#but becomes like actively repulsive

[littleeyesofpallas]

明けの女医と宵の魔女～僕と彼女のみだらなカルテ～

[swagging-back-to]

most mouse owners;

you should only keep 2 mice in a 75 gallon tank!!!

also if you put them in a 75 gallon tank they get anxious and skittish and have social issues and fight eachother!! 75 gallons is too much space for 2 mice!!!! but also it's abuse to put them in anything smaller than a 75 gallon!!!

also you shouldnt keep more than 4 mice at a time bc then they fight and kill eachother and 'fracture' as a colony!!!!1111!!11!!!! but you shouldnt keep less than 4 bc then theres [insert problem here]

like yall seriously know jack shit. full on. jack shit. it is honeestly laughable how many mouse owners will spout all of this bullshit depsite having no experience at all. blatantly contradict themselves in the same breath and they play a huge game of telephone, vomiting up whatever the last myth they heard was.

let's go through these myths one by one, shall we?

you should never have only two mice. period. the minimum amount of mice you should keep to have a functioning mischief and colony is 5. i speak from experience. look at their biology and wild counterparts' behaviors. they come from HOUSE MICE. meaning they live in very large colonies in small spaces like the gap in your walls. if they get down to <5 of course theyre going to be scared. theyre in constant survival mode bc it's like theyre the last two mice left alive on earth, in their minds.

they dont. and if they do, it's bc the owner is failing to provide any clutter or a proper amount of enrichment and hides. it is PURELY on the owner and their own failings. If your mice are skittish in a big tank it's bc you didnt decorate it properly or YOU HAVE TOO SMALL OF A GROUP OF MICE. (or that you never bonded with them, all of these are the OWNERS FAULT.)

again. the MINIMUM is 5 mice to have a happy and healthy colony. i've kept groups ranging from 2 mice up to 12 mice. guess which ones were the most dysfunctional, stressed, and scared. ding ding dinggggg it was the groups of 2 and 3. my groups of 8+ mice have always been the happiest, most sociable and stable, and healthiest. only my smaller groups (5 or less) have ever 'fractured' and had territory issues. NEVER have my large groups done it. the only people you will ever see spreading this myth are people who have had, at most, four mice at a time. You will NEVER see anyone who has had a large colony say it.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

katsuki is pissed the fuck off.

it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell. whenever he's angry he makes it extremely obvious and most of the time it becomes everyone's problem. but it's weird to you because he was fine like, 5 seconds ago.

until 5 seconds ago he'd gotten back from buying groceries for the class and kissed you on the forehead as a greeting. he'd even brought the oranges you'd begged him to get last minute because you'd randomly been craving them, even after saying he wouldn't (but you both knew he would.)

but now he's pissed, and you have no idea why.

he's not saying anything either, but he keeps huffing and clicking his tongue every once in a while, fist pressed hard against his cheek and his jaw locked tightly chewing on the little piece of the own orange he'd been eating and finished a bit ago.

you keep munching on your piece of orange as you stare at him, and then you poke at his cheek. he grunts, shooing your hand away and leaning away from you.

"what's got you so grouchy ?" you tilt your head with a raised brow, he scoffs. readjusting his leg on the couch. you fight the urge to roll your eyes. he's ignoring you now ?

"katsuki."

silence.

"katsukiii-"

"it's nothin'." he growls, huffing through his nose.

this time you do roll your eyes "sure, that's why you're being all cranky." slowly, you inch towards his spot on the couch where he'd secluded himself away. he hasn't left the room and he doesn't react to you getting closer besides a slight side eye, so you know he's probably just being dramatic.

his nose scrunches up at your wording and he pretends he doesn't notice you lifting his arm up to lay in them. he doesn't comment on how he almost immediately changes his position to make you more comfortable.

"m'not cranky." he spits, eyebrows contorting and a pout settles onto his face "not a baby."

could've fooled me you think, but you decide against actually saying it. you're smile widens when his eyes narrow once he meets yours, he pinches your side "quit starin' at me."

"katsukiii. what's got your panties in a bunch ?" you coo and katsuki gives you the most repulsed look you've ever seen him make.

"don't ever say that ever again, i'm so fucking serious." he groans at your giggling, leaning his head away and shoving his palm in your face to get away from you like he couldn't just leave the room instead of actively pulling you closer to him. really, could've fooled you.

"ya didn't let me peel yer orange for you.." he mumbles grumpily.

you blink up at him "..what ?"

eyebrows furrowing just at the memory, he continues "was gone for three seconds to put away the damn groceries an' here you go, prancing around me, throwin' your peel away in the trash right in front of me."

oh, wow.

"katsuki. really ?"

"you know i always do it for you. yn." he sasses.

"that's why you were so mad at me ?" your giggles muffled by him pressing your head into his shoulder in a headlock.

"you were busy !" you fight weakly.

"so ? if you've got shit to do you come to me, i woulda done it in two seconds. peeling oranges doesn't take that long, dummy."

you keep giggling as you try to fight him off before you hear him snort and he releases you.

as stupid as it may sound, katsuki isn't the best when it comes to letting his affection be known through words, so you know how much acts of services, as small as they are, mean to him.

you sometimes forget how much he loves to do little things for you. throwing away your little candy wrappers, or already unwrapping your ice cream for you. or absentmindedly fixing up and sorting out your desk, or bookshelf when he sees your manga out of order or sticking out too much. the little ways he cares for you make your heart flutter. you smile up at him and offer him a piece of orange. he scowls at it.

"don't want your stupid orange." he mutters childishly, but you don't have enough time to pull away to eat it yourself before he grips your wrist. bringing it up to his mouth to eat it anyway. you roll your eyes with a fond smile.

"i'll be sure to leave the orange peeling to you from now on." you jest. he grunts in approval, softly chewing on the slice of juicy orange before patting your wrists, signalling he wants more. and you snort, but you still hand him another piece. his warm grip on your wrist remains even though he could very well just take it out of your hands. he hums again when the taste kicks in.

"you better, i mean it. otherwise it's your funeral."

thank my lovely lovely moot @kovu-bunnbunn for this lovely idea ! tysm twin ! :3

[flametrashiraarchive]

Can I request n/sfw headcanons for muzan x non violent demon reader?

(⁠っ⁠˘⁠з⁠(⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)

YES YES YES

Okay so you know this got my cogs turning and it ended up being more of a short story instead of headcanons lol. And yeah, I went with the idea of the reader being a demon who can draw strength from Muzan in... other ways 😏

Also this was an excellent excuse for me to write a "Muzan losing his composure and coming completely undone" fic so thank you thank you thank you 🛐

I hope you like it!

NSFW under the cut!

Succor - Muzan x Reader

(Non-violent demon reader, GN!Reader)

You were a curiosity. Another demon who did not consume human flesh– only the third such demon Muzan had heard of in a thousand years, and the only one of those three who wasn't actively revolting against him.

However, the thought did occur to him to simply dispose of you. You were defective after all, still clinging to your humanity. And you were weak too; slowly starving. 

Muzan had no use for you… and yet… and yet…

Perhaps it was simple morbid curiosity, or perhaps it was the wasted potential he saw in you. Before he transformed you into a demon you were beautiful, but once imbued with his strength and blood, you were divine… magnificent. And you were frittering that gift away.

"Explain yourself to me," he said as you knelt before him, barely clinging to your senses while he sat, poised and elegant as ever. "Why are you suffering like this for the sake of mortals? Why do you refuse to consume humans?"

"It's repulsive," you answered. He could hear the weakness in your voice even as you stared defiantly back at him.

The only blood you had ever consumed was Muzan's at the moment of your creation, and your body seemed to recognize that. The hunger in your eyes was palpable. It thrummed in the air between you. Your survival depended on getting more of it. You craved it.

Your stubbornness was obvious too, and if the past thousand years had taught him anything it was that minds like yours could not be changed with violence and threats. No, he had to win you over gently. He would have to love you into becoming the monster he needed. He would adore you into submission.

He leaned forward in his seat and placed two fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face toward him. "You would be a very special demon if you would only feed."

Oh, your hunger was dizzying. You were fighting so hard to retain your composure. He slowly dragged his thumb across your lower lip, relishing the way your eyes closed in response to his touch.

You were lovely, despite your defects. 

"Eat," he said, his lips so close to yours he could feel the warmth of your breath on his skin. "Please. I do not wish to see you fade away."

He placed a tender kiss on your lips, and another and another. You were so fragile, so drained.

Then something in you switched.

His eyes widened as you suddenly gripped the back of his head, pulling him to you with a ferocity he did not think you were capable of. 

Overpowering you still would have been easy; as simple as swatting away a gnat. But this sudden burst of strength was intriguing. You kissed him deeper and deeper, your tongue easing past his lips as a soft, satisfied moan emerged from you.

Something twinged, low in Muzan's belly. It had been centuries since he felt anything akin to desire, but you were seemingly intent on unraveling him. With every passing second your passion blazed hotter… and your strength was growing. 

Your fingers clung to him with an iron grip, as if your very survival hinged on his kiss. His crimson eyes widened once more as the realization hit him– you were in fact drawing strength from kissing him. It seemed his saliva had the same effect on your demonic body as his blood. 

He kissed you deeper still, intrigued and excited by your newfound vigor. After a thousand years of living, Muzan had assumed he had seen everything, but there you were, proving him wrong. You were so greedy for it too, your kisses so passionate and hungry they made the world tilt a little. 

He pulled back to examine you. "My dear, I–"

His breath caught in his throat as your hands went straight to the fastening of his trousers. Your eyes were near black with primal hunger as you pulled out his semi-hard cock. You wrapped your lips around it without hesitation and began to suck his tip. 

"Ohh~" Muzan choked out, gripping the sides of the seat as your tongue swirled around the head of his dick and teased his slit. 

It didn't take long for him to go from semi-hard to achingly erect. The power you wielded over his body, his helpless involuntary reaction; it was humiliating. And yet he did nothing to stop you. His breaths shivered out of him as he fought with everything he had not to buck his hips up into your mouth so you would take him all.

"How… dare… y– nghh…" his back arched as you palmed his balls, and wrapped your other hand around the base of his cock, milking him with that same hunger you had while kissing him. 

Oh gods, that was it, wasn't it? You wanted his seed, you needed it to sustain your continued perverse existence. You would not consume human flesh but you would draw power from him instead.

"You filthy little thing," he whispered through gritted teeth as you lapped up each bead of precum dripping from his cock. 

Your eyes were no longer lifeless; they glittered with vitality. 

Muzan's thighs trembled as your lips slid up and down his shaft , taking him to the very back of your throat, licking and sucking like the greedy degenerate you were. 

The wooden arm rests of the seat creaked and splintered beneath Muzan's fingers as he squeezed them, gasping as the pressure in his core became unbearable and he drew closer and closer to release.

"You want it, don't you… hm? Ohh, yes, you want my cum. I'm going… I'm going to give it… to… y–" He gasped for air, shattering the arm rest entirely. "Ohhh… ffffuck…"

He came undone, deep, guttural cries emerging from him as you swallowed his spend with fervor until he was sure he had nothing left. 

And then you kept on sucking. 

"M-more…" you growled as you continued to lap at his overstimulated cock, pressing your hand to his belly and holding him down.

His hand darted up to the wall above his head with such force the wood shattered beneath his palm as he released a choked cry. Gods, what were you other than his undoing? The pathetic, broken sounds of his whimpers enraged him but he would not stop you.

Heat prickled across his entire body. His face was flushed and gleaming with a fine mist of sweat which only added to his humiliation.  All that strength and power, yet he was helpless as you sucked his cock. 

"Damn you, damn you…hhhgh…"

His second orgasm tore through him like a beast with its claws drawn. Your greedy mouth claimed him entirely, swallowing down every drop of his essence as he came again. 

"Ohh Gods… oh Gods you filthy wretch…" his body shuddered as his pleasure waned and you finally ceased your sucking. 

Still, you gazed at him and audaciously lapped his tip, ensuring you'd got every last drop. And when you were finally satisfied you sat back, as a contented smile spread across your lips. 

Muzan took your face between his hands and inspected you. Your eyes were burning with vitality. Your skin was flushed and warm. You were rejuvenated completely, as if you had consumed a hundred mortal souls.

Your beauty and power were unlike anything he had ever seen. Such a curiosity.

Further study was most definitely required. 

"Fascinating," he whispered as his pulse slowly returned to normal. "Yes, I think I'll keep you here with me."

[vigilante-3073]

Daddy's Credit Card

Cullen Family x Female Vampire Reader (Platonic)

PART 10

Summary: Bella endures her transition to a Vampire while Y/N's condition continues to worsen.

TW: Mentions of death/injury/illness, lack of regard for the feelings of others, medical testing, needles, blood.

The Cullen family was left unscathed after Jacob imprinted on Renesmee. The Wolves were forced to abandon their quest to kill the child, but tensions were still high. Y/N had been released from her quarantine and had finally been allowed to move about the house freely.

She took full advantage of her newfound freedom, but there were some things that Carlisle still wouldn't allow. Y/N was not to step foot outside the house unless someone was with her. She became quickly exhausted after any kind of physical activity and her heart beat would become irregular. Carlisle was strict about her having a companion in case something were to happen.

Y/N walked along the road with Jacob Black by her side. He had been focused on Renesmee since he had imprinted, Bella was still in transition and he felt responsible for the baby girl. Jacob had been incredibly tense as he watched over Renesmee and Carlisle encouraged him to take a moment away. Jacob went reluctantly and the pair walked in silence until he looked over at her.

"Why exactly do you need a babysitter?" Jacob asked.

"I'm dying," Y/N stated simply.

"What? I thought that Vampires couldn't die unless they're torn apart," Jacob said.

"Apparently they can... I bleed, I cry, I eat and my body is falling apart for no apparent reason," Y/N said.

"That sucks," Jacob said.

Y/N huffed a laugh, "Yeah, it does," She replied.

"Still doesn't really explain why I'm following you around though," Jacob said.

"Carlisle said that my heart beat is irregular. He's worried that something could happen to me while I'm alone," Y/N stated.

"Have you left your house at all since you started becoming human?" Jacob asked.

She glared at him, "I am not a human," She corrected quickly.

"Well, whatever you are then," He amended.

"No, you and your wolf friends had my house surrounded. Remember?" Y/N questioned.

"So, you're pretty new to not being a bloodsucker then, huh?" He asked.

"I guess you could say that," She replied.

"Do you want to go into town for a bit? Maybe we can get some actual food," He offered.

"I would do anything to leave that place right now. Since Bella died, Carlisle has devoted the entirety of his time to testing me for anything he can possibly think of. Then I have to sit there and watch Edward stay by his wife as she magically comes back from the dead. Don't even get me started on that rapidly growing demon that they produced... It's like my own personal hell," Y/N said.

Jacob laughed and Y/N shot him a serious look, "I didn't realize that I said something funny," Y/N said.

"It may not be funny, but it is ironic because I was in love with Bella and I was ready to kill Edward when she died. Then I went to get the baby to hand over to the pack and in some ridiculous twist of fate, I actually imprinted on her. Now I practically live in the house with the guy I hate, the girl I used to love and their daughter," Jacob said.

"If I weren't going to die horrifically, I might actually say that you have it worse," Y/N replied.

"We're just two of the luckiest people around, huh?" He questioned, she nodded.

"Where are you taking me then?" Y/N asked.

"A diner. I'm going to get you the biggest and most greasy burger they offer along with fries and a milkshake," Jacob listed.

"All of that sounds absolutely repulsive, but I'm excited to try it," She said.

"Good," Jacob nodded.

The pair returned to the house and Y/N went up to tell Carlisle that she was leaving. She returned after a few minutes with a pair of car keys dangling from her finger.

"He said no to the motorcycle," She stated.

"Maybe another day," Jacob replied, holding out his hand.

Y/N placed the keys into his palm, "I'm definitely riding on a motorcycle before I die. I'm trusting you to make that happen," She said.

"I can definitely do that for you," Jacob assured.

They made their way down to the garage and got into one of the cars. Jacob started the car and opened the garage before driving out onto the road.

Y/N settled back into her seat as she looked out the window, "Just for my own curiosity, how long does it usually take for someone to come back from the dead?" Jacob questioned.

"Usually takes about three days. The morphine that Bella had in her system could definitely have an effect on it though," Y/N stated.

"Three days of waiting," Jacob huffed.

"At least she's not awake and screaming like the rest of us were," Y/N said.

"It hurt that badly?" Jacob asked, glancing over at her.

"The worst pain I've ever felt. It was like every nerve being scorched and having your skin peeled from your body. It was misery," She said.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," He said.

"It gave me a lifetime of pain and loneliness like I have never known before. I would have chosen death a thousand times over," Y/N replied.

"Who was it?" Jacob asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Y/N said, looking over at him.

"Who was it that broke your heart?" Jacob clarified.

Y/N hesitated, "Carlisle first and Edward second," She answered.

Jacob scoffed, "Well, with that information, you definitely earned the title of having the worst situation possible," Jacob said.

"I've always been an overachiever," She deadpanned with a smirk.

Jacob smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the diner, "Ready to eat?" He asked.

"I'm absolutely ravenous," She replied.

The pair got out of the car and made their way into the restaurant, they were sat in a booth and given a moment to look over the menu.

Y/N stared at the laminated sheet with wide eyes, finding herself overwhelmed by the options as she slowly opened the menu.

"Wow, this is a lot of stuff," She mumbled.

"Do you want me to just order for you?" Jacob questioned.

"That would be lovely," Y/N replied.

"Do you have any preference on milkshake flavor?" He asked.

"The last meal that I had as a living person was probably boiled cabbage and stale bread. You can pick whatever you want and I'm sure it will be better than anything I've ever eaten," She replied, closing the menu and sliding it to the edge of the table.

"Point taken," He nodded.

The waitress returned to their table with her notepad and pen in hand, "What can I get for you two today?" She questioned.

"For drinks, we'd like one chocolate and one vanilla milkshake. And for food, we'll get two of the bacon cheeseburgers with fries," Jacob listed.

"Perfect, I'll get that going for you," The waitress nodded, collecting the menus and moving off to the kitchen.

"Why did you get two different flavor drinks?" Y/N asked.

"So you can try both and keep whichever one you like best," Jacob shrugged.

"That's very kind of you," She said.

"It's no big deal," He replied.

"It is to me," Y/N stated.

The drinks came out quickly and the food followed shortly after. Jacob put two plastic straws into the milkshakes and slid them across the table to her.

Y/N leaned forward, taking a sip of the vanilla milkshake before moving over to the chocolate and taking another sip.

"What's the verdict?" He questioned.

"I like the lighter one more," She said, tapping a finger against the side of the first glass.

Jacob slid the chocolate milkshake back over to his side of the table, "Good choice. The vanilla one is my personal favorite," He said, taking a sip from the same straw.

"You can have it if you like it more," Y/N said, moving to slide it over to him.

"You're the one who's new to human food. You get to keep the milkshake that you like best," Jacob said, resting his hand over hers and pushing it back over to her side of the table.

They ate and chatted about their lives before reluctantly returning to the Cullen house.

"I had fun tonight. You're pretty cool for an ex-bloodsucker," Jacob said.

"I had fun too and I suppose I should say thank you," Y/N replied.

"It was definitely meant as a compliment," Jacob assured, "And you can feel free to come find me whenever you want to go on another nature walk or do something ridiculously stupid just to cross it off your bucket list," He continued.

"I will definitely take you up on that," Y/N nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow... Sleep well," He said.

"You too," Y/N replied, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

...

Y/N stood in the shower, lathering the shampoo into her hair before stepping under the water. She washed the soap from her scalp, allowing the warm water to run over her skin. Y/N lowered her arms as her heart began to race in her chest, she let out a shaky exhale and leaned into the wall.

Y/N suddenly felt lightheaded and exhausted, breathing heavily as she slid down the wall weakly. Her arms fell in front of her body limply as she leaned into the wall, eyelids fluttering as she struggled to remain conscious.

"Carlisle," She called softly, her voice was barely audible over the sound of the water.

The shower curtain was pulled back suddenly before Carlisle reached in and turned off the water. He stepped away, grabbing her robe before kneeling down next to the bathtub.

Carlisle maneuvered her body around easily, slipping her arms through the sleeves and wrapping the robe around her body. He tied the belt at her waist before slipping his arms underneath her and lifting her into his arms.

Y/N's head rested on his shoulder as she closed her eyes, head pounding as her heart raced in her chest. He carried her into her bedroom before carefully setting her down on her bed.

Carlisle brought over the vitals machine, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around her arm and placing the probe on her finger. Y/N grimaced as the cuff began to inflate, but she was far too exhausted to say anything.

