#so having that extra distance is nice

[motleyfam]

Mx motleyfam, why do you have 5 ao3 accounts? What do you do with all of those?? I am desperately curious.

(And i'm guessing they aren't open pseuds, but if i'm wrong, do you feel like sharing what they are?)

I like to keep an ✨ air of mystery ✨

[lemememeringue]

struggling to process today's session. I am not having a good brain day and it's deeply frustrating to Speak Wrong

[elixrr]

He trusts you. Over the course of your friendship, he built an unforgettable bond with you, one that was meant to last forever– and, really, it could've. It should've, he's not gullible, nor is he naive. He hardly trusts anybody, so you're a rare case— perhaps you're his final and lucky case where he can have somebody else sit with them, shoulder to shoulder, and no mask would have to be up. You're his best friend; you're his lover. You're the shoulder he can lean on, sleep on, lay on, cry on, and that's something that he hasn't had for several years.

Towards the start of your friendship, he didn't exactly see you as a friend, you were more of an acquaintance than anything. You were almost set to be treated by him the same way that he'd treat anybody else. He kept you at arms length, he kept his distance for a while.

Yet, you began to close that distance. You began to slither past his arm, growing closer to him. You were willing, and that's absolutely why you both should've been a lifetime bond.

But now you're being rushed to the emergency room— a head injury, something severe. You're unconscious, terribly injured from the fall, but you're lucky to be alive. He's lucky to have you alive, but now he waits. He waits, waits, and waits for his only trust, his only other shoulder, his only love, and he hopes that you can wake up soon.

You eventually and successfully did. You were in a coma for about a week, but you've finally opened your eyes. You're awake— you're alive! By the Archons and Aeons, that's all that matters to him.

“W– Where am I?” You mutter, eyes finally fluttering with consciousness. Typical question, probably always asked. He watches the doctors explain everything to you.

He watches your eyes as they flicker from one person to the next. One doctor, another, the last one— then to him. A smile nearly graces his face, but your eyes are taken back to begin the cycle again. That doctor to the next, then to that one doctor, then on him, and rinse and repeat. You glance at him as he stares at you, and it's as if he was just one extra person in the room, just one other doctor— out of uniform, though. As if you were saved by him, too, under his care, but your glances are as distant as they are for the other doctors.

Your gaze is unrecognizable. His is the same as ever.

“Who are... You guys?” You ask. ‘Who are you?’ is and would've been fine as long as you looked at somebody that wasn't him, but he's not gullible; he's not naive, and that's the thing. He immediately realizes that you don't recognize him.

He says your name without thinking.

“Do you...” He hesitates, but pursues. “Do you remember me?”

“No, sorry? Have we met before?” The words are fluent, so you didn't hesitate—

—so you don't remember him.

“Amnesia?” One of the doctors mutters, and that's when he realizes that it's all over for him.

He doesn't have another shoulder. He doesn't have a best friend. He doesn't have a lover.

He doesn't have you anymore.

He looks at you, and you look at him. Your eyes are finally fixed onto each other, but you're so distant, so far away from him now. You're both in the same room, but an unavoidable and terrifying distance is built between you two.

“What's your name, then?” You still ask.

The distance shortens. Are you still willing?

“You seem... really upset that I can't remember you. Maybe if you tell me your name, I can remember you?”

Are you really still willing?

He says his name.

“That's a nice name. Sorry, I can't remember, but I'll try.”

“You're willing?” He blurts.

“Of course.” You half-smile.

A sad grin grows on his face. He still loves you— he can feel it deep down inside. You don't remember him. You probably don't even remember any of those special memories you two created that had made the both of you the duo you were, but a smile still adorns his face regardless. You're alive.

And you're still willing.

And, because of that, your bond could last a lifetime.

[skipper1331]

Secret // Alexia Putellas

| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | extra |

Everybody knew that Alexia was a private person - she only shared the information she wanted to share as she was very selective in her choice of words and very careful about whom she told what.

And even though that facade dropped around her friends and family, she still kept you a secret - she preferred it that way - having you to herself and not having to deal with headlines like 'Alexia Putellas dating her Barcelona teammate.' and the drama that it could cause.

Whenever it was just the two of you she was the sweetest girl, treating you like a princess and being totally in love with you while when other people were around, she kept her distance, acted strictly professional and didn‘t show any signs of affection.

The only person who knew about you was her sister, Alba and she only found out by accident.

-

"mi amor, you‘re so beautiful" the midfielder admired, kissing along your jaw, "I can‘t get enough of you" she found her way down to your neck, completely lost in the feeling of you before a certain spot on your neck caught her attention where she gently created reddish marks.

Just because nobody knew about you, didn’t mean that it would stop Alexia from silently claiming you.

Her fingertips ran along your exposed skin as your shirt had riddled up, leaving the midfielder craving for more.

The Barcelona player continued to mumble sweet nothings, planting some last even sweeter kisses on your neck before she reached up to your lips, kissing them with every ounce of love. Alexia always kissed you like that, letting you know that you caused the butterflies in her stomach.

Tugging on your shirt, she signaled that she wanted it off. Happily obeying, you took it off, her hands now wandering around your bare upper body as she was back kissing you with so much passion and love.

"Ale- do you know what-" both of you froze at the same time, your girlfriend shielding your exposed body as her sister stood in the door frame, "oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!" she covered eyes, rushing out of the room and slamming the door shut.

"mierda!" Ale was off of you in an instant, throwing your shirt back to you.

"I‘m Alba!" the younger Putellas called threw the door, "we haven‘t meet yet. I‘m her sister!"

You chuckled - wrong move as Alexia glared at you, marching out of her bedroom.

"Do you ever knock?!" she said angrily, pulling her sister away, giving you the time you needed.

"I thought you were asleep! You didn‘t open the front door when I knocked" the sister defended herself in their mother tongue.

Alexia huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "so, who‘s she?" Alba asked.

Perfectly timed, you exited the bedroom, walking towards the sisters in the living room, "I’m Y/N" you smiled nicely, offering your hand.

"Alba" she introduced herself once again, returning your smile and shaking your hand.

"She‘s my girlfriend" the midfielder huffed, annoyed that her little sister caught you, "20€ if you don‘t tell anyone about it" the older one said.

She would pay money to keep you a secret? Don‘t get me wrong, you didn‘t want to be public as you loved the privacy both of you had as individuals and together but you did hope for that she would at least tell your friends and family. All you wanted was to hold her hand and not to worry about standing too close to her.

The sparkle in your eyes died down, feeling stings in your heart but nonetheless respecting Alexia‘s wishes.

"I don‘t need your money" Alba stated when she saw the way your face fell, "you could have just said please."

You felt more than rejected in that moment.

"You won‘t tell anybody about this" she ordered this time now, her jaw clenched and voice firm - captains order.

Alba walked towards the door, "I‘m going to the car, mamá is waiting. Hurry up" before she left, only Alexia and you left in her apartment.

"I‘m sorry amor, I forgot that we were having lunch together." the midfielder explained, not knowing nor realizing that her behavior had hurt you as she was just apologizing for the incident of Alba walking in.

"You can stay if you‘d like" she smiled, putting on her shoes.

After she had laced her last shoe, she pulled you in by your hips, kissing you good bye, getting a bit carried as the feeling of your lips locked was addicting.

-

You loved being Alexia‘s girlfriend but you didn‘t like being her secret.

To be honest, it didn‘t bother you at first but after 6 months, you started to think about at least telling your family (officially you hadn‘t even met Alba before) and friends but every time you proposed the idea of it, she got defensive and annoyed, so you didn‘t bring it up again.

After one year, you slowly started to think that maybe she was ashamed of being seen with you, just being with you or of you as her behavior got more and more secretive day by day - she didn‘t even act like your friend in training.

You didn‘t know where it was coming from because whenever you were behind closed doors, she was the most affectionate person who loved to cook for you or just sharing the same air made her heart and brain go love sick. She was indeed very much in love with you yet afraid to show this love outside of either of your apartments.

Sometimes you wished that she would take you out for dinner - it didn‘t have to be fancy at all, McDonalds would be simply enough - you just wanted to experience a date night.

And even though, she made home as romantic as possible, it wasn’t enough anymore. You craved for more.

Sometimes when you saw Ingrid and Mapi openly in love, you felt jealous. You wanted that too.

They were your friends and you were so happy for them as they matched each other perfectly but you couldn’t help but feel envy. You envied what they have, imagining how it would feel like with Alexia - hoping to have that with Alexia, one day.

-

"Do you want to go out tonight? Frido told me about this new restaurant!" you said smiling.

The midfielder looked up from her notebook, pausing the tv as she replayed Chelsea’s matches (the club Barcelona would face in the uwcl semi finals)

"Is it takeout?" she asked.

You shook your head - no. "We can go out" you tried again, flopping next to her on the couch.

"Amor!" she grumbled as all her notes fell to the ground, now not sorted anymore.

"Sorry"

"I‘m preparing for our upcoming matches, you should join me in fact, so you know how Chelsea will play. We can order takeout - you know I don‘t like going out with you" she sorted through her notes, grumbling and huffing at the non existing order. She hadn‘t realized that her words were harsh and in fact rude.

You got the message - she didn’t like going out(side) with you, she had made that very clear.

"I can get you some food from there tomorrow" she added, her voice gentle and the wrinkle between her brows gone as her notes were back in the correct order.

It didn‘t help though, you felt hurt. Was it that bad to be seen with you? You‘re a Barcelona player, her teammate - and friends get food together all the time, so why can‘t you get food together as friends? Nobody would suspect that the two of you were more than friends, right?

"Are you hungry? Do you want me to cook something for you, mi amor?"

Again, you shook your head, scrolling through your phone while you acted tough and unbothered by her comment as she didn‘t even notice how harsh her words had sounded before.

You sent a message in the group chat with Ingrid and Frido, asking if they wanted to try out the restaurant which the Swedish woman had discovered. Both of them agreed within seconds.

-

The two of you laid in bed, Alexia‘s arms wrapped around you as she whispered sweet nothings in your ear. It became a routine for Alexia to lull you to sleep while tracing patterns along your skin. She loved doing so and she loved watching you sleep - you looked at peace.

Something about tonight was different though. Normally, it wouldn’t take long for the captain to soothe you to sleep but after 30 minutes, you still were awake, mind seemingly not finding any rest.

"¿Qué pasa?" she whispered in the dark, gently pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.

"It‘s been over a year, Ale, when will you introduce me as your girlfriend? Or take me out on a date that isn’t in here?" your voice was almost inaudible. You knew it was a sensitive topic for Alexia, the girl always denying your requests on telling someone and shutting you out after the conversation and also avoiding you for the rest of the day. "Amor.. we‘ve talked about this" she said, pulling her hands off your body.

Coldness hit your body while the parts were her hands had rested burnt down.

You turned around, looking at her, the moonlight the only light source "all I’m asking is for some recognition." you admitted, almost pleading for her attention outside of either of your homes.

"But I see you. I see you in training and after training, why is it so important to you that people now? We won‘t have any privacy!" her voice raising slightly.

"Alexia… this has nothing to do with the media. I want to meet your family! Or go on a date and wear very nice clothes. Is that too much to ask for?"

"You‘re right. Lo siento, amor" her hands cupped your cheeks, resting her forehead against yours, "I‘ll try to be better"

-

Over the next few months, Alexia’s home started to become your least favourite place - you felt like you were trapped in a cage.

Nothing had changed.

She loved you behind closed doors while she couldn’t even look at you in training.

Each day that passed, more of your heart broke. Your motivation faded - football was your work and no longer a passion.

And Alexia could tell. Your passes were sloppy and your tackles were harsh.

As soon as you had arrived in her apartment, she began complaining about your attitude.

You were not having it.

You started yelling at each other, rude comments leaving both of your mouths,

"You promised me!" you shouted, all hidden anger and hurt discovering the surface, "you promised me and nothing has changed! I‘m your dirty little secret!" you spat.

"Alba knows about you, isn’t that enough?!"

"You offered her fucking money to keep her mouth shut!"

"What do you want?!"

"I can‘t do this anymore, Alexia. I don’t want to think about whether my girlfriend is ashamed of me or not."

"What are you talking about- amor?"

"I‘m worth more than that."

"Please- give me a chance"

"I did, Ale, more than once" you walked towards the front door, bending down to put on your shoes.

The captain followed, so overwhelmed by what was happening that her persona took some turns, "If you walk out that door, we‘re done!"

your hand was resting on the doorknob, ready to leave.

You looked at her, "Behind that door, we never existed anyway."

And with that being said, you left.

[ellecdc]

Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds

this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶

poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.

“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.

Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.

“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.

“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”

“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.

“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap. 

James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby. 

“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.

“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.

Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”

You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow. 

You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.

Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?

       So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.

He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.

But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.

So, you were outside.

It was nice outside. 

Well, it was nice enough outside. 

You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.

You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore. 

As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.

“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly. 

He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.

You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.

You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.

“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.

“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes. 

“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.

You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”

The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.

Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.

“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.

“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.

“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.

James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.

James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”

“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining. 

“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.

“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.

“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.” 

James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.

Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies. 

Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.

“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”

But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something. 

Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.

With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.

“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched. 

“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.

“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.

Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”

“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.

Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked. 

“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.

You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”

Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.

You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response. 

Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?

Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.

You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.

Except one.

“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response. 

“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled. 

“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”

You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.

But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.

“Are you going to flirt with me?”

One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.

“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.

Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.

You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!

“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”

You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.

“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.” 

These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.

“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.

“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.

“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”

James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”

“James!” Remus scolded. 

“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”

Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.

“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded. 

“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.

“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.

“Patience.” He spat spitefully.

“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.

“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.

If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.

You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.

A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.

Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.

You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late. 

“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.

You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.

“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.

Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.

“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.

The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”

You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.

You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.

Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.

“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.

“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless. 

“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.

“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.

Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.

“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.

You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”

You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.

“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.

And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.

And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all. 

It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.

“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”

He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.

“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.

“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”

The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.

Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.

“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were). 

You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.

“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.

Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”

“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.

“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”

“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips. 

“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.

“It’s not an act.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.

Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”

Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...

“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.

“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.

Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.

Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.

“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.

“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.

“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.

But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.

Yeah...he was hot. 

“Easy.” Remus warned.

“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.

“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.

Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.

“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.

“I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.

“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.  

“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”

“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.

“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.

“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”

“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose. 

You wanted to break his finger.

But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead. 

“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.

“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”

“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself. 

“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.

“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly. 

Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”

“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.

Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.

“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”

And you aren’t sure what did it. 

You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.

But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.

You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.

You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.

Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”

You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully. 

“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial. 

“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.

Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”

“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.

You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.

“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.

“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.

You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”

No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.

“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.

You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.

“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”

“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.

“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.

He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.

“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.

“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes. 

“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”

“It could be.” Remus input.

“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.

“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.

“Me neither.” Remus added.

“I’m n-” James started.

“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”

You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.

“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”

You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.

“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”

Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.

Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Very, very fresh bison calf.

Months and months ago I promised y'all photos of the bison birth I was lucky enough to observe at the Cleveland Zoo last spring. As requested, they'll be under a cut, because unlike this lovely photo from the zoo announcement post, my photos are... goopy.

