#UP until the point he gets a romance and then I will crash and burn the character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

synity · 1 month ago

Note

I just had a dream about this and please consider writing about it haha

Woozi (idol//svt woozi) suddenly gets a red string tug while at a concert/event. Y/n is like a fan and it was their first time attending an event. Woozi doesn’t do anything about it at first but he suddenly sees her EVERYWHERE HAHAAHAH u can do whatever u want with it..thank you❤️‍🩹⚡️

RED THREAT

(Lee Jihoon x FemReader)

*Fate, Romance, Slice of Life Soulmate AU*

Y/N’s POV

The screen blinked again.

That same cursed blinking cursor at the top of my Google Doc. The blinking mocked me a reminder that I hadn’t typed a single word in over forty-five minutes. Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because I couldn’t feel my brain anymore. Everything inside me was heavy, like molasses had been poured through my skull and was slowly dripping down into my spine.

It was 3:07 a.m. again. Another night that bled into morning without permission.

My office was technically my apartment, but the line between the two had long disappeared. My desk was littered with empty mugs and sticky notes full of passive-aggressive reminders to eat. I hadn’t touched my paints in a month. My house plants were turning gray. Even the playlist I usually loved filled with SEVENTEEN’s songs that once felt like warm sun through glass had begun to feel distant, like music from another lifetime.

I loved my job. Or… I used to. I worked in design. Logos, branding, pitch decks, ad campaigns clean lines, color psychology, subtle messages. I was good at it too. That’s what made it worse. Because being good meant people kept asking. Deadlines kept piling. And somewhere along the way, being good became more important than being okay.

I blinked again, staring at my laptop. My to-do list had bullet points so long they needed sub-bullets.

Client proposal

Fix formatting

Adjust color scheme

Make it “pop” whatever that means

Call with team lead at 10 a.m.

Email Sophia back

Try not to cry before lunch

That last one had been added half as a joke and half because I wasn’t sure I’d make it otherwise.

I pushed my chair back and stood up. My knees cracked. When did I last move?

My eyes scanned the apartment. It looked like someone had moved out halfway and never came back. The easel near the window stood bare, canvas untouched. My coat still hung on the door from a week ago. The mirror across the room showed a girl in an oversized hoodie with hair shoved into a messy bun and dark circles that looked like shadows under her eyes.

I didn’t recognize her.

I sighed and grabbed my phone. I scrolled without looking, out of habit, not intention. Just numb thumbs moving. Doomscrolling. Nothing new.

Until I paused.

SEVENTEEN WORLD TOUR: SEOUL FINAL NIGHT – TICKET RELEASE (LIMITED QUANTITY)

The header burned like neon into my dry eyes.

I’d been a fan since college. Lee Jihoon Woozi was a name I used to whisper into the night with awe. His songs made me feel understood in a world that often moved too fast. His lyrics reminded me I could still create beauty when I was tired. But concerts were always too far, too expensive, too risky to plan. Until now.

I stared at the post. My finger hovered over the link.

“You need to sleep,” I muttered to myself.

But I didn’t move.

I thought about the endless Zoom meetings, the moments where my chest hurt from holding my breath. I thought about how I hadn’t painted in weeks. I thought about how much I missed... feeling something.

What if I just went?

I blinked again. My heart pounded in my chest.

“Just one night,” I whispered. “You can work around it.”

It felt like madness. Like buying a parachute before checking if the plane had crashed.

But something deep in me something that still had color was whispering: Go. Please, just go.

I bought the ticket before I could change my mind.

The next day, I didn’t tell anyone. I just sent in my work, rescheduled one meeting, and packed a bag.

I took the train to Seoul, sat with my forehead pressed against the window. The city rushed past, buildings like blurs, light and metal and motion. For the first time in months, I didn’t check my emails.

When I arrived, the air felt different. Not freer, not magical. Just… clearer. The kind of air that reminded you you’re still alive.

At the hotel, I let myself take the longest shower of my life. I curled my hair loosely, put on light makeup, wore the SEVENTEEN shirt I bought two years ago and never had a reason to wear.

I still wasn’t sure what I was doing. I felt stupid for running away like this.

But when I looked in the mirror again, there was a flicker of someone I remembered.

I looked… a little more like myself.

And somewhere in Seoul that night, a red thread waited in silence, ready to pull.

I hadn’t realized how loud a concert could be. The bass shook my ribs in time with my heartbeat, the crowd’s cheers layering like crashing waves. It was almost overwhelming almost. But there was a strange comfort in being surrounded by people who felt the same rush of adrenaline and joy. People whose eyes sparkled at the same melody. Whose voices lifted in the same chant.

"SAY THE NAME!"

"SEVENTEEN!"

The stadium roared.

My seat wasn’t too close somewhere in the middle rows. But honestly, it didn’t matter. Even from here, the members looked like stars dipped in light. The screens gave glimpses of their sweat-soaked dedication, the way their eyes scanned the crowd, and how their bodies moved like music was born in their bones.

And then there was him.

Woozi.

Lee Jihoon.

His dark black hair was slicked back just slightly, revealing his forehead. His face was flushed, skin glowing beneath the lights, eyes sharp and focused as he sang his verse with that voice that had once saved me without knowing. A voice that felt like a hug around my tired heart.

Every time the camera zoomed in on him, I found myself breathless. Not in the silly fangirl way I thought I’d grown out of, but something quieter. Something deeper. Like looking at a lighthouse you’ve seen in your dreams.

It had only been two songs, but I already felt myself loosening. The tight, brittle shell I had been dragging around for months was cracking in the best way. I let myself scream, sing, wave my lightstick. For once, I wasn’t the girl behind the screen or the project. I was just a person here, alive, overwhelmed, free.

They started “Don’t Wanna Cry.”

My heart squeezed.

This was the song I played when deadlines piled up, when my breath caught in my chest and I didn’t know why I was crying at 2 a.m. It wasn’t just the lyrics it was how it sounded like someone else knew that same quiet ache.

I didn’t even realize I was crying until I felt it: warm tears rolling down my cheeks.

I laughed softly and wiped them, embarrassed even though no one around me noticed.

Then came the bridge. And for a moment, the stage lights dimmed.

And that’s when it happened.

I looked up just as Woozi’s eyes swept across the crowd—and stopped.

Because for the briefest moment in this world, I swore he looked right at me.

I froze.

He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even doing anything dramatic. He just… paused.

His gaze slowed.

Sharp, aware eyes.

And somehow, my heart knew.

He sees me.

We were so far apart. There was no way he could truly make out my face. I told myself it was just a coincidence. A flicker in the lights. My imagination reaching for fantasy in a place designed for dreams.

But something told me it wasn’t.

Because his stare lingered just a second longer than it should have.

And then he blinked. Just once.

Almost like

Recognition.

My lips parted.

And then the music swelled again, and the moment passed.

But I couldn’t move.

The crowd jumped, lights flashed, chants continued and I stayed frozen, clutching my lightstick like it anchored me to earth.

My chest rose and fell too fast. My ears buzzed. I didn’t understand it. There was no logic here. No reason for my soul to stir like that.

Unless…

Unless there was more to this night than I had expected.

The song ended. The members bowed. Woozi turned away.

But I could still feel it.

Like an invisible thread had tugged at my chest, unspooling from somewhere deep within and reaching across the stage. Wrapping around him. Wrapping around me.

Tying something neither of us could see.

I took a shaky breath and pressed my hand against my heart.

And for the first time in months, I smiled without effort.

Woozi’s POV

I’ve always said the stage feels like a dream.

The lights blur. The voices of thousands melt into one long, echoing ocean of sound. Everything becomes rhythmic: the beat, the steps, the inhale before a note leaves your throat. Time doesn’t pass normally here. You don’t think you just perform. You move. You feel.

But then it happened.

Right in the middle of Don’t Wanna Cry.

I looked into the crowd like I always do. We’re trained to. Engage with the fans. Make them feel seen. Keep your eyes moving, let them believe you're looking just at them. And sometimes you are.

But this time

This time, I stopped.

A flash of a lightstick. A girl with tired eyes. Not the kind of tired that sleep fixes. The kind that goes bone-deep. A sadness that felt hauntingly familiar.

Her gaze was soft, but full of something I couldn’t name. Something real.

It was her.

I didn’t know how I knew that. I just did.

For a moment, the song faded behind me. The crowd fell away. And there was only this stranger whose soul looked like it had lived through the same kind of silence I carry. Who looked like she didn’t expect to be seen.

But I saw her.

And then the tug came.

Not literal not like some ghost hand yanking my shirt but inside. A tug in the center of my chest. Sharp. Sudden. Unignorable.

My brows knit together slightly before I caught myself. I blinked once. I moved on. I had to. There were still verses to sing, cameras trained on me, fans watching.

But the feeling remained.

Even after we left the stage for a quick break, I couldn’t shake it. I tried to distract myself joking with Seungkwan, drinking water, adjusting my in-ears. But my head kept turning toward the crowd, scanning, searching.

I didn’t even know who I was looking for.

Just that I needed to find her again.

Was she really there? Was I making it up?

But no. That look. That feeling. The way my heartbeat stuttered when our eyes met that wasn’t nothing.

I’ve never believed in fate.

I’m a realist. A skeptic. I make music because I trust structure, not signs. I believe in effort, not destiny.

But now?

Now I wasn’t so sure.

I’ve looked out at the crowd a million times. Every night, it’s a sea of lights, signs, and faces all blurring together in flashes of color and sound.

But tonight, it’s different.

Because somewhere in that crowd… she’s still there.

I’m supposed to focus on the stage, on the fans, on the performance. But my eyes keep drifting. Searching. Yearning. For what who I don’t even fully understand.

“Hyung, you okay?” Dino’s voice cuts into the darkness backstage as we get ready for the next set.

I nod, almost too quickly. “Yeah.”

But I’m not.

I’m off tempo. My heart is drumming too fast. My thoughts won’t settle. It’s like I’m being pulled from the inside as if someone tied a thread around my ribs and is gently tugging, asking me to come closer.

A red string of fate.

That old legend I never believed in it. But now? With how my entire body tensed when our eyes locked, how her face keeps replaying in my head like a looping melody i’m starting to wonder if the universe is trying to write something I can’t read yet.

I step back on stage, microphone in hand.

The next song is slower. More vulnerable. And when the music starts, my eyes instinctively search the crowd again.

Please be there.

A flash of silver. A movement in the middle row.

There she is.

She’s standing still not waving a lightstick like the others. Her hands are by her sides, clutching the edge of her sleeves, her eyes wide as if she’s just as startled as I am. I can tell she’s trying not to blink, like if she does, I’ll disappear.

And I’m doing the same.

There’s a second where we just stare.

A second where I forget how to breathe.

I sing, but I don’t remember the lyrics. I move, but my feet feel heavy.

Because something’s happening.

Something important.

And I can’t ignore it anymore.

When the concert ends, the others are buzzing with energy laughing, wiping sweat, taking selfies in the dressing room. I’m quiet. Distant.

“Yah, Woozi! We did great!” Hoshi claps my shoulder.

I smile or try to. “Yeah. It felt good.”

But my head’s somewhere else. Out there. Still on her.

Who is she?

Was she alone? Did she come for us, for me? Or was she just a face I was meant to find today?

I grip the towel tighter in my hands.

This shouldn’t be happening. I don’t know her. And yet it feels like I’ve always known her.

Like her soul knocked on mine and it finally answered.

I look back toward the stadium one last time before leaving for the car.

She’s gone.

But I know this isn’t the last time I’ll see her.

The thread’s been tied.

And I’m going to find out where it leads.

I didn’t sleep well last night.

My body was exhausted from the concert, but my mind was wide awake trapped in that moment where her eyes met mine. I replayed it in my head over and over again. The stillness in the chaos. The way her gaze softened, even from a distance. Like she recognized me first.

Like she’s been waiting too.

I wake up before my alarm. The sky is still tinted with early morning blue. I rub my eyes, drag myself out of bed, and brew coffee, trying to shake the fog in my chest.

It doesn’t work.

She’s still there in my head.

I’m not one to believe in fate, but what if…?

No. I need to get out.

I’m halfway through my second cup of coffee when my phone buzzes.

From: Hoshi Bro come out. I’m near the river. Let’s walk.

He’s one of the few people who won’t accept “no” for an answer, so I toss on a hoodie, sunglasses, and head out the door.

The Han River’s quiet at this hour. Runners, a few people walking their dogs, a couple teenagers with takeout sprawled on a bench. I spot Hoshi ahead and start walking toward him

And stop in my tracks.

No way.

There. Sitting under a tree. A small sketchpad in her lap, headphones on, eyes focused like she’s capturing something nobody else sees.

It’s her.

I almost laugh or scream. What are the chances? How?

Hoshi calls out to me, waving. I raise a hand, but my eyes are stuck on her.

