#from super hush hush project

[heliosunny]

Ooh so I had a dream that Anaxa was my academic rival. He was relatively standoffish so I figured he disliked me since we only spoke when necessary. I didn’t mind since that meant i could do my introvert things and focus on research. But when we were forced to work together he slowly and methodically over time showed his true colours as a yearning yandere �� like he was obsessed but super cunning!

I’m excited to see what he’s like in game! Lol

Yandere!Anaxa x Reader

Scratch. Scratch.

The steady rhythm of pens against papers filled the research hall, a quiet symphony of intellect in motion. The air was thick with the weight of concentration, punctuated only by the occasional murmur of scholars trading theories, the rustle of turned pages.

And then, Anaxa sat down beside you.

You didn’t react immediately. He was always like this—silent, only engaging when necessary. If he had his way, the two of you would exchange no more than a few words, and that was fine with you.

Except this time, there was no avoiding him. Collaboration was mandatory.

“I don’t like group projects” he said.

“Then don’t slow me down.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “If anything, you’d be the one struggling to keep up.”

“Then let’s not waste time.”

The first task was simple: gather the necessary data, record findings, and return for analysis. Simple in theory, at least.

You had expected this to be a tedious affair, given Anaxa’s usual standoffish nature. Instead, you found yourself standing slightly behind him, quill in hand, watching as he effortlessly extracted information from people as though it was second nature to him.

With scholars, he was sharp and direct, threading his questions in a way that made them eager to prove themselves. With common folk, he was almost… charming, casual yet undeniably persuasive. You had seen him argue in academic settings before—blunt, efficient, never wasting words—but this was different.

You, in contrast, played the role of a secretary, silently noting down everything while he worked.

“I can feel you staring.”

You scoffed and focused back on your notes. “I’m just writing.”

By the time you had gathered everything, the sky had long since darkened.

“Here,” you said, handing him the notes. “We can continue analyzing everything tomorrow.”

Anaxa took them without a word, his fingers brushing against yours.

“…See you tomorrow then”

The next day, Anaxa arrived as usual. But something felt… off.

The way he sat down, just a fraction slower than normal. The faint rigidity in his posture, as if he were forcing himself to act as though nothing was wrong. But you weren’t blind.

You turned slightly toward him, frowning. “You’re warm.”

“I didn’t realize you made a habit of checking my temperature.”

You ignored his teasing and pressed the back of your hand lightly against his forehead. The heat radiating from his skin was undeniable.

“You’re burning up” you muttered. “Why are you even here?”

“I can handle it,” he replied smoothly, pulling back from your touch. “We have work to do.”

You gave him a look but didn’t push further. If he wanted to be stubborn, fine. It wasn’t your problem.

So, you carried on.

At least, until he collapsed.

One moment, he was beside you, the next, his hand slipped, his quill clattering to the floor, and before you could react, he was tipping forward.

“Anaxa—”

Your body moved before your mind could catch up. He was burning. The room buzzed with hushed voices, but you barely registered them as you adjusted your hold on him.

“You idiot” you muttered under your breath, shifting your grip.

The school nurse didn’t seem particularly alarmed—apparently, scholars pushing themselves to the brink wasn’t uncommon. Still, she instructed you to stay with him until he woke, citing that you were his research partner and therefore the most convenient choice.

You sighed but didn’t argue. It wasn’t like you were going to waste time.

Settling into the chair beside the infirmary bed, you placed your research materials on your lap. If you had to stay, you might as well be productive.

Beside you, Anaxa stirred faintly in his fevered sleep.

You shook your head, refocusing on your work.

It wasn’t your problem. Right?

By the time Anaxa stirred awake, you had already finished reviewing and organizing the research data.

“…You stayed?”

“The teacher asked me to” you replied, stretching slightly from your prolonged stillness. “Lucky for you, I got everything sorted while waiting. You don’t have to worry about today’s work.”

“I see,” he muttered before sighing. “I’ll make it up to you. I don’t like leaving debts unpaid.”

“It’s fine. If it’s you, you would’ve finished it without needing my help anyway.”

He huffed a small laugh at that, shaking his head slightly. “Still. Let me repay you somehow.”

You didn’t bother arguing further. If Anaxa wanted to do something in return, he would, regardless of what you said.

The walk to his home was quiet, the evening air carrying a gentle chill. He insisted he was fine, but you weren’t about to let him wander off after collapsing just hours ago. At least not until he was behind his own door.

When you reached his residence, you stopped at the threshold, waiting for him to step inside.

“Go rest” you instructed simply.

Anaxa leaned against the doorway, tilting his head at you with something unreadable in his gaze.

“I will,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

You turned, heading home without a second thought.

The moment the door shut behind him, Anaxa exhaled, letting his carefully constructed mask slip just enough for a glimmer of satisfaction to creep in.

His plan had succeeded.

A fever induced on purpose, a minor sacrifice to buy uninterrupted time with you. To measure your worth.

It had been worth every moment of discomfort.

He wasn’t fully recovered yet, but that didn’t matter. He felt good. Good enough to return tomorrow.

After all, there was still more to do.

The next day, Anaxa arrived in class looking perfectly fine. Or at least, that’s what you assumed.

As you went over the next steps of your research, he sat across from you, quill in hand, but his usual sharp attentiveness was… lacking. His gaze drifted, unfocused, as if his thoughts were miles away.

You frowned, tapping your fingers against the table. “Anaxa.”

“Yes?”

You squinted. “Were you even listening?”

His lips parted slightly as if to deny it, but judging by your unimpressed stare, he knew better than to lie.

“…Not entirely” he admitted.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Alright, I’ll explain it again. This time, try to keep up.”

Anaxa nodded, but as you began your explanation once more, his mind refused to cooperate.

Focus. That was all he needed to do. He was no stranger to deep concentration, to immersing himself in the pursuit of knowledge.

But right now, his mind was full of you.

The way you gestured slightly while explaining, the way your brows knitted in mild frustration, the way your lips moved with certainty,...

I should pull myself together. This research is more important. It’s an opportunity to prove myself, to push boundaries, to—

But then there was you. You, who sat right in front of him, completely unaware of how maddening you were.

His jaw tensed slightly. How frustrating.

By the end of the day, Anaxa had agreed with nearly everything you proposed, his input far less argumentative than usual.

You had chalked it up to discomfort. Maybe he was still feeling unwell, maybe he hadn’t fully recovered from the fever, maybe he was simply tired.

But the truth was far from that.

It wasn’t his discomfort that affected him—it was you.

---

Anaxa was absent the next day.

Instead, one of his acquaintances approached you between classes, delivering his message: “Anaxa said to come to his place for today’s work.”

“That’s it?”

“Pretty much.”

To his credit, working with Anaxa was nothing short of effective.

Most groups would still be figuring out the framework of their research, yet the two of you were already halfway done.

It was almost funny—should you be relieved that you had been paired with one of the top scholars, or irritated that it happened to be him, your long-standing rival?

Yet, oddly enough… these past few days hadn’t been unpleasant.

Maybe, just maybe, he was only unbearable when he was off on his own, doing things his own way. When he worked with you, the process was smooth, methodical, efficient.

After class, you made your way to his home as requested. Anaxa had the workspace neatly prepared, his focus unwavering as you both spent the evening finalizing key points. Hours passed without notice, the ticking of the clock drowned out by the steady rhythm of progress.

When you finally checked the time, you realized it was late.

You gathered your things, stretching slightly. “I should get going.”

Anaxa, who had been reviewing some notes, didn’t look up immediately. “It’s late,” he said, as if that was reason enough for you to stay.

“I can handle a walk home.”

“Stay the night. It’s safer.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then—

The news broadcasting on the TV got your attention.

…Due to unforeseen incidents, residents are strongly advised to avoid traveling at this hour. Increased security presence will remain active throughout the night…

You frowned. Perfect timing.

“It seems you have no choice.”

“Alright, fine. Just for the night.”

“Make yourself comfortable,” he said, “I’ll get you something to drink.”

You narrowed your eyes at his unusual hospitality but didn’t comment. Instead, you took a slow glance around his home, properly observing the space for the first time.

It was… neat. Impeccably so.

Not surprising.

In the kitchen, out of your line of sight, Anaxa exhaled slowly.

He hadn’t expected his plan to work this perfectly. Sure, he had anticipated a high chance of you staying if he played his cards right—but to have the news itself provide the final push?

Fate must have been on his side tonight.

As he prepared your drink, his mind wandered—as it often did these days—back to you. The way you worked seamlessly alongside him. The way you challenged him without hesitation. The way your presence had become an unshakable fixation in his thoughts, leaving no room for anything else.

It was infuriating. It was intoxicating.

This night was an opportunity. A rare chance to further deepen the dynamic between you two.

By the time he returned to the living room, his expression was composed.

You glanced at him as he handed you the drink. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Despite the circumstances, the night carried on as usual. Research, discussions, debates—it was a cycle you had grown accustomed to. But tonight, something felt… different.

Every now and then, Anaxa’s hand would graze yours when reaching for a paper. His shoulder would brush against you as he leaned over to reference something. A brief touch at your wrist when handing you a pen.

You weren’t sure if it was intentional or simply a consequence of working so closely, but every time it happened, it sent a strange awareness through you.

“I’ll make something to eat.”

The meal was surprisingly good—not extravagant, but warm and filling. You finished quickly, eager to make more progress.

By the time you looked at the clock again, it was terribly late.

Too late to be working, really, but neither of you were the type to leave things unfinished.

It was only when exhaustion started creeping in that Anaxa finally spoke.

“You should sleep.”

“Yeah, I probably should. I’ll just—”

“I’ll take the floor. You can have the bed.”

“That’s unnecessary. It’s your bed.”

“You’re the guest.”

“That’s not—”

“Are we really arguing about this?”

You opened your mouth, then shut it, glaring slightly at the sheer stubbornness in his tone.

In the end, you reluctantly took the bed, if only because you knew Anaxa would not let this go otherwise.

Though the bed was comfortable, sleep didn’t come immediately.

You turned slightly, peeking over the edge to see Anaxa lying on a mattress on the floor. His eyes were still open, faintly illuminated by the dim light in the room.

“We should see the professor tomorrow,” he murmured, “Get their input on our progress.”

“Mm,” you hummed in acknowledgment.

“We’ve gotten further than expected. Not that I doubted it.”

Another hum.

Then silence.

He waited for you to respond again, but when nothing came, he tilted his head slightly—only to find you already fast asleep.

For a long moment, he simply watched.

The even rise and fall of your breathing. The way your features softened in sleep.

This—this was rare.

With one last glance, he closed his eyes.

Tonight, at least, he could rest easy.

----

You should’ve known nothing would go in your favor forever.

When you received the professor’s feedback, the document was marked with more corrections than you anticipated. Whole sections needed restructuring, some data needed refinement, and a few parts—ones you were sure were solid—had to be completely rewritten.

Your fingers tightened around the papers as you skimmed through them again. This wasn’t bad per se—you still had plenty of time to make adjustments—but the sheer volume of work made your mood plummet.

Anaxa, on the other hand, remained unreadable as he flipped through the notes.

“You look like someone just told you the world was ending”

You shot him a glare. “Forgive me for being disappointed that we basically have to rewrite half of our research.”

“We have time. Figuring these out now is better than later.”

You sighed, pressing your fingers against your temple. He wasn’t wrong. You just weren’t in the mood to hear it from him.

Before you could dive back into overanalyzing the feedback, Anaxa leaned back in his seat, regarding you with a slightly tilted head.

“You need a break.”

“What?”

“Let’s go somewhere else. Relax your mind.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “Relax? With someone like you?”

“Why not?”

“You don’t exactly scream ‘relaxation’”

“I’m not a machine, you know.”

Debatable.

But still, as much as you hated to admit it, maybe a distraction wouldn’t be the worst idea. You had been staring at research papers for hours, and your frustration would only make it harder to focus.

“…Fine,” you muttered, standing up. “Where did you have in mind?”

Anaxa smirked. “The park.”

The idea was simple: a quiet walk, fresh air, a moment away from academic stress.

The unfortunate reality?

The sky had other plans.

What started as a slight drizzle quickly turned into a full downpour.

You and Anaxa were still several minutes away from any proper shelter when the rain came crashing down. Neither of you had thought to bring an umbrella, and within moments, you were both completely soaked.

“Great,” you muttered, shaking off excess water from your sleeves. “Just great.”

Anaxa, to his credit, seemed unbothered, running a hand through his now-drenched hair before nodding towards a nearby structure—an old, empty bus stop.

“Come on.”

You didn’t hesitate, dashing under the small roof, though the wind still sent cold droplets clinging to your skin. You shivered slightly, rubbing your arms for warmth.

Anaxa glanced at you, his own clothes dripping, before casually undoing the top buttons of his soaked shirt.

You looked away. “You couldn’t have checked the weather before suggesting this?”

“Oh? Now it’s my fault?”

You huffed, exasperated. “Yes. Absolutely.”

Despite the misfortune, there was something almost ridiculous about the situation. Just you and your rival, stuck in a downpour, drenched to the bone, forced to wait it out together.

“How long do you think this will last?”

Anaxa leaned against the cold metal pole of the bus stop, his eyes glinting in amusement as he smirked.

“I suppose we’ll have to find out.”

The rain didn’t let up for nearly half an hour.

Eventually, when the skies finally cleared, he walked you home.

You were tired, cold, and utterly done with the day—but what you didn’t expect was that this little misadventure would come back to bite you.

You should have known.

Between being drenched in the rain and already being exhausted from research, it was inevitable. By the next morning, you were miserable.

Your body ached, your throat was scratchy, and just lifting your head felt like a monumental effort.

With no choice but to stay in bed, you barely had the energy to process the fact that someone was knocking at your door.

You dragged yourself up, shuffled to the entrance, and opened it—only to see Anaxa standing there, holding a neatly compiled stack of papers.

“…I see you caught it” he mused, stepping inside uninvited.

You groaned. “You—this is your fault.”

“Perhaps. But don’t worry—I’ll take responsibility.”

You weren’t sure what he meant by that until he set down the papers, rolled up his sleeves, and immediately started doing everything in your place.

He cleaned up, cooked a warm meal, fed you, and before you could protest, tucked you into bed like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You wanted to argue. You really did.

But the warmth of the blanket, combined with exhaustion, made it impossible to resist sleep.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, you stirred.

Your fever had gone down slightly, enough for you to shift around without feeling like your limbs weighed a ton. But as you turned, you noticed something… off.

Anaxa was lying next to you.

For a moment, you thought you were imagining things. But no—he was actually there, asleep beside you.

You had no memory of this happening. Did he stay to keep watch? Did he lie down and accidentally fall asleep?

You sat up carefully, intending to move him to a proper bed, but—he was heavy.

Before you could figure out what to do, he stirred.

“…What are you doing?”

“I was going to—uh, move you.”

Anaxa exhaled softly, closing his eyes again. “Too late for that.”

“…Fine.”

Resigned, you gave up and lay back down.

When you woke up, there was no alarm. No rush to get up.

It was a day off.

For once, you had the luxury of sleeping in.

But as you stirred, you realized something far more shocking.

Your head was resting against Anaxa’s chest.

Your mind went blank for a second before you carefully, very carefully, tried to move away.

“…Going somewhere?”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

----

The next week flew by in a blur.

You and Anaxa polished your research, made the necessary revisions, and finally handed it in.

The results came back excellent. High marks. Praise from the professor. A complete success.

This meant one thing: no more group work.

You were relieved. No more Anaxa. No more of his annoyingly efficient work ethic, no more subtle brushes of contact, no more unexpected moments of domestic care.

You were fine with it.

Anaxa, however, was not.

The moment the research project ended, Anaxa felt a strange, suffocating emptiness.

No more long nights of working together. No more excuses to linger at your place. No more seeing your little expressions of focus, frustration, or amusement at his dry remarks.

It was unacceptable.

You might have been fine with moving on, but he wasn’t.

Which meant—he would have to change that.

He needed a reason for you to come back to him. A reason you couldn't ignore.

A few days later, you received an urgent message from a faculty assistant.

The professor wanted to see you.

You went to their office, only to be met with a look of concern.

"I need to speak with you about your research paper" the professor said.

"Is something wrong?"

"There's been an issue. A section of your research was flagged—it seems there's a discrepancy in the data. Anaxa was the one who noticed it and reported it. He suggested reviewing the findings together."

A discrepancy? But that didn’t make sense! You had double-checked everything. Hadn’t you?

"Since you two worked on it together, I’d like you to resolve this matter with him before we take further action," the professor continued. "He's already waiting for you in the library."

With no other choice, you left the office and made your way to the library.

When you arrived, Anaxa was already seated, flipping through your research.

"Finally here?"

You sat down, exhaling sharply. "I heard you found a mistake."

He tilted his head slightly, tapping the paper with his fingers. "It’s subtle, but yes. A slight inconsistency. I figured we should fix it together before the professor takes further action."

You frowned, leaning over to read where he was pointing.

By the time you were finished, there were no remaining "errors" in your research. The professor thanked both of you, and that should have been the end of it.

Except it wasn’t.

If anything, Anaxa had wormed his way deeper into your life.

You started noticing it in class—the way you kept running into him more often than before.

He always sat near you now. Always seemed to already be there whenever you arrived. You just noticed the way he casually pulled out a chair beside him and glanced at you, as if it were already decided you’d sit there. The way he always had an extra copy of the day’s notes, ready in hand before you even asked. The way he spoke about things he shouldn’t know about—little details about your schedule, your habits, things you were sure you hadn’t told him.

It was as if he had memorized your life without you realizing it.

One evening, you were packing up after class when Anaxa leaned against your desk.

"You’re free this weekend, aren’t you?"

"Why?"

"Because," he said smoothly, "we’re going out."

"Since when?"

"Since now," he replied. "I already planned it."

"You didn't even ask if I wanted to."

"You would’ve said no. I’m not giving you a choice," he added, tilting his head slightly. "Not when you spend so much time avoiding me these days."

"I don’t—"

"You do."

"I’ve been generous so far," he murmured. "Letting things happen naturally. But I think I’ve waited long enough."

You weren’t going to agree. That was your initial instinct—to push back, to tell Anaxa you had better things to do.

But he had already anticipated that.

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it sound like a secret only for you.

"Come on," he murmured, "You owe me."

"For what?"

"For catching your mistake in our research. You wouldn’t want an academic scandal, would you?"

"That’s a low move, even for you."

Anaxa just smiled, "Is it?" he said, "Or is it just a reasonable exchange?"