"Your blood pressure is incredibly low," Carlisle stated, reaching over and resting his hand on the side of her neck.

His fingers found her pulse point easily, feeling the rapid pulsation of her heart against his fingertips.

"I don't feel good," She mumbled shakily.

"I'll get you on fluids and we'll see if that helps," Carlisle said.

Y/N closed her eyes, unable to do anything besides breathe as her body began to shiver. Carlisle returned with a bag of fluids and a primed line, hanging it up on the pole beside her bed.

"Are you cold?" He questioned, noticing the way her body trembled.

She nodded silently and Carlisle stepped into her closet, he returned with a long sleeved shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants.

"Not mine," Y/N mumbled.

"Alice thought that you should have something comfortable and warm to wear," Carlisle said, setting the items on the edge of her bed.

He helped her dry off and get dressed before getting her settled in the bed. Carlisle sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, tying the tourniquet around her arm and flexing her wrist as his eyes scanned her skin.

Carlisle cleaned her skin with an alcohol wipe before opening his needle and removing the cap. Y/N turned her head away as he pushed the needle into her vein, he held the cannula in place as he retracted the needle. He connected the tubing to the cannula quickly before laying a clear dressing on top of it.

Carlisle pressed the edges against her skin carefully before reaching up to grab his IV tubing and connecting it to her. Y/N looked over as he stood up, programming the machine and opening the roller clamps.

The fluid slowly began to drip as the infusion started, "You should try and get some rest. I'll be back to check on you in a bit," Carlisle said, she nodded.

Y/N drifted off into a dreamless sleep before Carlisle had even stepped foot into the hallway. She slept for hours, body shivering silently as she struggled to retain her warmth. Carlisle added a few more blankets on top of her, but nothing seemed to help with the icy chill that had come over her.

Carlisle slowly made his way into the living room where the family was sitting. Esme held Renesmee in her arms while Rosalie watched them with a fond smile.

"Jacob, could I borrow you for a moment?" Carlisle asked.

"Sure," He nodded, standing up from his seat and following Carlisle down the hallway.

"I have a bit of an odd request and you can refuse if it makes you uncomfortable," Carlisle said.

"What is it?" Jacob asked.

"Y/N had a bit of a medical episode tonight," Carlisle started.

"Is she okay?" Jacob questioned.

"She's fine, but she's incredibly cold and I can't seem to get her temperature up," Carlisle said.

"I can definitely help with that," Jacob nodded.

"Thank you," Carlisle replied, leading Jacob down the hallway to her bedroom.

He opened the door and stepped inside, allowing Jacob to make his way into the room before closing the door gently.

"Jeez, how many blankets do you have her buried under?" Jacob asked with a smile.

"Five, I believe," Carlisle stated.

Jacob moved around to the other side of the bed, stepping out of his boots before lifting the blankets and laying down beside her.

Jacob shifted closer to her and she turned towards him in her sleep, immediately drawn in by the heat he gave off. Jacob wrapped his arms around her and guided her body into his side.

Y/N let out a soft breath, her head resting on his chest as she soaked up his warmth, "She's freezing," Jacob muttered, rubbing his hand over her back gently.

"I'm not much help in that department, unfortunately," Carlisle said.

"Well, I got it from here," Jacob assured.

"Just be conscious of the IV and call for me if something happens," Carlisle said, Jacob nodded.

Carlisle made his way out of the bedroom, closing the door behind himself carefully. Jacob settled back into the pillows, brushing his hand over her back until he eventually drifted off to sleep beside her.

Jacob awoke when the sky was dark, he turned his head to see Carlisle standing at the bedside. He hung a new bag of fluids on the IV pole before connecting it and pressing a few buttons on the machine to restart the infusion.

Y/N stirred slightly in his arms as Carlisle programmed the pump, eyes fluttering open slowly. Her brows furrowed as she pulled away from him slightly.

"What's going on?" She mumbled.

"You were cold," Jacob replied.

"How are you feeling?" Carlisle questioned.

"I'm fine," Y/N replied, laying back down on her back beside Jacob.

"I can go if you want," Jacob offered.

"No, it's too cold in this place," She huffed, lifting the blankets up higher over her body as her teeth chattered slightly.

"Here," Jacob smiled, reaching out and pulling her closer to his side.

He wrapped his arm around her and she leaned her head back against his shoulder as his hand settled on her arm, "Better?" He questioned, she nodded and closed her eyes. Carlisle smiled softly to himself, quietly exiting the room and closing the door.

"I know you're not here for me, but I still appreciate it," Y/N said softly.

"You're probably one of the best living people in this house right now. Us humans need to stick together," Jacob said.

"Still not human," Y/N mumbled tiredly.

"Whatever you say," Jacob replied, rubbing his hand over her arm gently.

...

Carlisle opened the door to Y/N's bedroom and paused when he realized that the bed was empty. Jacob had stayed with her for a few hours before returning to the living room to be with Renesmee. She had been asleep when he last checked on her and the empty bed made him nervous.

"Y/N," Carlisle called.

"In here," Y/N replied softly.

He stepped over to the bathroom and pushed the door open, finding her sitting on the floor in front of the toilet with her back leaned against the wall. Y/N was incredibly pale with dark bags under her eyes, exhausted and weak as she looked up at him.

"Are you alright?" He questioned.

"I can't stop throwing up," Y/N mumbled.

"How long have you been in here?" Carlisle asked.

"An hour," She replied.

"Why didn't you call for me? I could've given you something to help with the nausea," He said gently.

"Feels like someone shoved a hot branding iron down my throat," She muttered.

"I could get you some water or tea to help," Carlisle offered.

"Just want to sleep," Y/N stated.

"Can you stand?" He questioned, looking down at her.

"No, everything hurts," She grumbled.

Carlisle nodded, kneeling down and sliding his arm underneath her body before lifting her up into his arms. Y/N let out a soft whimper, grimacing in pain and gripping onto him as he picked her up.

Carlisle turned around and set her down on the countertop. He prepared her toothbrush before passing it to her, wetting a cloth under some warm water as she brushed her teeth.

Y/N leaned over and spit into the sink, Carlisle took the toothbrush from her hand and offered her the cloth. Y/N wiped the cloth over her skin, arms falling limply in her lap as she breathed heavily, utterly exhausted from the simple act of wiping her face.

"Are you alright?" Carlisle asked.

"No, I'm not and I wish you'd stop asking me that," She snapped.

Carlisle didn't reply, giving her a moment to rest as he put everything away. He stepped back over to her when her breathing rate had returned to normal.

"Ready?" He asked, she nodded.

Carlisle lifted her into his arms carefully before he carried her into her room and placed her down on her bed. Y/N grimaced as she laid back, closing her eyes as she took a few shaky breaths.

"How bad is the pain?" Carlisle questioned.

"Terrible," She stated, growing irritated with his questions as she struggled to get comfortable.

"I'll get you something for the pain and the nausea," Carlisle said, standing up from the edge of the bed.

"Or you could just snap my neck now and put me out of my misery," Y/N offered.

"That's not an option and you know that," Carlisle replied gently.

"What quality of life do I have, Carlisle? My teeth are falling out, my body aches like I have broken glass flowing through my veins and I can't do simple tasks without feeling completely exhausted. I am miserable and it isn't going to get any better," She stated.

"There are still things we can try, Y/N. You were doing incredibly well a few days ago, we don't have to jump to extremes just yet. Pain medications, sedatives and anti-nausea drugs can drastically improve your comfort level," Carlisle said.

Y/N scoffed, "I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a narcotic haze as my body shuts down," She snapped.

"Dosages can be adjusted. It doesn't have to be that way," Carlisle assured.

"You've done as much as you can for me. It's time to give up," Y/N stated.

"That's not what you really want," He said.

"How would you know what I want? You haven't cared enough to know me for an incredibly long time, Carlisle," She said.

"You're right... I haven't been there for you in the way that you wanted, but I'm here now and I want to help you," Carlisle pressed.

"You can't help me," Y/N stated firmly, "But you can let me go," She continued.

"We can talk about our options tomorrow. You should try and get some rest," Carlisle advised.

Y/N shook her head, looking away as Carlisle made his way out of her bedroom and closed the door.

Edward stood in the hallway, "She wants to die?" He questioned.

"She does," Carlisle replied.

"We can't let that happen," Edward stated.

"I'm going to try and convince her to pursue alternative treatment options, but she doesn't seem optimistic," Carlisle said.

"I'll talk to her," Edward said, Carlisle shook his head.

"Bella could be waking up any moment now, she's going to need you. I can deal with Y/N for the time being," Carlisle assured.

"When Bella wakes up, Y/N is going to need someone with her at all times. The bloodlust could overwhelm Bella and Y/N wouldn't stand a chance," Edward said.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Carlisle replied.

"Agreed," Edward nodded.

[tinyfantasminha]

OC introduction

[Thank you @haryuwu, @stestylius-arts and @ai-kan1 for the templates they look so clean and organized and I love them 😋]

Personality:

At first glance, Vic comes across as reserved and ordinary, maintaining cordial relationships without actively seeking friendships. However, once she grows close to someone, her brighter, more playful side shines through—she’s witty, bantering, and a bit tomboyish. She dislikes feeling restricted and tends to rebel against rules she finds unfair or unreasonable. While she firmly denies being a "mom friend," (she repulses the thought even) her actions often tell a different story. She’s fiercely loyal, quietly looking out for her friends and always stepping in to support them when they’re in need, even if she doesn’t admit it outright.

Though Vic sometimes comes across as naive or a bit of an airhead, it’s often by design—she purposefully plays the fool, keeping others guessing about her true thoughts and intentions. Why does she do this? Well… whatever the reason, there’s more to her than meets the eye.

Backstory:

Vic was once a naive, pure-hearted child, eager to please and willing to follow anyone’s whims. That all changed after a traumatic incident during a school trip to the woods. A classmate told her, “Wait right here and don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Obediently, she stayed put, unnoticed by her teachers or classmates. Hours passed as she waited, terrified and alone, until she was finally found by school staff after her mother reported her missing. This event left a deep scar on Vic, and the phrase “I’ll be right back” still triggers a wave of unease in her. Afterward, her submissive tendencies only worsened. She believed that by doing everything people asked, she’d be liked and accepted, avoiding the risk of being abandoned or badmouthed. Throughout middle school, this behavior made her an easy target for manipulation and psychological abuse. By her final years of high school, something within her snapped. The years of mistreatment awakened a rebellious, sharp-edged side. Vic stopped letting people walk all over her, becoming grumpier, colder, and more distrustful. She built a fortress around her true emotions, frequently lying or feigning indifference to protect herself. Though she hated the version of herself her pain had created, she learned to survive in her own way.

After graduating, Vic celebrated the end of that painful chapter in her life and vowed to reinvent herself. But just three days later, her plans were upended when she was hit by a mysterious carriage.

After the events of the prologue and her enrollment at NRC alongside Grim, Vic was struck by the mortifying realization that she’d have to relive high school all over again. Adding insult to injury, she remembered that, at the time she was hit by the mysterious carriage, she had been on her way to celebrate her graduation with an açaí smoothie—a treat she never got to enjoy. To this day, she can’t help but lament the smoothie that never was.

Notable relationships:

Jack Howl 🐺

At first, Vic was intimidated by Jack, fearing he’d be as condescending and judgmental as her classmates from middle school. However, once she got to know him, his caring and loyal nature quickly won her trust. Because of her magicless status and petite stature, Jack’s protective instincts naturally kick in around her. He often escorts her across campus, which leads to them spending more time together and growing closer.

Vic admires Jack’s honesty and strong sense of justice—qualities she found rare during her school days. His loyalty and protective behavior deeply touch her, even when he tries to hide it behind his tsundere demeanor (which she secretly finds adorable). Around Jack, Vic feels safe in a way she hasn’t before.

As their bond deepens, they begin to pine for each other, turning what should be simple interactions into painfully awkward moments. Jack’s straightforward and genuine nature makes Vic’s carefully constructed mask of aloofness crumble in his presence, leaving her vulnerable and overwhelmed by her emotions. Her feelings for him force her to confront her fears and insecurities, often leaving her shaken.

"If only there was someone like you by my side back then… maybe I wouldn’t have…!”

Leona Kingscholar 🦁

Initially, Vic and Leona barely interacted. He seemed indifferent to her presence and quietly appreciated that she didn’t nag him or try to change his lazy ways. However, her frequent visits to Savanaclaw piqued his curiosity, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was some kind of thrill-seeker. Her seemingly fragile, harmless appearance contrasted sharply with the boldness it took to linger in a dorm full of beastmen, leading him to nickname her “little mouse.”

Vic usually treats Leona with sweetness, but he sees right through her doe-eyed facade. Her true motives remain a mystery to him, and that intrigue makes him determined to unravel her secrets. To that end, Leona enjoys teasing and flustering her, just to watch her carefully constructed mask crack.

Leona is also keenly aware of Vic and Jack’s feelings for each other, which he finds highly entertaining. He takes great pleasure in cockblocking taunting them about it, using his sharp wit to nudge them closer to confronting their emotions. His teasing is particularly merciless with Jack, often warning him with sly remarks like, “You’d better keep a close eye on your prey, or she might just wander into the lion’s den.” What exactly does he mean by that? Who knows…

Ace Trappola ❤️ and Deuce Spade ♠️:

Vic’s first friends at NRC, Ace and Deuce quickly became two of her closest companions. The trio spends much of their time hanging out and bantering, creating a dynamic full of playful teasing. Her provocations often escalate with Ace, leading to occasional spats, though they’re always quick to reconcile.

With Deuce, Vic adopts a softer, almost sisterly demeanor, though she doesn’t hold back from teasing him—just not as intensely as she does with Ace. Around them, Vic maintains her cool, tomboyish exterior but will sometimes show emotional vulnerability when she needs comfort or support. Ace, however, never misses a chance to mercilessly tease her about her crush on Jack, much to her frustration (and embarrassment).

Idia Shroud💀:

Vic and Idia became friends through the Board Game Club, bonding over their shared interests and similarities. During club activities, they often team up to gently? bully and bicker with Azul, much to their mutual amusement. While Vic enjoys their camaraderie, their interactions mostly happen through DMs, as Idia’s shut-in nature makes face-to-face meetings rare—despite her frequent insistence that they hang out more in person.

Idia has developed a crush on her, which makes him even more hesitant to meet up outside of the club. He’s painfully aware (and secretly salty) about her preference for the athletic types in Savanaclaw, which makes his hopes—if he had any—practically nonexistent. For now, he keeps his feelings to himself, hoping to drown them. Vic, ever the supportive friend, often encourages him and occasionally flirts or gets touchy to tease him, delighting in his flustered reactions. Is she aware of his feelings? Who can say...

Azul Ashengrotto 🐙:

Vic initially had a strong dislike for Azul, finding his sweet-talking, calculating nature, and tendency to demand repayment for even the smallest favors uncomfortably reminiscent of her old classmates. She was openly hostile toward him, often meeting his charm with sharp-tongued, vulgar retorts. Yet, Azul remained undeterred.

Over time, as they spent more moments together in the Board Game Club, their constant bickering and competitive banter began to grow on her, almost without her noticing. She realized Azul was more "relaxed" during club activities, which made him easier to talk to. Vic now views him as a sort of rival, someone who challenges her wit and strategies, though neither likes to show vulnerability or weakness around the other.

If asked whether they’re friends, Vic will promptly deny it with a firm “no,” while Azul confidently responds with a smug “yes.” Despite their clashing personalities and opposing morals, they quietly look out for each other in their own way—remembering birthdays, exchanging souvenirs, and occasionally offering subtle gestures of support. Deep down, Vic knows Azul is an important friend, but she’d rather swallow a rock than admit it. Tsuntsun

Jamil Viper 🐍:

Vic harbors a superficial, puppy-like crush on Jamil, idolizing him and finding everything he does impossibly cool or impressive. Jamil, however, doesn’t seem to return her affections—or trust her, for that matter. He usually cuts her off with polite but firm indifference, which only seems to intensify her fascination, much to his exasperation. To Jamil’s dismay, Vic sighs dreamily whenever he’s cold or sharp-tongued with her (masochist much??) but gets utterly confused and flustered when he shows any hint of worry or care for her.

While Jamil would never admit it, he doesn’t entirely dislike her attention. Her admiration strokes his ego, and perhaps—just perhaps—he’s considering how he might use it to his advantage... t this doesn't seem very healthy...

Rook Hunt 🏹:

Like most people, Vic initially felt uneasy around Rook’s overly flamboyant and romantic demeanor. She couldn’t understand his fascination with her or his flowery praise, often responding to his compliments with pragmatic retorts or modest deflections. However, as time passed and she recognized the sincerity behind his words of encouragement, her wariness faded, and she began to trust him more.

Knowing it’s nearly impossible to keep secrets from Rook, Vic sometimes reluctantly vents her frustrations and insecurities to him. In turn, he offers thoughtful advice and unwavering emotional support. He nicknames her “Mademoiselle Fantôme” (ghost) and seems to see right through her composed exterior.

Like Leona, he’s aware there’s more to her than meets the eye and enjoys analyzing her hidden depths. Rook takes particular delight in evoking various reactions from Vic, describing her as a “kitten with hidden claws,” always intrigued by her blend of aloofness and fire.

Trivia:

While Vic appears tomboyish and sisterly with the first years, Jack is the exception. Around him, she’s notably sweeter and more bashful.

The more nervous or flustered she becomes, the higher-pitched (and more pathetic) her voice gets.

Vic used to be close with her older sister, a prosecutor. Her strong sense of justice and argumentative nature were heavily influenced by her sibling.

When heated, Vic becomes highly argumentative, delivering well-constructed, logical points to dismantle her opponent’s stance—a rare display of bold confidence.

Her dream is to become a detective/investigator.

Vic doesn’t get angry often, but when she does, it’s described as a “cold, merciless ire with sharp words that could make a grown man cry” (Ace’s words).

Though she’s a bit of a coward and dislikes confrontation, her quick thinking and improvisation often help her slip out of sticky situations. (Both Leona and Rook take notes on her sharp survival instinct.)

Despite her unassuming appearance, Vic has surprising leg strength and flexibility from self-defense classes she took as a child. She claims she’s rusty and fell out of practice for the most part, but her kicks prove otherwise.

Her birthday (February 4) is the same as Cater’s, so their celebrations are often combined in Heartslabyul. Cater affectionately calls her his “twinsie” and refers to her as “cute lil sis.”

Floyd nicknames her “Axolotl” and teases her relentlessly about her height. He especially enjoys being overly touchy with her in Jack’s presence.

Vic occasionally treats herself to Mostro Lounge visits to gossip with Jade, often about Azul’s defeats in the board game club. Jade uses this intel to tease and blackmail Azul later.

The Light Music Club adores pampering her and repeatedly begs her to join as a singer, but she always flusteredly declines.

Like Ace, Vic can be mischievous and a bit greedy. She shamelessly accepts Kalim’s generous offers of money (though she hopes Jack doesn’t find out...)

Vil intimidates her to no end with his sharp gaze, but she secretly admires him and dreams of having him give her a makeover someday. Rook frequently (and gleefully) tries to push her to approach Vil, much to her horror.

Malleus believes they are closer friends than they actually are, often due to misinterpreting her words and actions. Vic, too kind or maybe scared to correct him, finds herself roped into his gargoyle monologues during their awkward little outings.

[thanatika]

The Bachelor's Pharmacy

I made a list of all of the metabolism-affecting consumables I could find in the Quarantine game files. @humancork was asking to see this, but I'll put it in the tag in case anyone else wants to see.

Stimulants (Increase Mania/Decrease Apathy):

Camphor Stimulant, a rubefacient. Causes irritation, just like everything in this damned place.

Coffee   Coffee is imported from overseas, so I must conserve my supply. Besides, the delivery of goods to the town is delayed, so the price of coffee can be outrageous. Addictive, with each use, the effect becomes weaker.

Adrenaline (Called "Stimpack" in game files) A hormone produced in the adrenal glands as a response to stress. When administered, it activates the body's fight or flight response. In my case, it increases running speed.

Strychnine A poison. Which is the same as medicine. Invigorating in small doses. Addictive. With each use, the effect becomes weaker.

Concentrated strychnine   The word repulsive doesn't even begin to describe its taste, especially in such a dosage, but it clears your mind like nothing else. You can't become addicted to it, even if you want to.

Tobacco It is believed that cigarettes have a calming effect, but in fact nicotine is a stimulant. Addictive. With each use, the effect becomes weaker.