Maybe she feels it. The weight of my gaze. She turns slowly.

And for the second time in two days, our eyes meet.

This time it’s closer. Sharper.

I swear my heart drops into my stomach.

She blinks. Her lips part. She knows.

She knows me too.

I force myself to keep walking past, my pulse hammering in my ears. I hear Hoshi say something, but I barely catch it.

“Hyung, you okay?”

I nod.

But I’m not.

Because now I’m sure this isn’t coincidence.

Later that day, I decide to stop by a café I used to go to when I needed peace. One that doesn’t play my music. Where the ahjumma behind the counter always adds extra honey to my tea without asking.

The bell chimes as I step in. It’s quiet thank God.

I place my order and walk toward my usual booth.

And nearly trip over my own feet.

Because she’s here.

Again.

This time sitting by the window, stirring something in her cup absentmindedly, notebook open, pen tucked behind her ear. The sun paints a warm halo around her.

I freeze.

She hasn’t seen me yet.

What are the odds?

I sit down in a booth across the café, out of her sight. My tea comes. I don’t touch it.

Instead, I keep watching.

She hums something. A melody. Barely audible, but familiar.

My own song.

She was there for me.

And now she’s everywhere.

Over the next few days, it keeps happening.

I walk into a convenience store late at night she’s standing in front of the ramyeon aisle, biting her lip in concentration.

I pass a bookstore I haven’t visited in months she steps out with a tote bag full of art books, looking up at the sky like she’s wishing something would fall from it.

I run into her again in a quiet alley near the company when I’m coming back from practice. She’s crouched beside a stray cat, offering it her sandwich. When she hears me approach, she looks up startled. But not afraid.

Just… confused. Like I am.

“Hi,” she says softly, like she’s not sure if I’ll hear.

I do.

But I can’t speak. I just nod and keep walking my throat full of words I can’t say.

Yet.

Back in the studio, I can't focus.

I try mixing a new track can’t get the layers right. I open lyrics I’ve been working on for weeks every line starts to sound like her. Everything I create feels tangled up in her presence.

It’s not just obsession.

It’s recognition.

I take a deep breath and look down at my wrist.

Invisible. But undeniable.

The thread is still pulling.

And I’m not going to fight it anymore.

YN'S POV

The morning after the concert, I woke up sore. Not just from standing on my feet for hours, but from… something else. Something deeper.

Something had shifted last night.

I couldn’t explain it not even to myself but the moment our eyes met, something ancient in me stirred. Like I had known him before. Like the universe had whispered his name into my soul long before I’d ever heard it.

Lee Jihoon.

Woozi. The name so many knew him by. But last night, in that split second when our gazes locked, it didn’t feel like I was seeing an idol.

It felt like I was seeing him.

Still, life had to go on.

Or at least, I tried to pretend it did.

I was back in my studio that morning, surrounded by canvases, brushes, and the faint smell of coffee and oil paint. Deadlines loomed like storm clouds. My manager had texted me three times, reminding me about commissions I hadn’t finished.

I needed to work.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

I shook my head and dipped a brush into crimson.

Focus.

I painted in silence for hours, only moving when my stomach grumbled or my hands started to cramp. I must’ve been hunched over for too long, because when I finally stood up, the entire room spun for a moment. My shoulders ached. My vision blurred a bit.

You need fresh air, I told myself.

So I grabbed my sketchpad and headed to the riverside.

It was quiet just the way I liked it. The wind brushed against my cheeks, cool and gentle, a stark contrast to the sticky summer nights that had been weighing the city down. I found a tree I liked, tucked myself beneath it, and began sketching whatever came to mind.

At some point, the pencil in my hand started drawing him.

I frowned at the realization trying to erase it but the outline remained.

His side profile. The delicate curve of his nose. His brows, knit in thought. His lips, slightly parted.

I groaned and leaned back against the tree, covering my face with my hands.

“This is getting ridiculous,” I muttered.

But then…

That feeling again.

That static in the air. That tug in my chest.

I looked up.

And there he was.

Again.

Walking. Hoodie pulled low. Sunglasses on. But I knew.

I knew.

His eyes found mine like magnets unmissable, inevitable.

And this time, it wasn’t a concert. It wasn’t a crowd.

It was just us. Him. Me. The tree. The wind. The silence.

Time didn’t freeze, but something inside me did.

Then he passed. Just a nod.

But that one second unraveled me for hours.

Later that afternoon, I decided to stop by my favorite café a tiny place near my old art college. The owner, an older woman with dyed red hair and endless gossip, always made me laugh. I needed normalcy. Something grounding.

I walked in, ordered a chamomile latte, and picked a sunny seat by the window.

The bell chimed again shortly after.

I didn’t look up at first.

But then I felt it.

That same weight in the air. That thread tightening around my ribs.

I lifted my gaze, and sure enough there he was.

Again.

This time sitting at the far end, barely moving, eyes hidden behind dark lenses. But I could feel his presence like a fire in the room.

I looked away quickly, heart pounding.

What was happening?

Why did I keep seeing him?

Was I just noticing him more now?

Or was the universe playing some strange trick?

The next few days were… eerie.

I saw him everywhere.

At the bookstore near the station standing a few shelves down.

At the boba place I swore no idol would ever set foot in waiting quietly with his cap low.

Even in a quiet alley near my building, where a stray cat always waited for me because I usually brought it leftovers.

I was crouched beside it, tearing off pieces of a sandwich when I felt someone approach.

I looked up.

And there he was.

He looked just as surprised.

I said hi, unsure if I imagined the whole thing. He just nodded lips tight, eyes unreadable.

Then he walked away.

And I was left there, surrounded by silence, a half-eaten sandwich, and a cat that meowed like I owed it answers.

That night, I lay in bed, eyes wide open.

I didn’t believe in soulmates. In fate. In red threads.

But now I was starting to wonder.

What if something really was pulling us together?

What if this was more than coincidence?

What if for once I wasn’t imagining things?

Woozi’s POV

He saw her again.

Fourth time in less than a week. It couldn’t be coincidence anymore.

She was crouched next to a stray cat, feeding it bits of her sandwich with a gentle smile. Her coat was too thin for the late evening breeze, but she didn’t seem to care. The wind tugged at her hair, and he caught the softest hum in her voice. She was talking to the cat like an old friend.

Jihoon stood frozen just around the corner.

He wasn’t wearing anything that would scream "idol" today. Hoodie. Beanie. Mask. Even so, she recognized him he could tell. Just like at the concert. Just like at the riverside. At the café. At the bookstore. It was always the same:

Her eyes would meet his.

His chest would tighten.

That damned invisible thread would pull.

And he’d walk away.

But not this time.

He stepped out.

She looked up, startled. Her lips parted in surprise.

They didn’t say anything for a second. The cat meowed and pawed at her knee, breaking the stillness.

“Hi,” she finally whispered, almost as if unsure whether he’d speak back.

Jihoon swallowed.

He wanted to say something smooth. Collected. Something that didn’t sound like his heart was clawing its way out of his chest.

But instead, he muttered, “We keep meeting.”

Her brows knit together in a small, amused frown. “Yeah… I noticed.”

He smiled slightly beneath his mask, then pulled it down just enough so she could see his face see that he wasn’t here as Woozi the artist, but as Jihoon the man. The stranger who felt inexplicably drawn to her.

“Listen,” he began, walking closer, “I know this is going to sound crazy, but… are you feeling it too?”

She blinked. “Feeling what?”

He paused. Looked up at the moonlit sky. “That pull. Like… there’s something connecting us.”

There. He’d said it.

She stared at him, silent. He could see the hesitation in her eyes — the same hesitation he’d been wrestling with all week.

Then she nodded, slow and careful. “I thought I was going insane.”

His heart skipped.

For the first time in days, the confusion in his head settled. He wasn’t imagining this. She felt it too.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” she asked softly, standing up and brushing off her coat. “All those times?”

“I didn’t know if it was real,” Jihoon admitted. “And I didn’t want to scare you. I’m… not used to this kind of thing.”

She smiled a little, tugging her coat tighter around her. “Neither am I.”

They stood there, under the orange halo of a streetlamp, neither quite sure what to say next.

So Jihoon just blurted it out.

“I want to get to know you.”

Her eyes widened.

“I don’t know how this works,” he said, voice quieter now. “But I keep thinking about you. Not just because I’ve seen you everywhere. It’s something else. Like… I already know you.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, clearly flustered. “I’m just a regular person.”

“Maybe that’s what I need,” he said, smiling.

The cat meowed again, circling their feet.

Jihoon looked down at it, then back up at her. “You want to walk for a bit?”

“…Sure,” she said, smiling and he could tell it wasn’t forced.

They walked slowly through quiet streets, the cat trailing behind for a block or two before giving up. Jihoon listened to her talk about painting, about overworking, about chamomile lattes and messy deadlines and getting yelled at by her manager.

He found himself laughing more than he had in weeks.

And when she teased him gently for being nothing like his stage persona, Jihoon flushed.

“I get that a lot,” he mumbled.

“Because on stage, you’re intense,” she grinned. “But off-stage? You’re kind of…”

“Kind of what?”

“…Adorably awkward.”

Jihoon groaned. “Don’t say that.”

She laughed, that soft, bell-like sound he already knew he’d chase if she ever walked away.

When they stopped at a vending machine, he bought them each a warm drink. She got milk tea. He got black coffee.

As they stood there sipping, Jihoon looked at her profile again.

The way her lashes curled naturally.

The smudge of graphite still on her fingertips.

She wasn’t just pretty.

She was real.

And for once, he didn’t want to walk away.

As they reached her building, Jihoon hesitated.

“I want to see you again,” he said.

“You will,” she answered, smiling.

“But not just by chance.”

She looked at him.

“Let me make it intentional this time.”

She bit her lip, eyes flickering with something soft. Hopeful.

“…Okay.”

That night, back in his apartment, Jihoon stared at the ceiling long after the city fell asleep.

The red thread tugged again.

And this time, he tugged back.

Y/N’s POV

Jihoon asked her out the next morning.

Not a fancy, over-the-top plan like she might’ve expected from someone famous. It was simple quiet.

“Would you… want to go somewhere? Just us?” “Anywhere in mind?” “Somewhere you don’t have to think.”

So that’s how she ended up in a small corner of Seoul hidden away from the main streets wearing her softest cardigan and sneakers, hair loosely tied. Her phone buzzed.

Jihoon: I’m two blocks away. Stay warm.

A smile slipped onto her face. She hadn’t stopped smiling since last night, honestly.

She tugged her coat tighter and waited on the bench, heart jittery. This wasn’t like the casual cafe sightings or shared glances. This was a real moment. Something that had intention. Choice.

And when he finally turned the corner hood up, mask on, hands in pockets she recognized him instantly. Not because he was famous. But because that invisible thread between them practically glowed.

“Hi,” she greeted, standing up.

“Hi,” he echoed, voice quiet.

They stared at each other for a second before both laughing. A little awkward. A little nervous. But it felt good.

“Ready?” he asked, nudging his head toward the sidewalk.

“Yeah.”

They walked.

No crowds. No managers. No schedules.

Just them.

Jihoon led her through narrow alleys and tiny shops she’d never even noticed before. They stopped at a bookstore so cramped it barely had space to turn, and she caught him watching her run fingers along the spines of old novels.

“You read romance?” she teased, holding up a worn-out paperback.

He made a face. “Only if someone forces me.”

“Oh no, you’re one of those.”

“Hey,” he chuckled. “Mystery and sci-fi have feelings too.”

She giggled, slipping the book back onto the shelf.

Then they stumbled into a vintage vinyl shop, and she caught him humming along to something under his breath.

“Is that your own song?”

Jihoon froze, then looked mortified. “Maybe.”

She grinned. “Cute.”

“You’re dangerous,” he muttered, cheeks pink.

“Why?”

“Because I never let anyone see this side of me.”

She looked at him then. Not Woozi the producer. But Jihoon the man who hid behind beanies and sarcasm and long working nights. The man who felt like home.

“Maybe that’s the side I like best.”

By afternoon, they ended up at a rooftop café tucked above an old building. The sky had turned soft with sunset, spilling orange light across Jihoon’s face as he sipped a caramel latte she’d made him order.

“You like caramel,” she said.

He blinked. “I do?”

“You made a face when you saw it on the menu. The good kind of face.”

He looked down at the drink, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re observant.”

She shrugged. “Only with people who matter.”

Jihoon grew quiet.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in tissue careful, like it was breakable.

She tilted her head. “What’s that?”

“It’s… nothing huge,” he muttered, handing it to her. “Just thought of you.”

Inside was a tiny charm. A silver paintbrush.

Her breath caught.

“It’s silly,” Jihoon added, nervous now. “I saw it while walking past a craft store. Reminded me of you.”

She stared at it this small, thoughtful token and felt her heart twist.

“No one’s ever done that for me,” she whispered.

