#she's not one who has AUs easily assigned to her

[aphroditelovesu]

⸻ The Lost Queen - XVIII ⸻

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, eventual smut, pregnancy.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 2,330.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra, @jennifer0305 , @his0kaswife, @animetye-23.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 18

Roxanna felt restless, as if something inside her was in constant conflict. She paced her room, unable to rest, her thoughts racing around a single issue: her impending marriage to Alexander, the foreign conqueror who seemed to be engulfing the world with his ambition.

Her father had been clear. The union was strategic, a calculated move to ensure the survival of his people in the face of the sweeping changes that lay ahead. With Darius’s downfall looking increasingly likely, joining forces with the man who controlled the most feared armies seemed not only sensible, but necessary. ''It is for the good of all,'' he had said, with the grave tone of one who made decisions beyond his own heart. But his words found no echo in hers.

Roxanna tried not to let her panic show, but the reality was suffocating. She knew little of Alexander, only stories she had been told; enough, however, to recognize that he possessed a magnetic presence. His face was striking, almost chiseled, and his eyes shone with an intensity that could both fascinate and intimidate. He was the kind of man who seemed unshakable, but the force that drew crowds to his feet also made her uneasy.

The weight of this choice that was not hers was made even worse by the shadow of another woman. Alexander already had a wife. Roxanna had heard whispers about (Y/N), the so-called Lost Queen. It was a name that soldiers spoke with reverence, almost like a prayer, and it tormented her. (Y/N) was not dead, but missing, possibly captured by the Persians. Despite her absence, her presence seemed to dominate. The adoration that Alexander clearly had for his wife seemed to be transmitted to his men. She had heard that Alexander was sending out searches and preparing to invade Babylon, supposedly where his wife would be.

How could she, Roxanna, compete with her, a figure who loomed like a specter in the midst of Alexander's ambition? Roxanna was beautiful and she knew it. Her beauty was surpassed only by Darius's wife.

More than that, she felt an inner resistance to the idea of ​​sharing. She knew it was common for kings to have multiple wives, but still, the idea of ​​becoming one of many repulsed her. Roxanna wanted to be more than the second wife, more than a symbol of victory over her people. She wanted to be the first, the only. It was a foolish desire, perhaps, but it was hers.

Still, she knew it didn’t matter. The decision wasn’t in her hands. If Alexander wanted her, there would be no escape. Refusal was unthinkable. She would be forced to play the role of wife, to fulfill the role assigned to her, whether her heart was in it or not.

She would be ready to give her heart to Alexander. But he... Was he ready to give his to her?

"A doctor has come to see you, my Queen." Bagoas’s soft voice cut through the silence of the room, respectful and controlled. He waited patiently at the door until you nodded, allowing him to enter. His gaze was always firm but affectionate, as if he were measuring the environment around him before taking a step. You couldn’t help but grow fond of the eunuch.

"Let him in." You replied, trying to hide the nervousness that was setting in. But the anxiety grew in waves, relentless, as the man entered the room. He carried with him a leather bag and a series of strange instruments. The sight of some of them, with their sharp, mechanical shapes, made your stomach turn. For a brief moment, you couldn’t help but think that they looked more like torture tools than healing tools.

You took a deep breath, trying to find calm. After all, this was an order from Perdiccas, who, even without saying it, showed genuine concern. The memory of him hugging you, holding your hand gently, whispering sweet words to you, was both comforting and disturbing. His presence awakened conflicting feelings. Part of you wished he was there, that he hadn't left the room so abruptly. But another part, hurt by the circumstances, wanted distance.

You needed to talk about what was happening. About everything. But not now. You needed to focus on yourself, on protecting yourself and the life growing inside you. At least, until Alexander came to get you.

Your gaze instinctively fell on your hands, which rested on the subtle curve of your belly. It was an almost unconscious gesture, an attempt to protect the life growing inside you. Although you weren't completely sure about the time, you estimated that your pregnancy was already close to four months. The idea was both beautiful and terrifying.

"How are you feeling, Your Majesty?" The doctor asked, his voice grave but gentle, as he took a few steps towards you. There was something in his gaze, a deep green that seemed to seek answers before you could even offer them.

"A little better." You murmured, trying to sound calm, but feeling the weight of your vulnerability. His eyes met yours, and for an instant, you felt disarmed, exposed. The tension in the air was palpable, and the anticipation of the upcoming examination increased the whirlwind of emotions that already took over you.

The doctor’s gaze fell on the discarded sheet next to the bed, where a small but unmistakable stain of blood marked the clear surface. He coughed discreetly, perhaps to disguise the evident discomfort he felt at the delicate situation.

"You were lucky," He said after a brief silence, gesturing for you to spread your legs. The request was direct, professional, but you couldn't help the blush that rose to your cheeks. The idea of ​​exposing yourself like that, even in front of a doctor, made your body stiffen with embarrassment.

But you forced yourself to keep your composure, taking a deep breath to push away the discomfort. "It’s like he’s a gynecologist," you told yourself in your head, trying to rationalize. He was a doctor, after all. It didn’t matter that medicine back then was rudimentary, or that you had doubts about the real effectiveness of his knowledge.

Details. Just details.

"Was I lucky?" Your voice came out in a low murmur, with a slightly bitter tone that you couldn’t hide. The whole situation felt surreal, as if you were trapped in a game that was out of your control.

And that was probably exactly what it was.

The doctor nodded, moving carefully as he lifted the light chiton covering your body. His gaze remained fixed on his task, professional but intense. "Yes," He replied, his voice deep but calm. "You almost miscarried."

The words hit you like a cold blast, making your heart clench. What had started as discomfort now became palpable fear. You knew the pregnancy was fragile, but hearing it so directly was a cruel confirmation of the vulnerability of this new life inside you.

Instinctively, your hands went back to your belly, as if trying to protect it from any unseen threat. The silence between you stretched for a moment, heavy, as you absorbed what he had said. It wasn’t just luck. It was a warning. And a reminder that your body and mind were carrying far more than they could bear alone.

The doctor carefully lowered your chiton before approaching you again, this time placing his hands on your belly. His initial touch was firm, almost rough, and you flinched instinctively, feeling uncomfortable with the pressure he was applying. He seemed oblivious to your reaction, completely focused on his assessment, but you could barely contain the shiver that ran through your body.

"Why are you doing that so hard?" You started to ask, but he held up his hand, interrupting you before you could finish.

"How long have you been pregnant, Your Majesty?" He asked, his voice serious, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that seemed to weigh on you.

For a moment, the question took you by surprise. His incisive tone and the way he stared at you made you nervous, but you knew you had to answer. Swallowing hard, you murmured, "I think I’m four months along..."

He nodded, but his gaze remained skeptical, as if questioning the accuracy of your answer. Stepping back, he seemed to ponder before finally uttering the words that left you speechless.

"I believe you are pregnant with twins."

"Twins?" You repeated in a whisper, almost as if you were asking yourself.

The doctor nodded again, this time with a more serious expression. He seemed to be measuring his words, but he still chose to be direct. "Your belly is more swollen than normal for a single pregnancy," He explained, his voice calm but filled with concern. After a brief sigh, he continued, this time with a darker tone. "Unfortunately, I must warn you of the risks. Giving birth to two babies... It’s dangerous. There’s a good chance you won’t survive the birth."

His words hit you like a blow. Your eyes widened, and the room seemed to close in around you. To die in childbirth. In ancient times. It sounded like a sentence you never imagined you would face. Terror settled in your chest, and for a moment it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could utter a word, another voice cut through the silence.

"I suggest you keep your comments to yourself."

It was Perdiccas, his imposing figure appearing in the doorway of the room. His tone was calm, but filled with disapproval as he fixed the doctor with a hard stare. His eyes flashed, as if ready to squelch any further attempts to alarm her. "My Queen is already terrified enough. We don’t need your unnecessary comments."

His presence filled the space, and you felt a mixture of relief and discomfort. Perdiccas had always been a complex figure in your life — protective and, at the same time, charged with an authority that sometimes felt overwhelming. Yet his words, even as a reprimand to the doctor, brought a strange sense of security. As if, for a moment, he was willing to carry the weight you feared to face alone.

The doctor hesitated, clearly disconcerted, but bowed his head in deference. "My apologies, Your Majesty. It was merely a warning." He gathered his things quickly, as if to avoid any further confrontation with Perdiccas, and bowed out.

Now, only the two of you remained in the room. Perdiccas approached slowly, his eyes softening as they landed on you. "I will not let anything happen to you," He said, his voice lower and firmer, like a promise he seemed determined to keep.

And in that moment, you allowed yourself to believe his words. There was something in Perdiccas’ tone, in the firmness of his promise, that seemed sincere. Maybe it was the vulnerability that enveloped you, making him an anchor in the midst of the whirlwind of uncertainty. Or maybe it was the old feelings, the ones you tried to bury, but that now resurfaced, stubborn and undeniable, creating cracks in the armor you had built over time.

He was there, close enough for his presence to warm the cold room, and for a brief moment, you felt a security that you hadn’t experienced in months. Against all the reasons your mind tried to list, you found yourself trusting Perdiccas once again, as if his promise were a rope pulling you out of the abyss.

Or maybe it was the pregnancy hormones.

You just hoped you wouldn't regret it a second time.

Alexander was determined: he would only take Roxanna as his wife if he had the consent of (Y/N), his beloved and first wife, from whom fate had separated him. He knew that to unite with another woman without (Y/N)'s knowledge and permission would be the same as betraying the deep feelings he still harbored for her. It was a line that Alexander was not willing to cross. Acting in the shadows, making decisions that could hurt or dishonor (Y/N), would be an act he would never forgive himself for. The respect and love he had for her were unshakable, and even in the face of difficult circumstances, he was determined to honor them above all else.

But before any decision about Roxanna could be made, he had to recover (Y/N). There was no other path to follow while she was still beyond his reach. Alexander had already made his decision: he would leave for Babylon immediately. No matter the challenges, he was willing to face them.

He would mobilize his army for the mission, for he knew that no effort would be too great to rescue his beloved. He trusted his generals and soldiers completely, loyal men who had always followed him, and it would be no different this time. When he communicated his determination, he was certain that they would support him without hesitation, understanding that, for Alexander, the search for (Y/N) was not only a matter of love, but of honor.

"Call the generals immediately." Alexander's firm voice echoed through the room. The page, without wasting time, bowed hurriedly and ran off to carry out the order.

Alexander was alone for a moment, but his mind was far from there. He could almost smell (Y/N)'s perfume, that delicate and unmistakable aroma that had enveloped him so many times. He seemed to hear the soft melody of her laughter in the background and feel the gentle touch of her fingers against his skin. It was as if the memory of her was more alive than ever, calling him to action.

Finally, he would be going after her. There would be no more delay, doubts or hesitations. Every step he took now would bring him closer to (Y/N), and nothing in the world could stop him from bringing her back.

''I'm coming for you, my Queen.''

— lady l: maybe a shorter chapter but that's because it's like a preparation for chapter 19 and especially 20. I hope you liked it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

See you a in the next chapter! I'll probably post the next this weekend, though. It's practically ready. 😉

Also, expect a lot of drama to come! Alexander is coming to Babylon!! 😚

[saetoru]

RATE MY PROFESSOR! — GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day one — threesomes ; find masterlist here

synopsis. you’re professor gojo’s TA—the catch? you both are romantically involved. what do you do when professor geto happens to accidentally walk in on you giving a blowjob? let him fuck you so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t tell a soul, of course

length. 5.1k words (deep, big, heavy sigh)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, college au, teacher-student relationships, prof! satoru + suguru, TA! reader, power imbalance, age gaps (reader is early twenties and satoru + suguru are early thirties), semi public sex (at campus in satoru’s office), suguru walking in on you and satoru, threesomes, fingering + blowjobs + hair pulling + throat fucking + cum swallowing (satoru), male masturbation + edging (suguru), unprotected sex + (one) clit slap + creampie (suguru), pet names (baby, sweetheart, angel, princess, pretty girl, good girl), not proof read—i am a raw dog kinda gal

notes. i would highly discourage having intimate relations with a professor—but….if your professor looks like gojo or geto, i’m blind babe. i ain’t see nothing. i won’t tell a soul

“you guys wanna get lunch?” nobara hums, “we’re all here.”

megumi, as always, looks like he’s about to say no—he probably wants to go home as quickly as possible. but that’s not an option because before he can, yuji has already piped up with an enthusiastic, “yeah! i’m down.”

you fiddle your fingers nervously—how are you supposed to get out of this one? you’d just used the excuse of grading assignments for satoru yesterday, and surely you couldn’t possibly have a fresh pile of them to grade again within twenty-four hours, right? it’d be a suspicious excuse, especially one for nobara, who seems to sniff out a lie a little too easily. 

it’s not that you don’t want to hang out with your friends, you love them. really. but you promised you’d be in satoru’s office in fifteen minutes—and you’re not about to keep him waiting, so lunch will have to wait for another time.

you’re still thinking of a usable excuse when she turns to you herself, unimpressed as she dryly says, “i assume you have some midterm review to help him polish or something,” she grumbles, “gojo is so lazy,” she scoffs.

oh—well, that wasn’t very hard. she’s just made it ten times easier for you. nobara has handed you the perfect excuse right in the palm of your hand, and before you can even play it off casually, yuji cuts in and distracts her. bless yuji, you think to yourself.

“hey, professor gojo is a great guy! we all passed with an A! isn’t that great?”

“everyone gets an A in his class, dumbass,” megumi grunts, rolling his eyes, “not getting an A in his class practically means you’re deliberately trying to do poorly.”

on campus, professor gojo is a fan favorite—his rate my professor score is a perfect five stars, and most of the students around campus rave about him. why? because he gives out the letter grade A+ like it’s candy. anyone would love a professor like that. 

he doesn’t ever take attendance or knock your grade down when you skip class, his assignments are always easy to google answers to, and the quizzes have unlimited time and attempts. his tests are straightforward enough that even if you never pay attention, doing the review he uploads is sure to help you cram enough to pass. and what’s better? he always adds a generous curve. not only that, but professor gojo is a friendly guy—he loves talking to his students, loves to ramble away if you stop him in the halls or visit during office hours, loves to listen to your stories and nod along in interest, loves to crack jokes and have a good laugh.

everyone loves professor gojo. and when they leave his class with an A+, they love him even more. 

you had an A+ in physics yourself when you took his class—and you hate physics. you hated it in high school, and you hate it now. but for gojo satoru? you’re almost a physics enthusiast. professor gojo—or rather, satoru, as you call him now, takes a liking to you. a very…strong liking, if you will. 

it all starts on a fateful monday afternoon two semesters ago—it’s one thirty pm, the busiest hour on campus. sometimes, it feels like everyone takes classes at one pm—and as such, getting a table in the university coffee shop is almost impossible. you’re just about to give up and leave with your coffee and sandwich after scanning the place when a wave of a hand catches your attention. 

it’s professor gojo. 

need a seat? he asks you, gesturing at the chair in front of him at his table—it’s a smooth, amused little drawl, the way he talks. it’s almost always a borderline teasing tone, and his voice is low enough that it sounds oddly enticing. you’ve heard enough girls lust over his voice in class to know you’re not the only one who sometimes appreciates the sound. 

you try to insist that you wouldn’t want to intrude, but professor gojo is a nice guy; always looks out for his students and helps them out. so, when he insists that he doesn’t mind you taking the spare seat as he grades a few assignments, well…you decide to sheepishly thank him and sit across from him, finally having somewhere to sit and eat before you’re off to your next class. 

and then it begins.

every now and then, you sit across from your physics professor in the crowded coffee shop on campus as you enjoy a cold brew and a sandwich before your next class. somehow, he always manages to snatch a table, and somehow, you always manage to find him. you like to ramble to him sometimes—how professor nanami is a bit too strict for your liking (he giggles at that), how professor ieri always seems too tired and miserable to be here (he nods and agrees), and how professor geto is nice, but he takes literature pretty seriously (he gives you an amused look at that as he hums.)

somewhere along the line, he asks you to be his TA for the following semester—and somewhere further along that line…well, perhaps the one-on-one talks as you sit together at a table for two felt a little too close to something of a romantic setting because you and professor gojo kiss in his office while he calls you in to explain your TA responsibilities. 

that was never supposed to happen. 

you don’t even remember who leaned in first, or whose arms were the first to wrap around the other, or who tugged who closer, but you both kiss. and then some. and then it happens again, and again, and again—and, well…you’re professor gojo’s, or better yet, satoru’s best kept secret.

you go to his office to grade assignments for him—in between if he steals a few kisses, who’s to know? sometimes, he’s a bit riskier, likes to spread his legs and free his cock and have your hand stroke him as he eyes the door. it’s always a nice view to watch him unbutton a few buttons of his shirt and bite back moans. other days, he likes to slip his hand past your waistband and toy with your clit—the amused glint in his eyes, as he tells you not to get distracted and keep grading when you gasp always, earns him a sharp glare.

it’s like that for the semester, just you and him in his little office where you can break the rules in the safety of secrecy. 

that is, until now. 

admittedly, this isn’t the best time to be doing this—professor geto likes to have lunch with satoru around this time, and you know you’re cutting it close…but he just looks so pretty like this, head fallen back against his chair as his lips part with a soft gasp.

you’re on your knees, looking up as you suck on the tip of his stiff cock before taking him down your throat, bobbing your head up and down. it’s a rewarding position to be in—to have the hot, loved, campus favorite professor that everyone thirsts over falling apart in your mouth, hands gripping the arms of his chair as he pants harshly above you.

he looks pretty—always does, always looks good enough that you can feel the ache between your legs get worse. the messy strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, and his lips are always so pink and plump when he bites them like that, and who can forget the way his eyes turn just a shade darker of that bright blue?

you hum around him, making him groan as he mumbles, “f-fuck, you’re so good, sweetheart—always know how to make me feel good.”

you press a kiss to his tip, smearing the bead of pre cum leaking from his slit along your lips before licking them clean—he closes his eyes and groans at that. you can’t help but giggle, can’t help but press more kisses along his hardened length until you’re at the base of his cock. 

“pretty little lips,” he hums, reaching to rub his thumb over your bottom lip as you open your mouth, letting him slip into your mouth—he hums approvingly as your tongue swirls around the digit, sucking slowly. “‘s like you were made for taking me, huh?”

“‘course i was,” you grin cheekily—and then you’re back to sucking on his cock, tongue rubbing over that thick vein you love to trace and reaching a hand to play with his balls. he moans—it’s low but still whiny enough that you can’t help but feel so proud at how needy he is, how desperately he always wants you. no matter the risk.

except the risk is probably not the wisest one to test today because just as satoru lets out a particularly loud whine when you swallow around him, the door clicks open and…

oh. 

oh no. 

this…this isn’t good—this is terrible, in fact. this is the worst possible outcome to the worst possible thing you’ve done, and now you’re screwed. entirely destroyed, in fact—the both of you. here goes your admission and your progress on your degree, and here goes satoru’s entire career and everything he’s worked for, and all because you couldn’t help but give him a blowjob in the middle of his office with the door unlocked where his best friend can walk right in and get a full view.

and worse? this best friend of his happens to be another professor on campus who you happen to have had just last semester. you’re sure he knows you; you’re his former student, after all, and he must certainly know his best friend’s TA. 

professor geto blinks—his eyes go back and forth between you and satoru and the still-hard cock between his legs that’s glistening with your spit as you sit on your knees. yeah—there’s no explaining this one.

“well,” he says blankly, “i guess that’s on me for not knocking, huh?”

“suguru,” satoru grumbles, “some of us are busy y’know? can’t you come back later?”

you turn to satoru in shock—how can he be so normal about this? how can he just casually act like this is some random hook-up his friend walked in on instead of a (very illegal and very unprofessional) teacher-student relationship that could get the two of you in more trouble than you can comprehend? 

but professor geto doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned. there’s no look of disgust or panic or even anger at you and satoru for your unprofessional habits. there’s no alarm at the distasteful activities you’re doing in the middle of a university office where anyone could potentially walk in on. and then there’s satoru—he doesn’t even bother making himself decent or pulling you from your knees.

no, instead, he looks at professor geto in slight irritation as the latter stands there. 

“so this is what you’re always busy doing in your office, huh?” professor geto hums, chuckling in amusement, “i have to say, you at least have good taste, satoru. she’s excellent in and outside the classroom, it seems.”

“yeah, she’s a keeper,” satoru hums, cupping your cheek as he grins down at you, “now if you don’t mind, suguru, we’re in the middle of something.”