You scowled, but before you could say anything, he continued.

"Besides," he added, "you’ve been stressed lately. I can see it."

"You barely take breaks," he continued, "Always pushing yourself, overworking, barely sleeping. It’s a wonder you haven’t collapsed yet."

"I’m just looking out for you," he murmured. "A little outing won’t kill you."

You hesitated.

Logically, you knew he was playing you. He was twisting the situation to make you feel obligated.

But… was he wrong?

You sighed.

"Fine..."

----

Anaxa left the classroom that day with a sense of satisfaction coiling deep in his chest.

That was too easy.

A little pressure, a well-placed guilt trip, a carefully crafted excuse—and you caved.

You always acted so guarded, so wary. But all he had to do was find the right buttons to push.

And he did.

It was just one step closer.

One step closer to making sure you’d never pull away from him again.

It started with one mistake.

At first, you thought nothing of it—just a lapse in focus, a careless slip. Everyone had bad days. Perhaps you had been tired, overworked, or maybe distracted. It was bound to happen.

But then it happened again.

And again.

Your academic performance began to plummet.

It made no sense. You were always meticulous, always double-checking your work. But now—now your answers weren’t what you remembered writing. Numbers and formulas were off. Essays you swore were polished came back with errors you had no recollection of making.

You frowned at your latest assignment, your hands tightening around the graded paper. A sinking feeling settled in your gut as you stared at the corrections—mistakes that didn’t feel like yours.

This… this wasn’t just random errors.

Something was wrong.

And yet, you couldn’t pinpoint what.

The frustration began to eat away at you, leaving you restless, anxious, and second-guessing yourself.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you placed your assignment on the desk in front of you. Another disappointing grade.

“You’re overthinking again.”

You flinched slightly at the familiar voice.

“I don’t get it,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I checked everything. How did I mess up?”

“Maybe you’re just tired,” he said. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

That had crossed your mind before, but… something still felt off.

“Can you check it for me?”

“Of course”

The more you struggled, the more you needed him.

At first, it was small things—him offering advice, fixing your mistakes, guiding your hand. But over time, it became more than that.

He was always there, always soothing you when frustration built up. Reassuring you when doubt clouded your mind.

"You can’t keep going like this," he murmured one evening, after yet another failed attempt at solving a problem. "Let me take care of it."

It was easier to rely on him.

You didn’t notice at first, but others gradually became distant.

The subtle way he redirected conversations, the way your interactions with classmates grew shorter and less meaningful. Like he had woven an invisible web around you—one that no one else could penetrate.

And by the time you realized it, it was already too late.

One evening, as you sat together reviewing notes, Anaxa spoke casually.

"Everyone else is unnecessary," he said, flipping a page with ease. "Only we matter."

----

One evening, while Anaxa was out, you found his notebook.

At first, you assumed it was just another research journal. But as you flipped through the pages, your blood ran cold.

Every page was about you.

Your schedule, your habits—things he shouldn’t have known.

What time you usually woke up. What days you skipped meals. What places you went to alone.

And then— How long you stared at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Every detail was written in precise, calculated handwriting.

Your hands shook as you clutched the book, realization slamming into you like a tidal wave.

You needed to leave.

Now.

"Going somewhere?"

"I—I need to—"

"You look pale," he interrupted, "Are you feeling unwell?"

"I—I’m fine...I just…"

Before you could finish, a sharp prick bloomed against your skin.

"You’re just exhausted. You need rest."

When you woke up, the notebook was gone.

Anaxa sat beside you, his expression calm, almost concerned.

"You were having a nightmare" he murmured, brushing a hand over your forehead.

"You were muttering in your sleep," he continued, "Tossing and turning. It must have been… unsettling."

The notebook. The pages. The proof—

But there was nothing.

"Don’t worry" Anaxa whispered, "It was just a dream."

That’s all it was.

[witless-winion1]

My thoughts on the paralyzed!Polites AU

(Which I really should do more research on; inspired by this)

Odysseus cries when Polites first wakes up

Eurylochus almost cries. Instead just let’s out a very shaky, relieved sigh and tells his friend “I’m glad you’re back”

his vision is messed with in that classic “Eye for an eye” vibe

His left arm is broken and yet he still insists on greeting the world with open arms

“Don’t you mean open arm?”

“You hush, Perimedes.”

So much survivor’s guilt but he’s very thankful to be alive and honors his fallen friends with Ody and everyone else

He basically can’t walk without help

Odysseus carves him a cane himself

It has a bunch of super cool details, including a winion

Polites adores it

(perhaps they go back to the Lotus Eater island and kidnap a winion for Polites? Like a comfort animal. Give Polites, my Disney Princess Pancake, a familiar plz)

But Polites needs a lot of help with things that require both arms or both legs or gods forbid all four

one dumbass numbnuts comments “would’ve been kinder to let him die” under his breath after Polites wakes up

Captain nearly throws him overboard

obviously

“My best friend would be delighted to live life in whatever form it came to him! You shut your fucking mouth and if I ever hear you say such wretched nonsense again I’m going to put you on latrine duty for a month, am I understood?”

Eurylochus has to hold him back during this

Eurylochus also immediately assumes position of bodyguard of Polites.

He and Odysseus soon begin fighting over this job

they decide to share custody

(eventually)

OPEN ARMS REPRISES BUT HES ACTUALLY ALIVE!!!!

plot? Oh yeah plot

lmao what plot

after the Cyclopes passes out Ody is too busy making sure his friend is okay (which he is not). He gets somebody to check the other smashees and then stays by Poli’s side (no, he don’t give a shit that he’s captain, you guys go stab his eye, he’s asleep it’s not that fucking hard)

Odysseus carries Polites when the Cyclopes wakes up

he’s too busy thinking about getting him back to the ship and calling the best doctors from the 12 ships so he tells everyone to grab the sheep and HUSTLE

Athena grabs him and starts with her “HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE LESSONS I TAUGHT YOU? HE’S STILL A THRE-”

“ATHENA IM BUSY RN WE CAN TALK LATER”

“BUT HE’S STILL ALIVE-”

“WE’RE FUCKING LEAVING BRO! HE’S NOT GONNA SWIM AFTER US!”

they’re not on best terms for a while after that but they still reconcile after

then they get home! Whoop de do, congrant, 99.7777777778% of the canon plot avoided

when they get home and our sunshine is actually properly long-term treated, Odysseus and Telemachus’s first big father-son bonding project is to make Polites’ house more accessible for him

and Telemachus fucking loves Polites. Best Uncle Award. They vibe so hard that Odysseus cries

he almost cries when Penelope starts weaving clothes that are easier for his friend to wear. He’s a tiinnyyy bit jealous but he’s still so happy. And Penelope noticed and weaves her dear husband some clothes too, all his old ones are stinky asf

Eurylochus and all Poli’s friends from the ship still visit regularly. It’s just a big happy family

and nobody dies, not even Nobody

(except for those other guys from the Cyclopes cave but this ain’t about them)

Edit: Polites’ job when he gets back is a shepherd (thanks @wukyma for the idea, and the art they make of shepherd Polites is ADORABLE go check it out). He loves the fluffy lil clouds and their adorable sounds, even though sometimes his old wounds tingle on bad days around them. He tries not to remember that.

he likes just relaxing in the field with them, and sometimes Odysseus and Telemachus come hang on and they all just sit and talk and tell stories

[sheerfreesia007]

Talk Nerdy To Me

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Word count: 3,512

Content warnings: Fluff, verbal fighting, almost physical fighting

Summary: Minho’s the super sharp and intelligent assistant to your father at your family’s company that you’ve always been drawn to. You’ve always tried to keep it professional between the two, but one night at a party that you attend in your father’s stead you finally hit your limit of being a professional with Minho.

A/N: Divider was created by @bernardsbendystraws, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

You sit in one of the many chairs around the long conference table on the department floor that you’re a manager over while staring out the large floor to ceiling windows in the conference room. This morning is your weekly supervisor meeting with all of the department supervisors that you’re in charge of and you’re trying to stay awake while updating your notes on your tablet. Last night you had gone over the two new contracts that your department had been able to secure for the company, it had taken you many hours to finally get through each contract and you hadn’t gotten much sleep. Raising your hand you quickly hide a large yawn behind your hand while a few of your supervisors snickering and chuckle softly at you.

“Late night?” asked one of the supervisors with a sly grin on her face and you roll your eyes at her implication before huffing softly.

“Yeah, two contracts needed to be reviewed last night before this meeting.” you told her and she grimaced at your words.

“You always work so hard. Why don’t you act like any of the other department managers where they make the supervisors do all the work?” asked one of the male supervisors which caused a few of them to hush him quickly which made you laugh.

“Because they don’t really have anything to prove.” you say sarcastically and he tilted his head to the side at your words. “All the other managers are just that, managers. But this is my family’s company and I intend to inherit it after my father finally retires. Or when my mother finally forces him to retire.” you say causing the table to chuckle softly as they all nod their heads. “Plus I’ve worked my way up from an entry level position to manager in the last ten years. I’m used to working hard for what I want and I’m not going to stop now just because I’m in a manager position and the daughter of the company owner.” you say confidently as some of the supervisors nod their heads with nostalgic looks on their faces.

“I remember when you were just starting as the front desk clerk.” One of them mentions and a few others begin to coo softly while nodding their heads.

“You were so young and cute. It always brightened my day when you greeted me when I came into work.” someone else chimed in and you grinned as you nodded your head at them.

“Anyway let’s start talking about the two contracts I went over last night. They’re going to be two large projects that we will have to split the whole floor into two teams to handle them both.” you began to explain to them all as you stood from your chair to talk in front of the whole room.

When the meeting was finally over and all the details for the two new projects were mapped out you hung back in the conference room to talk to some of the supervisors who hadn’t been able to speak up during the meeting. You stood with them at the front of the conference room listening to their concerns with a contract that was finishing up and the two new contracts that were coming up. They were worried about how it would stretch the employees and tax them as they worked from one contract to the next without much of a break in between.

“Can we schedule vacation time for the employees who finish on the current contracts earlier and then once the new contracts start up the employees who were still working get to take vacation at that time? That way we aren’t completely without personnel to work on the contracts?” you ask as you begin brainstorming with the supervisors.

“That could work but right now both of our units are still all working on the contract.” said one of the supervisors.

“And the other units have already finished?” you asked curiously and they both nodded their heads. “Then starting next week I’ll have the other units schedule vacation time for their employees. I’ll request aide from another floor to use their advisory team to come in and double check the work that’s already done so that your units won’t have to worry about that. And once the units start coming back from their vacations we’ll schedule your units for vacation time.” you explain to them. “If that doesn’t work we can always outsource the last bit of work so that our personnel aren’t burnt out. I don’t want that to happen. But I need you to keep me updated as much as possible so that if I need to outsource the work I can make it happen quickly.” you advise them firmly and they both quickly nod their heads at you.

“Thank you. This will take a lot of load off our employees.” one of them said and you smiled while nodding your head.

“Of course, if there’s a way for me to make it less of a burden for the employees while still getting the work done I’ll make sure it happens.” you tell them. Just then there’s the soft sound of someone clearing their throat and your eyes dart over to the man standing in the conference room doorway. He’s tall and slender while impeccably dressed in a charcoal gray suit and white button up shirt with a crimson tie. His hair is styled perfectly to accentuate his sharp almost austere face while a pair of large black rimmed glasses sit on his face.

“Minho.” you greet him warmly as you smile and nod your head at him. The supervisors both smile at each other before excusing themselves from the room quickly. You frown softly as you notice their wandering eyes staying trained on you and Minho as he steps closer to you and further into the room.

“Your father would like to have a lunch meeting with you today. Are you free?” he informs you before asking softly as he comes to stand in front of you, his pretty dark colored eyes are slightly magnified behind the lenses of his glasses and you find yourself getting lost in them for a moment before you pull back mentally.

“Of course I’m free. Are you joining us?” you ask knowingly and he smirks at you before rolling his eyes playfully at you.

“Of course I’m joining you. You know your father can’t go a day without having me at his side.” Minho says teasingly and you laugh brightly at his words as you nod your head. 

“He’d lose his head if it weren’t for you.” you tell him appreciatively as you smile up at him. “Let me just grab my jacket and purse and we can go.” you tell him and he nods his head at you before gesturing for you to lead the way. 

Minho had been your father’s assistant for the last six years and ever since he had been hired he had managed to completely turn your father’s work life and home life balance around. He was not only very intelligent and proactive in his work but he was damn good at his job. Minho was the ultimate package as an assistant, he was quick and able to stay a few steps ahead of anything that happened during your father’s day. He was also keen on being discreet in everything that he did and the way he was able to manage a room with an almost iron fist was so impressive to you.

When you had met Minho for the first time you had been a mid level employee and on the fast track for supervisor. You had extended your help to him when he first started and while he didn’t normally take you up on that offer much when he did come to for help it always seemed to bring the two of you closer together. You both had become fast close friends and there was often talk around the office about your relationship, which you knew would most likely happen but you had tried to keep it under wraps so as not to cause any undue attention to the both of you. 

You knew you were attracted to Minho ever since meeting him for the first time but because you both worked in your family’s company and the fact that you would eventually be inheriting the company you had pushed your feelings to the side. You didn’t want to mix pleasure with business and you would be damned if anyone had something to say about you because of who you found attractive. But it had been much harder than you had thought it would be to keep this professional with Minho. He was just a magnetizing person and he always brought a teasing side of you that not many people were privy to. It was intoxicating how much your relationship with Minho messed with your emotions and feelings for him and while you knew you should stop it, that was just something you couldn’t see yourself doing yet. You were playing with fire and while you were careful you knew eventually that you would get burned, you just hoped it wouldn’t be too bad of a burn.

“I need you to attend a party as a representative for the company.” your father said, sounding slightly chastised as the clinking of silverware filled the high end restaurant. You sat at a small round table with your father and Minho eating lunch while discussing things about the company. “Your mother has booked us a spa getaway this weekend before we leave for our cruise. And she refuses to let me attend this party. She keeps saying that the party will just stress me out and take all the hard work of the spa staff to relax me.” he says dejectedly and you burst out in bright happy laughter as you nod your head at his words.

“Yeah, that sounds like Mom.” you say while chuckling as your eyes knowingly dart over to Minho who’s smirking softly at you with sparkling eyes. You both knew how much your mother was adamant that your father should slow down and retire soon, it was a daily conversation that they had no matter how much your father tried to push back. “I’ll be more than happy to go in your stead.” you told him as you cut into your chicken. Minho slid his plate over towards you and your eyes darted quickly over to it before grinning widely as you spotted the onions in his dish piled up in a small heap at the edge of his dish. You moved quickly and gathered his onions before moving them onto your plate as his top lip curled slightly in distaste.

“Good, you’ll be going with Minho as your date.” your father said jovially as he laughed at the little display of the two of you sharing food.

“What?!” you asked surprised as your head whipped up to stare at your father. He was grinning at you while leaning his chin in his hand as his elbow rested on the table his eyes sparkling delightedly at your response.

“Mmhmm, Minho will be your date. The party is this Saturday night and it’s so short notice that you won’t be able to keep track of who’s who at the party so he’ll be attending to make sure you know who you’re talking to and who you shouldn’t talk to. He does it for me all the time.” your father explains while waving his hand dismissively. “Plus the two of you always look so good together whenever you both attend a party.” your father adds with a cheeky grin.

You sit there blinking at your father for a few moments. At first his explanation of having Minho there to let you know who was in attendance was fine with you but that last comment made a blush to begin creeping up the back of your neck. Your eyes worriedly darted over to Minho but he was busily cutting into his dish but when you felt your stare he looked and smiled softly trying to reassure you that it’d be fine. You nodded silently before turning back to your father who was watching the both of you in awed silence with a happy glow on his face.

The evening of the party is filled with glamorous gowns and suits, expensive champagne and alcohol, michelin star food and a live band that plays in the corner of the venue. You’re walking along the edge of the room with your arm looped through Minho’s and he leans down towards your ear so that he could be heard over the din of everyone at the party. You’re grateful that he’s at your side because your father wasn’t joking that there would be a lot of people here at the party to talk to and that you wouldn’t have be able to keep up with all of it on your own.

“This is Mr. Goo and his wife, he’s an old business associate who works with the company on the music side.” Minho whispers in your ear and you curb the shiver that wants to race up and down your spine as you nod your head imperceptibly at him before you’re turning to Mr. Goo with a happy smile on your face.

”Mr. Goo, Mrs. Goo; it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You greet the two of them and they both nod their heads at you in greeting. Mr. Goo launches into talk about the contracts that your family’s company has with his company while Mrs. Goo sidles up to Minho’s side with a soft pleasant smile on her face. You try not to pay attention to Mrs. Goo and Minho but suddenly Minho is gently touching your elbow as he leans down towards your ear.

”Mrs. Goo wants to talk to me about scheduling a meeting with your father. I’ll be right back.” He says softly into your ear and you nod your head in response before looking up at him silently. You watch as Minho walks away with an eager Mrs. Goo before you turn back to Mr. Goo to continue your conversation which he is more than happy to do.

”Do you remember the first time we met?” Mr. Goo asks you and you beam up at him happily while nodding your head.

”Of course, it was when my father had first started the company.” You tell him happily. “He had brought me along with him as he walked up and down Main Street in the music district of the city. “Your music store was the second one we visited and you let me play with some of the instruments as you held them. My favorite was the drums though, I really loved when you let me bang the drumsticks on the drum set.” You admitted to him and he chuckled softly at your answer while nodding his head.

”Those were good times.” He said softly.

”What were good times Mr. Goo?” Came a rather loud obnoxious voice that pulled your attention away from Mr. Goo who frowned at the newcomer. There stood a smug young man probably a year or two older than you dressed in a simple gray suit with a dusty rose button up shirt. His smug smirk irks you as his eyes dart up and down your body as he leans in towards you causing you to glare at him darkly while straightening your spine. The man looks at you surprised for a moment before his eye lids fell to half mast and his smirk widened on his face. “And who do we have here? The next Mrs. Goo?” Asked the man lecherously as he leaned closer towards you and you bristled at his words.

”Don’t insult Mr. Goo or Mrs. Goo.” You hissed at him quietly as your eyes sparked with anger.

”And what’s it to you sweetheart?” Asks the man as his eyes linger on the neckline of your dress. “You’re just another vapid hanger on who wants a piece of a man’s business.” He sneers at you and you feel rage fill you consuming you whole as you open your mouth to snap back at him. 