His name is Tighee, a name which the zoo said is "the name of a Shoshone chief."

We walked up just as things started to get going, and the story is below the cut...

This is Blue, a female bison who arrived at the Cleveland Metroparks Zoo in fall of 2022 already pregnant. When we got to the habitat, there were a ton of people gathered around, and it wasn't quite clear what was going on.

Then we noticed her full udder and the extra pair of feet.

She was dead-center in the (pretty large) habitat, which was nice - though there was a crowd, she had some good distance from everyone for most of it. The calf came pretty quickly, all things considered (something especially helpful when you're holding a heavy camera up on full manual zoom without a tripod). Because she was at a distance, my friend and I spent a bunch of time showing people near us photos on my camera screen so they could get a good view.

I was honestly really surprised at the number of people who asked why the zoo staff weren't in there with her, helping her give birth. So we explained to folk that zoo staff don't normally go in with bison on a normal day because they're so big and dangerous, and that during a birth (a time of potential stress for the whole herd, the rest of whom were off to the side of that habitat) it would be especially risky to do so. But you could see people in the zoo's uniform colors clustered around the fence, keeping a close eye on her.

And then there was a calf! For folk who haven't seen what a whole amniotic sac looks like, I'm including the next couple photos.

This one is still mid-birth, as you can see. The hooves come out first, with the calf's head laying parallel to them.

Blue immediately moves to break the amniotic sac and clear the calf's airways of mucus. Om nom nom.

We have open eyes and an awake baby! The amniotic sac is full of fluid that helps protect the baby while it's in the uterus, which means once it's broken, the baby is goopy. One of mom's first jobs is to lick all of it away to dry the calf off.

A first attempt at using legs!

Nope, being born was too hard and legs don't work yet. Time to rest and recover from the effort of thinking about standing up.

The first inquisitive member of the herd, another young female, comes to check out the newest addition.

More attempts at legs! Getting better but still not coordinated enough yet.

They're starting to help the baby stand up. In a non-captive setting it would be important for him to be able to walk pretty quickly after being born, and he has to stand up to be able to nurse!

Everyone comes to check him out, now.

We have legs! They work! He hadn't quite figured out where to nurse from yet, though.

And that's your bison birth for the day!

[luveline]

heyy! ━ im not sure if you requests currently because its totally fine if you dont.

but how about hot bombshell bau!reader where she looks extra fine today [like its warm and she wears a dress] and spencer cant info dump like he usually does? ━ feel free to add anything to the story!

love your writing and page, <3

ty for requesting ♡ fem!reader

Texas gets hot. Unbearable, suffocating heat, arid air that feels as though it's baking you alive paired with the unforgiving beat of the sun on your shoulders. Sorry, Hotch, but you have to wear a dress. 

It's a little black thing with respectable sleeves and a less respectable hemline. There's no cleavage on show. Honestly, you could wear it to the courthouse if you needed to, and that's what counts. 

"Well, hi, mama," Morgan greets as you drift into the hotel lobby. 

"Unprofessional?" you ask, holding the hem in your two hands and pulling it down a touch. 

"On you? Absolutely." Morgan's wearing his usual attitude, but even he had the sense to wear a light grey shirt. "Where've you been hiding that one?" 

"I'm prepared for anything, Derek, you know that." 

Hotch raises his eyebrows when he sees you. 

"Too much?" you ask cautiously. 

"No. You look nice, Y/N. It's not you I'm thinking about." He suffers in his suit jacket, but you can't imagine he'll wear it much longer. He's a stickler for formality but he's not insane. "Speaking of, where's Reid?" 

"We're here!" JJ assures, leading the rest of your team from the breakfast hall. "We were following the air-conditioning. Hey, nice dress. I wish I packed something cooler." 

"It has to be hitting one ten," Emily whines. 

Spencer follows behind her, not quite looking at you as he begins, "It's an even one hundred farenheit today, it just feels hot because the aridity of the air is…" 

Spencer stares at you, his voice fading thin as the edge of a flower petal. He makes a very gentlemanly and extremely entertaining attempt to restrain himself, but his eyes pitch downward to your thighs, your legs as a whole, pupils dragging and catching on the slopes of them. 

His gaze shoots back to your eyes. "The air?" you ask softly. 

You can feel Hotch's disapproval in the same way you could predict today's heat. Spencer glances at him, and, because he isn't totally socially unable, he steadies himself and says, "You look nice." 

"Spencer!" you cheer, your happiness nearly smothering a mixture of sighs and laughs. "Thank you so much, that's so sweet!" You close the distance between you to clasp his arm gently. "You look nice too. I see you've foregone a sweater in the heat. Have you ever thought about wearing a v-neck shirt like Morgan does? You'd look really good, especially your arms." 

Speechless, Spencer shakes his head. You pat his shoulder as Hotch shepherd's you out of the hotel and into the sunshine, the agony of a land without air-conditioning distracting your audience. With slightly more privacy, you lean into Spencer's side. 

"I know it's not quite right to wear to work but my pencil skirts are all too tight after the last wash. Do you think it's alright?" 

A bead of sweat collects at his hairline. "I think it's fine." 

"Yeah? I just couldn't stand to be hot again like we were yesterday, even my knee caps felt sweaty. If it gets any hotter I'll have to solve the case in my underwear." 

Spencer makes a quiet, strange sound, like a pant or a gasp being choked on. You'd love to say you attribute it to the heat, but you're not that humble. 

"We'd still get the job done, wouldn't we?" you ask. 

"I don't know what to tell you," Spencer says. 

Hotch puts you and Spencer in separate SUVs.

[bychaes]

“i miss u.” ft. enhypen

엔하이픈 OT7 fem reader wc 0.3k genre idol au, established relationship, bullet point fic cw/tw one mention of kissing not proofread ! ( emi's library ) ✩ - synopsis: things that bf!enhypen do in a long-distance relationship while on tour

heeseung.

is the clingy type of bf

counts down the days until he gets to see you again when away from you

not even kidding, he will text you every morning; "__ days until i see y/nnie!"

finds every opportunity to call you and hear your voice

jongseong.

misses you so much 24/7 when on tour

he literally becomes a different and softer person when he misses u

sends you unreleased guitar + vocal covers of your fav songs / love songs

"have u eaten well yet today? i'll make a nice dinner for you when i come back, i promise"

jaeyun

hear me out, jake is the goofy type of bf

sends you daily memes, honestly i think he would do that....

jokingly teases you by sending pictures of your dream destinations

"dw, i'll take u on tour next time :)"

sunghoon

goes live extra much just so he could see your name in the comments

also tries to look extra nice when going live

like, even the fans would be confused because they were getting so many live appearances from him for some reason

"why i'm going on live so much these days? oh, don't worry about it"

seonwoo

the cutie pie sunshine bf

sends selfies with funny filters to you daily during the most random times of the day

snaps loads and loads of photos for you then sends them all

"you see this sky? y/n's probably looking at it too right now back home"

jungwon

the extremely thoughtful bf

buys every single thing he thinks you'd like

all the other member would be flabbergasted at the amount of souvenirs he'd come out from the store with in every city

"y/n likes this, she told me so"

niki

misses you so much that he just has to see you

begs the manager to let him fly back for one single day between concert days just to see you

surprises you on your doorstep and pulls you into a kiss the moment the door opens

"i couldn't wait for a month, you know"

a/n: first work, hope u enjoy >< skz version coming soon

taglist: none atm ! fill out the form to be added

@bychaes. do not plagiarize in any way, shape, or form. likes, reblogs, or comments appreciated!

[euthymiya]

help me forget (until my only memories are you) ft. wriothesley

in which wriothesley is plagued with dreams of his past, tucked away in the quietest corner of the fortress until you find him. a thermos of tea, an ocean view, and a heartfelt conversation later, you both decide your memories only matter when they’re of each other

contains: 2.1k word count ; female reader ; established relationship ; hints at wriothesley’s backstory, including mentions of blood and murder ; nightmares and trauma (wrio) ; reverse comfort ; fluff and (cheesy) banter

“thought i’d find you here,” you say quietly as you walk up to wriothesley—it’s quiet enough that’s it’s almost as if you’re trying not to startle him.

(and yes, it’s a bit of a pointless gesture. you know he can hear your footsteps approaching him for a good distance before you even reach him, but, all things considered, you don’t think a little extra gentleness will hurt him.)

“well, looks like you found me,” he hums, legs spread out before him as he stares through the glass. he’s eyes the ocean, his pupils following the schools of fish and casts of crabs as they swim past the glass tunnel that separates you from the water.

the glass tunnel in the fortress is wriothesley’s favorite spot. for a number of reasons, really—first, the inmates aren’t allowed here without official permission, so he has the area to himself for the most part. second, there’s some sort of sign of life to witness, something breathing and moving apart from the rowdy bunch of prisoners he’s in charge of every day. and third, it’s nice to see colors, something vivid and lively outside of rusted metal and dingy lighting.

wriothesley loves this tunnel. it helps him appreciate his life, his home, when he’s especially regretful he doesn’t get to live up at the surface. that regret doesn’t come very often—he’s happy with the life he’s made for himself and the family he’s grown here, but he’s only human.

sometimes even the warden would like to know what it feels like to wake up under the sun, feeling the rays kiss the skin of his cheeks like a mother does her son, so warm and gentle and endlessly filled with love.

he supposes a mother’s love is as unreachable as the sun for him, a regretful conclusion he’s long come to since the tender age of early teen hood.

you plop down beside him, tucking yourself against his side as you hand him a small thermos, making him quirk a brow up.

“tea,” you explain, “i figured it would help.”

“aren’t you sweet?” he chuckles, unscrewing the top and pouring the warm, freshly brewed tea into the lid as he takes a slow sip. he turns, pressing the rim to your lips, letting you take your own sip before he sighs and wraps an arm around you. “did i wake you?”

“of course,” you huff theatrically, “i was so cold. do you have any idea how cold the fortress gets at night without a big, strong, muscled warden to keep you warm?”

he snorts, eyeing you with an amused glance as you bite back your own grin.

“well, my dear lady, i offer my sincerest apologies. you will never wake up cold again.” he indulges your banter with a tight grin.

wriothesley is good at that—good at pretending his feelings don’t exist, pretending he doesn’t feel them in favor of putting on a brave face. you see through the tiny cracks of his mask, though. you can see the tousled hair and bruised under eyes from his lack of sleep. you can see the sore knuckles of his hands from punching bags. you can see the distant, hazy look in his eyes as he stares off into the never ending sea ahead, not sparing you the usual soft gaze he sends your way.

wriothesley is good at pretending everything is okay. just as good as you are at knowing when it isn’t okay at all.

“i’d rather i don’t wake up alone,” you trace the scar along his chest with a finger, visible from the neckline of the tank top he wears to sleep. he doesn’t say anything, swallowing as he swirls the contents in his makeshift cup, purposefully avoiding your gaze. “wriothesley.”

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles, “i figured i’d let you sleep.”

“you don’t need to apologize,” you furrow your brows, hooking a finger under his chin and gently coaxing him to turn and meet your eyes, “i’m not mad, baby. it’s okay.”

“i know,” is all he says.

“will you talk to me?” your head lays against his chest, grabbing one hand and fiddling with his fingers, lacing them with yours as you compare the size of his rough, rugged palm against yours while his other hand lifts the cup to take a long, slow sip of the tea.

it’s hot against his throat, soothing the raw, dryness that builds.

“don’t i talk to your ear off enough through the day?” he tries to tease, deflecting the topic that you try to breach. but you’re good at following just as he is at running—you bring his knuckles up to your lips as you kiss them one by one, so gentle, so feather like in touch, he can’t help but shiver.

“so you’re tired of talking to me?” you tease back, making his lips twitch fractionally.

“nah,�� he breathes a small laugh, “never tired of you.”

“that’s good to know,” you exhale a relieved breath, still playful and lighthearted as you add, “i thought you were running away from me while i slept.”

“i’d have come back.” his voice is low, barely audible—you hear it anyway, feeling the rumble of his words through the vibrations in his chest. “you kick the blanket off. someone’s gotta tuck you in.”

“well you didn’t come back before i had to come find you,” you point out. “so tell me, what’s on that mind of yours? can’t be nothing if you leave me cold and alone in our bed.”

“just a silly old dream,” he shrugs off, laughing dryly as he says, “nothing a tough warden like me can’t handle.”

“oh yeah?” you press gently, leaning up to kiss his jaw with a delicate, warm press of your lips. it makes him swallow thickly, inhaling a shaky breath as he nods.

“yeah.”

“you don’t have to handle it,” you offer carefully, “not alone, at least. you know that, baby?”

“do i look that troubled?” he smiles weakly, but it drops as soon as your hand cups his cheek, pulling him to lean in until his forehead is pressed against yours and his eyes can’t leave their spot of looking directly at you.

“do you trust me?” you whisper. he nods, unable to speak. “i love you, you know.”

“i know,” he croaks. “i love you too.”

“so then talk to me.” your hand falls from his cheek to his chest, laying right on his heart while your other hand squeezes his as it keeps it in its hold.

so he does. with a shaky sigh, he tells you about them, the things he sees in his sleep.

sometimes, wriothesley has dreams. dreams of his mother brushing back his hair with her fingers as she wakes him for breakfast. dreams of his father patting his back as he throws a ball to one of his brothers. dreams of childlike, gleeful laughter ringing through his ears in a muffled, distant sound before it morphs into pained, horrified screams.

his legs carry him down the hallway of his childhood home, bare feet pounding against the hardwood until finally, he turns to corner into his living room. and there he stands—face to face with himself. one version of him in crumpled pajamas and another in oversized, scuffed up clothes like he’s drifted from street to street. he stares at himself, only he notices he looks older, more distant, more tired.

and then he notices the blood. it’s everywhere—on his hands, splattered on his face, dripped onto his clothes, pooled on the floor.

blood is everywhere. it coats the same floors he ran on, stains the same walls his height was marked against. it dirties every happy memory of this house of his, no longer a home.

w-what have you done? he asks his older self.

the boy—the one with his own face—glares down at him, so angry and betrayed, so unlike his happy self as he mutters, what had to be done.

and then he wakes up. he’s always covered in cold sweat, panting, and shuffled far, far away from your peaceful and beautiful sleeping figure. how can he wake you? how can he disrupt your pure, sweet state to wipe the blood spilt on his hands? how can he ask you to carry the heaviness of his sins when you’re so free and weightless from that darkness that plagues someone like him?

you listen as he spills his heart, quiet and unmoving against his side as your palm never leaves his chest. his eyes follow the movement of the fish outside of the glass while he speaks, and your eyes trace over the new red, angry marks on the back of his hand.

“just thought i’d come down here to clear my head,” he confesses, “you looked like you were tired.”

“i’d have woken you,” you admit, looking up at him. he meets your stare, furrowing his brows in confusion until you add, “if i had a bad dream, i mean. because you’re the only place i feel safe.”

he breathes out a soft chuckle, cheek laying on the crown of your head as he whispers, “it’s ’cause of the muscles, right? years of boxing will do that to a guy.”