“and what do you plan on doing if this gets around?” professor geto raises a brow, unimpressed.

you look at him in panic at that—surely…surely he can’t mean that he would be the one to spread this around, right? surely he wouldn’t throw his best friend under the bus, correct? if not for you, then for satoru’s sake, he’d never let this information find another soul. otherwise…otherwise you’ll both lose everything. all the hard work and progress you’ve made, all of satoru’s experience and years building his career, and all the future opportunities you had coming up—all of it will be for nothing if professor geto says one word. 

people wouldn’t have a hard time believing it either, you think. sometimes your own friends like to poke fun at you themselves. 

you’re always with him, are you sure you’re not in love with the guy at this point? nobara always likes to snort at you.

why does professor gojo even keep you around? you’re too lazy—you must give good head, megumi tends to tease as he raises a brow with amused eyes.

with how often you’re in professor gojo’s room, you might as well have a crush on him, yuji sometimes giggles.

surely, with how often you’re seen in the coffee shop with him as he grades papers and how often he likes to tease you when you show up to his classroom sometimes to drop off papers, students would certainly take the rumors and spread them like wildfire if professor geto says even the littlest thing. 

you look at him with wobbly lips as you whisper, “please don’t tell anyone,” you sniffle, “i…maybe there’s something we can do…to keep you from…”

the two of them look at you in shock—they stare at you for a moment, stare at the crystalline tears welling up in your eyes, at the soft little tremor in your lips, at the sweet little sniffles you try to hide. then, as if in sync, their eyes meet each other’s before finding you once more.

“oh, that’s precious,” professor geto chuckles, “she really is a keeper, satoru—she even looks pretty when she cries. i’m almost jealous.”

“don’t look for too long, suguru,” satoru grumbles—and then, “listen, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry. suguru’s not gonna—”

“well, if there is something you’d wanna do for me,” professor geto cuts satoru off, his voice a low drawl as he walks closer, hand cupping your jaw as he tilts your face up, “i suppose i can keep my mouth shut.”

“anything,” you nod quickly.

you’re so eager to please, he thinks—so perfect and sweet and pliant, that suguru thinks he might actually really be jealous that somehow, it was satoru who caught your attention. how did this all start? when did it start? how long has it been going on? do you have real feelings for each other? or is it just a pleasurable business kind of deal? do you meet up outside of campus? does he take you to the next town over to freely walk around with you on dates? do you kiss sweetly sometimes instead of with hunger? have you ever spent a night in his bed? do you sleep better beside each other, wrapped in the other’s arms?

there are so many, many questions suguru wants to ask. the potential answers to all of them make him a bit more unhappy than he cares to admit. something in him wonders how things might’ve had to play out in order to land you in his office instead—but…but if you’re offering anything, why not take advantage of the offer?

“anything?” he asks, looking at you amused, “you know, princess, anything is a dangerous offer. what if i asked to join? what if i asked to fuck you here in this office so your secret is safe?”

you blink up at him for a moment at his words—they’re a bit shocking. professor geto…doesn’t think this is wrong? clearly, he doesn’t if he’s willing to take part. but that doesn’t sound half bad. not even in the slightest. 

they’re a popular pair: professor gojo and geto are all people on campus ever talk about. those two professors who happen to be best friends. they’re not much older than you either—can’t be past their early thirties, even if they don’t look a day over twenty. 

did you know they used to go to college together? i heard they’ve known each other since high school. apparently, they applied to work here together and only took the offer up once the other agreed. it’s all people ever gossip about when they mention them both. it’s always about how close they are, how deep their bond is, how there is never one without the other. and then, of course, there are those…the less than appropriate comments you occasionally hear the other girls make. i bet professor gojo gives the best head—he’s always sucking on some lollipop. i’d let professor geto do nasty things to me while i read his literature books out loud to him—he’s too fine. i can take both of them—and i don’t mean their classes. 

it’s…not exactly a bad offer that he gives you, you think to yourself. it’s an enticing one, in fact. you get to have them both—professor geto isn’t any less attractive than satoru and…and well, you’d really like for him to keep this a secret, so it’s a bit of a win-win. plus, you’re sure he wouldn’t risk spilling such delicate information when it would put his career at risk, too—it seems like the perfect leverage.

you look at your old literature professor with a nod as you murmur, “then i’d say you should make sure to lock the door this time—we don’t want to make the same mistake twice, do we?”

his eyes sparkle in amusement at that, a low chuckle falling from his pretty lips as he shakes his head at you—you’re even better than he expected. satoru is so, so lucky he’s got to have you to himself all this time. it’s criminally unfair. 

“hey,” satoru pouts from behind, still sitting in his chair and still painfully hard as his throbbing cock sits between his legs unattended. “you both are forgetting about me,” he whines.

professor geto—or rather, suguru, you suppose, only looks at his best friend in amusement. “now, satoru—what have i always told you about sharing? here—” he walks over and pulls satoru to stand before taking the seat himself and patting his thigh as he looks at you with a sly grin, “why don’t i get to feel your pussy, and satoru can have your mouth like before? then we both get what we want.”

“bossy as ever, suguru,” satoru chuckles, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker and more excited than you’ve ever seen them.

“get her ready for me,” suguru hums, fingers making quick work to unbuckle his belt and free his hardened cock. you can’t help but stare, can’t help but watch as he wraps his fist around his hardened length and runs his thumb through his slit with a low moan. 

he’s not as long, but he’s thicker than satoru—you can easily tell he won’t be any easier to take. you watch attentively as he traces the thick vein along the side of his cock with this thumb as he strokes upward, rolling around his tip before stroking down and squeezing at the base. you watch his lips tug between his teeth, a soft moan ripping from his throat as he touches himself in the way he likes best.

you’ll remember what he likes, you think—you can sense this might not be your first and last opportunity to see suguru like this. and next time? well, next time, it’ll be your hand touching his cock and pulling those pretty little sighs and groans from him instead of his own.

“eyes on me, sweetheart,” satoru hums, pulling you to stand before gently guiding your back to fall against his desk, fingers looping into your waistband and pulling your pants down your legs. you can hear the sharp inhale suguru takes as soon as the wetness of your folds is on display, as soon as your puffy clit and dripping pussy are there for him to see so clearly. “watch carefully, suguru,” satoru grins, “she’s pretty when she cums.”

“i can imagine,” suguru muses, “alright then. show me.”

instantly, satoru’s fingers are intruding into your cunt—it’s familiar, the sensation of his digits bullying past your folds and curling against your sweet spot. he’s already knuckles deep, already pressing the tips of his fingers into the back of your walls as far as they’ll go, spreading you open and scissoring you apart. it feels good—it always does, and when his palm rolls across your clit? you can’t help but let out a whiny moan that earns a groan from suguru as he fists his cock tighter. 

“god, she even sounds so pretty,” he pants, watching as satoru’s fingers slip in and out of your pretty cunt, at the way it all but sucks them in itself as it flutters around him. everything about you is perfect—but your face is by far suguru’s favorite. the way it twists with pleasure as satoru slams his fingers against your spot mercilessly with every thrust of his wrist has him fighting off his orgasm—his fist slowing down to a teasing edge as he grunts at the way he lets his pleasure die down for the sake of really feeling you. 

“that feel good, angel?” satoru asks, grinning down at you. 

you nod quickly, head thrown back against the wooden desk as you stutter, “y-yes…s-so good, toru.”

“toru?” suguru asks, “do i get a nickname too? make sure you come up with one for me, yeah?”

it’s almost like you don’t hear him, too busy on the way satoru drags along your walls with every time his fingers sink into you. “toru, toru—s-slow down, ‘m g-gonna…”

“slow down?” satoru gasps—his pace only quickens at that as he gives you a mocking pout, “you want me to slow down, sweetheart? you never ask me to slow down, it’s always faster, toru. faster, please! from you. you don’t wanna give suguru the wrong idea, do you? he’ll think i haven’t taught you how to take it like a good girl.”

suguru snorts at that, slowly dragging his hand up and down his sensitive cock—it’s red at the tip, flushed, and leaky enough that it’s easy to tell he’s aching for release.

“hurry up, satoru,” he grits, biting his lip as he fights back another orgasm and stills his hand, keeping it tightened around the base of his length, “we haven’t got all day.”

“can’t rush making my pretty girl cum, suguru,” satoru gasps, “she deserves the best. look at this pussy—” he gives pulls his fingers out to give your clit attention, rubbing your slick over the sensitive bud as you gasp, writhing over his desk, “—see how perfect it is? you gotta treat it like that too.”

as if from his words alone, as if you get off on the way satoru praises your cunt to his best friend who watches you get stuffed to the brim with his fingers, you whimper before cumming—your pussy fluttering around nothing, walls spasming and dripping with slick as he toys with your clit. 

“toru—toru, ‘m cumming…cumming—oh,” you babble, thighs quivering as his thumb doesn’t let up from your abused clit, watching as your hand reaches for his wrist weakly to halt his movements. “‘s too much,” you sniffle.

“too much?” suguru gasps, “how will you take me, then, princess? don’t tell me you’re tapping out already?”

“nah,” satoru grins, chuckling, “she’s got plenty left in her. she can take it.” with that, he hooks an arm under your waist and helps you sit up, leaning down to kiss you softly as you let out a muffled whine against his lips. “you’re ready for suguru, aren’t you, baby? prepped you nice and good to take him, didn’t i?”

you nod, mumbling a soft, “uh huh,” in agreement.

“that’s my good girl,” he coos, grinning as he presses a wet kiss to your forehead. 

suguru, patient as ever with a stiff, aching cock standing between his muscled thighs, holds an arm out for you as he murmurs, “c’mere then, princess. can’t back out of our deal yet, can you?” you walk over to him on wobbly legs, letting him pull you to sit on his lap, back flush against his chest as his hands guide your hips. he taps the head of his cock against your clit as he lines your entrance up with his length before pulling you to sit, slowly inching you down on him bit by bit as he gasps at the way you squeeze around him instantly. “h-holy—fuck, such a tight fuckin’ pussy. ‘s like i can barely even move,” he grunts, chin resting on your shoulder as he pants.

satoru walks over, staring down at you as you’re seated on suguru’s lap before cupping your cheek and rubbing over the soft skin with his thumb. “you can take both of us, right sweetheart? you’re just too good not to, aren’t ya?”

you nod eagerly, letting the tip of his cock tap against your lip, tongue moving to lick across his slit and make him groan. he’s painfully hard—cock swollen and neglected for so long, you almost forgot that he’s been waiting for your mouth to take him again after being interrupted. your jaw slacks as you let him thrust his hips and fuck his length into you, tip hitting the back of your throat as you choke around him. 

“fuck,” satoru hisses lowly, biting his lip as his hands grab your hair and keep you in place while he ruts into your mouth, “fuck, baby. never get tired of how good this mouth feels—takes me so fuckin’ well. jus’ love feelin’ me down your throat, huh?”

you can’t do anything but let out a muffled cry, feeling the fat tip of suguru’s cock nudge against your sweet spot—it’s just as effortless: the way he finds your most sensitive part. just as effortless as satoru. maybe that’s why they get along so well, maybe they’re connected in that way. 

“oh, princess,” suguru moans, panting against your ear as he lets out a breathy moan, “fuck, that’s good—so, good. can hardly move with the way you’re squeezing me. greedy little pussy, isn’t it?”

you whine as you feel his arm wrap around you, finger rolling over your puffy clit as his hips snap upwards and fuck into you, cock dragging along your walls and stretching you enough that you can hardly think straight. he’s big—it feels like he’s almost splitting you open with his girth as his hips roll up and sink him deeper into your cunt.

“she’s…she’s perfect,” suguru pants, “keepin’ this all to yourself? how selfish of you, satoru.”

“she’s mine,” satoru whines, cock pushing past your lips as he speaks, the way your tongue glides along his vein making his cheeks flush as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth falls open with a breathless moan. “she’s too good to share with you. you d-don’t deserve her.”

“yeah? and you do?” suguru chuckles—it sounds more like a labored pant, his breath harsh as he groans into your neck when you flutter particularly tightly around him, forehead falling to dig into your shoulder, “she’s suckin’ me in. think she wants me. don’t you, pretty girl? you want me to cum inside you, right? make you mine too?”

“y-yes,” you mewl, popping off satoru’s length as you whimper when suguru chuckles and gives your clit a light slap, back arching against him as he pushes his cock past your folds again, “yes, wan’ it. wan’ it so, so bad—need it.”

“see,” he raises a brow towards satoru, “knew it.”

you can see the way satoru’s cock twitches at that—at the way you fall apart on suguru’s lap as the latter digs his head into your shoulder as he breathes harshly, chasing his release desperately as he ruts into your slick pussy. you can see the way satoru’s tip is flushed a harsh red, leaking with pre cum as he aches to spill cum down your throat, so you let him push past your lips once more—but not before giving his tip a delicate kiss. 

“she’s my girl,” satoru grunts, “mine, mine, mine—knows how to make me cum. kn-knows how to take me so good, right baby?”

and as if to answer him, you suck around his tip, swallowing around his length and making him groan as his hips stutter and cum paints your throat white as it fills your mouth. you try to swallow every drop, try to take what he gives you as he fucks into you desperately and chases the pleasure of his high. thick, hot ropes of cum spill from the corners of your lips as satoru fucks his load into you, panting as his hips sloppily roll and work himself through his orgasm.

“that’s right, sweetheart,” he groans lowly, “take it, yeah? god—fuck, feels so good, baby. ‘m c-cumming.”

you make a sound between a choked whine and sharp gasp as suguru’s thumb rubs harshly against your swollen clit, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he groans, hips just as sloppy as satoru’s in his pace that it tells you he’s close too—and then he twitches into your pussy, cock burying into you once, twice, three more times before he groans too.

“gonna cum, princess? ‘cause ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum—fill you up and make you mine. you want that right? want me to—f-fuck, fuck ‘m close, so close,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, letting out a needy whine into your skin before spilling into you. you can feel hot, thick ropes of cum paint your walls as his tip nudges back into you and pushes his load as deep as he can.

and you fall apart too, coming undone a second time as your walls hug around him tightly, head falling back as you mewl a high pitched, “s-sugu—c-can’t…’s too much—”

“you can take it, pretty,” he hums, “know you can. you’re too precious not to, right?”

it’s messy—it’s downright filthy, in fact, the way his cum and your slick mix and drip along your inner thighs, making a mess on satoru’s chair. you pant as your pussy pulses around him before coming down from your high, falling slack in his arms against his chest as he chuckles and presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“fuck,” he breathes, “you’re something else. who’d have thought my favorite little student from a previous semester could do all that?”

“isn’t she a dime?” satoru chuckles proudly, reaching for the corner of your mouth with his thumb, collecting a stray drop of cum and pushing it back past your lips and onto your tongue, humming approvingly as you swallow. “precious, isn’t she?”

“of course,” suguru nods, with a grin, leaning to peck your shoulder, “so, tell me. which professor would you take again?”

satoru purses his lips as he glares. “this isn’t rate my professor, suguru. and don’t get used to thi—”

“well,” you hum, interrupting as you bat your lashes sweetly at both of them, “why i can’t just take both of you again?”

guess who’s posting their october first kinktober fic literally 40 mins before it’s october second ?? if it’s not procrastinated, it’s not reached its full potential

[astraystayyh]

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

part two

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ‘Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

[stu-dyingstudent]

Sakura Haruno fic recs: romance-centric

I, like many others, definitely enjoy a a good romance every so often. All of these recs are going to have the romantic development of the characters as the forefront of the story, so just because the fic includes a ship doesn't mean it will go on the list. That means, many of them might feel more on the slice of life side of the spectrum, but that's not the case for all!!

There is going to be a mix of ships here so if you're interested in one in specific then use the search feature!

Started: 2024.08.28

Last Updated: 2024.09.28

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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To Build a Home - RedPowder || ao3 || E || kakasaku || canon divergence || ongoing

Sakura and Kakashi are assigned a mission that will change the path of their lives forever.

Kakashi and Sakura are forced to marry on orders from the village and I know that description sounds dumb, but trust me when I say this fic is gold. I've always had a hard time with kakasaku fics because I feel the whole teacher/student thing gets swept under the rug too easily, but that's not the case here. Their past relationship from team 7 is a glaring shadow over their marriage and the guilt over the whole situation weighs heavy on Kakashi. This mission isn't easy for either of them and it takes a lot of pull and tug to ensure things don't completely blow up. To Build a Home is probably one of my favorite takes on this ship as the portrayal feels realistic and the character feel accurate to themselves. Just give it a go!

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Approaching Sun - ANerdInAllHerGlory || ffn || T || sasusaku || blank period || ongoing

After 2 years, Sasuke returns to the village where friends anxiously await him. Still troubled by the mysteries of Kaguya and his personal guilt, Sasuke is split between friends and his journey. Troubled by rising casualties and international dependence on her abilities, Sakura is torn between her love for Sasuke and her duty to her village.

Approaching Sun is probably one of the most realistic depictions of Sasuke and Sakura's relationship that I have read. This takes place during the blank period and references the novels, so it feels like an actual possibility of what went down. As much as I love them, I have a hard time believing that their relationship was smooth sailing and so I think this is an interesting take.

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The Fool - thekatthatbarks || ao3 || T || shikasaku || blank period || complete

Ino kicked at a pebble on the ground, her arms folded across her chest. “How long?” Shikamaru sighed and pulled the cigarette away from his lips. “The war." It was a lie somewhat. He’d liked her since they were kids but had simply ignored the budding crush expecting it to fade over time. It hadn’t and by the time the war came around, he accepted he would always carry it despite his increasing efforts to drop it. He’d tried drowning it in the river, burning it in a fire, covering it up with something else. But it was all to no avail. It stuck with him, always apart of him. “Have you ever told anyone? Chouji? Her?” "No."

I actually really like Shikamaru and Sakura as a pairing (or just working together in general); however, I haven't read much of them. The Fool was a great post-war read where with some meddling (curtesy of Ino) we get to watch the progression of their relationship into something more than friends.

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Nightmare in Red - Sariasprincy || ao3 || M || itasaku || non-massacre AU || complete

Haruno Sakura used to think the eyes were the windows to the soul, but after witnessing the horrors of the Sharingan firsthand, she's convinced they are the doors. It was pure chance that led Sakura to the discovery of the disease eating through Uchiha Itachi's lungs and now that she's aware, she knows she cannot just turn a blind eye. But how is she to treat the very man who tortured her while at the same time keep her nightmares from consuming her? That she doesn't know, but she knows she has to try, even if it nearly kills her in the end.

Itachi unintentionally captures Sakura in his mangekyou after being rolled into the hospital for her to heal. While Sakura tries to work through the impacts of the genjutsu she continues to work with him in an effort to cure him of the disease infecting his body. I actually really liked how the whole thing played out. Itachi's sickness was sort of a mystery in the original series and so I found it rather interesting to see what was done in regards to it. Anyway, I love their interactions and Shisui is (like always) a great character as well.

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Blind - ObsidianSickle || ffn || sasusaku || T || canon divergent || complete

It was almost time, Orochimaru was going to take his body as a vessel. He hated being used...he refused to be used. With that thought, he took the kunai in his hand and slashed across his eyes.

I won't lie, Sakura is pretty weak in Blind and the whole thing is super cheesy, but it's still an enjoyable read.

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Ghosts - ElegiesforShiva || ffn || sausaku || M || blank period || incomplete

In love and loss, it often comes back to family, and Team 7 had always been fated, hadn't they? Deny it as she may, Sakura finds her heart strung to them with an uncanny reverence and the weight of their ghosts. Sakura-centric. Heavy, heavy angst. Slow burn Sasusaku. Canon pairings. Lots of friendship feels. Eventual (consensual) lemon.

Ghosts is a pretty dark read where basically everyone is suffering. Sasuke and Sakura in specific have an especially hard time coping with their individual struggles yet they find comfort in each other. Check TWs before going in

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Home is Where the Heart is - DeepPoeticGirl || ffn || sasusaku || T || blank period || complete

And with every moment together, they get just a little closer, a little more comfortable with each other. Fall a little more in love. Post-war. Pre-epilogue.

This fic is actually adorable! Taking place during the black period we get to see how Sasuke and Sakura's relationship slowly progresses. If you've always wondered what their travels were like then definitely check this one out.

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In Times of Peace - SouthSideStory || ffn || sasusaku || M || blank period || canon divergent || complete

The war is over, and like Konoha, Team 7 has rebuilt itself from the ground up. Everything has changed, but Sasuke and Sakura remain much the same. Eleven years, she thinks, is a long time to be in love.

Sakura and Sasuke have like a secret relationship going on. Also, Sakura as a jonin sensei is so good!! I really wish that someone from the original cast actually went down that route, but whatever.

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Labyrinthine - FM_White || ao3 || itasaku || M || canon divergence || complete

ItaSaku (Post Uchiha Massacre) AU: Some things are destined to be. It just takes a couple of tries to get there.ItaSaku. Light KakaSaku.

I actually really liked how this was done as team 7 is still a family, Sasuke didn't lose his mind, Itachi picked a much more respectable path imo, and the characters are all adults.