Jihoon reached across the table, brushing his fingers against hers.

“You deserve it,” he said.

They didn’t rush the day.

They let the silence breathe. Let the tension settle between shy glances and nervous laughter.

And when they got back to her apartment, the sky already dusted with stars, she hesitated at the front door.

Jihoon did too.

“Thanks for today,” she said softly.

He nodded. “I’m glad you said yes.”

She opened her mouth to say something else but he stepped forward suddenly.

Not too close. Just… enough.

His hand gently brushed her cheek, and for a moment, he looked like he was thinking too much again. Always overthinking.

So she leaned in first.

Just a little.

And that was all it took.

His lips met hers soft, warm, unsure. Not urgent. Just enough to whisper I’m here.

When they pulled back, he didn’t speak.

He just rested his forehead against hers and exhaled.

“I’m really glad I followed that thread.”

She smiled, heart racing.

“Me too.”

4 days later

The city felt different today.

Less rushed, softer somehow.

Maybe it was because Jihoon had asked her out again.

Not for a fancy dinner or a show, but something more low-key a quiet picnic by the Han River. Just the two of them, away from the noise, the cameras, the crowds.

She had spent the morning preparing snacks in her tiny kitchen. Nothing complicated, just sandwiches, venoiseries, juices, some fresh fruit, and her favorite iced tea. As she packed the basket, her hands trembled just a bit nervous anticipation fluttering like butterflies in her stomach.

When Jihoon arrived, he was carrying a folded blanket and a small portable speaker. He smiled at her, that same shy warmth she was starting to recognize.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded, slipping her hand into his as they walked to the subway station.

The riverbank was peaceful when they arrived, soft breezes playing with the autumn leaves. Jihoon spread the blanket carefully, and they sat side by side, sharing food and stories.

“Do you ever get tired of all the attention?” she asked quietly.

He looked out over the water, thoughtful.

“Sometimes. But it’s not the attention. It’s the expectations. The pressure to always be... perfect.”

She reached over and squeezed his hand.

“You don’t have to be perfect with me.”

He turned to her, eyes sincere.

“Really?”

“Really.”

For a moment, the world shrank to just the two of them, the rustling leaves, and the golden sunlight.

Jihoon pulled out his phone and played a soft melody one of his unreleased songs. She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her.

“I wrote this for you,” he confessed.

Her heart skipped.

“Me?”

He nodded, cheeks pink.

“Every note is a promise.”

Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked them away.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled and brushed a stray hair behind her ear.

“You make me want to be better.”

They spent hours talking about fears, dreams, and the little things that made them who they were. Jihoon told her about his childhood, the loneliness he’d felt despite the crowds, and how music had been his only refuge.

She shared her own stories how painting saved her on dark days, how she sometimes felt lost in her own kindness, like the world was too harsh for someone like her.

Jihoon listened. Really listened.

And that made all the difference.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting pink and purple hues across the sky, Jihoon reached into his pocket again.

“Wait,” he said, pulling out a small box.

Her breath caught.

“Open it.”

Inside was a delicate bracelet silver, with a tiny charm shaped like a music note intertwined with a paintbrush.

“It’s for you,” he said softly. “A reminder that we’re connected, even when we’re apart.”

She slid it onto her wrist, feeling the cool metal against her skin.

“I love it.”

He smiled, eyes shining.

“So... about that kiss last time.”

Her cheeks warmed.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Me too.”

Jihoon leaned in slowly.

This time, the kiss was deeper full of the promise of more moments like this, more days spent discovering each other.

Later, as they packed up to leave, Y/N felt a warmth she hadn’t known she was missing. Maybe fate really did pull strings, and maybe, just maybe, those strings were leading her somewhere worth going.

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maythedreadwolftakeyou · 7 months ago

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idk man been sifting through my feelings on all this. and i think what it comes down to is i don't really care/mind that there are non-canonical (BY DEFINITION, if it is not IN the media, it is not in the 'canon', and this info was in tweets) statements about Lucanis' sexuality being demi/ace/him being a virgin. and i'm glad for people who like to incorporate that into their headcanons about the game/interpretation of his character and expand on that more than the game itself does, like, this is our space now baby do what makes you happy!

but personallyyyyyyy i just do not think these new labels are some magic bandaid that solves the flaws in the pacing and writing of his romance. Lucanis never talking to Rook about his feelings as they get to know each other (but sure is willing to talk to Rook about his feelings for Neve if you don't romance him) is not solved, for me, by saying "well he wouldn't be attracted until he got to know you and also has no experience with sex". the same way calling it a "slow burn" did not solve this for me. especially because right up until release he was being advertised as a "bisexual mess". but now was secretly a "panromantic demisexual" the whole time. it just... idk. you can say anything you want online, you know? but if you don't Show Me... well. i also don't like that people who are saying 'well this was Not part of his story in the game so i don't see it' are getting labeled as anti-ace when like, many of the criticisms i am seeing are coming from people who are themselves demi/ace lol. it's not asexual representation bc it is not in the game itself. (though honestly. i AM glad that that was not jammed into his story arc, and that his quests were about his agonizing over his family and the fact that he's now bodysharing with a demon. because his writing was never going to get MORE lines, and to take away any of the ones he had to put in a sexuality arc beyond an offhand mention would have really crashed that because the existing writing barely holds together as is. like there just was not room to have more so personally i am not criticizing Mary Kirby for her decision not to add it. but you can't not add something and then also claim it's a definitive part of his character. plus i dont think a character needs to know/understand/use modern labels anyway).

and personally i DO prefer an awkward/fumbling Lucanis, to be clear. Before Veilguard came out I was never expecting the sexy antivan lover angle. we already have Zevran (who ALSO isn't actually that sterotype either, he has SO much depth), I didn't want poor-imitation Zevran, and bioware would not write Lucanis like that to make sure he is a more distinct character anyway. BUT i do think it's reasonable in a bioware game to expect that a romance is going to have romantic content--and the number of times after his cutscenes i literally said aloud "go girl give us nothing" after he failed to react to a flirt was pretty sad. If he's awkward and nervous give him a line where he stutters and doesn't know how to react, not just a blank stare and back to business, or whatever. Or a scene where you can literally ask "you never respond to my flirting do you want me to stop" and for him to say say he likes it but doesn't know how to reciprocate or. ANYTHING. Idk. I have seen 10 different posts/takes on how the Wall Lean Scene fits in, be it that he was imitating a romance novel or it was crow seduction training or he was just pretending because that's how he's seen Illario do it but at the end of the day. It is all just speculation because nothing in the game EVER addresses how wildly different the tone of that scene is from every other one of his romance scenes. And as much as i love the Sexy Wall Lean, given the rest of his characterization in EVERY other romance scene, i think I'm at a point where i think the romance would have been better served by cutting it out and having a different scene where you actually get to talk to him instead.

but! that is not the game we were given. we only have what we have, which is the Veilguard content by Mary Kirby, and The Wigmaker Job written by Courtney Woods (where for reference, he mentions stumbling into an orgy on a previous job, and having an "interesting" time getting out of that, so i already think we have 2 different interpretations of his character between them anyway). but yeah idk man to me "well he's ace" is not an excuse for either gaps in the writing or cut content or whatever was going on. because 1. HE IS NOT AN ACTUAL PERSON he is a storytelling vessel that i felt failed to satisfyingly communicate the entire romance story and 2. even if he was a person saying 'well in ace relationships communication sucks' would also be, not great, you know. everything beyond the text itself is just interpretation and headcanons

#anyway maybe i'll get cancelled now but whatever #ramblings #jade plays dav #dragon age: veilguard #lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #idk man. happy for everyone who these headcanons make happy!#dont like how its now being used to try to hush people who Still have the same issues with his romance as from before the tweets #have seen a bunch of posts now that are like 'well of COURSE this is why you couldnt kiss him sooner'#or 'OBVIOUSLY this is why the wall lean scene feels out of place now' and NOPE. that is still a sign of poor execution by the game.#believe whatever you like to fill in the gaps to explain all this bc i sure am having to go in with a glue gun myself mentally #but this is now 'one option among many' not the definitive answer people can use to try to refute other opposing headcanons #datv critical #da4 critical #and whether he is actually demi/ace/a virgin is now simply up to the player/writer/artist and not a Canon Fact #datv spoilers #da4 spoilers #dragon age: the veilguard #lucanisposting #dav critical

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thelargefrye · 1 year ago

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ATEEZ AS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEACHERS ... bullet - point fic ( 17+ )

pairing : teacher!ateez x teacher!f!reader (separately)

genre : teacher au, fluff, comedy, workplace romance, bulletpoint headcanons, implied co-workers to lovers (for all of them), secret relationships (for a lot of them)

word count : 4.1k

warnings : middle schoolers (yes this is needed), mentions of students shipping their teachers, mentions of a past make-out from college (mingi's section)

note : inspired by these prompts and my own job lol

honorary tag : @sanjoongie

what i think it would be like working with ateez in a middle school and perhaps being something more than co-workers with them.

KIM HONGJOONG

he's a math teacher – seventh grade and also head of the math department at the school

when he's teaching, he's in his element and he's very passionate about teaching his student and the content

he was terrible at math when he was a student and often tells his own students in order to motivate them...

sometimes it works but most times it doesn't

he's definitely one of the more stricter teachers at the beginning of the year, but lets up near the end of the year

students love him, like there's not one kid who hates him

some students do wonder how he manages to get away with his funky hair colors, but no one really questions it anymore

he's also very stylish and is known for his fashionable looks that make him look like he just came off the runway

the two of you met when you started teaching at the same school, he's been teaching for two years longer than you have

you also teach seventh grade and immediately clicked as friends on your first day

he answers any questions you have that isn't content related and is kind of seen as the head of the seventh grade as well

he gets along well with the older teachers who have been doing this for 20+ years, those teachers either go to you or him when they need help with the new programs that admin is making them use in class

a lot of the students ask him if you two are dating because you're the younger teachers in the grade-level and are always hanging out

"dating? why are you worried about who i'm dating? we have equations to worry about," he would say and always brush them off

most of the students drop, not really wanting to make hongjoong upset but that doesn't mean the question won't come up again later on

your students will also ask you the same question and like hongjoong, you brush them off and not really answering them

the students would often go back and forth on if you two were dating or not with some even trying to provide "evidence" that you were dating

and some students gave up on thinking that their literature and math teacher were dating

until one day you showed up to school wearing a cardigan

and not just any cardigan

a cardigan that hongjoong wore a month ago, one that students knew was custom made by their teacher himself

and the whole seventh grade lost their minds because holy cow, their literature teacher and math teacher WERE in fact dating

the evidence of you wearing hongjoong's cardigan was enough to convince all the students it was true

so then some of them decided to confront you both

"teacher kim, teacher l/n we know your secret."

you and hongjoong were of course confused because of course your students had to be cryptic about everything... seventh graders 😒

"we know you guys are dating! teacher l/n, you're wearing teacher kim's custom cardigan!"

hongjoong had never turned his head so fast in his life and he immediately looked at the cardigan and sure enough

it was his

and you two were busted because now all your students knew you both were at least something, if not more than friends

PARK SEONGHWA

seonghwa teaches eighth grade reading / literature, he also has his masters in special education and administration

he is also the teacher that heads student council – like he built it from the ground up after the teacher before him let it crash and burn allowed it to be ruined

but seonghwa rebuilt the student council club and now its flourishes thanks to his leadership skills and teaching the students those same leadership skills

being a teacher is like a family job, his mother was a teacher and taught at the same school that he now teaches at

he wanted to become one to continue her legacy

students think he's way too handsome to be a teacher

he's also way too nice to be a teacher but like... none of the students ever give him issues

like even the behavior students don't disrespect him like they would other teachers – its kind of crazy

you had always admired seonghwa because of how good he was at his job and honestly... you were kind of jealous of him too

but you wouldn't dare tell him

you can't help but be amazed when you watch him speak at department meetings and how he always voices his thoughts so elegantly

seonghwa is also never afraid to help you if he sees you struggling or to ask for your opinion during meetings when he notices you haven't spoken

and he'll always back you up which surprises you because you aren't friends or even in the same grade

you kind of developed a crush on him but again you would never tell him or anybody for that matter

which to be honest, your crush and admiration is probably what lead you to volunteering to help out with the student council overnight trip to a student council convention

it was you, seonghwa, plus the ten student council students that qualified to go

you really never knew who exhausting planning a field trip was and seonghwa amazed you once again with how well-planned out the trip was

it kind of made you feel guilty because of how little you did to help out with the planning

"don't feel bad y/n! i'm glad you volunteered to come, i usually struggle with finding someone to come with me to help chaperone."

"really?"

"yeah."

well... that did make you feel a little better

and of course since you two were the only chaperones, that meant the two of you got to room together

the students were pretty sure they almost saw you pass out in the hotel lobby when seonghwa told you that

"teacher l/n, are you okay! you don't look so good!"