Taurine Taurine is extracted from ox bile—perfectly fitting for a town built on bulls. It stimulates the nervous system and supports energy processes in the body.

Depressants (Increase Apathy/Decrease Mania):

Bromide Increases inhibition in the cerebral cortex. In other words, dulls the brain. Sometimes that's exactly what I need.

Etorphine A powerful analgesic. An overdose can lead to sudden feebleness or even death.

Morphine Relieves any pain, both physical and mental. In return, it asks only for your sharpness of thought. Many people take that deal. Addictive. With each use, the effect becomes weaker.

Refined morphine   Strong, robust. Each time it hits you like the first one. However, it's very rare. Use with caution to avoid overdose.

Valerian extract   Sedative. Sometimes even Bachelor Dankovsky drinks valerian extract, just like his grandmother used to.   [Alt: Sedative. Can't go wrong with valerian.]

Other:

 Dankovsky's special (Called "BachelorBrew" in game files, lol) A remedy I made myself. When administered, it allows the body to postpone any current pain and spread it out over time for approximately [Y] seconds. Unlike morphine, this drug doesn’t inhibit the psyche or cause apathy.

Makeshift tonic pill (Called "Craft_Pill_Apat" in game files) Partially mitigates the negative effects of apathy. Effectiveness unknown.

Makeshift stress relief pill (Called "Craft_Pill_Psycho" in game files) Partially mitigates the negative effects of stress. Effectiveness unknown.

Twyrine (Called "Tvirin" in game files, no description)

Swevery extract Serves as a natural tonic. It would be good to cultivate the local herbs...

White Whip toxin The White Whip an endemic species of the Gorhon Steppes. Contains a poison that, in its pure form, is lethal. There have been known cases of murders involving its use.

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ♡

track two of the short n’sweet series. pairing: criminal!jj x reader — based loosely off the song please please please by sabrina carpenter. enjoy! ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

you knew what you were getting into, getting involved with an ex-convict and all.

it’s not that jj didn’t treat you well. no, he spoiled you in all the ways he could no matter how unconventional that might be. you’re talking bouquets of flowers he’d so clearly stolen from the gas station, pulling guns on guys that hit on you and threatening to ‘blast their freaking eyes out’ when they’d merely asked for your number, producing a wad of random cash when the nail lady asked if he wanted to pay contactless for your new set of nails. you figured he was trying his best, romantic in a way he knew how to be.

what you absolutely couldn’t take however, way the random disappearing acts. it was jj maybank you’re talking about here — you knew he’d be reckless and fly off the handle sometimes and you were pretty well equipped for that, infact that dangerous attitude was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place oddly enough. but every sunday, like clockwork the blonde would come up with some half ass excuse and disappear through the entire night, only to arrive home in the morning with pockets stuffed with cash. it made you anxious. whatever he was doing, whatever he was lying to you about — you wanted it to stop. don’t make me the girl who’s man goes back to jail and i still stick around, because i will— but it’s embarrassing— you beg to no one in your diary. you try and muster up the courage to ask jj about his doings, but each time you even toe in that direction he gets defensive, shaking his head with a little irritated scowl.

“look, i look after you right? tha’s all that matters mama. papa j’s got it figured out, you don’t need t’worry all the damn time.”

you wanted to trust that things would be fine, you really did.

he’d had a long week, and yet still when sunday rolled around you uneasily watched your boyfriend zipping up his hoodie ready to depart to wherever the hell it was he’d go to make all that money. you had a bad feeling, anxiety thrumming in the base of your stomach that something was going to happen tonight. you couldn’t let him go.

“jayj i jus— i just want you to— c’mon jay i have a fun idea, let’s just… let’s just stay inside!” you whine, verging on tears as you paw at him. his quick patience be damned, you were an emotional wreck and you needed him to listen.

“i gotta. you don’t get it.” he huffs, but even he doesn’t sound convinced, eyes lingering on you as you subtly pull your tank top down to let more of your titties spill out. that whiny tone in your voice usually meant one thing, and that one thing the two of you had been too busy to do that week.

“if y’need money i can give you some. whatever you need.” you wanted to yell at yourself to stand up, but trying everything was definitely on the cards. he scoffs, the provider in him repulsed by the idea and he gently grips your jaw between his thumb and pointer finger for a moment.

“what kinda fuck ass boyfriend would i be then, huh?” he brushes it off, but your pout remains.

“i need you. you can’t go. i need you.” it comes out all as one breath, and now— now you have his attention.

“that right sweetie?” he drawls, tongue in his cheek as he stops his movement towards the door to face you down, eyebrow twitching up in anticipation. keeping your desperate eyes on his, you stride back infront of him and all but fall to your knees, shaky hands going for his belt.

“please, please-please— as long as you need it. want it all night” you plead, and now he’s smiling — all big and malicious like a wolf as he thinks about using your throat, all thoughts of criminal activities becoming a memory.

he scrubs a hand down his face in deliberation before getting to work on his belt.

“ah alright.” he shrugs with a mischievous little chuckle. “for you, pretty thing? anything.”

the money could wait.

[shineesbackbitches]

Lip Tint Stains and Hair Ties

౨ৎ summary: “He locked his gaze in front of him, unable to gather the wits to gauge your reaction. His round glasses had slipped further down his nose than he preferred them, but he made no effort to correct their resting place. Wonwoo’s vision had always been complete garbage, and the time he spent focused on video games had not served his eyesight for the better. His glasses were cute though, and you’d told him as much the first time he wore them around you. Overall, he felt neutral about his frames, but being able to clearly see the board at the front of the classroom, the leaves on trees, and the smaller details of your face he hadn’t noticed without them were enough to convince him to wear them consistently. (“Since when did you have like, individual eyelashes?” “You mean like, how everyone does?” “… Huh.” “You knew people have individual lashes. Wonwoo, you knew people have individual lashes, right?”)”

౨ৎ pairing: Wonwoo x Reader

౨ৎ genre: childhood friends to lovers, school, college, slow burn, fluff, one shot, peachesndreams

౨ৎ word count: 11.5k

౨ৎ warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, insecurities, high school sports (repulsive I know), orientation week bullshit, kissing, pretty tame making out, one gross incel, reader really grows into her menace (good for her), the tension between these two is enough to make Mingyu cry, fluffy hair Wonwoo our collective beloved, two brief mentions of choking but not in the sexy kinda way, Soonyoung and Jihoon bickering

౨ৎ author note: a little love letter for my fellow Carats <3 There, there Besties

From the time you began attending school, you always walked back home together— you and Wonwoo. Coincidentally, when clubs became a mandatory thing (something about the school administration promoting ‘holistic, well-rounded, there’s-more-to-life-than-grades-but-we’ll-pull-you-out-of-participating-in-your-club-activities-if-you-fall-below-a-B-minus-in-a-class’ students), you ended up in clubs that finished at the same time. You even ended up attending the same university, and would shuffle back to your dorms from late night library camp outs.

Wonwoo had always been a quiet kid, preferring to listen rather than contribute to conversations. He had no trouble entertaining himself either. You’d learned that it wasn’t that he lacked a personality— the guy was fucking hilarious— it just didn’t come out unless he was comfortable. He was just introverted and making friends wasn’t as easy for him as it was for other kids.

But were you really one to talk?

If you were in a self-reflective mood, you’d cop to being an eighth of a teaspoon more extroverted than Wonwoo. Large crowds were a major turn off, as were loud places. You needed to mentally prepare for a hang out with more than two other people. Going home immediately after school to co-exist in a room with Wonwoo was more appealing than joining a group of classmates to venture into the busiest shops your hometown had to offer for trendy Insta pics. It was safe to say you were as much of an introvert as he was— plus, the two of you lived nearby and there were no other kids close to your age in the neighborhood. It was only natural that you would gravitate toward each other. So you grew familiar with the little boy with rounded cheeks, rumpled dark fringe, and chubby yet abnormally nimble hands (probably from the hours he spent immersed in gaming).

The difference between the two of you was that while Wonwoo wholeheartedly embraced his withdrawn nature, kept his tight-knit circle of friends, and basked in the comfort of frequent solitude, you made the effort to become more extroverted. What if people thought you were standoffish if you repeatedly declined their invites to outings? Would your classmates not like you anymore? Would they distance themselves from you?

The fear convinced you to agree to more spontaneous ventures far outside your comfort zone. You admittedly had fun with your friends, but it didn’t diminish the dread curling in the pit of your stomach leading up to the outing or the absolutely wiped daze in your eyes when you returned. The brutal cycle of social gathering followed by exhaustion repeated at a pace that completely obliterated any opportunity of recharging from the realm of possibilities.

You lasted a little over two months before retreating back to the familiar routine of walking home with Wonwoo to decompress after the long school day. The frequency of your adventures out with your friends reduced to a few a month, which was way more manageable for your limited social battery. Wonwoo hadn’t brought up the short-lived attempt, instead resuming the pattern of meeting up at the side entrance where towering trees cast shadows that spilled out across the concrete, the occasional splatter of sunlight poking through the branches. The conversation always flowed naturally with him, from goofy things your classmates did to the books you were reading lately (“You already bought it? Nice! Can I read it after you?” “Yeah, just don’t tell Jun I gave it to you. He already asked to borrow it, but you read faster than him.” “You’re my most favorite person in the whole world, Wonwoo.” “I know.”)

It was here that you determined that you and Wonwoo were each other’s safe space.

Not long after, Wonwoo’s baby fat disappeared from his face nearly overnight, replaced by a sharp jawline and a thin, long nose that accentuated the intensity of his eyes. He sprouted up at an alarming rate in comparison to his peers and, despite his willowy bone structure, he began to unintentionally intimidate others. It could be attributed to your shy disposition, but if you hadn’t already known Wonwoo before, you didn’t think you would have had the courage to approach him either. A laughable notion, really, considering how timid and gentle-hearted he was. Still, while he didn’t comment on his newly-perceived scariness, you knew he wasn’t exactly fond of his reputation.

You had the kind of friendship where you did small favors for each other all the time, so you decided to work your magic.

If your classmates saw a little bit of his less guarded side, maybe it would help him seem more approachable. After all, fear comes from the unknown, and Wonwoo didn’t readily disclose much about himself. No matter; you figured things could only go up from here.

“Do you want to eat lunch together tomorrow?” You glanced to your side where he was walking at a comfortable pace, carefully observing for slight changes in his expression or body language that indicated he wasn’t feeling up to it.

“I need to finish my Korean homework.” The subject wasn’t difficult for either of you, but Wonwoo tended to leave it until the class period before it was due. While you admired the confidence, you couldn’t stand the apprehension repeatedly ringing the doorbell of your subconscious when you had an incomplete assignment.

“We can work on it together.” You tried again, this time earning Wonwoo’s mildly suspicious gaze. Despite recently getting a hair cut, Wonwoo’s fringe grew at a quick pace and was already a few inches shy of completely concealing his forehead. Due to his grown out fringe, you couldn’t see his eyebrows, but you knew there was a furrow to them that wondered what you were up to.

“I guess we can do it tonight then.” He relented despite knowing you’d completed the assignment in class today. Wonwoo studied your face for a few beats, not understanding your unusual demand to spend the lunch period together. Were you overwhelmed by your rowdier friends? Was someone being an ass to you? Sure, you were pretty bashful when given attention, but you weren’t the type to let someone walk all over you. If it was too much, you’d tell someone before it escalated. Wonwoo decided to drop the matter and wait until tomorrow’s lunch period to press further.

You sat on the floor of his living room that evening, Wonwoo’s gangly legs folded crisscross on a plush floor pillow while you laid on your stomach just out of arm’s reach. He used a textbook as a flat surface to write on and you pretended to double, triple, and quadruple check that your answers were, in fact, correct for a subject you had a perfect grade in. In reality, you were performing mental gymnastics to solve Wonwoo’s predicament. You doubted eating lunch together would really improve his reputation significantly, especially since you were far from being the poster child for outgoing. Inviting him to join your friends was out of the question—they were too much even for you sometimes and you would never subject him to that. Maybe there was something he could at least enjoy doing that would earn him some positive PR.

“What?” He demanded, lips pursed slightly as he caught your attention on him and not the homework spread out on the floor before you. You just smiled in response, a cheeky little grin that Wonwoo could not for the life of him discern meaning from. All he knew was that you were definitely plotting and that he’d just have to accept that he was going to be along for the ride.

“You should check number four again.” Wonwoo advised.

“It’s right.” You responded blithely, not bothering to glance back at the worksheet.

“You sure about that decimal placement?” He prodded further, pressing his lips together in a thin line to stamp out the smile that threatened to break out.

“Uh-huh,” You insisted, just as unshakable as always. You batted your eyes a few times before grinning a little toothier than usual. “Are you done yet? You swore you’d play New Leaf with me.”

The impatient tilt of your head and the thrum of your fingers on your folded up arms was entertaining. Wonwoo smirked before turning his attention back to his already completed assignment. “Did I?”

“I’m gonna go play with your brother.” You pushed yourself up to your knees, already bouncing up to stretch out your ankles. “Bohyuk! Wanna pl—“

Just as quick as you’d called for his brother, Wonwoo’s hands flung out, palms up in surrender and nose scrunched up in distaste. “I was kidding! Don’t invite that.”

Lunch the following day was peaceful— uneventful even— as you spread out the contents of your lunchbox as fair game and Wonwoo followed suit. You peeked up at him while he helped himself to the meat in your container, fidgeting with the strap that held your lunchbox closed and twirling it around your pointer fingers. Just before you could open your mouth to begin the conversation, Wonwoo beat you to it.

“How are your friends?” He questioned, expression trained neutral, seemingly in the interest of making small talk. Wonwoo fishing for information was about as subtle as a brick wall, but you seemed to perk up at the topic. Unknowingly, he’d made this much easier for you to bring up. The lanky fool had played right into your hands.

“Great!” You chirped, eyes bright as you leaned across the table towards him. “One of them asked about you actually! Wants to know if you’d play basketball with him.”

This is so not where Wonwoo thought this conversation was going. Still, he decided to entertain the idea since you seemed excited about it.

“Which friend?” He asked tentatively, utensils resting on his lunch box. He fought the urge to scrunch his nose up in distaste, lest he clue you in that he was planning on declining.

You blinked a few times, buying yourself a couple seconds to formulate your answer so it wouldn’t result in an immediate refusal. “Um, you know the tall, goofy one who choked when he tried to drink milk through his nose becau—“

“Mingyu plays basketball?” Wow, Mingyu had really made a name for himself and hey! That wasn’t an outright no! Sure, he was a bit of a dumbass at times, but he was a good friend and fun to be around. In small doses. Spaced out. Super spaced out.

He’d love Wonwoo!

And Wonwoo would… probably be okay.

“Yeah! He really wants another person to play with and you’re pretty good.” You were laying it on thick with the compliments, fanning the flame of his ego to convince him that this commitment would result in absolutely no regrets. Your hands balled into tight fists as you stared at Wonwoo hopefully, the reflection of the sunlight gleaming in your eyes.

His mouth pursed in contemplation and a thick silence blanketed the air in the room. Then, he retrieved his abandoned chopsticks from their place balanced on the edge of his lunch box and breathed out, “Alright” before digging back into your lunch.

With a satisfied nod, you scooped up your own set of chopsticks and immediately delved into the spinach salad Wonwoo packed. You hummed appreciatively, the corners of your lips tilting up in a satisfied smile.

In the following weeks, Wonwoo joined Mingyu a few times a week on the basketball court. Just as you suspected, learning that the tall, reserved, and intimidating looking Wonwoo enjoyed basketball was enough for your classmates to drop the narrative that he was unapproachable. That said— his social circle didn’t expand much, but he was quite compatible with Mingyu. The slight tension in his shoulders relaxed and the tightness of his jaw released once he wasn’t overly conscious of how other people perceived his choice to keep to himself.

Another unexpected outcome of this development was that when club activities became mandatory, Wonwoo didn’t have to agonize over what club to choose. He and Mingyu signed up for basketball together without much thought.

Meanwhile, you joined the volleyball club. In all honesty, Wonwoo hadn’t seen it coming. Absolutely zero shots fired about your athletic abilities, but he hadn’t seen you play. Like, ever. His loss apparently, because the team captain was over the moon about the talent you brought to the team.

“When did you start playing volleyball?” He inquired on your journey home. There was an oddly shaped jumble of unease that fought for space in his chest against his ribcage at the realization that there was something about you he didn’t know. He was an observant person. How could he not know that he had been friends with an ace volleyball player for this long? It was a major blow to his pride.

“I never really played,” You began your explanation with a light shrug of your shoulders. “Like, I helped a friend practice a ton and learned something I guess.” You reasoned uncertainly, a contemplative tilt of your head as you didn’t quite comprehend this skill you possessed out of left field.

Oh, okay. So he wasn’t inattentive. You were just a fucking prodigy. Good to know.

“Let me know when you have a match.” Your eyes darted to his at the unexpected request and Wonwoo curled his hands into the long sleeves of his jacket before continuing. “I want to see you play.”

He locked his gaze in front of him, unable to gather the wits to gauge your reaction. His round glasses had slipped further down his nose than he preferred them, but he made no effort to correct their resting place. Wonwoo’s vision had always been complete garbage, and the time he spent focused on video games had not served his eyesight for the better. His glasses were cute though, and you’d told him as much the first time he wore them around you. Overall, he felt neutral about his frames, but being able to clearly see the board at the front of the classroom, the leaves on trees, and the smaller details of your face he hadn’t noticed without them were enough to convince him to wear them consistently. (“Since when did you have like, individual eyelashes?” “You mean like, how everyone does?” “… Huh.” “You knew people have individual lashes. Wonwoo, you knew people have individual lashes, right?”)

“Okay.” You agreed easily, pressing your lips together lightly to stamp out the smile threatening to curl the corners of your mouth.

The attention awarded to you for joining club volleyball came from not just your own class, but others too. If you were aware of any of it, Wonwoo noted no indication of it— as far as he could tell, you loved the purely recreational sport and that was that. He didn’t doubt that you were a wonderful player, but a lot of the attention had been created by your team captain who missed no opportunity to boast about his team in general. According to other classmates, you more than lived up to the hype and Wonwoo wanted to see this unexplored side of you and support it.

It quickly became evident that other people were interested in seeing unexplored sides of you as well.

In a completely unsubtle way that only Mingyu could manage, he asked Wonwoo during basketball practice if you were talking to anyone.

“How would I know?” Wonwoo scrunched his nose in bewilderment. “She’s in volleyball now, not here.” He lunged for the basketball in Mingyu’s possession, fingertips just grazing the bumpy texture before Mingyu pivoted out of reach. While Wonwoo was one of the tallest at your school, Mingyu had hit a major growth spurt early on as well and stood a couple inches above him. Where Wonwoo was more lithe in frame, Mingyu was slightly broader. It was an interesting dynamic for basketball— Wonwoo’s speed and coordination against Mingyu’s strength and stamina— but it made the game entertaining.

An impatient groan ripped out of Mingyu, his head tossed back in irritation. “No, you—“ He sucked in a grounding breath, gathering his remaining shreds of sanity. In this moment, Wonwoo nabbed the ball from Mingyu, tauntingly bouncing it close enough to lure him to make a grab for it. “I mean like, does she like anyone? And I mean like like.” He quickly added on the clarification, unwilling to sit through Wonwoo’s journey of comprehension.

Wonwoo ceased dribbling, straightening up. He lifted a hand to dab at the sweat pooling around his temple and slicking his hair to his forehead to process the question. “How come?” He inspected Mingyu, a defensive edge narrowing his eyes and hardening his gaze. It was different from the steely quality he possessed while playing— while that one was impartial, this one was more personal and unnerving.

“A guy— well, a couple guys wanted to know.” Mingyu shrugged off the imposing weight of his stare, carefully noting Wonwoo’s reactions in turn. Wonwoo could tell by the twitch of his mouth and the rigidness of his spine that Mingyu wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. Smart.

“She’s not interested.” End of conversation. Wonwoo resumed dribbling, faking the intent to try and weave past Mingyu’s arm that belatedly stretched out to block him, only to take the shot from right there over Mingyu’s head.

A clean shot.

“Man!” Mingyu whined, shaking his head in a way that spoke of betrayal and heartbreak. “Cold blooded.”

At least— Wonwoo thought you weren’t interested.

“You go on ahead,” You waved him forward, the strap of your school bag slipping off your shoulder and into the crook of your elbow. “I have a quick thing to do.”

Wonwoo turned back to face you, fists squeezed deep in his jacket pockets where his hand warmers were nestled. You hadn’t made plans with your friends— you would have left from school with them if you had. Were you meeting someone?