“so what i’m gathering is that i have to take up boxing for you?” you grin, nudging him with your shoulder playfully as he bites his bottom lip to fight back his grin, shaking his head at your antics.

“i just don’t want to wake you every other night.”

“i want you to wake me every night if you have to,” you frown, reaching over and giving his forehead a reprimanding flick with your fingers, “it’s what i’m here for. what’s the point of being together if you’re going to be all alone, wriothesley?”

“i’m not alone,” he argues, lifting your joined hands before his warm lips press a lingering kiss to the back of an equally as warm hand. “i have you.”

you blink, staring at him blankly. “you just kissed your own hand, you fool.”

“right,” he nods, flushing a slight shade of pink before he twists his wrist to kiss the proper hand, “it was on purpose. it’s self love and all that good stuff, you know?”

“uh huh,” you lift a brow, snorting as you shake your head. he gives you a sly wink, leaning down to kiss your lips briefly as you shuffle closer against his side. “you know,” you breathe against his lips, “sometimes we dream about our pasts because our minds want to change something about them.”

“oh? i suppose i could think of a thing or two to change about mine. maybe a happy childhood. maybe the ability to trust people. that’d be nice, don’t you think?”

“i would change mine,” you admit, making him stare at you for a moment as he ponders over your words.

“would you now? and what would you change?”

“i’d meet you sooner,” you hum, “we could be like the cute stories, you know? childhood friends turned destined lovers. wouldn’t that be sweet?”

he looks at you quietly for a bit—dazed, awed, slightly bewildered. you couldn’t possibly want to know a guy like him in your youth, he thinks. how utterly foolish. but there’s no denying that unbearable, pressured clench of his heart, right where only you can reach to squeeze.

“of all stories,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “that’s what you want for yourself? childhood friends to lovers with a premeditated homicide convict that reforms a prison in his adulthood?”

“a traumatized homicide convict,” you correct, “that’s the part that gives it nuance, you know?”

“oh, you’re right,” he nods sarcastically, “how silly of me.”

“don’t laugh at me,” you huff, pouting at him as you poke his chest, “i’m serious. i’d meet you sooner if i could.”

“me too,” he murmurs, pecking your lips in a wordless apology. you accept with a soft kiss of your own in return. “i’d have met you way sooner too, sweetheart.”

“maybe you’ll dream it some day,” you wink cheekily.

“let’s hope i do,” he laughs, pulling you to sit between his legs, your back to his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs in content. “you’re the only place too, by the way,” he adds after a few moments, breath tickling the shell of your ear as he whispers the words.

“hmm?” you tilt your head in confusion, gasping when his arms wrap tightly around you, his face burying into your neck as he presses a tickling kiss into your skin.

“where i feel safe.”

“oh,” you breathe, smiling slightly in wonder, “good. then you’ll wake me next time?”

“will it keep you warmer in this cold, unforgiving fortress of ours?”

“oh yes,” you nod, giggling lightly. “very warm.”

he smiles into your skin, replacing the vivid images of blood in his mind with the soft hues of your eyes. “then i suppose i have no choice but to wake you.”

childhood friends to lovers with wrio where reader flips neuvillette off and marches down to the fortress and drags wrio back up to the overworld by the wrist when he’s convicted bc she makes the rules around these parts

jk i love you neuvi my sweet angel dragon

[leikeliscomet]

(Reposting from twitter)

My POV as a Black fan that thinks Dot and Bubble's racism commentary is trash

Rewatched Dot and Bubble and I'm gonna break down from my POV as a Black fan why this episode didn't work for me & why it's an awful racism commentary. Long arse post incoming:

The whole "You should've noticed the cast was all white except for fifteen ha your bias is showing" doesn't work for a show that's been predominantly white for 60+ years. D&B casting has been the default for most of the show so its not abnormal enough to be a racial litmus test. An example is the Matt Smith era The only reoccurring character of colour in s5 (2+ appearances) is Liz 10. Artie n Angie in s7. 0 in s6. RTD's own era isn't fully safe either. For many eps Martha or Mickey are the *only* Black characters. Most POC are side characters or extras.

White fans should be aware of the predominantly white casting of the show but this late in the game feels cheap. Most of the show has gone through 100% white episodes including fan faves and it was never an issue back then bc it was beneficial. This is so hollow. Representing racists as cartoon caricatures SEVERLY underestimates the danger of white supremacy irl. White supremacy is system designed and constructed and rebranded over centuries. It is not accidental. People aren't racist bc they don't know they're racist because they *do* They know the system that oppresses POC, Black people especially, benefits them socially and financially and that is why they participate. Its not stupidity it's intention. That should've been the Finetime core not Lindy goofing around bc the arrows are gone or some shit.

Human Nature showed us racist young people that exercised this power bc they knew this. They may be children but they are still dangerous bc of their views. Martha knew this. The silly tech obsessed gen z angle erases this danger and that of actual gen z white supremacy

Instead of the camp goofy tone we could've gotten a serious focused episode. The slugs and millenial/gen z social media silly distracts from what could've been the main theme of colonisation instead of saving it for 10 mins of exposition at the end & scattering microaggressions. Saving Fifteen's racism scene for a goofy episode was a horrid idea. Spending 30 mins on representing racism as silliness then giving a dramatic dangerous score is the definition of tonal whiplash. Representing his oppressor as a blonde bimbo again does not take this seriously. Fifteen went to 1960s BRITAIN & got through it unscathed. Finetime is a fictional futuristic land but the racism of 1960s Britain was real. If anytime was right it could've been Devil's Chord. Distancing yourself from a panto villain is easy but addressing your history is hard.

The scene itself is incredibly performed so I'll give Ncuti his flowers but what he used this skill for could've been so much more. Having his FIRST SCENE begging to save a racist is disgusting. It isn't Black people's responsibility to show compassion to people that want us dead. Yes the Doctor helps the baddies bc they care. But they're aren't ignorant to prejudice. The liberal anti racism of who is so jarring and why I still think Thin Ice is performative. When white people are angry at injustice it's radical. When it's Black people we're aggressive.

Respectability politics is a tool of white supremacy. That if one pleads and is nice enough they can earn liberation. What would white fans think of Fifteen if he DIDN'T beg Lindy? If your allyship with Black people depends on showing kindness to racists you are NOT an ally.

Next up is Ricky. It was established ALL Finetime citizens have white supremacist views yet Ricky September stans refuse to see him in any negative light. Just like Joan Redfern white dw fans refuse to see racism if a character is likeable. If nice guy Ricky's a racist, then anyone no matter the niceness can be racist too and that's a pill white fans aren't ready to swallow. If racism is systemic and not about individual character, then what's keeping them safe? What happens when YOU are under the microscope.

THIS is why we NEED Black writers in Doctor Who. The nuances, depth and complexity of the Black experience can only be told at it's best by Black creatives and not guessed, assumed or spoken over by white fans and white writers. It's okay to put ego aside and say you don't get it.

"Im white but I loved the Doctor's reaction" "I'm white and i thought the racism commentary was great" "I'm white but i-" Yet again, we have to sit through another round of white and non Black fans of colour dictating Black representation for us. I'm so fucking tired man. AGAIN IM YELLING FROM MY HILLTOP TO WATCH SHOWS BY BLACK WRITERS. Almost EVERY single theme in Dot and Bubble and frankly most of the show has been done WAY better in other media. RTD is not the authority on Black stories. We are. Always have been and always will.

Tl;dr Dot and Bubble is an unserious and tacky racism commentary. It's core message is drowned by more RTD Who camp. Don't tell me this episode was good at representating my own experience. It wasn't. S15 having Black writers isn't a need it's a must. Goodbye.

Reblog this version pls

[seeingivy]

3:45 am

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

an: I can't find the request, but someone asked for a sukuna version of the 3:45 am chapter of roommate eren! here it is <3

“why do you have such a shit face?” 

you look up from your computer to find sukuna lingering by the door – fidgeting with the buttons of his collar and the end of his tie – as he spares you an irritated glance. it’s one that you return right back, before hunching back over the table and focusing back in on the lab report you were writing. 

“i’m talking to you.” 

sukuna shuffles over to your side, before crouching down till your faces are side by side, the breaths coming out of his nose tickling the bare skin on your shoulder. 

“i have such a shit face because i looked at you.” you mumble. 

sukuna sucks in a breath, almost like he’s trying hard to conceal his laughter, before he leans closer, leaning his chin on your collarbone. the proximity makes it hard to ignore the sweet smell of his shampoo, which only gets worse when it’s accompanied by the sharp scent of his cologne. 

“is that any way…to repay my kindness?” sukuna questions. 

you roll your eyes, lightly jolting your shoulder up to get him to stop leaning on you. and he takes the hint just as much, as he draws up the chair at your side and pulls closer to see the molecules that you’re constructing on your computer. 

“you know, when you said you were going to do this favor for me, i wasn’t exactly expecting that you were going to hold it over my head this way.” 

ryomen sukuna was just an acquaintance – who happened to be in the wrong place, at the wrong time – and then he wasn’t. 

it’s because he has a moral compass. or because really, he feels guilty for not telling you earlier – especially when he’s seen other friends of his in the same position as you. so when he found you down on your luck – getting cheated on by your boyfriend, who you lived with, by your best friend of all people – he offered you the extra room that he had in his apartment. 

i’m lots of things, but i’m not a sadist. that’s what he said when you snuck out in the middle of the night, all of your things packed into a box that you subsequently emptied out into the free room that he offered. he had hell to pay from your ex-boyfriend the next day, the two of them jostling it out on the basketball court, before they both got reprimanded by the coach and decided to keep their distance 

sukuna isn’t a bad roommate. he isn’t exactly a good roommate per say either. because the sweet kindness that he offered you wore off around the second day and you realized that really – he was one of the most irritating people that’s every walked the surface of this earth. 

he brought over girls – tons of them. and when you asked him to keep it down, just so you could get some assignments done or study for an exam, he’d make it a point to bring multiple girls over – just to see the irritated expression on your face. 

he’d make up for it of course. because what he lacked in face-forward politeness, he made up for with his quiet gestures. like making you breakfast the morning of said exam – set with a matcha latte that he learned how to make special for you, because you don’t like the taste of coffee. or whenever he found you crying, he’d always let you rant it out – but not without giving you a few insults about how you had no standards here and there. 

“i think it’s dumb as fuck that you aren’t going tonight.” sukuna says. 

you slam the enter key on your computer. 

“your opinion has been noted.” you respond. 

“then come.” he grates. 

athletes at the university get to attend a formal at the end of each semester. it’s a nice dinner, accompanied with a horrible DJ, and a weird mix of sentimental speeches.

really, it was actually your idea of fun. only because it always felt nice to go to events like this. it was one of the few excuses you had to use the pretty dresses that you had in your closet, actually blow out your hair to make it look nice, and use the pretty glitters that your sister had given you for your birthday last year. 

and even more than that, it always felt nice to be shown off. because you’d meet tons of people who had heard all about you – the coach, the athletic trainers – who’d all give you sweet comments about how you were far too good for your boyfriend, who would then make some silly comment about how he never knew how he got you to talk to him in the first place. 

sukuna offered to accompany you. and also promised that he’d sneak some kind of contraband in so that the two of you could actually have fun – but it was something you denied. you denied most of the offers that he made that were similar to this, even though he was quite persistent, only because you knew that it wasn’t the right time. 

for better lack of words, you felt like a kicked dog. and you needed time to recover – before you could see your old best friends, or your ex-boyfriend, or really anyone outside the three circle rotation of people that you were able to tolerate. 

“i won’t have fun. and i don’t want to be a downer on the one night that’s supposed to be for you.” you respond. 

“well, you’re always a downer. so it won’t exactly make a difference.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks. that really makes me feel better, sukuna.” 

“i live to serve.” he responds, before bracing his hands against the table and pushing off. 

he spares you one last glance before stopping at the mirror near door, toussling with his hair and the piercings hanging from his ears. it’s a passing thought that you immediately banish – that panging in your chest at the thought of sukuna enjoying the night with a lanky girl on his arm. 

“you know, if you stare for any longer, you’re going to fall in.” you respond. 

“hilarious.” he deadpans. 

“who are you going with? i’ll have to make a phone call and let her know that she’s just going to have to find her own ride.” 

“no one.” 

you feign shock, pressing one of your hands to your chest – and really, trying to hide the secret delight that you’re reveling in. 

“wow. did hell freeze over?” 

“just didn’t feel like it. this type of shit is always kind of boring.” sukuna responds. 

you shrug. 

“i don’t know. i always thought it was kind of fun.” 

sukuna turns around, sparing you one last glance. 

“you know, i do recall that you would stand in the corner and talk to the moms all night. that sounds like my personal nightmare.” 

you smile. 

“well, that’s just because the moms don’t really like you. i however get along with them quite well.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“i’m sure that’s true. i’ll see you, okay? don’t sleep too late.” 

you give him a sly look. 

“worried about me?” 

“no, you just look ugly with eye bags.” 

--

you do not take sukuna’s advice. instead, you finish up your lab report and open a bottle of pink wine – to accompany you in your endeavors to watch ten things i hate about you. 

and it goes considerably well – until you hear a slamming pounding on your door at 3:45 am. you reach for the closest jacket, one of sukuna’s hoodies, before pulling it over your shorts and peeking out of the peephole. 

you swing the door open. 

“right. hi.” 

you pause. 

“megumi, right?” 

“yeah. just bringing sukuna back. he’s plastered.” 

you look down to where he’s gesturing to find sukuna slumped against the wall, offering you a half hearted smile from his bloodied nose. 

“right. well, thanks for bringing him back. what happened to his face?” 

“same as last time.” 

you roll your eyes, as megumi drags sukuna up by the arms. he stumbles in the air, leaning his weight against you, as you shoot megumi one last smile before slamming the door shut. 

the sweet smell of his shampoo and cologne is gone all together – now replaced with the mix of metallic blood, sweat, and the faintest smell of beer. 

“sit down, sukuna. i’m going to clean you up.” you mumble, trying to stabilize him in the air to stand by himself. 

“y/n?” he asks, before stumbling in the air. 

you reach forward, trying to brace his fall as he looks down at you – suddenly somewhat awake as his face breaks out into a small smile. he reaches forward, bringing one of his bloodied knuckles to cup the side of your face. 

“y/n.” he whispers. 

you swallow the block in your throat in your stomach. 

“don’t try to sweet talk me. i’m mad at you.” you respond, dragging him towards the center before leaning him against the kitchen counter. 

you reach down to the bottom of the sink, setting a glass of water aside and pulling out the little box of first aid that you had put together once you got here and put it at his side. you open up the neatly organized compartments, pulling out the gauze and the alcohol wipes, before turning back to him. 

“don’t be mad, princess.” he mumbles. 

you feel your cheeks burn. 

“don’t call me that.” 

“isn’t that what you are? my little brat?” 

you scoff. 

“are you trying to insult me?” you ask, reaching for his left hand first and swiping the area clean. 