"i'm fine..."

"you're fine with sharing a room together right?" seonghwa asks once the two of you are alone in the hotel room

the students were also in their own hotel rooms and winding down after the long trip, you could feel yourself sink into the bed once you got into the room

"its fine, i don't mind," you tell him and seonghwa gives you a warm smile as he settles down on the bed next to yours "are field trips always this exhausting?"

"only the overnight ones"

"great"

JEONG YUNHO

eighth grade history teacher but he's also taught sixth grade history in the past as well

yunho is very serious about teaching and strict when it comes to listening, doing work, being respectful, etc.

especially in the beginning of the year, but does let up a little bit near the end and after exams and stuff

he has a strict schedule that he follows when teaching his content and knows his content like the back of his hand

he has a routine and the students are quick to learn it and make sure the others are at least doing what they are suppose to be doing when the bell rings

but despite how strict and stuff he is, yunho loves teaching and the kids love his class

even if they don't like it at the beginning, the class and yunho will grow on them before the year is over

even the other teachers respect yunho and will ask him on how he teaches certain events and whatnot, always going to him for tips on where to find good materials

yunho is like the jack-of-all-materials

even has his own tpt page because of how much stuff he has made for his own class and co-workers

you will also always find him and san hanging out together in each other's room during their planning time

usually gossiping about students or other teachers

students have learned that when san walks into yunho's room, then its serious because san never leaves his room during class time

also no one ever really bothers yunho because of how strict he is with teaching and getting everything he needs done, to get done

however, students are shocked when you walk into yunho's room one day WHILE he's teaching to ask him a question

like their jaws drop when yunho stops teaching in order to help you with something and laughing with you as he brushes your apology off

it was like they just watched a mean dog turned into the friendliest puppy when you walked in

some of them questioned if they were transported to a different reality because there is no way this is happening

you and yunho are like night and day, yunho with dark button-ups and you with your funky colored pants

"you're seeing this to right?" one of them would whisper to the other students around them

the students were too stunned to speak

"hey! get to work, i expect you to have these notes written down by the time i'm done," yunho would say and immediately the students would get to work

"thank you teacher jeong, i appreciate the help with this new program"

"sure, its no problem," he says as he walks you to the door. "choi came to me during planning asking about it plus some other teachers as well"

"ah, well glad i'm not the only one struggling!" you let out a laugh and yunho returns it and laughs with you, "i'll see you after school, yeah?"

"of course"

you wave as you close the door behind you and yunho immediately goes back into his teaching mode

once again leaving his students shocked and with whiplash from how fast his attitude changed

"we really were in just another reality"

KANG YEOSANG

seventh grade history but wants to one day be a librarian

yeosang loves history but is also certified to teach reading/literature

a lot of the students and teachers love him for how nice he is to everyone

he really connects well with the behavior students, like a lot of them will always say he's there favorite teacher

even the ones who never come to class, go to yeosang's class because who in their right mind who skip teacher kang's class?

no one that's who

students will always go to him when there's an issue because they know he will help them

that's why a lot of them are surprised when they find out him and wooyoung are best friends since high school

"you and teacher jung are best friends!?"

"yep! have been for years!" and yeosang is proud to say that him and wooyoung are best friends and can teach together at the same school

none of the students can get over how handsome he is as well and a lot of sixth graders can only hope to get him in seventh grade

"teacher kang, you're so handsome you could be an actor!"

yeosang can only smile at the comments, not really saying anything as he's use to those comments by now

well coming from his students or other adults that is

however, hearing those comments (or reading them) from you is a different story

he doesn't know how you manage to time it whenever his students are doing independent work but you do

he'll be at his desk or walking around, when you come in and some the students will immediately greet you

you simply smile and wave at them before walking over to hand yeosang something

"i got the stuff from your mailbox while i was at mine," you told him

yeosang thanks you and you smile at him before turning and leaving

you usually go to the mailbox when you need a break from your class and there's already someone in there to help

yeosang looks at the stuff in his hands, and notices the folded piece of paper that had his name written nicely in your handwriting

he opens it as he walks to his desk and immediately feels a warmth overtake his face

'you look really pretty today, yeo ;) can't wait to hangout after school in our usual place! miss you already!'

yeosang quickly stored the note in his desk, before quickly going back to teaching and trying to hide the excitement of seeing you later to the back of his mind

CHOI SAN

eighth grade reading/literature teacher along with seonghwa and school's volleyball coach

he played volleyball when he was in school and so he's very passionate about the sport and his athletes

a tough coach and an even tougher teacher, but only because he knows all his students can do better than what they showing him

like seonghwa with student council, san managed to help the volleyball team go to nationals thanks to his coaching and the his girls' effort and teamwork

a lot of students are scared of him because of how he coaches, especially his athletes – like even just the mention of san gets them scared

but really san just wants the best for all his students and just like volleyball, he's also passionate about his teaching

very writing focused versus seonghwa who is more reading based, but they work really well together to make sure all their students are getting the same knowledge and material

san's not afraid to speak his mind during department meetings and the other teachers know this – like he will straight up call something out if he knows it won't work

seonghwa usually has to cut him off because of this, they are a very funny duo and students love watching them interact

"teacher choi is like a dark cloud and teacher park is like a sunny day"

like the kids, you are also intimidated by him because of how much just pure authority he gives off

like you would think he's a principal from how students act around him

he actually does step up as an admin when the actual principals are out of the building because he does have his masters in administration, so he could very well one day become a principal

but going back to you being intimidated by him 💀

you never really dared to approach him, always sitting on the opposite side of the room during department meetings

mainly because you didn't want to get on his bad side

"please teacher l/n, can you help us start this club?"

"sure, girls!" you were more than happy to help sponsor their club "who's the other teacher?"

you watched as the girls' faces deflated at the question, of course you don't blame them for not knowing that clubs needed two teachers to become official, not just one

"i have a teacher in mind!"

"who?" "tell us!"

"coach choi, can help! especially since volleyball is over!"

you felt the color drain from your face at the thought of san and you running a club together

"teacher l/n will you ask coach choi if he can help us?"

"sure... i'll ask."

"a club?"

"yeah, some of your volleyball girls recommended you and wanted to see if you could be the second teacher sponsor."

"ah, that's right. the school has that stupid two teacher club sponsor rule. always did think that was dumb."

san thought for a minute which felt like a lifetime the longer you stood in his classroom

"sure, why not. i'm sure it'll be fun to run a club together."

"i'm sure the girls will also appreciate it. i'll send you the information when i hear back from the principal about the club."

"of course, if you have any issues let me know."

"will do, thanks!"

that was definitely a lot less nerve-racking then you thought it would be...

maybe running a club san won't be so bad after all

SONG MINGI

mingi is THE ms. frizzle aka the best science teacher you will ever have

he teaches sixth grade science and is always having some sort of fun with testing experiments and theories with the students

science class will forever be ruined after you have him as a teacher because no one is doing it like mingi

literally older students will come by to see either him or wooyoung and they will always ask mingi what he is currently doing in that class

and while he's an amazing teacher – he's also hella clumsy

like students learn fast not to leave their things in the floor if they don't want this 6ft tall man tripping over and possible destroying their things

someone save this man from all those decorative pencil pouches and metal water bottles pls 💀

anyways, a lot of students love mingi because of his fun personality and not because he almost below up the science lab because a experiment gone wrong

very much into team building and having all the students work together towards a goal because he knows how important teamwork is in life and wants students to have it

a lot of students are actually intimidated by him when they first see him because of his tall stature and harsh look

but he's really cool once him and the students build that rapport

so a lot of students were surprised when they found out that you and mingi were best friends

it never really clicked for most of them since you both taught different grades AND subjects

but then during school assemblies and such, you and mingi would always be sitting next to each other

whispering and laughing to each other and it would leave students bewildered when they saw the two of you

like "what in the world are they laughing about?"

"you know... the kiddos asked me the other day about us," you said, leaning over and whispering into his ear

"yeah?"

"they asked me how long we've been friends"

"w-what did you tell them?"

"since college, i left out the part where you made out with my best friend before tripping over her bag and landed into my lap."

you could tell mingi was blushing, his ears turning red at your words

"i-it wasn't like that!"

"i know, no need to feel embarrassed. i agreed to go out with you didn't i?"

you couldn't help the smirk on your face while mingi had a pout on his own, completely forgetting that the two of you were suppose to be watching the talent show and not flirting

JUNG WOOYOUNG

teaches sixth grade math and is an on-going menace to his students

you either love or hate him because of how he teaches and runs his classroom

always changing the seating desk arrangement in his room which keeps students on their toes

he's always a complete 180 from hongjoong who is the head of the math department

like students get whiplash when they go from wooyoung to hongjoong because of how different they are

but that's not to say wooyoung is bad at his job, on the contrary wooyoung is fantastic at his job

always has a math pun ready to whip out when needed and is always dishing out savage remarks to his students when they try to be a smart-ass to him

they learn quick that they won't be able make smart comments with him around

wooyoung is just very blunt with how he's feeling – like if a student makes him mad you'll know he's mad

does a lot of bootcamp punishments (i.e makes them do exercises when they don't listen to him like: jumping jacks, squats, nothing too extreme) this makes kids not want to disrespect him because they know what will happen if they do

some parents have thought it was "extreme" but he simply told them "well it got your child to listen for once in their life" – that shut the parent up real quick

but wooyoung rarely gets serious because he has the respect from students and so those bootcamp punishments are rare and few in-between

most of the time he's fun and playful which also travels over to how he acts with his fellow teachers

including you

wooyoung always visits you when he's on his planning period

like your class can always expect him to stop by at least once during their class

which none of them mind cause that means they can see their favorite math teacher again but don't tell hongjoong that

however with his constant visits, it makes students question if you guys are dating

especially when wooyoung is always complimenting you when you're at your desk and you both think that the students can't hear you

"you look very lovely today, teacher l/n."

"watch yourself, jung."

you eventually have to run wooyoung off so you can get back to teaching

"oh they are totally dating" students would whisper to each other watching the two of you interact

students really really ship you guys together and are always questioning you about your ideal type and stuff

but you always brush off their questions and comments about how you and teacher jung would look great together

and eventually the students had moved on to something else and you were thankfully left alone about your love life by your students

until one day when you and wooyoung were spotted by some students outside of school

you and him had went to the store together, not really thinking about school as you both spent time together

however that peace between the two of you was set ablaze when heard a familiar "teacher l/n! teacher jung!" and snapping the two of you out of your daze

wooyoung was quick to greet the students who approached you both, a smile on his face and arm around his shoulder

and you knew your secret was out because of how the students' zoned in on wooyoung's arm around your shoulder

you couldn't help but dread what would happen when you arrive at school tomorrow

"i didn't like keeping it a secret anyways," he would making you smack the back of his head in response before pushing the shopping cart and walking away from your boyfriend

CHOI JONGHO

eighth grade math who got roped into teaching seventh grade science as well

jongho is really in his element when it comes to math

and is really hanging by a thread when it comes to science

like he's the opposite of mingi and HATES science – like who thought it was a good idea to have this man teach it?

oh, they did a budget cut and so they were down a science teacher? makes sense.

the kids either love or hate him because of how he teaches

his eighth graders and seventh graders are like night and day when it comes to literally everything

it might also have something to do with the content but just let him complain about his seventh graders

you actually found him one day in the workroom stressing over his science while eating his ramen

you remember some of your kids talking about jongho and you've seen him at faculty meetings

but never had a one-on-one conversation with him mainly because he was in a totally different content and grade from you (he was still an eighth grade teacher at the end of the day)

you know hongjoong really likes him and praises him for learning how to adapt so well to a new content era that he never studied in

you think that for a first-year teacher he's doing a lot better than you had when you were in his shoes

and you figure what's the harm in talking to him and seeing how he's doing

"everything going okay, teacher choi?"

he's caught off guard by your voice, jumping and looking up at you as you walk over to get your copies from the copier

"oh, um, i'm fine. just thinking about what i'm gonna do for my science class"

"ahh, that's fair, i still can't believe they have you teaching science and math for your first year"

jongho lets out a laugh which is followed by a small "yeah... i can't either"

"but hongjoong says that you're doing a good job for your first year, so you should be proud! hongjoong never compliments anyone"

"really?"

"really. and just know that if you ever need help just reach out. i know you're not a seventh grade teacher but us who teach seventh grade needs to stick together. its a tough group."

"oh my god, i'm so glad you think that as well! i thought it was just me!"