“I’ll come with.” Your eyes shifted nervously to the side and your teeth dug into your bottom lip. The tip of your nose was bitten red from the wind and your entire form quivered from the sting of the cold.

“It’s okay, I’ll be quick.” You tried again, gesturing over your shoulder toward the way you were headed. Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed at your blatant attempts at evasion. It was fine if you were going to see someone, he just would rather you be upfront about it instead of hiding it from him. You didn’t keep each other in the dark and you certainly didn’t avoid each other either.

“Then let’s be quick.” Wonwoo insisted, already striding in the direction of your detour. You begrudgingly relented, huffing irritably and shuffling quickly to pass him and lead the way.

Wonwoo blinked at you, really wondering if his vision was actually bad enough to flat out hallucinate. He anxiously glanced around at the (blessedly) mostly empty store and back to your form seated on the tile floor in the aisle. Like, not even crouched to look at something stocked at the lower level— no, ass fully sat on the linoleum.

“What are you doing?” He breathed out, weight shifting back and forth between his feet nervously. You scrunched your long sock as far down toward your ankle as it would go, a handful of display products balanced in your hand in addition to a dozen q-tips. Wonwoo shuffled closer to you in an attempt to conceal your at best questionable behavior from the sole employee occupied with her phone at the checkout counter and the few wandering customers. From above, he observed you pop the lid of a tester, carefully collect some product with the q-tip, and hunch over to swipe it just above your ankle bone.

“Hey,” He hissed then, jerkily nudging you with his knee as a demand for your attention and answer.

“It’ll leave a stain on my wrist and I’ll get caught.” You explained, unwilling to be more cooperative with the guy who refused to let you make this trip solo. You tried to get him to go home, and now he had to live with his conces quencing. Neither of the two colors you tried so far stirred anything in your heart. You discarded the q-tip in the waste bin stationed near you and repeated your process.

“It’ll leave a stain when you wear it and you’ll get caught.” Wonwoo reasoned, a desperate clip to his tone.

“Not if I find one that’s close to my lip color.” You denied reality. Wonwoo paused for a brief moment to consider whether or not you heard yourself. There was nothing really wrong with shopping for a tinted lip balm (even though he would prefer you to do it standing— you know, be socially acceptable and all that), but your school didn’t allow students to wear makeup. When were you even going to use this? You’d never even expressed interest in makeup until today. Once again, nothing criminal, but completely out of the blue.

“Why do you want that?” Wonwoo prodded in an effort to understand the mental gymnastics of it all. If he was being honest, he was still stuck on you seated on the floor.

“‘Cause if it’s close to my lip color, I might not be—“

“No,” He interrupted, pressing his fingers slightly below a brow to ease the beginnings of a pulsing headache away. He was abruptly empathetic to Mingyu for some inexplicable reason. “Like, why do you want it in general?”

“I don’t,” You began, attention fixed on the array of products gathered before you. Wonwoo still hovered behind you, waiting for the remainder of your reason. “I don’t like how I look after volleyball.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Because literally who did you know that looked good after club sports? Disheveled and out of breath was kind of the standard across the board. Also, he saw you right after clubs finished to walk home together everyday. You looked fine. Sure, not quite as put together as you were during classes, but your mussed hair and flushed cheeks were kind of charming— lively and youthful, even. The only people who even saw you were your teammates and him, so—

And Mingyu’s conversation from the basketball court snapped the missing puzzle pieces into place. Multiple guys were interested in you and were sneaking in to watch you practice. They were going as far to ask around about you, to the extent that they’d approached Mingyu to really approach him and dig for information about you. There was no way your social butterfly of a team captain hadn’t clocked it and immediately leaped at the opportunity to fill you in.

Did you like, like one of them?

“Trying to impress someone?” Wonwoo prodded, not quite successful in keeping the judgement at bay. His teeth grit together, trying to maintain a neutral expression despite you facing away from him. All at once, he wished that he could see your expression while simultaneously feeling relieved that he couldn’t.

“No, I just don’t like people staring at me when I look like that.” You fiddled with the lid of the lip balm, snapping it in and out of the closure groove.

So you were aware of the attention— too aware of it, in fact.

For someone so uncomfortable with other peoples’ gazes, you sure weren’t doing you— or him for that matter— any favors by parking yourself on the floor of a beloved cosmetic store in the early evening. But now was not the time to vocalize that thought when he had just scraped an insecurity out of you with about as much tenderness as he would have used trying to knock out the last bit of peanut butter from the bottom of the jar. So yeah, he was going to keep that one in the drafts for now.

There also wasn’t really any way for him to solve your problem. When it came down to it, insecurities were a battle fought with yourself. He doubted that anything he said or did would really resolve your feelings about yourself. That being said, he wasn’t going to withhold his thoughts or actions that might encourage the feelings to fade. He was also more than willing to hold the door open for them to leave and slam it shut on their way out.

Fuck the dumbasses who kept sneaking in to watch you practice and ignoring the fact that they were making you uncomfortable. And a little bit fuck your team captain too for allowing it to happen and even somewhat encouraging the behavior.

Wonwoo squatted down, hooking his large hands under your elbows, and scooped you into a standing position despite your bewildered fumbling. Once you were hauled up to your full height and turned around to face him, he abandoned his purchase on your elbows in favor of sandwiching your cheeks between his warm palms. Or maybe it was your cheeks that were warm? Either way, you were focused on him, maintaining eye contact for the first time since you’d left school that day. Wonwoo lightly shook your head, your cheeks squishing and eyes scrunching closed under his ambush. Once he was satisfied with his work, he stopped, waiting until your eyes blinked away the disorientation and opened to settle on him again.

“You’re pretty.”

It was quick, definitive, and without room for discussion. Before you could even fully process the previous five seconds, Wonwoo cut off any protests, hiking up his long sleeve on one arm to reveal a forearm splotched with a particularly nasty navy colored bruise.

“Ah, shit.” He tugged his sleeve back down over his knuckles, then switched to his other unblemished forearm. Both him and Mingyu were pretty abrasive basketball players and, with their combined lankiness and Mingyu’s net negative coordination due to his lack of spatial awareness, elbows and hands were destined to smack into the wrong places.

“Here.” Wonwoo extended his arm out to you. “They don’t check guys for makeup because they’re sexist.”

You stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. After a brief nod of encouragement, you quickly resumed your work. Your hand cradled his forearm, holding it steady as you brushed on ascending lines of lip product, tinting his skin various shades of pink. His skin was hot under your touch and felt fuzzier than the cotton swab. Eventually, after waffling between two shades that were essentially the same but actually just slightly different, you landed on your choice.

Wonwoo went to school the following day with an impressive gallery of stains streaked up his arm underneath his jacket, but only the two of you knew that.

You were caught wearing the tinted lip balm before the end of first period, your homeroom teacher demanding you scrub it off with a tissue. And as you inspected your appearance in the bathroom mirror, lips bare, there was an absence of inadequacy burrowing in your chest, instead replaced by a peaceful indifference. When you returned to class, the self-conscious slouch anchoring your arms to your sides had dissolved, but only the two of you noticed that.

Your team captain insisted that practices from now on be closed off to visitors, slamming the doors to the gym shut with no consideration for the students trying to sit in. He reasoned that the other students were a distraction and that if they were that interested in volleyball, then tryouts were scheduled for the third week of the next semester.

Wonwoo had been the one to make this request, but only he and your captain knew that.

Old habits either die hard or they don’t die at all, because even in university, your tradition of walking home together persisted. Freshman orientation was essentially hazing for introverts, and your silly orientation leaders decided to host a dinner for the incoming class— a thinly-veiled excuse to get fucking hammered beyond coherent speech. Plus, the schadenfreude of watching a group of kids experience their first and absolute worst time consuming alcohol was too good for them to pass up.

A little over an hour into the mandatory event, you were so beyond over the whole thing. You’d eaten your fill and stopped politely laughing at the upperclassmen who thought they were just so charming at least thirty minutes ago. Drinking was, as you expected, over-encouraged and heavily pressured. At one of the mentors’ insistence, you knocked a shot or two back and sent him stumbling back to the end of the table furthest away from you. It wasn’t your first time consuming alcohol, and you had no intention of exceeding your limit around a bunch of strangers. As far as you were concerned, they could suck it.

Wonwoo sat across from you, usually sharp eyes glazed over at an autographed picture on the wall of someone famous posing with the owner of the restaurant, jolly grins and peace signs thrown up. You shifted your weight, shuffling around in your seat to generate just enough movement in Wonwoo’s field of vision to snap his brain back from outer space. His blurred eyes honed in on you— he hadn’t participated in drinking with the upperclassmen either, also disinterested in drinking in the unfamiliar environment, yet cursed to exist in the moment all the same.

Slowly, intentionally, you blinked twice.

Want to ditch?

Wonwoo tilted his head to one side in what could have easily been a stretch of his neck.

Fuckin’ yeah, I do.

You pursed your lips, eyes flickering once to the door and back to him.

Sensational. At the same time.

Less then two seconds later, Wonwoo raised to his full hight while you swung your legs to the aisle created by the two long tables. He half-heartedly nodded to a few of the people around him that noticed he had stood, and you successfully slipped into an opening. Now that you were on your feet, the alcohol diffused to the rest of your limbs and head quicker than you anticipated— nothing concerning, you were just a little more buzzed than you planned to be. What a fantastic indicator that it was time to pack it up. With a brief flash of a smile and farewell to the kind-enough girl next to you, you made your swift exit to where Wonwoo waited for you at the end of the aisle.

The most genuine smile you had seen from him all evening quirked the corner of his lips up, and the dim, yellow lighting in the restaurant cast a warm glow in his dark eyes. He’d left his hair more rumpled than usual today, the gentle waves softened his appearance a bit, but still accentuated the crisp angles of his cheeks, jaw, and eyes. Gone were the last bits of gangly, awkward teenage proportions, instead developing into striking features of a charming young man. Since senior year of high school, Wonwoo had only sprung further upward, although unlike his middle school growth spurt, he had actually broadened considerably this time. The thing was— Wonwoo was kind of a walking dichotomy. He preferred oversized clothing that concealed the lines of his frame— it completely fooled everyone into thinking he was pretty lanky, but you knew that to be completely false. His form was large and imposing, both in height and broadness, but the changes in his build were only obvious when you stood this close to him. He chose to wear an oversized grey sweatshirt this evening that you’d seen many times before. The sleeves were stretched out from his tendency to tug them over his hands.

You trailed behind him as he blazed the path to the door. Wonwoo pushed the door open, a rush of biting night air dropping your internal temperature substantially. He stepped outside, holding the door open for you to pass through. Just as you moved to cross the threshold, the girl that sat next to you called out, “Get home safely!” You turned to acknowledge her, and your coordination must have been more influenced than you had initially realized, because your foot caught on the ledge protruding from the doorframe. You gasped and braced for unforgiving concrete and a banger of a concussion during syllabus week.

Wonwoo lunged— legitimately lunged— to secure your shoulders in his arms. The back of your head thudded against his chest and your back flattened against his torso. Your fingers latched onto Wonwoo’s sturdy arms suspending you just above the concrete and you huffed in deep breaths to regain your bearings. Holy shit.

“You okay?” Wonwoo’s round glasses had shifted down in the scuffle, balanced precariously at the tip of his nose.

Still disoriented and searching for your center of gravity, you breathed out, “Yeah, yeah— I’m okay.”

Gingerly, Wonwoo straightened into an upright position, bringing you with him. To your credit, you only fumbled slightly when searching for purchase with the soles of your shoes.

“Go a little too hard a little too fast?” He was joking, poking lighthearted fun at the circumstances of the entirely avoidable situation. His hesitant grin was partially contained by residual concern for your physical wellbeing— sure, he’d saved you from a cold greeting courtesy of the concrete, but did you twist your ankle on the ledge?

“Should’ve gone faster, harder.” You quipped, giggling at the absurdity of the last three hours. Wonwoo squatted down beside you, carefully taking your hand nearest to him and guiding it to rest on his shoulder for stability in the event that you toppled over for a second time that night. Despite the chill of the air seeping through your clothing, an unfamiliar heat sweltered in your bones. You wondered if Wonwoo could feel it pulsing at your fingertips where they pressed into the well-worn material of his sweatshirt, but his attention was preoccupied with your ankle. The bottom of your pant leg was rolled up a few times, and Wonwoo’s long, slender fingers prodded at the exposed skin with a tenderness that absorbed the strength in your knees— you’d have fully buckled onto his broad shoulder had you been fueled by anything other than spite to remain standing.

“How does this feel?” He peered up at you, the question visible in his dark eyes, all the while smoothing languid circles into your ankle with his thumb the same way he toggled on his game controller. The weight of his gaze seemed foreign, not quite suffocating, but somewhat sultry. It was an oddly sensual moment, and you didn’t know what to make of that. Probably the alcohol doing its rose-tinted thing.

“It feels good.” You answered more truthfully than he would ever know. But the street outside a restaurant overflowing with your peers was not the place to unpack that. He unrolled your pant leg, tugging it back into place before standing again and insisting that you two get going and escape the cold. You weren’t cold, and you could make out the slight glow of sweat on Wonwoo’s skin, but you chalked it up to the exertion of his impressive dive mere minutes ago.

In all of the years you spent with Wonwoo, you could count the number of times he’d caught you off guard on one hand. He was a man of habit and predictability— it was familiar and cozy, and you appreciated the reliability of him. He hadn’t changed, still the same in his careful, intentional movements, but he somehow knocked you completely off-kilter that night on the sidewalk.

Metaphorically speaking, in this instance.

You, on the other hand, were a bit of a wild card in Wonwoo’s eyes. He knew you well— like he knew the layout of his house well enough to slink to the kitchen in the middle of the night to get a glass of water without flipping any lights on. But every so often, there would be something that wasn’t present before. He would smack into it, take a moment to process the new entity, maybe feel around and familiarize himself with it, and then carry on as usual. To date, the discovery that you were an excellent volleyball player remained the most prominent surprise in his memory.

Nearly two months into your freshman year of college, you blew that one out of the water.

Wonwoo approached you from behind while you were perched at one of the large desktops in the library. He could tell you had a document open— even with his shit vision, there was no mistaking that layout and that obnoxious shade of blue that triggered every students’ fight or flight instinct. But you were missing the anguish of someone writing a paper, no tense hunch to your shoulders or irritated furrow of your brow. Instead, you seemed at ease, reclining easily into the back of the chair, expression focused but neutral. Your movements were unhurried as you navigated your screen with the pitiful library mouse held together by oddly crinkled scotch tape.

What the hell were you working on?

“Hey,” He murmured in greeting, conscious of the people working around you. But then he got a glimpse of your computer screen, and in contrast to your unbothered form, Wonwoo became the embodiment of immediate, deep, bottom-of-the-soul resentment. Pulled up proudly on display were screenshots of some of the most heinous, crude, and honest to god incriminating text messages he’d ever read. His jaw clenched, teeth gritting together painfully at the unimaginably inappropriate names and descriptions littered throughout the one-sided chat. Wonwoo’s eyes pierced the name of the sender exhibited at the top of the screen like he could somehow impale them through the bubble of their initial. He didn’t know them, but he was about to. At the beginning of the thread was a single message from you, a polite and firm decline of an invitation to “hang at his place.” The animosity simmered in the pit of his stomach, boiling up his chest and scalding his throat and tongue as he snarled, “What the fuck?!”

You twisted around in your chair, taking in Wonwoo’s rare hostility and the attention it earned you from other people in the library. His low timbre was always soothing to listen to, but the abrupt change from still waters to rough husk was a commanding force.

“Hi,” You beamed up at him, eyes practically twinkling, apparently unaffected by the images on your screen.

“Who the hell is this loser?” He bit, cheekbones more angled than typical as he hollowed his cheeks. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip, a futile attempt at keeping the malice at bay. Wonwoo was many things, but above ripping this guy a new asshole? Certainly not.

“Oh,” You swiveled to glance back at the screen, sure enough, the incel vomit remained on the monitor where you left it. With practiced ease, you quickly resized the final screenshot in the series, enlarging it to a near comical degree. “Just a silly goose.”

Wonwoo stood stewing in silence as you clicked file and selected print with a too-cheerful click of the barely-holding-on mouse. He had maybe just short of a million questions firing rapidly internally. How did you even meet this guy? Did you have classes with him? Where did he live? Was he deathly allergic to anything? No, not for any particular reason, just curious. Does he walk home alone at night? How long had he been bothering you?

The only question he managed to voice was, “Why are you making these, like, gigantic?”

That was when he noticed that the sparkle in your eyes this entire time had been mischief. The grin you flashed was significantly wider than your natural smile, and possessed a rascality he hadn’t seen you wear before. It looked sickly saccharine and promised chaos. You looked ferocious. It looked good on you.

“How else is his grandmother gonna read it?”

Wonwoo’s heart swelled with pride. It pumped into the organ until it reached its maximum capacity and expanded until his chest ached in elation. Of course you were going to rock this guy’s shit. And in front of his family no less. Wonwoo physically could not contain the cackles that erupted from the bottom of his stomach, folding over at the waist from the force. He clutched at your shoulders in an attempt to remain standing and gasped in shuddering breaths. Eyes crinkled closed, nose scrunched upward, and smile lines on display, Wonwoo seemed to have unlocked a new level of joy.

“You are just fucking magnificent.” He praised in adoration, planting an affectionate kiss on your forehead. You short-circuited at the warmth that bloomed from the press of his lips on your skin.

This was new. You weren’t even sure it actually happened for a few beats, convincing yourself you’d simply imagined Wonwoo bending over you in the library to kiss you. Wonwoo kissed you. Like it was normal. And you couldn’t short-circuit in front on him because then it wouldn’t be normal.

Rapidly, you snapped back into the moment, coyly tucking your loose hair behind your ear. “Aren’t I just?” A large hand buried itself in your hair at the top of your head, giving it a playful ruffle. Wonwoo smoothed out the bumps he had created immediately after, delicately combing his fingers through and working out the minor tangles.

He was still going to rip this guy a new asshole.

After the incident outside the restaurant and especially after the moment in the library, there was an obvious shift in the dynamic of your relationship. Or maybe your relationship had changed before then and you just hadn’t picked up on it. Because while you were second guessing every action, word, and expression, Wonwoo seemed entirely in his element— unfazed even. It seemed that kissing your best friend was an entirely normal thing for him to do, despite having never done it before and generally not being all that open to physical affection.

You didn’t want to be uncomfortable around Wonwoo— he had been your safe space for as long as you could remember. But the once-clear waters of your relationship had turned murky and tricky to navigate. More disorienting was the fact that Wonwoo wasn’t uncomfortable. At least if he had been, you could acknowledge whatever this weird, new thing was and figure this out together. But you couldn’t bring it up like this and risk Wonwoo denying that anything was different between the two of you.

Things were different though. Like, was Wonwoo auditioning for the role of boyfriend or something? Because while he had always been attentive, things were escalating at a dizzying, heart-fluttering pace.

Wonwoo seemed to always have a hair tie around his wrist— always had since he witnessed you struggle to eat without your hair slipping into your face when you were kids and heard you grumble that you forgot one for volleyball. He’d offer you the hair tie and you’d gush out something appreciative along the lines of, “As expected, you’d never let me down.” Even now, he’d unhook the elastic from his wrist on particularly windy days, or when he’d watched you toss your hair back one too many times when you were studying, presenting it to you in his outstretched palm. You hadn’t thought much of the sweet gesture until now.

The escalation of this routine came when Wonwoo began tying your hair for you, wordlessly gathering your hair with long, nimble fingers and securing it low and loose out of your way; he always avoided wrapping it too tightly or too high, anxious of causing you a tension headache. The brush of his warm hands always brought you back to where you sat in the library, processing his kiss and affectionate touches. The tips of his fingers would sweep the sensitive skin of your neck from behind and you would still, anticipating the pressure of his lips against your heated skin again. But it never happened.

Overall, Wonwoo was more touchy lately— not exactly a high hurdle— and you just didn’t know how to act. You know— other than soak it up. You were more than receptive to being spoiled by his physical affection, be it platonic or romantic. After fumbling through the first week of the new development of sides pressed together, tender hands brushing hair out of your face, and the light pressure of his chin resting atop your head when he approached you from behind, you decided to return it enthusiastically and see if you could finally force Wonwoo’s hand.

You found him reading while leaving one of your classes, his form relaxed on one of the benches that lined the courtyard. His neck was craned down, attention focused on his class reading, expression neutral. Despite still being deemed intimidating and off-putting by those who never spoke to him, Wonwoo was undeniably dashing in his quiet confidence. The sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw only became more accentuated during college (perhaps a result of the poor college student diet) and his already-penetrating eyes intensified when he chose to forego glasses for contacts— which wasn’t very often.