“you have no…no idea what i think about you.” 

you reach for the wrappings, tucking them in against the callousness of his hands, as he looks down, locking his fingers in with yours. and then he leans forward, snaking one of his hands around your neck. 

you quickly shuffle yourself out of his embrace, before lightly pushing him back. he seems to take the cue, before you lean forward again, slightly hesitant this time, as you wipe the area around his nose. 

“why’d you fight with him this time?” 

sukuna scrunches his face up – irritated at the mention of the past few hours. 

“nothing he didn’t fucking deserve.” 

“right. last time, he missed a three pointer and you socked him in the face. so let me guess, he was two hours late today and you just got carried away?” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“he was running his mouth.” 

your curiosity has piqued. 

“about?” 

“you.” sukuna slurs. 

you smile. 

“so glad to see you had sound judgment tonight, sukuna.” you respond, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

sukuna leans forward, his lips a little too dangerously close as he rests his hands at the sides of your waist. 

“he brought that stupid bitch with him.” 

“sukuna.” you warn. 

“he brought. that stupid bitch with him. and he had the nerve to stand there and talk shit about you.” sukuna responds. 

you reach for the glass and place it in his hands, offering him a smile. 

“just drink the water to sober up a little bit. it’s late.” 

sukuna gives you a glare, as you let go of the glass, only for him to spill the entirety of it on you with his shaky hands. he barely registers that he did it – and you suppose that it’s really your fault for trusting him to hold the glass on his own – as you swing your arm around his torso and lead him towards his room. 

he flops onto the bed as you rummage through his drawers, pulling out a pair of pants and shirt for him as you turn back around. 

“sukuna. get up and change and you can sleep all you want.” you coax. 

he responds with an unintelligible noise – further muffled by the fact that he’s face down on the bed – as you reach for one of his arms and pull. he somewhat works with you, sitting up as he wobbles, and reaches for the tie around his neck and tosses it aside. 

his first struggle comes with the buttons. because he can’t seem to coordinate his fingers well enough to push the buttons through the holes – and obviously, with the short temper he has, gives up in all but three seconds. 

“help.” 

you roll your eyes as he stands up, leaning against you as you reach forward, and slowly unbutton down the length of the shirt. 

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” sukuna whispers. 

you ignore the comment as you pull the shirt down the length of his arms – exposing the tattoos that you’ve always wondered about, that peek out of the sleeves of his shirt or neck. you hand him the shirt, which he tosses aside. 

“too hot.” 

“okay, well. just put the pants on and then i’ll leave. i’ll turn around.” you respond. 

you turn around, twisting the rings on your fingers as you wait for him to finish, only to me met what could possibly be your worst nightmare. 

“y/n. wait, fuck. you have to help.” he whines. 

you turn around to look at him, only to find that he’s still wearing his pants. 

“what?” 

“the button. i can’t…” 

you feel your throat dry. 

“sukuna. i can’t…take your pants off for you. just try harder.” 

“just fucking help me.” 

you shake off the nervousness, as you bend down on your knees, trying to squint through the dark light to find the button. except before you can fully do it, sukuna reaches for your biceps and somewhat harshly pulls you up. 

“wh-” 

you look up to find him swallowing hard, before he talks. 

“it’s like you’re trying to make this difficult for me. don’t get on your fucking knees to do it.” sukuna responds. 

“how else am i supposed to see it?” 

sukuna doesn’t respond, as you shake your head and feel down the length of his pants, before you find the button. and surely enough, it’s hard to push but you get it after a second try, and turn around as sukuna switches the pants he’s wearing. 

and you almost make your sweet escape before he tangles his fingers around your wrist and pulls back. his fingers are fast on your waist as he turns you around, somewhat toppling your balance so you’re leaning against his chest – and stuck in his embrace. 

“stay.” he whispers.  

“you are so fucking drunk, sukuna.” 

“stay, please. i don’t want to sleep without you.” 

you shake your head. 

“my hoodie is wet. i have to change.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“are you wearing anything underneath? you know i wouldn’t mind either way.” sukuna whispers. 

“a tank top, but really. i have to go back to –” 

sukuna’s fingers are fast – since he apparently has enough coordination to help you with this – as he pulls it over your head, before setting his hands back around your waist. the way he’s looking down at you, eyes wide, makes you shiver as he leans forward, and presses his fingers against your collarbone. 

“you have a tattoo.” sukuna whispers. 

you laugh. 

“so do you.” 

and it makes your skin shiver, when sukuna snakes his hands underneath your shirt, leaning forward to press his lips against the inked skin on your shoulder, unable to contain your surprise. the tufts of his hair tickle your neck as you lean back, placing your hands on the sides of his face. 

“you’re drunk.” 

sukuna pauses. 

“is that the only reason you’re saying no?” 

you shake your head. 

“go to bed. you don’t even know what you’re fuckking saying right now.” 

“just stay with me.” 

sukuna releases his grasp, instead reaching for both of your hands and squeezing at your fingers. 

“please. don’t leave me alone.” 

“okay, okay. let’s just go sleep. we’ll talk in the morning.” 

--

you wake up to the most haunting sight known to man – sukuna hovering over you. 

“jesus fuck.” 

sukuna laughs as you press your palms into the sockets of your eyes, pushing as hard as can as you very quickly remember the events of last night – of the shivering feeling of sukuna’s lips on your neck and the horribly embarrassing moan you let out when he did. 

“oh god.” 

you open your eyes to find sukuna still hovering – an almost too excited grin painted on his face – his silver necklace hanging in the air.

“give me permission this time.” sukuna states. 

you widen your eyes. 

“i beg your pardon?” 

sukuna snakes one of his fingers under your waist, using the other to trace the outline of your tattoo again, as he leans closer to you, the distance dangerously close considering the events of last night. 

“give me permission.” sukuna asks. 

“you…” 

sukuna rolls his eyes, before leaning forward and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“if it wasn’t clear, i think about you very often. irritatingly enough, i’m actually very fond of you. so much so, that i turned down that fucking barista from the coffee shop last night and went to that fucking party by myself..” 

“marie?” 

“is that her name?” sukuna asks. 

you bite down on your cheek. 

“i also gave someone a beating for you and got suspended from playing for two weeks, so just give me fucking permission now.” 

“you got what?” 

sukuna leans down, resting his chin against your bicep, as he eyes you again, before pressing a kiss to the skin. 

“give me permission.” 

“you’ve already kissed me twice.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“cmon. i need to hear it.” 

you shake your head, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that your heart is pounding in your chest as you look down at him, brown eyes peering into yours 

“um. okay? ….yes. or yeah, whatever, i –” 

all you hear is an excited chuckle before his lips are against yours, hands almost rough around your neck as he pulls you up, till your straddling him in his lap, hands secured around his neck. and you can tell that he’s enjoying himself far too much – from the way he smiles into the kiss, before pressing three, four, and five kisses to your cheek. 

you fight the urge to smile at him fully as you lean forward, cupping his face in your hands and eyeing the cut across the bridge of his nose. 

“have i repaid your kindness yet?” you murmur. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning in. 

“no, i think i need a little bit more.”

--

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @timmytimmytucky @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga

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[welcometomyoasis]

Seventeen's reaction to you wearing heatless hair curlers

Synopsis: What would seventeen’s reaction be like when they see you wearing heatless hair curlers. Svt x gn! reader | fluff | 0.64k words | warnings: reader is assumed to have hair long enough to use the curlers | requested by anon A/n: sorry this is so short :( i hope you still like it anon!

⚘ He melts at how adorable you look

Seungcheol, Wonwoo, Minghao, Woozi (Yes even Woozi because he’s a big ol’ softie)

When you step into the room, he immediately melts. How can a human being be so adorable? He’ll do a once over to look at you. With your hair wrapped up in all those curlers, and you wearing your favourite clothes before bed, you look extra fluffy and squishable. He’ll definitely fawn all over you because he thinks you’re just the cutest thing ever. And also because he’s imagining you with your hair curled once the curlers are out. You’re going to look extra pretty. He’ll coo at you and make grabby hands while also patting the seat next to him for you so you can sit down. He’ll pat your head, giggling every single time his hand makes contact with the curlers. There’s this subtle bounce that he likes to see and feel. Be warned though, his seventeen ring might get caught in your curlers!

⚘ He laughs at how funny you look (endearingly of course)

Jeonghan, Joshua, Junhui, Vernon, Dino

He’s a menace so he’s going to laugh at you as soon as you whip out the heatless hair curling tools. Once you put it in your hair though? He’s rolling on the floor, clutching at his stomach and laughing until there are tears coming out of his eyes. Don’t get him wrong, he thinks you’re so adorable, but it’s just that you look so funny. Kind of like a clown wearing a really colourful, balloon hat. He’ll poke and tug at the curlers despite you slapping his hands away lightly. He can’t help it, he’s both amused and curious at how these things work. Like you just put it in your hair and then *magic* the hair stays curled for hours? He’s going to continue annoying you for a while. Don’t worry, he’ll shut up immediately when you threaten to put the curlers in his hair to make him look like a poodle. 

⚘ He screams out of fright at how scary you look

Hoshi, Dokyeom, Mingyu, Seungkwan

What is this monstrosity walking into the room? Your head and your hair looks so big and weird. There’s weird things curled into your hair, and the same weird things are sticking out of your head at the same time. He definitely gets the shock of his life and screams out of fear. Although you give him a pointed look and reassure him that it’s just your curlers, he’s still not convinced that your head isn’t full of snakes. He’s going to stare at you from a distance and poke at your head timidly. He might scream or yelp a couple more times when the curlers bounce back from all the poking. He’ll only calm down when he’s sure that those things that you call curlers are safe. That said, he might still get scared in the middle of the night so be prepared to get woken up to something pulling at your hair frantically while screaming…

⚘ Bonus: Junhui 

After Junhui laughs at you, he would become extremely fascinated with the curlers. Like the sizes of the curlers are all different depending on your hair length? Then, he starts thinking and a cheeky evil grin appears on his face. Next thing you know, he’s grabbing your pet cat and trying to put the curlers in its fur. Somehow your cat just lets him? By the next morning, Junhui is gleefully pulling the curlers out, and you're left with a very fluffy, chubby cat whose fur is all curled nicely. Junhui might even borrow one of kkuma’s bows, making your cat look like a posh, spoiled princess.

taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @treehouse-mouse @vcutparis @heavenfilm

[dulcesiabits]

i’ve become the villain’s lover!

summary: You have the worst luck in the entire world to be transmigrated into a novel as some faceless side character, where the most notorious villains in the story won’t leave you alone. (ft. Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus).

notes: 12k words, scenario, fluff, mentions of violence, reader gets injured once, heavily based on my love of cheesy isekai/reincarnation/villainess manhwa 

All of your problems started with the book your friend lent you.

You didn’t even want to read it at first, but you took the copy because she wouldn’t stop pestering you and spamming you with texts. The title—I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!—was embossed gold, and the cover picture had seven beautiful men lounging around a woman with brown hair, the woman gazing wistfully into the distance. In short, it was so cheesy it sent chills down your back.

You really weren’t going to read it. But that summer night was hot and humid and you had nothing better to do than stare at the television and stir around your half-melted ice cream. So when you saw the book on the edge of the kitchen counter, you thought, why not? and opened it up.

If it was bad, you would stop after a few pages. But the television kept droning on as you read, and your forgotten ice cream was now melted slush in its bowl, and soon you were halfway through the story.

The premise itself was simple enough: the heroine, Hera Winn, was the treasured daughter of a down on his luck baron. He sent her to the city to make her debut, and after a series of mishaps, she ended up running into the crown prince, Malleus Draconia, who fell in love at first sight. However, the crown prince was feared by his subjects, and rumors swirled around about his fearsome power and his family. To make matters worse, six other men fall in love with Hera. The cherry on top? All seven men were notorious villains, feared by people far and wide for their cruelty.

You were still a few chapters away from the ending when your eyes started drooping; it was impossible to keep them open, even though you were dying to text your friend. It was deliciously bad, in an over-the-top and campy way, and you appreciated how self-indulgent the author was. Seriously, why would seven villains even fall for an ordinary person? It was way too contrived.

Whatever. You could call her tomorrow.

You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, you found yourself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. Oh no. No way. This wasn’t what you thought it was, was it?

Conveniently, there was a hand mirror next to you, and when you stared into the frame, the face of a stranger stared back at you.

Your worst fears had come true. You’d transmigrated into I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!

Shit. You were never going to read another book in your life.

Luckily (or unluckily), you’d become some no-name extra. You didn’t even show up in the story, so as long as you kept your head down and stayed away from the main characters and their messy love affairs, you’d have a nice, happy life. 

Hey, maybe you could even use your knowledge of the story to make some good cash. You might as well make the best of whatever had happened to you.

The extra you’d transmigrated as lived alone, and had a decently nice house. When you had the chance to dig around the items in the house, you found out that they didn’t really have any hobbies other than reading and gardening. They also had a job working at the local bakery, judging from their planner, so you wouldn’t be lacking in money for now. You settled around the house, and spent a week or two getting used to your new life.

One night, you were getting ready to prepare dinner when you heard a thunk against your back door. Picking up one of your pans to use as a weapon, you cautiously opened the door only to be greeted with the sight of a man bleeding out on your back porch, his eyes closed and face pale. Oh no. You had to help him-- and then you promptly slammed the door shut once you realized who it was: Riddle Rosehearts, the grand duke. But more importantly, he was one of the villainous love interests in the story, and you really had no interest in getting involved in any of that. But then again-- you would also get in trouble if you let someone so powerful bleed to death on your back porch. So with a tired sigh, you opened the door to figure out how to save Riddle’s life.

When Riddle woke up, he reacted about as well as you expected him to react to his savior. He demanded to know who you were, asking what happened and what you did to him, and his hand was curled to cast some nasty fire spells at you if he deemed you a threat: in short, it was a warm welcome, considering he didn’t immediately start with burning you to a crisp.

After you managed to convince him that you weren’t a threat, he settled back into bed with a groan, and you spent the next few days nursing him back to health. After all, he showed up with a stab wound in his abdomen, and you were surprised he even made it to your door. The first few times he flinched whenever you touched him, but he gradually grew used to your touch. In fact, you realized he unconsciously nuzzled into your hand when you checked his temperature, but you were saving that revelation for a day he particularly annoyed you.

Riddle was not the best patient in the world-- he kept track of his own symptoms and checked on his wounds without your help, and he made a list of very specific herbs he wanted you to get from the apothecary. You suspected he still had trouble trusting your intentions in the first few days. Still, that didn’t stop you from falling asleep by his bedside keeping a watch on him (hm? You’re sure you didn’t have a blanket covering your shoulders before you fell asleep) and feeding him spoonfuls of porridge (partly because you didn’t want to take any chances with his wounds, and partly because you thought it was cute how embarrassed he got).