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Only a Crush by Gingersoup || ao3 || kakasaku || M || canon divergent || complete

It was supposed to be an easy, fun night out. She never intended to wake up in her sensei's bed, half-naked and with no memory of what happened the night before! As she tries to unravel the mystery of that night, something sinister is growing beyond the walls of the Leaf Village... and what was only a crush spirals wildly out of control.

Sakura is unwillingly thrust into the world of illegal drugs, trafficking, and sex all while coming to terms with her new feelings regarding her former sensei. I typically don't like kakasaku, but I think this work is done tastefully well. The characters are both adults and the immorality of the relationship is not ignored, so be prepared for a lot of "we can't," "this is wrong," etc.. Anyway, Sakura is an absolute powerhouse and I thoroughly enjoyed the relationship between all of the different characters and villages!

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Dreaming's End - thepiedsniper || ao3 || T || kakasaku || canon divergence || complete

Sakura didn't avoid the Infinite Tsukuyomi with the others, and all the events that happened afterward were simply the product of her dream-state. When Sakura finally wakes up from years spent in her personal "paradise," she must to learn how to start again. Kakashi is there to help her. ~*~ (TWs for genjutsu-related unreality)

Basically, imagine the entirety of Boruto was Sakura's dream in Infinite Tsukuyomi. When Sakura manages to breakout during the war she's left to deal with serious ramifications of the life she just lived. She finds herself constantly questioning what's real and Kakashi tries to help her through it.

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Mamihlapinatapai - FM_White || ao3 || E || itasaku || canon divergence || ongoing

Mamihlapinatapai・Yagan. (n.) a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something they both desire, but which neither wants to begin In which Sakura tries her hardest to raise one hell of a rambunctious baby by herself, Sasuke is searching for something unknown, and Itachi is the uncle.

In another life where Itachi doesn't end up dying and instead tries his best to help Sakura raise his niece in Sasuke's absence. It's my head canon that everyone came together to help with Sarada just like they did for Kuranai, and so Mamihlapinatapi satisfies that thought for me. I like how Sasuke was criticized in this since as much as I understand the necessity of what he's doing, I also find it completely unfair to his wife and daughter. Itachi and Sakura form a great bond and it's all very domestic and just super fluffy all around, which I love.

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Louder than Words - SouthSideStory || ao3 || T || sasusaku || non-massacre AU || complete

Sakura hasn’t uttered a single word since the day her family died, but Sasuke is determined to hear her, one way or another. (No Uchiha massacre AU.)

Sakura gets taken in by the Uchiha family after Fugaku finds her on a mission. She's been mute ever since, but that doesn't stop her and Sasuke from forming a close bond.

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Snake Bound - shefalls || ao3 || E || sasusaku || canon divergence || complete

"You... took me with you." "That's what I said." "To Orochimaru. You took me with you, to Orochimaru." Sasuke nodded curtly and shoved the medical kit a little more insistently into her hands. Sakura accepted, and prayed to every known god that Orochimaru would ignore her existence. She should've known the gods don't listen. Now only on AO3. Sequel up.

What if Sasuke took Sakura with him like she asked? Snake Bound explores that idea and it's honestly a very uncomfortable read. Their relationship is based off of the isolation and dependency their new situation puts them in. All they really have is each other and the new bond that brings is not a healthy one.

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Armour-Sleeved Single Hit - thatdamnuchiha || ao3 || T || madasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Sasuke always told Sakura she was weak. Even after she trained with Tsunade for years he only had eyes for Naruto whom he considered strong. She would forever be invisible to him no matter how many mountains she toppled.Being a member of Team Seven despite Sasuke’s refusal to acknowledge her meant she got herself into her fair share of sticky situations. Getting stuck a hundred odd years in the past had to take the cake though.But she was just a weak little girl and compared to the shinobi of old she’d be ridiculously pathetic. Sasuke had said she was weak to him – a modern day shinobi who hadn’t been forced into battle after battle like they did in the Warring Clans Era. Obviously she’d be nothing more than a spec of dirt in the eyes of the Founders.

Sakura manages to find herself in founding-era Konoha! While trying to prove that medical ninja are capable fighters she unknowingly gains the affection of Madara Uchiha. After all, the Uchiha find beauty in strength. Super cute read!

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Always You - alex-halcyon || ffn || T || kakasaku || age swap AU || complete

[AU. Age-swap] Kakashi x Sakura. From academy days to the third shinobi war and beyond, Kakashi and Sakura grow up and fall in love.

Basically, Sakura takes Rin's place on the old team 7. The progression between the character is quite interesting as it definitely isn't smooth sailing for Kakashi and Sakura. However, even through everything they find themselves drifting towards each other. Pretty cute imo.

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interim - stannide || ao3 || T || sasusaku || blank period || one-shot complete

Sasuke lives with Sakura in the weeks after the war.

Interim is such a wholesome read where Sasuke and Sakura rekindle their former relationship. Super fluffy

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Hit Me With Your Best Shot - Tozette || ao3 || T || sasusaku || blank period || one-shot complete

Sasuke is actually eighteen the first time he looks at Sakura and realises abruptly that he wants her.

I think we all know by now that Sasuke has always been attracted to strength, power, so why not when it comes to romance? Essentially, one day on a mission, Sasuke discovers he has a strength kink. Watching him continuously get flustered throughout the fic because of his admiration towards Sakura's strength is so entertaining. Really fun read

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the problem with how time works - MurderMittens || ao3 || E || kakasaku || generation swap AU || complete

"I don't remember you being this uncomfortable when Kakashi was nine and had a crush on you," Ino pointed out neutrally. "You thought it was flattering before." She moved to pour more wine into their glasses as Sakura exhaled sharply out of her nostrils. "Obviously! It was fucking cute when he was a kid! But now he's..." she trailed off, gesticulating feebly. Ino, taking pity on her, finished the sentence: "Now he's a stone cold hottie who looks and sounds like he'd murder the ever-loving shit out of your vagina."

Sakura and Kakashi's generations swap place and boy is it entertaining. With Naruto as his sensei, of course Kakashi has met Sakura. Now that she's back in the village after years, Kakashi decides to try his best to win her over.

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on still water - summersirius || ao3 || T || shisaku || canon divergence || complete

and sometimes, there are days without rain. —shisui/sakura

I'm actually devastated that the author decided to not pursue the plot line after about chapter 15 (it was so good too), but On Still Water is great nonetheless. Some really cute Shisui x Sakura moments

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never let 'em know your next move - MirrorImage003 || ao3 || T || itasaku || non-massacre AU || one-shot complete

six times itachi is surprised by sakura, and the one time he's surprised by his mother.

Sort of drabble style moments between Itachi and Sakura and it's honestly adorable.

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Hatsukoi - sparklyfaerie || ao3 || sasusaku || gen || non-massacre AU || complete

Sasuke leans away as the girl turns to him, and his mother doesn't need to be any closer to guess as to the expression on his face. The girl's body language changes in an instant, and Mikoto recognizes the posture of a little girl in love. It's kind of adorable.

Probably one of the cutest sasusaku fics I have read as Hatsukoi follows them from genin to marriage! It's told in multiple perspectives and it's full of tooth rotting fluff. You get to watch the slow progression of their relationship over time and how they grow even closer in Naruto's absence. Definitely read is you want something light!

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(oh, you'll probably go to heaven) please don't hang your head & cry - SafelyCapricious || ao3 || T || itasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

There’s no such thing as a good death. But Sakura faces her death without any regrets. Her dying is keeping her precious people safe — and that’s all she can ask for. So she dies with a smile, taking thousands of enemies with her. She wakes up and falls off the branch she’s laying on.

More of a pre-ship than anything actually romantic, so maybe this isn't the best for this list lmao.

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Send me some recs if you have any to share! I'm generally fine with any ship as long as the story is good :)

[junrenjun]

love and lacrosse jackets

pe teacher!vernon x chemistry teacher!reader (fem)

genre: fluff

wc: 3k

warnings: reader is referred to as ms. (and other fem pronouns), reader wears vernon's clothes

a/n: this is not an understand series update and i apologize for that. however, here's a vernon teacher au with a little side of lacrosse and dad!seungcheol

You were suddenly thrown out of your thoughts by one of your students sighing and turning from her worksheet. “Ms. y/n, can I ask a question?” 

You knew this student, Maya, was likely trying to get out of doing her assignment. She was too smart for her own good. “Depends. Is it about the worksheet?” 

She paused for a second, turning her head slightly away in order to avoid your gaze. “...no.”

You continued. “Do you need to go to the bathroom or the nurse?”

Maya sighed and mumbled, “no.”

You turned back to your computer while giving your final response. “Then I think you know the answer. I would be happy to talk to you once you’ve balanced all those equations.” 

You should’ve known she wasn’t giving up that easily. If anything, she probably gave up halfway through the worksheet because she knew the answers and was just looking for something to entertain herself. “Mr. Chwe lets us ask him questions all the time.”

You snorted. “Mr. Chwe is a PE teacher Maya. You don’t have worksheets to do in his classes. Unfortunately, you do in chemistry. So please finish this or at least study for your quiz next week.” 

Maya was apparently taken aback by this. She was quick to defend herself, saying, “how do you know we don’t do worksheets in PE?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Maybe you should've been a college professor instead of a high school teacher. “I’m the girls lacrosse coach and he’s the boys coach. We spend a lot of time together and I’ve never once seen him make a worksheet.” 

An evil grin spread across Maya’s face. You internally groaned at this. That expression means she’s up to absolutely no good. She turned and tapped on her partner’s arm. Great, now she’s distracting other students too. “Henry, wouldn’t Ms. y/n and Mr. Chwe make a cute couple?” He grinned and started going off on a tangent about how funny it would be if the two lacrosse coaches were dating. 

This conversation really took a turn for the worse, didn’t it? There’s nothing you could do but groan, out loud this time, and put your head in your hands. Your neighboring teacher, Mr. Seokmin, really has impeccable timing though. He stuck his head through your door and grabbed your attention a few moments later. “Hey Ms. y/n, do you have a student that can run an errand for me real quick?”

Now was your chance. “Maya, since you seem to have no interest in balancing any more equations, why don’t you go help Mr. Seokmin?”

Before she could protest, the physics teacher grinned brightly at her before exclaiming, “perfect! Come on Maya, I need someone to help me carry these projects to the library.” Once she was finally out of the room, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

It didn’t last long though because your other students suddenly started giggling and murmuring amongst each other. Henry, who was still turned toward you, decided he needed to continue Maya’s antics in her absence. “You did say you and Mr. Chwe were close.” More giggles were heard. 

You’re not sure what you did to deserve this treatment from your 3rd hour honors class of all people, but clearly it was something. “Alright if you all don’t go back to your work I’m not offering any extra credit on this next quiz.” The rest of the hour passed in silence. 

“What’s with the long face?” Vernon thought the joking would cheer his best player up, but it just made Henry frown even more. 

After a few moments of silence, he finally answered, “I had a quiz in chemistry today. Don’t think I did too well on it.”

Vernon was quick to ask him which teacher he had. “Your favorite, Ms. y/n,” Henry responded. 

The PE teacher rolled his eyes at the comment but still clapped his hand on the player’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine, kid. She offers extra credit. But she also told me you and Maya were pestering her the other day instead of doing your work, so maybe you should put a little more effort into understanding the material next time.”

Henry grumbled, knowing nothing good would come of an argument. “Yeah, whatever you say Coach.” Then, he dropped his bag on the ground and ran out onto the field to start warming up.

Vernon felt someone approach him from behind. “See dude, even the kids can pick up on you and y/n’s chemistry. Haha, get it? Chemistry? Y/n teaches chemistry.” The head coach could barely restrain himself from flicking Mingyu in the forehead. He was a great assistant coach, but an incredibly annoying friend. 

“Why can’t I just be friends with a coworker and fellow lacrosse coach?” Vernon complained. Mingyu simply watched on as his friend continued. “Just because we’re both single doesn’t mean we should get together. I mean she’s really cool and works really well with the kids. And she’s an insane lacrosse player, an even better coach too. I think she could get the girls to state this year. I just think…” He’s cut off by Mingyu smacking his arm. 

For once, he’s grateful for the assistant coach’s intrusion, because he turns around to find you jogging up to him. Weird, he thought to himself, since you and the girls have a game today. You skid to a stop next to the two, and make eye contact with him. “You don’t happen to have an extra SVHS shirt do you? I think I forgot my coaching shirt at home today and I really don’t want Seungcheol getting on my ass for it.” 

Vernon’s world comes crashing down at that moment. Maybe he does have a teensy little crush on you. Because the thought of you wearing his clothes has him swooning. Mingyu, ever so helpful, snaps him out of the moment by clearing his throat to yell at the boys for messing around. Vernon blinks at you for a second before stammering out, “uh yeah I think so,” and reaching into his bag. He pulls out a gray quarter zip with the words “SVHS” and “Coach Chwe” embroidered on the chest. He debates hiding it from your sight and shoving it back in his bag to save you both the embarrassment, but he knows how strict Seungcheol is as an athletic director. 

He eventually tosses it to you, stuttering out something about good luck while watching you throw it over your head. Once it’s on you say, “I have the same one, so hopefully no one sees the difference. Thanks Chwe.” He can’t even process your words because his brain is simply malfunctioning seeing you in his clothes, especially ones that say his name. He’s no better than his high schoolers. Before he knows it, you’re turning on your heel and jogging back to the main field. 

Someone comes up behind him, filling Mingyu’s absence, since the assistant coach ran off to lead practice drills in the middle of Vernon’s little crisis. He hears the lacrosse captain snickering and then telling him, “damn Coach, you’ve got it bad. You’re redder than a tomato.”

Vernon simply cannot handle it any further. “Oscar, for heaven’s sake, please shut your mouth and go back to practice.” Oscar throws his hands up in mock defense, before grabbing the ball that rolled over to Vernon’s feet and running back onto the field.

You really need to give Vernon his coach’s jacket back. It didn’t help that you weren’t a morning person, and seemed to accidentally leave it at home whenever you left for work each day. It also maybe didn’t help that it smelled just like the boy’s lacrosse coach, who, admittedly, smelled pretty damn good. But, you couldn’t hoard Vernon’s things forever. You were lucky enough that you had gone a week without him mentioning the jacket at all, which you chalked up to him knowing you were busy.

Tomorrow, you told yourself. Tomorrow you would take the jacket back to school and give it to him. You even laid it out with your own jacket, which you were going to wear the next since you had a game anyways. That, however, was a mistake. Because in the morning, groggy from lack of sleep, you accidentally threw on Vernon’s jacket and shoved your own into your work bag. 

How no one told you until 3rd period, you’re not quite sure. Mainly because Seokmin had specifically complimented your outfit when you visited him before your first class. You thought maybe it was because you were wearing a new pair of pants. Clearly it was not and the physics teacher was using it as a means to tease you (and Vernon by proxy). If only you had known.

Maya stepped into your classroom extra peppy that day, which was already a recipe for disaster. The fact that she was the one to catch that you were wearing Mr. Chwe’s zip-up certainly did not help. A gasped “oh my god” stopped you in the middle of your lecture. You pointedly looked at the girl before asking, “Maya, is everything alright?”

The poor girl could barely contain her excitement, practically shaking in her seat. “You’re dating Mr. Chwe! I knew it!”

You were caught so off-guard that it took you a while to respond. “Maya, where did you even get that idea from? And you’re being disruptive, I’m trying to teach about equilibrium.” 

She stood from her seat and pointed at you, before excitedly exclaiming, “your jacket. You’re wearing Mr. Chwe’s jacket!” You looked down and, sure enough, Vernon’s name was plastered across the chest. To put it plainly, you were mortified. In fact, you’re pretty sure you’ve embarrassed yourself even more when you don’t respond for a solid minute. 

Finally, when you’re done wallowing in pity in front of a bunch of 16 year olds, you make your way to your desk and pull out a hall pass. You hand it to Maya swiftly before telling her, “if you’re too invested in this to learn chemistry, go bother Mr. Chwe about it. It’s his planning period.” She gapes up at you before scrambling out of the room.

You turn back to the rest of the class, making sure to pointedly look at Henry. “No other questions about my love life?”

A deadly silence spreads across the room. Henry sinks back in his chair but you watch a hand creep up from the back of the classroom. You sigh and call on the girl. She’s clearly surprised you even allowed her to speak, because the question is whispered to the point you can barely hear it. “Why do you have Mr. Chwe’s jacket?”

The inquiry is enough to throw you off the deep end. “Ok, I’m not teaching the rest of class. I don’t care what you guys do as it’s either A) not disruptive or B) asking me about my personal life.” 

Seungcheol is surprised when there is a knock on the athletic office door in the middle of 3rd period. Students should be in class and if it were a staff member, they would have just let themselves in. He tells whoever it is to come in and is slightly less surprised to see Maya standing in front of him. She doesn’t let him speak first, quickly letting out, “do you know where Mr. Chwe is?”

He raises an eyebrow at the girl. “You got a hall pass kid?” he fires back. Maya waves the piece of paper around in his face. He rolls his eyes. 

She puts her hands on her hips and looks pointedly at him. “Seriously though. Do you know where Mr. Chwe is? It’s supposed to be his planning period or something.”

Seungcheol is still confused why she needs to see Vernon in the middle of 3rd hour and how she managed a hall pass for it. “Why?”

Maya plops down on the chair in front of his desk with a sigh, clearly this conversation was not happening without a little bit of a fight. “Ms. y/n sent me to ask him a question.”

The athletic director can’t help but let out a snort at the girl’s comment. Maya is suddenly interested in his reaction. “Why is that so funny? Do you think they’re dating too?”

Seungcheol is surprised yet again. “Do you think they’re dating?”

Now Maya snorts. “Obviously. Ms. y/n is wearing his lacrosse jacket today.” She laughs when the man’s eyes practically bulge out of his skull. He rustles around his desk, grabbing a notepad and writing another hall pass for the girl.

After scribbling for a second, he passes the note to the girl and tells her, “Mr. Chwe is in his office, room 218.”

The girl grabs the note from his hands and gleefully gets up to skip out the door. She stops midway through and calls out over her shoulder, “thanks Dad!”

“I’m not dating Ms. y/n, Maya. You know that.” Vernon sighs exasperatedly. “Why are you even asking me this?”

He knows he’s in for trouble when she smirks. “She’s wearing your coaching jacket today. Care to explain that?”

Vernon knows he should’ve asked for it back sooner rather than later. But he was secretly hoping that he would be able to see it on you one more time. And the longer you have it, the more likely it’s going to come back smelling like you (not that Vernon cares anyways right?). He doesn’t miss a beat though, explaining to Maya that he lent you his jacket for a game and that you probably mixed it up with your own. She’s not impressed, but she knows it’s an explanation that’s most likely true. This doesn’t stop her from interrogating Vernon further. “Do you want to date Ms. y/n?”

His silence is incriminating. He can tell by Maya’s mile wide grin. Trying to put an end to it, the lacrosse coach stands up from his desk, telling her that he’ll walk her back to whatever class she left from.

One tiny important detail he forgot is that you teach 3rd hour honors chemistry. A class that one of his players, Henry, shares with Maya. And he’s currently standing outside your door, watching as you type away on your computer. Sure enough, “Mr. Chwe” is embroidered across the chest. Vernon thinks he might combust on the spot. His student clearly picks up on this, muttering something about how she’s “seen middle schoolers with more balls.” 

He waits outside your door as Maya enters the room. There’s only a few minutes left of the period, so he figured it would be better for both of you to talk away from prying eyes. As the bell rings, he patiently watches the students trickle out your door. When he’s sure that everyone is gone, he steps into the doorway. What he does not expect is for you to walk straight into his chest, stumbling back with the cutest “oomph” he’s ever heard. 

Vernon is stunned but you look completely mortified. Probably because you just ran into the man whose jacket you’re wearing basically without his consent. His assumption is correct because you start mumbling out apologies. “I’m so sorry I thought this was my jacket when I grabbed it this morning. I didn’t mean to wear it today, I made such a mess of this. I shouldn’t have even asked for it in the first place. I was just about to change, give me a second I…”

The lacrosse coach cuts you off in the middle of your little rant. “Do you want to go out with me after your game on Friday?” 

You blink at him, not even processing the words he just said. When you finally do, your cheeks flush and you glance down at your watch. “Do you think you can ask me that in like 4 hours, Chwe?”

Vernon has no idea what you mean by that. He gawks a little bit. Do you need time to think about it? Are you not interested? Do you already have a boyfriend? Shit, he should’ve thought this through.

You break him out of his little trance with a small chuckle. “We’re on the clock Vernon. And you have a class in three minutes.” 

He glances at his watch. His freshman PE class is probably waiting for him. He mumbles something about meeting him on the main field before practice. Then he’s out the door. You’re left there, stunned, still in his jacket. You don’t bother to take it off the rest of the day.