"oh no, everyone knows seventh grade is always the worse year, we all struggle with them at some point"

"that really makes me feel better about doing my job"

"jongho, you're doing a great job. the kids love you and there will always be those kids that make you feel like you are terrible at your job. but all you have to do is teach to the ones who want to be there, and worry about them."

you tell him the exact same words you were told when you were a first year and thinking the same thing

"thank you, y/n"

you can't help but smile as you nod your head, taking your copies and heading back to your room while jongho finishes his ramen

tag list : @frankenstein852 @watamotee33 @kawennote09 @mixling-blog @marahleiwhen @kpopnightingale @harry-the-pottypus @pyeonghongrie @sanniesbum @marvelahsobx @khjcoo @mysticfire0435 @exfolitae @dementedaly @simeonswhore @moonm1st @nvmbheart @spooo00oky @frgogh @sookacc @seongwin @burnsmepls @ad0rechuu @tunaasan @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @cheesekimchi @confusedmoonchild777 @mjyungi @innieontop @iweirdthingsblog @s0obinluvr @worcesheshestershiresauce @moonlightgrleric @wineyoungie @jeongwangjessmina @lemineso

network : @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #kdiarynet #ateez x reader #ateez blurbs #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez headcanons #ateez hongjoong x reader #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yeosang x reader #ateez san x reader #ateez mingi x reader #ateez wooyoung x reader #ateez jongho x reader

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cosmorice · 4 months ago

Text

Descent into Madness

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Synopsis: CEO!Jungkook and you have an odd relationship filled with tension and chaos; but is it hatred he truly has for you?

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x Reader

Tw: angst, slow-burn, swearing (duh), toxic jungkook, alcohol

Wc: 2721

I hate you, I think? Series Masterlist

One day. One day was all you had to prepare for the inevitable business trip. Over the course of the past month, Jungkook hasn’t warmed up to you in the slightest. The cold man even bought you a separate flight from everyone else, albeit same day. However, you knew this company board meeting was important. All of the higher ups, including you, had no choice but to agree to go. Jungkook Technologies was expanding ever so rapidly, and creating new and stronger ties amongst peers and investors alike was the cherry on top.

The warm shower water hit you gently, leaving trails of glistening beads against your skin. You thanked your lucky stars Namjoon was amongst the higher ranks; what would you do without him? Your mind racks against the thoughts racing throughout your head as a conversation makes it’s way back into your memory

The dimly lit yet quaint cafe was a hidden gem for you and Namjoon. You thank the worker kindly as you grab your regular order of a chai latte and a tender buttery scone. You beam as you take a seat across from Namjoon. People stroll by the shop windows as you both converse.

“Joonie, I seriously don’t understand his issue. He’s buying me a separate hotel from you all for fuck’s sake!” You exclaim, with anger laced throughout your words. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the revelation as he stares into your eyes.

“What?” He asks, breath intertwined with the coffee he steadily sipped on throughout your little outing.

“I know. He told me today.” You mumble, mind still filled with confusion from your earlier interaction with the CEO. Namjoon delicately touches his chin as he tries to conjure up a solution or some sort of explanation.

“Well, we do have a little over a month until the trip. Maybe he was just busting your chops or trying to get a reaction out of you. I wouldn’t think too hard about it.” Your concerned friend gives a reassuring smile. Twilight begins seeping it’s way amongst your faces as the city lights begin to make an appearance.

“I hope you’re right.”

A chill runs along your damp body as your shower comes to a halt and the cool air greets your naked body. God how you hope Jungkook has a change of heart. You make a beeline to get under the soothing blankets on your bed. You watch the city skyline, anxious to go to sleep as you knew tomorrow was the dreaded day. You take a glance towards the packed suitcases sitting in the corner of your room, right beside the door. This would only be a week.

As your eyelids fight against you, sleep closes in like a creature preying on the weakest link. Your phone eventually vibrates, startling you awake from the calm dreamscape your mind created.

Jungkook [12:04 am] - flight is tomorrow in case you forgot.

Your eyes adjust and filter in a daze. Why the hell is he texting you at this hour.

Y/N [12:07 am] - i already have my flight information. gn

read @12:08 am

Your body betrays you and your eyes roll far back, wondering why he’s making it a point to remind you of your flight. If he was trying to rub salt in the wound, mission success.

Y/N [12:08 am] - he just texted me to remind me my flight is tomorrow, tf is his problem

Joonie [12:11 am] - bless his poor heart, idk what his deal is. i’ll switch my flight to yours now. k?

This is what made you love Namjoon. You’ve never believed in platonic soulmates until he crashed upon your rather dull life.

Jungkook stares at the message you responded with before clicking his phone off and pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He never quite understood where the vitriol towards you came from. It just happened. Jungkook was never one to deal with emotions, and he certainly was not experienced in the romance department.

He winces slightly as he recalls when your toothy smiles around him turned into tight lipped ones; Or how your natural conversational personality gradually became more guarded in his presence. It wasn’t your fault though, as he was the one who began to distance himself and his actions became more callous.

“Woah we have a flight tomorrow Jung.” Jin cautiously states. It was tradition for Jin to spend the night before a trip, something they’ve upheld from childhood. Jungkook takes a swig of the brown liquor as he looks into Jin’s brown eyes.

“I’m aware.”

“Alright. What’s going on?” Jin asks. He always had a hunch his friend had some sort of feeling towards you after watching your interactions within the past few years of you working under Jungkook Technologies.

“Nothing. We should get going to bed.” Without another word, Jungkook shuts the kitchen lights off, plunging the room into darkness as he trails into his bedroom, leaving Jin perplexed.

You’ve never enjoyed trips. The stress of packing, rushing to the airport amongst the crowds, and not to mention the expensive airport food, was never something meant for you. Peace and tranquility was your kryptonite but frankly put, trips were the opposite of that for you.

Jungkook on the other hand, was accustomed to it. His family enjoyed lavish vacations ever since he can remember. He found great comfort in anything that kept him busy. Perhaps it was the rush of adrenaline that came alongside the chaos of it all. Who knows.

A breath of relief escapes your lips as you take your seat alongside Namjoon.

“This is utterly fucking ridiculous Y/N. He needs to get a grip.” Namjoon sneers as he rests his head against the blue tinted neck pillow. Your body reacts with a simple nod of agreement as you place your earbuds in and look out the window. The only good thing about this whole damn debacle. White clouds drift by as music plays throughout your ears.

Jin managed to set Jungkook straight about whatever he may be dealing with, not to involve it with the workplace; forcing him to get you a room at the same hotel amongst everyone else. Nobody had a clue as to why he would book you elsewhere in the first place.

Sure, Jungkook was an attractive man, but you wouldn’t let a simple work crush get in the way of business. He would do small gestures such as bring you coffee, walk you back to your office after a long meeting, take time out of his day to help you out, the whole 360.

That all changed though. It started with small remarks, leaving you utterly confused. Small things such as, “What in the world are you wearing? My grandma could pick a better outfit than that.” All the way to, “You must have lied about your university, because you are simply incompetent.” Soon enough, the coffee ceased to stop, and the small chats. What changed?

It never ceased to amaze you how someone could be so cruel and calculated. Granted, you've made some mistakes within your life, but the treatment was utterly uncalled for.

You recall the days where you would leave work crying as Jungkook watched you with a stone-cold expression. You would sob into Namjoon’s dress shirt as he coddled you. You knew you didn’t have to endure the harsh treatment, but you lived such a comfortable life and worked too hard. It was a hard choice to choose a wealthier lifestyle over your own wellbeing.

A yawn escapes your lips as the booming landscape of Tokyo fills your eyesight. The sun was beginning to set and vivid hues of red and orange reflected amongst the buildings. You snicker as you glance at the snoring Namjoon. His head tilted back, mouth agape, with an eye mask on to complete the look.

“We will beginning our descent. Please fasten your seatbelts and welcome to Tokyo.” The captain states. The irony of that sentence engulfs you, as this was a descent into a week of the madness that was the annual business meeting with the one and only CEO, Jungkook.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Jungkook exhaled a strong breath, with the stench of whiskey permeating the air. He initially had regrets towards the way he treated you. For his sake, he initially thought booking a separate flight and hotel would be a beneficial thing for your already tense relationship. However, he knew deep down you would hate it, which pushed him even more towards doing it. Something stirred within him whenever he got any reaction from you, whether it be good or bad.

Why did he seem to enjoy getting a rise out of you? The first one to take notice of this was Jin.

The noise of the airplane jets created an ambient sound as Jin sits comfortably next to the buzzed CEO. The dimmed lights within the first class cabin darkening Jungkook’s features ever so slightly. The silver rings adorn his fingers beautifully as he takes yet another swig of the bitter alcohol.

“I still don’t get why you changed Y/N’s flight.” The raven-haired boy huffs, causing Jungkook’s attention to gear towards him.

“She hates me. It’s for the best.” Jungkook sneers, biting his lip piercing in the process.

“She doesn’t hate you, but you need to get your shit together. It’s fucking ridiculous and you’re a CEO. Start acting like one.” With this, Jungkook’s heart flutters. You don’t hate him? A part of him, for some odd reason, wished you did.

You see, although growing up with a cushy lifestyle, Jungkook has always been attracted to chaos. He’s never had a girlfriend and never enjoyed dealing with his emotions. Here and there, he’d bring a flashy girl home for the night whenever CEO duties didn’t need much tending to. He enjoyed girls running out of his apartment, calling him all names from the book after he condescendingly states, “So, it’s a new day and that requires you to get the hell out.”

He’s never been able to pinpoint if it’s the way they react that attracts him, or the utter chaos that follows, but he knew he enjoyed it.

“This is your captain speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts as we prepare to descend into Tokyo.”

The winter air created beautiful frost amongst the glass windows within Jungkook’s office.

“Y/N, you were absolutely amazing at the conference today!” Jin beams. Jin was one of the first people to take you under their wing, treating you like a little sister. He enjoyed seeing your growth and remarkable change within the company. People absolutely adored you due to your humble and warm-hearted nature.

“I think you should take some notes from Namjoon though. He always manages to somehow uphold himself to a much higher standard in comparison to you.” Jungkook states matter-of-factly, with a still expression. Jin’s eyes widen as he watches the smile evaporate from your face.

“Thank you for the feedback sir.” With clammy hands, you bow your head and release a shaky breath before turning and walking out. If looks could kill right now, Jungkook would be a dead man. Jin stares daggers into his soul. Throughout their 20+ years of friendship, Jungkook could count with one hand how many times Jin has ever been genuinely angry towards him; today being one of them.

“He said something again didn’t he?” A tear falls down your cheeks as you bite your lip and approach Namjoon. You simply give a weak nod as he wraps an arm around your back to guide you towards the now empty conference room. “Listen Y/N, you know, there are other large companies out there. Why do you keep allowing him to do this? Do you need me to say something?” Your friend veers, concern poisoning his voice.

“No. It’s alright.”

After a smooth landing, you can’t fight off the smile that makes its way onto your face. Although you hated trips in general, it felt amazing being able to visit Tokyo alongside a friend like Namjoon. It didn’t take long for you all to gather your luggage within the busy airport. Haneda airport was astounding and pristine. The white walls reflected the bright lights within the airport as you and Namjoon made your way to the hotel in the heart of Tokyo itself.

“You know, maybe you can confront Jungkook about his behavior. I mean we all are stuck here for a week so why not?” Namjoon states. He knew you were not one for confrontation, as it did nothing but cause you extra stress. You hated having issues with anyone,; It’s been years since you can remember the last time you’ve ever had a problem amongst a peer.

The city whirs past as you both chatter within the taxi. Your stomach fails to protect you as a looming dread fills within. “Maybe Joonie.” You sigh. Perhaps he was right and you could get to the bottom of the harsh treatment. You don’t know how much longer you’d be able to handle it after all.

Your mind takes in the cityscape that eventually comes to a halt as the taxi completes the destination to your hotel. This is it.

Check in was rather easy. What you didn’t realize however, was that your room was nestled between Jungkook’s and Jin’s; Namjoon being across the way from you all, about a 2 minute walk. As you and Namjoon parted ways, a small scoff escapes your body while you notice a tall, pierced figure whizz by. Jungkook. Damn him.

“Y/N! You made it safely!” Jin beams as he gives you a tight hug. An oak like musk engulfs your nostrils as he lets you go. Jungkook spins his head around to watch your interaction with his right hand man.

“I did. The flight was honestly lovely. I’m going to check into my room and get some rest.” You warmly respond as you point towards the sleek oak wood door. The bold numbers 1015 staring right back at you.

“Well looks like my room is right next to yours!” Jin then gestures his hand towards the door with 1017.

“We should be getting ready for dinner.” Jungkook interrupts and states towards Jin rather emotionless, interrupting the two of you. Shit. Of course there was a dinner tonight between the higher ranks within the company. How could you forget?

“Well hello to you too sir.” You snarl, both boys taken aback by your response. You were never one to show any negative emotion towards others, but you’d had enough of this foolishness. The now quiet atmosphere, while laced with tension, is torn as the sound of your door unlocking interferes, leaving the two boys behind in the hallway.