You detoured out of his line of vision to close in on his back, careful to keep your steps light. Successfully avoiding popping him out of his study bubble, you looped your arms over his wide shoulders, leaned into his back, and chimed his name in greeting. Immediately, he tilted his head up to meet your eyes with a lopsided grin, his eyes twinkling knowingly— Wonwoo could smell your shampoo wafting in the comfortable breeze as you neared. Now, with the close contact of your skin, he could smell the light moisturizer you had used since you were in middle school. He permitted himself a deep inhale, reveling in the clean, fresh scent.

“Hey,” He greeted, voice low and clear. The faint wind ruffled his hair— he had allowed it to grow longer than it’d ever been before, which still wasn’t very long, but the waves grazed his eyes in airy wisps. “Good class?”

You hummed affirmatively, taking the opportunity to card your fingers through his tousled hair with a practiced ease like you’d done it for as long as you’d known him. He dissolved into your touch, clicking his tablet off and trading his classwork for your attention.

“Vibe night?” He asked like you had ever previously declined or planned to decline a night spent relaxing together at one of your places. It was just like how you would retreat home from school to one of your living rooms to do homework, read, play video games, or whatever in each other’s presence growing up. The escalation here yet again entailed increased physical contact and noticeably domestic undertones. Some days you’d accompany one another grocery shopping for dinner and snacks before kicking the night off.

On days where the academic grind had vacuumed the life force out of the both of you, it was a detour to a restaurant to get takeout. You had your go-to spots that you rotated through, dependent on the weather and your moods. By now, the employees recognized your pair and your typical orders. One of the last times you’d visited during midterms two weeks back, the elderly owner of the Thai restaurant had been delighted when you stepped in, announcing joyfully that you had visited on couples night so he threw a dessert on the house into your to-go bag.

It wasn’t uncommon for the nature of your relationship to be misunderstood, so you began to gently correct the well-meaning man with a polite smile. Before you uttered a syllable, Wonwoo’s deep voice vibrated beside you, graciously thanking the owner and fluidly swiping the paper bag from the counter where your hand was stretched to curl around the handle. Instead, Wonwoo’s large hand not occupied with the to-go bag enveloped yours and on instinct, your fingers squeezed around his.

With a farewell and another ‘thank you so much!’ the two of you exited the restaurant hand-in-hand. You expected him to drop the act and by extension your hand once you were a decent distance away from the windows, but Wonwoo kept your hand secured in his the entire walk home— which you would never complain about. The temperature had dropped for the season and the sun had already set under the horizon, so you would soak up the extra warmth emitting from your joined hands, burrowed into his jacket pocket. You could always rely on Wonwoo to purchase the coziest clothing, always fleecy and pleasant against your skin. His coat did not disappoint, the fuzzy lining offering you an excuse for how overheated you felt with your hand engulfed in his.

But that was two weeks ago when you were still flustered by Wonwoo’s abrupt swell of affection. If you were being entirely honest, his affection still shot prickles down your spine and numbed your fingertips, but you at least knew to expect it by now. Now it was a matter of being capable of having the same effect on him.

“You already know.” You agreed easily, before tacking on. “Whenever and however you want me.” You were absolutely referring to what time he wanted to meet up and at whose apartment, but to pass on the double entendre was a wasted opportunity. Wonwoo’s form went rigid under your touch, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. The ‘error 404 Wonwoo not found’ pop up was clear in his abruptly vigilant eyes. Flashing him a smile that spoke of nothing abnormal in your choice of phrase, you wished him a good class, manifested him being let out early, and blew him a kiss in farewell, a bounce in your step as you retreated.

You got him. Was it enough to convince him to make his move? You’d fuck around and find out, you supposed.

Later when Wonwoo finished his last class— from which he did get let out twenty minutes early (“You are so welcome.” “We got out because we finished his material.” “Because I’m magic. You should be super nice to me and let me choose the game.” “You can choose the game because it’s your turn, not because you’re magic.”)— he trekked to the library where you were busting out an assignment at an alarming speed to gather you for the night. You snapped your laptop shut, reaching for your bag you’d hooked on the back of your chair, only to discover Wonwoo was already holding the edges open for you. With an appreciative grin, you slipped the laptop into the padded sleeve and zipped it closed. Wonwoo fixed the straps of your bag over his shoulder, ignoring your insistence that you could carry it yourself, and together you walked to his apartment. Tonight, you didn’t hold hands on the journey and there was no fuzzy electric charge to the moment. It was as it usually was, with soft laughter and quiet recounts of your days just like it always has been.

Everything was just like was before until you entered his apartment.

Wonwoo held the door open for you to pass through the threshold, slipping in behind you and hanging both of your bags on the empty hooks lining the entrance. You wiggled out of your well-broken-in sneakers without undoing the laces and reached for the shoe cabinet by the entrance, but Wonwoo beat you to it. He crouched before the cabinet and snagged your designated pair of slippers, wordlessly placing them by your feet. Once you swapped into the slippers, he threaded two fingers under the tongues of your sneakers and neatly set them in the cabinet. Then, he followed suit and changed into his house shoes. It was hardly anything out of character for Wonwoo—he was always considerate, but your blood pulsed ferociously in the veins of your wrists at the small gesture.

It would have made sense to venture into the apartment instead of remaining in the entryway, but you stayed and watched as Wonwoo turned to face you. Your eyes met and the static charge returned to your fingertips. You swore his eyes darkened as they flickered further down your face. The limited space of the alcove demanded you hover in each other’s personal space close enough for a slight shift in your weight to force you to unintentionally brush against each other. The slightest touch would result in a static shock, you were positive. Wonwoo hovered closer and your breath was trapped at the top of your throat— if he adjusted the angle of his head, then he’d—

“Hungry?” He murmured, low tone fluttering in the pit of your stomach. “There’s some of the spinach salad in the fridge.”

Fuck auditioning for the role of boyfriend— this man was fully auditioning for the role of husband. Acts of service and making sure you were fed? Sold! To the man with abysmal eyesight and the instinct to anticipate your needs!

Unfortunately, you were far too queasy to trust yourself to eat anything at the moment. A damn shame, because you really did love his family’s spinach salad. “Later,” You promised. He didn’t press the matter despite knowing you hadn’t eaten since early that morning due to your packed class schedule. Nodding in agreement, Wonwoo pressed a large, warm hand to the small of your back, encouraging you into the apartment.

Immediately, you padded over to the large couch in the living room, folding up into your corner and snatching your emotional support circular throw pillow to rest your wrists on while you gamed. Wonwoo passed by the entertainment center, retrieving your designated controllers from the cabinet and waking the docked Nintendo Switch before heading toward the couch. He maneuvered around an arm chair, nabbing the throw blanket draped over the back. Once close enough, Wonwoo settled the fuzzy blanket across your lap, fixing the areas that bunched up, and then passed you your controller.

The blanket hadn’t always been a fixture of the living room. It was during your third time over at Wonwoo’s apartment when the two of you were watching the last few episodes of a drama when Wonwoo noticed you curled up and shivering. You’d intentionally worn long sleeves that day because the apartment was a freezer box— full blame on Wonwoo’s roommate who liked to live in the arctic— but it wasn’t sufficient to shield you from the unrelentingly glacial winds generated by the air conditioning. The last time you were over and frostbitten, Wonwoo had swaddled you in one of his oversized sweatshirts that smelled like freshly-washed laundry and a hint of something muskier. The cuffs were stretched to conceal your hands, likely from Wonwoo repeatedly tugging the fabric over his own hands when he wore it. When he heaved himself off the couch and disappeared into the hallway, you expected him to return with another one of his sweaters, but instead he brought back a crème colored blanket that he’d evidently just bought based on the tag he wound around his fingers to tug off with a snap of his wrist.

“Sorry, I forgot.” He smiled, a little sheepish, and handed you the blanket.

Ever since, the blanket had been yours. Its home was in the living room of Wonwoo’s apartment, waiting for your return.

Now, he dropped into his place on the couch cushion next to you. With a few rapid clicks of his thumb, the jingle of the Nintendo Home Screen sounded through the speaker system. Already queued into the first slot was Animal Crossing because it was your pick tonight, and you’d always pick Animal Crossing. It was here that you knew that Wonwoo was always a couple paces ahead of you, and he always knew what you needed.

He sensed the weight of your unwavering gaze and turned his attention toward you, about to ask you something, but the words died before he could even think them into existence. The controller he gave you sat abandoned at your side, your hands instead curled into the throw pillow resting on your thighs. Wonwoo was always ahead of you, perceptive of your every need. The slight tremble of your bottom lip, the glassy haze in your eyes, and the shallow rise and fall of your chest told him exactly what you needed then. He wouldn’t make you ask twice.

After carefully depositing his controller on the coffee table, Wonwoo shifted toward you, keeping his attention on your eyes in search of any indicator that you wanted out. He’d back away if you wanted, go back to lounging on the couch and playing video games with you if you gave so much as a hint that it was what you wanted.

You didn’t. A comforting hand that had held yours in his jacket pocket for warmth, combed through your hair to tie it out of your face, and hoisted you up from the floor of a cosmetic store gently settled at the back of your head— his hands were always big and safe. You curved your lips into a small, reassuring smile, and Wonwoo understood. In a split second, his free hand snatched his thin, round glasses from their perch of his nose and tossed them onto the coffee table. Then, your eyes fluttered shut and he closed the distance.

The static sensation returned full force, numbing your body with that fuzzy feeling that made you lightheaded, but you could still feel Wonwoo. Everywhere he touched sparked your nerves back into functioning condition. You could feel his safe hand resting on your waist and the heat diffusing from it, gently rubbing small circles into your skin with his thumb— just like he had done to your ankle. You could feel the confident force of his lips on yours, firm and slow, like he was savoring you, drawing out the moment for as long as he’d waited for it— he’d stay here with you for even longer than he’d waited if you wanted. You wouldn’t stop him. Trading your purchase on the pillow for the shoulders of Wonwoo’s dark blue sherpa jacket, you tried to pull him closer, unsatisfied with how distant you felt despite your physical contact. Wonwoo seemed to agree with the sentiment, slightly pulling back from your lips so that your noses still lightly grazed with every minuscule shift.

Your eyes blinked open when you registered his sturdy arm coil around your back, only to fall breathless again. His sharp eyes possessed an intensity you hadn’t seen him wear before. It wasn’t intimidating, but your skin flushed at the fervor. His usually neat enough dark waves were fluffed up; you hadn’t realized you’d done it in the moment, but one of your hands had languidly trailed up the back of his scalp moments ago. With slick coordination that surfaced every so often, Wonwoo slightly lifted you, slipping beneath you and settling you in his lap. Much better.

You discarded the fuzzy blanket pooled on your lap off to the side—you appreciated Wonwoo’s sweet gesture, but it was only in the way now. He reclined into the back of the couch and you swayed right after him, abdomen flushed against him and your arms looping behind his neck. His build really was a whole lot more athletic than you realized now that you rested on his powerful thighs and his firm back shuddered under your palms. Wonwoo tilted his head up and to the side, a lopsided smile quirking the corner of his mouth, gums just barely peaking out— his bottom lip was more pigmented and puffier than usual. His high cheekbones glowed in the dimmed light from the TV, and you don’t think you’d ever seen him so rugged before. The expression could have been mistaken for being haughty— you knew him better than that though. It was still that same smile that spoke to his softhearted nature, the one that had him doting on you as easily as he breathed. You answered his grin with an eager press of your lips, relishing in the cautious pressure of his tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

That was how Soonyoung discovered the two of you, rounding the corner that connected the hallway to the living room and damn-near smacking the back of his head on the wall in his haste to retreat. Then, Jihoon stepped out of his own room and approached him, disgruntled by Soonyoung’s hand spasming and smacking against his chest.

“Look at our boy.” He whispered, a proud gleam twinkling in his eyes, not missed by Jihoon. Uninterested, Jihoon poked his head around the corner, immediately regretting it and whirling to criticize his silly-ass roommate.

“Don’t watch them, you fucking creep.” He hissed. And with that and a nose crinkled in immense judgement, Jihoon crept back into his room, ignoring Soonyoung’s insistence that he hadn’t been watching.

“What made you tell me?” You asked, breaking the peaceful silence while you relaxed on the couch, still nestled together, then clarified. “Now, I mean.”

“I was sure you’d figure it out eventually.” Then Wonwoo huffed mirthfully at that adorably optimistic belief he held onto for over six years. “And then we were well into college and that never happened.”

Your blank stare and light press of your lips told him you were both unsatisfied with his answer and knew him well enough to call him on the probably half-true bullshit. No way did he just get impatient and go ‘fuck it.’ Unless something happened, Wonwoo was capable of waiting decades before making his move. He would have, had his instigation of increased physical affection been received uncomfortably by you. But he was always under the assumption that you weren’t interested in a romantic relationship and not that you were unaware of his long kindled affection for you.

All things said and done, there was no harm in waiting to pursue a romantic relationship with you. Wonwoo had always been a significant fixture in your life, whether his role was friend or romantic partner didn’t add or subtract from the quality of your relationship. The both of you had always had each other anyway.

“I met up with Mingyu,” Wonwoo admitted, a bashful grin tugging a corner of his lips up. “And he asked me how you were.”

You blinked, not quite following his line of reason. “Okay?”

“But he asked me like, ‘How’s your girlfriend doing?’ And I told him I hadn’t asked you out.” He spoke at a rapid fire pace, and if you hadn’t engraved his speech pattern into your chest, you would have had to ask him to repeat himself. “He lost his mind. Like, the disappointment was palpable.” He recounted with an exhausted droop of his eyelids. “Told me to pull my head out of my ass, that it was pathetic that I liked you for years and did nothing, and that he’d come visit himse—“

You stiffened at that information, interrupting him. “Wait, Mingyu knew that you liked me before I knew that you liked me?” Seriously, Kim Mingyu figured it out before you? Sure, you weren’t in grade school anymore, but according to Jihoon, Mingyu had very much not changed. (”I heard from a friend at his college that he almost choked at orientation because he tried to drink soju through his nose on a dare.”)

Wonwoo winced sympathetically, corners of his eyes crinkling in the same way they did when he physically could not contain his joy, and his hand moved to smooth the loose hair out of your face and tuck it behind your ear. “Yeah, I know. A bit of a low blow there, huh?” An understatement.

Your chin returned to its resting place on his chest, a self-reflective frown quirking the corners of your lips down, and sighed, “Man.”

A husky laugh huffed out through his nose before turning into hearty chuckles that heaved his chest up and down, taking your form relaxed on top of his with it. “Don’t sweat it.” Wonwoo reassured, thumb lightly brushing your cheek, a warmth in his dark eyes that you were slowly becoming familiar with seeing your reflection in. “I still love you.”

It wasn’t the first time Wonwoo had caught you off guard with his blunt delivery of significant information. He tended to come to conclusions early on and then fold them over a few times to stash them in his back pocket like he would a receipt. Out of sight, out of mind, but still always with him nonetheless. It was entirely possible that Wonwoo carried his love for you shoved deep in a nook he hadn’t paid much attention to for far longer than he, or you, or anyone realized.

Maybe he loved you when he intentionally packed a large serving of your favorite spinach salad his dad made for your scheduled lunches together in grade school. Or it could have been when Mingyu unintentionally let slip that you asked him to play basketball with him to improve his reputation. He had to have known it to be true when he willingly offered his skin as your canvas for lip products. Then it was reinforced by that abysmal orientation dinner you both bailed on. And again every time you surprised him, and when you didn’t, and he knew exactly what you were going to do or say or need. He loved you in the second controller he brought with him when he moved into his apartment, decorated with your favorite Animal Crossing villagers. He was never just giving you a blanket on the nights you spent curled up together in his apartment— he was handing you far more than that.

Wonwoo was content with you simply accepting the affection he offered, but your reciprocation was very much welcome and celebrated. With the way you cared for each other, he doubted much would change about your dynamic—he didn’t mind though. This was comfortable and warm, and as always, you were together.

You examined the lines of varying shades of pink swiped up your wrist, glistening under the fluorescent overhead light. So far, none of the swatches stirred anything in your heart. You slipped the tester back into the designated notch on the display and plucked the next one out of its home, twisting the applicator out.

A familiar hand appeared from behind you, cradling your outstretched arm in long fingers to steady it. Warmth pulsed under the pads of his fingertips and bloomed into your wrist. Wonwoo peered over your shoulder, thoughtfully surveying the array of glosses painted on your skin. Then, he tapped his index finger twice to the side of one of the samples, “I like that one.”

“Yeah?” You crane your neck to cast a coy gaze over your shoulder at him, fluttering your lashes for effect. “Buy it for me and I’ll let you kiss it off me.”

He knew you were absolutely serious by the mischievous grin and twinkle in your eyes. Wonwoo nodded in agreement, his eyes dark, and pressed a tender kiss to the side of your head. He adjusted so his lips lightly grazed the shell of your ear, sending that fuzzy feeling down your neck and spine.

“Pick three.”

౨ৎMasterlist

[tossawary]

There's something... tremendously funny and bewildering to me about AU choices in fanfiction that are distractingly irrelevant to the story. I'm going to pick on omegaverse here for my example, because my feelings on it as a setting are complicated and nuanced and also often petty as hell. But it can apply to any other AU type.

I view omegaverse as, essentially, a speculative science-fiction concept. It asks questions like "What if there were these 3+ accepted genders?" and "What if people had THIS weird feature of biology?" and then it runs with that, creating and exploring new worlds and, in doing so, making statements on our own world's relationships to sex and gender and sexuality and bodily autonomy and so on. There are many, many different ways to do omegaverse, some of which admittedly squick me out personally, some of which I just don't like.

Sometimes, the world building is fascinatingly intricate and thoughtful. Sometimes, the world building has the painted-cardboard quality of a "Star Trek" episode: it's just there to make a heavy-handed statement about sex and gender discrimination and it'll fall apart if you poke it too hard. With fanfiction, it also generally becomes a tool with which to examine a specific character's relationship to sex, gender, sexuality, and so on.

Sometimes, the main purpose of omegaverse as an element in a story is sexual titillation. It's a vessel for kinky stuff, like power dynamics and fantasy sex characteristics, uninterested in the broader world implications, and that's fine! Great! "Porn without plot" is still a purpose! It's very relevant to the story!

One of the many ways omegaverse settings can squick me out is when... hmm... it feels anti-feminist and anti-queer, like the author is uncritically creating "Bioessentialist Cisheteronormative Amatonormative Anti-Abortion Patriarchy Nightmare Scenario 2!" worlds, in which they've given no thought to what it would mean to be intersex or transgender or aromantic or asexual or sex-repulsed or polyamorous or disabled or childfree or infertile/sterile or adopted or mentally ill or a victim of abuse or a victim of assault, and so on. (Or the author outright states that all cultures around the world view sex and gender the exact same reductive way in this world, which is pretty racist and also very boring.) Yikes.

Like, uh, feels weird sometimes when you take a homosexual couple of characters and then turn them into an alpha/omega relationship, which is not only socially accepted but the equivalent of straight in this particular world, so that they can have bio-babies together. Feels bad when the author starts outright insisting that omega/omega and alpha/alpha couples are biologically impossible in this world and always doomed to failure. Feels absurd when the author is so into these exaggerated fantasy dominant/submissive concepts, such that there could apparently NEVER be a dominant omega and submissive alpha couple, that they accidentally imply that this world doesn't even have the cowboy/cowgirl sex positions. What the hell.

Like, you're using the weird sex world concept and insisting that people are only having this world's equivalent of vanilla, straight, reproductive sex? And also actively shitting on other stuff? Like the basic concept of sex toys??? Fuck off!

But, you know, even the bioessentialist reinforcement of gender roles, even uncritical enthusiasm for benevolent sexism, is still a purpose for a narrative element? I hate it, but the omegaverse is still actively doing something in this story even if I think it's doing something bad.

It gets REALLY confusing to me when omegaverse is included but irrelevant. Character 1 and Character 2 are in a Modern Coffee Shop AU, having a very basic romance, and they just also happen to be an alpha and omega. No, there are no heats or ruts or weird sex. No, there's not even any weird scenting things going on. No, there's not really any commentary on gender roles or discrimination. The story is just doing a full-world gender-bend with fantasy genders for... no clear reason?

Maybe it's to assure us that the characters won't face any societal homophobia and will be able to get married and have bio-babies down the line without issue? (Again, yikes.) But even that's unclear.