A few hours later, Mingyu and Seokmin are watching you both converse from afar. Vernon’s cheeks are the reddest they’ve ever been. You’re fidgeting nervously but also smiling. It seems to be going well. Seokmin turns to the assistant coach before saying, “took them long enough.”

They hear someone approaching and turn to see Seungcheol. “You both owe me $20.” 

Both the teachers roll their eyes at him but reach for their wallets. Maya pops up from their other side, walking up to her father. “I should be getting at least half of that. I did all the work.” 

Seungcheol grunts, pondering her proposition. He turns to her. “What about this? You can either get $20 now or $200 if y/n is Mrs. Chwe before you graduate college?”

Maya’s eyes brighten and that sinister smile spreads across her cheeks once again. “Deal.” (She’s $200 richer at her college graduation).

[lemon-lime-limbo]

𝖎𝖘 𝖎𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖆𝖙? | 𝖆 𝖇𝖓𝖍𝖆 𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙

pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn! reader

warnings: COLLEGE AU, reader does have a female roommate, reader is a nursing major, idk probably ooc bakugou ngl, soft! bakugou, bakugou has hyperhidrosis, possible tw for medical scenarios (no needles, just mentions of stuff like that), jirou and denki are dating teehee

genre: fluff

word count: 2.4k

note: i typed this so fast that my fingers started locking up LMAO anyway bakugou with hyperhidrosis is my guilty pleasure i love it so much and also can u tell i took medical classes... i tried to make it accessible but also flex my knowledge. enjoy!

When your professor told you about your upcoming project a few classes ago, you sighed in annoyance. You loved being a nursing major, and medical labs came easily to you. But those labs were always done with classmates, and your professor supposed you needed to work with fresh patients, ones you hadn’t gotten accustomed to. A valid suggestion, although it then tasked you with finding six willing participants. And as one can imagine, those were few and far between, and tracking down a sixth person was proving to be much more difficult than you had hoped.

You had already done the lab on your two neighbors you shared a kitchen with, your roommate, Kyoka Jirou, and also her boyfriend, Denki, who was just happy to be there. However, you were still one short. Denki offered to ask his friends to help, and although you were grateful, you couldn’t imagine any of them would be willing to be a test subject for a stranger, and you can’t say you would feel much differently in their position, so you declined. Of course, you could always fake it and just make up random data, but your professor was monitoring how many people you brought into the lab via a sign-in sheet, so you had to use real people.

After class, you went back to your dorm to mope about your future bad grade on your assignment. “Hey,” Kyoka said from her bed, back against the wall with her boyfriend’s head in her lap. 

That was when you saw him. Slouched down in your twin-sized loft bed filled to the brim with stuffed animals was Denki’s hot blonde friend, Katsuki Bakugou. You had gotten only a few chances to speak to him at Denki’s dorm parties, but from what he told you, aside from his general lack of complaisance, Bakugou was a fun person to be around. Aggressive, but still good company, apparently. He was your party crush that would sometimes talk to you. You were too scared to ask for his number, and he always disappeared promptly after every party. But while he was there, his eyes never left you.

Today, he wore an oversized black hoodie, and his baggy black pants had multiple straps hanging from them. One leg dangled over the edge of your mattress, his clunky black boots on the floor by your desk, buried in the fur of your fluffy rug. He didn’t seem to notice you, his eyes glued to his phone screen with his other arm casually behind his head.

You were embarrassed, both by your messy side of the room, and by all the stuffed animals on your bed. He clearly didn’t care, however, squashing quite a few plushies under his body, their plastic eyes bulging out of fluffy sockets. 

Dodging wads of clothes and cords from musical equipment, you made your way to your desk to set your backpack down, dodging his leg as you ducked under the loft bed. “You, um… You didn’t tell me we would have company…” you said to Kyoka, wishing you had dressed up a bit more for your previous class. You always expected her boyfriend to be over, but this was definitely a surprise. She knew you found him attractive, but you’re not sure she grasped the real gravity of the situation.

She laughed sheepishly. “Sorry… But I do have good news.”

“Go on.” You kicked off your own shoes onto your rug before trying to gather up some of the papers on your desk to help with the mess.

“Well, it took a bit of convincing, and a bit of bribery, but Denki found you a final person!” You turned to see her doing jazz-hands from her bed. 

Your eyes widened. “You don’t mean-”

She nodded, a devious smile on her face. “You got it. Meet Denki’s friend from high school.” If you hadn’t been staring right at her in shock, you would have missed the wink she shot at you. 

“Nice to see you,” you said after taking a moment to regain your composure, looking over the edge of your bed at him. He gave you a nod in acknowledgement, eyes snapping to yours and trailing downwards. You looked away awkwardly, feeling like a museum exhibit.

“I know you told me not to ask my friends,” Denki said, sitting up with a yawn. “But I couldn’t help myself.”

You wished you could be mad at him for going against your wishes, but you were just glad to finally be able to finish your project and to not have to scrounge campus for a semi-willing participant. Even though his choice of victim seemed to be a challenge to see how professional you can keep yourself. “Well, thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.” You leaned against one of the wooden posts of your bed frame. “I definitely owe you one!”

His eyes darted from yours nervously. “Let’s wait until after you do your thing to decide that…” Denki just hoped you wouldn’t kill him when you got back to your dorm. In fact, he was already running through ideas and excuses to not be there when you did get back.

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head with a suspicious squint.

An aggravated sigh drew your attention to your bed above you. “Where are we going for your little experiment?” Bakugou said.

You frowned at the thought of it being an experiment. While technically your project was science, as all nursing is, this assignment wasn’t anything more than gathering data and practicing your application of the techniques you learned. An experiment would entail a hypothesis and more focus on the science aspects. You almost made the clarification, but you lost your nerve when you looked at him again. “The lab is right by building B,” you said. “It’s open now, if you want to-”

“Fine.” He jumped off your bed before you could react and yanked his boots on. “Let’s go,” he grumbled, pulling harshly on the side zippers as you took a few seconds to process what had just occurred.

You hurried to put your own shoes on before he walked out the door, almost leaving you in the dust as you rushed to catch up to him after grabbing your backpack. Once outside, you were grateful you wore your jacket, the brisk air whipping around and stinging your cheeks as the sun went down. You walked next to each other, and you were determined to make this as transactional as possible, no matter what the heart threatening to erupt out of your ribs was saying. And it had very much to say, you found out. You didn't want to be presumptuous, and he was only supposed to help you with your assignment and be on his way, but it became increasingly difficult to keep the heat out of your face. You hardly noticed Bakugou’s soft jangling, the chains and straps on his pants rattling together, or the way his eyes occasionally fixed themselves on you, yours stuck down at the sidewalk under your feet. 

Building B was the building closest to your dorm, to which you were extremely grateful. It only took a few minutes of awkward silence to get there. You fumbled to grab your keycard out of the pocket of your jeans, the beep of the machine echoing through the small alcove as you pressed your card against it.

The large glass doors slid open soundlessly and you walked in, the stuffy room between the next set of doors so insulated from any sounds all you could hear was your own breathing. Through the second set was the medical lab, the large panels of windows casting a sunset glow over the equipment that had been left out. Community lab coats hung on a hook by the door. Several small doors lined the circular room, each door leading to a separate room for practicing medical exams. The sign-up sheet for your class was posted on a clipboard on the countertop beside a sink. 

Boxes of latex-free rubber gloves were lined up on the central counter, next to piles of stethoscopes and blood-pressure cuffs. As you signed in on the clipboard, writing your name and Bakugou’s in one of the tiny boxes, he wandered the lab, picking up random things and putting them back down after turning them in his hands a few times. You were grateful for the spray bottles of alcohol scattered about the room and in every smaller office, which you sprayed on the equipment you chose.

“Okay. Let’s see…” you said before scanning the small rooms, peeking into each one to check for other students. All of them were deserted, so you chose a random one, Bakugou following you inside. A table and a small chair were the only things in the room, aside from the counter and sink. “All I have to do is take your blood pressure and we’ll be done!” You set your backpack down and pulled out your lab sheet.

He rolled his eyes with a scoff. “You brought me all the way here, just for this?”

You nodded. “Yes. Now, please sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, dumbass,” he said, but he sat down anyway, the wooden chair creaking under his weight. 

Your back was to him as you put your stethoscope on, scanning your paper’s instructions. When you turned back around, your eyes immediately widened and your face went hot. “What, um… What are you doing?” you stammered. Bakugou was in the process of removing his sweatshirt, revealing a plain black tank top and a muscular frame you weren’t expecting, although you tried not to imagine what he looked like under his baggy clothes.

“What’s it look like? Can’t take my blood pressure with my sleeves in the way. I thought you, a nursing major, would’ve known that.” His snide tone and his condescending smirk made you embarrassed. Admittedly, you didn’t even think about it. It irritated you that he somehow did, and it irritated you even more that he was right. You tried not to stare, not at the way his blond hair stuck out in every direction, or the way his tank top stretched over his broad chest, or the way his hand lay relaxed in his lap, palm up and waiting for you to begin.

The velcro of the sphygmomanometer was loud in the small room as you peeled it open, nervously taking Bakugou’s arm to wrap it around the thick muscle. He was so attractive you couldn’t help but look away, busying yourself with finding the inflation bulb. From this distance, you could smell his cologne, strong and masculine, and it filled your lungs like dense smoke. You had to will yourself to stay focused, to prevent yourself from fainting where you stood. “Can you hold this for me?” 

“Fine,” he said, and you placed the pressure gauge into his other hand. When your hands brushed, you took notice of how sweaty his palms were. You also noticed how he flinched slightly when you touched him. His breathing was even, but he looked at you intensely, like he had to think about each breath to keep himself alive. It was nerve-wracking being so close to him. So many times you tried to gain the confidence to talk to him, but you always chickened out as soon as you made eye contact across the room. Sometimes, he would talk to you first, but one of his friends always ruined the moment by begging him to do a keg-stand.

Staring straight at the gauge in his hand, you filled up the cuff, rapidly squeezing until it was thirty millimeters above resting. You pressed the stethoscope into the crook of his elbow, not noticing the beads of sweat on his skin, careful to keep your fingers off the back of the stethoscope bell. 

When the heartbeat stopped, you slowly twisted the dial on the side to release a bit of air. The heartbeat resumed, and you mentally wrote down the number on the dial. It stopped again, so you released the rest of the air out of the cuff. Pulling your stethoscope out of your ears, you reached to remove the cuff, velcro ripping from itself. His eyes never left you, watching the way your hands moved to slide the cuff off.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, abruptly, fingers fiddling with the tubes of the sphygmomanometer as you took the gauge out of his hand. He shrugged. You turned to set your equipment on the counter and write your data on your paper. “Do I make you nervous?”

“What kinda stupid question is that?” he snickered.

You laughed nervously, eyes meeting his as you turned around. “Well, it’s just that… You’re really sweaty.”

His smug expression had never left so fast. His hands grabbed his hoodie, scrambling to pull it over his head with a muttered, “Shit…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything!” You scrambled to fix your mistake, but the words had already left you.

Adjusting the hood of his hoodie, he avoided your gaze. He didn’t seem like the type to feel shame, but the expression on his face made you think otherwise. “Just forget it!” 

You shook your head, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “I shouldn’t have pointed it out. I’m sorry.”

“I just… I forgot to take my medication today. I’ve got, uh… this condition…” He trailed off as you began gathering your equipment, going back into the main lab to clean it again with alcohol.

“Hyperhidrosis?”

He blinked a few times. “Yeah, how’d you-?”

“Nursing major,” you reminded him, placing your tools in their respective piles. 

He rolled his eyes. “Ugh, whatever. Anyway, just don’t… Just don’t tell anybody, okay?”

You placed a hand over your heart. “Your secret is safe with me,” you swore. You looked around the lab for anything else you needed to take care of. “So anyway, what did Denki have to do to get you to help me?”

He looked at you, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “He told me you’d go out with me if I did.”

You froze. “He- He did what?” Oh, you were so going to kill him. Knowing him, he’d make himself scarce, but he couldn’t be hard to track down.

“So, how about it? I never do anything for free.” Bakugou walked backwards into the door, pushing it open for you.

You laughed. “As long as you promise to help me kill Denki afterwards.”

[nico-di-genova]

Prompt?? Request?? Idk what this is but it’s been stuck in my head and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!!

——

Frat boy au where lance is super straight passing and acts really frat bro-y. But it’s Outside POV from another person in the college who assumes he’s probably homophobic and doesn’t treat women well/ all that stereotypical frat boy stuff. They complain abt fratboys all the time to their friends too and it’s this whole known thing in their friend group. Then they see him get into this super fancy car with a hot older man (nando ofc) and is like what’s up with that. Person keeps trying to ironically figure out if lance is part of the mafia or some other mystery. Turns out he’s in a loving relationship with his sugar daddy nando (person sees them kissing at a gay bar one night, among other things 😏) and after that they’re like damn wtf and have a change in perception of lance and can’t shut up about it and tells everyone “did u know lance is gay?!!” Other shenanigans ensue.

Bonus if they become friends in the end and lance tells them all the different ways and places nando fucks him.

I need you to know that this has unlocked something that I have been talking with my irls about for literally a month now. I will write this whole thing for you, but right now please enjoy this snippet and some Lore ™.

Also this may be so uniquely specific that no one will enjoy it, but I need everyone to know this has been my secret passion project for weeks now.

Logan absolutely despises group projects. He especially despises them when he’s partnered with perhaps the worst possible group of people you could be partnered with on an assignment that is responsible for a quarter of their grade. Other than the girl sitting to his left, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, spreading out notes in multi-colored pen and highlighter, their table is the least inspiring of the lot. For one, there’s him, who had barely passed elementary calc. last year and was on his way to failing macroeconomics this semester. But it’s the two sitting across from him that instill a particular sort of dread.

“You going to Rusty’s tonight?” one of them asks, Esteban, tall and lanky and slumped so low in his chair that Logan can almost touch his feet even though he’s clear on the other side of the table.

The other one, Lance, broad and just as long as his friend, shrugs, “I don’t know, man. Getting kind of bored of it.”

Logan watches as Lance takes off his backwards cap long enough to ruffle at his hair before sliding the hat back down onto his head. There’s Greek lettering embroidered along back for some fraternity Logan doesn’t know the letters of, but is sure they’re assholes, nonetheless. He’s seen the way Lance strolls into class enough times, backpack slung over one shoulder, if he even bothers to bring it, his phone in the other. He wears his AirPods during class, which easily outs him as the elitist snob he is – the type of student who’s here partying on daddy’s dime, who wouldn’t know what the term ‘work study’ meant if it ran him over with the  bike Logan knows Lance keeps in the University Village parking lot. Logan couldn’t afford off-campus housing, but he knows Lance can, the bike is always parked in a resident spot.

The girl beside him shifts her notes closer, he turns his attention to her, so he doesn’t have to hear Lance recount his exploits at the local bar that is known for serving underage undergrads.

“You took all of these?” He asks the girl, mildly impressed. Her handwriting is neat, so neat it almost looks unnatural. She’s color coded them, bolded certain words and underlined others. Logan is suddenly ashamed of the chicken scratch in his notebook that’s tucked beneath his arm.

For those that don’t know, Florida Gulf Coast University is a school in Fort Myers (in south Florida, on the opposite coast of Miami). Their big draw is being “close” to the beach, realistically it’s like a 30 minute drive.

They typically attract local kids on scholarship, or rich northerners who are just looking for an easy education. But they do offer a unique golf management degree, and their claim to fame is that they’re sometimes decent in the basketball department (like 1 time in 2015 but they just will not let it go). They also somewhat have a reputation as a party school (tho I think Miami definitely more than them).

Being built predominantly around preserved land, FGCU also has a big “eco-friendly” outlook. So lots of walking paths, a course called colloquium that all students have to take, and the one everyone dreads because you have to walk through the swamp for part of it. Lucky for Lance, he would have attended during the COVID years, and thus could avoid the swamp walk because all courses were virtual.

He’d probably be a member of Alpha Epsilon Pi, the Jewish fraternity on campus. They’re lowkey, but also kind of throw the best parties, off-campus of course because FGCU doesn’t have official fraternity or sorority housing. In this world Lance has definitely drank jungle juice from a trash can with a nozzle cut into the base. He is aware of the existence of “Saturdays are for the boys” flags, frat boy Lance is something that can be both repulsive and endearing.

He has a car, but most the time he opts to take his bike places. Fernando first runs into him when he’s in his bike gear actually, which, you know, hard to resist that. Plus, picture Fernando being Lance’s backpack. Please envision it, it’s a very important image. It’s definitely happened in this universe.

Strollonso beach dates??? Yeah, 100% happened here too. One of the reasons Lance even ends up at FGCU is because of the beach, so you know his ass is there most weekends. He forgets sunscreen frequently, Fernando is used to applying aloe to his back after they’ve spent a long day on the boat. He probably has that sunburned warmth to him like 24/7. He never forgets his sunglasses though, so he also maybe has raccoon eyes.

Oh yeah, and Logan, being a South Florida boy, probably would have attended FGCU too. His tinder profile unfortunately probably does feature a photo of him holding a fish. Just Florida boy things.

Anyway, this maybe is nothing. But if you want to talk more about this au please feel free to message me/send an ask. And I will 100% be ready to ramble more about this ultra specific fic. A chapter coming after keep to the line this weekend maybe.

[yuri-is-online]

Weird Yutu thingy but what if Yuu came from the Pokemon world

I believe the support system in the Pokemon world is much better than Earth so-

Single parent with a raging teen-

Add some emotional support Pokemon

And when Yutu comes to his parent's timeline Yuu gets so excited to see new Pokemon (that love them for some reason. Almost as though they were their first trainer-)

Oh Yuu and Yutu would be in such a better place if they came from the pokemon world. Yuu gets a house with a bunch of neighbors and nearby a lab and no one really cares about not knowing who Yutu's dad is.

The pokemon part is a bit trickey though... would they remember Twisted Wonderland? Probably, I couldn't see the magic marshal's keeping the pokemon? But I could also see one of Yuu's team staying with Yutu's dad by accident. Maybe it helps keep the boys who remain alive that much more sane, maybe it stands reluctant guard nearby where the phantom resides, unable to think of anything else to do until it sees Yutu and gets some of its old energy back. This whole ayuu is based off of Fire Emblem Awakening so I have to mention Cherche and her wyvern Minerva... her son Gerome takes up his mother's mount and brings her back in time with him, it's how she recognizes him even before he shows her the wedding ring... perhaps something similar happened with Yutu where he has one of your pokemon and you just know that he's lying to you even before you know he's your son (Gerome's supports with his dad made me so mad because I always S ranked Cherche and Libra because Libra actually learns to speak wyvern in their support chain but that's not reflected in his support with Gerome because it's generic and i wanted to scream every time i read iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. I sort of based Jade! Yutu's attitude towards his dad on those supports though)

But back to nicer thoughts, I always struggle with pokemon aus because half of it is just assigning the pokemon, and then I get super caught up in what region everyone is from and just bleh

Riddle! Yutu has to have a Roselia right? It just makes sense, maybe he has the shiny stone for the evolution all ready to go but it was the last present Yuu ever gave him so he's reluctant to use it. Maybe, if you want some extra angst, when he comes to Twisted Wonderland he still just has a budew because he's not super into pokemon battles but he struggles to raise the friendship level enough for budew to evolve once he's there. He's so upset about losing his parent and budew is trying their best tm but it's not enough until they see Overblot Riddle and finally get on the same wavelength.

The triplets... one of them has to have a Fidough that's just a given. I was tempted to say they all have one? But I like the idea of Yushi having a Swirlix since she's more into candymaking. That's 2/3 fairy types so I was scrolling looking for another one when I saw Sinistea and went "oh that would be cute and the perfect fit for a cafe themed se-" and then I realized I could give that to Yutres. Could. For funsies. But it makes much more sense and is less cruel to give her a Milcery. So Yutu gets Fidough, Yutres gets Milcery, and Yushi gets Swirlix for a cute little fairy cafe set.

Cater! Yutu is trickey, he's big on mindfulness and I was really tempted to give him my favorite pokemon because of that, but he also really likes music... I feel like psychic pokemon sort of fits his vibe? And I am torn between Chimecho and Espurr. Espurr is supposed to have difficulty controlling its power, so maybe Chimecho and Yutu could have been focused on helping one out. Cater is super underrated so why shouldn't I give his Yutu two pokemon, it'd be very cute.

Ace! Yutu is pikachu coded to me <3 They would fight so much because both pikachu and Yutu are little brats but once they get in sync watch out they're super scary. Easily the pokemon most excited to see Yuu again... perhaps all that ego clashing is just something that happened in Yuu's world because pika and Yutu bonded while grieving Yuu. Maybe Yutu never evolves his pikachu because that's how Yuu gave it to him. Maybe Pikachu doesn't want to evolve because that's how Yuu left it.