But as you open your mouth and begin to respond someone dressed in navy blue suit shifts in front of you effectively cutting off your view of the nasty smug prick and getting in between the two of you. Your head whips up to stare at the back of Minho’s head and you feel your rage start to dissipate. 

“You should mind your manners when speaking to a future owner of Levanter Incorporated.” Minho says calmly in a low tone that holds an edge that raises the hairs on the back of your neck. “Not only is she the future owner of the company but she also had worked her way up from the bottom in the company just so she could understand the company from the inside out.” Minho says stoically and you can see the man blanch at his words. “You better think about the next words to leave your mouth because if you think for a second I’m going to let you insult her intelligence and get away with you have another thing coming for you. Namely my fists.” Minho says in a tone that lowers causing everyone to listen in.

You stand there shocked and surprised at how effortlessly Minho had stepped in and shut down the man’s rude behavior. Your hand comes up to rest gently against Minho’s back and he turns his head to look over his shoulder at you for a silent moment.

”He’s not worth it.” You tell him softly and he nods his head in agreement before he turns to you and guides you out of the party to an empty balcony. You move to lean against the railing of the balcony taking in a deep breath before slowly blowing it out. 

“I’m sorry that I reacted so ugly around you.” Minho said softly and you turned to look at him with a bewildered look on your face. “I never should’ve left your side so that he could have the chance to insult you like that. I saw red when I heard him call you a vapid hanger on. I nearly swung at him. I was so angry.” Minho began to explain and you quickly shook your head as you stepped closer to him raising your hands to grip his biceps firmly as your eyes connected with his.

”Minho, you stood up for me against an insecure bully of a pathetic man. Never apologize for that. I didn’t need air because of what you said, I was outrageously mad about him calling me stupid that I was ready to rip him to shreds.” You admitted to him and you huffed softly before smiling softly at him. “You kind of stole my shot at standing up for myself.” You tease him gently and he frowns at you softly. “But I do gotta admit it was kind of hot watching you eviscerate him.” You tell him honestly with a soft smirk on your face as your eyes rake up and down his navy blue suit covered body with the white button shirt and his dark framed glasses. Minho smirks down at you as he steps closer to you with his dark brown eyes sparkling teasingly behind his glasses.

”You’re only attracted to me because of my body and looks.” He says teasingly but you raise a hand to press it into his chest as you shake your head at him.

”No, I’ve been attracted to you for quite a long time Minho. Dare I say since you started with the company.” You confess softly and he stares at you in silent shock as his eyes widen slowly at your words. “At first it was your intelligence, your quick wit, that sharp mind of yours in damn sexy.” You say sultrily as you lean in towards him. “Your fit lean body is just an added bonus.” You tell him before winking as a smirk slips onto your face. You watch as his eyes change from sparkling to something heated that makes a pit to form in the bottom of your stomach.

”Want me to talk nerdy to you?” He asks sultrily and you grin wickedly at him as his own smirk matches your grin. You grip the lapel of his suit and pull him close as his smirk widens on his face as his eyes zero in on your lips.

”Maybe after you take me out to dinner first.” You tell him softly as you lean in close to him teasingly before you release him and side step him to start walking to the doors leading back inside. After a moment you hear his hurried footsteps following you and you smirk softly as you silently thank your father for giving you this opportunity with Minho.

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek, @kaiyaba

@bookswillfindyouaway

[diremoone]

“make me (yours).” | r. sukuna

w — [ minors do not interact ] modern! AU, hints of sugar daddy vibes ;), older man/younger woman, age gap, everyone is above 20+ and legal age, male masturbation, Sukuna imagining seggs positions and shit like that, Sukuna is around 36 & Reader is around 22/23, tbh sukuna being a comfort character rn. jjk after 235? it’s non-canon lmao

a/n: this is the most I’ve ever written that’s sinful I’m not used to this (it’s been so damn long since i have written anything remotely sinful omfg) and it’s not even that much I’m so embarrassed y’all HELP— also part two depends on you guys and any ideas you want to send in through my ask box :3

part one | part two

[ first divider by @/benkeibear, the second by @/cafekitsune ]

♥️ Rich! Sukuna who meets you through his younger brother, who’s a few years older than you. You’ve been in Japan for a few years now, that much he knows, attending the same school his little brother got into. And now he’s determined to find out everything about you.

♥️ Rich! Sukuna who’s so fucking glad you can speak Japanese. He knows English, yes, but he prefers it when you speak his native tongue, because he fucking loves your accent and gets off on it. It’s exotic — you’re exotic — and he can’t help the temptation of wanting you and more.

♥️ Rich! Sukuna who knows to keep his smug smirk into himself when his little brother finally mans up and finally introduces you to him one day when he comes home to work on a project that you’re helping him with. And he knows that Yuuji knows about the look on his face. Because he knows his history with women. Yuuji knows he’s made a mistake introducing you to each other.

Or so he thinks.

Sukuna is thoroughly amused by you, although there are times where he becomes frustrated. You’re not an easy case to crack, and not easy to tease and rile up. Perhaps that’s the part of you that’s from accelerated maturity.

You’re smarter than the average person, even the people slightly above average. You’re intellectually and psychologically challenging and he very much likes it. It’s been a long time since he’s had the kind of stimulation you’ve brought him. Since his and Yuuji’s father passed away.

He watches from a distance as you and his brother go over notes and work and crack jokes that put a pretty smile on your face. He can’t hear your laughter from where he stands, but he’s positive it’s as lovely as your smile.

As for you, you know you’re being watched. You look to the tall man out of your peripheral vision and halt rolling your eyes.

“Your brother is never subtle, is he?”

Yuuji sighs heavily. “Never.”

♥️ Rich! Sukuna who hates the fact he can’t see you more often. So he digs and digs and then finds out about some old family debts and a couple things for medical expenses he can easily pay off to hold over your head, to use as a means to be something akin to a sugar daddy so he can order you around and see you whenever he wants to.

And it comes as no surprise to him when he mentions it the next time his brother brings you over for schoolwork that you’re startled by him finding out. He only mentions it after Yuuji has fallen asleep on the couch. You give him the wide-eyed expression of shock, probably wondering how he found out about it.

But unlike his expectations, you don’t ask how he knows. you don’t get embarrassed and try to hush it away with the option of using yourself as his favor. You shrug, going a little more into depth and detail about the financial struggle that’s been kept under wraps for several good years.

Sukuna himself is surprised in return, by both you and the way he sits down for you — to listen to you.

♥️ Rich! Sukuna, who finds out that even though you see him as super attractive, you’re not as swayed by his flirting and all of his advances like many women and young women your age are. Yes, you know he’s super fucking stupidly hot, and yes you’ve more than likely thought about certain things while in bed under the sheets, but you’ve got more important things to prioritize than hot men. Which he applauds you for just as much as he despises it. It makes him frustrated, because he’s attracted to you and wants you in his bed so bad; because it should be so fucking easy like it has been with other women. But you’re not the same, and while his lust is as prominent as ever in his older age, he also has the desire for something more than just a fling.

♥️ Rich! Sukuna who manages to get ahold of your schedule through his baby brother (who’s prepping for your broken heart) and asks you out, setting up a date for when he knows you’re free. He much enjoys the look on your face when he brings up the date he’s set, knowing you’re wondering about how he managed to nail the exact day you’re free for the day he’s set for the outing. He enjoys it even further when you quickly deduce how he knows about it.

Goddamn, he loves a sharp woman.

♥️ Rich! Sukuna, who orders you a dress to be made that’s a mix of beautiful deep crimson and black, one that shines but doesn’t shine too much to glare at people eyes. He drums his fingers against his desk in his home office as he sees the notification pop up on his phone that the item has been delivered.

But as usual, you surprise him. You don’t end up wearing the dress he’s made, but something completely different. You arrive to the restaurant he’s bought out for the night in a deep silver-gray tux, hair styled in a simple manner with minimal makeup that he knows you don’t need because he’s already seen and fallen for your natural looks anyway.

Sukuna hates you. He doesn’t, but he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with the feelings he has. You’re so much younger than him, but holy fuck has it been so long since he’s been given any sort of challenge or stimuli, especially from a woman. He both hates and is glad you’re not easy. And it only fuels his drive to get you to give yourself to him.

You drive him up a damn wall.

He’s been in the shower for at least forty minutes, alternating between hot and cold every five minutes. Forty minutes and the painful hard on he’s had all morning still hasn’t gone away.

Sukuna leans his head forward against the wall and cusses at himself. His hand isn’t enough, but there’s some relief as he starts leisurely pumping his shaft. He cusses and swears worse than a sailor as he starts off slow, imagination running wild (at what could be).

He wants you so fucking bad. He wants you on your knees in front of him; on the soft carpet because no way is he going to let his pretty woman have sore knees while taking his monstrous dick down her throat.

He wants to bury his face between your legs and make you cum so much and so hard you see fucking galaxies, then let you catch your breath just barely enough before he uses your juices as lubricant and permanently molds your pussy to the shape of his fat cock.

He wants your legs over his shoulders as you throw your head back and moan as he fucks your better than anyone ever has and ever will. He wants to see a white ring around his cock as he pumps himself in and out of you like he’s a starved man. And that he is. For you, anyway.

Sukuna just knows your pussy is so fucking warm. He’ll bet his dick that you’ll have the tightest pussy he’s ever going to have. The best he’s ever going to have.

His hand pumps his shaft faster and faster, gripping it harder as he nears climax. His massive cock aches painfully, desperate to cum. Fucking hell… He wants you so bad, underneath him, or on your knees, calling him by whatever pet name or name from whatever kink you might have.

Forbid everything if you call him ‘Daddy’ or ‘Master’. Game fucking over.

He doesn’t even care if you have those kinds kinks or not. He just wants the pretty girl that’s done more than caught his attention under him as he makes her feel pleasure that only he can provide.

But the selfish part of him can’t help but hear you call out those names in his head. And that’s what does it.

Sukuna’s thighs and back muscles flex almost painfully as his balls draw up and cums. He tosses his head back, the feeling of his load spurting from the tip making him groan in pleasure. He cums so hard he feels like he’s about to keel over.

“Fuck yeah…” he pants, oxygen finally catching up to his lungs’ need.

But now he’s disappointed and just a little pissed off. Because the cum on the wall shouldn’t be there. It should be on or in you. And he doesn’t like that.

And as he rewashes himself, his jaw clenches, can’t help but thinking determinedly he’s going to change things between the two of you.

Come hell or high fucking water.

♥️ Rich! Sukuna who’s finally shifted the relationship to being something else. Although you can’t tell what it is. The first date he takes you on is to break the ice, getting to know you better as a person. It’s also to see if you’d fuck him, but he knows you’ve got stronger convictions than the women he’s used to.

He takes you on a second date, this time in more casual clothes on a drive to a house he’s set up to have dinner and stargaze at.

He gets to tell you he’s paid off your family’s old debts now, relieved them of the medical bills and taxes that haven’t been paid yet. But it backfires, and now he’s left to make you understand that it wasn’t to make you feel beholden to him in any manner, like owing debt to the mafia.

♥️ Rich! Sukuna needs you to understand that despite how much he wants to fuck you, it’s more than just because he finds you attractive and wants to satisfy his dick. He wants you to know you’re not temporary; he doesn’t see you as a quick fix to his primal needs.

Not at all.

You’re the long term fix to his primal needs. And perhaps the only one he’s going to need ever again. And once the expression of understanding crosses your face, he goes to cradle the back of your head and hungrily slots his lips on yours. He may not get to take all your clothes off right now, but he’s happy with his results tonight.

Besides, he knows he’ll get you into his bed with a shiny diamond ring on your left hand eventually.

wheeeew im gonna go take a cold bath

@vagabond-umlaut here’s ur man babe pls enjoy.

& everyone pls feel free to send in more ideas for this series if you want im having fun with this lmao

[thatlotuscookie]

ok ok, hear me out, hear me out I swear-

a Haikyuu character who's a teacher(you pick which one bc I am indecisive lol) who students don't like because they assign too much HW, x Art-Teacher y/n who's super eccentric and all the students have started calling "Auntie" bc they like her so much... and somehow the students realize they're dating

✧･ﾟ: a/n: hiii thank you for the req anon! i choseTsukishima Kei x art teacher!fem reader cause why not :) sorry for the wait, it got a little busy. please enjoy and thank you for requestinng <3

✧ Title: ✧ Paintbrushes and Equations ✧ ✧ Characters: Math!TeacherTsukishima Kei x Art Teacher!Reader, Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life ✧ Rating: G ✧ Summary: Mr. Tsukishima Kei, the strict math teacher known for his tough assignments, and Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher adored by students, try to keep their budding relationship under wraps. But between secret coffee runs and after-school visits, it doesn’t take long for their students to catch on. ✧ Content/Tags: Secret Relationship, Soft Tsukishima, Teacher AU, Slow-burn Romance, Fluff and Humor ✧ WC: 1126 words // 6.8k chars

Mr. Tsukishima Kei was known as the strict, no-nonsense math teacher, infamous for assigning challenging homework and expecting punctuality from his students. Across the hall, however, was Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher who taught in a classroom full of painted murals, plants, and knick-knacks. Her students affectionately called her “Auntie,” loving her warm personality and encouraging nature.

Despite their differences, the two had quietly been dating for some time now, keeping things subtle so as not to spark gossip in the school hallways. But as careful as they tried to be, some moments were just too sweet to hide from their observant students.

Every morning, Tsukishima would stop by Y/N’s room before classes started. Though their relationship was mostly kept under wraps, there was one routine they couldn’t help but share—he’d bring her coffee, just the way she liked it, and stay for a few moments before his first class.

One particular morning, a student passing by happened to catch sight of them. Y/N was sitting at her desk, fiddling with paintbrushes while Tsukishima leaned against the edge of her desk, coffee cup in hand. She looked up at him with a bright smile as he handed her the coffee.

“Thank you, Kei! You know, I think your coffee runs are the best part of my day.”

“Maybe if you went to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t need this much caffeine,” he replied, rolling his eyes, though there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Bedtime? Reasonable? You’re talking to an artist, Kei!” She chuckled, raising her coffee cup in mock cheers.

The student who’d witnessed it ran back to their friends, spilling the details in hushed, excited whispers. “Guys, Auntie totally has Mr. Tsukishima wrapped around her finger. He’s bringing her coffee like it’s a daily thing!”

During lunch breaks, Tsukishima would sometimes slip away from the teachers’ lounge and make his way to Y/N’s art room, which was usually open to students who wanted to work on projects or just hang out with their favorite teacher. Though he’d never admit it out loud, Tsukishima was growing fond of this habit too.

One afternoon, Y/N was holding a brush in each hand, struggling to finish a mural one of her classes had started. Tsukishima approached, watching her for a moment as she fumbled with paint colors.

“Need a hand?” he asked, taking one of the brushes out of her grasp without waiting for an answer. He began painting in neat, deliberate strokes, adding to the vibrant, playful mural.

“Mr. Tsukishima,” Y/N grinned, “are you sure you can handle all this color?”

He just shrugged, pretending to be annoyed, but there was a glint in his eye. “It’s not my fault you’re terrible at ladders.”

The students present watched with wide eyes as their usually stern math teacher helped their beloved art teacher, even taking her playful teasing without so much as a sigh. “Is he… actually smiling?” one student whispered, amazed. “And helping her paint? They’re definitely dating.”

On Fridays, Y/N would stay late to finish up art projects, often leaving well after most of the other teachers had already gone home. But one evening, as she was cleaning up her brushes, she was startled by a familiar voice at the door.

“Didn’t I tell you not to stay this late alone?” Tsukishima’s tone was gentle, though there was a hint of concern.

“Oh, but I had just one more layer of glaze to apply! I didn’t want to leave it unfinished,” she replied, smiling sheepishly.

Tsukishima sighed and moved to take some of the supplies from her hands, setting them aside. “That can wait. You shouldn’t be here by yourself. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

They left together, but not before another student, leaving basketball practice, caught sight of them walking side by side down the hallway, Tsukishima’s hand brushing hers in a quiet, comforting gesture.

“Did you see that?” the student whispered to a friend the next day. “Mr. Tsukishima totally waited for Auntie after school. He’s such a softie for her.”

When Field Day rolled around, Y/N was the designated supervisor for the art activities station. Her students flocked to her booth, excited to paint, tie-dye, and get a break from competitive games. Tsukishima, though not usually one for field activities, had somehow found himself “volunteered” to help out at her station by none other than Y/N herself.

At first, he’d tried to stay in the background, sorting supplies and ensuring everything was organized. But as more students lined up, Y/N pulled him over to assist with face painting. “Come on, Kei, it’s fun! Don’t be so serious,” she teased, handing him a paintbrush.

He gave her a long-suffering look but, after a few convincing nudges, gave in. Soon, students were giggling at the sight of Mr. Tsukishima painting bright flowers and animals on their cheeks.

“Mr. Tsukishima, can you paint a dragon?” one student asked, grinning. And to everyone’s surprise, Tsukishima nodded, actually putting in the effort to paint a rather impressive dragon.

Meanwhile, Y/N leaned in close, watching him with a proud smile. “See? I knew you had a colorful side.”

The students at the booth exchanged knowing looks, watching the way Tsukishima’s gaze softened every time he looked at Y/N. One bold student whispered, “They’re definitely together. I think Auntie’s the only person who could get him to paint a dragon.”

The biggest reveal came on Y/N’s birthday. Her classroom was decorated with student-made banners, handmade cards, and small, thoughtful gifts from her students. But the real surprise came when Tsukishima walked in with a bouquet of wildflowers, which he set on her desk, much to the shock of her students.

“Kei…” Y/N murmured, her eyes shining with surprise. “You didn’t have to—”

“Happy Birthday, Auntie,” he said simply, giving her a small, genuine smile before glancing pointedly at the students, who were watching, open-mouthed. He gave them his usual glare but, seeing the excitement in their eyes, eventually gave up on hiding it.

And with that, the students finally had their confirmation. They all whispered to each other excitedly, some even daring to give Tsukishima approving thumbs-up. From that day on, Tsukishima’s “monster math teacher” title softened in their eyes. He was still strict and demanding, but he was also the teacher who went out of his way to make their “Auntie” happy.

As the weeks went by, more little moments started to unfold between them—moments the students watched eagerly, as if they were witnessing a real-life romance. And while Tsukishima might not have been the most affectionate in public, he showed his care in small, steady ways, making sure Y/N was looked after and supported in the little things.

[yua0ra]

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝟏:

🐇 Based off this super sweet anon request!

AN: Because I didn't know how long you wanted it, I just wrote a small dribble of how would I imagine this happening lol. Hope you love it! Also trying this new writing style...