Like, damn, might as well make up a new set of fantasy genders based on star signs and apply that to your AU just because. Might as well make up new irrelevant genders based on the four seasons. If you're going to go "Imagine an AU where the characters are Red Gender and Blue Gender!!!" then I kind of expect you to have an answer if I ask, "Why, though? What's the appeal? Is it relevant to your story? Is the world changed in any meaningful way?"

I am not approaching anyone's self-indulgent fanfiction in this way, to be clear. If I don't like it, I just leave.

The answer to "Why is this story element here?" can be: "I just like it." But I do think it's funny and weird to encounter AU elements that, in my opinion, are actively dragging a story down.

Omegaverse generally doesn't even have a great aesthetic going for it. "Imagine this character as a modern punk!" or "Imagine this character as an enjoyer of gothic lolita fashion!" at least gives me some mental visuals and character self-image study thoughts to chew on, even if the author isn't explicitly using those fashion choices as a tool to examine a character's relationship with gender and to a community and to broader society.

With irrelevant omegaverse, what the author has written might be some otherwise interesting character thoughts or a meet-cute, but I can't focus on that because I'm too distracted wondering why the fuck the speculative kink genders are here.

[princessjojo-x]

Mars Synastry

💝 mars opposite mars - the nature of this aspect depends on the signs involved. in some cases, one mars will be strong & the other mars will be debilitated. this will occur with aries & libra, scorpio & taurus, capricorn & cancer. the pink mars tends to be more dominant & direct, especially when angered. the purple mars tends to be more indirect, resulting in manipulative or passive-aggressive behavior. partners function completely differently to one another which leads to arguments & frustration. this aspect can be quite volatile so partners need to learn to understand & compromise with each other. the pink mars will need to learn to back off & calm down at times. the purple mars will need to practice being more direct & forthright. however, when this aspect appears in the other possible signs: pisces & virgo, gemini & sagittarius, aquarius & leo, this aspect actually adds balance to the rxship. partners will be able to work well together & compliment each other since these mars signs are of relatively equal strength.

💝 mars opposite venus - you never have to worry abt lack of desire with this aspect. there’s strong attraction that never leaves or becomes luke warm. partners will never get bored of making love to one another even after years of being together. this intense, romantic & sexual energy may even border obsession. one has traits that the other lacks meaning they complement each other perfectly & give each other what one another wants. partners work well in bed together bc it gives ”omg are you a top? perfect bc i’m a bottom” typa energy. however, this rxship can easily become complex, unstable & fluctuating (almost like a roller-coaster). sometimes partners are immensely attracted to each other, other times they’re repulsed by each other. one partner, usually venus is more submissive whilst the other, usually mars is more dominant. sometimes mars may be outraged by venus’s obedience & sometimes venus may be disturbed by mars’s dominance. (sco venus/mars)

💝 mars opposite asc - mutual physical attraction which leads to bold & straightforward expressions of sexual tension. mars takes charge of the rxship which makes asc feel frustrated. despite mars being supportive of asc self-expression, asc feels nervous abt asserting their rights in the rxship. (cap mars or sco asc)

💝 mars square asc - expect aggression & conflict. mars’s energy makes asc feel weak, threatened or pressured. if asc is a man & mars is a woman, she’ll feel like he’s not manly enough. for instance she doesn’t like how he handles conflict or she doesn’t see him as ambitious enough. (aries/libra mars or leo/aqua asc)

💝 mars opposite jupiter - instant chemistry between the two. jupiter loves to provoke, test & play games with mars. (cap mars or sco jupiter)

💝 mars square jupiter - this rxship is full of friction. jupiter thinks they know best & belittles mars with their lecturing. mars wont put up with it & wont let jupiter take a win. there’s plenty of sexual attraction but partners may have different sexual preferences. partners can inspire one another to gain new experiences, adventures & knowledge. partners have great conversations abt all their potential plans, ideas, etc. but usually one (likely mars) feels frustrated with the other (likely jupiter) for not taking action on these ideas. (aqua/leo jupiter or libra/aries mars)

💝 mars opposite sun - hot & cold rxship, on & off rivalry. (lib mars or sco sun)

💝 mars square mars - very toxic synastry with a frustration & war-like dynamic. (leo/aquarius mars)

💝 mars square pluto - expect intense passion, sexual chemistry & power struggles. there’s potential for abuse & violence too. pluto virtually activates the dark side of mars. mars will go through a self awakening & learn many lessons through pluto. partners tend to ghost each other but mars usually comes back to pluto. mars feels like pluto is very controlling & judgmental. (pisces/virgo mars or leo/aqua pluto)

💝 mars square neptune - this indicates a lack of communication. mars behaves selfishly in this dynamic & mars is in charge in this rxship. meanwhile, neptune tends to suppresses themselves. & doesn’t understand mars’s actions or intentions. (taurus/scorpio mars or leo/aqua neptune)

💝 mars conjunct pluto - this aspect forces partners to confront their deepest desires & greatest pains. many *intense* experiences will be shared together. this may turn into an all-consuming rxship that leaves you without any energy left to give. (taurus pluto or sag mars)

💝 mars conjunct juno - it’s likely mars is very possessive & protective of juno. but juno may dislike how mars expresses this attraction. (leo mars or taurus juno)

💝 mars conjunct jupiter - mars leans on jupiter for support, wisdom or optimism. partners brighten each others bad mood bc they’re constantly having fun together (playing, flirting, etc) no matter the context or setting. this is a dramatic & fiery rxship with plenty of passion & chemistry. partners tend to argue a lot & it’s usually jupiter who mediates the situation. if jupiter is female & mars is male, her presence will expand & amplify his martian energy (libido, aggression, competitiveness, etc). (cancer mars or taurus jupiter)

[bartyism]

anything for you. theodore nott.

in a universe where voldemort won, you and theo risk everything.

reposted from my old account.

warnings: graphic death

pairing: theodore nott x ron weasley's twin sister!reader

“You can’t possibly love him, y/n. He’s a bloody Death Eater!” your brother had jeered at you. Hot tears ran down your face but you refused to wipe them. You wanted everyone in the room to see how deeply this was hurting you.

“I have never been more sure of something in my life. While you were gone – while everyone was gone – he was the only constant. He isn’t who you think he is.” The room broke out into a chorus of repulsed sounds. The Order of the Phoenix wasn’t much these days, the predominant members being the Weasley family. Harry Potter’s death loomed over everyone. Numerous other deaths piled on: those who died at the beginning of the war, but those who have died recently like your older brothers, Percy and George, and your father, Arthur.

“He thinks we’re scum! He would kill Hermione on the spot. How can you stand there and say this shit?” another brother had chimed in. Voices were starting to overlap the more trapped you felt.

“You’ve never given him or myself the chance to prove that’s not true! If you remember, Theo was the one who told me about everything Draco was doing back in school. He has already given us so much information. He’s climbing the ranks, but he is doing it for us!” you fell to your knees, exhaustion and frustration getting the best of you. “Can’t you see that even if he’s not doing it for all of you, he’s putting his life on the line trying to help secure a world that I feel safe in? You know how my beliefs align!”

“Has he stopped killing innocent people? Does he still partake in Voldemort’s plans that don’t necessarily target us? If he’s climbing the ranks, I can’t begin to imagine what he’s doing to do so,” your mother inquired, shooting daggers at you. You couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“He’s doing what he can to survive, too. If he dies, we will lose so much.” Without missing a beat, you added, “If he dies, I am as good as dead.”

This conversation, over a year old, still rings in your head every time you meet Theo. Your current setup in an old warehouse allowed these thoughts to amplify. The only sounds keeping you from spiraling were the rhythmic tapping of Ron’s foot and Bill’s pacing. You never got to see Theo alone, but that wasn’t a horrible thing.

Though you wanted nothing more than to have one evening alone with him, as selfish as that sounds given the climate of the world right now, the positive came in the form of the people who joined you on these exchanges and started to see through the cracks in Theo’s character. This hardened soldier who bears the Dark Mark turns into someone else in your presence. He is more patient and gentle, as compared to the man that numerous members of the Order have seen slaughter people in cold-bold, just to laugh at their frozen-in-death facial expressions.

You had noticed changes in Theo throughout the last few times you’d seen him. He was much more focused on you than the information they were there to exchange. He’d almost become frantic – dark circles that got darker every time you saw him circled his eyes, and his face had become much more caved in. He was starting to look as though he were actively being tortured. He didn’t look better this time around.

You sprang up from your spot when you heard the metal door grind against the floor, opening quicker than anticipated. Ron and Bill quickly put their wands up and took aim at Theo, refusing to put them down even when you yelled, “It’s just him!” Theo didn’t respond much better, raising his wand and aiming at Bill, who you knew Theo saw as more of a threat than Ron.

“Are you being followed? What made you come in here like that?” Bill growled, eyes flickering between Theo and the entrance. Theo narrowed his eyes at the older man.

“You think I would lead them straight here if I was? If it was just you two, sure. But, I would never do that with her here. Consider yourself lucky,” Theo spit.

“That’s enough. Are you alright?” you stated, briskly walking to your lover. Up close, you noticed faint bruising around his neck, as if he’d been choked. Theo didn’t say anything and instead, kept his eyes locked on the two men standing behind you. “Theo,” you trailed off, putting one hand on his cheek. You searched his eyes for any type of response, but you couldn’t find one.

“You don’t have much time,” he said, only loud enough that Ron and Bill were barely able to hear. You took a slight step back, still close enough that you could hold his hand – the hand that he couldn’t even bring himself to grasp in return.

“What?”

“The Dark Lord knows there’s a mole in his closest circle. He knows you are not dead, despite me telling him you were,” Theo said, finally making eye contact with you. Your mouth fell open and you held his hand tighter.

Theo lost his will to fight at that exact moment, letting his hand holding his wand fall to his side. He pulled you into him and rested his forehead against yours. “He knows you’re the mole?” you whispered.

“Not yet, but I can’t imagine it taking much longer. His eyes are set on Berkshire – thinks he’s gotten scared now that his mother died. I was able to ward him off me for the time being. I told him that I wasn’t the one to kill you, I just saw you get hit with a nasty spell.”

“Come with us before it’s too late, Theo. How many times do I have to beg you? Turn your back on it all. We can keep you protected.” you pleaded, looking back at your brothers for reassurance. Bill shook his head before Ron chose to speak.

“He is not coming back with us. Do you know what kind of target that would place on us? It would be a death sentence,” he spit. “With that Dark Mark, I’m sure Voldemort could summon you back to him at any given second,” he added. You spun around to confront him but Theo was quicker – he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Weasley,” Theo said with such spite behind his words that it made you want to cower away from him. He looked down at you, asking you a silent question. You bit your lip in thought, looking over at your brothers. 

“Could you guys give us a minute to ourselves? Just stand guard at the door.” With a few grumbles, you were able to convince them to leave. As soon as the door shut, you wrapped your arms around Theo as tight as you could, reassuring yourself that he was here with you and still alive. For how much longer he would be alive, no one was certain.

“You can leave them. Even if you don’t take refuge with us, you can escape,” you pleaded. Theo softly shook his head and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“No, y/n, I can’t. I’m bound to him until one of us dies. I…” he trailed off. You frantically started shaking your head at him and he sighed. “We knew this was going to happen.”

“You might have known. I held out hope,” you cried. Theo grabbed your chin gently, using the other hand to wipe away the stray tears. “Promise me you won’t die.”

“Y/n…”

“Promise me, Theo.” 

His response never came. Theo pulled you into him and kissed you so tenderly, that it was beyond out of character for him. You knew this was the end. He softly ran his hands down your sides, over your back, anywhere they could grasp. It felt as though he was trying to remember the exact shape of your body. He eventually tried to pull away, but in return, you softly bit his lip and pulled him back in. 

Theo couldn’t bring himself to let go of you. You were intoxicating in a way that no drug or drink could replicate. Not breaking the kiss, Theo hoisted you onto a table that was just behind you. Laying you down on it, he kept kissing you. Along your jaw, down your neck – Theo kissed you anywhere with an exposed bit of skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying, to which Theo then kissed away your tears. When he was finished, he pulled you up into a sitting position.

“Love, you are the only thing in this short existence of mine that I’ve ever been sure of. When I die, I can die happily because I knew you. I got to love you.” Theo whispered, his voice cracking as he professed to you. You leaned your forehead against him, looking him straight in the eye.

“Try to survive, Theo, please. For me,” you pleaded. Theo nodded briefly but was interrupted by a banging on the door. 

“Hurry up, it’s getting dark. We need to leave,” Bill’s voice called out. Bill and Ron both reappeared in the room, looking at the two of you expectantly.

“We need to leave, and you still haven’t given us what we came for,” Bill sighed. Theo tensed and pulled himself away from you, putting his facade back on as if it were a costume. Part of you wished he didn’t, just so they could see the real him.

“The Dark Lord plans to raid Hogsmeade, again. You need to make sure everyone is evacuated. He doesn’t plan on ever having to raid them again. In two days, if you don’t create a plan, everyone still living there will be dead.”

“And will you be one of the Death Eaters killing those people?” Ron inquired.

“If it means that it keeps me alive, and keeps a steady stream of information coming to you, yes. I have never been unclear with my intentions.” Theo said. He was significantly taller than Ron, forcing the redhead to look up at him as Theo walked closer to him, slowly.

“We don’t have time for this,” Bill said, getting visibly anxious. “We’re leaving,” Bill added, grabbing you and Ron both by the arm. 

Everything happened so fast after that – you reached out for Theo, but he backed away from you and you could’ve sworn you saw a tear run down his face. Just like that, you were whisked away, Bill choosing that moment to apparate. You didn’t get to say goodbye; you didn’t get to tell him you loved him for the last time.

Three days later, after their failed attempt at raiding Hogsmeade, you and your family watched in horror as Voldemort was broadcasting yet another round of executions. This wasn’t the first time this had happened – the first time being with his son, Mattheo, a boy you had known in school. You can’t recall the exact reason for his death, but it set a standard. If Voldemort would kill his child in such ways, what would he do to others?

You held your breath as the camera view panned down the small row of people awaiting their death. You felt the wind get knocked out of you when you caught sight of him.

The boy you loved was there, his eyes already dead. His appearance was, somehow, much worse than when you had last seen him. The bruising around his neck that had almost been healed was now back in full display, accompanied by bruises all over his face. He had blood dried around his mouth and nose, and his left eye was so swollen that it looked completely closed. Something told you that death was merciful compared to what he had been put through.

Voldemort rambled on about the first three men, killing them quickly. His smile never failed, especially when he turned to the last victim: Theo.

“Theodore Nott, what would your father say?” He teased. He pulled a wand out of the box that a servant of his carried at his side. Raising it, you recognized it to be Theo’s. Voldemort snapped it in half, causing a slight flinch to radiate off Theo.

“Stupidly fell in love with a dirty blood traitor, one of those Weasleys. He’s acted as an agent for them this entire time, but of course, I knew from early on. We’ve played a brilliant game of cat and mouse, haven’t we, Nott?” Voldemort, again, laughed. Every muscle in Theo’s body was tensed up and he never lifted his face to look at the crowd that had gathered or the cameras broadcasting the event.

Noticing Theo's aversion to looking at the crowd, Voldemort ran his fingers through Theo's hair before yanking it back, forcing him to look up. Theo grimaced but finally looked straight at the camera. His good eye bore through you, sending your heart straight to the bottom of your stomach.

You started sobbing, sliding off the couch and crawling towards the hologram showing the entire scene. “Please,” you gasped. Hermione sat behind you, pulling you into her, but you fought her off. 

“You were special to me,” Voldemort sighed and raised his wand. You grabbed whatever was closest to you – in this case, a plate someone had been eating off of earlier – and threw it through the hologram. The sound of your sobs and the plate exploding against the wall ricocheted around the hideout.

Another one of your older brothers, Charlie, moved Hermione aside and restrained you. Without doing so, you would’ve hurt yourself or someone else. “Get off me,” you repeatedly screamed, thrashing around on the ground.

Charlie was able to hold you in place on the ground, holding you facedown on the carpet with your arms pinned behind your back. To your horror, you turned your head to the side just in time to see a green light encase Theo in its grip. 

The cry you let out was movie-worthy. Using all of your strength, you burst out of Charlie’s grip and jumped up, turning on your surviving family members. “He died for us. He died for us and our cause. You never gave him a chance and never wanted to offer help in return,” you sobbed. Hermione came back to your side and held you in her arms. 

You didn’t fight back this time. You sat in her arms and sobbed. You couldn’t stop sobbing as you looked back at the hologram and it was panned to Theo’s dead body. It zoomed in on his face as if to hurt you even more. You watched as Voldemort whispered a simple charm, and flames consumed Theo’s body.

“I hope the Weasleys watching this enjoyed the show. While you watched this we have surrounded your hideout. Even Nott’s Occlumency he worked so hard on for you couldn’t keep me out. Perhaps it’s good that you never trusted him with your exact location, or else this would’ve happened long ago.” Voldemort smiled, and the hologram shut off. There was no noise in the room other than your silent sobs. 

Then, the first window exploded.

[space-emperor]

It’s kind of funny to me that the Djesh started as an afterthought/side joke that didn’t feature largely in the plot but have absolutely become the most interesting part of the story to me.

They’re big old parasitic xenomorph-lookin space bug women, right? They do not have a binary sex—only a select few choose to metamorpihize into a reproductively mature imago, while the others remain infertile neonates for their entire lives. Functionally they are all hermaphroditic and can reproduce sexually or asexually depending on environmental pressures. But also: they’re all women. As far as they’re concerned, so is everyone else.

Their closest concept to gender is relational:

A mother is anyone who creates with her body. This could be a literal gestational mother who lays eggs, fertilizes, or gives birth, but it can also mean a creature or person serving as host to the parasitic larvae. A mother in this sense is typically a final, fatal role immediately preceding death.

The Djesh do not distinguish between “mother” and “aunt” but for translation purposes it’s easier to explain with different terms. An aunt is a type of parent who participates in the rearing of young. If a mother or host survives and helps to raise a child, it counts as an aunt-parent. An aunt’s role is to teach and protect and to transmit stories from one generation to the next. An ideal Djesh family consists of many aunts raising young communally—possibly dozens. A family with too few aunts is considered deeply taboo in a way that’s comparable to incest. A Djesh encountering a two-parent nuclear human family for the first time would be horrified and disturbed and have trouble accepting that an intelligent species would reproduce like animals.

A sister is any independent adult who is not actively occupying a parental role. An aunt will revert to sister when her young reach adulthood. An aunt who abandons her role before then is committing a grave taboo—if a Djesh encounters a human who has been deployed on a military or scientific endeavor and left children at home, she will be repulsed and disturbed and potentially hostile.

A daughter is anyone, specifically a child, dependent upon a caregiver. I haven’t made up my mind yet on how this intersects with Djesh conceptions of disability but it’s something I may want to explore.

A Djesh will continue to molt and grow indefinitely. It’s possible that they have the technical capacity for immortality, with no set upper limit. They can regenerate limbs with each molt of their skeletons. As they age, however, the time between each molt grows longer, and the process becomes more difficult and perilous. Because this molting process functions as the only natural limitation on lifespan, there is a taboo against interfering. To succumb to the temptation to help a loved one with a bad molt that would otherwise kill them is to curse them and is a kind of spiritual betrayal… it’s very evil and very, very romantic. The idea of it is horrifying and tragic but they also eat that shit up like it’s Shakespeare.

Most importantly, of course, the Djesh are biologically dependent upon stories. They cannot be Djesh without them. You could incubate and hatch a Djesh egg in a laboratory and provide the larva with all the nutrients it required, but unless you (and, ideally, your entire team) spent time constantly telling it stories, it would never grow into a Djesh. It would survive, sure, but it would take the form of a weird gelatinous animal. This is why Djesh familial units consist of many aunts: the stories and narratives they pass on give Djesh children physical form and act as genetic information more substantially than whatever they inherit biologically. The more stories, the more diverse and robust their DNA-analogue. This is why most Djesh remain neonates and die infertile—they are able to reproduce more effectively by passing down stories than by producing/fertilizing eggs.

Turantirok is sometimes described as the Djesh “religion”. And it is, but only sort of—different populations may have different mythologies and beliefs, but turantirok is better defined as the cosmic force that drives narrative. To other species, Djesh may seem to behave erratically and seemingly act against their own interests. Even those few who manage to get around the language barrier struggle to understand the Djesh, and they are broadly regarded by other species as dangerously insane. In reality, Djesh have an innate instinct for turantirok—they will act according to whatever they believe best furthers a cosmic narrative, up to and including self-destruction. This was an evolutionary adaptation to pass on better stories to their descendants, but now that their planet is incorporated into a galactic civilization, turantirok may be an existential threat.