Deuce! Yutu... there aren't any explicitly chicken pokemon outside of maybe Moltres but there is Togepi who is an egg. Baby Yutu loves his bestest friend in the whole wide world, Delinquent Yutu is sort of embarrassed by them. After he catches a houndoor he stops actively using them in battle... he doesn't hate Togi, he just doesn't let anyone in his gang see them and gets really violent with anyone who might try to hurt them. Probably defends fairy types any chance he gets before stammering out some sort of excuse trying to play it off as someone else's opinions. Maybe his boys catch on and one of them gets the idea that maybe they could like... start using impidimps. Make Grimmsnarl the icon of the gang instead of Houndoom, just cause you know maybe fairies are kinda neat maybe. they all want it to be togi instead please boss we made them a little biker jacket isn't it so cu- i mean badass?

Leona! Yutu is loved by cats and he loves naps. Litleo feels like the most thematic pokemon for him, maybe they were napping under a tree one day and a Munchlax decided to follow him home because sleeping on Leona! Yutu was actually pretty warm and Yuu makes the best snacks. His dad probably didn't appreciate the correlation between him and his son's pokemon but as I have said before, he's very much that dad who doesn't want the cat but ends up asleep on the couch with it in his lap two days later. Except this time it's him feeding all his vegetables to Munchlax.

Ruggie! Yutu is my little dandelion prince so he gets a Hoppip. I like the idea of him coming home with one stuck in his hair and they've been best friends ever since. He feels like the one most likely to take over training Yuu's team, if he had continued living in your world I don't think he would have become a trainer. He would have been happy to have a normal job and maybe never evolve his pokemon, but he doesn't regret taking on the role of trainer in the bad future. It gives him a lot of self confidence.

Jack! Yutu... I will bestow him the honor of giving him one of my favorite pokemon. He gets Cacnea because Yuu remembers that Jack liked succulents. Yutu is very serious about taking care of him and making sure he has the best possible habitat at home. Cacnea is under the impression it is doing the same for Yutu and Yuu, but the stubby little hands it has make helping with chores difficult.

It's really tempting to give all of the Octatrio kids water type pokemon, maybe left over memories from Twisted Wonderland make Yuu think that would be a good idea. But I want to give Azul! Yutu a Clobbopus sosososososo bad. It's such a cute pokemon and I think Yutu would agree that his pokemon is super cute. So does everyone in Savanaclaw much to his annoyance, it's like his pokemon is the dorm leader and not him.

Jade! Yutu feels like a Mareanie guy. Water type since he's a merfolk, poison type because that's pretty punk rock, and it looks just enough like a mushroom to be thematic. I could see one of Yuu's pokemon staying in Twisted Wonderland with Jade... a Shiinotic who helps him at the bar and is the best cared for mushroom out there that Yutu is envious. Why does his parent's pokemon love his dad so much? Why won't it agree to come with him into the past where you are still alive because it insists on staying with Jade, saying that's what you would want?

Floyd! Yutu's favorite pokemon ever since he was a little boy was Sharpedo. He asked, suspiciously politely, to be given one when he was old enough to get his trainer's license. He even made a power point, how cute! The answer was still no, instead Yuu convinces the lab near by their house to take Yutu on as one of those trainers with a pokedex who goes on a journey to collect all the gym badges. He really likes being a trainer, probably would have been the annoying rival to his next door neighbor, definitely picked whatever pokemon was strongest against whatever they picked. He still catches his Carvanha and doesn't hold it against Yuu for not giving it to him, he thinks that was probably for the best.

Kalim! Yutu deserves a Whooper. It's cute, the little face is always smiling and Whooper and Quagsire are such joyful little guys I think Kalim would love them. Oricorio feels like a good choice too because of how much it likes dancing... but I feel like Yutu would have a hard time choosing what form to train because they are all so cool. His dad would be such an enabler, sure son lets have all four! And throw a themed party for each one lol

Jamil! Yutu also feels like a good candidate for a pokemon rival. Sure, Ekans and Arbok feel like good pokemon for him thematically, but I just know he would have a well balanced and thought out team of pokemon he deeply loves and takes great care of. Keeping with the snake theme, lets say he started out with Snivy. Serperior fits Jamil's overall vibe pretty well, it's a beautiful pokemon and very regal. Other pokemon I could see him having are Gastrodon, Clefable, and Scizor.

Vil! Yutu loves to draw but I do not like Smeargle in the slightest and will be pretending it does not exist. I feel like anyone attached to Vil should get a Buneary, it's a cute pokemon with a friendship evolution who has real hate in its heart. It is more like Vil than any poison type pokemon fr fr. I could see Vil! Yutu doing well as coordinator, but being a bit uncertain of who else he wants to add to his team, but catching an evee with the intent of evolving them into... something he just doesn't know what.

I hit the text block limit lol, I should just. Stop being distracted by cassette beasts and get back to writing. Or replay a pokemon game.

[madstronaut]

got totally blindsided by a whole fucking beautiful chapter on IRL a/b/o pack dynamics in a sociological nonfiction nyt bestseller book I was reading

EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU, ISABEL WILKERSON FOR INCLUDING THIS CHAPTER IN CASTE (great and challenging read btw, highly recommend) i am also honestly like why is there a whole chapter dedicated to this is she secretly an A/B/O fan LMAO

a few choice quotes for all my fellow a/b/o fiends out there:

"True alphas, the behaviorist told me, are fearless protectors against outside incursions, but they rarely have to assert themselves within the pack, rarely have to act with aggression, bark orders, or use physical means of control." speak softly carry big dstick vibes

"True alphas command authority through their calm oversight of those who depend upon them. They establish their rank early in life and communicate through ancient signals their inner strength and stewardship, assert their power only when necessary. An alpha generally eats first, decides when and who will eat afterward, inspires trust through firm shepherding for the safety and well-being of the pack."

"An alpha is not necessarily the biggest or fastest but usually the innately self-assured one who can chastise a pack member with a mere look or low voice. A true alpha wields quiet power judiciously apportioned."

"You know that you are not seeing a true alpha, or, put another way, you have encountered an insecure alpha, if he or she must yell, scream, bully, or attack those beneath them into submission. That individual does not have the loyalty and trust of the pack and endangers the entire group through his or her insecurities, through his or her show of fear and lack of courage."

"We owe our misperceptions about alpha behavior to studies of large groupings of wolves placed into captivity and forced to fight for dominance or to cower into submission. In nature, wolf packs are more likely to consist of extended family systems, packs of between five and fifteen wolves, led by an alpha male and an alpha female, whom the pack trust and has reason to trust for the survival of them all." ok let me interject here to briefly proclaim *clears throat* ALPHA FEMALE SUPREMACYYYY

"The main characteristic of an alpha male wolf is a quiet confidence, quiet self-assurance...you know what's best for your pack. You lead by example. You're very comfortable with that. You have a calming effect."

"At the bottom of the hierarchy is the omega, the underdog, the lowest-ranking wolf, arising from natural personality traits in relation to others in the pack. The omega generally eats last and serves as a kind of court jester who acts as an escape valve, often picked on by other wolves. He bears the brunt of the tensions they face in the wild, where they are subject to attack from predators or from rival packs and during lean times in the hunt for prey."

"The omega acts as a kind of social glue, allowing frustration to be vented without actual acts of war...the omega is so critical to the pack structure that when a pack loses its omega, it enters into a long period of mourning, where the entire pack stops hunting and just lays around looking miserable, as if there were no longer a reason to go on. The loss of an omega can threaten social cohesion and put the entire pack at risk. Depending on the composition of the pack, an omega might not be easily replaced. The new omega would mean a demotion for one of the lower to mid-level pack members. Either way, the pack is destabilized. After all, these roles are not artificially assigned based upon what an individual wolf looks like, as with certain other species, but emerge as a consequence of internal personality traits that surface naturally in the forming of a pack."

tagging my fellow a/b/o + werewolf au fans/moots/beloveds:

@obsidiangravity @the-californicationist @ghostgorlsworld @http-paprika @deadbranch

@gemmahale @frogchiro @yeyinde @ghouljams @shotmrmiller

(i bless you all with enough inspo and hcs and fic ideas to rival loads of rut/heat-induced knotti-)

anyway, HAPPY JULY FOLKS WHAT A GREAT WAY TO START THIS MONTH

[nikito0x]

RadioApple AU - Forget me not

I am too lazy to write a whole fic of it, but I can't get this plot bunny out of my head so here we go:

This is so AU it will never be canon (obviously) but it's ridiculous enough to be believable.

To start off: We all know the age old story of Lucifer's fall and the way he and Lilith got together. Right? Well forget all about it. In this AU it's all a lie. Let me explain.

The first humans to have ever been created were Alastor and Lilith. They were acquaintances and simply live peacefully in the Garden of Eden for a while. There is nothing romantic between them.

Lucifer gets assigned to watch over them and at some point witnesses Alastor interacting with some of his creations. So he decides to ask him about his opinion of them.

They start a conversation about Lucifer's other, weirder, creations. Some of which were rejected by the elder angels.

Alastor, as someone who gets easily bored, finds Lucifer's ideas amusing and intriguing. So they become friends, partially thanks to Alastor's pure fascination with Lucifer's mind, and partially thanks to Lucifer having finally found someone who would listen to his ideas and even like them. Not to mention add some of their own to his to create something even greater.

So they become friends. Lucifer starts visiting Alastor more and more often as time passes.

Alastor witnesses how Lucifer isn't exactly treated great by his siblings a lot of the time and tries to soothe the angel or distract him with a new invention that may never be allowed to be created, but would be fun to think about anyway.

Lucifer gets isolated from his siblings because of his "shortcomings" and at some point ends up in a situation where he has to ask for Alastor's help with preening his wings as no one else would.

Alastor notices Lucifer being uncomfortable and asks about it. Lucifer tries to deflect and ignore the problem but Alastor convinces him to trust him with whatever issue he has. And so - wing grooming happens.

Insert typical Wing Fic tropes here.

This becomes a regular occurrence.

Meanwhile Lilith is just chilling and exploring the garden. Nothing much to see here 👀

Michael is going to be sort of a villain in here.

Michael sees the bond forming between his brother and this inferior creature his father has created and disapproves of it. So he decides he will have to seperate them for the good of everybody.

Michael goes to Lilith and convinces her to help him with that task. Lilith would try talking to Alastor and Michael would talk to Lucifer.

Lilith is confused and uncertain about that. She tries asking questions but he rebuffs her and simply reassures her that it's all for the greater good.

In the end Lilith just asks something like: "What if I can't? What if I don't succeed?" And Michael implies that her existence is at stake if this doesn't work.

Remember: Alastor and Lilith are the first ever humans. They haven't eaten the fruit and know very little of the world, only what they've been told and found out for themselves. And since they have committed no sin yet, they are basically immortal as long as they don't injure themselves to a point of no return. And so they don't know pain like a regular human does.

Lilith becomes fearful of Michael's warning and tries explaining to Alastor the importance of not associating with Lucifer anymore. Alastor is confused and doesn't understand her worry, so he doesn't listen. Lucifer is too much fun for him to just abandon him like that. Besides, he's started to care some for the angel. He won't just do something without a good reason for it.

Alastor, in this sense, knows more than Lilith since he's been in contact with Lucifer (who's been explaining things to him) for a while now. Alastor would know more of the world than Lilith and wouldn't just make a rash decision to follow any order he is given like she does.

Michael also fails in convincing Lucifer that Alastor isn't worth his time. The conversation does rather the opposite of what he wanted, as Lucifer is reminded of all the things Michael and the other angels didn't do for him, that Alastor did in their stead.

Alastor and Lucifer talk about it and simply decide to ignore them and continue as they have.

At some point Michael gets frustrated and gives Lilith an ultimatum. Get this done by the end of the week or God will be informed.

"Remember, your existence might be at stake." And so Lilith panics.

Nearing the end of the week, Michael becomes impatient and introduces Lilith to something no human at that point has ever experienced. Pain.

He cuts her hand with an angelic weapon to prove to her what she could feel (if not a 100 times worse) if she doesn't comply. The cut is shallow, barely there and Michael heals it afterwards, but Lilith has never experienced such a horrible thing before. This was pain? And it can be a lot worse?? No, she has to separate Lucifer and Alastor at any cost.

Michael stays in the shadows and observes, satisfied.

Lilith, out of desperation, reaches the conclusion that it would be better for Alastor to get hurt than her, since he is the one who doesn't wish to listen to God's will. And so, in a frantic state of panic, Lilith attacks him.

She doesn't really know what would happen if she hits him hard enough with a rock or sth, since neither of them have ever truly witnessed death at that point; so she tries hurting him to show him the consequences of his actions if he doesn't listen to her.

Alastor ends up accidentally killing her in self defense. Alastor pushes Lilith away but as she rolls away from him she hits her head on a rock and dies that way.

Alastor explains everything to Lucifer and Lucifer goes to find Michael because this situation stinks of his interference.

God finds out about the situation and sends both Lilith and Alastor's souls to Hell.

Lilith starts hating Alastor and Lucifer from then on. So when she and Alastor meet in Hell, she screams at him that if he'd just listened to her, they wouldn't be in this situation. He tries reasoning with her, even as much as he's angry with her, but she just storms off away from him.

The first residents of Hell have been added.

Alastor still gets his deer like characteristics as he spent a lot of time in their presence at the Garden of Eden.

Meanwhile, Lucifer finds out where Alastor has ended up and tries to convince God to change his mind. He doesn't.

So he makes a plan. The new humans have been created. They're supposed to be better than the last ones. Lucifer tries to prove God wrong by getting Adam and Eve in trouble. He tries to prove that just sending every human who has made a mistake in Hell without a chance to redeem themselves gets you nowhere. But his plan doesn't work the way he wished, as Adam and Eve are turned mortal and Lucifer gets sent to Hell as well.

Michael is the last person Lucifer sees as he falls, wings cut off, betrayed and in pain.

Alastor finds him and helps him heal mentally and physically. They end up actually getting together there and they are the most disgustingly adorable couple ever.

They build Hell up and create Pentagram City. They're happy and the people of Hell respect them and appreciate their presence.

Lilith's POV meanwhile: she starts asking questions like: Okay but what if nothing bad would have happened if Lucifer and Alastor stayed together? What if Michael lied to me? Well, he could still have hurt me (for his own agenda) when I was alone, since Alastor spent all of his time with Lucifer. And I don't have anyone else. Well, if I have to be miserable and alone, then I'll make sure they are as well. And I'll take Hell for my own in the meantime.

So now she hates all three of them. Yes, she's a victim but she chooses to deal with the anger and grief she has in a toxic way.

Charlie will still exist in this universe, but for now, she'll be a creation of Lucifer's who somehow combines his and Alastor's energies, and uses whatever powers of creation he has as an angel, to create her.

Even with the depressing circumstances of only being able to see the worst of humanity, Lucifer doesn't fall into depression like in canon, not to that extent at the very least; Alastor an Charlie would be there for him after all.

He ends up ruling hell well, having Alastor's help doing so as he is the more politically savvy between the two of them.

( Spark of Redemption: After being cast down, Lucifer could create Charlie as a symbol of hope. Her creation could combine his angelic power with Alastor's understanding of humanity, creating a being with the potential for good even in Hell. Balancing Darkness: Charlie could be born as a counterpoint to the growing darkness in Hell. Her presence, filled with Lucifer and Alastor's love, could offer a glimmer of light for lost souls.)

( Showcasing the respect Hell's residents have for Lucifer and Alastor can be done through small details: demons seeking their counsel, celebrations held in their honor, or acts of loyalty in times of trouble.)

The Morningstar family is as wholesome as it can get in a place like Hell.

Shared Responsibilities: Charlie, with her inherent compassion, focuses on rehabilitation efforts in Hell, while Alastor manages the day-to-day operations and Lucifer acts as the final authority figure. They respect each other's strengths and work together for the good of Hell.

After a few decades in hell, Lilith disappears. No one knows where she went. She's gone for a long while until she pops up again, more powerful than ever.

In reality, Lilith made a deal with Roo. It is in Roo's interest that Lilith uses her concerts to spread sin and rebellion in order to turn Hell into a domain of evilness to fuel her power. Roo in return gifts Lilith power, she becomes strong enough to affect most with her voice and words, even someone as powerful as Lucifer himself.

No one but the two of them are aware of this deal being made. The deal was made some time after hell establishes a proper society with its own system.

Lilith decides to build her power, by making deals with other demons for their souls, her deal with Roo enhances those deals and gives her a larger boost than it would have given her otherwise.

Lilith decides it's time to enact her revenge.

She targets Alastor, knowing that without him, Lucifer will crumble under the pressure like what happened in canon with his depression. This would cause Hell to go in chaos once their powerful leader seems to have lost any care for the souls in his domain. This would spread sin and rebellion in Hell even further.

Lilith holds Charlie hostage as she makes a deal with Alastor for both Lucifer and Charlie's safety. She uses her voice/songs to brainwash them into forgetting Alastor's very existence. She does the same to the whole of hell.

Instead, she replaces Alastor with herself in those memories and convinces everyone that she's been the one by Lucifer's side all along. For the safety of his loved ones, Alastor signs away his soul to her. Lilith forbids him from approaching Lucifer, and from telling him anything about the truth of what actually happened between the three of them (Lilith, Lucifer and Alastor).

In the meantime Alastor's powers are severely restricted and he is not allowed to make deals for other demons' souls in an attempt to increase his strength.

Lilith goes to Heaven, making sure that Roo's plans for the yearly exterminations are going well and that her hidden seeds of sin in Heaven continue to grow. Lilith is strong but not strong enough to defeat Lucifer in battle. Replacing his memories of someone with another wasn't easy, but was simple enough to trick the mind to do.

She knows she can't convince him to give her his crown, not now anyway. She is convinced she would rule Hell eventually. As Roo's powers from the spread sin and chaos grow, so would hers - a nice gift from Roo to her, as she's doing such a fine job on their deal. Lilith disappears for seven years.

After all that Alastor tries his best to regain any power he can. He looks for loopholes in his deal with Lilith and realizes that Lilith didn't forbid him from approaching Charlie, so once he feels he can be of help to her in any way, he would approach her.

Lilith didn't forbid him all interaction with Lucifer. Lucifer can still approach him himself and they can talk about other things that don't include the contents of Alastor's deal.

Alastor also figures out that Lilith had made a deal with someone powerful, he doesn't know who, but he knows she can't have gained abilities strong enough to manipulate an angel from just deals for others' souls.

Alastor is convinced, however, that given time and some reminders Lucifer will be able to break through Lilith's deception, as he is still more powerful than she is. (he is right).

For now Alastor has a new goal: Get stronger and get noticed by the king of Hell somehow. That's how he becomes an overlord.

Once radio was brought in hell, he makes it a part of his brand (as it is in canon);

That's how he meets Vox. Here is why they don't get along in this AU. For one, Vox is a clout chaser while Alastor does radio mainly for himself and his own enjoyment; and other such character differences that get in the way of them being truly close.

Alastor one day approaches Vox with an idea: bring others' memories to the screens of their TVs. Vox loves the idea, he imagines he could make a whole lot of profit by exploiting sinners' longing for home by bringing their memories of Earth to their screens.

The project is going well and Alastor finally decides to share his reasons for coming up with such an idea. He tells Vox that someone he loves was attacked by another with the ability to erase his loved one's memory of him. And he wants that person to remember him again.

Vox becomes angry with Alastor, since he has a crush on the Radio Demon and doesn't want to help him reunite with his love. Vox puts an end to that project. Vox and Alastor fight and Alastor manages to win even with the restriction placed over his powers.

Alastor was really powerful before it. Even now, restricted, he will be above average in regards to power even compared to the other overlords.

After that Alastor disappears for 7 years - like in canon. Maybe he's looking for alternative ways to get more powerful. Maybe he finds out that cannibals have just that little bit more power to them than regular demons and joins them as he has nothing left to lose. Maybe he's looking for other demons with the power to affect the mind. Maybe he tries making deals for favors instead of souls. Maybe he gathers allies to fight alongside him against Lilith for the future. Idk.

Alastor uses his weakened powers to subtly manipulate events around the developing hotel, guiding Charlie's path with anonymous warnings or nudges to ensure her safety.

After he comes back, the events in canon from season 1 proceed to happen as they originally did. The only difference being that Alastor cares about the residents of the hotel more than in canon.

He sort of becomes "the dad" of the group, before Lucifer shows up.

Lucifer and Alastor still have their fight in "Hell's greatest dad" with their song. The difference is that Alastor has different motivations for being angry with Lucifer. He intentionally calls Lucifer a dud in their song, because he is angry with how neglectful he had become to Charlie in the 7 years he was gone.