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 > requests are open! “come again? button!”

Hogwarts happened, and so did Mattheo Riddle.

You weren’t supposed to stay long. A transfer student with a tragic smile and a sharp tongue, newly arrived from Durmstrang with stories folded into your spine like paper cranes—no one quite knew what brought you here, only that you were smart, and secretive, and too tired to pretend you didn’t notice the way people watched you.

They sorted you into Slytherin like it was a dare.

The common room breathed around you like a sleeping serpent: green flames, velvet shadows, the soft hush of gossip spoken in half-truths. You didn’t flinch when people stared. You didn’t smile unless you meant it.

And maybe that’s what Pansy Parkinson liked about you. You weren’t loud. You weren’t sweet. You were precise. Funny in a cutting way. The kind of girl who could gut someone with a sentence and still make it sound like poetry.

You became her favorite project.

By extension, you became part of them—her orbit of Slytherin boys, all leather-bound egos and lazy cruelty, sharp-eyed and silver-tongued. Draco, Theo, Blaise.

And then there was Mattheo.

He was the kind of boy your mother warned you about, not because he was dangerous—though he was—but because he didn’t try to be.

He just was.

He walked like the world owed him something and talked like it never gave him enough. Mattheo had a voice that could melt glass and a laugh that made you forget what you were saying mid-sentence. His eyes were too dark, too deep, like they’d swallowed things boys his age weren’t meant to witness.

But what scared you most wasn’t his reputation, or his lineage, or the shadow of his father's name.

It was how quietly he became yours.

It started with a glance that lasted too long. Then a sentence that sounded more like a secret. And then one night, by the Black Lake, when everything shifted.

The others had left—drunken laughter echoing down toward the castle—but Mattheo stayed. You were sitting on the grass, arms looped around your knees, watching the moon ripple in the water like it was trying to remember itself.

He dropped beside you without a word. Close, but not close enough.

“You always this good at being alone?” he asked, voice like smoke.

You didn’t look at him. “Are you always this bad at pretending you don’t want company?”

He laughed, low and real. It made something in you tilt.

He didn’t touch you. Not then. He just sat in the silence you made sacred, letting the world breathe between you.

But something began that night. Something slow and spectral and soft. Like a storm rolling in from somewhere distant, where the sky is still blue but the air already knows how it will end.

You weren’t best friends. You didn’t braid each other’s trauma or fall asleep on each other’s shoulders in the library. It wasn’t like that.

It was more… magnetic. A gravity between atoms. A chemical pull.

He started seeking you out. Not publicly, never performative. But in stolen spaces—the alcove behind the greenhouse, the back row of Defense, the corridors that didn’t echo. He’d press a shoulder to yours, hand you a stolen chocolate frog, ask what you were thinking like he could handle the answer.

“I don’t know what you are,” he said once, voice tired. “But I want to keep finding out.”

You didn’t respond. Just leaned your head back against the stone wall and closed your eyes, pretending the way your heart leapt didn’t mean anything.

But of course it did.

The thing about Mattheo was that he never touched you unless he meant it.

So the first time he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your whole body went still like it had been struck.

The first time he called you trouble, it felt like a confession.

And the first time he kissed you—God, it wasn’t even soft. It was desperate. Like he was trying to swallow the words he didn’t know how to say, like if he kissed you hard enough it would keep you from leaving.

You didn’t leave.

You let him kiss you like that. Let him press his hands to your jaw like you were a fragile thing he didn’t know how to hold. You let him breathe you in like he hadn’t been breathing at all.

But summer came. And so did silence.

He disappeared like smoke—left without warning, without a letter, without a trace.

And maybe it wasn’t personal. Maybe it was something else. Family. Fear. The kind of darkness you weren’t meant to see yet.

But that didn’t stop it from hurting.

You tried not to think about him. Failed, mostly.

Because love with Mattheo Riddle had been like holding a blade to your chest and asking it to remember how to be soft.

And he—he had needed you. Once.

With his friends scattered across the continent in summer homes and high towers, and the weight of his father’s name coiled like a noose around his throat, Mattheo had needed something to stitch himself together again.

And you—you had let him.

Threaded yourself through the seams of his damage, wrapped yourself like ribbon around his ruin. Let him hold you like a secret he was almost ready to tell.

And once he had finished—once you were tied in a pretty little bow around the wreckage of his heart—

He’d cut you off.

But September comes.

And with it: him.

Leaning against the wall outside the Great Hall like he didn’t tear you out of his life like a page he didn’t want to reread. Like the summer hadn’t hollowed you out in his absence.

You pause when you see him. He looks up.

You hold his stare like a blade.

He gives you that smile—the one that means trouble.

“Miss me?” he says, easy.

You blink once. Slow. “Did you miss yourself?”

He steps forward. One step.

“I never stopped,” he says.

You don’t smile. Not yet.

But the storm is coming.

And this time, maybe… you’ll be the one who brings the rain.

[monbons]

Stitch Sunday

Happy Sunday all! Although it seems quiet on here today, I did want to share my most recently completed stitch projects. I’m super proud of them, and who doesn’t like a behind-the-scenes post? Everything is below the cut because the first is smut and the second is my Valentine's Day card for the Discord exchange. (I agreed to do the full list, so if you haven't received yours yet, stop reading after naked Simon!)

I am so pleased with how my first submission for EGF turned out. If you haven't seen it yet, find the post here. I created no less than FOUR body designs for Baz while trying to find one where he looked good naked from every angle. As promised, here is EVERY angle.

One of the unexpected challenges I ran into was that once the harness arrived, it was not the perfect fit I'd hoped for. Baz's angle made it so that there was a sizable gap between his back and the leather straps, so another skill I have now added to my repertoire is leather-working! I bought a kit, cut the straps down to the right size, poked new holes where they were needed, and hammered new studs in myself! Progress pic below.

Once I nailed Baz and his harness, I made my Simon pattern. The biggest difference is how exaggerated I had to make every curve in order to give Simon the fluffy body he deserves. Here are his angles!

Look at that little fold of felt where his thigh meets his torso. I love it so much!

As for my valentines, I knew I wanted to lean into my reputation as "the doll artist" somehow, so I sent everyone a Baz finger puppet! While you may have seen a version of this puppet before for COC, he got a slight upgrade for the exchange. I lined his jacket to make it sturdier, developed a better pattern for his widow's peak, and his shirt now boasts three hand-sewn seed bead buttons. (I grew more confident with the later models, so some of those puppets also boast real lapels on the jacket.)

Overall, I am super proud of myself for making just shy of 40 of these adorable puppets and spreading a little bit of the doll joy to as many people as I could!

Until we meet again, hellos and high-fives from the doll factory.

@alexalexinii, @argumentativeantitheticalg, @aristocratic-otter, @arthurkko, @artsyunderstudy

@best--dress, @blackberrysummerblog, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @bookish-bogwitch, @bookishbroadwayandblind,

@confused-bi-queer, @cutestkilla, @drowninginships, @emeryhall, @facewithoutheart

@harrie-leithillustration, @hushed-chorus, @iamamythologicalcreature, @ic3que3n, @ileadacharmedlife

@katatsumuli, @larkral, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @messofthejess

@mooncello, @noblecorgi, @orange-peony, @prettygoododds, @raenestee

@rbkzz, @rimeswithpurple, @roomwithanopenfire, @run-for-chamo-miles, @shrekgogurt

@skeedelvee, @stitchyqueer, @supercutedinosaurs, @talentpiper11, @technetiumai

@the-beard-of-edward-teach, @twinkle-twinkle-up-above, @theimpossibledemon, @thewholelemon, @valeffelees

@whatevertheweather, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold

[chemococktailonthehouse]

Nightly Ritual (Lucifer x F!Reader)

Description: Lucifer tended to stay up far later than he should, and he certainly wasn't easy to convince to come to bed. You, however, had a few tricks up your sleeve.

Warnings: Fluff (that's it. that's the whole post), sleepy sleepy reader, no use of Y/N, no beta we die like men

Author's Note: This one has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute now. I've got another one I'm working on and may not finish that has similar vibes with a touch of angst (what can I say, I know what I like). I'm not sure how much Hazbin I'll write for, as I'm not super involved with the fandom at this point. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Word Count: 897

This has been cross-posted on my AO3 account which you can find here.

______________________________________________________________

Lucifer spent many a night in his workshop working and you spent many a night trying to pull him away from said work and into bed. Besides, what was the point of a king-sized bed if there wasn’t a king to share it with? At some point you realized that if you could get him to enter the bedroom the battle was practically won. But how could you consistently make that happen? The answer fell into your lap one night when you dozed off watching him work. He gazed at you fondly for a moment before finally scooping you up and carrying you off to bed. As soon as he deposited you beneath the sheets you pulled him along with you as he let out a surprised umph. And so this dance of yours began. You would fall asleep in his office and he would carry you to bed. It didn’t take him long for him to catch on to your little game, but he couldn’t help but play along.

Most nights you’d pull up a chair to his desk, your head moving from resting in your palm to laying across your arm as you began to drift off. Other time’s you’d sit next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he tinkered away. Once or twice you even sat in his lap with your head buried in the crook of his neck as he hummed softly in your ear. Tonight though, you unintentionally mixed things up.

Luci heard the door creak open not too long after supper as you padded into the room. He was a bit surprised. Usually you wouldn’t start this song and dance until much later in the evening. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder as you peered at his current project. Maybe you were just here to watch tonight.

“Whatcha working on?” Though, to be honest, you already knew the answer.

“Oh, just the usual.”

You fell into a comfortable silence. Every now and again you’d ask a question about what he was doing or what tool he was using, to which he would happily answer. After one particularly in depth question he turned to you, “so, you trying to pick up the tools of the trade?”

“How do you know I’m not already an expert?”

“Oh ho ho, I think we both remember what happened last time.”

You swatted at his shoulder playfully, “oh hush you.”

“I’m not the one who almost set the office ablaze,” he raised his eyebrows as he challenged you to retort.

”Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. You should be thankful I took such a tremendous responsibility off your hands.”

“Mhmm,” you could feel his quiet laughter reverberate in his chest. He continued working, humming contently whenever you’d pepper kisses on his cheek. Eventually the frequency of your musings began to slow as he noted your breathing deepening, “you sure you don’t want to come sit in my lap?” While he didn’t want you toppling over, he was reveling in the close contact and would be damned if it ended any time soon.

“Can see what you’re doing better from up here,” the way you mumbled made it evident that sleep was soon to follow.

“You sure you’re not gonna fall asleep back there?”

“Mhmm. ‘m not even that tired.”

He turned and placed a kiss on your cheek, “whatever you say, dear.”

You did, in fact, fall asleep back there. Just as the first soft snore left your lips he felt you begin to slide to the side. He unfurled his wings, keeping you upright until he could turn around and lift you into his arms, “alright missy, let’s get you to bed.” You stirred slightly, lazily reaching an arm over his shoulder to stroke the feathers at the base of his wings as he carried you down the hall. The only clue that he had finally made it to the room was the soft click of the door before he laid you down on the bed. Before you had the chance to pull him down with you he had stepped out of your grasp. You turned to face him, worried that your plan had been unsuccessful this evening, “stay, please.”

“I’ll be right there, just need to slip into something more comfortable.” A few minutes later he climbed under the covers and pulled you to him, the warmth of bare chest pulling you in like a duckling to its mother.

You looped an arm around him once more, tracing your fingers across his back in search of those oh-so-soft wings. You huffed, disappointed to find he had tucked them away, “Luci?”

“Yes dear?”

You rubbed small circles until he finally got the hint. “Ohhh, someone sure is needy tonight, hmm?” His tone was playful, though it could be argued that he found much more satisfaction from wrapping you up in his wings than you did. And you loved when he wrapped you up. You began combing your fingers through his feathers again as he practically purred, “you know if you keep that up I may just have to start coming to bed earlier.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” there was that mumbling again as you began to drift off.

He chuckled, a soft, deep tone, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[sl-vega]

Hi Vee, I would like to request a sick! gn reader with some of the genshin characters (Yae Miko, Wanderer, Albedo, and Kazuha) where reader can’t really talk all to well cause of said sickness. What sort of shenanigans would ensue as our dear reader tries to communicate. It’d also be really cool if the reader knew a bit of sign language and tried to communicate that way (your choice on whether the characters know it or don’t). Have a lovely morning/day/evening!

NOW I'M (LOVE)SICK

pairings: Yae Miko, Albedo, Wanderer, Kazuha x [GN!] Reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, headcanons/drabbles, canon compliant, sick! reader, reader knows sign language

synopsis: in which your s/o tries their best to make you feel better since you've fallen ill

CW: mild language, potentially ooc, vee doesn't know how to do headcanons so you have been warned

additional notes: lol perfect timing for this request cuz I'm actually sick rn // header credits: yae header by @/k1aya on pinterest, albedo header by @/kuno on pinterest, wanderer header by @/ggoldiz on pinterest, Kazuha header by @/detailuffy on pinterest

YAE MIKO-Divina Vulpes

miss girl would be babying you 100%

kinda acts more like your mom than your s/o in this case tbh

"I told you not to go adventuring in the rain!" but then she goes back to saying shit like "aww you poor thing~, let me get some soup for you"

yae would also tease you too, cuz yk, she's yae miko

since she's not human, I don't think she can get sick, well not any human diseases at least

she tries her best to be there for you though, probably reads a bunch of light novels from her publishing house to help you fall asleep

if you try to communicate via sign language to her, she probably just hushes you and grabs your hands so you stop frantically making hand signs

cuz she wants you to get your rest

I think she does know a little sign language, but she never really committed to learning it, she'd gladly start for you though

ALSO

i think she'd turn into her fox form and let you cuddle with her like she's a stuffed animal

totally not projecting rn

ALBEDO-Princeps Cretaceus

he'd def send sucrose over to check on you if he's busy, but once he's done with his work, he is SPRINTING over to check on you

✨he's a runner he's a track star✨

maybe it's just me but I feel like Albedo would be the type of boyfriend that worries over you a lot

when he does come over, he probably has lots of concoctions that are supposed to clear your throat, but they're probably made of...

less than delicious materials

and you aren't becoming your boyfriend's personal test subject no thank you, not today

since he has a little sister, he knows how to take care of you

probably has experience cuz klee would get super sick after running around in the rain for too long-

makes you chicken soup, and tea, the usual

if you try to communicate with him via sign language due to losing your voice, he'll probably have the same reaction as yae

just forces you to go back to sleep

he def knows sign language (mr. genius🙄) but he wants you to get better as soon as possible

klee also comes over at some point, probably tells you some crazy story about how she tried to blow up dawn winery with diona or smth-

her and Albedo also make some get well cards for you once you fall asleep as well <3

WANDERER-Peregrinus

this mf

if you've heard his voice lines you already know what this bastard would say to you

he'd call you weak and say shit like "a small illness has already rendered you helpless? how pathetic..."

THE FACT I CAN PERFECTLY HEAR HIM SAY THAT-

he's a puppet so he's never been sick cuz he can't get sick either

nahida would probably slap him and scold him and tell him to be nicer though

on the inside he's super concerned about you

lowkey, he's afraid of losing you

not that he'd ever admit it-

(tsundere scara for the win)

he's worried that you're going to end up like the child he used to live with, and that you'll become "powerless before your mortality" as he'd like to say

same as yae + albedo, if you'd try to communicate with him via sign language he'll tell you to sleep

(in a slightly aggressive way but he's scara what do you expect?)

i don't think he knows sign language at all tbh

he'll ask nahida about it and he'll probably start borrowing books from the akidemiya and practices in secret for you

he WILL ruin his sleep schedule for you but he'll probably just brush it off and be like: "meh, it was easy."

when in reality this mf has spent an AGONIZING amount of time just to try and impress you

he'll make you tea too, the bitter kind

the VERY bitter kind

oml this sounds like scara slander 😭 dw I actually really like him

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA-Acer Palmatum

like albedo, he'd be super worried about you

tells beidou that he needs to make sure you're okay before the crux leaves for it's next destination

brings you tea, soup, and writes cute little love poems for you while you rest in his lap

tells you stories about his travels while holding your hand and sappy stuff like that

kazuha is a top tier boyfriend fr fr

unlike the others, if you tried to communicate with him via sign language, he let you teach him certain phrases

i think he knows a little bit due to his travels so he's picked up on a bit of it

he thinks it's really cute of how you try to explain things to him since you can't speak so you probably alternate between the hand signs themselves and pen and paper

VERY attentive to you

"slow down love, we have all the time in the world."

[roomwithanopenfire]

Six Something Sunday

Happy Sunday everyone! Thanks for tagging me @confused-bi-queer <333

I still don't have a lot to share. I'm working on the last chapter of The Way We Are and sharing anything would spoil everything. And I still can't share my COBB because you'd figure out my premise so fast. And everything other WIP i'm working on is still in super early stages.

But I've done so much writing since the last time we talked, and i want to post something, so have six unfinished sentences plucked unedited from a variety of projects for a rare peak into my writing process. All caps for both placeholders and notes to self <3

We go to DATE PLACE and DO THINGS

I’d just be an evil, rich vampire with a dead mother and a QUIP HERE.

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.” NAME says with a smile.

I soon find that my efforts were for naught GIRL WHAT

Other than that the flat looks the same. BLAHB LAHBALBH NOTICE THINGS.

She runs a hand through her hair. DEAR GOD HAVE HER DO A DIFFERENT ACTION.

let me know your favorite unfinished sentence.

and if you have bright ideas for DATE PLACES and THINGS to do at them let me know.

tag and hellos under the cut

@alexalexinii @aristocratic-otter @argumentativeantitheticalg @artsyunderstudy @arthurkko

@beastmonstertitan @blackberrysummerblog @best--dress @bookishbroadwayandblind @bookish-bogwitch

@the-beard-of-edward-teach @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cccloudsss @ciescen @cutestkilla

@drowninginships @emeryhall @facewithoutheart @fiend-for-culture @hertragedyconnoisseur

@horsesarenotdeer @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @larkral

@lovelettersto-mars @meanjeansjeans @m1ndwinder @monbons @nausikaaa

@noblecorgi @orange-peony @prettygoododds @raenestee @rimeswithpurple

@run-for-chamo-miles @rbkzz @shrekgogurt @simonscones @skee3000

@supercutedinosaurs @sweetronancer @talentpiper11 @terra-fae @thewholelemon

@valeffelees @you-remind-me-of-the-babe + anyone else who wants to share! i love being tagged <3

[xuchiya]

scarlet hair || song mingi || ep. 2/4

| genre: fluff. marvel au. supernatural. bucky! mingi. scarlet witch! reader. | mentions: the next generation of avengers but on training. ambush. injury. love on the go between you and mingi. and then capt. america seonghwa with an iron man yeosang andddd spiderman yunho

word count: 6.7k

ep. 1 || ep. 3 || ep. 4

Months had passed, and once again, your mother—alongside the other Avengers—was being called into action. Hydra had resurfaced from the ashes, their latest obsession tied to the revival of the super soldier serum. Their destination was Madripoor, and Selby was their only lead.