[gothamcitycentral]

Alastor’s depiction means a lot to me as an aro man- in part because I really did not have high expectations for him as Aroace rep. I figured he was made to be Aroace because he’d be ~inhuman and distant and unable to form emotional connections~. Maybe not like, actively aphobic but still a pretty lame stereotype.

But then in the show itself Alastor isn’t depicted like that at all. Not only does he have genuine attachment to his friends like Mimzy and Rosie and eventually the whole hotel, one of his conflicts is that he’s become too attached, that he almost died protecting those he cared about and not for his own goals.

His lack of romantic attraction and his sex repulsion is actively written into the show, not as something that “others” him but simply an aspect of what makes Alastor himself, treated with full positivity and support. It doesn’t define him, but it does impact his character and how he interacts with the world around him, as any sexuality would.

So, yeah, hats off to you Hazbin Hotel, you beat my expectations and have some of the best aromantic rep I’ve ever experienced, even without using the word in the show itself.

[bridgetotheskyyy]

Akatsuki; Gangbang/moresome

a/n: reader x akatsuki members! (pain, kakuzu, kisame, deidara, hidan, tobi - with zetsu present lmaooo. horrifically 18+ lol. Okay, two problems I know. NO ITACHI, also NO KONAN but I included the characters I think would be down with this and those two just don’t fit the bill.). oral, vaginal sex, ass play, degradation & praise. wc 3.8k

Kinktober Masterlist

“I’ve initiated a meeting with some of our wealthiest female donors,” Pain said as Akatsuki members arrived at the entrance. 

Itachi and Konan were not among them, the former having refused on the spot while it had simply not been the latter’s scene. Pain suspected a speckle of jealousy on Konan’s part, but had not argued with her decline.

Kisame studied the club and its lights, winking flirtatiously, and when realization dawned, shook his head with mock judgment. "You know some interesting people, Leader.”

Pain raised his brows. “As you all know, I do all I can to find donors who are willing to give to our organization.”

“It’s a fucking sex club,” Kakuzu snapped. “Doesn't that mean we're paying them?” 

Pain was quiet for a few seconds. “No. Tonight, we are offering our services.”

They were quiet in turn. 

“What …” Deidara started cautiously, “kind of services?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Hidan added. “From the sounds of it, we won’t be killing anyone.”

Pain shot him a dangerous look. “Certainly not. There's been an agreement. We've been offered to come here at no expense of our own.”

“So we're not paying?” Kakuzu said, ever the single minded one.

“That's correct.”

“What will we be doing?” Deidara said, determined to stop beating around the bush.

Pain delayed his answer, but nothing could soften the blow. “We will be offering pleasure to the woman.”

Silence, then ― 

“What?”

“Come again?”

"We're fucking for free?"

“Who would ―?”

"Ohhhh." Tobi, who was the only one unfazed by the announcement, fixed a hand on his hip. "Tobi has read about this!"

"You read?” Deidara quipped. 

"Yes! Its called hybris… hyber… " Tobi strained to recall. 

“Sound it out,” Deidara deadpanned. 

“It's a big word! But anyway, some girls like criminals and wanna be with them!”

“Tobi is right,” Pain said with an inscrutable look the aforementioned man’s way. “And the word is hybristophilia. In other words, our activities are not always repulsive to the fairer sex.” 

Kisame laughter sounded out amongst other nightlife jingles ― slot machines and bustling crowds. 

“Sometimes our activities attract,” Kisame smirked. “Leader’s not the only one keeping things interesting around here, I see.”

Pain straightened as it seemed as though the door would open, but it was only a false alarm. “If any of you wish to leave, you are free to do so,” he said. “Though, I suspect you won't.”

Deidara crossed his arms. “What makes you so sure?”

“I’m not sure,” Pain deadpanned as members of his group trailed eyes over a gaggle of pretty women walking by. “Just a feeling.”

Hidan recovered from his ogling to scoff. “Well, count me out. This is unclean ― not to mention totally beneath Lord Jashin.”

Pain looked Hidan over his shoulder. “I have let the club owners know that a percentage of whatever is made tonight be donated to any temple of our choosing.”

Hidan blinked. Shrugged. “It’s okay, then.” 

Deidara licked lips that’d become dry. “For how long? And ―” He struggled. “How much?”

Pain’s ringed eyes met his, a beat following before he replied, “As long as you can take. As much as you can take.”

The shock began to subside to be replaced with a sense of utter unreality. 

“Seriously?” Kakuzu said. “We’re really going to do this?” Kakuzu considered. “Then again, if we’re the ones being paid …”

“Don’t tell me you’re not the least bit curious outside of the dough,” Kisame teased. “Bet you haven’t had any in quite a while.”

“What’d you say?”

Just in time, the doors opened to reveal a madam. 

“Oh!” Said the big-wigged woman. “Lord Pain! Please, come in!” 

The woman led them into a dimly-lit hallway, doors lining either side into apparently oblivion. The big-wigged woman opened one of many and you, a much younger woman, appeared.

The woman leaned against the doorframe, dressed in nothing but silk, black lingerie with matching stockings. She giggled as she studied her clientele.

“If they told me there’d be so many of you, I would’ve worn less,” she purred. 

The big-wigged madam giggled. “Have fun, boys,” she said and closed the door.

You sauntered toward the bed in the room, sat and spread your legs. “So, who’s first?” 

Pain crossed the room immediately. 

“Le ― Leader!” Deidara’s face ran corrupted with red.

With one finger, Pain beckoned you to her feet. He got behind you, forcing you forward the group of criminals you would soon serve.

“Don’t any of you realize what I am offering you?” Pain crept into the crook of your neck, his lips dangerously close to leaving a kiss there. His hand crept over the planes of your stomach, eliciting a soft hum from you in return. “I am telling you …” 

Pain hooked fingers against the band of your panties, pulled them down to reveal your naked cunt. 

“We can do as we want with her …”

Immediately, the energy of the room changed. It grew hotter as Pain took the plunge, peppering your neck with kisses, one hand fingering your cunt while the other kneaded at your breasts. You moaned, the slick sounds of Pain’s fingers exploring your sopping folds mingling in the air. 

Kisame shrugged. “I’m game.” 

Pain removed both his fingers and form as Kisame approached. You whined in disapproval before Kisame’s hand took you by the throat. He pinned you to the wall across the bed. You released another moan as he tightened his grip over your neck.

“You like that, little girl?” Kisame teased. “Like to be choked?” 

“Mhmm, mmm …!”

“Oi.” Hidan crossed the room. “Save some for me. If these whores’ll be sending Jashin’s temple money, might as well …”

You squealed as Kisame threw you to the bed with a devilish chuckle. 

“There.” Kisame slapped the side of your cheek. “Take her mouth.”

Your mouth fell open and Hidan went to remove his coat, as Kisame did, before working on his zipper. 

The others ― Tobi, Deidara, Pain, and Kakuzu ― resigned to the sidelines. 

Deidara faced his leader to the sound of zippers and buckles loosening. “Aren’t you going to ―”

“Consider it a courtesy to the collective,” Pain said. “I will go last.”

Kakuzu huffed, but clearly something had changed in the man’s demeanor as Hidan and Kisame worked you out of the pretty lingerie Pain had left slack. “There’ll be enough holes to go around, I imagine.”

“Not with me in the room,” Kisame said, working your panties past your delicious thighs. 

He tugged his trousers down to reveal two cocks, blue-tinted along with the rest of his skin and springing hard and ready.

“She’s so pretty …” Tobi mused, surely drooling behind his mask of tangerine. 

You were fully nude now, save the stockings around your legs ― said legs now wrapped around Kisame’s waist at his breathy command. Hidan slapped the side of your mouth with his cock, watching you wince with sadistic pleasure before filling your mouth with him. He groaned, the sound harsh and heavy in his throat, when you moaned around his cock, elicited by Kisame entering both of your holes from behind. 

“Mmm ― mmfph!” 

“Aah, fuck!” Hidan buried a hand in your hair, forcing you forward to fuck your mouth properly. “Fuck her hard, Kisame. Her mouth, oh ―”

Kakuzu huffed ― but not before clearing his throat. “The night’s barely started and you’re already at your wit’s end, Hidan.” 

“All for Jashin ― aargh!” Hidan threw his head back as your hand massaged his balls. 

You squealed as Kisame quickened his pace, your eyes bulging wide as he split you open on not one, but two cocks at a time. The bed underneath you creaked as Kisame jutted his hips into your tight holes. His sharp nails tightened into bedsheets beside your head. 

Pain tilted his head in fascination. “How does she feel, Kisame?”

“Fan―fucking-tastic …!” He growled as he slapped his hips into you, rattling your body with the power of his thrusts. 

Tobi came forward and Deidara realized why ― after all, you had two free hands that could be put to use. 

In a flash, Tobi was out of his robe and tugging his trousers, hand fishing for his cock to place into your waiting, willing hand. 

Tobi shivered, gasped ― in a voice not quite his ― as your hand grasped his cock and stroked him obediently. 

“She’s a trooper,” Kisame said, thoroughly fucking you into the creaking mattress. He leaned forward to lick the side of your face. “Enjoying yourself, slut?”

“Yes ― oh, gods, yes ― mm!” Your words jumbled from your mouth when Hidan allowed it, before shoving himself back in.

“‘Course she does,” Hidan hissed. “All you whores are all the same, just holes waiting to be filled ― urgh!” 

You popped Hidan from your mouth to shoot a look at Pain, Kakuzu, and Deidara. “Mm! I have one more hand, c’mon, one more cock, I can take it, please!” 

Adrenaline shot through Deidara; he stepped forward ― only to be thwarted by Kakuzu shoving him to the side and taking his place. He dug for his cock with narrowed eyes, flashed green over your rolling tits. You reached for Kakuzu, stroking off both him and Tobi simultaneously. 

Kisame did not make it easy for you, fucking you mercilessly now. You couldn’t hold Hidan in your mouth anymore, but perhaps didn’t need to; Hidan began to stroke himself over your face, nearly at his limit. 

“Oh, gods, yes, pleasepleaseplease, feels so good, so good, all of you, mmhmm, please ―” 

Tobi moved his mask up his face a few inches and kneeled down to kiss you, his tongue shoving into your willing mouth. 

Hidan growled, shoved him away as he came, spurts of cum roping over your face and collarbone. You opened your mouth to scream as both your weeping cunt and tight ass clenched around Kisame’s cocks.

Kisame lurched over momentarily, before pulling out of you with a drawn-out grunt, the white of his cum shooting against your plush-pink folds and stomach. 

Being in the throes of climax seemed to adrenalize you, because your hands quickened their pace on the dual cocks in your hold, your motions becoming almost blurry as you jerked off the two men on above you. 

Kisame bowed out to collect his breath at the edge of the bed, meanwhile Tobi slotted into his space, turning you over on your hands and knees. 

“Wait,” Kakuzu growled out. “What do you think you’re ―?”

“Don’t worry, Kuzu.” You sat on your elbows, Kakuzu’s cock still fastened in your hold. “I can take care of you from here …” 

You swiped at Kakuzu’s cockhead, which seemed to satisfiy; his eyes shuddered closed and let you continue taking him in your mouth. 

You released a drawn-out moan as Tobi entered you from behind, forcing you forward. You caught yourself on your elbow, humming as Tobi bottomed out inside of you, hands secured tightly over your curvy hips. 

Hidan gripped the back of your head and forced you into the bush of Kakuzu’s pubic hair. 

“Mmmf!”

“Don’t think it’s over between you and me; I would never give such a paltry performance in the name of Jashin.” Hidan said, then removed himself from the bed. 

For once, Kakuzu made no angry retort; he rocked his hips forward, fucking your skilled mouth. He watched with still zombie eyes, fascinated with your head bobbing back and forth on his cock.

“She’s quite talented.” Pain’s voice carried with it an extra layer of silk, bordering on teasing. He turned to Deidara. “I see a hand free for you.” 

Deidara swallowed. Finally. He was already out of his cloak, adorning only the fishnet he donned underneath, his cock long and veiny and glued to his hand growing tacky with sweat. He approached you as Hidan pressed himself against the wall and slipped against it to sit on the floor. 

Kakuzu shot Deidara a glare as the younger man offered his cock to you. 

“Don’t think I’m sharing with you, circus freak.”

Deidara’s brow twitched. “Who’re callin ―”

“Don’t fight,” You purred before taking Kakuzu in your mouth again, cheeks hollowed against his cock while stroking Deidara lovingly.

Kakuzu lurched forward, hand over the small of your back before it found itself over the fat of your ass. Tobi planted a hand over your other cheek, fucking you from behind. A particularly harsh thrust nearly sent your head thudding against the wall, but he held you firmly to him, rolling his hips expertly into you. 

Deidara frowned as he watched the scene. Where’d he learn to fuck like that? 

You hummed with appreciation, sending Kakuzu shivering over you. 

“Urgh …” He gave your ass a slap before curling a hand under your stomach to fish for your clit. “She is good.”

“Was I lying?” Kisame joked with a sharp laugh. 

Kakuzu had only just found your sensitive nub to give it a series of grateful, circular strokes before Tobi knocked his hand away to do it himself. 

“Ahh!” You bucked back into Tobi as he fiddled with your clit. 

Kakuzu growled as you deep-throated him for the last time. “I’m ―!” 

You held him at the back of your throat as he finished inside you, swallowing his spent as he panted above you. 

You gripped Deidara with force, retiring from his shaft only to caress his balls. Deidara clenched a hand at the wall. You popped Kakuzu from your mouth and immediately you were on Deidara’s cock, licking the long expanse of it before to familiarize yourself with him.

“Such a pretty cock.” You shot him a stare in your breathy state, Tobi still fucking you from behind with mysterious skill, cum from previous escapades settled and dry against your cheek. “Almost as pretty as the rest of you …” 

“Hm ― hm … !” Deidara shuddered as you fit him in your mouth. 

Tobi slapped your ass before moving to thumb at the star of your ass, teasing the pucker you rocked on and off of him. 

“Mmm!”  

“Such a pretty miss,” Tobi breathed out, clearly at his limit. “Let me see pretty lady cum …”

You screamed around Deidara’s cock. He grunted viciously as you reached your limit, clenching down on Tobi. You were rocked with a few harsh, quick thrusts before Tobi forced himself to pull out, white leaking from his slit and into the crack of your ass. 

Deidara grabbed your ankle and forced you toward him. Without needing to be asked, you spread your legs, giving him the sight of your pussy clenching around nothing, still hungry. 

Deidara’s cock twitched with want. He settled at your entrance, pushing himself into your slick cunt. 

“Too bad she’s getting pretty boy after the likes of us,” Kisame said, slapping Tobi’s wrist as he, apparently, tapped out, still mysteriously reticent. 

Deidara frowned, trying to enjoy the possessive clench of your cunt. “Sh ―Shut up.”

Your heel knocked into Deidara’s back, causing him to fall forward and into your arms. 

You kissed his nose. “I wanna see you.”

Deidara blinked, then smirked, then fucked into you ― a sharp, quick thrust ― and drank in your gasp.

“Aw, c’mon,” he said. “Can’t still be tight after all that.”

“Yeah,” You breathed against Deidara’s cheek as he started a rhythm, “c’mon, cutie ―”

“Cutie?” 

Deidara forced his fingers into your mouth, followed by two more digits, as his hips rolled into you, skin slapping as you slurped on the digits. 

“Don’t think you can get smart with me, whore.” 

Deidara hissed as you sucked on him from both holes. He hit against your walls, silky and velvety against his overdue cock.

“Got to admit, you’ve got a nice little pussy ― argh,” Deidara bit into his lips as you moaned underneath him. “It really is ― hah ― a piece of art ― hah ― but don’t think you’re getting the best of me ―”

Despite his words, you were getting the best of him. Shit. He had waited too long, and you felt too good. Already, he felt the strain of an oncoming climax. Your breasts bounced and knocked into his chest as he fixed himself hard to you. At a particularly hard thrust, you threw your head back, exposing your pretty neck to him. 

Deidara dove into it, biting at the skin there. Maybe, amongst all the members here, he’d be the one to leave his mark on you …

You raked hard, red lines down his back and Deidara cried out, gritting his teeth. The pleasure married with the pain. So good. So good. 

It would be no good if he came before you did; he would never live it down. Deidara forced a hand down the bridge of your bodies to twirl at your clit.  

“Oh, fuck, mm!” Your legs quivered around him. 

He watched you from the side of his eye. You had the prettiest lips, sweet and plump. 

He felt your clenching, now more involuntary than ever as you cried out. He muffled the sound with a kiss to your abused lips. The squeeze of you was enough to topple him over the edge. Stars and colors swam over his lids as he squeezed his eyes shut, sucking your soul from your lips as orgasms ravaged your body and his ―

A hand dragged him off of you. His cock sprung from your cunt to spray the inside of your thighs with his spent. 

“What the fuck ―?”

“Didn’t think I had to say it,” Kakuzu said, dragging him to the side of the bed. “But: not inside, you idiot.” 

“He really is the youngest of us all,” Hidan teased.

Deidara growled as Kakuzu stared at your cunt, clearly tempted. Deidara stood, ready to fight ―

“Enough.” 

Pain came forward, fully nude. The others parted for him. You sat on the bed, patiently waiting for him, your eyes following him with a reverent dreaminess.

Pain idly wiped away Deidara’s spent with the tail of a sheet, unfazed by it all. “It seems it’s finally my turn.” Again, like no time had passed, he beckoned you on your feet. “Up.”

You did so; standing as he sat. You seemed to read his mind and backed into his legs. Pain scooped you up in his lap, balancing you atop him, inches from his cockhead.

“You’re lovely.” Pain licked the shell of your ear, his chin nestled in your shoulder. He held you above him, hands tucked into the back of your knees. “And your services have been much appreciated tonight. Now, Let me take it from here.”

He sat you on his cock, a hand at your throat to choke you with. 

“Oh!” You jostled as Pain fucked into you from below, your voice muffled with Pain’s hand closing your airways. “O ―Oh!” 

A muffled giggle. “Be careful not to break her, Leader.” Zetsu appeared from the wall. “I’m afraid sometimes you don’t know your own strength.”

“I doubt she would complain,” Pain replied idly, intensely studying your face, firmly fixed in his grip and contorted with pleasure. He slapped his hips into you again and again, the meat of his cock appearing and disappearing, enveloped by your snatch.

The other members congregated to watch the show before them. Deidara ached; his orgasm had been ruined by the fucking ragdoll, and now Pain enjoyed the pussy that had been his only a few moments before. And yet he couldn’t imagine participating unless openly invited by Pain. Deidara gripped his cock, still slick from his time inside of you, and stroked himself to the sight.

Juices mixed around the base of Pain’s cock. You whimpered and moaned, hands clutching his shoulders to keep balance. 

“Oh, gods, Pain, I ― please!”

His other hand toyed with the prominent nipple of your tit, delighted in how it grew under his attention. His balls slapped the fat of your ass with each thrust. You were no lightweight; giving what he gave, syncronizing with his thrusts in no time. Pain huffed. He would not, could not admit to how much he was enjoying this. Some pleasure for his base body, the sweet entrapment of your pussy.

“Your pussy is truly marvelous,” he said, voice like silk. “Is all of this truly for me?”

“Yes!” You cried, not a beat skipped. 

“I think it’s for all of us, Leader,” Zetsu said.

“Hush.”

You fell over Pain, your chest almost crushed to his, dainty hands at his sides. Finally Pain began to display signs of pleasure; closing his many-ringed eyes, his lips parting as you threw yourself down on him and he pulled up to you. The hand previously busy with your tit wove past the dip of your hips. A finger brushed past the cleft of your ass cheek to before it found its target, and prodded ―

“Aah!” You threw your head back, clenching and fluttering around him. “Ah ― Pain!”

You had gotten the best of him; a low grunt escaped Pain as he struck his finger deeper into your asshole.

No one cared for Deidara, for if they did they would see his hand working madly on his cock; his lip sucked under his teeth, ready to bleed. 

“I’m ―” You fell into Pain’s chest, releasing a huff. “I’m gonna ―”

“Go ahead.” Pain’s voice sounded under strain, but still demanding in its gritty hush. “You’ve put on a stunning performance for us tonight. Delight us with one more.”

Pain’s knuckle disappeared into the ring of your ass, the skin of your rear rippling from tight thrusts. With a cry-like whimper, you shuddered and convulsed. Pain’s other hand pressed hard into the small of your back, inadvertently steadying you as you succumbed to his merciless thrusts upward into your spasming cunt.