Canon events happen as they originally did until the end of season 1. Alastor still makes a deal with Charlie for a favor. The difference is that this time he plans to use it in a situation like this- example: Charlie's loyalty to her friends might threaten her safety and Alastor plans to use his favor to make her run if needed.

Alastor uses his fight with Adam to test his strength and see if he has managed to get any stronger despite the restrictions he is under. He still loses that fight. Even if some of his strength was returned it isn't anything significant. Alastor learns to use whatever little powers he has as efficiently as possible. Low effort maximum efficiency.

After that first season Alastor and Lucifer start getting along better. Lucifer realizes Alastor was angry with him for his absence in Charlie's life even when he doesn't know where that anger stems from and resolves himself to be better for her in the future. He tells Alastor so and they forgive each other for whatever wrongs were inflicted. They still tease each other often, but that's just a part of their dynamic.

Eventually Lucifer will start getting dreams of things that look like memories but can't be because he doesn't remember ever having done those things with Alastor. He ignores the dreams, dismissing them as wishful thinking as he had started to view Alastor as a close friend after they forgave each other.

Lucifer slowly falls in love with Alastor, and those dreams continue to haunt him.

Alastor never fell out of love with Lucifer to begin with.

There will be a whole lotta angst in regards to Alastor. He will have to realize that during the time him and Lucifer were separated they have become different people entirely and he will have to let go of the past and maybe get used to Lucifer and him being friends because he doesn't know if they'll ever be anything more.

And with how much he's changed - becoming an overlord and a cannibal to boot, he doesn't know if Lucifer could ever accept him. Especially since at the time he just sees him as just another terrible sinner.

Alastor falls in love with that new version of his husband and Lucifer does the same.

Eventually Lucifer breaks through Lilith's enchantment and him and Alastor have a proper reunion. Lucifer will break the enchantment on Charlie soon after.

Alastor writes down what happened and explains why he made the deal with Lilith (he can't tell anyone anything, but he can write it down)

Lucifer will be able to get him out of it with some time.

Eventually they will fight and win against Heaven.

Maybe they'll cause a rebellion in Heaven by it's residents by using both Lucifer's angelic power and Alastor's radio show to broadcast the truth of their pure leaders. The ones that take pleasure in killing and hunting those who are already down.

Whew! Done! Finally! Whoop!

It turned out far longer than I thought it would but here you go ig.

[aphroditelovesu]

⸻ The Lost Queen - IV ⸻

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, eventual smut, pregnancy.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 1,870.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra, @jennifer0305 , @his0kaswife, @animetye-23.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 4

Perdiccas didn't know what to do with himself.

The macedonian general felt confused and troubled by the thoughts that were running through his head. He didn't understand why he was feeling this way about someone he had just met but couldn't help it.

There was something about this strange woman that appealed to him profusely.

He watched her like an eagle but kept silent as Alexander questioned her. She seemed quite calm, or so he thought, as she had answered all of Alexander's questions with unwavering grace and confidence. He respected that, respected that she hadn't shown fear even though she was clearly in a vulnerable position.

And when he learned her name it was like a weight had been lifted from his chest. (Y/N). A name he had never heard before but it suited her, suited her beauty. The way she spoke with so much softness and confidence, as a Queen would speak was one of the things that attracted the general's curiosity.

''(Y/N)…'' Perdiccas whispered and was satisfied when the beautiful woman's name fell from his lips.

''What did you say?'' Ptolemy asked and leaned towards Perdiccas, who shook his head quickly.

''Nothing.'' He lied quickly and Ptolemy glared at him for a bit but turned his attention back to the King and (Y/N).

Perdiccas didn't need anyone to find out the thoughts that were in his head, not even his closest friends. There were things that were better left unsaid and he knew within himself that he should never speak what was on his mind about (Y/N). He was sure no one would understand, in fact, not even he understood his thoughts and feelings.

He turned his eyes to (Y/N) again who was escorted to the tent that would be assigned to her. Perdiccas watched her whimpering, wanting desperately to keep up but it wasn't smart to do so.

He clenched his fists as his fellow generals filed out of the King's tent and he promised himself that he would visit her later. Perdiccas needed to make sure she was okay, something inside him screamed that this was what he should do and, for some reason, the general didn't question it.

He closed his eyes and counted to twenty. This habit of counting to calm down has always worked since he was a small child. If he concentrated more, he could hear the sweet sound of his mother's voice telling him epic stories.

And how much he missed his mother. Perhaps she knew what he was supposed to do in this situation.

Perdiccas sighed heavily and left the tent and started walking aimlessly. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he needed to distract his mind a little and he could choose between walking a little or a sword practice with Cleitus.

He chose the first option.

Not that he didn't like the older general, he did but he preferred to be alone. Cleitus would probably tell him not to stress, get a drink and a woman. The order didn't really matter.

Perdiccas had nothing against getting drunk and sleeping with a woman, but he wasn't in the mood for something like that today. At least not for now, there was the feast and he needed to talk to (Y/N) about something.

He just needed to find out what he needed to talk to her about. And most important of all, he needed to get her out of his head.

Visiting her tent hadn't been the smartest decision he'd made in his life.

Perdiccas was a general, a proud and skilled macedonian warrior. He knew how to wield a sword as well as he knew about diplomacy, maybe he wasn't as good a diplomat as Hephaestion, but he had his talents. And, modesty aside, he was an attractive man. And he knew it.

He knew all this but even so he felt cornered like a wounded animal when addressing the beautiful and strange (Y/N).

His heart broke when he saw her crying and he wanted to hug her and try to calm her down. He didn't understand why he felt that way about her, although he was considerate of others, Perdiccas never acted like that with anyone, not even with his friends from Mieza.

He felt a little better when she smiled at him. It was a forced and sad smile, but it was still an attempt at a smile and he promised himself that he would do everything to make the feast pleasant for her.

And for that to happen he would need to talk to his friends, to make sure they didn't do anything or say anything that made her more uncomfortable than she already was.

Which was why he was sitting on the couch in his tent, with his friends gathered, except for Alexander and Hephaestion who were talking about something he didn't know. He looked at them all and smiled faintly, Ptolemy, Cleitus, Philotas, Nearchus and Cassander.

He took a deep breath and started talking, ''I called you here because I have something important to talk about.''

Ptolemy looked into his friend's face and pursed his lips, ''And what is it about? I imagine it is not about any attempted conspiracy against our King and friend.'' This was Ptolemy's way attempt to lighten the mood and it paid off when everyone laughed.

''No, but it's always an idea!'' Perdiccas chuckled, ''But I want to talk about our guest. (Y/N).'' At the mention of her name, a suffocating silence fell and he swallowed hard.

''What about her?'' Cassander's dry, cold voice broke the silence.

Perdiccas frowned at Cassander's sly tone, ''Are you aware that she will be at the feast tonight?''

Everyone nodded hesitantly.

''We must be sure to make her as comfortable as possible.'' Perdiccas took a deep breath and continued, ''It is our duty.''

Philotas blinked in surprise and said in a voice full of disgust, ''Why?''

Perdiccas glared at him, ''Because we are not wild and uncivilized. She is our guest.''

''I wouldn't say guest, Perdiccas.'' Ptolemy's calm voice interrupted the argument about to form. ''We don't know her and she doesn't know us. We don't know anything about her, only that she is a stranger who appeared out of nowhere in our camp. ''

''Precisely and that's why we should be kind and also why Alexander is treating her like a guest. Our King knows how to be kind, but has he ever bestowed a tent, food and clothing on just anyone?'' No one replied and, satisfied with that, Perdiccas continued, ''We don't need to be cruel or act savage, she is not a threat and we should be courteous.''

''I agree with our friend.'' Cleitus replied and smirked as attention shifted to him, ''She appears to be harmless and, moreover, she is very pretty and appears to be polite. Even if she is a foreigner, we don't need to act so badly unless she poses a threat. ''

''I think the same, Cleitus.'' Nearchus replied with a laugh. ''She may be a stranger to us, but we can try to be kind and tolerant. There is nothing wrong with that.''

''So are we in agreement? Shall we do our best to make this feast something pleasant for her?'' Perdiccas finally asked and everyone thought for a moment.

''We are.'' Ptolemy replied and soon Cleitus and Nearchus did the same. Cassander and Philotas frowned a little but nodded in agreement with their friends.

Satisfied with the arrangement, Perdiccas finally felt lighter that day.

He had decided that he would try to be as gentle and calm as possible with her.

Perdiccas wanted to do a favor, a kindness, and sent two servants with some clothes and jewelry for (Y/N) to use at the feast.

Although she looked very pretty in what she was wearing, because she was, but it wasn't the appropriate type of outfit to wear to a banquet. Whatever that was, it definitely wouldn't be of good use for the occasion.

Perdiccas finally finished getting dressed and hoped he looked presentable. His hair was braided and one part loose and he wore a white chiton with some gold bands, along with some bracelets and wore his traditional sandal. He hadn't dressed up as much because he didn't think it was necessary, but he wanted to make a good impression on (Y/N).

The general got out of his tent and started walking towards (Y/N)'s tent. As he walked, he surveyed his surroundings and smiled when he saw that the soldiers were busy with bonfires, lots of wine, and small talk. Sometimes he and his comrades are like that.

Once he arrived in front of (Y/N)'s tent, he waited a few minutes to make sure she was dressed. Seeing her naked wasn't in his plans, but it wouldn't bother him. Shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts, he entered when he had permission from (Y/N)

And he almost fell to his knees right there.

She just looked... Divine. Her face was clean and natural, with just a little bit of kohl applied to her eyes, bringing out the beautiful color in them. Her hair was done in a rather ordinary but very attractive hairstyle, showing off her neck which was adorned with a necklace that he had chosen himself. A beautiful gold necklace. And her clothing, oh, the chiton fit her perfectly and although it was long and covered her legs, Perdiccas could still catch a glimpse of her thighs when she turned around and the cleavage was subdued but pretty. He was sure if he got close to her he could catch a glimpse of her breasts, but he didn't.

Instead, he blushed a little without knowing why and smiled at her, which she returned with a shy smile that made Perdiccas' heart skip a beat.

He moved a little closer to her and offered his strong arm, which (Y/N) accepted, hooking hers in his.

''Are you ready?'' His voice was as low as a whisper and she nodded. Perdiccas began to guide her to Alexander's tent, the place where the feast would be held.

As they approached, Perdiccas could hear the noise of his friends' voices and he felt (Y/N)'s body tense. He stopped walking and forced her to look at him.

''You have nothing to worry about. You are under Alexander's protection and, dare I say, mine,'' he murmured, looking into her eyes tenderly, ''no one will dare to hurt you and I promise they will all be kind.''

''Thank you.'' She whispered, closing her eyes. ''For everything.''

Perdiccas smiles widely and in an act of weakness, he leans his forehead against hers.

''Whenever you need something, come to me or call me and I'll come to you.'' His voice was so low that it could barely be heard over the loud noises echoing from the King's tent. But they didn't care.

Perdiccas and (Y/N) didn't care because the only importance was themselves at that moment.

— lady l: and that ending there, huh?? I know it wasn't the feast, but I wanted to show Perdiccas pov, but don't worry, because the next chapter will be the feast and I promise A LOT of drama!! What did you think? I hope you enjoyed it and forgive me for any mistakes that went unnoticed. I love you all!! ❤️

[meraki-sunset]

Guess what

I got a fever the other day and while bored in bed I made another AU (this is a short thing i won’t make an mspfa about it)

An AU where the four CSAU seadweelers are mermaids

And the premise it’s basically, Feferi and Fefeta are siblings (they love eachother) and so are Eridan and Erisol. (they get along fine)  Mermaids are suposed to be something from violet to fuccia in color (fefeta’s color is normal here). But Erisol is basically the mutant here and his bright green color makes him too easy to spot. which makes the other mermaids not like him, because he can lead predadors and hunters to the rest of the mermaid population under the sea. (his friends have grown used to surround him when in danger to make him stand out less since they were kids)

the four of them grew up together. Feferi and Fefeta held the tittle of heiress still and Erisol and Eridan were sort of like princes too. As kids they tried to make Erisol feel like a normal merkid

Eventually Eridan and Feferi got into an arranged marriage by their ancestors, they never considered Erisol an option due tu his blood (fefeta is considered to have a normal blood, while her sister manifested royal blood, she is still a heiress, she is just a little less special in the eyes of royals)

Erisol grows older and feels more and more like an outcast. he grows apart from his brother and friends

Eventually Erisol and Eridan fight. They both have feelings for feferi. Erisol calls out how eridan has become a big jerk. Eridan tells him to fuck off and probably mentions his mutant condition as the reason he’s not the one engaged to feferi

Erisol disregarding his safety swims to the surface to be alone for a while, where no one will bother him

He happens to be spoted a by hunters, they roam around looking for mermaids who get too close to the surface and sell their tails in the black market

Mermaid tails are most likely used for medicine, beauty products and also rich people cook them as a rare dish.

Erisol being a mutant means the hunters hit the jackpot. Mindfang could sell him for a shit ton of money

They put him in a big barrel cage belowdecks and head to the next port. They assign one of the lower workers on the ship to feed him twice a day.  He happens to be Arquius, who’s been on the ship for a while

They don’t get along at first

Arquius limits himself to just giving him food, but can’t help talking to him when doing it. Erisol just whatches him in silent at first

As days go by they Erisol starts letting his anger out on him and Arquius just endures it, yelling back

over time they began arguing more often and over longer periods of time

The arguing tuned into conversations

And the conversations turned into pleasant chatting they would try to make last as long as they could.

Turns out Arquius is also mutant in the troll hemospectrum. He’s in the ship working his ass of in exchange for not being turned over to the authorities for culling. Traveling form place to place keeps him sorta safe, but they hold his life over his head every time they need to

They day before they were meant to reach the port, Arquius had already made up his mind. He might be stuck in the ship but he could still free his friend

But he wasn’t smart enough and got caught pretty easily. He got stabed and left to bleed by the Capitan Mindfang.

Suddenly the ship begins to shake and get engulfed by a giant moster. It’s Feferi’s lusus. Erisol’s friends are here to rescue him after several days of looking for the ship

The ship breaks and sink. The barrel is broken and Erisol is free

His brother and friend come get him but he doesn’t want to leave his dying new  friend

And Erisol as a last reasurce uses the majyykal power all mermaids have.

The four of them get out of the now sunken ship

Arquius is no longer a land walker, he’s a merman now. a mutant merman tecnically.

He joins the others and lives a happier life as a merman, becomes fefeta’s moirail, Erisol’s partner. Eridan and Feferi most likely don’t get married in the end.

Arquius no is no longer stuck in a ship and Erisol isn’t the only mutant. they’re just happier and chill in the ocean forever, 

The end

This is like, the typical super basic mermaid AU and a poor  excuse to draw Arqisol but they’re my guilty confort ship so yeah

I’m still working on the epilogue for those wondering, don’t worry :P i just took a break to complete commissions and, you know, get a fever and hallucinate a new AU, the usual

I hope you like this thingy i made. i love yah *muack*

🌸👍☀️

[goatyuuji]

Very heavily inspired by this art (x)

Teacher Geto AU where Geto has been assigned to take care of the second years after the Night Parade fiasco. The second years are obviously suspicious of him but Geto wants to prove to them he deserves this second chance (he doesn’t tell them but the way they were fighting for each other during the Night Parade made him realise that eliminating all non-sorcerers isn’t the only way to protect the young shamans). Things get a little more complicated when Geto makes Mimiko and Nanako join the Jujutsu High. He knows their codependency on him and on each other is very unhealthy so he hopes they can make friends with the second years but his daughters and his students mix like oil and water.

Fast forward to a few months, the second years have finally started to warm up towards Geto. Especially Yuuta who uses Geto’s understanding of curses to deal and work out with Rika. The only one who is still weary of him is Maki, who thinks the others are foolish for letting Geto win their hearts so easily. Maki knows Geto worries about his daughters too much and goes to challenge them for a duel, she is surprised when they decline it. But she is not the one to back down so easy, so after taunting them a little Nanako finally rises to the bait and accepts her challenge. Maki had thought it would be an easy win but she is surprised to find Nanako dodging her moves easily and even attempting to attack her. Maki still wins but she has to ask Nanako how she was parrying so quickly. Nanako tells her that Geto-sama used to teach them Marital Arts on weekends, so even though they still a little weak in CE and CT, their close combat is strong due to their father’s training.

Maki is, well, she is surprised because in the Zenin clan, the women are not allowed to learn combat, but here was the guy who she didn’t trust teaching these twin sisters to attack and defend regardless of their gender. So maybe, just maybe, this Geto guy couldn’t be that bad, at least he better than the Zenin clan men. So Maki learns to trust Geto a little, and the more she starts trusting the more she starts enjoying his classes. Also Maki, Yuuta, Panda and the twins start having a duel match every practice day and Geto can’t be more proud of himself and his students. And if Maki bonds a little closer with Nanako, well that’s just because they both share being the elder twins.

[yuttikkele]

I WOULD LIKE TO INTRODUCE TO YOU…. MY SPIDER-MAN REDESIGNS!

starring the lovely... the iconic... COFFEE BEAN GANG!!!

These are my go-to designs for the Spider-Man characters, but I also have my own AU just for them!

When I was redesigning the Coffee Bean Gang (again), I ended up conjuring a whole new plot. So, I present to you: the Spider-Delinquents AU! I have also dubbed this universe Earth-3974.

Synopsis: The government is overly corrupt and controlling. Peter finds himself wrapped up in legal troubles and gets sent to New York’s Holly Springs Institution of Correction, or just Holly Springs Reform School, after an accident involving Oscorp, Harry Osborn, and a fist fight. There, he sees how unjust the system is, and he and his newfound friends (Harry, Gwen, MJ, and Flash) work to put a stop to it.

Under the cut I have a little backstory for each of the characters leading up to how they got sent to Holly Springs Reform School!

Peter: After a trip to Oscorp, Peter starts to feel woozy. As he’s stumbling around trying to get home, he runs into Harry Osborn, literally. Harry pushes back, and the two get into a brawl that completely destroys the location they’re at. Unable to pay his debts and marked as a troublemaker by the government, Peter is sent to Holly Springs Reform School.

Peter starts out at Midtown High, where he is, of course, bullied by Flash Thompson. He doesn't have any friends while at Midtown, not because he's a nerd, but because he has a superiority complex and thinks he's too good for the kids who have the same interests as him, and nobody likes him because of it. Actually the closest thing he has to a friend at Midtown IS Flash, yeesh. Once he gets humbled, schooled by Uncle Ben, and surrounded by the people he thought he was above, Peter learns to be a better person and actually make friends. He will now die for those friends. Also Peter has heterochromia for no reason other than it looks cool. He says he's a skater boy but homeboy has no clue how to skate.

MJ: MJ grew up with an abusive dad and an unstable mother. By the age of 5, both of her parents lost custody of her. Instead of an orphanage, the government enrolled MJ in a reform school to “prevent her from turning out like her parents.” She is the kid who has been there the longest despite doing nothing to get sent there. Since she grew up there, Holly Springs is the only place MJ knows as home.

I always see complaints about MJ adaptations and how they're so distant from how she is in the comics. WELL, sorry to all the MJ purgers, but in my AU, MJ acts the most unlike her comic book counterpart. Instead of an extroverted, smooth, cool gal who slays the day away and can get any man she wants, this MJ is a shy, clumsy weirdo with little to no social skills. Since she wasn't around her parents for too long, MJ does not fear romantic relationships; however, being raised in a reform school, MJ has problems connecting with anyone in general. She can be described as the neighbor's kid who no one wants to play with because she's weird, but she's actually really nice. She has an undying optimism and hope that even the worst people can become good. Her personality is similar to Marina lida from Splatoon if that helps get the point across. While MJ and Peter become good friends, they do not ever feel romantic attraction towards each other in this AU. MJ is, however, a chronic piner and has a huge crush, you'll never guess who.

Harry: Harry was minding his own business (actually, tending to his FATHER’S business that he was assigned to do) when all of a sudden, he’s shoved to the ground. Looking around, he finds the culprit. Surely, this guy does not know that Harry is an Osborn, and Osborns do NOT get pushed around. Harry lunges back at him, and a fight ensues. After destroying the entire location, Harry is sentenced to reform school, and while his dad could easily pay off the judge, Norman thinks this experience will make Harry into a man.

Harry is an entitled rich kid who doesn't really know how to make friends. He hasn't really had to try since he's been able to entertain himself just fine with the money he has. Harry loves his dad and tries to do everything he says, but he usually falls short of Norman Osborn's extremely high expectations. Plus, he's starting to question if everything his dad says really has any merit. Regardless, he doesn't want to let his dad down and tarnish their family name, so he'll keep trying to become the man his father always wanted him to be.