When Riddle was well enough to stand up on his own, you expected him to leave and go back to his dukedom, so you could also continue on with your life. But then he announced he was going to use your house as a hideout from the dukedom traitors who tried to literally and figuratively stab him in the back. Oh, no way-- but then Riddle added that he’d reward you generously if you cooperated, and you’d never been more than happy to offer him your spare room (or offer for him to keep using it, in this case). Somehow the two of you settled into a familiar routine. You went out to work in the mornings, bringing home leftovers from the bakery that didn’t manage to get sold during the day. Riddle managed the finances and handled any paperwork you gave him. He insisted he couldn’t just sit around waiting for you at home with nothing to do, and, well, he was extremely adept with boring, complicated matters. The two of you also tried to cook and clean together. He was absolutely hopeless at it though, and you had to hide a laugh when he tried to dump salt instead of sugar in your cookies.

He was surprisingly sweet. Maybe it was because he was reliant on your goodwill, but in the story, Riddle was a strict, arrogant ruler who imposed his rules with an iron fist over his subjects. The slightest hint of disobedience would have him personally visiting the offending person and making an example out of them in public... which was what probably led to people rebelling against him and trying to oust him from power. You could see hints of that imperious man show through; when he ordered you to do something, he expected you to do it without hesitation. Whenever you refused or talked back, you could see a vein in his forehead twitch.

Still, he seemed to respect you enough to back down when you stood firm in your decisions. He was easy to tease and easy to fluster, though you hoped that wouldn’t come to bite you in the ass when Riddle went to take back the dukedom. He jumped when you stood too close to him, blushed when you casually placed a hand on his shoulder, and he was always at the door to welcome you home in the evenings. He’d become a lot more fond of you than you ever expected, and you had to admit you had a soft spot for him, too. His eyes lit up when you brought home new pastries for him to try, and you noticed that he’d sometimes watch you gently when you walked around the house, though he looked away when you tried to catch him in the act.

One time, he came downstairs when you were dozing on the couch, and his footsteps woke you up. You waited to see what Riddle would do as you pretended to be asleep, curious as to what he got up to when you weren’t around. What you didn’t expect was for him to pull a blanket over you, muttering about how careless you were as he smoothed it down. His hand lingered near your own, so close you can feel the heat emanating from it, and you heard the couch creak as he bent closer to you, his hair brushing your face... and then he left abruptly, leaving you to wonder what he had been planning on doing.

Your cohabitation came to an end abruptly when Riddle told you that he planned to go back to the dukedom. You sent him off with some provisions and a tart you sneaked from the bakery, but Riddle lingered at the door, his face puckered up as if he was conflicted on something. You were going to tease him for how wrinkled his forehead was when he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, promising that he’d come back for you if everything went well. He ran off before you could give him a response, but you were too open-mouthed to even think of one, anyways.

Several weeks passed, and you were sure Riddle had forgotten you. It was none of your business if things went well for him or not (though you had read in the newspapers that he had miraculously returned and rather brutally dealt with the traitors). You were content to just spend the days peacefully between your house and the bakery. Of course, just when you thought everything was going well, Riddle’s top retainers—Cater, Trey, Ace and Deuce—showed up at your door with a letter from Riddle. They wouldn’t leave until you penned a response, but it took you several minutes to reorient yourself after reading what was basically a confession of love and an invitation to become Riddle’s spouse.

Okay. Okay, you had no idea how on earth this had happened; when had Riddle fallen in love with you? Had all the domestic shenanigans affected him more deeply than you thought? So you failed in your initial plan and had gotten involved with a villain, but you definitely were not going to get involved any farther than this. You liked Riddle more than you expected, but his list of enemies was a mile long, and you were not eager to get involved with any of the political maneuvering he did. Also, marriage seemed like a huge commitment after you had only known him for a few weeks. So you sent him a polite rejection, thinking that would be the end... only for Trey to conveniently be sent to “inspect” your town, or Ace to be waiting for you to walk you home when Riddle was too busy to accompany you himself. Riddle never stepped over any boundaries you set, but it was clear he had not lost an ounce of interest in you.

Still, you enjoyed your peaceful life and you were not in any hurry to change anything, not when you had made friends with a few regular customers and the store owners whose stores you frequented. Everything was seemingly going well until you ventured to the market one day to buy groceries. Unfortunately, just after you finished bargaining for some carrots, you heard some commotion from behind you. A hooded man was being chased by town guards, and passerby were either running out of their way or being mowed down if they were too slow, shopkeepers grumbling as they rearranged their broken wares. Well, that was unfortunate, but it was none of your business! At least it was none of your business until the hooded man ran straight at you and grabbed your arm, pulling you in front of him. He snarled at the guards to back off, or you were going to suffer the consequences. All you could think of were two things: one, your basket of food was now rolling across the cobblestones and you were pissed, and two, you had caught a flash of the man under the hood, and you knew who it was. Leona Kingscholar, the infamous second prince of the neighboring kingdom, and another villainous love interest.

Leona didn’t let you go until you were both far away from the guards, who were reluctant to let an innocent civilian get caught in the mix. When you were far from town, he unceremoniously tossed you aside and told you to scram. Maybe you should have just done what he said and let that be the last of your involvement with him, but god, you were starving and he just sent your dinner rolling across the market roads. So, because you were insane, you decided your best course of action would be to threaten him.

Out of all the love interests, Leona wasn’t the worst to deal with, he was just the most temperamental. Despite his strength and cunning, his indolent nature hindered him from being an asset to his kingdom... or so he led everyone to believe. Due to your knowledge of the story, you knew Leona actually desired the throne and had made numerous schemes and backhand deals in order to get the chance to steal it. No crime was off the table if it meant he got his hands on the one thing he’d always been denied. Well, well, wouldn’t it be a shame if someone who knew all the details of his plans were to leak it to someone, like, say, the local guards? You knew just where to find the evidence to back up your claims, too.

Reluctantly, Leona bought you dinner, and because he’s a prince, you milked his wallet for all it was worth. You didn’t doubt he’d send someone to watch you or potentially assassinate you if he deemed you a big enough risk, but that was okay, because you could count on your new buddy Duke Rosehearts to keep you safe. And you were sure to let Leona know that, too, because who wanted to mess with one of the most influential men in the kingdom? Could Leona really afford to start a diplomatic mess at this point?

That should be that, but of course your life wasn’t that easy. You had no one to blame but yourself for deciding to get involved with Leona. The very next day, you found Leona in your kitchen, casually demanding you make him some breakfast because he was hungry. Since you were such an unprecedented variable in his plans, he was going to be keeping a close eye on you before deciding whether he was going to let you live. Well, if Leona was going to be mooching off of you, the least he could do was pay rent and help with some of the chores.

It wasn’t easy living with him. He was worse than Riddle, because at least Riddle tried to help you once he warmed up to you. Leona expected you to do everything by yourself. Occasionally he would do the dishes once you made enough pointed comments about turning him in, or sweep the floors when you started waving the broom around like it was a deadly weapon. More often than not, he was passed out on the couch when you left for work and still passed out when you came home. He would wake up when you finished making dinner, getting up just in time to eat, which made you suspect he wasn’t as defenseless as he presented himself (and that meant you should probably toss your idea of drawing on his face out the window).

The two of you did not get along whatsoever. Neither of you could go several hours without making some sort of snide remark at each other, and every conversation felt like a battle of its own. Leona often commented that he wasn’t sure whether you were bold or stupid, but it wasn’t often someone tried to challenge him like this. He almost sounded like he enjoyed that fact. Maybe he found you entertaining, but it wasn’t like he was scary to you; you knew too much about the story for that.

Sometimes, he was gone for several days at a time, or came home at odd hours. Somehow, your house had turned into his unofficial hideout. You didn’t know what he was up to, and you didn’t care to find out. At the very least, he started walking you to places when your schedules coincided (something about being careful, because his enemies might have figured out his location? You were not going to ask about that). He would then watch as you bartered for groceries (you tended to get better discounts when he was around, because people were intimidated by his glare), or helped you pick up heavy ingredients for the bakery. Sometimes he would even hold your bags... only after you annoyed him with your loud, dramatic complaints over the weight of them.

After a while, the banter between the two of you turned from biting to something almost affectionate. You couldn’t pinpoint when things started to change, but perhaps living together for so long had softened the both of you up. You didn’t expect him to be nice, but he started to make things a bit easier for you. He gave you nice jewelry to either sell or keep for your personal use. And he started napping on your bed, pulling you in to cuddle him when you complained you needed to sleep for the night and he was in your way. He was a clingy sleeper and kept you in his arms until the morning. When the two of you went out together, he had a habit of reaching for your hand, because Leona claimed you looked like you’d get lost or tricked by some shady salesman otherwise.

And, well, when someone tried to threaten you on an evening walk with Leona, he pounced on them before they could so much as finish raising their knife at you. After Leona had finished, ah, dealing with that person, he turned to you tensely, looking you up and down and raising one hand to touch your cheek so gently you didn’t know what to do other than nod when he asked if you were okay. For the rest of the evening, Leona didn’t let you out of his sight and held you tighter than usual in bed that night.

One day, Ruggie and Jack, his trusted right-hand men, came to take him back to his kingdom for some scheme or another. Much like the first time Leona came over, they were standing in your kitchen when you woke up in the morning (maybe you should teach them how to knock on a door, or invest in stronger locks). Ruggie asked Leona what he planned to do with you, and Leona simply gave you a smirk, one arm possessively pulling you by the waist so you almost fell into his lap. Well, he was much too fond of you to let you go now, so he’d just have to take you back with him to his kingdom.

Your only question was: why? Sure, the two of you had been getting along recently, but you didn’t expect his feelings to take on a more romantic turn. And, sure, you were fond of him, too, but Leona had big plans, and you didn’t want to paint a target on your back. Besides, you weren’t ready to be a part of royalty and deal with all the responsibility that entailed. Leona listened to your reasoning with more grace than you expected... and then, on the spot, decided to conveniently create a hideout in town. He wouldn’t be living in your house anymore, but you were still going to be seeing a lot more of him than you did before. Leona never got rid of his habit of sneaking into your house, either, and sometimes you’d come home and find him napping on your bed. Also, you swore he sent Jack or Ruggie to shadow you whenever you’re out, though they were too smart to let you catch them.

Okay, whatever. So what if you had two villains who wouldn’t leave you alone? You could handle them just fine. Besides, what were the chances you’d get involved with another one? This time, you’d built a fence around your backyard to ward off any dukes in mortal peril, and you spent some extra money to get locks for your windows (though you doubted that would actually stop anyone, not with Ace and Ruggie’s nimble fingers). Also, you were going to keep your head down, and be a good law-abiding citizen, and-- okay, why were two tall men slapping a sign labeled “foreclosure” onto the bakery door? And did the owner just walk out with a man in an elegant suit, who gave you a slimy smile when he noticed you staring? No. No way. It couldn’t be, but it was: it was Azul Ashengrotto, head of the information guild, one of the villainous love interests, and the man who just put you out of a job.

Maybe you offended some powerful deity in your last life, because your luck was downright rotten. You really had no choice but to get involved with Azul this time, because you were not ready to go job-hunting just yet. Who else would be nice enough to give you free food, anyways?

Azul was your friend’s favorite character, and you only vaguely understood why. He was intelligent, handsome, and charming, sure, but he was also two-faced, manipulative and had committed numerous backdoor deals to achieve his position as head of the guild. He was one of the most dangerous men in the world, and someone not to be crossed at all costs. After all, he had eyes and ears all over the place, and was the man to go to if you wanted dirt on anyone. And while he could grant whatever wish you wanted, if you were unable to hold up your end of the deal, then you would end up in pieces at the bottom of the sea.

Underneath all of that, Azul was someone who had clawed his way up from the bottom of the social hierarchy, and would go to any lengths to cover up his past. While you briefly entertained the thought of blackmailing Azul with his secret, you figured it wasn’t worth it when Azul could just order Jade and Floyd, his favorite assistants and bodyguards, to toss you into the sea instead. Unfortunately, you didn’t hold the same leverage over him as you had with Leona. So, that only left you with one real choice: time to figure out why your employer was being put out of business.

Your boss, as it turned out, had signed a contract with Azul. In exchange for a generous loan to start the bakery, your boss was supposed to pay back the loan with a seemingly reasonable interest. Of course, it was actually a predatory deal where the amount of interest being charged was ridiculously high and guaranteed to sink your boss into a never-ending chain of debt. So, what real choice did you have but to try to make a deal with Azul yourself? If worse came to worse, you could probably throw Leona’s influence around, even if it meant Leona would demand some ridiculous fee from you in return.

That was how you found yourself working for Azul as his so-called secretary until you could pay off your boss’s loans. Though he acted generous and kind on the surface, he pushed you hard and expected you to put in overtime without complaint, dangling your precarious situation over your head any time you protested. You acted as the face of the organization, dealing with more normal customers (because, as Azul put it, you didn’t stand out whatsoever and would be perfect for the position) and helping sort through Azul’s less secretive contacts and papers. Eventually, you moved your way up to organizing his schedule, and sometimes he even let you talk with his clients in his place when he was particularly busy.

You couldn’t pin Azul down, but you knew that no matter what, you wouldn’t be able to trust him. You knew the deal you took was shady as hell, liable to blow up in your face at any time, and you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. If you tried to ask him a question that wasn’t directly related to work, he deflected. In the beginning of your time at his guild, the Leech twins would randomly pop in to check on you, watching you work with unnerving stares. Eventually, they got bored enough they would chat with you sometimes.

As loath as you were to admit it, Azul was not a bad boss. Sure, he expected a lot out of you, but if you rose to his expectations, then you were properly rewarded in return. Somewhere down the line, it felt like Azul started being more open with you... or as open as a man could be in his position. He never overworked you, and though his interest in your health started off as a logical investment, at some point, it started to take on a more... personal bent. He ensured you were eating enough (and maybe cooked you a meal himself), and even provided a room in his guild for when you stayed too late to be able to return home safely. He was always trying to convince you to sleep over instead of going back home, too.

You learned to toe the line with Azul, because if you got at least one reaction out of him, you might be closer to figuring him out. You sat on the edge of Azul’s desk as you delivered your reports, and sometimes it felt like he leaned closer to you. You teased and prodded at him verbally, but he always returned your remarks with a genial smile and brushed off your words. In fact, the closest you got to flustering him was when you told him he looked cute, which led to him dropping all the papers in his arms. Really, you wondered why he let you get away with provoking him, because your moves always got bolder the less he reprimanded you.

Sometimes you thought Azul was observing you as much as you were observing him. Out of the corner of your eye, you’d catch him staring at you, but whenever you turned around to check, he’d always be buried in one document or the other, though his ears were bright red. But hey, a great employee perk was that Azul had started inviting you out to dinner at fancy restaurants you’d normally never be able to afford, under the excuse of “observing some potential clients.” He’d even gifted you expensive jewelry, claiming he couldn’t let his employees look unprofessional, but he was always smiling whenever he saw you wearing his necklace around the guild. Floyd and Jade had even thanked you once for making “Azul even more entertaining to be around,” whatever that meant.

And then one afternoon, Jade and Floyd asked you to come to Azul’s office. You wondered if he’d finally grown tired of having you around and wanted to get rid of you (permanently), but instead, all Azul did was hold out the contract you made with him. If he forgave all of the bakery’s debt and annulled the current contract, would you be his lover? Sure, he was planning on using you at first, but now? He didn’t think he wanted to let you go.

