings towards Yuji’s mom.
The little kid called your name, losing the soft grip from your hand and while he ran towards his parents. Real. Real parents.
“Look! Mom and daddy are together! They’re taking me to an amusement park because of my birth-day!” His birthday is next week. You know- you have it in your calendar. But you suppose he wanted to spend a day with both of his parents at the same time.
Does she know you’ve been fucking her hus- ex-husband? And you guess she knows about you by the way she looks at you with a sour face, masked with the hypocrisy of a ‘capitalism smile’
“Oh! You must be Yuji’s favorite teacher- Him and Gojo love talking about you.” The sound of her voice almost made you puke, but the moment she places her hands on Gojo, you swear something inside you exploded. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling- your mind full of how you’re getting yourself out of this situation, and maybe out of the city too.
Are they getting back together? Does he still love her? Is he playing with you?
Does he also have that ‘capitalism smile’? Do you have to be at their economic level? The fuck.. why you’re feeling like this! You and Gojo haven’t even officialized any titles for your…. relationship?
Gojo sensed the change of atmosphere once he saw you staring at them with a lost face. He didn’t intend to come here with her. But he didn’t trust her with you. Your shoulders were tense, that fake broken smile you give to people that have hurt you but way too afraid to speak up towards his way. That kinda broke his heart. 
And what angered him the most, was when the witch laid hands on him. He also felt like he was about to puke, way too disgusted with this encounter that it was almost an instinct when he rapidly moved his body- But at the time he did that, a voice called out your name, making you shift your gaze to the sudden voice.
A tall blonde (not as tall as him), buff, (not as buff as him), with formal clothes he could easily identify that were old but classic- nothing like his style. He was not boring. Came walking towards you, waving at you and later placing his hand in your fucking lower back before both of you paid attention to the family infront of you again.
“Oh- I’m sorry. This is the school principal, Mr. Kento.” He might be overreacting, because a principal shouldn’t be this close towards a teacher, his blue eyed-gaze piercing holes into his face, clearly criticizing any aspect that came from him and fit his mind.
Everything after that was like a bullet piercing his head. Getting in automatic mode to survive this awkward encounter and finish the day as soon as possible. Obviously missing the fact Mr. Kento was married and you were his bridesmaid. 
Gratefully the next was saturday- not losing the chance to get drunk and convince yourself that yesterday didn’t happen. You kinda have problems.
Gojo was worried you didn’t answer any of his calls in the morning. Instead, he went looking for you at your house- using the extra pair of keys you gave him. He was practically married to you. At least what he thinks. 
But he couldn’t understand you. Not once he entered the room and found you staring at the TV, your phone long forgotten somewhere. He called out your name, obviously worried about you. Thank god you showered and cleaned yesterday’s mess. “Baby- Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“Are you getting back together?” 
“With who? What are you talk-”
“With her.”
Gojo gave you a breathless laugh after the last words came out of you before embracing you with his arms. Feeling the heat radiating from his body, the sun to your moon. “With that witch?-- Ppft”  His chest pressed against yours while he chuckled at your assumption. “Why would I ever go back to her, or even meet other women when I have you?”
He felt the tears coming out of your pure eyes wetting his shirt, before his hand traveled and caressed your cheek– kissing away those awful tears that he hated. If he ever has to see you cry it should be– one, because he fucked you so good, or two because he gave you a ring to be by his side for eternity.
“Are you with him?” It’s now his time to ask questions.
“With who?”
“Blonde old guy from yesterday…”
“Oh, Mr. Kento? He’s my best-friend's husband and he's younger than you Satoru” You said while a giggle came out of your mouth and hit his chest with your hand in a light way. 
“Ouh- You tiny thing- How can you hit so hard?” His movements were fast, caging you as fast as possible in his body while he laid you again on your back into your mattress, filling your face with kisses. Seeing you like this was something different to Gojo, it was… more intimate. Your beautiful smile is all for him to adore. Seeing your small body compared to his affected his brain chemistry, leading his blood all down into his cock. 
“I can’t stop wanting to kiss you when you smile, because I want to steal it from you.” His words went straight to your heart, making you blush and avert his gaze from you. “Don’t hide my love, please- let me show you how much I need you.”
His kisses were tender, starting as pure pecks until those pecks turned into trying to claim you as him all over your neck– making you whimper only by his touch. “Maybe we should fullfish Yuji’s wish of giving him a small sister- what do you think?”
“Satoru…”
“What? He keeps rambling about you even when his biological mother is around. Kids his age don’t know how babies are made- but I would gladly show you how and keep you full of my cum everyday just to make sure, y’know?... fucking you here, at mis house… ffuck- at your desk… whenever I have the chance baby.”
Whimpers became moans once his hand reached your trembling core searching for release. Moving your panties to the side– “Sshit baby- You’re so.. wet.” A moan came out of you when his fingers went back to his mouth and he thrusted his covered hips into yours– also searching for friction.While he undressed you and himself too. “Wanna keep you full and nice f’me. So everytime you sit down you think of me. I would love to see your body once I get you pregnant– Ffuck- Scratch that. I would love to wake up every morning by your side. Wake up because of the cries or sounds of our kids. So be a good girl f’me and get pregnant and wifey just f’me, yeah?... fucking yyeah…”
His voice echoes inside your brain, being a trembling mess once he ponders inside of you. Keeping it there just for a moment and feeling him twitch because of how good you make him feel. His thrusts went feral once he truly realized the size difference and the bump forming in your tummy every time he thrusted inside you. Leading one of your hands to rest on your tummy. “Ya feel that? Yeah baby honey… I’m gonna fill this up with my cum- and you’re just gonna take it.” You were a rambling mess once he pressed hard in that spot- Trying to move his hand away from there because the abuse your g-spot was receiving.
The only coherent thing coming out of you,’ah, ah~, ah’ while he dumped his cum inside of you. Still rock hard and full to do it again. His arms engaged with your legs to have better accesses to your pussy, feeling his cock way goo deeper than the first time– taking you in a masting press.
“Fill me up again ´toru…” And oh shit. That made him go feral. His thrusts were erratic and unsynchronized, but each time you swear you could feel him inside your throat. He knew how to use his thing. Your orgasms were not like the other ones you had before. Coating your sheets and Gojo’s pelvis with your liquids– heavy breathes trying to accompany you while Gojo reached his high while you received him like a good girl even when he could barely fit it in again because of your intense orgasm. 
He would always whisper cute things in your ears after sex. Making the both of you laugh with adventure you were slowly creating with him. The family you were creating. And now? His talk while cleaning you up was about baby names 
A/N: this was an experience... the sex was A LOT for me, i never want to hear the word cock again.
taglist: @sirachano0dles @4imhry @chimmysoftpaws @philiatothephobia @xthatpottahfanx @chaotic-tnt
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