Gwen: After not getting enough attention from her dad, Gwen starts to feel a defiance toward law authorities. This defiance only grows upon learning what work keeps her dad from coming home at night. Using her intellect, Gwen commits petty crimes in abstruse ways just to mess with the cops. She becomes particularly skilled with mechanics, metalwork, and chemicals. But, even the most careful artists make mistakes, and Gwen gets caught. Her dad, who surprisingly looks sad, has no choice but to turn her in.

Gwen and Harry do NOT get along. At all. It's probably because Gwen is a goth and Harry is the textbook definition of a prep. They're forced to get along but ooooh they do not like each other. They still become great friends, but the goth vs prep hostility is always there. Gwen dates Peter in this universe, but she breaks up with him before she can die. People know not to mess with her because she is very capable (another reason why she does not die), and she WILL haunt your nightmares. Everyone finds her creepy and scary besides MJ.

Flash: Actually, Flash doesn’t attend Holly Springs Reform School. Flash goes to Midtown High, Peter’s previous school. Though Flash bullies Peter, he doesn’t actually mean him any harm. So, when Flash hears Peter is being sent to H. Springs, he’s worried he tipped Pete over the edge. This scares Flash, worried he’s become like his father, and leads to him bettering himself. Little does Flash know he’s not done with Peter just yet.

Flash won't tell anyone this, lest it tarnish his bad boy persona, but he worked hard and bought his car with his own money. Since his no-good father is out of his life, Flash realizes there is no reason for him to be like his dad and pick on others to make himself seem better, so he starts his journey of improvement. Basically, Flash is in his healing arc while everyone else is in their "going thru it" arc. Flash's healing arc is interrupted by being dragged into whatever mess the rest of the gang's got themselves into.

[skzhua]

i like coffee better ('your eyes' series)

♡ "This is disgustingly cute."

pairing: kim seungmin x reader.

genre: fluff, barista!AU.

word count: 7,904

warnings: swearing, your typical barista imagine. (proofread-ish)

summary: seungmin has seen you before, but he never bothered talking to you. in fact, he did not care about you. when you came in the coffee shop in distress, he decided to be a good person for once and to make you a caramel macchiato in hopes to help you calm down. surprise: you do not like caramel macchiato, but you do like the young barista.

a/n: we are done with the series after almost 7 months! thank you for your patience and love on this one. i will surely do a similar project in the future since i had so much fun with this one.

SERIES MASTERLIST

"Thank you so much." you smiled at the barista, who only bowed slightly at you.

You grabbed your coffee from him and smiled at yourself. He was cute. You liked to believe you could get along with anyone no matter how different you were from each other. So yeah, the barista was cute, but unapproachable. Over time, you had unconsciously made it your mission to be his friend even though he made the task pretty difficult. Shop crowded or not, he had never paid much attention to you, sadly. However, you weren't the type to give up so easily. His cold façade was only a shell in your opinion.

You didn't have the time to think about this, though. Your friend, Byeol, was waiting for you from outside of the shop, impatience growing.

"Why do you have to take so long to just grab a coffee?" she asked as you began to walk towards the school building.

"I have specific preferences."

"Weirdo." she insulted in a friendly way.

Byeol might be the most careless person you had met in your entire life. First off, you were her only friend from what you could see. Secondly, she was barely listening in class, but still passed with flying colours. Thirdly, she lived alone and had close to no social interaction. It was on the first day of school that you spoke to her for the first time. The teacher had force the students to pair up, so you did so with the girl sitting next to you. Although she wasn't much of a talker, she was a good school partner. So you sticked with her ever since.

Unlike her, you were the perfect example of an ideal student. You would listen to everything in class while taking notes, study for hours, get grades over 90. Within all that, it still surprised you how you managed to be able to have a social life.

Arriving in front of your English class, Byeol whined at the simple fact you had to be there. Linking your arm with hers, you forced her inside and chose two places to sit.

"Be ready for three hours of hell." she complained.

"Come on, it's not that bad."

She shot you a glare. "From 1pm to 4pm, I could be doing other more important things. But no. I'm stuck here."

"With me~" you cooed while putting a hand under your chin to act cutely.

"Babe, I love you, but this class is shitty." she laughed.

When the teacher walked in, she quickly started the lesson. Taking a few sips from your coffee from time to time, your mind went back to the cute barista who had been serving you since you had started going there.

However, being already a few weeks into this school term, the woman in front of the class proceeded to present the main subject of the first big assignment. Unsurprisingly, it was about Shakespeare, which you had studied in previous school years. You put your focus on taking notes, but it didn't take much for you to lose it. Byeol being Byeol, she kept on dropping her pens on the ground as she played with them, bored out of her mind. Shooting her a glare, she smiled with guilt in her eyes and went back to occupying herself. One second later, another one fell off the ground. You ignored her this time, until she did it again and again. This time, you sent her a death stare and she chuckled apologetically. Huffing, you went back to your notes and to listening to the teacher.

"Byeol, would you mind telling us more about Hamlet?" she asked but your friend didn't budge.

You nudged her arm and her head shot straight up.

"Sorry, what?" she said in confusion, which only made you more frustrated with her.

The professor sighed, looking as disappointed as you were, and repeated. "I asked if you could explain the meaning of Hamlet."

The silence she gave was so loud, you were embarrassed for her. In the end, the teacher let go and went on with her lesson. A moment later, she started to explain the assignment. Filling up your notebook with your writing, you wanted to disappear only from seeing how severe her guidelines were.

"If you have any questions, do not hesitate to reach out to me. I'll end this class here so you can start preparing your assignment. I'll see you next week."

You put your books in your bag and stood next to Byeol's desk to wait after her. Although you had a pretty good idea of what you would be doing for the project, you couldn't be any more nervous. Tapping your foot on the floor, you impatiently waited for Byeol, who only gave you a look as she pointed to the ground. Following where she was pointed at, you smiled shyly.

"What? I'm stressed."

"You're always stressed." she scoffed as you left the classroom. "It's just a small assignment, nothing to worry about." she shrugged, but you could not believe how unbothered she was being.

"Small? Byeol, this grade counts for 20% of the semester. If I fail this, I'm failing the course. My parents are going to kill me if that happens." you almost yelled out of panic, but she rolled her eyes at you again.

"Says the girl who has perfect marks."

She did have a point. One factor she forgot was how easily stressed you could get, especially for school. Your parents had always been very strict with you when it comes to school and you couldn't imagine how it would be if you were to disappoint them. Hence, you were continually anxious with your grades.

"Okay, fair enough. This time, though, I really have no idea how I'm going to do with this project. She wants us to compare modern adaptations of Old English stories with their original but does she understand how much work this involves?"

You waited for an answer, but none came. Stopping on your tracks, you noticed how she had been ignoring your complaints. This was typical of her. You loved her, but she was always daydreaming somehow.

"Byeol." you snapped her out of her thoughts.

"I'm sorry. The class was so boring, it tired me." she smiled weakly.

You sent her a glare, annoyed at her behaviour. The both of you started to bicker while walking towards the bus stop. You could walk to your dorm, but you weren't a fan of walking in the cold unlike some others. After your tiny arguing was over, your bus stopped in front of you.

"I'm going to study at the coffee shop tomorrow, you're coming?" you asked but she shook her head no. "Alright, I'll see you next week, then. Have fun alone, tonight?" you teased her.

"Thank you, Y/N." she laughed as you finally went inside the bus.

It was barely a five minutes ride until you got home. Tired, you didn't even bother removing your coat when you plopped yourself down at your desk. Your flatmate, Eunhee, observed you curiously from her own desk, taken aback from your lack of energy. The girl kept to herself mostly, though she had started to open up more recently. She wasn't as much of an introvert as Byeol was, but still not as social as you.

"Long day?" she asked.

"Yeah." you groaned. "I've never hated school so much."

She hummed as she kept reading her schoolbook. "I have only six courses and I feel like it's too much."

"Tell me about it."

But you were going to make it. You knew you would, because you always managed just fine. Everything was going to go smoothly.

The only thing going smoothly was how quiet the coffee shop was for being 7 in the morning. Other than that, you were pure chaos as you had been staring at the project instructions blankly, lost about how you should start.

"Latte for Y/N?" the worker called from the counter, shifting your attention from your laptop.

You stood up and got your drink, thanking him, before walking back to your spot. You started to type some ideas, but it was still very blurry in your mind. You checked the instructions once again, and realized none if your ideas would be working. So you started over.

It had been a few hours since you had started, and you were getting hungry. You walked up to the cash register to wait in line. A muffin sounded tasty, but they had just freshly made new sandwiches. You opted to order both.

"Next." the worker said in a lazy voice.

"Hey! I'd like a ham sandwich with a carrot muffin, please!" you asked kindly, but the man raised an eyebrow at you.

"You're still here?"

"Pardon me?

The question took you by surprise. You had been, in fact, in the café for hours already. You didn't expect the workers to notice your elongated presence, even less this cute barista.

"No, because you've been sitting in front of your computer since we opened. I'm just wondering why you're still here."

Maybe he was concerned, but it came off rather direct. Almost as if he was annoyed about you studying at his workplace.

And Seungmin was, in fact, annoyed. He's not stupid, he's noticed how often you would come to his job location. So much that he had started to ask Felix to cover his shifts when he knew you had a break. Because it was to the extent he knew your schedule; you were always there. Usually, he wouldn't mind. However, you were one of a kind to say the least. You had tried to befriend him on many occasions. Seungmin strongly believed work wasn't a place to be making friends and that, instead, he should be focusing on executing his tasks and on the pay he would get in the end.

"Excuse me, but I like studying here. I have an important work to do." you informed politely, though you were quite offended by his comment.

"Sure." He focused back on the cash register, entering your order. "That would be $8.92. Credit again?"

You didn't bother confirming because you knew he already knew. You paid and stepped aside to wait for your food. In no time, he gave you the bag without addressing another word to you as he went back to the cash, taking the next client's command. Though he wasn't so different from other days, you felt like he was particularly good at getting to you this time. It might have been because of stress, but it still hurt.

Sitting back down at your spot, you stared blankly at your messy brainstorming as you chewed in your sandwich. You didn't even realize you were doing so until you finished your food, the muffin included.

Your eyes left the screen and you found Seungmin out of his work attire as he held onto his school bag. Raising an eyebrow at him, you waited for him to talk. Seeing that he wasn't going to do so himself, you started to talk.

"Can I help you with something?" you asked kindly.

"Why are you so... cheery all the time?"

You tried to muster up an answer but his question took you too much by surprise. As he noticed you weren't able to answer, he sighed.

"Forget it, that was stupid to ask. Good luck with your homework."

As you watched him leave, you found yourself smiling. He was literally the cutest guy you met and he had finally said something kind of friendly to you. Improvement, no?

Your leg jumping up and down, your teeth biting into your lower lip as you chewed the skin around your nail simultaneously, you were on the verge of giving up. This school work was eating your from the inside and everything you had done so far seemed like a waste of time.

"Still here?"

Your eyes left the screen and you found Seungmin out of his work uniform, a bag slumped on his shoulder. It was the third time you went to the shop in only a week, and funny enough, it was the third time Seungmin had finished work not even ten minutes after you settled at your usual table.

"Still surprised to see me?" you replied unexpectedly rudely.

Seungmin was taken aback. Usually, you would simply answer softly with a quick explanation and he would leave you with a shrug. This time, however, you seemed to be more on edge.

"What?"

You rolled your eyes. "You always tell me the same thing every time, I'm starting to wonder why it's such a big deal that I study here." Seungmin wanted to say something back, but you were quicker. "I mean, I'm surely not the only one who comes here to do their homework."

Mouth slightly agape, he didn't know what to say. With a satisfied nod, you went back to typing even if you were writing nothing really. He sighed heavily and left the shop and you saw Felix take over his shift. He walked up to you with a smile.

"Hey, Y/N!" he beamed at you.

"Hey." you responded carelessly.

He frowned. "Are you good?"

"Yeah, I'm just struggling a bit with this thing."

He leaned closer to see your screen. Slowly a crease appeared between his eyebrows in concentration as he read your project outline.

"Looks fun."

You grunted. "Real fun."

"Didn't Byeol do the same project?"

Your eyes widened. "Don't tell me that bitch finished before me? I thought she hated this class."

Felix shrugged. "Maybe she wanted to get rid of it as soon as she could. Good luck, anyway. If you need me, I'll be at the cash."

You waved him bye and sighed heavily as you read again your outline. In all honesty, you wanted to cry. You removed an entire paragraph plan and started to type something else. When you determined you had put something decent, you read yourself again and you found it to be no better than the last idea. With a loud groan, you let your head fall into your arms as you slumped on the table. Tears were pricking your eyes but you were determined to not let anyone see it. Still, it wasn't that easy to contain your quiet sobs.

"Here." you heard someone say as you felt the chair in front of you being pulled for them to sit.

You rose your head up and were more than stunned to see Seungmin extending a beverage to you. This was such a small gesture but the built up stress you'd been under made it seem like the greatest thing anyone could do for you. In an instant, you let more tears flood on your cheeks. It was Seungmin's turn to be surprised. Not knowing how to deal with you, he put the drink in front of you and gave you an awkward smile as an attempt to cheer you up.

"Can I do something else? Do you want a muffin like the other day?"

Great, this only made you cry more. In a rush, he went to Felix to ask him to get you tissues. He came back to you with a Kleenex box that you accepted gladly. After blowing your nose a few times and wiping off your tears. You finally breathed normally.

"I'm so sorry." you started as Seungmin straightened his posture as to tell you he was listening. "I've been under a lot of pressure with this paper and I have to submit it next week. I have no idea how I'm going to manage and... I'm sorry, I'm rambling on."

Seungmin chuckled. You thought you were dreaming. You heard the man chuckle.

"I get it. I have my own load of school work these days and it's a lot."

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it sucks."

He pointed to the cup in front of you. "I got you this, it might help."

"Thank you." you smiled kindly before taking a sip. As the beverage came in contact with your tasting buds, you weren't able to hide your face of disgust. "What is this?"

"Caramel macchiato."

"A coffee would have been just fine." you said as the weird taste was still in the back of your mouth.

He rolled his eyes. "As if I was supposed to guess you don't like it. Fine, I'll get you a muffin then."

Before you could protest, he was already up and walked behind the counter to steal one of the carrot muffins. Too stunned to speak, you just stared at him when he walked back to your table with the baked good.

"This, I know you like." he sighed as he switched it with your drink.

Carelessly, he took a sip from your cup. In your head, so many things were happening at the same time. One thing in particular stuck; what the hell happened to him to be so kind to you?

"I'm sorry but why are you doing this?" you questioned.

He perked an eyebrow in confusion. "To make you feel better... I thought it was obvious."

"It is but why?"

He wasn't sure exactly what was your question but he tried his best to answer. "I mean, you've been on the verge of crying so I thought you might need some distraction."

"Yes and thank you but I'm a little bit confused. I thought you didn't like me."

You did get him there. He didn't like you, indeed, but seeing you all panicked and helpless did something to him. He couldn't say what it was but there was a feeling within him of needing to help you relax. Perhaps it was simply because he was raised to be kind to those in need.

"I don't despise you. You're annoying as shit, sure, but I'm human too. I can see when someone is not well."

Finally, a smile formed itself on your face. After all of your efforts, he finally confirmed to you that he had the capability of being nice. You almost wanted to believe he did this for a purpose other than simply helping out someone. For exemple, because he actually did like you. However, you were not delusional to this extent.

"Well, I appreciate it a lot. Thank you, Seungmin."

"Sure, you're welcome." he said nonchalantly and took another sip of the caramel macchiato.

"It tastes nasty."

He huffed. "Well, you have no taste."

An insult, but you saw it more like teasing this time. Maybe this was his way to bond. Anyway, you were not going to complain. You got free food and it was more than necessary for you to like him. (As if you didn't already.)

"What is your major?"

He blinked slowly, surprised by your interest. "Biology."

You hummed. "Do you like it?"

He shook it head. "It's not that bad but I'm only in this field to get more opportunities. Maybe I'll change it but I don't know."

You nodded and then waited for him to ask you the same. It never came and Seungmin was still sipping on his drink while staring in the void, deep in thoughts.

"Well, I'm an English major. I'm considering teaching in kindergarten."

He didn't seem impressed. "Fun."

"I used to babysit my little cousins a lot before college." He hummed. "I think this is what made me what to go with teacher as a career."

"I wanted to do something nice to calm you down, not for you to tell me your whole life story." he deadpanned. "Sorry, I don't want to be rude but I'm not really in the mood."

You pursed your lips in an 'o' shape while nodding and you focused your eyes back on your laptop. The two of you stayed like this for a while in silence. You had done close to none advancement in your work but at least you had completed your outline. This was a start.

"I'll be going." Seungmin said and got up on his feet.

You saw that his cup was now empty so it only made sense he would leave then. Nonetheless, you were quite disappointed.

"See you around?"

He pondered for a moment. "We'll see."

There was only the conclusion left for your paper. The rest was completed in the last weeks you went to study at the coffee shop. Seungmin had seemingly stopped avoiding you much to your joy. Unlike what you would have expected, he continued to treat you some snacks once in a while as a way to encourage you with your work. It was always when he was done with his shifts and he'd bring you an ice americano with some words of support such as "looks like you did some good work", "keep up, it's almost done" or "don't stay here too late". At that point, you weren't even coming to the café to focus on your project. You only wanted to see him, consciously or not.

But when you realized so, you called Byeol in panic. Asking her if it was okay for you to stop by at her place on a normal Thursday morning, you stormed in without knocking. Making laps around her living room as she sat on her sofa while reading her notes for her next class peacefully, you were far from being relaxed.

"And then he gives me yet another muffin with sweet words only to greet me coldly again the day after. It's as if he has come around with the idea of me being at the shop all the time but being annoyed at the same time. And Byeol, when I tell you his smile is the cutest shit I've seen, I'm not kidding. And with the project ending, what is going to be my excuse to see him? He's still so distant when I bring up any topic other than honework."

She nodded nonchalantly, visibly spacing out. "Calm down, I'm sure it's not a big deal."

"The deadline is tomorrow, how can you ask me to calm down?"

She only sighed before turning her book's page. "I did it under four hours of work and you know I'm much slower than you. You'll be fine."

You scoffed in disbelief. "You don't get it. I'm not stressed about the work. I'm stressed Seungmin will stop giving me coffee each time he sees me in the shop."

In a quick move, she closed her book and stared at you in confusion. "You know Seungmin?"

Your eyes grew bigger. "YOU know Seungmin? And were you even listening to what I've been telling you for the past 20 minutes?"

Luck wasn't on your side as someone knocked on her door. She left to answer while you continued to groan by yourself. You debated whether you should ask him out or not. You did like him a lot but there were times you only wanted to shove him into a hole for being such an cold-heated ass.

Byeol came back with her mail and you took one of her pamphlets while she read another. Might as well try to distract yourself with boring school news. One thing did catch your attention. You held out the paper to your friend.

"You might want to read this one."

Snatching it from your hands, her eyes went over the paper and she whined. "Fuck this shit." Then another knock came from her door. "What now?"

Seeing that she was clearly not in the mood of facing someone else, you opened the door for her and you were surprised to see Hwang Hyunjin in front of you. From all you knew, Byeol had little to no friends other than you. You sent her a knowing look that she didn't even see unfortunately.

"Hyunjin? What brings you here?" she exclaimed as soon as she saw him.

"Ah, um... I thought we... I don't... I.... Didn't we agree on going to school together now since we have classes at the same time on Thursdays?"

Her eyes widened and you almost wanted to laugh at the two for being such a mess together. "Shoot, right, I'm sorry." she breathed out.

Seeing this as your cue, you grabbed your bag and put your hand on Byeol's shoulder. "I'll be off, then. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

You took off to leave the lovebirds alone and almost ran to the coffee shop. You were almost certain that Seungmin was working. So needless to say you only felt disappointment when you saw Felix smiling at the customers as he took their orders. Still, you needed to get your project done before the end of the day. You sat at your usual spot and opened your laptop before typing rapidly on the keyboard. Having only a couple of details to add, you were done only an hour or so later.

"I can't say you didn't work your ass off on this." Felix said in amazement.

Seeing he had taken off his apron and had his school bag with him, you assumed he had just finished his shift.

"I might have put more time into it than needed, but at least I know I'll submit something good."

"Yeah, at least." he chuckled. "By the way, Seungmin took the day off today if you were wondering."

"I wasn't." you dismissed his saying but he gave you a look. "What?"

"Nothing." he shook his head is despair. "See you around, Y/N!"

You were then left alone with only have the submission of your work left to do. Not having eaten your breakfast and with your tummy grumbling, you hopped up from your chair to walk towards the counter. Only then, you almost crashed into another student who you didn't see coming your way. Halting your moves, you now recognized the familiar features you grew to both love and hate with time.