But your mind wasn’t weighed down by the mission itself. No, it was her—your mother.

She had only just returned from the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, her hands trembling as she clutched an ancient book discovered in the vaults—a tome of witches dating back to the 1700s. It didn’t just tell the story of the first witch; it bled into the lineage that ended with the two of you. You could see the way it haunted her—how the pages seemed to whisper of power, of curses, of enchantments that could awaken at the wrong touch. And now, with the world so close to chaos, the threat of that power falling into the wrong hands was more real than ever.

“Will you be alright, Mother?” Your voice was soft as you rocked gently in the woven hammock chair, your bare feet brushing the floor with each swing.

She exhaled slowly, adjusting the high collar of her suit with practiced calm. The click of her gloves tightening was the only sound before she turned toward you. Her eyes—filled with quiet determination and something far more fragile beneath—met yours. She stepped closer, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, her touch both protective and bittersweet. Then, with the softest of smiles, she cupped your cheeks and whispered, “I will be. You don’t need to worry about me, my heart.”

A kiss was pressed to the top of your head—warm. You stayed still for a moment, eyes shut, as if the press of her lips could ward off the unease clawing at your chest. Then you exhaled quietly, your toes brushing the floor to still the swing before you rose to your feet. “We can still come,” you said, your voice a quiet plea as you took a step forward. “We can help.”

But her eyes—steady, unwavering—met yours. And in them, you saw the same answer she’d given you days ago: a firm, unshakable no. Not out of doubt in your ability, but from something deeper. A fear she wouldn’t speak aloud. It wasn’t just about keeping you safe. It was about keeping whatever lived inside you from waking up.

The hiss of the door sliding open echoed softly as you stepped out, following the fading sound of boots and chatter down the corridor. The walk to the hangar felt colder than usual despite hundreds of staff inside.

The hangar was alive with noise—metallic clanks, urgent voices, the buzz of last-minute checks. As they boarded the Quinjet, a hush fell like a curtain over the group.

Inside, the only sound was the soft hum of Jarvis monitoring the systems. The glow of the holograms danced across the cabin walls like distant starlight. At the helm sat Yeosang, brilliant and calm, his father’s genius evident in every command he executed. Rows of projected vitals lit up the screen—names, heart rates, blinking icons showing stress levels and location markers.

And yet, despite the high-tech setting, it all felt eerily quiet. Like the calm before a storm.

The main hangar was eerily still, a rare hush settling over the massive space like a held breath before the storm. Only the faint whirring of machines and the distant hum of Jarvis filled the silence. You stood with the rest of the so-called "rookie squad"—new blood with fire in your veins and the burden of expectations on your shoulders.

Seonghwa entered first, freshly showered from combat training. His hair was still damp, soft strands clinging to his forehead as he silently took a seat on one of the tall steel chairs. Water droplets glistened under the hangar lights, trailing down the side of his neck, but he didn’t seem to notice. His expression was focused, calm, like the eye of a quiet storm.

A few moments later, Mingi strolled in, his long strides easy and confident. Yunho followed close behind, the two laughing softly at something only they shared—something simple, normal. Mingi had taken the day off yesterday to visit an old friend from Queens, a brief escape from the intensity of their world. Yunho, on the other hand, was no stranger to the Avengers facility.

He belonged here.

His cousin—the once wide-eyed intern of Tony Stark—was now a full-fledged Avenger, filling shoes once worn by Peter Parker himself. And Yunho, with his calm genius and curious spark, had become the next rising name. An intern, yes—but one gifted with potential that hummed beneath his skin like electricity.

You remembered the story Peter once told you when you came by to his office to check on your earpiece. He had taken Yunho to the museum when he was just a kid—eight, maybe nine. They had wandered into the entomology exhibit, but it was the arachnid section that stopped Yunho in his tracks. While other kids wrinkled their noses or hurried past, Yunho’s eyes lit up, transfixed by the intricate webs, the silent strength of the spiders, the way something so small could change everything.

That fascination never faded. But it came with a price—one that stole Yunho’s childhood like sand slipping through fingers. There were days Peter couldn’t bear to recall—days when Yunho lay pale and shivering under hospital sheets, his temperature spiking and crashing like a storm-tossed tide. The doctors were baffled. Machines scanned him endlessly, flashing data that led nowhere. No virus. No infection. Just an unexplained force slowly unraveling the boy from the inside out.

Peter remembered the helplessness. The guilt. The way he sat beside the bed with his hands clenched, watching his young nephew fade in and out of fever dreams. And every time he walked out of that hospital room, he carried the weight of what-ifs and regrets he couldn’t shake. No matter how many times he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t until he sought help from his senior—one of Stark’s most trusted minds—that the truth surfaced. It turned out, after that seemingly innocent visit to the museum, Yunho had taken home something more than a fascination.

He had taken home a guest.

Uninvited. Unseen.

An altered arachnid—genetically spliced, its creation buried under top-level clearance—had escaped containment that day.

Hours slipped by, slow and heavy, as you and the rest of the rookie squad remained stationed inside the hangar’s operations wing. The air had grown colder, stiller—tension lingering like fog that refused to lift. All eyes were locked on the holo-feeds, the blue-tinted light casting shadows across your faces. You could feel the weight of every passing minute.

The journey to Madripoor felt like crossing half the world. And in a way, it was. Not just in distance, but in danger—every mile they flew deeper into enemy territory felt like a countdown ticking toward uncertainty.

Yeosang sat at the front console, eyes sharp and unwavering as he monitored the holographic displays. Data streamed across the screen in pulses—coordinates, atmospheric shifts, vitals, transmission logs. Jarvis fed him real-time updates, the AI’s voice calm but constant in the background.

Everyone else had gone quiet.

It was the kind of silence that wasn’t born from peace—but from anticipation. Dread. Hope.

You crossed your arms, fingers gripping your sleeves as you stared at the live transmission. Tiny blue figures moved across the map—your mother among them. So far, the mission was going as planned but that didn’t ease the knot twisting in your gut. 

1:17 am Avengers strike team approaching target coordinates. No hostiles detected.

You waved your hand, fingers slicing through the air as you dragged a copy of the hologram feed onto the table’s interface. The flickering light cast faint blue shadows across your face as you leaned in, eyes narrowing.

“That’s an easy win for them…” you murmured, voice flat with suspicion rather than confidence.

Yeosang, half-distracted and clearly running on minimal sleep, let out a yawn. He refreshed the report with a flick of his wrist, idly spinning a screwdriver between his fingers like a drummer tapping out a restless rhythm. The arc reactor in the chest-plate he'd designed glowed a soft, lazy blue—almost like it was dozing along with him.

“Too easy,” Seonghwa echoed, his voice low as he moved to stand beside Yeosang at the helm. His jaw was locked in that same grim line you’d seen on his father’s face right before a mission turned sideways. You felt it too—an invisible weight, pressing against your temples, building behind your ears like a storm waiting to break.

Then your fingers twitched. A faint crackle of scarlet light danced between them, static creeping up your knuckles like goosebumps made of magic. It wasn’t summoned—it came on its own. Your chest tightened.

Then you heard it.

Child.

A whisper. Not distant. Right next to your ear. Your head whipped around. No one was there, but your heart thundered in your chest, each beat too loud, too fast. Your breath caught, shallow and sharp.

Mingi, who had been scanning the report with a furrowed brow, caught sight of your change instantly. The confusion on his face melted into concern as he moved, his arms uncrossing and his stance softening. He stepped beside you, his hand gripping the back of your chair before gently turning it—and you—away from the others. Then he knelt, eyes locked on yours, his voice calm but edged with worry.

“Scarlet… you okay?”

Your mouth parted, trying to form words, but nothing came out—only air and fear. His eyes scanned you before he could see why—your hands, trembling slightly, fingers curled tight as sparks of red magic snapped and shimmered in the small space between them. Your energy wasn’t steady. It was reacting. 

And then, you heard it again.

Your powers are mine.

The words slithered through your mind like poison. Your breath hitched. Your ears suddenly became too sensitive—picking up everything. Footsteps. Breaths. Multiple heartbeats that hadn’t been there before. You were trained to monitor vitals, even healing using your energy but these were wrong—they didn’t belong to anyone in the room.

Your eyes snapped to the CCTV monitors before you could even glance at it, every light in the facility died in a single breath.

The hum of machinery vanished—cut off like a snapped lifeline. A cold silence swallowed the hangar whole, just before the emergency red strobes ignited with a pulse. Harsh crimson light flooded the space, casting flickering shadows across every face. Klaxons howled through the silence, sharp and shrill like a warning cry.

Then it happened.

A ripple tore through the air—just above the center of the hangar floor. The space shimmered, warped, like heat rising off pavement. But colder. Wrong. A portal, unstable and spiraling, began to crack open.

Yeosang bolted upright, shaken fully awake as the glow from his arc reactor intensified. “Jarvis! Activate full lockdown protocol, now!”

“Lock-in sequence initiated, Sir Yeosang please go to safety now and others too— order by your father.” came the AI’s voice, calm but edged with urgency.

Seonghwa’s gaze darted toward the living quarters. The protective volts normally sealing that space were active. His jaw tensed. “Everyone, back to the living sector! Do not engage unless fired upon! Move!”

His voice snapped through the chaos, the authority in his tone cutting through panic. Chairs scraped back. The rookie squad sprang into action, boots hitting the floor in a rhythmic thunder as they rushed for cover.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You pushed forward, heart pounding, vision blurred by the red flashes. Mingi was just a few steps ahead, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds to make sure you were behind him. 

Then—clang.

The magnetic lockdown activated. Thick walls dropped from the ceiling with a seismic thud, as the living area was sealed shut from the anomaly entering the facility. You were all slightly out of breath, you all sat down on the white couch, the night sky at the back mocking the darkness in front of you all as it was clear that one by one, enemies could be lurking. 

“Yeosang, report to them about our situation. Everyone—be ready, just in case.” Seonghwa’s voice was low but firm, the kind of tone that meant he was already calculating worst-case scenarios. Yeosang nodded and sprinted toward the upper stairs, where the central holo-meeting deck hovered just above the rest of the hangar. His silhouette vanished into the red-glow haze as he moved.

Below, the rest of the squad was already moving like clockwork.

Mingi pulled back his jacket sleeve, the embedded wire-thread tech in his arm lighting up with a soft click. His fingers tapped swiftly against the interface, muttering a calibration check under his breath. Yunho had rolled up the sleeves of his flannel, the soft shhk of web cartridges being locked into place echoing faintly. Seonghwa ran a hand through his still-damp hair, eyes narrowing. He exhaled sharply through his nose. “This is outrageous,” he muttered, frustration biting at every word.

Mingi scoffed, rotating his shoulder and stretching his arm in a slow, practiced motion. “Totally. It’s like they’re trying to make our parents look like amateurs.” His voice dripped with disdain, but his jaw was tight—nervous.

You settled beside Yunho, your fingertips still prickling with leftover static. He was staring out the wide hangar windows, jaw set, eyes flicking across the red-lit sky.

"Do you think it’s weird?" he finally asked, voice quieter than usual. Not fearful, but careful.

You furrowed your brows. “What’s weird?”

Yunho drew in a breath and exhaled hard, like he was trying to shake the weight from his chest. “Everything. It’s like… like something’s off. Way off. They’re on their way to Madripoor for a recovery mission—classified, dangerous. And yet we’re getting invaded at the exact same time by unknown anomalies?” He finally turned to you, eyes searching. “That’s not just a coincidence. That’s strategy.”

Your stomach dropped a little. You could feel the pulse of it now—the invisible thread of something manipulated, something orchestrated. Mingi nodded slowly, pacing with his hand running through his hair. “Divide and conquer. If they can’t beat them together… split the team.”

Just then, above on the balcony, Yeosang reappeared—his figure skidding into view. His expression was pale, eyes wide and vibrating with something between disbelief and urgency.

“Guys!” he shouted. All four of you snapped your attention upward. Yeosang gripped the railing, knuckles white.

“Super soldiers are here in the building— they’re surrounding us,” he said, voice trembling slightly. “Scarlet—”

His eyes locked on yours, and in that instant, your body reacted before your mind could. A deep, ancestral thrum ran down your spine. Like a string had been pulled. Magic flared faintly at your fingertips. Your heart pounded in your ears. “What is it, Yeo?” you asked quietly, slowly rising to your feet.

Mingi stepped forward with you without hesitation, his hand curling around the small of your back in a subtle but solid gesture of protection. You could feel the tension in him—like a fuse just before ignition. Yeosang swallowed hard. His voice broke through the silence like glass. “Your mother couldn’t reach you from your coms but she said something about the book to protect it.” 

You hesitated for a second—then it clicked. Your mother’s words echoed like a ghost behind your ribs. You looked up, your voice sharp and urgent.

“Jarvis, lock Object 1024.”

“Locking Object 1024: Activated,” came the AI’s voice, calm and sterile, utterly unaware of the storm gathering in your chest. A mechanical hiss echoed in the distance. Magnetic locks clicked into place with a cold finality. The boys looked at each other, clearly confused. Mingi spoke up first, his voice cautious.

“What’s Object 1024, Scarlet?”

Your pulse was a steady drumbeat in your ears. You didn’t answer—your hands were already moving, fingers dragging a glowing copy of the central interface toward the table. The holograms responded instantly, light reflecting off your face in uneven flickers. You keyed in your access code with trembling fingers and searched.

There it was.

A weathered image blinked into view—the ancient, leather-bound tome laced with crimson runes and impossible power. The Darkhold

The boys gathered around you instinctively. Yeosang appeared at your side, eyes narrowing as he leaned in to look. You stared at the glowing book, heart pounding beneath your ribs. “This… This might be why they’re here.” Your voice wavered. “But why send super soldiers for a book?”

A heavy silence followed. 

Yunho crossed his arms, shoulders tense as he stared at the image like it might speak back. “Sending soldiers makes sense. Trained. Fast. Obedient. But a whole squad? For this?” He shook his head slowly. “There’s more to this play.”

Mingi slumped into a nearby seat, dragging one of the holographic tabs to himself. He read through the file descriptions, his brows furrowing deeper the longer he looked. Yeosang mirrored him, opening encrypted reports and historical entries at lightning speed.

Seonghwa, quiet until now, exhaled slowly through his nose. “Think about it. They aren’t subtle. They’re meant to break walls, not sneak in.” He turned to you. “That means this wasn’t a theft—they want us to know. A statement.”

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened. “Divide the team. Distract the main Avengers. Raid the vault while we’re alone.”

“And retrieve this,” Mingi added, gesturing at the flickering image of the book.  “But what exactly does the book hold that's worth a full-on strike?” 

You opened your mouth, but Yeosang cut in, already one step ahead.

“I decrypted the oldest entries.” His voice was quiet now, eyes scanning fast. “The Darkhold appeared in Massachusetts in 1693. The name Agatha Harkness shows up in almost every chapter. She wasn’t your cauldron-stirring cartoon witch. She was ancient, powerful… dangerous.”

You sank to your knees beside the coffee table, watching history unravel in front of you. Your history. “She’s the one from Westview, isn’t she?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Yeosang nodded, eyes focused on the articles—his research still running on the back, some still popping up on the side of his screen. “Part of a Salem coven. But her coven turned on her. Accused her of using forbidden magic—dark magic, even by their standards.”

Mingi let out a low whistle. “She sounds like a power-hungry maniac.”

You shot him a sharp look, nudging his leg. “Show some respect. She’s dead. Probably.”

“Hopefully,” Mingi muttered, but quieted.

“She had a collection of grimoires,” Yeosang continued.  “She had her own spellbooks. Most were destroyed in 1790—but she salvaged a few. And the key word here, Scar...” He turned to you, eyes locking onto yours.

“Some. There’s a possibility that Agatha Karness is still alive.” Your stomach turned cold. “She’s still looking for the rest of what is written in the book but based here, it’s not just about the book.” he said, his fingers running on the keyboard as he looked further.

Seonghwa’s brows were deeply furrowed, his voice low and tight. “Does this have anything to do with you or your mother?” His gaze flicked to the glowing image of the Darkhold. “Do either of you possess any of the other spell books… aside from this one?”

Yunho scoffed lightly. “She must be obsessed with magic books though…” He leaned back with a grin, as if to shake the tension—but then his smile faltered. Something in his mind clicked like a puzzle piece snapping into place. Slowly, he turned to Yeosang, eyes narrowing.

“Wait—Yeo, you said she first appeared in 1693, right?” Yeosang nodded slowly, confused. “Yeah. From the Salem entries. She was supposedly in her twenties when she went rogue. It’s not exact, but we’re guessing she was about twenty-four.”

Yunho’s eyes lit up with realization. “Scarlet,” he turned to you, urgency creeping into his tone. “I know this sounds weird, but… you and your mom don’t age like regular humans, right? You still age… just slower?”

You blinked, caught off-guard. Your mind pulled back to those quiet afternoons—your mother’s soft voice explaining your lineage, your bloodline, the way time treats you differently. You nodded. “Yeah… that’s true.Our magic preserves more than just energy. We don’t stop aging—we just age differently. Time doesn’t rot us the way it does others.”

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes on that. Mingi tilted his head, arms folded across his chest. “Wait. So if Agatha was born in the 1600s… and she’s still out there somewhere... then that’s not just magic. That’s possession-level dark arts.”

Yunho snapped his fingers like it all made sense. “Agatha should be ancient by now. Like, dust. Even with magic keeping her alive, she’d be too weak to pull off anything this big. Unless…”

You stood up, pacing now. Thoughts flew fast and loud in your head. “Unless she found a way to prolong her strength. If she was born in 1693, and we know our generation ages slower—then maybe…” You turned to Yeosang, realization dawning. “She could still be alive, just weakened.”

Yunho pointed at you, grinning. “That’s it! You’re catching on, Scarlet.”

But Mingi’s voice cut in, sharp and speculative. “What if she’s not just alive? What if she passed her magic? You know—some freaky friday, soul transfer… body swap kind of thing?”