There had to be some sort of mistake. Azul had fallen in love with you? It had to be a record to have three villains chasing after you. Sure, you really enjoyed his company (and the great employee benefits he offered), but it didn’t feel right to enter a relationship like this. Wouldn’t it create a weird power imbalance? And again, like with Riddle and Leona, being his lover would make you a highly vulnerable target. When you explained all of this to Azul, he tore up your contract without a second thought and sent you home. You ended up back at your old job, all loans paid off, and things seemingly back to normal. However, Azul had decided to generously sponsor the bakery you worked in. He insisted on stopping by with Floyd and Jade to ensure everything was running smoothly, but all he ended up doing was finding every excuse to talk to you and stick by your side.

At this point, you’d decided to accept your fate. Every time you told yourself you wouldn’t get involved with another villain, the world would just throw one at you as if in mockery. So, fine. Since it was all out of your control, you decided you wouldn’t even worry about it anymore. One day, while you were out in town, you heard excited whispers around the square. Curious, you inquired what was happening from a group of giggly girls, and learned that Kalim Al-Asim, the richest merchant in town, was holding a party. Everyone was invited, and there was going to be free food and entertainment galore! There was no way you were going to pass up on this opportunity, especially since Kalim was one of your favorite characters in the original novel. There was one caveat, though: Jamil Viper, Kalim’s most competent advisor, was another villainous love interest. Still, you had promised yourself you were going to do whatever you wanted, and you weren’t passing up this chance to have some fun.

To call the party lavish would be an understatement. There was a veritable mountain of food, an entire orchestra, and it seemed like everyone in the country was invited. You were in the corner, sipping a drink and taking a break from dancing, when you saw Kalim laughing with some members of the nobility. You smiled at how animated he was... and then you saw it. Someone slipped something into his drink. Before you even knew what you were doing, you sprinted over and knocked the cup out of his hand as a crowd of people stared at you. Well, shit.

Honestly, what were you supposed to do? Let Kalim Al-Asim, your favorite character, die? You’d read the novel, so you knew he survived an attempted assassination at a party, but you hadn’t suspected the incident would take place here and now. You didn’t regret your decision, but you were certain one of those nobles was going to throw you into a dungeon for your disrespectful act. But then Kalim took your hands in his and asked why you did what you did. He looked earnest, and you told him the truth: you saw someone slip something into his drink.

There was an uproar following your announcement. Guards swarmed the floor, and people ran around in confusion, and at least one noble accused you of lying. You thought about escaping in the sudden disarray, because you’d already done whatever you could by telling Kalim what happened. Before you could even take one step, Kalim thrust you into the arms of someone behind you, yelling at them to take care of you while he handled the situation. You turned around... and met the face of Jamil Viper, who looked less than thrilled by Kalim’s words.

In the novel, Jamil was Kalim’s childhood friend, and his family had been a vassal to the Al-Asims since the founding of the kingdom. Though Kalim saw Jamil as his most trusted retainer and loyal friend, Jamil was less than pleased with his lot in life. He would be forced to work in the shadows forever, doing all of the dirty work that kept Kalim safe in the sunlight. You remembered how many fans had loved their complicated dynamic, and how Jamil struggled with his decision to betray Kalim, who was still his childhood friend. Still, it was something you’d rather read about than be caught in the middle of. Right now, Jamil was appraising you, trying to determine your potential value as a piece in his numerous plans. You wondered what he would do if he found you lacking.

Without another word, Jamil dragged you with him as he calmed people down and directed the guards. He was terrifyingly competent, but he kept an iron grip on your wrist the entire time. By the time the commotion died down, Jamil took you to meet Kalim, who was waiting for you in a lavish parlor. As Kalim explained it, you had luckily foiled some assassin’s plans, but now there was the possibility you could be in danger. He earnestly grasped your hands and asked if you’d stay in his manor until they caught whoever did this. It wasn’t like you were going to refuse, but with the way Jamil glared at you, you didn’t think you had a choice in the first place. Kalim may have wanted you to stay out of the goodness of his heart, but it was clear Jamil didn’t trust you at all.

Your life in the Asim manor wasn’t that bad, to be honest. Everyone was generally friendly, even though you were expected to wake up at the crack of dawn to follow Jamil around so he could “keep an eye on you.” You ended up helping him with his assignments, surprisingly enough. There was nothing else to do, the servants wouldn’t let you help out, and you felt an inkling of pity at the mountain of paperwork piled on his desk and the line of people who demanded his attention. Jamil tried to stop you, but it was clear he really did need the help, so he relented. It was a good thing your time with Azul prepared you for assistant work, so you were efficient at organizing papers and managing people, marking down any important meetings or documents that required his immediate attention. You heard more than one servant giggle about how Jamil didn’t let just anyone follow him, so you must be very special (yeah, special because he thought you were connected to the person threatening Kalim’s life).

Still, despite his apparent dislike of you, and the fact he was almost as much of a hardass as Azul, Jamil acknowledged when you did a good job with a hand on your head. He never told you that he appreciated your help, but you got the sense that he did when he told you to take a break or asked a servant to prepare your favorite drink. The two of you really started to grow closer after you saw him paralyzed in the corner of his office one afternoon when you were bringing in some reports. You thought something was wrong... only for Jamil to point at a caterpillar crawling on his desk. You brought it outside on a piece of paper, and Jamil swore you to secrecy on his phobia. After that, you were the one he went to when he needed someone to dispose of any insects flying too close to him. It was honestly pretty cute, and you weren’t above teasing him by pretending there was a bug on his shoulder when Jamil was being overbearing.

Sometimes, you caught him in the kitchen, whipping up meals for Kalim. This way, he explained, Kalim wouldn’t have to use a poison taster. Jamil would offer you a sip of the soup or wipe off a smear of flour that’d gotten on your face. You’d swing your legs as you sat on the counter and watched him work. The two of you chatted idly, and you were always surprised at how easily conversation flowed with him: you got the feeling Jamil never had the opportunity to take off his mask and reveal his meaner, conniving side very often. And, well, maybe you noticed that he laughed when he was with you, more often than he did with anyone else.

Despite your role as his temporary assistant, Jamil never let you attend any of his important meetings. You were then left to hang out with Kalim, who was more than happy to make room for you in his schedule, or to wait for Jamil to finish. Today, Jamil was meeting with a trade partner, so you opted to wait for him, because Kalim was busy entertaining the rest of the guest’s party. Everything had been so quiet, you’d forgotten that someone was targeting both your and Kalim’s lives. It wasn’t until you were waving your hand in greeting at Jamil, who’d just finished his meeting, and you saw a look of genuine fear pass over Jamil’s face as something sharp struck your back, that you realized, oh. This wasn’t just a novel anymore, was it? It was your life, and the last thing you saw before you passed out was Jamil running toward you.

In the infirmary, when you woke up, you realized Jamil was holding your hand tightly, sleeping on a chair next to your bed. Kalim was there too, his face streaked with tears as he whispered that he was glad you were okay. An assassin had shot you with a poisoned arrow, but they had caught him, and now they knew the location of the group who had been attempting to assassinate Kalim. Jamil had carried you in his arms to the infirmary and had refused to leave your side for even a moment. You were safe now, but Kalim had to take care of some more business, so rest up, and he’d come see you again.

When Kalim left and you turned to look at Jamil, you saw that he was awake now... or had he been awake the whole time Kalim was talking? Regardless, Jamil looked at you so tenderly it took your breath away. He asked if you would stay with him forever, so he could protect you and dispose of any fool who tried to hurt you, starting with the assassins who had dared to lay a hand on you.

Honestly, it was a lot to take in after you had just woken up from an attempt on your life. You really had grown to care for Jamil, but you weren’t ready for further near-death experiences, especially when you knew the treasonous thoughts Jamil harbored would put him in danger. And while Jamil may be a villain, he was not a terrible guy. When you refused his offer, he let you go with little fuss. Of course, that was not going to be the last you saw of him, because when had your life ever been easy? The very next morning, you found Jamil casually perusing the bakery’s goods, telling you that Kalim had suddenly become very, very fond of the pastries here, and that Jamil was going to be stopping by daily to pick up Kalim’s orders. He would appreciate it if you helped him with that. The way Jamil phrased it, though, made it sound like more of a date than an official visit.

Fortunately, the next few weeks went by smoothly (if you didn’t include the men that kept vying for your attention with increasingly convoluted plans). You were mostly just healing from your injuries while Riddle, Leona, Azul and Jamil used that as an excuse to visit you and lavish gifts upon you. One day, there was a knock on the bakery door as you were about to close up, and you found a very beautiful man around your age standing outside. His name was Epel, and he wanted to work for room and board. The name struck warning bells in your head. When you took a closer look, you noticed that underneath his worn cloak his clothes looked finely tailored; he was obviously a noble, but why would a noble want a job? When you pressed Epel for answers, he hesitated, before admitting that he’d run away from home, but he wasn’t originally a nobleman, so he wouldn’t be useless at all! And then it hit you all at once: Epel was the heir and protege of Vil Schoenheit, an infamously beautiful marquess, and the fifth villainous love interest. You could turn him away, but you couldn’t say no to his puppy dog eyes and the exhaustion plain on his face, could you? So Epel took the spare room in your house, and you braced yourself for the inevitable encounter with Vil.

A few days passed with no incidents. Epel was a wonderful roommate (far better than Riddle and Leona) as he knew how to cook and clean and did his fair share of chores. It was a bonus, you privately thought, that you had more customers than usual because of Epel’s pretty face. The two of you had become fast friends when one morning, a fancy carriage stopped outside your bakery, and in strode a hooded nobleman and his retainer. One toss of the nobleman’s hood revealed Vil Schoenheit, a scowl on his beautiful face as he stared Epel down. He’d come to take Epel home, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer, even as Epel glared at him right back.

Despite the fact you knew the root of their antagonism, you still never wanted to be dropped right in the middle of it. The tension was so heavy you wanted to make excuses and leap for the break room. Still, it was hard to tear your gaze away from Vil’s face; a written description really couldn’t do justice to the most beautiful man you had ever seen, even though he barely spared you at glance.

It was almost funny that despite his appearance, Vil hadn’t been born into nobility; no, his father married into it, and despite all the gossip and rumors about their common origins (and Vil’s uncanny talent with poisons), he had clawed his way to the top of high society, bringing fame to the Schoenheit name. He had made it... until his seat was stolen by Neige LeBlanche, the new darling of the noble world. One day, while on a trip, Vil had spotted Epel working as a farmhand and, intrigued by the potential he saw in him, he made Epel his heir and protege. Epel was only several years younger than him, and accepted the offer on the condition that Vil would support his family. Epel, in return, was to help Vil overthrow Neige so Vil’s family could regain their previous prestige. It was supposed to be a foolproof plan, but was made impossible by their clashing personalities and stubbornness.

Really, you knew why Vil acted the way he did, but that didn’t mean you were just going to stand there and let him drag away Epel when your friend looked miserable. When you stepped in between the two of them, Vil finally took a look at you. You could see the gears turning in his head as Epel pulled you back and yelled at Vil not to do anything to you. You could hardly believe the words that came out when Vil opened his mouth: perhaps Epel would have an incentive to try harder at his various lessons on the nobility if he had a friend to accompany him in the manor. It sounded like an awful idea to you, but Epel’s eyes lit up immediately. You liked Epel, yeah, but you hadn’t even known him for that long, and you had a social (?) life-- Vil offered to reward you generously for your time and you immediately headed back home to pack.

When you got to the manor, you started to suspect Vil should have added ‘family counselor’ to the description of his initial offer. Most of the time it felt like you were acting as mediator in Epel and Vil’s relationship and trying to get the two to compromise on at least one thing before the manor burst into flames from their heated glares. You’ve had to deal with testy personalities before (getting your friends/suitors/villainous acquaintances not to strangle each other is a feat in and of itself), but whenever Epel gripped your arm and yelled that the two of you were going to run away, Vil would turn his disapproval in your direction, and you could see him considering whenever he should poison you or not.

Your relationship with Vil was... frosty, to say the least. You were only there to serve as motivation for Epel, and outside of that, he didn’t pay you any attention. You barely got to see him because he was so busy with his work. If you needed anything, then you would just have to talk to Rook, Vil’s right hand man and retainer. At least everyone in the manor was under the order to make your stay as comfortable as possible, so Vil was looking out for you in his own way... or he just didn’t want to ruin his reputation by being seen as a horrible host.

Really, you expected to wind up only distant acquaintances with Vil. At least you did until the evening Vil visited you with an envelope in his hand and asked you to accompany him to a party as his partner. Swarms of pesky suitors kept knocking on his door, and he was getting a headache dealing with all of them. So why not play the part of his lover while you stayed in the manor? He’d make sure you were properly compensated for this as well, of course. You had no reason to refuse after that, but the party ended up being a bit of a disaster. You couldn’t keep up with all of the nobles questioning you, and it was only due to Vil’s smooth-talking that you didn’t fall flat on your face. Vil had prepped you on what to say, but a bit of practice was nothing compared to all those judgemental eyes on you.

After that horrible first party, the two of you opted to spend more time getting to know each other in order to make the ruse a success. You ate dinner together every night and would spend at least an hour talking and getting to know each other. Something you hadn’t expected was how attentive Vil was. You only needed to vaguely mention you got cold at night and the next thing you knew there was a roaring fire and piles of fluffy blankets in your room. You didn’t even realize Vil knew anything about you until he had your favorite meals served during dinner, or your favorite flowers planted in the gardens when you went out on walks.

The two of you went around town on so-called dates to really reinforce the deception. You dined on a variety of fine foods you would normally never be able to afford, and Vil seemed to smile at your enthusiasm, even as he scolded you over your table manners. You held onto his arm, and he would point out nobles in the streets and all the pertinent information you should know about them. He was clever, and it was hard not to be swept up in his pace, not when you saw firsthand how hard he worked for his goals. He would gift you with clothing and tell you not to worry over the expense; Vil couldn’t have his so-called lover looking shabby, could he?

It didn’t stop there. When you popped up during Epel’s ballroom dancing lessons, Vil had you dance with him to show Epel how the steps looked, his grip on you secure the whole time. And he never put you in an uncomfortable situation; the second you showed any hesitation to keep mingling with pushy nobles, he left the ballroom early, or led you onto the balcony to catch your breath. When you were cold, he would pull his cloak around you without another word, his gloved hand warming yours. He played the part of lover so well, and looked at you so tenderly, there were times you forgot this was simply fake. When did the distance between the two of you shrink? When did you start enjoying your time together, and when did he start seeking you out during his every spare moment?

One morning, during a stroll in the gardens together, Vil took your hand in his and kissed the back of yours. You were so stunned you almost missed him asking if you wanted to make your engagement official. He hadn’t expected to fall for you this hard, and Epel adored you, so why not become a Schoenheit yourself?