This was going to be the longest week of your life.

Jungkook couldn’t deny that the way you bit back, brewed something within him. He never thought he’d see the fiery side of you to be quite frank but boy, did he enjoy it. He craved more of it, and quite frankly, so did his friendly neighbor nestled within his jeans.

As your silhouette disappears behind the door, Jin gives Jungkook a slap upside the head. Jungkook knew he was in the wrong, trust me he did. He just couldn’t help himself at this point.

“Get it together. We have a dinner tonight and the last thing you should do is make a fool of yourself. The meeting takes place tomorrow. Cut the shit.” Jin growls in Jungkook’s ear before walking briskly into room 1017; Leaving Jungkook standing alone. Jin had never seen Jungkook act like this, but one thing was for certain, he didn’t take any enjoyment in the behavior.

Y/N [5:57 pm] - god I can’t take it anymore. i responded pretty rudely to him in the hallway. him and jin are right next to me

Joonie [6:04 pm] - wait u can’t be serious rn? his room next to urs?!?!?!

read @6:05pm

Your brain racks through possible explanations as to why Jungkook would book your room next to him and Jin’s? Maybe the hotel was booked? That was the most plausible conclusion you could draw, being that the hotel was rather luxurious. Regardless, you had a dinner to get ready for.

taglist!!! :

@juikmon @sassykryptonitedelusion @theternaljk @tatumrileyslover @topforsure @senaqsstuff @santiiagopopegarcia @fandems

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exhaslo · 1 year ago

Note

Here me out….Miguel x femvillian reader who gets defeated in a fight by him. She has a rough life and turned to crime just to try to do anything to better her situation…it doesn’t.

Before Miguel can take her to custody she tells him to kill her. This strikes a cord with Miguel so he takes her to HQ instead to keep an eye on her. Maybe after so time they see past their differences and bond over them having bad home lives or trauma or something.

She starts to turn her life around and Miguel still checks in on her, they have a banter and friendship despite everything.

Then maybe they fall in love confessing to each other….👉👈 idk just some sweet romance maybe smut? Honestly whatever you think.

Awe, I can totally do this. I think it would be best to keep it fluff due to how I plan on writing the beginning of this story, but hell, if I ever get time for a part 2, smut all the way!!

Also, I'm so sorry this was so late. Now that the holidays are over with, I was able to get back to requests!!!

Warning: Thoughts of suicide, depression, language, praise, fluff

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Why?

Why did everything always happen to you?

Why couldn't you just live an easy life for once?! Why couldn't anything go your way for once?! You screamed at the top of your lungs as you watched your small shabby apartment building burn down to the ground.

It wasn't fair.

What was the point of even living at this point? You had no family to go back to. No home to live at and no friends to crash with. Your job was absolute dog shit and you barely made enough to afford the apartment that just got destroyed.

Everything you owned was gone. Everything that you had was gone. All you had left were the clothes on your back. Like that was enough to survive these streets.

As much as you thought about the sweet embrace of death, you also feared it. You still wanted to live and there were still things you wanted to do. Cussing under your breathe, you decided to turn to a life of crime. How else were you going to build yourself back up?

At least you were until you got caught.

Not even on your third night of stealing, you got webbed up by the one and only, Spiderman. You tried your best not to cry because this was all you had left. You were going to steal to try and better your life and now you couldn't.

"Alright, want me to drop you off at the station or have them find you here?" Spiderman asked with a bit of sarcasm in his tone. You sniffed, unable to hold back,

"Just kill me," You begged.

--------

Miguel flinched at your request. You were sincere. Normally his enemies said that just to trick him or have him pity them, but not you. Miguel could sense how true you meant those words and how hurt you were.

"C'mon," He sighed.

Miguel had no choice but to take pity on you. How could you leave you to rot in a cell if you were going to kill yourself? It wouldn't be heroic of him to do so. That and Miguel would probably eat himself alive at the thought of you being dead because of him.

Instead, Miguel was going to take a different approach with you. You seemed harmless enough, that and you were clumsy. Obviously, you had never stolen anything before and it showed.

Watching you follow him defeated, Miguel let out another sigh. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder before swinging off. You weren't even complaining, just whimpering and sniffling. Honestly, Miguel might have to put this in the list of saddest captures.

By the time he reached HQ, Miguel made sure to use a secret entrance. He informed Lyla to keep everyone out of his office as he brought you inside. It was fair to say that you looked confused, yet amazed.

"This is the Spider Society, it's where every Spiderman and woman from every universe come to help stop a common goal."

"Common goal?" You whispered, taking in the scenery of the city from a large window. Miguel brought you attention back to him,

"Classified. Think of it as a hang out," He said instead and motioned you to follow him, "I will allow you to stay here under certain conditions."

------

Was this really going to be your second chance at life? Who would have thought Spiderman was this generous to someone like you? You had expected him to just toss you in jail since you've never actually seen the hero kill anyone.

You were ready to die.

Listening to all of Spiderman's conditions, you just agreed. What other choice was there? At least he was giving you a place to stay, even if you were going to be watched the whole time.

"I'll check up on you every day to see how you're keeping." Spiderman added as he showed you a room. You just furrowed your brows, avoiding tears,

"Why are you doing so much for me? You just met me..."

"Because I don't want you turning around and killing yourself. It's my job to save people, and that includes you." He said honestly. You nearly shuddered a breathe,

"...Thank you..." Was all you could whisper.

"If you need anything, just call for Lyla and she will inform me of anything you need."

"Thanks...but...how did you know-" You were cut off as Spiderman revealed Lyla and a hologram of your burnt down apartment building, "Wow."

"Just let me know."

Right as Spiderman left, you finally felt the weight of everything come crashing down. You fell on your knees and started sobbing. This was not how you expected the night to go, but honestly, this could be for the best.

Who knows, maybe Spiderman will give you a reason to live after all.

-------------

You had been staying at the Spider Society for a few weeks now. Spiderman aka Miguel, had been helping you get back on your own two feet. The two of you had been getting comfortable with each other to the point where Miguel revealed his identity.

And lord did you feel like it was love at first sight. You had already started to fall for the masked hero with just his wit and personality alone. It was a great surprise to see that matched with such a handsome face.

The only thing you were worried about was if your feelings were one sided. Miguel always checked up on you, making sure that you weren't still down in the dumps. Honestly, some days you were, but they grew less thanks to him.

Today, you were feeling great. Thanks to Miguel's help, you had gotten a job and finally saved enough for a place of your own again. This time in a better location that won't burn down so easy. There was no need for you to go back to stealing.

"I heard you were apartment hunting?" Miguel questioned as he entered your room. You felt your cheeks flush as you stared at the handsome man,

"Um....Yea...I've done so much better thanks to you."

"Do you not like it here?" Miguel whispered as his eyes soften towards you.

"I do, but...aren't I a burden just being here all the time?"

"No," Miguel sat beside you, glancing at the website you were on, "I just think that it's safer here. I can take care of you...if you don't mind," His voice grew lower as he looked away.

"Miguel..." You felt embarrassed to ask, but hell, he was acting strange as hell too, "Do you want me to stay?"

"..." Miguel stayed quiet for a moment, "Yes."

You couldn't stop your heart from racing as the two of you stayed quiet for a moment. You were shaking from nervousness. Perhaps, Miguel did like you back? Trying to control your breathing, you hesitating grabbed his hand,

"T-Then...I'll stay," You said, nearly stuttering on your words.

Miguel fixed his hand to intertwine with yours. He scooted closer to you and finally faced in your direction. You nearly squeaked, surprised by how close he was.

"(Y/N), you're such a clumsy thief," Miguel said with a sigh as he cupped your cheek and stole your lips with a kiss, "But, you're my thief...If you'd let me have you."

"Yes." You said so fast with no hesitation. Rolling your lips inward, you watched as Miguel just stared at you before laughing, "W-What I meant was...I-I am totally fine with, garh, stop laughing at me! I'm nervous!"

"Sorry, sorry," Miguel chuckled softly as he stroked your flustered cheeks, "I promise to take good care of you, (Y/N)."

You huffed your cheeks out slightly, "How on earth can I take care of the one and only Spiderman? This seems a little unfair." You said with a whine. Miguel chuckled once more,

"Just...be there for me like you always are,"

Confused, you went to look at Miguel, but he stole your lips again in another kiss. You closed your eyes, melting into the kiss before Miguel had to break it due to an anomaly. He let out a heavy sigh and stood,

"Dinner?"

"By the beach?"

"That place is so greasy," Miguel grumbled. You just grinned from ear to ear,

"I'll be ready when you get back."

"It's a date then."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

AGAIN SO SORRY THIS WAS LATE!!! I'M TRYING TO COMPLETE THE REMAINING REQUESTS I HAD LEFT!!!!!

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!!

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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lemotmo · 3 months ago

Note

Tired. Also heads up on the inbox stuff.

Q. How are you not upset or freaking out right now? This is not good in any way!!!

A. Okay so this is the last anon message I'm going to answer at least until after the episode. If you want to spiral in my inbox you are going to have to do it with your name. So for the time being anon message capability has been turned off. As for this ask, there is no part of this that is bad news in the grand scheme of things. Am I annoyed by it? Yes. Is it the laziest way to get there? Yes. But it's also objectively hilarious because he's not the one. None of this is about him. So while I am annoyed about how stupid this whole thing is, I also understand what they're doing with it. At this point I genuinely don't know how anyone can be confused by the storyline they're telling here. Episodes 9 and 10 exist in canon. They didn't occur accidentally. Buck is going to try to take an ex home to EDDIE'S house and attempt to have sex with them IN Eddie's bed. The entire thing is about Eddie. And it's objectively hilarious given who the rumored ex apparently is. The spiraling is baffling to me. They could be planning their wedding and someone somewhere would post a dooming speculation post and some of you would crash out immediately. I genuinely don't understand this pattern. Media literacy is a thing. We, and the journalists I might add, didn't invent the stuff we've been seeing since last season. Olive teased a slow burn. He teased wanting a will they/won't they. Welcome to the party people. Relax and let the story unfold. It's going one way and one way only. This part might suck but it's entirely temporary.

Thank you Nonny!

Yeah...

We haven't seen the episode yet, so I'm still cautious on whether or not these 'leaks' are true. So take all of this with a grain of salt.

First of all I owe an apology to the Nonny that came into my inbox a few days ago, talking about the exact scenario from those 'leaks' and that that might happen. I thought it was a ludicrous idea, but if this leak turns out to be true tonight, it will still be ludicrous but fact. So, wherever you are Nonny, I'm very sorry. I was wrong. It has happened before and it will no doubt happen again.😽

I agree with Ali all the way. I'm not angry, just confused by this show's insistance to continuously write up very strange scenarios when it could have been so much easier. But whatever? 🤷‍♀️

You all know that I was already convinced T would be coming back to play the last act in his plot device arc, but I didn't think the show would take it this far. I suppose Buck is having his own little crazy Vertigo moment here. It is what it is.

I'm not upset. I am going to get through whatever it is they'll show us of this very bad decision, because I know there's a light at the end of this tunnel. The man is head over heels in love with his best friend and if this is the way for him to realise it? Well, c'est la vie.

It'll all be part of buddie's 'will they won't they' romance. This truly is the slowburn to end all slowburns.

Silver lining? At least he didn't bring home someone else and we'd have to go through the whole cycle of people jumping ship going 'OMG Buck and that random woman/man' were perfect for each other. They are soulmates' phase. Better stick with the annoyance that we know than to add new unknown and unpredictable annoyances to this fandom.

Everyone should be watching this episode though. Don't let T stop you from watching and enjoying Buck's first moment of realisation in 7 seasons. Don't let T stop you from watching Buck crash out over Eddie. Don't let T stop you from exploring more strange Bobby lore. Most of all though... don't let T stop you from enjoying Aisha's directorial debut. It'll be wonderful if we could all support her as she deserves.

So I'll be sitting down tomorrow morning to watch the episode, as unspoiled as possible at this moment. I never open any social media on Friday morning and happily watch whatever story is about to unfold.

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

#anonymous blog I love #nonnies galore #buddie speculation #911 8b speculation #911 spoilers #911 leaks and predictions #caution: take this with a grain of salt #because the leaks have not been confirmed in any way

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heykoonsy · 1 month ago

Text

Word Count: 4.3k+

Pairing: Lance McClain x Keith Kogane

Summary: It’s the summer before Junior Year. Lance McClain is sixteen, and when he isn’t Skype-ing Hunk at Robotics Camp, he’s writhing in agony over a soul tattoo he’s never really been fond of. He longs for the day that it will stop…until it does. Lance struggles to accept who fate has chosen for him, grappling with his own expectations and hopes for love.

Notes: In a First Words Soulmate Tattoo AU, the two love birds get a matching set of tattoos when they enter puberty. The tattoo is nothing but the first words your soulmate says to you. There are countless theories regarding how placement, font, and tattoo pain play a role in the fated pair’s romance.