You stopped pacing, looking at him slowly. “That’s not how it works… At least, not for us.”

Mingi raised a brow. “You sure?”

You nodded, your voice quieter now, as a memory resurfaced—your mother’s stern warnings about transfering. “Soul transfer isn’t permanent. It can be done, but it takes a ridiculous amount of energy. At most, a day. A month if you’ve mastered it. But eventually… your soul snaps back to its original body. The bond doesn’t last.”

Mingi leaned closer to the hologram, dragging the Darkhold's image into better view. “Okay, but the question here is… Why now? Why wait centuries just to send a couple of super soldiers and risk it all? Seems reckless for someone who’s waited this long.”

You inhaled shakily, your voice barely above a whisper. “Each witch from different generations comes with different magic…” Yeosang nodded, bringing up a chart onto his personal panel—one only he could see from his angle. “Confirmed. Lineages carry unique energy signatures. From elemental mastery to chaos magic, every bloodline evolves. You and your mother are at the core of the strongest.”

He flipped through data, generations flashing by in an arcane cascade. Names. Dates. Spells thought to be long forgotten. You turned to each of the boys slowly—your voice tightening with dread. “Maybe… maybe the reason she kept herself alive is because of us. Because my mother found that book…”

Mingi leaned back on the table, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes narrowed, lips pressed into a grim line. “So what? She found a loophole?” he muttered. “Cheated death with dark magic? That’s twisted, even for someone like her.”

You opened your mouth to respond—only for Yeosang to suddenly freeze at his station, “Guys…” 

The clacking of keys stopped. The silence that followed was heavy—everyone processing the possibility that the threat wasn’t a faceless enemy, but something personal. A quiet chime echoed through the base. Yeosang’s screen flickered. A new encrypted alert slid across his panel, glowing deep violet against the otherwise-blue interface.

It got all of your attention, curiosity spikes as his eyes scans the whole article. Usually the hologram is shown but Yeosang likes his private holograms and right now, you wish to take down the privacy settings and see his works. 

Everyone turned. His gaze didn’t move. He didn’t blink, “I just picked up an incoming transmission.”

Seonghwa stepped closer. “From who?”

Yeosang didn’t answer immediately. His fingers glided across the panel in a blur—data streams igniting, swirling symbols appearing with every flick of his hand. The projection table in the center morphed—first into static, then into sigils, and finally into a corrupted visual feed. A cloaked figure. Female. Shadowed. Her eyes glowed faintly indigo. Her voice was warped, distorted through layers of encrypted magic.

“To the child of chaos— Your mother held what was never hers. And now, I’ve come for what belongs to me.”

You didn’t realize you had reached for Mingi’s hand until you felt him squeeze it back. Hard. He had moved instinctively, standing protectively close, as if he could hold back whatever that voice meant.

Yunho stood up sharply from the bench. “What the hell…”

You stayed frozen—your body still, but the static of magic beneath your skin began to hum. Somewhere part of the facility, held inside a protective case, The Darkhold’s image, still faint in the background of the room, flickered unnaturally. Then it pulsed. Once. Twice. Like a heartbeat syncing to something dark, something familiar.

You barely managed to speak, the whisper barely escaping your lips, “…She’s here.” 

A sudden, violent blast echoed through the facility.

The lights flickered violently as the emergency walls trembled. Dust fell from the corners of the ceiling. The protective panels over the windows automatically shifted into lockdown mode, but the central hangar’s observation glass still gave you a full view. Seonghwa was already barking orders, his voice cutting through the panic. “Everyone back! Positions! Don’t engage unless necessary!”

Mingi furrowed, keeping you closer to him. Your hand slowly crept coldness around your fingertips as you felt your heart racing out of nervousness. “This is outrageous!” 

But you felt it before you saw it. The air shifted. The present had slowed down in time leaving you glancing around with confusion yet with a mixture of panic inside, you took notice of the thickness of power. Raw magic crawled over your skin like static and flames—familiar, but twisted.

You turned, drawn toward the hangar windows, pulse quickening as the atmosphere changed. And then you saw her. Through the reinforced glass, in the center of the hangar, a troop of enhanced soldiers stood in formation—towering, still, focused. And in front of them was a woman.

Her hair dark as night, falling in waves over a cloak laced with ancient sigils. Her eyes glowed brighter than before—indigo, unnatural, dangerous. Magic radiated from her in pulses, strong enough to make your fingers twitch with responding energy.

She didn’t speak. Didn’t move either but her gaze was locked on you.

You blinked, your grip on Ming’s hand slowly loosen before it dropped on his side whilst stepping forward slowly—like a moth to a flame. Unconsciously drawn. The hum beneath your skin sparked to life, magic waking, swirling at your fingertips.

“Scarlet…” Seonghwa’s voice came from one ear to the other as your feet continued moving towards her; you couldn’t take your eyes off her. She barely smiled yet it was that kind of smile that knew secrets only time could keep. And your power—reacting and boiling—whispered in return.  Your head tilted to the side in curiosity.

Yes child, this is raw power.

The voice echoed inside your head—no longer distant, no longer whispering. It filled your ears like a symphony of a thousand witches past. A pull—deep, magnetic, ancient—tugged at your chest. Your foot moved forward on its own, soft steps gliding across the glass-strewn floor like you were walking underwater.

You barely registered Mingi’s voice. “Scarlet… what are you doing?” There was concern—confusion. You didn’t answer. Your mind felt hijacked, and the invisible strings tightened.

This is the power you should know!

Another step. Another breath stolen from you. Mingi’s face was drawn in tension, fists clenched as he began to move, but Seonghwa beat him to it. He crossed the room in seconds, gripped your arm—not harshly, but firmly enough to ground you.

And in that one touch—Everything came flooding back. The static in your veins stilled. The haze lifted. You blinked, dazed, eyes wide and wet with flickering indigo. “Something wrong, Hwa?”

Seonghwa’s jaw tensed, but his grip didn’t loosen. “You weren’t responding,” he said tightly. “You were walking straight toward her.” His head shook, and he gently pulled you behind him. 

You nodded… but something still felt off. Like part of you was still out there with her. Like she had already taken a piece of your soul.

The walls shook so hard the reinforced steel groaned. You stumbled to your knees as the rest of the boys braced themselves. Lights shattered from the ceiling like falling stars. A low roar trembled through the floor, growing louder and louder until a loud crash echoed the entire facility.

The protective barrier—your last line of defense—splintered with a sound like thunder. Glass exploded into the room, raining down in deadly shards. You threw your arms over your head, curling in on yourself. The sharp sting of magic and debris laced the air. It felt wrong. Every cell in your body screamed.

A surge of amethyst-colored mist spiraled around you, crackling with violent magic. It grabbed you, yanking you into the air like a marionette. You gasped as your body twisted unnaturally, limbs thrashing.

Someone is here.

Someone like you.

Someone stronger.

Mingi’s scream was the first thing you heard. “SCARLET!”

He lunged from the floor with explosive speed, shoving off a broken bench—but before he could touch you, that same purple mist lashed out. It caught him mid-air, slamming him back. He crashed into the metal tables, splinters and sparks flying, then hit the ground with a skid that made your stomach lurch.

“Mingi!” you cried, arms bind on your side against the magic. Yeosang was already sprinting toward him, dodging debris, sliding to Mingi’s side with panic in his eyes. Yunho and Seonghwa flanked you instinctively, eyes narrowed, their breathing calm but ready for war.

The floating figure emerged into full view, arms spread in theatrical grace, her lips curled into a mocking smile.

“Hello, boys,” she cooed, her tone drenched in sugar and poison. “Forgive the intrusion. No one was at the door… so we let ourselves in.” The shadow that had haunted your screens now took shape. A woman, tall and regal. Her cloak shimmered with runes and living ink—moving like snakes along the fabric. Her skin pale, hair jet black, lips a bruised violet. Her eyes… oh god, her eyes glowed inside your mind, not just your vision.

Her voice could have seduced the air itself—sickly sweet, dripping with false politeness. It was the kind of voice that pulled strings in minds unguarded. Seonghwa stood rigid, jaw tight as his eyes swept across the armed silhouettes of the super soldiers aligning behind her. “Wrong house, lady.”

The woman tilted her head, her smile widening in amused delight. “Oh dear, that’s embarrassing,” she chuckled, conjuring a glowing slip of paper from the mist beside her. “But as you can see… right here on the address—” Before she could finish, the parchment caught fire in her palm, dissolving into ash under her own magic. “Oops,” she said with a wink.

You were still suspended in the air, writhing in the suffocating grip of her power. The mist that held you was no longer just mist—it felt like fingers. Real, unrelenting, ancient fingers. She floated toward you, slow and graceful like a predator who’d already won. Her unruly curls bounced around a face too wrinkled for her voice, her expression far too delighted for someone reeking of death.

“Aww… it’s so lovely to finally meet you, Scarlet,” she purred, hovering mere inches from your face. “Such a sweet little name—borrowed from your mother’s title, I presume.”

Your blood ran cold. There was something about her magic, the signature, the smell of it—burnt herbs, cracked earth, and something old enough to predate fire. Your brows drew together. “Who are you?”

She pouted, faking a wounded sigh. “Tsk. Your mother and I were dearest friends… until she betrayed me.”

“I don’t blame her then,” you snapped, voice shaking with barely restrained rage. Her eyes narrowed as she pointed a claw-like finger burnt just like your mother’s toward your face, the magic around it crackling with heat. “Watch your mouth—”

“Agatha Harkness,” Yeosang cut in from behind, breathing heavily as he struggled to lift Mingi’s arm over his shoulders. “It’s her. It’s really her.”

Everyone turned to stare. Your eyes widened. Agatha’s grin stretched wider, seemingly to forget what your conversation was a while ago, exposing teeth too white to be human. “Ahhh~ seems I’m still remembered.” She gave a theatrical bow. “You’re welcome.”

Then the temperature in the room dropped. Her face flattened, the smile vanishing as her eyes turned cold and cruel. Her voice lost its syrupy quality and dropped into something low, guttural, “Well then, introductions are over. You can have the boys,” she said, without even sparing them another glance. “I’ll have the girl.”

At her command, the soldiers surged forward.

Seonghwa was the first to react— despite the rule they were given but in this situation, it is their lives at stake and he may not be responsible but he won’t let anyone hurt his friends and he will take the burden of the consequences. His instincts were razor-sharp. His eyes locked onto the incoming threat, voice steady and commanding, “Jarvis—send in my shield.”

“Right away, sir.”

A high-pitched whirring filled the air. From somewhere beyond the skyline-facing windows, a blur of vibranium came slicing through the penthouse like a boomerang. Seonghwa didn’t flinch. He leapt off the upper railing, dropping fast as the shield closed in—his hand outstretched.

With a perfect snap, the shield’s magnetic handle locked onto his forearm midair. Seonghwa twisted his body and slammed into the floor below in a crouched landing, glass panels shaking under the force. The city lights reflected off the curved metal of the shield. He slowly looked up, eyes glinting under the blue-white glow of the shattered display screen above him.

“Engage,” he said, voice low and final. 

The enemy’s punch flew toward his face like a bullet, blocking it with his shield. The impact rang out like a thunderclap, vibrating against the reinforced glass of the penthouse walls. He skidded backward across the sleek floor, boots grinding against the polished wood, but didn’t fall. Instead, he rolled his shoulder back into place with a slow, surgical crack, his eyes narrowing—calm fury simmering beneath the surface.

Yunho, with practiced ease, web-fluid bursting from his wrists in twin streams. He snared two soldiers mid-sprint and slung them up into the metal support beams. For a second, they flailed like puppets—until their sheer strength ripped through the webs. They crashed back to the ground in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, and yet, like machines powered by something unnatural, they rose again.

From the left staircase, a war cry thundered.

Mingi stormed in like a force of nature. With both of his mechanical arms gleaming, he yanked a titanium pipe from the broken bar counter and hurled it like a spear. It tore across the open space of the lounge, slamming into a squad and sending them flying across the marble floor. One enemy tried to flank him—but Mingi turned mid-step, caught him by the throat, and slammed him down into the glass floor with an impact that caused the entire level to quake. His cybernetic arms hissed and flexed, glowing faintly with reactive power.

High above them, Yeosang dropped in through the upper-level glass ceiling, blades drawn, his chest reactor glowing like a mini arc core. He landed directly behind enemy lines, slicing through with a tech-enhanced, graceful precision that could only come from a genius mind. A high-speed spin-kick to a soldier's chest sent the enemy flying into the conference table, smashing chairs into splinters. Another attacker swung a blade—but Yeosang ducked, reversed the grip, and tased him with a shock pulse through his gauntlet straight to the neck.

"Keep pushing!" Seonghwa shouted. He ducked under a baton strike, retaliated with a clean uppercut, and twisted midair hurling the shield across the soldier’s chest causing the soldier to be caught out of breath as stumbles backward, the shield bounced back to Seonghwa. 

Yunho vaulted over the wraparound staircase, landing low in a crouch. One attacker tossed a knife, but Yunho webbed it in midair, yanked it back, and used it to knock out his enemy with a heavy backhanded strike. “Seriously?” he panted. “Pick someone your own size.”

Reinforcements poured in from the lower hangar—armored soldiers cloaked in shadow tech. Mingi stepped forward, cracking his mechanical knuckles. “We’re gonna need a bigger distraction.”

You thrashed in mid-air, panic clawing at your chest. Agatha approached again, this time closer, her eyes gleaming with twisted amusement, “I have waited a long time for you…” Her voice was layered—echoing with multiple voices. Centuries of witches within her. 

You struggled as your body snapped violently upright, pinned like a puppet mid-air. Her single raised hand controlled you like a string—each finger a vice around your will. “This power was never hers… it is mine. It runs in your blood now, child of chaos. And you will kneel.”

You gritted your teeth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the pressure building in your chest. “N-Never,” you gasped. “What do you want?! Leave my friends alone!”

“You know exactly what I want,” Agatha only smiled—cruel and knowing. She stepped in, slowly, like a predator savoring the hunt. Her finger rose and pressed under your chin, tilting your face toward hers “That book—The Darkhold. Your mother stole it from my sanctum, hid it in plain sight. All I want…” Her grip tightened. You felt your body tremble under the crushing weight of her magic. Her voice fell, low and venomous “…is what’s mine.”

You glared through the pain. “I won’t give it to you,” you hissed. “Dark magic should never be touched—” Her laughter slashed through the silence like a jagged blade—loud, unhinged, echoing through the shattered penthouse. She threw her head back, cackling, and for a second, the room felt colder.

“Innocent,” she crooned, almost fondly. “So very innocent. Did she never tell you?” Her gaze snapped back to yours, predatory, “How many did your mother kill… for you?”

Your breath hitched. “No…” you whispered. “She did what she had to.”

“She burned villages,” Agatha snarled. “Turned covens into ash. Shattered minds. Destroyed everything in her path—all in the name of protecting you.” Her hand rose higher. You felt your body rise with it—your ribs straining under the weight of her magic.

“And now I ask you, daughter of Wanda—was it worth it?” The room pulsed with the growing storm between you. Behind your pain, a heat began to build—a flicker deep in your core. Not Agatha’s power. Not your mother's.

It was yours. You felt the power inside her building. The mist around your body thickened, and with it, so did the pain. It wasn’t just physical. She was inside you. Tugging on your veins, on your power. Your mother’s face flashed before your eyes. You gasped—not from fear, but from something snapping loose.

Your eyes flared red. Then white. Then scarlet.

Agatha smiles, that one creepy, as she feels your chaotic magic running through your core. It was what she wanted— this power. “I don’t even need the book anymore,” she said softly, with a disturbing calm. “You’re enough.”

She hovered higher. Her hand glowed—red and violet, too close to your own power for comfort—and she thrust it directly into your chest. Not physically, but magically. It was like your very soul was being pried open. Your body arched violently as her magic hooked into yours.

A light sparked between you. At first, purple then flickering into your scarlet hue. You screamed, your voice raw, as the energy connecting you turned red—your red. The burning sensation wasn’t just pain—it was like something sacred was being stolen. Your identity. Your birthright.

“AAHHH!” The boys turned at the sound. It was terrifying to hear, felt it down to their core as their heads snapped towards your direction, Mingi’s eyes widen witnessing how Agatha was draining your magic towards hers like vampiric action, the glow on your core was enough proof that it was your powers that she was after. 

Mingi, now barely conscious, reached out, "Scarlet!" Yunho shouted your name. Seonghwa looked ready to kill. But Agatha’s grip didn’t waver. She absorbed your power like it was meant for her.

Your eyes rolled back, vision swimming in red and violet blurs. And through the haze, you saw something terrifying— She wasn’t even using her full power.

[jade-gemstone]

Danganronpa Ultimate Categorization

Welcome back to another episode of: Jade is a nerd about something absolutely useless! Today's topic: Talent classification in Danganronpa/Fangans.

In the process of making my own fangan/s, I've created a classification system for the types of talents you can give characters. These classifications are...

Arts: Talents that are involved in the visual arts, performing arts, or fashion. Encompasses performers of all types, any type of visual artist, or anyone involved in fashion. (Ex. Actor, Abstract Artist, Model)

Practical: Talents that focus on a specialized skill or work with your hands. Also includes any talents that are religious or spiritual in nature. (Ex. Mechanical Engineer, Detective, Shrine Maiden)

Academic: Talents that are recognized by how much knowledge or experience a character has in an academic field. Covers most science, literature, math, and research based talents. (Ex. Chemist, Theologian, Archaeologist)

Sports: Talents relating to athletic skill. (Ex. Footballer, Kickboxer, Bowler)

Novelty: Talents given to a person who is special simply by existing. Can also be given to characters who win a contest for their talent. Includes Lucky/Unlucky Students, royalty, and non-human characters. (Ex. Lucky Student, Student, Princess)

This system of classification was based on my experience in the community over about three or four years, seeing many other people's original characters as well as creating my own. I found many fell into these categories. My "perfect" ratio, which my friends and I used as a guideline for making our fangan casts, is 4 arts : 4 practical : 4 academic : 2 sports: 2 novelty. I felt this ratio kept things even and grounded.

A few months ago, I began to wonder if my "perfect" ratio was more of my own creation than an actual pattern I saw. I thought, in the event it was, that I would come up with a mathematically accurate ratio that better represented the talent distribution of Danganronpa and its fan projects. This was my attempt at doing just that.

Data Collection

For this, I tried to collect as varied of a sample as possible. I included the three mainline Danganronpa games and sixteen fangans, ranging from very popular ones to very obscure ones. The fangans sampled for this analysis were...