It was funny to you that this was the second time you had been proposed to by a member of the nobility. And from two villains, no less, who hadn’t known you very long in the grand scheme of things. Still, you didn’t think you could handle staying in high society and fighting verbal battles for the rest of your life. When you turned Vil down (THE most eligible bachelor in high society), he only hummed and said he respected your decision. However, you discovered soon after that Vil had bought a vacation home close to your town in an effort to help Epel acclimate to urban life even though there were much bigger towns out there. You found yourself bumping into Vil far too often to be a coincidence, and you wondered if he asked his retainer, Rook, to keep tabs on you. Vil seemed to look more and more beautiful each time you saw him, to the point he might start blinding people if he wasn’t careful.

After your exhausting trip to Vil’s manor, all you wanted to do was rest and catch up with your friends. You had even missed your villainous associates/suitors, weirdly enough. You were sort of friends with them too, right? But that was beside the point. You had no doubt that another villain would stumble onto your path sooner or later. There were only two more you had yet to meet, and you wanted to enjoy what peace you had before the sixth one landed on your doorstep. Well, you should have known better by now than to jinx yourself, because the very next morning, you found a shivering, hooded man being pushed around by some local goons. After you scared them off by yelling for the guards, you went up to the man to see what you could do to help him... only to come face to face with Idia Shroud, magical genius and sixth villainous love interest. Oh, great.

You contemplated leaving Idia to his fate on the streets, but the way he looked so nervous and out of place tugged at your heart. He gave off the impression of a soaking wet cat, and you’d always been fond of animals. Besides, he had ‘easy mark’ written all over him, and despite his magical prowess, you were pretty sure he’d be targeted by another thief before long. So with a sigh, you started cleaning out your spare guest room for him (which had seen far too much use lately). Idia didn’t talk the whole time you walked home with him, and didn’t even give you a thanks when you offered him a mug of hot tea. Still, it didn’t bother you too much, not when you knew his past.

In the novel, Idia was a once in a century genius, born to a long line of talented mages, who’d practiced magic since the founding of the kingdom. It was pretty much guaranteed he would take over the magic tower, the central source of authority for mages all over the country, just like his parents before him. However, the Shrouds were infamous due to a curse on their family: no one was sure who first cast the curse (a god, some whispered), but the Shrouds were cursed with misfortune. Nothing ever went right for them, and they would never be happy. Idia was a prime example of this. His parents kept their distance from him, and Idia’s little brother, Ortho, died in an accident. In his grief, Idia created a homunculus using forbidden magic who looked and acted like Ortho. Ever since the original Ortho’s death, Idia had locked himself up in the tower to conduct research and stew in his grief. Of course, he was still a formidable mage who had no qualms about striking down anyone who got in his way, experimenting with dark magic and blatantly refusing any request unless it struck his interest.

For once, you were frustrated that you hadn’t finished the book before you were transmigrated. If you had, then you would know the solution to Idia’s curse. At any rate, you were certain the way to end the curse had to do with the heroine (wasn’t that how it always went with romance stories?) but... weirdly enough, you hadn’t seen her around anywhere, or even heard word of the crown prince being engaged. Well, you would try to keep an eye out for her, and hope that Hera meeting Idia would do something about his curse.

It didn’t surprise you one ounce that Idia basically holed himself up in your guest room as soon as possible. He refused to talk about what he was doing here, his past, or much of anything at all, for that matter. He only muttered that he would pay you for rent and his share of the food, and then kept the door firmly locked. Sometimes he would slide you some extra money along with a little note of magical ingredients he wanted you to pick up.

Idia wasn’t the worst roommate in the world; the two of you left each other well enough alone. Still, it got a little boring to sit by yourself in the living room when you heard him tinkering with some invention or the other in his room. You ended up sliding little notes to him under the door, sometimes accompanied by a doodle. You knew he read them, but you never got a response back. It became a habit, actually. You would slide a note under his door before work and then be on your way.

But one day, you got a response. You had simply asked what he wanted for dinner before you left for your shift in the morning, and in the evening, there was a reply waiting right outside his door. “Something sweet,” he had written. You smiled, a bit delighted that he finally replied. From then on, the two of you started exchanging notes. It gave you something to look forward to in the evenings; when you got home, there would be a piece of paper waiting for you outside Idia’s door. The notes eventually turned into letters, and it felt like you had a pen pal... even though he was only living several feet away from you.

Idia slowly opened up over the course of your correspondence. He was surprisingly blunt and even a bit smug, though you made sure to tease him in return for every snarky line he wrote. He had run away from home because he didn’t want to take over the family business. He appreciated you letting him stay here, but wasn’t it sort of foolish to house a random stranger in your own home? (You had to reply that wasn’t it foolish of him to just follow you home with no idea of your intentions?)

One day, when you came home, you found no note by his door. You knocked on it worriedly, before you heard Idia’s voice for the first time in ages: “come in.” And so you did. Idia was sitting on his bed, looking down, and began mumbling something so fast you couldn’t hear him. You got the gist of it, though; he had cast some spells on your house in order to fortify its protections. If anyone with ill intentions, like a thief, tried to set foot inside, they would immediately be frozen stiff. And there was now an alarm system in place, and... his voice trailed off, and you told him that you were grateful for what he had done, which caused his hair to flare bright and pink.

After that, though the two of you still passed notes, Idia started venturing outside of his room more often. You could find him on the couch reading when you got home from work, or skulking in the kitchen, tinkering with the appliances which he called “horrendously outdated.” You even started eating dinner together, and it was nice having company, though Idia always retreated back to his room afterwards. You were now allowed to come into his room and examine his makeshift workshop, though you had to give Idia advance warning.

One evening, there was a knock on your door. When you got up to answer it, Idia cowering in the kitchen, you found a little boy on your doorstep. His name was Ortho, and he had come to take Idia home. Idia refused on the spot, though when Ortho looked close to crying and asked if Idia wouldn’t come home because of him, Idia rushed over to hug and comfort him. It was decided that Ortho would stay with the two of you and function as Idia’s assistant. With the arrival of his little brother, Idia admitted his true identity to you. You pretended to be shocked and promised you wouldn’t think of Idia any differently.

Ortho was extremely helpful; he did Idia’s share of the chores, and even knew how to cook, though you refused to let him do too much work. Homunculus or not, he was still ten years old. Idia tended to venture outside of his room more now that Ortho was there, and sometimes the three of you would play games together after dinner. Ortho was adorable... but he also seemed determined to set you up with his big brother. He always found some method to get the two of you alone for extended periods of time, or kept very loudly and obviously talking up all of Idia’s good points.

It was cute, even if it was a little troublesome at times. One of Ortho’s attempts led to the two of you being locked out in the garden. You gave Idia your coat in case he got cold... and then he took your hand in his. He couldn’t even look you in the eye, and started speaking so fast you had to ask him to repeat several of his sentences. Still, what Idia ended up confessing was that he had fallen in love with you, and that he was planning on finding a way to end the curse because he didn’t want something bad to happen to you. Would you be willing to wait for him until then?

Really, what could you do, other than squeeze his hands and tell him not to be a stranger? You would help him however you could! Of course, you were open about the five other men who were very energetically vying for your attention, and the fact you were reluctant to get into a relationship. Idia seemed a bit relieved at that (though you swore you heard him mutter an insult or two about the other villains), and said that was fine. The two of you could sort out your business on your own time. So Idia moved back home with Ortho, though the two of you still kept in constant contact through letters. Sometimes, Idia would teleport himself directly on your doorstep because he got impatient to see you again.

So you had adopted another villain into your little group. However, now you had some time to consider what the hell was going on. Where was the heroine? You had been so distracted by the whirlwind of events around you, you had forgotten the story’s original premise. It was the heroine who was supposed to catch the eyes of all these villains, not you. What happened? She was supposed to be engaged to Malleus Draconia, but you hadn’t heard a single word about the crown prince being engaged. It was too much to think about; maybe you would try to do some research of your own instead of spinning around in circles. You decided to contact Azul for information, who promised to get back to you as soon as he could. One day, while waiting, you realized there was a new hooded customer in your bakery, someone who looked a little lost as he glanced around all the baked goods. You headed over to explain things to him, and as you did, your eyes froze on his. Green, with slit pupils... the only one who had eyes like that was... oh. Oh, no way. This was the final villainous love interest, and the male lead: Malleus Draconia, the crown prince.

What the heck was Malleus doing in your bakery? You racked your brain, and remembered that he had a habit of sneaking out of the castle in the story. It was funny that as soon as you had started to look into the heroine, he appeared in front of you. Maybe this could be a good way to look into where the heroine went. The story had already gone off course because of your presence, you knew that, but it didn’t explain why Hera hadn’t shown up.

Malleus, it turned out, was interested in the various goods you had on sale. His eyes sparkled when you told him it was all freshly baked daily, and he was eager to take the samples you offered him. It was cute how he tried to hand you a sack of gold coins for a loaf of bread, though you politely handed the entire stack back and told him only one would be enough. It made sense that he was out of touch with the world around him, though.

From the novel, you remembered that the Draconia family had founded the current kingdom, and were said to be descendants of a great dragon who once ruled the lands. They were the oldest family and had established most of the nobility, including the Rosehearts household. However, despite their legacy, the Draconias were feared precisely due to the draconic blood in their veins, which made them faster, stronger and longer-living than the average citizen. Malleus had been raised strictly in order to succeed the throne, and he rarely had time to himself. Surrounded by people with ill intentions, and always having to put his kingdom first, it was no wonder he had fallen so hard for Hera in the original story. She was the only one who treated him like a normal person, and you found their relationship surprisingly cute as they navigated the trials of being a couple. Of course, he was still a villain at the end of the day, and would have burned the world down to keep his beloved safe.

When you waved goodbye to Malleus that day, you had not expected that you would find him wandering around the markets the next evening. He looked as lost as ever, and seemed to cheer up when he noticed your presence. As you walked around to look at various goods, Malleus followed you and questioned you on the purpose of each stall. You ended up buying him some street food and a little gargoyle charm he had been eyeing. Before you parted ways for the night, Malleus grabbed your hand, asking if he could see you again. You told him to come to the bakery anytime, and that when you had an off day, you would take him around again.

Somehow, because of that, Malleus Draconia started visiting your bakery every morning, and he would even come to see you on your days off. He was a pleasant companion; the conversation between you two flowed naturally, and his naivete was charming. You would often spend time walking around, chatting idly about the town news, as Malleus drank up your every word. He was intensely curious about the mundane aspects of life in your town, but he was also curious as to your life, too. You found yourself opening up about memories from your original world, even if you were careful to phrase it in such a way that Malleus didn’t realize you were a transmigrator.

On other days, you would take him to town and watch his eyes light up at children’s toys, wandering musicians and even the cats that lazed in alleyways. You would always make sure to sample some new street food with him, which Malleus insisted on paying for (you felt your jaw drop at the mountain of gold he casually carried around on his person. It was lucky he was so strong or he would have been robbed in an instant). The stores the two of you liked perusing the most were antique shops. Malleus would wax poetic on their origins and you would make up silly stories about their past owners, which often made him laugh.

Once, it had started raining on one of your evening walks, so Malleus had to stay the night at your house. As you prepared some spare clothes and towels for him, he unexpectedly drew closer to you, telling you that he had a confession to make. You tensed, afraid that he was going to confess his love to you, as seemed to often happen to you these days... only for Malleus to lower his hood and reveal that he was the crown prince, which made you more than a little embarrassed at your assumption.

On his head, though, grew two pairs of horns. It was a physical reminder of his heritage, and what people tended to stare at whenever he appeared at official events. He had greatly enjoyed your company over these weeks, but he didn’t want your relationship to be founded on a lie. It didn’t feel right to hide such an important fact about himself anymore. You admitted to him that you had sort of figured out who he was from the start, so it wasn’t a big deal. The two of you were friends now, weren’t you?

Well, after that, Malleus started sending carriages to pick you up and take you to the palace. His best knights, Silver and Sebek, always accompanied you (though you swore Sebek threw you dirty looks when Malleus came running to greet you). Malleus insisted on spoiling you, too (his personal advisor, Lilia, whispered that Malleus was simply excited to have a friend to invite home for the first time). He would treat you to entire feasts and show you valuable historical artifacts, and even offered to throw a party in your name-- though you had to stop him before he actually went through with that plan.

He even offered to set up a room for you in the palace, and to give you a noble title if that was what you desired. You’d never have to work a day in your life again (which was tempting, honestly). You almost forgot Malleus was a villain-- at least, you did until you complained about a customer bothering you and he asked if you wanted to make it so that they were never heard from again. You had stumbled your way into his inner circle, and if anyone ever crossed you, he would be sure to deal with them appropriately.

During another one of your visits to Malleus’s palace, you get the sense that something was different. Sebek and Silver were more alert than usual, and even Lilia was throwing you an amused glance every now and then. It wasn’t until you reached the parlor and opened the door to Malleus handing you a bouquet of your favorite flowers that you realized what was going on. Malleus told you that you had become someone unbearably precious to him, and he would do anything to make you smile. Would you do the honor of becoming his spouse, and the next co-ruler of the kingdom?

Well, congratulations, you thought to yourself. Somehow you’d collected the full set of villains from the original novel. It took you a second to get your bearings, and you gave the same spiel to Malleus that you gave to the other villains: you weren’t ready for a relationship, being future royalty was too much pressure, and so on. You practically had it memorized at this point from how often you needed to say it. He accepted it with grace, and told you the offer would always be open to you. Life continued on for you in much the same way as it did before, except now the crown prince would invite you on luxurious outings or show up at your door so the two of you could go on walks around town.

That was it... or so you thought. A few days later, Azul contacted you with a full set of information on Hera Winn. You’d almost forgotten you’d requested him to look into her, what with the crown prince proposing to you and all. As soon as you got the information, you rushed to her location to figure things out.

You found Hera Winn lounging at a cafe, a pile of desserts piled high and several books open on the table before her. When she saw you, however, she got up immediately, tears in her eyes... and leaned in to hug you.

Huh?

Before you could get too confused, though, Hera explained that when she was born, she had memories of her past life, and of reading I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover! She really did not want to follow the plot of the original story and, using her knowledge of it, gained fabulous wealth from various gambling ventures and business investments. She offered you some pastries while she talked, and while your mouth was full, said that she was so, so happy that you had come along and basically caught everyone’s attention. Now she never had to deal with them again. Good luck! Maybe the two of you could reminisce over your old world together sometime, hm?

With that, she left you, and you buried your head in your hands with a groan. You wanted to beg her to come back, but it wasn’t like she could take your spot now, not with all the villains so thoroughly in love with you.

Really, what were you going to do? The villains seemed content to wait for your decision, even if they got into spats with each other here and there. You could choose one of them, you could choose all, or you could choose none: the decision was truly yours. It looked like you were now the main character of I’ve Become the Villain’s Lover!, whether you liked it or not.

[evilminji]

You know one of the purposes of Lining?

Shock Absorption.

If the Zone is the Inter- and EXTRA-Dimensional Lining, connecting, containing, and generally powering all of Multiversal Creation? The Great Primordial Soup? The Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust, from which we came and too which we return?