Content Tags: Soulmate!AU, SoulTattoo!AU, Romance, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Minor Original Characters, High School Setting

Author's Note: Hey, sorry for the delay in posting this! I was helping a friend of mine move to their new home. Welcome to the first chapter of SoulHate! which funnily enough, got its name because I was using the working title: The Klance SoulHate!AU. Another note about this work is that dialog that has been italicized is spoken in Spanish, but since I don't know Spanish, this was my happy medium. There are a few instances where a word is stressed and that is the only time that the above does not apply. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Welcome to My Life

Lance turned over onto his right side, desperate to get any and all pressure off of his left hip as quickly as possible. He winced, blinking away the exhaustion from his eyes and probably a few tears as well. Lance threw off his blanket as gently as he could. If he accidentally bumped his hip bone the Lord would have to call him home. And he wished that was just an exaggeration. With a shaky hand Lance pulled up his grey tank top and looked at the cause of the pain he was receiving on this bright and sunny summer morning. His tattoo was acting up for the millionth time since he got it with old-lady puberty. Lance traced the lines of the words he’d been branded with at thirteen years old. They were haphazardly drawn—invoking a sense of discomfort and anger with just the font. He’d stared at these words for the last three years just imagining what kind of person his soulmate would be. From the looks of his tattoo, she had a biting attitude, not to mention her vulgar language.

Lance’s mind was teleported back to the day he got his tattoo—how he’d cried out in pain so bad in the nurse’s office that the school had to call his parents to pick him up. He could still hear his mother’s voice as she tended him in the driveway of their house.

“My goodness, Lance! Look at these words! She’s so rude, talking to you this way.” She moved her hands along his left arm to comfort him in the back seat.

Lance sniffed and wiped at the tear tracks on his cheeks. “What does it say?” Lance asked her after he was calm enough to form words.

His father chimed in at that point, settling behind his mother,Angella, with an unwrapped orange Popsicle. “No one is using that kind of language.”

“Thank you, Cedro,” she said with a stern tone as she took the popsicle from his waiting hand.

“You’re not going to touch it, right?”

“No, no baby.” She offered the popsicle to Lance. “Aunt Amillia Rose says that orange popsicles help with the pain. Eat it,” she smiled and then removed herself from the car.

“Why does it hurt so bad? Tracey’s didn’t hurt this bad did it?”

“No, Lance. Tracey’s tattoo was in a less sensitive place,” his father tried to explain but it only left Lance more confused.

Lance was brought back to reality as another wave of pain crashed over him. It was like someone was spreading hot glue directly onto the skin of his hip. Lance groaned as the stinging subsided for a brief moment. He caught his breath, unaware that he’d been holding it in the first place. Deep down, Lance knew what this renewed pain meant.

His tattoo was reacting to his stress. Again.

Lance learned from his parents that soul tattoos were how fated lovers found each other. How the tattoos bonded the two forever regardless of race, gender, poverty, beauty or age. His parents were probably one in a million success stories, which meant they were also blind to how Lance felt on the subject. It seemed that his mother and father could ignore the pain and uncertainty that came with the permanent “love dowsing-rod”. If Lance were honest—which given his personality type, he usually wasn’t—he thought of the soul tattoos as nothing more than a burden. There was nothing he found miraculous or life changing about being in unbearable, unstoppable pain twice in one lifetime—and in his case, even more. But, the pain would be almost okay if Lance were able to know more than just his soulmate’s first words to him.

If he could get a name, a face—heck, even a minor detail like preferring hot chocolate or coffee or winter over summer–that would be great. Something to gauge whether or not the universe was playing a literal cosmic joke on him. It wouldn’t be so bad if he knew what he was getting into—and the “have faith in fate” vibe his parents gave off didn’t reassure him as much as it set a barrier between the three of them. There was a chance Lance’s soulmate wouldn’t love him. Maybe she would make fun of his ears or his taste in music. What if Lance were picked on for being associated with whoever he got paired with? In the middle of reliving his anxieties, Lance remembered his mother and Auntie Mabel consoling his cousin Cleo after she got home from a pool party in her freshman year of high school.

Lance had been in the mud room when Cleo opened up to their moms about why she was upset at dinner. He was grabbing a new shirt since Cleo dumped her water down his front. He hid, keeping himself flat against the ajar door as he eavesdropped on the three of them. Lance heard Cleo spill that the girls that invited her to the party had pulled off her t-shirt and showed the boys the soul tattoo on her back. Not even her friends came to her aid. Everyone just laughed.

“I don’t want to have this crappy tattoo anymore,” Cleo spat, her voice hoarse from stifling her sobs so they didn’t echo through the house. “I get made fun of whenever people see it.”

“No, no, no! How could you ever want to ignore such a blessing? Those girls just don’t understand that love is sometimes embarrassing,” he heard his mother say to a sniffling Cleo.

“Yeah, Cleo. Your tattoo is unique and beautiful. If you let anyone tell you otherwise, you are teaching them that their backwards way of thinking is acceptable,” Auntie Mabel said. She pulled on Cleo’s arm, hugging her close to her chest and patting her head. Cleo continued soaking Auntie Mabel’s blouse with tears for a good five minutes after that.

There was one thing that Lance took away from that conversation. It definitely wasn’t that he should be proud of his soul tattoo. Instead, it was to never expose himself to scrutiny and criticism. Never would he be the one called odd or irregular for his tattoo. That included his partner, whoever she may be.

Lance looked down at his tattoo and wondered if the pain was really gone. He pressed a clammy hand to the inflamed patch of skin discolored black by ink. He sighed and rose from his bed. With that over, Lance rotated his legs left and his bare feet struck the tops of his fuzzy blue slippers. Lance palmed his phone which was resting on his bedside table, charger connected and flashing a happy battery percentage. He checked the time first. Eight o’ clock on the dot, exactly thirty minutes before he could message Hunk on Skype. Lance put on his slippers and, with phone in hand, he strolled out of his room and towards the bathroom. He had time for a quick shower—enough to wash off the grubby feeling his soul tattoo’s resurgence had caused. Maybe he’d put on a mud mask while he dried off. Anything to eliminate the stress he was feeling.

Lance entered the bathroom which was just a quick walk down the hall. But it was occupied judging by the light underneath the door. Lance knocked quickly, gravity aiding in telling him how much he needed to pee.

“Yes?” Lance heard Nino’s small voice call from inside.

“Nino, I’ve gotta pee,” Lance said. “Are you done?”

Instead of answering, Lance heard the shuffling of a plastic stool and the click of the doorknob opening. Lance looked down to where his little brother was standing, toothbrush in hand and blue foam all over his mouth.

“Come in,” Nino said as he grabbed Lance’s arm and then returned his blue stool to the front of the sink.

Lance closed the door and walked over to the toilet, pulling down the waistband of his pants. He stood there for a little bit, listening to Nino as he obsessively brushed over every tooth he had. Once he was done, Lance flushed and went to the sink. He stood behind Nino and turned on the faucet to rinse off his hands. He rested his chin on Nino’s head and sighed, looking at himself in the mirror that his little brother was still too short to see into. His hair was a mess from all of his rolling around last night—and his eyes looked even worse. They practically gave away the fact that he was dead tired and annoyed at the world.

“You look like poop,” Nino said as he spit out some of the foam in his mouth. A waft of bubblegum came off his breath.

“I’m gonna tell mom you said that,” Lance threatened.

Nino got quiet. “Meany.”

“You’re the meany,” he said and then backed away from the sink after turning off the faucet. “I’m gonna take a shower now, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Nino then began washing off his toothbrush and flushing out his mouth with water. When he was done he jumped off his stool and wiped off his mouth on Lance’s shirt.

“Bye,” Lance said almost angrily.

“Bye.”

When Lance came back from the bathroom it was eight twenty-four and he was already clad in his blue bathrobe, had a towel on his head, and his face was slathered in a mud mask. Lance sat in the swivel chair at his desk and fired up his laptop before spinning it around a few times. He stopped when he heard the tell tale chime of the login screen. He entered his password and that quick he was firing up Skype. Lance looked at the time at the bottom right hand of the screen. He had exactly five minutes until he could call Hunk.

Currently, his best friend was at this fancy robotics camp he went to every year since sixth grade. It was a whole four weeks of sad, hug-less, Hunk-less summer poured right down the drain. But every year before he left, Hunk reassured Lance that he could Skype him every morning and every night at eight thirty. Breakfast ended at eight-thirty which meant the campers, i.e. Hunk, had thirty minutes of down time before that day’s activity started. The same thing happened at night before lights out. When Lance looked back down at the clock, it was prime Hunk calling time.

Lance clicked on his contact list and pulled up Hunk’s name. Another click and his laptop was already trilling. Lance looked towards the door of his room and swiveled over to make sure it was shut before he started his conversation. When he got back Hunk still hadn’t answered. The last time he’d done this, it had taken Hunk eight minutes to find a private enough spot in order to talk to Lance. Everyone crowded the cafeteria and the Wi-Fi wasn’t nearly strong enough to connect him outside. Once, Hunk had to build a blanket fort for some solitude for one of their calls. But, as it stopped ringing, Lance learned that Hunk had found a spot rather quickly.

“Okay, so I know this is an odd place to carry out a conversation, but this place is insane when it comes to privacy,” Hunk said, his voice slightly echoing from the bathroom stall he was in.

“Look man, I’m not the one in a public bathroom, I’m not complaining,” Lance said.

Hunk looked suspicious for a second. “Wait, why aren’t you complaining? And what’s with the mud mask?”

Already Lance had been caught. “My tattoo’s been killing me since last night. I haven’t gotten much sleep,” he admitted. After all, he couldn’t lie to Hunk. He’d deduce it sooner or later and it would be better for Lance if he didn’t jump to conclusions.

“Really? I thought you looked rough.”

“Oh my God, thanks.” Lance put a hand to his chest, making a show of calming his heart from the flattery. “That’s what every guy wants to hear.” He sent a sarcastic eye roll loose in Hunk’s direction. “But yeah, I know what you mean. I guess a boiling hot shower can’t wash away everything.”

“Probably not. You might want to hide from your mom for a while.”

“Yeah,” Lance said before he winced. He grabbed his hip out of habit. “Ouch.”

“I am so not envious, dude.”

“So how was your morning?”

“Definitely less painful than yours,” Hunk said as he chuckled. “We had breakfast pizza today. No one started a food fight, which I have a feeling you were counting on. Oh, there was some juicy gossip that I heard today.”

“Okay, first of all, don’t talk about food. I can’t go downstairs for nourishment just yet. Also, I am mad about the food fight. Didn’t I tell you that you had to initiate one before the end of your stay?”

“Yes, you did say that. But will I?” Hunk put his hands up.

“Wait, what was the juicy gossip?”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow.

“The juicy gossip, Hunk, who do you think I am? Tell me all of it, every detail.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay, well apparently someone got kicked out of camp today for hacking the camp website. Every thirty seconds, there would be a cluster of asteroids raining down the page. It was one of the girls here. Her name was…Sarah? Sam?” He looked perplexed for a moment but then he got back on track. “Anyway, I heard it from Micah.”

“Your nerd friend!” Lance announced with recognition. “I mean that in an endearing kind of way, I hope he knows that,” Lance said as he leaned on his elbows.

“He does, actually. I told him all about you.”

Lance’s face lit up. “Because I’m great?”

“Because you are a pain in my neck.”

“A great pain in your neck?”

Hunk sighed with a wide smile taking up most of his face. “Yes. So are you going to tell your parents that your tattoo is hurting again?”

“And open that can of worms? No, thank you. Tattoo pain has two causes: stress and as a gauge for when you are going to meet your soulmate. I think I’d rather spare them from the false alarm.”

“True. What have you been stressing over lately?”

Lance leaned back in his chair, huffing at the invasive question. “The usual. What I’m going to have for dinner tonight, why the sky is blue, why people aren’t worshipping me as a deity…I could go on.”

Hunk knew that he’d gotten defensive and dropped the topic, as he normally would. “Sounds like fun. Anyway, I’ve gotta go. I don’t want the smell of the bathroom lingering on my clothes. I have to keep myself looking nice in case I meet my soulmate.”

Lance laughed and then watched as Hunk signed off. He felt his stomach drop as he looked down at his mouse pad. Again with that soulmate thing. He always got antsy whenever his tattoo started hurting. Lance sat up in his chair and shut down his laptop. He stood, and with a swipe of his hand, Lance closed the lid of his laptop. It was nearly nine, which meant that his mother was probably helping Uncle Raymón at the shop, his dad was at work and Aunt Amillia Rose was watching Amada and Nino. Sweet. No one was around to interrogate his exhausted self—breakfast was feasible. Lance could already picture the Frosted Flakes sitting in a heaping bowl glistening with milk. His mouth watered so bad he had to snap it closed. But before that—Lance prodded at the mud mask to see if it was completely dry. Alright, so breakfast would be delayed by a few minutes. No problem.