Danganronpa Another

Super Danganronpa Another 2

Danganronpa Despair Time

Brave Danganronpa Coward's Paradise

Project Eden's Garden

Danganronpa He(art)less Deceit

Danganronpa Hushed Whispers

Danganronpa Muave

Danganronpa Despair's Revival

Danganronpa Re:Birth

Danganronpa Twisted Truths

Danganronpa Survivor's Guilt

Danganronpa Despair's Flame (my fangan! also the one where the talent ratio originated)

Danganronpa Cyberspace

Danganronpa Akeda Amusements

Danganronpa Lost Paradise (my other fangan that isn't released anywhere but I'm counting anyway)

I figured out the talent ratio for each individual game by looking through their casts and sorting them with my classification system. Ultimate ???'s were thrown out if possible (such as in the case of Akeda Amusements, where Hanari was thrown out due to the fangan having seventeen participants) and if not, they were counted as novelty.

Also, shout out to Yuki Maeda and Teruya Ōtori for managing to count for two different data sets despite my best efforts at finagling a way to keep them confined to one.

Observations

The first thing I noticed in looking at the ratios for canon Danganronpa was that Academic ultimates are underrepresented compared to what I initially remembered. It had been a while since I revisited the mainline games, and it was a shock to be reminded of that. I was also reminded, but not quite as shocked by the greater emphasis on practical ultimates.

In fangans, the focus on practical ultimates continues to be heavy, with none having less than two. There was also less focus on sports ultimates, with the majority having only one or two compared to the three that the mainline games had a majority of the time. They also tend to have more academic ultimates.

I think that this could be explained by looking at the types of people who make fangans. The majority of people I know who make fangans have very particular knowledge about certain fields due to experience or heavy research, and more often than not these fields do not include sports. They are more likely to make characters based on their experiences and knowledge that they can then insert into the story to make it seem more authentic.

I also, unsurprisingly, found that my "perfect" ratio was not reflected in many of the fangans I looked at. There was only one besides my own that followed that ratio.

Now, if my "perfect" ratio is not the mathematically perfect ratio, then what is?

According to the data collected for the canon games, this is.

This just so happens to also be the ratio for Trigger Happy Havoc.

According to the data collected from the fangans, this is the perfect ratio.

The only fangan that followed this ratio exactly was Akeda Amusements. V3 also had this distribution.

When considering both mainline and fan made games, the perfect ratio was this.

Ironically, not a single mainline game or fan game followed this ratio.

Out of curiosity, I also calculated the standard deviation for each data set.

Canon Danganronpa has little to no variation, conveying that talent ratios are quite consistent between games. The biggest variation would be in the novelty category, making sense as V3 scaled down the amount of novelty ultimates compared to the other two games.

The fangans are shown to have a much larger variation. Though I can't be surprised by this, as perhaps it is an unfair comparison. The mainline Danganronpa games were written by mostly the same team and had less to sample from, while the fangans have not only a larger sample size in which to deviate, but many different writers that think differently about talent distribution.

Final Thoughts

In putting this all together, I found that my classification system, while not perfect in any sense of the word, has some validity to it. If I wanted to, I could definitely make some improvements to it (especially in distinguishing between certain academic and practical fields from novelty), but as of now it works perfectly fine as an aide in cast creation for me.

My ratio is also not perfect, which was an expected outcome. Really none of the ratios I found are perfect, with none of them representing more than one or two of any mainline or fan made game. While ratios like the ones I found can be good for making sure you have a balanced distribution of talents, they aren't required to make a good cast. Personally, I'll continue using my personal "perfect" ratio as a baseline for any cast I make in the future.

I also had a lot of fun making this, and hope I can find a way to make more posts like this in the future. Thank you for reading this.

[iamamythologicalcreature]

Pitch Manor Madness (aka WIP Wednesday)

Hi! How are you? It's been a minute, hasn't it. I want to enthusiastically thank @blackberrysummerblog, @leithillustration, @rimeswithpurple, @that-disabled-princess, @youarenevertooold, @fiend-for-culture, @whatevertheweather, @j-trow-95, @roomwithanopenfire, and everyone who has remembered I exist and continues to tag me on these wipsday things. I don't always get to read, and sometimes i read but can't comment, but I love having them there for when I need a fandom boost!

I have been working on several things lately, pretty much daily, so Snowbaz is never really that far from my mind, even if I'm not super active on Tumblr with it all. Today I'm highlighting my ongoing love affair project with Pitch Manor. Yup. It's never over, y’all.

More under the cut!

I've been doing a lot of research on English manor houses, going in a slightly different direction than the last research binge. And I think it's paying off! I had a lot already figured out from the last time I worked on this (was it June?). I'm getting to refine and tweak that vision now.

Behold my scribbles:

Yup. I'm really going full tilt on this. To those who have already been through this before (hi @cutestkilla) fret not. I'm not throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Pool water. Whatever. I'm building on the previous work. XD

And HEY! If you have ideas for Pitch Manor, please share them with me! I can't guarantee everyone's ideas will make it into my final floor plan, but I love hearing how other people see this place. And I DO hope that my floor plan will give other people a reference point in the future, should they want one. So I'm invested in making this work for the fandom at large!

(For anyone curious, this was all spawned by a fic I started in 2023 ("The Haunting of Simon Snow") which is currently languishing in unfinished-fic purgatory. Mostly because of my vision problems, but also because I couldn't write chapter 2 without figuring out the floor plan of part of the house. Then it just sort of... well, let's call it "blossomed." I am absolutely still hoping to return to that fic when I have this figured out.

To that purpose, I actually listened to the rough draft I wrote in 2023 this past week. I like the beginning and the end, but the middle needs some serious work.)

And thus concludes my ramble! Big hello's to the afore-mentioned peoples, and also @mooncello, @monbons, @best--dress, @artsyunderstudy, @the-beard-of-edward-teach,

@bookishbroadwayandblind, @prettygoododds, @noblecorgi, @thewholelemon, @drowninginships,

@theimpossibledemon, @aristocratic-otter, @ic3-que3n, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @raenestee,

@hushed-chorus, @skeedelvee, @bubble-gumhead, @bazzybelle, @facewithoutheart,

@alexalexinii, @bookish-bogwitch, @emeryhall, @valeffelees and anyone else who wants to say hi/post/exist in the same sphere as me, IDK <3

[sheerfreesia007]

Brains & Brawn

Pairing: Changbin x Reader

Word count: 2,580

Content warnings: Fluff, cursing

Summary: You’re paired up with Changbin on a semester project for your college class. While the two of you were in similar degrees and orbited in overlapping circles you had never really gotten to know each other. But this project brings the two of you much closer than you had expected and you learn how hot the resident buff gym rat nerd actually is.

A/N: Divider was created by @bernardsbendystraws, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

Jagi: Sweetheart

The smile on your face is electric as you hear Professor Kang call out your last name and Changbin’s last name letting you know that you would be paired up with him for your semester project together. Turning your head your smile widens on your face as you spot Changbin already looking at you with his own grin on his face. You weren’t super close with Changbin but since the two of you were going for similar degrees your classes tended to line up with his and you’d seen him more often than not in your classes. Not to mention the two of you had branched out in your field of interest in big ways, you had started a small YouTube channel with exercise videos to help improve motor skills and Changbin had begun interning with the college football team under their physical therapist, so you were both at least aware of each other if not close.

“Hey YT star!” he greeted you happily with the nickname that you had garnered due to your YouTube channel. He grinned widely at you as his eyes squinted slightly and his nose scrunched up at the movement. You smiled at him softly as you sucked in a soft breath, he was adorable and you knew you would have a hard time during this project. 

You had always admired Changbin, from what you had seen of him during class he was always kind and willing to help anyone who was struggling with the coursework. He was also well liked by all the athletes at school and was very popular and well liked by many. But now as he slipped into the seat next to you you couldn’t help but notice the easy warmth he exuded and how much it drew you into him. It was almost like an easy connection that you hadn’t known you wanted or needed.

“Hey Changbin.” you greet him kindly and he grins at you as his eyes sparkle that you recognize him.

“So you ready to ace this project together?” he asked teasingly and you chuckled at his confidence.

“Have you already started thinking about what you’d like to do for it?” you asked as you opened your notebook and grabbed your pen.

“Sort of, it’s just a vague idea but what if we used your YouTube channel and made a small series of videos together showing different exercises that show the different aspects of Kinesiology.” he said and you quickly wrote down his idea before turning to him with a curious look.

“Do like a set of five videos for anatomy and physiology, biomechanics, exercise science, motor control and sport and exercise psychology?” you asked him as you continued to write down the aspects for Kinesiology.

“Yeah, we’d both take half of the video to showcase our own take on the aspect and which exercises or information we could provide.” he said as he nodded his head. 

“Oh, I like that idea!” you said in an excited hushed tone that made him smile softly at you as you continued to write out ideas that popped into your head. You continued writing the ideas that came to you before you heard the bell for the school ring and you looked up surprised and worried. “Oh! I’m sorry I totally ran with your idea.” you apologize sheepishly and Changbin grinned at you while shaking his head at you.

“No worries YT star! I knew it was going to be a hit or miss idea but I’m glad you liked it so much. Here give me your cell phone and I’ll put my number in. We can start planning and setting up times for research and when to record the videos. I’ll give you my phone too.” he said easily and you nodded at him quickly as you pulled your phone from your backpack to hand to him before taking his cell phone from him. The two of you quickly exchanged numbers with the promise to get together soon to start hammering out all the details to the project together. And with that the two of you left to get to whatever your next thing was for you to take care of.

Hey, come to the gym tonight. I’d like to show you some exercises that I’ve been thinking about using in the videos. The text from Changbin had come towards the middle of your last class of the day, you smiled down at your phone and quickly typed out a response to him. Alright, I’ll meet you there. Do you want dinner? I haven’t eaten anything since lunch and I’m starving. Let me know if you’d like anything from The Jade Dragon. The conversation then devolved into Changbin’s love for that restaurant before he told he’d put in an order for both of you since he knew the owner so well and all you’d have to do was pick it up for the two of you. Chuckling softly you told him that was fine before slipping your cell phone into your backpack and turning back to your class.

It had been a month now since the two of you had been paired up for the semester project and the two of you had easily and quickly fell into a close friendship. Because both of your desired careers were similar you found yourself reaching out to him for more than just his input on Kinesiology work and vice versa. He had even started reaching out to you for tips of making his workouts more easier to follow for others since he was wanting to start making his own exercise videos and move into the YouTube side of things like you had. The two of you had even started hanging out outside of your normal meetups for your project. Changbin would sometimes surprise you after one of your late classes with a healthy snack or you would meet up with him to go for an early morning run before classes.

Over the month of knowing him you had come to realize that Changbin’s reputation around campus wasn’t so far off from his actual character. He was a kind, very helpful person but he was so much more than just that. You had come to see the sweet silly side of Changbin, which he didn’t often display around campus. Only a few people got to see that side of him and you were happy that you were one of those people. He was always cracking jokes around you and his loud raucous laughter was like happiness injected into your veins whenever you heard it. It had soon become one of your favorite sounds

After class was over you had looked at the confirmation text from Changbin to let you know that the food was ordered and already paid for. You just had to give his name to the person at the front register and they’d get it ready for you. The walk from class to The Jade Dragon didn’t take you long and after you gave Changbin’s name you moved to the side to wait patiently for the food to be ready. You quickly sent Changbin some money to pay him back for your portion of the bill before you began to scroll through social media.

Why did you send me money? Came Changbin’s text as you were scrolling through the comments on your latest YouTube video and you scoffed softly at his question while rolling your eyes. Because you can’t pay all the time Changbin. You typed in response before sending it quickly before going back to the comments. You chuckled softly when he sent you a thumbs down emoji just as your name was called for your food. You quickly grabbed the food and thanked the person before heading out of the restaurant and starting your trek to the gym.

When you arrived you peered around the open doorway to see Changbin working by the free weights and your breath caught in your throat. He was wearing a simple ribbed black tank top and black basketball shorts and you’d never seen so much skin or muscle on display by Changbin before. Your breath stuttered in your chest as your eyes raked up and down his form. You had always thought that Changbin was handsome, cute even when he was being silly but right now you were viewing him in a completely different manner. 

Heat flooded your body as you watched him set the weights back on the rack before his head snapped up to make eye contact with you steadily. Your cheeks flushed brightly as Changbin smirked at you while his eyes danced with delight.

”Are you just gonna stand there? I’m starving!” He called out grinning at you and you jolted in place before rushing over to him with the food. While the two of you eat dinner together Changbin explained to you all the exercises that he had come up with for the different segments of your project. The two of you continued to talk and plan out the videos while you ate. But while his happy, excited manner kept your mind occupied, you couldn’t help but steal glances at his body whenever he would show you the different exercises that he had come up with.

It was all a little too much for you as you sat there enjoying your time with Changbin. You hadn’t expected to be this affected by his looks but then again you also hadn’t really expected to grow as close to him as you had already. But as you sat with him eating your dinner together while laughing and feeling a little overwhelmed by your reaction to him you couldn’t help but admire him for his dedication to fitness and resolved yourself to slowly examine your feelings for him.

It’s another late night for you in the library as you stare at your laptop going through each of the videos that you and Changbin had made for your project. Over the past month you had brought up to him joining forces to create a new YouTube channel together. You had pitched it to him that with the two of you wanting to find careers in the physical therapy and occupational therapy fields that you thought it’d be even more beneficial to your viewers to have both of you making videos and content.

After he had been apprehensive and you totally understood his concerns but you had tried to explain to him all the pros and cons to it all. You had even told him that with your experience from your YouTube channel that you’d be able to help steer the two of you down the right path. Not wanting to pressure him into his decision, you had told him to take a while to think it all over and let you know at the end of the project.

And tonight as you sighed tiredly while going over the videos for the last time he had promised you that he’d meet up with you in the library to hand in your project together and he would give you his answer as well. Your eyes darted over to the small clock in the corner of your laptop screen and sighed softly as you saw that it was inching closer to the deadline time. Looking up from the laptop your eyes darted around the library searching for him but when you didn’t see him you sighed softly wondering if you should email the videos and the paper to Professor Kang so that it wouldn’t be considered late.

As you finished drafting the email to Professor Kang your finger hovered over the mouse pad for a moment before your eyes darted up to search the library once more.

”Don’t you dare press that button. That’s my job.” Changbin’s voice rang out loudly in the quiet library and you nearly fell out of your chair with shock.

”Changbin!” You snapped at him as you whirled in your seat to glare at him angrily, a harsh scolding on the tip of your tongue before your brain realized what you were staring at. Changbin stood in front of you dressed in a baggy black hoodie and wide legged jeans like the day the two of you had been paired for this project. But the two biggest differences from today and back then was Changbin’s curly messy soft hair and the black framed glasses sitting perched on his nose. You stare at him in silence as your mouth falls open slightly and your brain short circuits. Changbin moves closer to you and leans down to read the email quickly before reaching over you and clicking the send button on the email.

You’re still staring at him in silence when he turns his head to look at you worriedly as you had been too quiet for too long. He stares at you for a moment his eyes darting around your face before smirking softly as he notices your eyes darting from his curly hair to his glasses.

”I always love that I can make you speechless without even really trying.” He says softly in a teasing tone.

”It’s not fair.” You whine softly and he giggles loudly.

”What’s not fair Jagi?” He asks knowingly and you huff at him before scowling softly at him.

”It’s not fair that not only are you a very attractive buff gym rat but you’re also very smart and a bit of a hot nerd.” You blurt out sounding offended. You realize too late what you had said and your eyes widen comically as Changbin lets out another loud giggle at your assessment of him as a pretty blush starts to creep up his neck shyly.

”Well it’s not fair that my YT star partner is just as smart and even more attractive than I am.” He teases you gently and your eyes narrow on him with focus.

”Is that your way of telling me that you’d like to start a YouTube partnership with me?” You ask skeptically and Changbin smirks down at you while leaning further into your space.

”And possibly another partnership too.” Changbin says cryptically and you frown softly at him before tilting your head to the side with curiosity. Changbin smirks softly and cups your face before resting his forehead against yours. “What do you think of starting a romantic partnership with me?” He asks softly and you gape at him silently before groaning loudly and shutting your eyes.

”Add being smooth as fuck to the list of not fair qualities you own.” You whine out to him and he giggles at you before pecking your cheek quickly.

”C’mon I’m starving and I know you’re about to fall asleep after going through the videos. Let me take you out and walk you back to your place. And you never answered my question.” He tells you and you furrow your eyebrows at him as you turn to put away your laptop.

”If you think I’m going to tell you no to that romantic partnership then I’m taking away your smart quality from the not fair list.” You gripe out to him over your shoulder and he bursts out into loud laughter while slinging an arm over your shoulders as he guides you out of the library much to the relief of the librarian. Changbin grins as he nuzzles his face into your neck and whispers into your ear.

”Can’t have you doing that Jagi.”

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek, @kaiyaba

@bookswillfindyouaway

[gilverrwrites]

Free use is so yummy<3 free use + possessiveness is scrumpdillyiscious

Office!au cause I love herrr

But just imagine in the beginning when word is starting to spread around the office.

Kon is able to dodge most of it cause of his charming smile and boyish charm. I mean who could blame or judge him <3 that Kent charisma is working overtime.

Tim is their boss so obviously he's no go. Sure he's more than generous and a delight to work for, but anyone who's been on the receiving end of his withering glare knows how terrifying it is to cross that line.

But you? You're just the newbie, sweet enough sure, but you haven't been here long enough to really earn your spot in the social hierarchy. It's not helping when the gossiping old biddies take note of your ruffled skirts and smudged makeup. Reputations are so easy to gain and so hard to lose </3

When projects and assignments are passed out you can't help but tune in to the murmurs and pointed looks between you and Tim.

"Wonder what they had to do to earn that contract?"

"If my old knees weren't so bad maybe I'd get to use the company car too"

"Makes sense they'd get to lead that meeting we all know how good they are at /oral/ presentations👀"

The crazy part is they should know better than to assume Tim would risk his professional life for a lay. Especially since he's screwing Kon and the most he's assigned to do is "go grab some dry erase markers from staples.... Kon those are permanent".

No. the reason you were given these high level difficult contracts is you're damn good at what you do. If you weren't wickedly intelligent Tim and Kon never would have paid you any attention in the first place, it's just a bonus that you're super hot :(.