An near imperceptible “oh” from Pain and a pronounced frown was the only indication he had found his release. All before he lifted you from his cock, coated with your juices, where ropes of his spent escaped and landed to make a mess of your inner thigh.

The sight was so wondrous to distract all other attendants in the room from Dedara finishing with a stifled grunt, ribbons of cum splattering to the floor.

Your forehead rested against Pain’s pectoral. You were lathered in sweat, while Pain, save for some pronounced breathing, had ended the night relatively unscathed.

Hidan clapped slowly as Pain guided you carefully off of him. “Brilliant.” 

“You’re such a prick,” Kakuzu grumbled.

“This was more fun than even I anticipated,” Kisame said, sounding genuinely pleased. “We have to do this again sometime.”

“And we shall.” Pain pet some hair away from your drooping face. Sleep would come soon for you. “We will speak to the madam about our next vis ―” Pain blinked at the floor. “Deidara, clean up after yourself.”

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Force in Nature (2) | Platonic Yandere Trey Clover

Part 1

If Trey could explain what climbing out of the charred skeleton of his own body was like he’d say it was repulsive. Yes, there was no blood to dirty his hands and knees with but the small bits of ash and bone-crunching underneath his weight wasn’t comforting either. The hours spent sitting in the waste of his own remains as he pushed at the iron door of his furnace. In those hours that blurred into days, he’d thought back to the children who’d felt the same pain as he. On this cycle of self-incrimination, he’d thought back to the last faces he’d seen. That unruly red head he’d shooed out the furnace, the crying blue-haired boy in the cage, and the small toddler he’d put to bed minutes before his capture. In the days that agonizingly became weeks all he could think about were the only things that mattered. How he could have achieved his goals differently, revenge, and how hungry he was. He knew humans if they could resurrect from their ashes alone would have died of starvation by the time he’d begun to think coherently again.

But he was not human. 

He was a witch. 

Who died countless times because of something he didn’t need to do. 

Witches didn’t need to eat children. It was a preference. A tradition he continued from his family to maintain his age every 50 years. Children were easy to prey on, and known for their enriching souls. But it truly wasn’t necessary…adults with decent lives would have been just fine and Trey imagined if given the chance again he would have preferred to do that instead. If only because of his burning desire to have a family of his own still present. To think after dying at the hands of a child he thought of making his own he still wished nothing more than to have a life filled with child-rearing. His brain silencing his resentment with defense for the child responsible. He truly must be insane.

With the endless time in the darkness of the oven, Trey effectively strikes this hole within him for romantic attachment. He has had his fair share of partners that he often spared from being an ingredient for his desserts. He never felt the need to actively pursue anyone but if he ever got the chance to adjus this diet that’d had to change.

With no other thing occupying his time Trey only found his only interest to be scheming. Thoughts about what he’d do if he found the children responsible for his entrapment. What he’d do with another chance at life beyond the darkness of the oven. How he’d forget his taught aim for beauty when it’s done nothing but gotten in the way of what he’s always wanted. Thinking as though he’d never get the chance to enact it. His imagination filled his heart with a desire for this reality. But deep down he knew it’d be years before the iron lock would decay with rust enough for him to escape. By then the children he remembered would have moved on and become adults. It was best that his reality be kept with him in the confines of the oven; if only to spare the world of the monster he’d become. 

Creak.

“Hey look this place has an oven too!”

On second thought—the world was filled with monsters what was one more?

______________________________________________________________

A clog shoe bumped into a worn notebook sprawled on the floor. The owner of the clog sighed and bent down to lovingly hold the book. The blue-haired preteen knew exactly who this belonged to, gently collecting the bundle from the floor as he navigated his way over abandoned clothes and toys. Deuce already knew where the owner of the notebook was, looking out the window to see his siblings scampering near the edge of the woods. With their chores done, Ace and (Y/n) would spend the rest of their time enjoying their time together. Playing games and chasing one another was a past time the two of them partake in religiously. 

Deuce was just glad there was no one cruel enough to stop them. 

Not anymore. 

Since the harrowing escape from the child-eating witch, a new option for unruly adults had appeared. And his stepmother was the second lucky candidate. Of course, he and Ace agreed they’d never tell (Y/n) how that happened but the truth of the matter was that they had one parent now. That parent—their father was decent on his own. Between his civic duties, his socialite practices, and his job he was a nice father. Not as present as any of the other single parents in town but Deuce wouldn’t complain. After all they’d been through he was just happy they could still play without the looming dread about what happened. 

On an outing in town–something Deuce found himself doing more now that the woman was gone– he saw that many of the men previously sent to the militia littered the allies. Homeless, injured, and ignored as they mumbled about the horrors of the battle-field. While Deuce wouldn’t say he and his siblings survived a war they certainly could be considered survivors. Some nights he awoke to Ace calling out to him in his sleep. Pleading with the apparition in his nightmares to let his family go. 

It was heartbreaking. 

Deuce wouldn’t delude himself that he was grown up enough to pity his brother. He knew that he wasn’t spared from the effects that experience brought. Even their younger sibling now much older had an anxiety over being left alone. Over a span of two years, they refused to write out the entirety of their journey. Only giving bullet point on their experience. Ace confided in him that he thought it was because of guilt that they didn’t share more. Assuming their experience wasn’t as violent as theirs it’d make sense. But like Ace, Deuce couldn’t bring himself to mad at anyone but the witch themself. 

To think there was a being that kept the shoes and keepsakes from their past victims, forcing his victims to clean the very place those children probably begged before. It was an evil beyond words but it taught them all to be wary of people. Adults mostly. 

Sure, it shocked their father when they refused to go into town with him for the first time since their return.Thankfully their father didn’t think too much about it, in the same way he didn’t think much about the news of his missing wife. For all he knew, the children were happy being at home by themselves. Magically being more behaved on their own than with their step-mother. 

That was fine with Deuce. 

Perfect with Ace.

And what was best for (Y/n).

As long as the three of them stayed together, they’d be better off. Things were different now but that was okay. Because as far as Deuce was concerned they were better off than ever before. 

______________________________________________________________

“Why did he bring out these candles?”

The written question brought the brothers’ attention to their frantic father. Darting around the kitchen with a sweaty brow and dressed in something nicer than his pajamas. It was the question they all were asking. Ace and Deuce scrunched their faces in disgust at the last time they’d seen those dreaded candles out and about. The last time the twins had smelt the burning scent of macadamia nuts and vanilla their father had introduced a young chatty woman who’d turn into the nightmare that plagued their daily life. It eventually did lead to (Y/n) being born but that was beside the point. 

“Is he seriously getting into dating again?” Ace snickered. 

The redhead was already replaying the pranks that bothered his stepmother the most. Prepared to unleash a renewed sense of menace since their grand escape. (Y/n) recognized the look on his face, smiling to themself as they wrote their own plans into their notebook. Looking over their head Ace was already considering what to do being so close to dinner, it would have to be a minor prank. The two watched their father, trip over himself as he struggled to carry the extra chair to their dining table; scampering in silent giggles as they decided on one of their schemes. Deuce didn’t bother to follow, reassuming his role as the innocent bystander drawing the focus off the mischievous duo. Huffing to himself, he entered the kitchen offering to help with getting dinner together. 

“Aw Thank you Deucey! I was hoping you’d come help, you know ever since your mother went missing you’ve been such a big help.”

Deuce smiled as he finished seasoning the food on the stove,“Happy to help!” 

He really was, especially since their father would be cursing their existence by the end of the night. Deuce was aware that by the time a knock was at the door and Ace and (Y/n) returned all smiley, that they were prepared for the night ahead. When their father quickly smoothed back his gelled hair and opened the door revealing the unwitting victim for this evening all the children within that shack felt reasonably threatened.

“Hey Tania, happy you made it!”

“Thanks dear, I’ve been looking forward to it.”

Their latest enemy was a newcomer to the village, a librarian that was looking to settle down. With blocky glasses in front of golden eyes, black hair with a greenish tint, and a slim fitted dress of course the children’s father was taken with her. Far too young for a man his age, this woman made the children’s skin crawl. 

“You didn’t tell me what adorable children you have!”

Their father nervously chuckled, “Aye well they’re so independent they’re more like little adults.” 

Ace shared a look with Deuce, the latter lightly shaking his head vetoeing the chance for a snarky comment. Rolling his eyes he turned to their younger sibling who was already preparing for their first prank. Joining back into the conversation Deuce made sure the adults were occupied. 

“That’s not right. Children should be allowed to be children, it's important they have a childhood.”

The woman woefully tilted her head, making their father fumble with his words.

“Y-y-you’re absolutely right! I just hope they get all of that without their mother. Uhm Bread?”

Ace mimicked throwing up which made both of the children giggle from behind their plates. It earned them a glare from their father who covered that up with passing the plate of bread. Unknowingly setting the stage for their first prank.

The woman’s raised eyebrows indicated she noticed the unfortunate state of the bread before their father did. Lifting a slice all she found was the wet and drooping remains of the bread that everyone seemed to be enjoying. The children hid their smiles by stuffing their faces watching as she examined everyone’s plate and silently cringed at her own. 

“Is something wrong, Taina?”

Completely unaware their father brought her attention back to him. She shook her head bringing back her painted smile.

“No nothing at all.”

Deuce was surprised their previous step-mother was quite loud when they tried that prank; blaming her future husband for barely being able to make bread. They received an earful for that one. Embarrassing their father was off-limits, apparently. But if this woman didn’t mind keeping such things to herself; Deuce figured it’d be better in the long run. With a look to (Y/n), he knew what was next. 

They gathered everyone’s attention with three taps to the table. Once everyone’s eyes were on them they pointed to their cup which was previously filled with milk empty once more. Ace decided to heed their call.

“I’ll go get the pitcher for you (Y/n).”

Excusing himself from the table he made his way to their tiny ice box, grabbing a pitcher filled with the milk he’d squeezed that morning. Usually they’d feel bad if it was their father’s work but he hadn’t touched their cows in months so it wouldn’t be a big deal considering their plan for their next prank.

“Such dutiful children, Mister Diamond you must be proud.”

“That I am. As I said they are so incredibly independent!”

Acting as though he hadn’t heard a thing Ace returned, “Would you like me to pour it for you (Y/n)?”

The little child shook their head and reach their hands for the pitchers handle. When Ace finally pulled away (Y/n)’s hands momentarily held the pitcher before giving to it’s weight. The glass pitcher clashed down to the table spilling the white drink directly onto their guest’s plate and off the table trailing into her lap. There was the added bonus of the milk’s initial splash which coated the woman’s face, making for a hilarious scene to the children at the table. 

“Oh my goodness!”

“Oh Taina I’m so sorry!”

(Y/n) quickly adjusted their handle on the pitcher properly filling their cup and putting it away. Deuce silenced his giggles, offering to clean up. Grabbing a napkin he kept his laughter to himself as the woman voiced her discomfort their father fussing over her awkwardly as he tried to wipe her off. 

“I’m so sorry about them! The children can be so clumsy.”

“It’s…alright. Children who usually do things by themselves happen to learn the hard way.”

“Or in this case the wet way! Am I right?”

Taina stopped smiling as she looked their father with disgust. Looking around he found his children were doing the same. He pulled at his collar as though that would relieve the newly created tension. 

With an awkward cough he attempted to start again,”So is this something you’ve noticed with your own children or was it in a book you read?”

The question seemed to alleviate the atmosphere, everyone going back to cleaning the mess. 

“I have no children of my own. I’m always too busy traveling to have any children of my own but now that I’m settled maybe I’ll change that.”

Their father visibly swooned at that and Ace delivered a firm kick to the older man’s knee. Hiding his grunt of pain with another cough he went back to his seat, resuming his dinner. Everyone was eating once more and the children were more than prepared for their final prank. 

During the commotion of the spilt milk, Ace had swapped the bowl of noodles for something of his own concoction. Having planned for this from the start he waited for Taina to ask for the noodles to which he happily obliged. Their father kept her attention, eyes solely on her as she filled her plate with the dish he felt proudest of. The other children were struggling to hold in their laughter as they watched her mindlessly stab and curl her fork within the specially crafted noodles Ace had made. 

The noodles Ace had provided were from his very own collection of maggots and worms covered in the sauce their father had made–to an untrained eye it looked exactly the same. It seemed as though Taina was discovering this as she took her first bite, stopping any motion to chew as she realized that the noodles were wriggling within her mouth. In frantic realization and a mouth far too full she looked at the red-headed boy who smiled widely at her. Looking at the other children she realized they too were well aware of what she’d put in her mouth and were all eagerly waiting for her grand reaction.

“So what do you think?”

Their father looked at her expectantly, completely oblivious to the organisms pushing at her lips begging to be released. (Y/n) with a breathy giggle they couldn’t delay put their hands over their eyes, almost frightful of the blast that was meant to come. But alas it did not because instead of vomiting or opening her mouth to reveal the horrors inside, she chewed. She chewed, gnashing the creatures within to bits before swallowing heartily, making all the children drop their jaws in shock. 

Taina licked her lips and her teeth for good measure, sending a beaming smile as she took their father’s hand.

“It was delightful!”

______________________________________________________________

From then on Taina was a forced to be reckoned with. Without an utterance to their father about what she’d endured she took on whatever pranks the children had come up with. Dodging bags of manure, somersaulting over spills, and devouring the little creatures Ace relied on to make any other woman squirm. 

It was torture.

Taina had gone from an occasional guest, to one that stayed over night far too quickly. Suddenly taking over the kitchen to cook meals for everyone. Implementing her own traditions where she read to everyone before bed. Demanding the children take tests with her grading their work.

While she wasn’t actively wicked like their last step-mother, her will was no compromise. 

When she demanded their father do something he’d do it, even when he was so exhausted he could barely stand. When their father wished to join the neighborhood watch she refused demanding he prioritize the family and his rest. It was frightening how quickly their father had gone from an active socialite to a man dictated by Taina. 

That wasn’t all, so many things had changed and not just within their home. On one of his last trips to town Deuce noticed how many families were in mourning, apparently looking for their young adult sons and daughters. Ace noted that their kitchen had begun to change, filled with appliances they never would have gotten with their father’s salary. 

It was (Y/n) who offered an answer to all the strange occurrences as of late. One that terrified their brothers to no end but with no other explanation it seemed to be true.

“You’re the witch from the forest. The one that wanted to eat us, right?”

Ace was the one to confront her, cooking in the kitchen with a resolve to confirm their worst fears and face the witch head on. She tilted her head at him, turning from the oven to put her hands on her hips.

“Are you saying you’ve met a witch in the woods?”

Ace growled,”Don’t play dumb with me! I know what you are!”

Her curious smile fell and for a moment Ace thought she’d start to cry but that died when her painted lips curled into a devilish smile. The green tips of her hair seemed to climb to the roots fluttering in waves of magic that made her yellow eyes shine with malice. Her white teeth sharpened exactly the same as the witch who’d forced Ace to organize the shoes of victims from years before. For a second the red-head found himself right back in that basement staring desperately up at the witch who declared that he’d eat his brother in exchange for eating his candy house. 

“Glad we don’t have to lie to each other, anymore.”

The voice that came out of her mouth was exactly the one from the witch in the candy house–sultry, smooth, and a masculine sound. One Ace regretted to say he admired before his brother was threatened. 

“What do you want this time? To get revenge on me!? To eat me?!”

Taina or Trey made a mockery of his anger, jutting their painted lips out in a mock pout. With an offended hand on their chest, they pitched their voice to match Taina’s.

“Me? Never I’m a changed witch! I’m not here to eat you kids…” Trey couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from within slipping back into their original voice. “No I’m here to eat your father.”

Ace growled charging his head into Trey’s stomach attempting to throw punches and scratch at the green haired witch whom held his head at an arms length keeping all his assaults inches away. 

“Hold on. You didn’t let me finish.” With a light push, Ace stumbled into the wall behind him, unprepared for the pain budding from his back. Trey, picking up on his pain, bent down on one knee to continue,”I will eat your father if you all don’t help me get what I want.”

Ace peeled himself from the wall, swatting at the hands that attempted to catch him when he stumbled forward. Shouldering his pain, he pushed on to ask the question that’s been plaguing his mind.

“What do you want?”

Trey’s wide and unsettling smile softened, reminding Ace of when they first met the witch. 

“A family.”

If Ace felt better he would have laughed. Instead he settled to scoff.

“You?! A family?! With the kids you tried to eat?!”

“I didn’t try to eat all of you.”

“You tried to eat my brother!”

“You locked me in an oven!”

“You were going to eat my brother!”

“...Fair.”

Trey sighed sitting down on both knees, in a attempt to level with the boy. Looking into the scared fiery eyes of Ace, he closed his own as he spoke. 

“I just want to try and see what life is like with a family. Once I’ve done that you can put me in an oven once again…just play along with me for a little while. Please?”

Ace floundered a little, those golden eyes for once looked honest, desperate, lonely. He felt like he was loosing his edge, he sent a glance to the hallway where his siblings listened. From the sight he could tell Deuce wasn’t signaling anything in particular, (Y/n) was no different. Their face was stuffed into his twin’s side, once again hiding from the after math bound to come.

It was up to him once again.

Just like it was his job to shove the witch into the oven. 

It was his decision and the witch’s fate.

______________________________________________________________

Trey adored the sunrise. It brought such excitement that the day was starting once again. He also adored waking to an empty bed because it meant that the most beautiful part of his day was to come.

The sounds of small pairs of feet padding against the creaking wood coming already brought a smile to his face. The hushed arguments and demands to ‘shhh’ made Trey pretend to be asleep as he felt the side of the bed dip from multiple angles. Feeling the little hands that opened his arms to curl into his sides and the smaller weight plopping on his stomach. It made Trey irrevocably happy.

“Daddy, are you awake yet?”

It was Deuce. Polite as always. Trey loved that about him.

“Dad’s not awake. If he was awake he would have stopped me from picking my nose just now.”

The other children laughed to themselves. 

That was Ace. Ever the mischievous trickster and the unexpected leader of his siblings. Trey loved him despite his flaws and was more than willing to deal with anyone who’d bother to complain.

There were no words from his third child. His baby. Just the light plat of their hands against his cheeks, eventually becoming curious tugs at his lashes. After successfully lifting one of his lids to see his golden orbs alert and moving, Trey figured the jig was up. 

Closing his arms in he trapped all of his children and held them tight. Perfectly able to deliver a number of kisses on their little heads. Unbothered by the joyful squirming and their protests Trey made sure every one of his children got a barrage of kisses and ‘I love you’s before they were released. He held onto (Y/n) easily cradling them to blow raspberries into their tummy. He already knew they’d need a nap from waking so early.

“Papa wanted us to tell you he’s back from hunting.”

The message Deuce delivered reminded Trey of the concept of hunger. He didn’t feel it much anymore but he was sure his children did. And they couldn’t possibly handle a whole human at their age, so he better get breakfast ready.

“Thank you Deuce.”

Ace jumped up, hopping up and down on the bed emphasizing his words with every jump.

“I–wanna–hunt–!”

Trey reached over to drag him from the edge, saving the kid a world of hurt. 

“Not until you’re older and it’ll probably be different then what your Papa does.”

“But Papa’s taken us hunting before a long long long time ago…at least I think he did."

Deuce innocently chimed tickling (Y/n)’s feet, unknowingly making Trey’s heart heavy. Trey kept a smile on his face as Ace joined Deuce, making (Y/n) let out more silent laughter.

“Oh yeah I think he did  but we were real little I don’t even think (Y/n) was around then!”

“Yeah…Dad were you with us then?”

The eyes turning to Trey put him on the spot, his heart skipping a beat before he answered.

“Of course I was. I’ve always been here.”

Deuce smiled, “That’s what I thought. I don’t think I can remember anything without you Dad!”

Trey quietly mumbled to himself,”A time without me….”

The witch thought about the mother he’d seen in the market place and the infant she paraded around. A babbling baby that only knew to cry out to her in times of stress. Trey never got to experience that. Looking down at (Y/n) who was released from the barrage of tickling to just stay cradled in their father’s arm. Trey smiled to himself.

“My baby!”

Bending down to kiss their forehead, he relished in the incomplete smiling back at him. He did the same to the twins on each side. Trey’s grateful for the magic that let him keep this family and he was grateful it would let him get back all the times he’s missed with his dear family. 

“My babies! Come let’s get started on breakfast! Who’s hungry?”

“Me!”

“Me!”

(Y/n) raised their hand, fighting to bring their hand as high as theirs. An impossible feat at their age but with a bit of magic maybe that won’t be the case next time. 

“My perfect little family and it’s all mine.”