If the Zone itself is basicly the place between Universe, where your soul goes to get washed down, cleaned up, recharged, and sent out to wherever the next random portal takes it? To BECOME whatever you happen to find? An infinte recycler and Multiversal management?

The great metaphorical Yggdrasil, grown far beyond few branches, into an incomprehensible forest of one?

Well!

That kinda changes things! And also nothing! Because it means that those who remain? Are basicly squatting in the DMV's attic. Have built bunkers, under the country's main power generator. They really SHOULD move along. Granted, there is no one to MAKE them... but like...

That's cause no one thought anyone would NEED too?

Lol. Don't they feel silly? Anyway, I'ma put MY house over-! *wander off to go squat in the rafters*

Yeah, the CONCEPTS are native. But those probably just generate naturally. It's all the Souls constantly flowing through. Lots of background Sentience and Memories and such being washed away into the air. But? Then these lil souls were like "yeah, but if THEY get to stay... me too! D:< " "no, you can-" "ME TOO" and then they stopped listening and did what they wanted.

Good thing we have literally infinte amounts of room.

T...there's so MANY, you guys.

But! Not the point here!

*smacks white board* Realities! The Die too sometimes! And get born! A beautiful process, really. You can find Reality Beads if you know When and Where to look, some times. They, OBVIOUSLY, don't last for very long. Since they are basicly just seed universe. The explosive growth takes them almost immediately out of our range of perception, as they Begin.

Foundations of all Life and such.

But good God are they MAGNIFICENT!

However, sometimes? The REVERSE happens. If you find the area of the Zone your in? Is getting... "wavey" is the best way people describe it. Distorted. Fun house mirror. As though your vision has weird wrinkles that are distorting and stretching your view of things? Get Out. FAST.

If it's only SLIGHT? Barely noticeable? You can grab your Lair. IF, and ONLY IF you are NEARBY! If not? Remember. Things can be replaced. YOU? Can not.

Cause that "wavey"-ness? Is the final stage of Realm Entropy. The universe that portion over the Zone is covering and connected too, is all hollowed out. And about to CAVE IN. You DO NOT want to be there when that happens!

Remember! You see "waves"? Fly for three days!

Get to the edge of the affected area then KEEP GOING for a full three days flight. Warn everyone in you path. We stay safe together, guy. Collapses are NO JOKE. People get... well. Let's just say it's NOT a nice way too go.

Knowing this of course? We should all be SAFE right? Respectful if Awed distance from Reality Seeds, run like he'll if "waves"? We Gucci?

.....Sooooorta.

*flips Whiteboard to other side, to reveal a cartoonishly drawn Supervillian labeled "Asshole"*

Behold! A Terrorist!

It's a charged word. Not used lightly. But THESE fuckers? Oh ho ho! THESE fuckers?! "Ooooh~! Look at MEEEEE! I'm gonna play with FORCES I DONT UNDERSTAAAAAAAND! Destabilize my whole funckin UNIVERSE! Kill countless TRILLIONS OF TRILLIONS! Cause life was bad to me personally and I'm mad about it! Wah wah wah!!" ASSHOLES!

These fuckers? Cause Collapses. Blow Outs. Weird Fucked Up Cancerous Real Growths. You ever seen the Cleaners? No? You don't WANT TOO. They are basically eldritch, deep sea, angler fish looking mother fuckers THE SIZE OF SOLAR SYSTEMS. They travel in SCHOOLS.

BIG ONES.

When Realities collapse, they "fall off" as it were. Detach. And have to get recycled. All the countless impurities of Life eaten way to a blank slate. So it too, can start again. Thus the Fish. But! They ALSO eat anything "problematic".

Like tumors. Cancers. Poisoned, Multiversal Threats. Those quote on quote "God Killers".

Yes. Yes this IS part of why you DONT want to be near a Collapsing Reality.

No I WON'T explain how I know.

I DONT WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

*smack the board with pointer* pay attention.

Jason Todd. Not! An Asshole. Sexy thighs. Fancy lil hair strip. We all miss him. But! He's off living his "no really, I'm totally alive, guys" hot girl summer or whatever. We are going to respect that! But!!! How did that happen? When he was DEFINITELY Hella dead?

Superboy Prime-y Pants. Who IS an ASSHOLE.

Because THAT fucker? PUNCHED HIS REALITY SO HARD IT NEARLY SHATTERED. Oh, no, I'm sorry! He punched SOMEONE ELSE'S reality! Because he is a tantruming MAN CHILD! And NOW? Now, Your Majesty, that WHOLE ASS Reality is more hair line cracks then border walls! One good shove? It'll cave in. Killing every soul inside.

The Cleaners are ALREADY circling.

It needs to be patched. Immediately. But that's not something normal ghosts can DO. The Zone won't LISTEN to us. Nor allocate the energy for it. The Concepts of Healing? We can't even FIND them.

We need help.

Please help them, King Phantom. You're the only one who CAN.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter

[the-faceless-bride]

Hazbin Hotel Dating HC

These are MY personal HC about how I feel each character would be like in a relationship (the good parts). The characters in THIS part are... Alastor, Lucifer, and Husker.

🦌🥩 • Alastor is definitely special when it comes to relationships, he doesn't feel the need to be in a romantic or sexual relationship at all. But he does feel it would be awful to have with you.

🦌🥩 • Alastor doesn't Feel the typical butterflies, the flushed cheeks, or the giddiness one would feel when having a crush or feelings towards someone. But he does know he cares about you more than he does others in hell, it's not the same he feels about Charlie or Nifty or any of his other Gal pals he cares for, it's slightly different. He finds you beautiful, something worth protecting, where as he knows the other gals around him can protect themselves and you can too he chooses to help protect you more than others.

🦌🥩 • Alastor does what any other couple would do, but not for him it's more to please you because he just enjoys doing it. It makes him feel nice in his twisted heart that for once someone didn't shudder away in fear or feel threatened by his closeness. Alastor kisses softly and sweetly, he might not fully get the same feeling you do when he kisses you but he still feels a warmth that he made you happy, he's proud of himself in a way.

🦌🥩 • when it comes to the Sexual part of a relationship Alastor could go without it no problem if you feel or see no need for it either. But on the times he feels like being extra affectionate for you he might indulge you a bit. Now Alastor's body doesn't quite respond to sexual pleasure like the others, most sex normally would be focused on you. Fingering, oral, or him helping you grind on him. Only goes as far as what's comfortable for him at that moment, he doesn't think about what he gets out of the exchange just focuses on your reactions to whatever he tries at that moment, he's content with the job well done.

Now I've talked about this before that for funny inconvenience to Alastor, his deer-like body has heats once in a Blue Moon where his body has a reaction he normally wouldn't. And in my last statement, I said his body does all the reactions but he mentally still doesn't truly feel the need to satisfy his body at all. So he would normally wait it out, but now with you, he does have sex. However, it still isn't about him. Not once does he at all think about his body, how it feels, or what's happening to him. He looks at your reaction and responds to you, he wonders what it feels like for you.

🦌🥩 • overall a solid 8/10, he's a caring and in his way loving partner, a bit different from the traditional partnership. But he chooses to be with you. To be YOUR partner and Alastor is endlessly loyal. He chose you. And he'll die on that hill.

🪱🍎 • Lucifer is cautious about relationships. After what happened with his Ex-wife; betrayal and abandonment aren't something that is easily forgotten.

🪱🍎 • Getting into a relationship with Lucifer he might try and distance himself a little. He doesn't want to be hurt again, and he doesn't want it to seem like he's trying to replace Lillith in Chalie's eyes. He just doesn't want to be the bad guy anymore. But slowly after you show him you aren't going anywhere he'll open up to you. And it's the start of a very sweet and happy relationship.

🪱🍎 • Lucifer is a romantic through and through. And everything about him shows that. The way he looks at you, the dates he plans, the little notes he leaves you, the way he kisses you. He kisses you with passion and longing. He wants you to know that he yearns for you; a fire deep in his soul burns and it burns for you. He holds you like you'll slip away forever if he doesn't convince you to stay with this one kiss. The last he'll ever give you.

🪱🍎 • when it comes to Sex, he is a giver. Oral is something he enjoys doing regularly, and it's for him. If you aren't one to take control he'll be gentle and he'd make sure to check in with you at every point. He's a switch. And if you're ok with being in control he is MORE than happy to let you take the reins. He has very pretty moans and he's one to whimper for you. Give him a leash and collar. He does anything and everything for you, and he does it while looking into your eyes.

🪱🍎 • He's a 10/10 and Charlie is happy to see her dad so happy. Accepts you with open arms.

🍺🃏 • Husk is an interesting character. He hasn't felt love for anything or anyone in a long long time, so your relationship is a slow burn for sure. (I also think a HuskerDust poly situation is also possible, but that's a story for another time)

🍺🃏 • Getting into a relationship with Husk is a little scary for him. He has quite a few skeletons in his closet and he wouldn't want to scare you away or get you into trouble with a few enemies he's made in his time in hell. Let's just say some sinners don't let a grudge go when they find out you cheat a little in poker. But he tries his vest to shield you from it. He... Likes You. And he'd rather you not get beaten and left in the street for him to find.

🍺🃏 • Husk is Romantic in his way, he knows how to comfort you. Sorta? Calling you a loser isn't what normally would cheer you up; but I mean hey, you're losers together right? Husk is also a secret cuddle bug so be prepared to constantly be covered in fur at all times. Never wear white again. Husk is also a smooth kisser and gives quick pecks when he's busy working at the hotel. You always get a taste of whatever concoction he'd made for himself to sip on. But he's a soft and slow kisser behind closed doors, he purrs every time.

🍺🃏 • when it comes to Sex he's more of the dominant type, he likes to give you instructions. He likes the feeling of control, sometimes he's a little tipsy and you're on top, even then he dirty talks you and tells you what to do the whole time. It's always fun for you both. He's very cuddly and affectionate after. He might not know how to love properly but you're helping him learn. Day by day. Better and better.

🍺🃏 • overall a 9/10, he's a grumpy ol' puddy cat. But he's your grumpy old puddy cat. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

That's all folks! Thanks!

[barcaatthemoon]

vacation || jenni hermoso x reader||

i am back with another little fic. this one is smutty. thank you for reading. there's not really a plot to this, just some soft smut.

minors do not interact, 18+

jenni stirred on the hammock beside you. whenever you had laid down and subsquently fallen asleep, jenni had been out in the water with the rest of her teammates. you had snuck away onto the balcony overlooking your private beach area. this resort was nice, and jenni had splurged to make sure that it was the best possible vacation for the two of you.

she had been very clear in communicating to you that after the first couple of days, she would be all yours. a few of her teammates stayed longer than just the weekend, but you didn't mind letting jenni run around and have fun with them. you liked the chance to sit on the balcony tanning or the random shopping trips that jenni would send you on to keep you busy.

"corazon, stay here," jenni mumbled as she pulled you closer against her body. it was then that you realized just how much skin was pressed against your body. you still had your bikini on, but jenni's top had been discarded on her way over towards you.

"i just want to stretch out a little," you told her. jenni huffed, but let you go. no matter how badly she may have wanted you to stay right by her side, jenni never physically held you back. you were always free to make your own decisions, which was how the two of you ended up playing soccer on opposite ends of the world. the distance was difficult, but jenni knew how much you enjoyed helping to push up smaller teams.

you sat up in the hammock to stretch out your arms and shoulders. behind you, jenni's eyes traced the lines of muscle definition in your back. the two of you had known each other for a long time, having played on the same youth teams growing up, and jenni couldn't believe that after all that time, you were finally hers.

"te amo," jenni muttered as she leaned forward to press a kiss to your back. slowly, you could feel jenni sit up behind you. her arms snaked around your waist as her hands fell to your thighs. you knew what was coming, mainly because it had happened every single day since you arrived at the resort.

jenni didn't move her hands until you spread your thighs for her. you could feel her smile against your skin as she pressed her lips against your shoulder. jenni trailed her fingers over your center through your bathing suit bottoms, which did little to nothing as a barrier between your skin and hers. your voice caught in your throat, cut off by a soft moan as jenni started to put a little extra pressure.

"do you like that corazon?" jenni asked you. she knew the answer already, but she liked to watch as your ability to focus melted away. you opened your mouth to tell her how much you liked the way that she was touching you when her fingers finally pushed past the bottoms.

"fuck, jenni," you moaned. jenni was smirking in between the kisses she was placing along your neck. she lifted her head just enough to nip just below your ear. you let out a little squeal and jumped back, placing yourself further onto jenni's lap. this way, it was much easier for jenni push her fingers into your entrance.

"you are so wet. surely it can't just be from this, i've barely touched you. were you thinking about me in your dreams?" jenni asked you. jenni was the girl of your dreams, quite literally. you had spent countless nights dreaming of her, especially since the two of you had been separated. jenni knew that, often teasing you about it on your facetime calls. "answer me, baby."

"yes, you're all i dream about jenni," you replied. your voice was breathy, and each word was a struggle to form. jenni loved hearing you try to speak whenever she had you so worked up. it was somewhat cruel, but you'd take that any day over some stupid showing of strength. jenni was a very dominant lover, but her dominance came with a softness and harmlessness that made you feel safe inside.

"i dream about you too. do you want to know what i dream about?" jenni asked. her fingers grazed over your entrance, spreading some of the wetness that threatened to drip in the space between your bodies.

"yes. yes, please," you breathed out. jenni knew that you weren't necessarily directly answering her question, but she would keep talking. she knew firsthand the things that her voice could do to you. it went beyond simple praises and the occasional teasing degradation. jenni knew how effective it could be to chat you up while she buried her fingers or strap deep inside of you.

"i dream about how perfect it feels to slip my fingers inside of you when you're wet." jenni slid two fingers inside of you with ease before she continued, "you feel so much better than i could ever imagine, always better than i remember. you've got such a greedy little cunt, always taking what i give while you beg for more."

"do you want me to beg?" you asked. jenni shook her head behind you. she placed a soft kiss to the side of your neck, one that felt different than the rest of the kisses. your skin would be marked up so badly that you doubted it'd go away before your next game. your teammates would definitely see it at practice and tease you later, but you didn't mind. there was nothing shameful about having a partner who was madly in love with you, both physically and emotionally.

"not on vacation. here, the both of us get exactly what we want, and i want to feel you cum all over my fingers," jenni cooed. the sound of her voice sent chills down your spine. it wasn't going to take long for you to cum, a fact that jenni knew as she moved her other hand from your hip down to your clit.

"jenni, i'm gonna cum," you warned her. jenni was careful to keep her movements consistent as she felt you clench around her fingers. you came with a small gush and piercing cry that you were sure someone else had to have heard. jenni kept both of her hands between your legs, so your cries of pleasure were free to echo out into the open space.

"that's it, get it out. you did so good for me corazon. i am proud of you." jenni placed a soft kiss against the side of your face after each of her little praises. your body slumped back against hers completely, exhaustion momentarily taking over. jenni carefully withdrew herself and repositioned her hands so that she was holding you. "thank you, corazon. te amo."

"i love you too," you muttered as you turned your head to press a kiss to jenni's cheek. she turned at just the right moment to steal a kiss from your lips, which you were more than happy with.