You try to handle it on your own, cause as long as it doesn't affect your work then it doesn't matter. You don't need to make friends here. No, what you're focused on is making sure Kon and ESPECIALLY Tim doesn't notice. Them coming in to help you like Captain Save-a-hoe would only make it worse :(

But as most things do, the situation starts to snowball. Whispers about you, become hushed talking while you're in earshot, becomes slide remarks straight to your face, becomes your number being written in bar bathrooms around the city. You'd think these grown women would've moved past their teenage mean girl phase but no </3

Still you keep your head up and your business to yourself, you can handle this. Until it goes too far and you're getting cornered in the printing room by a handsy coworker "C'mon I know you let half of Gotham hit. What's one more?"

Before you see it happen you hear it. The quick crack of a wrist being grabbed much too roughly. Frigid blue eyes staring hard at you, looking for anything out of place. And a chilling voice, whispering "you should leave" with 0 inflection. Even though none of this cold fury was directed at you, it still made your heart drop down to the pit of your stomach.

You were honestly quite fortunate that Tim got in there first. If he hadn't beat Kon to it, there's no telling what he'd do.

They'd treat you so sweetly after, giving you a vacation on their (Tim's) dime. Part of you was worried about this making gossip worse at the office, but it's hard to voice your concerns when Kon's head is glued in between your legs on the softest bed you've ever been in.

Alternating between sucking on your swollen, throbbing clit and sucking more dark marks into your thighs. Faintly you think there's no way a human tongue can reach that deep, but one stroke has you canting your hips against his face. You just turn your sweet little brain off and let them pamper you alright?

Tim's no better, holding you close to his chest as he gropes all over you. Quick nips along your shoulders and neck, each punctuated by a tug to your achey nipples. He hasn't removed his hands from your chest since you began, licking and pulling at them. He's so unbearable! Especially when he's whispering in that smooth, gentle tenor of his.

"Maybe rubies, right here on your neck. All pretty in red for me, that way they know who your pretty pussy belongs to." A muffled grunt of protest rises from your core that makes you gasp when you feel teeth graze your nub. "And sapphires Kon, of course." His voice is surprisingly fond for someone gripping Kon's hair so tightly against your core. Kon needs no encouragement as he laps eagerly inside of your weeping sex.

"No that's too subtle, how about something more permanent. He whispers, dragging one of his hands down your body to rest right above your cunt. His fingers trace over your womb.

"How about you get our names, right here" he drums along the soft skin, making you lightheaded as he drips his fingers down to your neglected clit. His touch ghosting over it, as Kon slows down his lapping to hear your reply.

"We're waiting Princess❤️🩵"

I personally have a strict "no tattoos of other people's name/No matching Tattoos" policy

But I fear this would work on me 😞 also this moved so far from Free use lmao

- 👑

Yeah, the curse goes that once you've gotten a tattoo dedicated to someone the relationship is doomed, but I think i'd risk it for TimKon ❤️🩵

[hwaslayer]

project: make you love me (jyh) | eight.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader x park seonghwa

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3.2k

—chapter content/warnings: scary movie night with friends!!, flashback scene with seonghwa 😅, snuggles, holding hands, yunho is the sweetest and super gentle with oc 🥺, a kiss on the cheek hehe, the next two updates will also be very crucial for these lovebirds!! 🖤

"What else should we buy in this aisle?" Chaery slowly pushes the cart down the chip aisle.

"Dude? We already have so much chips." Seungmin points at the popcorn boxes, nachos and other chips already sitting in the cart. "We haven't even gone to the desserts yet."

"Kim Seungmin, we are hosting a scary movie night. Back to back scary movies." She pauses to glare at him. "Of course people are going to look for food. We need to over-compensate than under-compensate." She continues to lecture him.

"She's kinda right." Soobin shrugs. "Gotta be good hosts." He shows the big pack of sour worms in his hand. "Sour worms?"

"Yes, but for decoration!" She grabs the bag and tosses it into the cart.

"Decoration?"

"Yeah, I'm going to put it into a fancy jar and organize it all cutely." Chaery giggles, making you shake your head as you trail behind with Soobin. 

"Can we please just eat these normally?" Seungmin continues to bicker with Chaery as they finally lead the way out of the aisle and onto the baked goods/dessert section. Soobin tucks his hands in his pockets, looking down at you with a smirk. You furrow a brow, confused as to what he's smiling like that for.

"What? Weirdo." He laughs and shakes his head.

"Oh, nothing." You playfully hit him on the bicep. "Ouch!"

"You can't just look at me then say that."

"Nah. It's nothing serious. But, Yunho is still coming right?"

"Yes." You squint your eyes at him.

"Goodluck making sure Chaery stays quiet."

"Oh hush, she'll be fine."

"Mhm." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Just friends, remember?"

"Hm." Soobin hums. "We'll see about that tonight."

"Choi Soobin, what is that supposed to mean?"

"Scary movies are the best environment for PDA."

"Or, scary movies are just a good environment for friends in general."

"Mm, no." Soobin shuts you down, making you scoff. "But, we can say that if it makes you feel better."

"It does." You continue to squint at him. "You guys are such instigators."

"Sorry." He smirks. "Just know I think it's adorable." You make a face and roll your eyes. "On a more serious note, have you heard from Seonghwa?" You shake your head.

"Not really. Not after I told him we should end things." You shrug. "He can be mad all he wants, but I'm done with it. He doesn't realize he's wrong."

"Good." Soobin scratches at his temple. "What if he ends up running back to you, though?"

"No, I highly doubt that." You say lowly. "Why?"

"Just wondering. I, um, was just reminded of when Seonghwa never wanted to join in on movie nights or our kick-its. I know it's a small thing but it meant a lot to you. It's nice knowing Yunho is making the effort, even as your friend."

"Mm, yeah." You look at your feet as you continue to walk alongside of him.

♣︎ FLASHBACK

"Hwa." You gently nudge him while lifting your head from his chest to look at him directly in the eye.

"Hm?" He hums, eyes still glued onto his tv screen in front of him. The both of you lay in his bed, his apartment awfully quiet after San and Mingi left for a late night fast food run. Seonghwa's fingers gently trace circles on the edge of your shoulder, his expression flat as he continues to watch the show that's on.

"We're having a movie night at the apartment in a few days. You should come." He lets out a small, pathetic chuckle before shaking his head.

"I don't know."

"Why not? You never come even though it's just my roommates and a few of our friends."

"Exactly. I don't know your friends like that, so why would I go?" You furrow your brows and lift your head from his chest.

"So wouldn't you take that as an opportunity to get to know them?"

"What makes you think your friends are interested in getting to know me? I know they don't like me." Seonghwa has a small smirk forming at the corner of his lips.

"Because they're my friends at the end of the day. They'll still try because they know it matters to me. Just like me asking you to do the same with them."

"It's just weird. I don't wanna be around people who don't like me. On top of that, I know they're your friends, but I'm sure they truly care less." He sighs. "Sorry, I just don't see myself doing it."

"Not even for me?"

"Why do you have to form it that way? You're trapping me into the situation." You roll your eyes, throwing your leg over him to start getting dressed again. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"I'm being honest, Y/N. I don't see the point of this." He sighs and tries to grab at your wrist. "You don't have to act like that. If it really makes you feel better, I'll do the next one. Okay?" He says just to give you what you wanna hear, though he doesn't mean it and he'll find another way to get out of it.

"Nevermind. Just forget it."

♣︎ END

"My point is.. people always realize after they lose something good. I just don't wanna see you get hurt by Seonghwa again, is all." Soobin chimes in again.

"Thanks." You give him a small smile. But, it immediately fades when you both hear Seungmin and Chaery bickering over the types of dessert they should buy, and whether or not Chaery should arrange a small charcuterie board last minute. Soobin cuts in and tells Chaery not to, while grabbing a pack of freshly baked cookies for dessert. He takes the cart from them and heads towards the self-checkout, making you laugh at how frustrated he's gotten in the past few minutes. When you and your roommates finally get home, you all get washed up and clean the apartment to start setting up the food at the table.

You're excited to see Yunho tonight, especially since you both haven't seen each other over the weeks due to tremendous amounts of tests, papers and projects. But, he still checked on you through random texts and calls, keeping it short for the sake of deadlines and letting you get rest. But, you missed Yunho, his company. You missed the random walks. You missed the McDonald's runs. You missed seeing him in the library— which, you haven't really gone to just because you've been spending more nights studying with your roommates comfortably in your apartment.

You remember asking him if he was still down to come tonight, reassuring him that he wasn't obligated and that you'd completely understand if he had other things to do. To be honest, you were ready for it. You were ready for Yunho to tell you he indeed did have other [better] things to work on.

'Nope. I'm gonna be there.' 

Is what he surprisingly comes back with when you tell him. When you heard his response on the other line, you felt your palms get a little sweaty, nerves starting to get to the best of you. How could you keep him entertained? Did he feel pressured? Did he even want to go? What was he going to think of you with your friends?

He is going because he is genuinely interested in going, right?

You couldn't help but overthink.

"Hey, what're you thinking about?" Chaery looks at you before unloading the chips into a big bowl.

"I hope Yunho didn't feel pressured or obligated to come."

"Are you kidding?! Absolutely not!" She sets the empty bag aside. "If he didn't want to come, I am certain Yunho respects you enough to be honest about it. But, I genuinely think he wants to come and just hang out with you." Chaery brushes your hair back. "Don't think that way, babe. If I were him, I'd love to spend time with you, too." You chuckle and roll your eyes.

"Please. We are just friends."

"For now." She winks with a playful pinch to the arm. "Promise he will enjoy himself."

"Thank you." You poke out your bottom lip. "So, how can I make myself useful?" She laughs.

"You are always useful. But, a bit of help with organizing the snacks would be great! People are gonna be here soon." You chuckle and help her set up the rest of the snacks, spreading the decorations across the table shortly afterwards. 

Just as she had mentioned, your friends started arriving quickly— all falling into your apartment one by one. You start to worry a bit when Yunho hasn't arrived, anxiously fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone. You head into the bathroom to relieve yourself and take a moment to calm down.

If he didn't want to be here, he would just say so.

You let out a breath and swing the door open, eyes landing on the front door ahead.

"There you are! She's finally done doing her business—" Your eyes widen when you see Yunho standing next to Seungmin, furrowing your brows at your roommate for having no filter most of the time.

"Seungmin." You say with clenched teeth, making him laugh.

"Kidding! Jeez." He gently taps Yunho on the arm with the back of his hand. "Anyway, I'm gonna help Chaery with the rest of this stuff in the kitchen. Feel free to grab whatever you need and get comfortable." Seungmin jogs over to the kitchen, leaving you and Yunho alone.

"I honestly thought you were gonna back out last minute." Yunho raises a brow before laughing a bit.

"Is that what you think of me?" You shake your head. "I told you I wanted to come."

"I'm glad you didn't change your mind." You smile up at him. "Hungry?"

"A bit?" You laugh and show him to the food, letting him greet your friends and roommates on the way. Yunho helps himself to a slice of pizza, while you take two— getting a bowl of chips and popcorn to share before you plop onto the couch and set your things down on the coffee table. Everyone is pretty much situated at this point, all sprawled throughout your living room while waiting for the first movie to play.

"Okay! Is everyone ready?!" Chaery asks, making sure everyone has their food before beginning.

"Let's go! Play it!" Hyunjin responds excitedly from the floor. And with that, the first movie begins: The Devil Inside.

Of course, with any scary movie, things can start off slow. It gives the illusion that it may not be as bad as you think— when indeed, it eventually does get to that point. Yunho sits next to you on the couch, hugging close to the arm rest to give you space in case you needed it. But, he feels your leg brush against his and he feels himself loosen up. He doesn't feel so tense when you set your plate back onto the coffee table and give him a few gentle taps on the thigh, asking him if he needs anything with that pretty smile of yours. He almost gets lost in the way your eyes twinkle when you look at him, the way your smile feels so genuine.

You are warm.

You are safe.

"I'm okay." Yunho responds to your question with a low whisper. You give him a small nod before proceeding to eat your food while watching the movie.

As the movie progresses, there are a few moments when you've already had to sit back and cover your eyes, the scenes too intense for your liking. Yunho actually hates these movies, truly. He can't stand them because he hates the visuals, the sounds. He doesn't really know where he lies about all this stuff, he truthfully wouldn't know how to explain it. But, he just doesn't like it. It's unsettling, and it's not his cup of tea. Of course, probably stating the obvious for most people.

The point here is that even if you had told him about the movie choice beforehand, he'd still show up. Because he genuinely wants to be here with you. He'll take any time he gets outside of school purposes.

"Oh shit!" You jump from the loud sound, instantly covering your face and digging it against Yunho's shoulder. He laughs at you, before wrapping his arm around your waist— pulling you closer to his body. 

"It's okay, it's over." He chuckles, looking at you while you continue to hide behind your hands.

"Don't lie to me!"

"I would never. I promise." 

"Ugh." You whine. "I'm sorry, I'm gonna hide from time to time."

"It's fine, I don't mind." 

"Really?" You look up at him as you find your body comfortably resting against his, Yunho's arm still wrapped around you to keep you there. He simply nods with a small smile, subtly biting onto his bottom lip when he feels you adjust in your position and scoot even closer. Yunho is trying his best not to be stiff, awkward; but in all honesty, he likes having you close and he just wants you comfortable. 

"Really." He whispers as the intensity in the movie climbs again. You smile at him before returning your attention to the tv, Yunho's hand gently resting on your thigh. 

"Dude." Seungmin whispers over to Chaery and subtly nods in your direction. "Cute."

"Stop." She harshly whispers back with a playful tap to the chest. "Leave them!"

"Says you." Seungmin bites back sarcastically before earning another hit on the bicep. 

You continue to let Yunho hold you, hand gently resting against your thigh as you keep close to him. He draws tiny circles on the surface of your leggings, making you silently giggle to yourself from the ticklish feeling due to his gentle touch. At some point, your hand lingers near his, but you're too afraid to make the first move [if any]. So, you don't. You can barely focus on the movie because you're too busy deciding if you should just say fuck it or not.

The movie says otherwise, though. Especially when a loud jump scare happens yet again.

"Oh my god, can they stop doing that!" You jump, hands coming up to cover your face.

"Y/N, watch the movie." Yunho teases, trying to pry your hands away from your face.

"Only if they promise to stop the bullshit." You joke.

"Okay, I'll call them and discuss." Yunho successfully pries your hands off after that statement, eyes peering into yours to check if you're okay. He doesn't necessarily let go of your right hand, letting you lace your fingers with his. 

"You're funny." You giggle. 

"At least you're laughing, though." He smiles. "Promise the rest of the movie won't be that bad. I got you, okay?"

"Okay." You nod, sinking back into your position against Yunho, hands still laced together. 

"Comfortable?" You smile at him.

"Mhm. If you are."

"Don't worry about me. As long as you don't feel threatened by the movie." You let out a small laugh.

As the movie continues, your position shifts in a way where you're almost laying onto Yunho, while he continues to have an arm wrapped around you and his hand locked with yours. Being with Yunho makes you feel comfortable, and the movies seem less threatening with him here. You can handle scary movies for the most part, but having him feels like a warm blanket on a cold, snowy day; having Yunho feels like the one sunshine ray poking through the clouds.

Yunho is safe.

The rest of the movie goes on, with Yunho being there to soften the blows of the remaining jumpscares. Before the next movie, you run to grab a few more snacks, with Yunho still welcoming you in his arms just like before. When the second movie gets rolling, things continue in the same manner with him. No one is really batting an eye, but everyone is also aware that you and Yunho have gotten closer lately. They try to mind their own business, except they all can agree on one thing: You deserve better than Park Seonghwa. You have been happier without him.

That's all that matters.

During the second movie, Yunho continues his subtle acts of affection— little pinches on your thigh, squeezing your hand, caressing the surface of your hand with his thumb as his way to console you, teasing you whenever you hide;

Nothing more, nothing less.

And it brings you so, so many butterflies. Yet, you're still not really sure of what you feel for Yunho. Maybe you're scared, maybe you're overthinking? Maybe Seonghwa was partially to blame since you're afraid of getting hurt. But, what you do know is that you hate when the movie marathon comes to an end because this means your friends go home, Yunho goes home. 

Everyone does their role in helping you and your roommates clean up, even though you've reassured them that they didn't need to. With that, the house is clean under half an hour, friends bidding their farewells shortly after. Yunho sticks around to make sure nothing else is needed, giving you leverage to join him outside once your roommates thank him for his help.

"What a night." Yunho laughs at your statement just as he slips back into his shoes, throwing his hood over his head. 

"Exhausting?"

"A bit." You giggle. "I can walk you to your apartment—" Yunho shakes his head.

"No, then who is gonna walk you back?" He smirks. "We'll go back and forth." You snort.

"Fine." You cross your arms and look up at him. "Did you have fun, though?"

"I did have fun watching you cover your eyes and accidentally hit me from time to time." You laugh.

"Hey!"

"Kidding. I did." He chuckles and gently taps you on the tip of your nose. "I'll be okay on the walk over."

"Okay." You smile. "Thank you for coming, and for being my shield?" You say in a questioning tone and Yunho smiles.

"Of course." You walk closer and open your arms for a hug, immediately wrapping them around his waist when he pulls you in. You hold your position against him for a bit, taking in his scent while he continues to hold you. 

Yunho is warm.

Yunho is safe.

When you finally pull back and look up at him, you hesitate with your next move. But, with the way Yunho continues keep his gaze on you, you almost feel like he's expecting your next move. Maybe he'd like it? You can't exactly help yourself, either. He was so sweet and gentle with you earlier, and he didn't have to come tonight. He didn't have to, especially not knowing anybody besides your roommates. Yet, he did. And he was there by your side the entire time.

You can't exactly help yourself.

So, you toss the overthinking out the window, tippy-toe and give Yunho a chaste kiss to the cheek. He smiles a bit, ears instantly hot and red.

"Seriously, thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, Y/N. I like your company." He digs his hands into his pockets. "Get some rest."

"Okay. I will. Goodnight, Yunho."

"Goodnight." He bites onto his bottom lip before turning on his heel for the lonely walk back to his apartment. It's a little past midnight and Yunho really does feel the loneliness the farther he gets from your apartment. When he steps into his own, he kicks his shoes off and gets ready for bed. As soon as he slips into his covers and his head hits the pillow, he can't help but think of you.

You.

Tonight, Yunho doesn't think sleep will find him. But he's okay with it for once. Because it's you— you're the reason why sleep won't find him. You're the reason why he's been happier.

You.

And he hopes you feel the same way, too.

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