"Kim Seungmin, be careful!" you exclaimed, slapping his chest. "You almost caused me a heart attack."

He only laughed as an answer. "I'm sorry but I didn't expect you to get up the moment I was about to join you."

With that being said, he sat at your table causing you to do the same besides the fact you were about to leave. Opening his school bag, he pulled out his own notebooks and started to scribble.

"What are you doing?"

He perked an eyebrow at you. "Studying... Isn't it obvious?"

"Yeah, but why here?" you asked while showing the entire place being half full.

"You're the only person I like to bother." he shrugged and went back to writing. "By the way," he said without looking up. "I asked Felix to save you a muffin and to make you an iced coffee but I guess he forgot."

You were too dumbfounded to for a proper response and by the lack of it, he finally looked at you before throwing money your way. You stared at it, still not moving. What the hell was he doing now?

"It's on me, go get something." he rushed you.

Almost afraid of him, you took the bills and walked up to the cash. You came back minutes later and gave him the change. Still not looking up from his things, he dismissed you and mumbled for you to keep it.

"Thank you."

"It's my fault you didn't get your snack, it's nothing." Finally looking up, he frowned upon seeing a cup in front of him. "Y/N, what is this?"

"I thought you might want something too." you answered before drinking your coffee. "I don't know what you like other than that, so you've got a caramel macchiato."

"Thanks, but it was for you to buy yourself something, not me."

"And I got my stuff, sorry for being kind." you rolled your eyes. "What are you so pressed about? It's just coffee and a muffin."

"Who's been getting you that for the past weeks?"

"I didn't ask you to."

"You still appreciate it."

You were growing annoyed. "Yeah, but what game are you playing? I'm not your girlfriend or even your friend. Have that courtesy reserved for someone like that."

He glared at you. "I don't have many friends or even a girlfriend. Can't you simply thank me and let it go?"

You scoffed. "Fine, my bad. Thank you." you snapped at him.

"You're welcome but enjoy your muffin and let me study."

You groaned but he ignored you as he continued to work on his things. You tried to get your mind off this stupid argument by finally submitting your project online and then started to pack your things in your back. Seungmin, visibly surprised, put his hand on your laptop to stop you.

"You're leaving already?"

"Yeah, I'm done with my project."

You thought you caught a glimpse of disappointment in his eyes but you blamed it on the sun that was hitting his face in the perfect angle. Damn him and his perfect visuals.

"I thought it was due next Friday."

"Tomorrow is Friday, genius." you laughed.

You nodded your head in his way before walking out. Taking a breath of fresh air, you had a weird feeling forming inside of you. You opted to walk to the campus instead of taking the bus since it might help with making it disappear. However, someone shouting your name loudly only tightened this strange feeling.

"Can I walk you to your classroom?"

"Okay, Seungmin. Don't take it personal, but what the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

Little did you know there was actually nothing wrong with him other than he realized he might had taken too much of a liking to you. After Felix convinced him to stop switching shifts for the sake of his spot as dance captain in the dancing club, he had to familiarize himself with the thought of having you around all the time. He didn't know why but your friendly behaviour you had been keeping up ever since he met you only got on his nerves.

But when he saw you almost on the verge of a burnout that day, something in him switched. Hence, he thought giving you free food would be his way to show that he cares in a subtle way. Only recently did he realize he liked you. And all of the bad and rude jokes were nothing than just some friendly teasing. But you couldn't know that.

"What do you mean?"

You grunted again. "You're acting all... nice. Well, more than usual today."

"Is it that hard for you to think I'm genuinely friendly?"

"Honestly, yeah. I'm weirded out a little."

He didn't respond this time and he took your hand in a quick manner before walking towards the school, still having the caramel macchiato you got for him in his other hand. You would have tried to break away only if he didn't have this much effect on you. The knot you had inside your tummy transformed into butterflies. You almost couldn't believe that he was being this bold with you.

"What time is your class ending?" he asked after he arrived in front of your classroom.

"At 3."

He smiled widely at you, rubbing the top of your head. "I'll come see you then."

You had no time to process what he said as he left. In all honesty, you had no idea what happened and debated on whether you wanted to wake up from this dream or for it to be reality. The voice of your teacher rushing the students to get seated at their desks was what it took for you to understand that this was all real, just really confusing.

Weeks passed by and Seungmin continued to walk you to your classes and get you afterwards only to hang out. You still went to the café often so nothing changed much in the end. You were grateful for him being so sweet but you remained doubtful of his motives. First off, the shift in his attitude was progressive but fast so you couldn't comprehend what caused it. And then, he'd be acting like a child around you at times that you were wondering if it was the same man you met before.

"I have a good idea." Seungmin declared as he dropped his books in front of you.

Startled, you jumped a little from his sudden appearance and glanced around the library to make sure he didn't bother another student. "And what is this good idea of yours?"

"The end of the semester is coming up soon, no?" You nodded. "And I think meeting up at the café or the library has become a bit dull."

"What is your point?"

"I've been wondering what kind of date would be nice and I asked Jeongin to help me with this-"

You held your hand up to stop him. "Woah, there. A date?"

"Yeah." he nodded happily while you stared at him in shock.

"Seungmin, we're friends, right?"

He shrugged. "I thought you liked me. Was I wrong?" You hesitated to say something causing him to roll his eyes. "Okay, so the nice tipping and the cute not-so subtle glances from last semester were nothing?"

Your eyes widened. You did, in fact, try to catch his attention by doing those small things but you didn't expect anything to come out from it since he was being so indifferent. But ever since you got closer, you had suppressed your feelings to avoid things to be weird with him.

"Maybe you weren't wrong." you admitted in a whisper.

He grinned. "Knew it. Alright, I'll do this more properly then."

"Do what?"

Instead of answering, he took your hand and looked deeply into your eyes. You felt intimidated to say to least.

"Y/N, will you go on a study date with me?"

Your eyes grew even wider. "What?"

"You heard me."

You broke you hand away from his grasp and gathered your things quickly. Giving him a quick apology, you ran off.

It was certainly not because you didn't want to. This was too unexpected. And right before the final exams? He chose his timing well...

Catching up to you in the hallway, he put his hand on your shoulders to stop you. "I'm sorry if this is too straightforward but can I at least get an answer?"

You still couldn't form words other than something that sounded like "Uh?"

"Look, I already got something prepared for you. Can you come see it? If you don't want to stay by then, you're free to leave."

Reluctantly, you nodded which earned you a smile from him and he took your hand. Walking away from the school grounds, you were starting to feel uneasy. Where the hell was he taking you to? The further you were going, the less familiar your surroundings were. Eventually, Seungmin attempted to appease your worries by making a couple of jokes here and there. Before you knew it, you had stopped watching around as you let yourself being guided by him.

"I rarely see Jeongin like this but he is obsessed with this girl." he chuckled as you seemed to approach a family house.

"Where are we?" you asked as you stopped on your tracks, growing doubtful.

"Changbin's place."

"Doesn't he live on campus?"

"His parents' place, then. They are gone for the week and Changbin let me use his backyard."

Before you could question him again, he headed towards the fence door that let to the back. You followed behind and he stepped aside to let you walk first. Needless to say, the setup caught you off guard. A coffee table was displaying books and mugs as well as a coffee maker.

Seungmin excitedly walked towards the spot while gesturing for you to sit with him. You complied in silence, unsure on what to say.

"You know that book you need for your literature course?" he said and you hummed. "I know you've been struggling to get a hold of it so I asked Chan to use his model student status to find it."

You looked closer to the book laying on top of the pile. Indeed, it was the one your professor had been telling you to get since the beginning of the semester. With you being the person you are, you thought you would be able to buy it later on since you only needed it for the finals. Lucky enough for you, it was now out of stock and you had begged Byeol to give you hers once she was done. Only this girl was taking forever to finish it which only fed your anxiety.

"Using your friends for me? Man, you must like me a lot for you to do." you chuckled.

"Right."

"This is disgustingly cute..." your murmured, loud enough for him to hear.

His face grew red before he hurried you to start reading. As you began to do so, he served you a cup of coffee as well as one for himself and went on to do his own stuff. It was pure silence but you could hear your heart beating so loud. You glanced at him a couple of times just to make sure he wasn't hearing it.

And Seungmin was doing everything he could to focus on his book. However, your presence made his hands sweaty and he was struggling to prevent himself from looking at you.

Minutes went by, hours went by. And he looked.

And you were looking back.

Panic mode went on in your brain and you squirmed on your seat to find a better position. You attempted to go on with your reading but you just couldn't.

"Y/N." he called out.

You were almost glad he spoke first, diffusing the tension already. And the smile he gave you before sticking out his tongue made you laugh more than it should have. You were about to read again but he made you another face, one so ridiculous that you shook your head while chuckling.

Seungmin felt a rush of confidence all of the sudden. If he had managed to make you laugh, then he definitely succeeded in making this a perfect date. Maybe it was time to test how much he can joke around with you.

"Look at this."

Your gaze moved to the picture he was pointing at in his own book. You weren't sure why he would want to show you a picture of a squirrel, you frowned.

"It looks like you."

You scoffed. "Yeah right."

"No, it does! It's fluffy and you look soft. Squirrels eat a lot, you do too-" he went on to explain but the glare he received shut him up for a second. "And they're cute... just like you."

You didn't know how to react, you were certainly not used to receive this kind of attention, especially from Seungmin. Your lack of response kind of made freak him out, though. Sure, he grew confident but the worst thing after a rejection is no answer at all. Nervously, he took a sip of his drink and resumed to his reading.

"Thank you." you ended up saying. "And thanks for the whole... thing?"

"Date." he corrected.

"Right. Thank you for the date."

And, so, one date turned into two, two dates became three, three became four, and so on. In the span of three weeks, the two of you had almost become inseparable. Remaining his unserious self, Seungmin still showed you in many ways that he cared a lot. The way he would pull the chair for you to sit, order your muffin at the café, prepare your orders in advance as he knew you'd be coming. He checked up on you every morning and night, making sure you either slept well or had a good day. He walked you to almost all of your classes and sometimes even waited outside of the room until you were done.

Although you had never asked the other, it was evident you were a couple. Still, there had been nothing more than holding hands. And even that remained something you were not quite familiar with yet.

"Hey."

You jumped slightly from the contact with your hand while Seungmin was smiling happily. Rubbing your skin softly with his thumb, he looked at you with affection.

"Oh, hi."

"Hi."

"Hi." you chuckled at how ridiculous you two were being.

"So... What's the plan for today?"

Dates were usually planned by Seungmin but you had insisted on your last one that you wanted to surprise him for once. Meeting up at the park near school was the only thing you told him so far.

"I recall that you mentioned liking singing, am I wrong?"

He gave you a look. "What about it?"

"I don't know music much nor do I know what you like. However, I might have arranged something even better."

You tightened your grasp on his hand and headed out of the park. Seungmin let you lead but was quite lost. You were always full of surprises but this one worried him just a bit.

You had been walking for quite a bit. Even if Seungmin was bugging you every ten minutes to ask you where you were going, it didn't stop you from joking around and laugh.

"Seriously, where are we going?" he said, finally having enough of it.

Your smirked. "Karaoke?"

His already serious look turned darker as he glared down at you. "No."

You pouted. "Why not?"

"It's embarrassing."

"I'm sure you're a great singer."

"It's just a small hobby." he shrugged before starting to walk back to where you came from.

With a huff, you grabbed his arm and tried to keep him from running away. You tugged a couple of times but he was much stronger than you and not moving the slightest.

"Seungmin!" you whined as you stopped trying.

Rolling his eyes, he turned to face you. "What do I get in return?"

"My care and admiration?"

He let out a laugh. "I already have it."

"What do you want then?" you groaned.

He looked up as he thought for a second. "A kiss?"

A... a kiss? You opened your mouth but no sound came out. It was evident it would happen one way or another. However, your mind seemed to have shut this idea out. Was it because you were scared? Maybe.

"Hey." Seungmin said as he took your hand. "If you are not ready, I won't push it. I said it as a joke."

You watched his other hand move to your cheek and you felt your breath cut short. You swore you could feel your heartbeat fasten.

"Shall we go?"

You blinked once and twice, and smiled. "Yeah, let's go."

While Seungmin offered to pay, you insisted that it was on you. It was your idea after all and you absolutely didn't mind spending money if it meant you finally would hear Seungmin sing.

When you got into the room, you sprinted to sit on the couch while grabbing the tablet on the table. Seungmin watched you with adoration before joining you. There was something so darned adorable about you scrolling through the songs as your eyes shined. He could see them lit up every time you'd see a song that caught your attention.

"I'll start, and then your turn?" you said as you showed him the song you picked.

"Impress me."

With a grin, you started the music and stood up to pick one of the microphones. As the melody began, you swayed your body side to side to match with the beat. As the lyrics came up on the screen, you lost no time in giving your all. Your vocals were not good per say but they weren't horrible. In fact, Seungmin liked your voice quite a lot. There was a hint of passion in it that was mixed with simple fun. He loved how it looked as if there was no one watching you. You were glowing.

"Done!" you said happily and clapped for yourself. "Your turn."

"Do I get a kiss in the end?" he wiggled his eyebrow only to receive a smack from you. "Ouch! Sorry..."

He scrolled through the songs and it seemed to have taken him hours before he settled to one. The soft music surprised you, you would've bet he was the pop music kind of guy.

You could see he was nervous, that was obvious. The way he fiddled with the mic, how he kept on looking at you, how he bit his lower lip in hesitation. But still, he brought the microphone to his mouth and he sang. It was simply beautiful, you found no better words to describe it. You didn't know a voice could soothe your ears so much, it felt as if they had never heard anything before. You were just speechless.

You almost cried when you realized it was the end of the song, not wanting this moment to end. When Seungmin set the mic down on the table, you jumped up and squeezed him in a tight hug. He held you back automatically while you were attempting at your best to compliment him.

"Why are you hiding this talent? Since when do you- why don't you sing more? This was so pretty! Can you make a career out of this?"

"Woah, calm down." he laughed while hrabbing both of your shoulders. "Thank you but it really is just a hobby."

"Then I'm the only one who gets to hears this, I'm gate keeping you all to myself." you affirmed.

"You're cute."

He laid a kiss on top of your head and you frosmze in place. Slowly, you dared to look up at him and he was much closer than you originally thought. You could smell his minty breath mixed with the cologne he must have put on beforehand.

"And you're very pretty." he added in a quieter voice.

Your eyes moved to his lips and there was no denying he wanted to lean in closer. You wanted to. You ignored the overwhelming of butterflies in your stomach and stood higher on your tippy toes. Results; your lips touched. It barely lasted a second as you pulled away quickly, almost ashamed of what you had just done.

Seungmin didn't waste any time to grab the back of your neck and pull you right back into a kiss. This time, it was long enough so you could feel how his lips felt so perfect on yours. It was better than you imagined.

As you pulled back, you couldn't help but shed a tear, worrying quickly your lover.

"What's wrong?"

You shook your head. "Nothing. It's just, I think I'm in love with you."

His mouth broke into a smile. "I think I'm in love with you too. Why are you crying, though?"

"I don't know, I'm happy?"

"You don't seem too sure."

Your lips turned into a pout, making him chuckle. "Stop, you meanie..."

He couldn't take you seriously, you were too cute like this. Pecking the top of your nose, he brought you closer to his body.

Whilst his cold façade was always something that intrigued you, what you wondered more was why was his body so warm next to yours? And how on Earth did you manage to actually get with him?

Whatever it was, you could definitely say coffee wasn't your addiction anymore. It was him now.

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[ane-doodles]

Hello! Love your multiple Lambs and your artstyle! You, me, @poppy-purpura, and @agnusloomis are the only ones I know of currently with multiple Lambs. Tell me of your Sorrow and Fondness Lamb, and also the Showman. How did those two come to be? Drink water plenty. May a kind week grace you.

Yayayaya! At first I tried to resist having so many AUs... but in the end it's something that makes me happy, even if I'm not able to write/draw a good story for everyone in the end.

Oh yes rambling time LETS GO!! (notice that a LONG post is coming)

Suemy (Fondness & Sorrows AU) This is born from a kind of "What if" from Chain for a promise, in which instead of Avana being the last lamb, the one who survives is her twin sister Suemy.

If you have had the opportunity to read my little ramblings previously you will have an idea of what this entails, if not I will tell you already: in CFP the tragedy occurs two days before Suemy's wedding, she and her partner being the first to die, followed by the parents of the family and finally Caleb (the older brother) who dies protecting Avana.

However, in F&S the formula changes: Caleb and Suemy's partner are the first to die in order to give the sheeps time to escape, but this does not last more than a couple of days since both are found easily and in an attempt desperate to protect her sister, Avana dies, leaving Suemy alone as the lamb of the prophecy.

Suemy is someone sweet, kind, I originally designed her based on the image of a princess with a heart of gold and a soft and melodious voice. So here she is now, heartbroken, alone, incapable of attachment, completely detached from the cult and fulfilling a mission assigned to her while grief suffocates her. She becomes an untouchable and perfect figure in the eyes of her followers, but inside so small with a wound that she herself refuses to let heal and that bleeds her heart every day.

But, "oh lucky one... A god has set his eyes on her.

In two lives immersed in the sadness of loss and betrayal, both meet to perhaps repair a little of the damage accumulated by the passage of time and repressed feelings.

Narinder was initially hardened by the pain and frustration of his siblings' betrayal, combined with the helplessness of being dependent on someone else to free himself. A whirlwind of strong and changing emotions within him that blind his vision, focusing only on a revenge calculated for more than a thousand years without rest...

But a hardened heart is capable of softening in the face of the purest tears, and with a delicate hand the wounds can be sutured..."

This AU is a kind of Post-Canon bad ending Hurt/Comfort. There is not much plot to tell, it focuses mainly on the thousand and one ways in which Narinder cares for and pampers the lamb in order to make her feel good, while at the same time the desire for revenge (the main reason for being freed) is replaced with the desire to protect such a delicate flower that bleeds in his hands.

.......

Now, about The Showman... Funny story

This lamb was supposed to be my Lambsona, something for personal use to scribble among my class notes... But little by little it evolved.

The Box AU is a sort of "bin of discarded ideas" (it basically has all the ideas, scenes, and dynamics that I decided to leave out or modify from CFP but still enjoy). The Box AU is totally self-indulgent and I'm still amazed today at how far I've come in thinking about this AU (I've even considered twisting it a bit and turning it into an original story).

Anyway, the story in a nutshell: In short the game was broken.

Einar is a black sheep, they was separated from the group due to superstitions, but they never took It the wrong way. They became a kind of traveler/storyteller when they abandoned their flock, thanks to this they was the last lamb to survive.

The lamb is strong... Too strong actually, but they lacks any battle skills which makes them die often (it's based on my save file, because despite playing on easy mode I'm terrible at combat). Frustrated with this, they decides to find another way to complete their mission of freeing The One Who Waits.

By chance, they discovers a book with ancient knowledge of the gods of the ancient faith, where there are multiple rituals forgotten by time. Thanks to this, they learn a way to invoke the god of death and free him from his punishment!! ...But with the price that he is now trapped in a mortal body with his powers reduced and a suppressed rage towards the lamb.

Even so, Einar considers it a victory and offers to help him rebuild, expand and please the cult, so that through devotion his powers return, but of course, the crown is missing.

It turns out that the crown is "stuck" to Einar's head, as they were designated as the perfect vessel, which is why the crown rejects the cat's attempts to retrieve it. On one occasion Narinder reviews the ancient book of the lamb and discovers a possible solution to his problem... A union ritual. Once he and the lamb unite the power of the crown will be divided, then it will be a matter of getting rid of the usurper.

Either way, this won't be so easy. Since in this AU Narinder and the lamb don't really know each other (the ritual happens before confronting Leshy). So there you see Narinder behind the lamb trying to convince him of a marriage while Einar rejects him a thousand and one times without the slightest interest and trying to discover a way to grow the cult.

I love the dynamic between these two in this AU. A combination of comedy, silliness, misunderstandings, adorableness, and a manhwa-style romance (because hey, the marriage of convenience trope has to come from somewhere).

I like to imagine that between Narinder's frustrated attempts to conquer/convince Einar, he gradually develops a special affection for them, while for his part the lamb sees the god as a companion, a friend and someone with whom maybe they wants to identify himself in some way (you know... A black sheep and a black cat)

And well! This is a kind of summary/introduction!!

I'm sorry for making such a LONG text, but I really like thinking about them and the idea of sharing a bit of my brainrot was too tempting to contain...

F&S doesn't have much material currently, but I'm drawing a couple of sketches from time to time (still figuring out how to do Narinder's post-imprisonment design).

On the contrary, Box AU has a considerable amount of material, scenes, ideas, sketches and even its own shitten with a sequel! So if you're interested in that let me know and I'll make a super post dedicated to this AU.

Have a wonderful day!!