Big problem. Very big problem.

Lance was sitting at the end of the table, opposite his parents who were being especially cuddly this afternoon—for whatever reason. He’d only been half paying attention to the conversation that everyone but he and Amada were taking part of. The other half of his attention was preoccupied by an intense pain in his waist. That’s right, ladies and gentleman. His stupid soul tattoo was trying to out him right in front of his family. The betrayal. Lance tried to keep himself from wincing by wiggling his legs underneath the table. He looked around for a moment to distract himself from the searing pain overtaking his nervous system. To his immediate left—Amada—who had to sit on two pillows in order to see her food on the table. Beside her, her mom, Aunt Amillia Rose. To his immediate right, Nino. Next to him was their father. At the head of the table his mother spoke to Nino.

“What’s on your mind, Nino?”

“I was thinking about your soul tattoo, mama, when am I gonna get mine?”

“In a few years. You just have to be patient,” his father explained.

“I don’t want to wait.”

“Nino, do you see Lance making a fuss out of his soul tattoo?”

Nino shook his head. “But Lance has one. How did you get yours?”

Lance’s eyes shot to Nino. Oh, he was asking their parents. Thank God.

“Well, I got mine when I was twelve but your dad got his pretty late.”

Aunt Amillia Rose laughed at this. “Are you going to tell the whole story? I thought I’d heard it enough.”

Angella pulled out her right wrist, where there was a small cursive inscription right over the veins there. “My tattoo hurt when I first got it, so much that I cried to my mom and grandma about it. They told me to stop complaining.”

Amillia Rose sipped on her water. “You were so mad at them that you put dirt in their shoes.”

“I was in pain,” Angella said, fitting an escaped curl back behind her ear. “But when I was eighteen, she and grandma gave me the most beautiful bracelet. And I carried it on me for years—until the day the loop broke and I lost it while walking around the beach.”

“Did you ever find it?” Amada asked; her voice so quiet Lance could barely hear her despite the fact that he was sitting next to her.

“Of course, baby girl! I was nineteen, my wrist had been burning for what seemed like days, and I was trying to enjoy the beautiful weather when someone tapped me on the shoulder.” Angella looked over at Cedro, her eyes getting teary for just a moment. She brought her wrist up again, looking longingly at the words before reading them aloud.

Cedro beat her to the punch, already reciting the words as if he’d repeated them to her every day. “Ma'am, I think you dropped this.”

“He’d watched it fall off my wrist just a minute before. I was so lost in the crashing waves and wind I couldn’t hear him trudging after me.”

“And when I finally got her attention, it was like the ocean was singing to me. After I showed her the bracelet she shouted her gratitude and my heart just burst.”

“My bracelet, thank you!” Angella shouted like she had all those years ago. Of course, now she didn’t have an entire ocean to drown out.

“Your Mom and I have been together ever since, Nino. So when we tell you to be patient, you must listen. Your tattoo will come and you too will meet your soulmate.”

Lance stopped paying attention when another tremor of pain shook him to the core. He looked down at his hip, begging the pain to stop for just another ten minutes. When some of the pain subsided, he glanced up at his family. Their eyes were glued to Amillia Rose, who was telling a story about her and Angella’s early childhood. Lance faced his plate, his untouched meal staring him in the face. He’d have to finish them quickly if he had any hope of escaping his family’s concerned looks—

“Lance, you’ve barely said anything. What’s with the silence?” Amillia Rose asked.

Lance resisted the urge to look up towards the heavens and scream: why me? Instead, he looked at his aunt with a smile on his face. “Nothing, I’ve just been thinking.”

“About?” His father asked.

“Since Hunk is at Robotics Camp I don’t know what to do with myself.”

The table seemed to nod in unison before starting up another conversation. Thank the sweet Lord above. Lance started to shovel rice into his waiting mouth, desperate to get out of the dining room. He patted himself on the back for his quick thinking—the only downside was that now they’d ask for favors since he didn’t have anything better to do. With the current state of his soul tattoo even doing the dishes seemed too daunting of a task.

Ten minutes after Lance finished eating he was at the front door, shoes on, his older brother’s blue hand-me-down hoodie hanging low on his waist. He was staring at the front door, hand already gripping the doorknob. He listened quietly, ears straining to hear which of his family members was walking out of the living room and towards him. When he heard them stop just behind him, he turned around with a smile at the ready.

“An after dinner walk?” Aunt Amillia Rose asked, her smile escaping in her voice.

“Yeah, ten minutes tops.”

“Sounds good.” She sighed, shoulders relaxing for a moment. “I’ll be putting the kids to bed. See you.”

Lance watched her disappear up the stairs, sundress swaying with the motion of her steps. He turned back towards the door, shaky perspiring hand opening it before his tattoo gave another hearty try at derailing his progress at not being found out by his nosy family. He shut the door as quietly as he opened it and breathed in the crisping summer-night air. He looked to his right, where a yellow street light lit up his path down the driveway and onto the sidewalk. Lance put his hands in the pockets of his shorts, trying his best to calm down. He tried to rationalize things for himself. His tattoo was just hurting because he was stressed about his tattoo hurting. There was nothing to be worried about. Aunt Amillia Rose dealt with this all the time—tattoo pain was nothing to be worried about. He’d just eat an orange popsicle and explain that he’s been worried about the new school year. Yeah. Except it was August and he hadn’t even gotten his schedule in the mail.

Lance wondered if instead of all this lying he could just be honest like Cleo was all those years ago in the dining room. Maybe his mom and dad would tell him that it was okay to worry about his soulmate and not pressure him into loving who he was paired with. Maybe Aunt Amillia Rose would give him tips on how to reduce the seemingly limitless pain he was in whenever his stress spiked like this. Lance sighed, realizing that although he hoped for something like that to happen, he knew his parents too well. Although Aunt Amillia Rose would do anything to help him, she was also devoted to her sister and wouldn’t keep any secrets from her. And he didn’t think he could sit through another talk with his dad after the birds and the bees incident in middle school.

With a quick shiver, Lance found that he’d stopped walking—instead he’d just been standing outside a vacant house, bright white For Sale sign gleaming in the moonlight above. He looked up at where Mr. Nichols lived before the remnants of his family put him in a nursing home. There was a tree in the front yard, the branches of which sprawled all over the front lawn. There was a porch connected to the front of the house where Nichols would sit and watch the birds all morning. Now, in the dark, it seemed eerie. Like the house knew that it had been empty for a while and was heartbroken. So lonely that it waited forlornly until morning, when the sun shone on the tree and the birds woke and sang to keep it company.

Lance was about to turn tail and return home when the skin on his hip started to reenact the Great Fire of London. He grabbed his tattoo with his left hand and struggled to hold himself up with the For Sale sign with his right. He took in a deep breath, eyes watering as he refused his body the chance to cry out.

This was supposed to be a calming walk! What was he doing wrong!?

Lance lowered himself, sure that a quick breather would set him straight. He sat there, back against the sign, both hands now covering the burning flesh of his hip. He took deep breath after deep breath and finally things seemed alright. Above him, the leaves stirred in the breeze that waltzed down the street just like he had. Of course the wind was less of a mess than he was at the moment. Lance tried to picture what he must look like right now, resting against a stupid For Sale sign, hands hidden, eyes wet and cheeks streaked with tears he couldn’t stop. How drab. Not his usual picturesque self—that’s for sure. If his family saw him like this he was sure that they wouldn’t recognize him. Probably not even Hunk. Okay, that’s a dirty lie. Hunk would recognize him even if he were in a different body. That’s what friendship since middle school rewarded you with.

Lance sighed again, and it didn’t take an ounce of weight off his chest. He guessed that it was time to go home. This walk hadn’t helped him after all. So Lance got up from where he was sitting on Mr. Nichols’ old lawn and stumbled his way down the street towards his house. When he got there he’d have a nice warm bed to look forward to. And an empty room since his older brother Tracey moved out a few years ago. Not to mention the kids would be getting ready for bed so he could spend as much time as he wanted writhing in agony.

[ MASTERLIST ] [ TEASER ] [ NEXT ]

#SoulHate!#SoulMate!AU #SoulTattoo!AU #Romance #Slow Burn #Enemies to Lovers #Klance #Keith Kogane #Lance McClain #Voltron

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calissarowan · 6 months ago

Note

If you were to remix the cannon ships, who would end up with whom?

P.s. SIS is my freaking life!

Ooh…now that’s a fun question! Also, wow, thank you! I’m so happy you like it! You have no idea how excited I got to read that! I am in fact writing the next chapter right now! (Hoping to get it up tomorrow or the day after).

Remixing the canon ships…I assume you just mean the Winx and the Specialists…people I’d like to see together…I’d love to see Bloom and Riven give it a go. I think that’d be fun, though they’d probably crash and burn later on, but they’re both impulsive, they’d kick ass for each other, no questions asked. Plus, despite all his faults, I don’t see Riven as someone who’d ever risk making Bloom feel uncomfortable, which Sky did a number of times in the comics, about her socioeconomic background. Plus, I don’t think wherever Riven comes from is a great family environment, so bonus points for him getting Mike and Vanessa in the deal. Also, Bloom and Helia could be fun…the impulsive spitfire and the calm guy that’ll stay chill and keep her calm right up until it really counts, and then he’ll be her badass protector. That’d be awesome. And…Bloom and Stella. They’re besties but I can see them making out and getting married just as easily! Plus, Brandon and Bloom just because…he’s just this very sweet guy, and I can see them being cute. And in the first season then she’d have stress around him because he’s a prince and she’s not a good match for a prince and he wants to tell her the truth and then he gets to tell her on his own time and maybe it’s their secret and they date in secret cause the prince is officially engaged.

Tecna and Timmy are so incredibly cute that I can’t really bear to split them up, but that’s the game, so let’s play…Tecna and Riven could be fun, more friendship vibes, really, but I can see her straight-talking nature being very good for him. Timmy and Flora, they’re both quiet with a love for science, computers and biology respectively, and I can see them being very cute and introverted together.

Helia and Riven could be cute. So could Flora and Riven. (Riven’s surprisingly in demand.) Flora and Sky could be cute, they have some nice moments. Maybe Helia and Musa, though I can’t fight the feeling that they’d have fun making their art together, but Musa would just be a bit much for Helia.

Aisha and Musa. I want this, I love this already, wrote them as canon in a discontinued fic, love it. Nabu and Riven, too. These guys got each other’s partners. They got all mixed up and confused.

Musa and Brandon. I like this idea, to be honest. I think Brandon could handle Musa having some flirtier, more dramatic behaviour much better than Riven, and maybe his nonchalant attitude towards it all would help her not overreact to so much. Also, he’s quite the gentleman, which I think she’d like. Riven and Sky, too, that’d be cool. I honestly would love to see them as enemies to lovers. Riven x Nabu is my favourite for cute vibes, but this is my favourite in terms of how much fun it’d be.

Stella and Bloom, as I said, plus, Stella and Timmy, they just…I’m not sure they’ve ever really interacted, but I think they could have so much cute potential! And Brandon and Sky, that’d be cute, I can see them going from bromance to romance, no issue.

So, in summation, if I’m remixing all the ships so everyone gets a new partner…I’m gonna pick the ships I think would be most fun.

Aisha x Musa

Riven x Sky, then they later break up because they just get on each other’s nerves, and Riven falls for Aisha’s arranged husband, so Riven x Nabu endgame

Flora x Sky after he and Riven break up, and she gives him a nice, more relaxed relationship

Bloom x Brandon (because it’d make season one way more fun)

Stella x Timmy, just…just for the fun vibes. That’d be so much fun, I’d love to see him get introduced to her parents.

I can’t really think who of the remaining cast to pair Tecna and Helia with, since…well, I don’t think they match very well. And I won’t push them together for the sake of it, so they can be single, but Helia already has an obvious thing for Krystal, so he can get together with her, and Tecna…anyone remember Orion from season 8? I only just remembered him, but actually, they could be cute. And so that is my remixing of the ships, and my preamble ramble! Thank you very much for the ask, and your comment about SiS made my day! And happy holidays!

#winx club #winx bloom #winx sky #winx stella #winx brandon #winx flora #winx helia #winx nabu #winx aisha #winx tecna #winx timmy #winx riven #winx musa

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theanxiousfireblossom · 2 months ago

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Trigger warning, I mention SA in this post in relation to an unhealthy relationship. It’s not explicit or anything, but it is there.

Easily, Marissa Meyer has had an absolute death grip on my life the last couple of months and I gotta say she has become like, my favorite author. This is easily because of the relationships she writes.

I haven’t finished the Renegades trilogy yet, but I am almost finished with Archenemies, and this book has had me squealing in delight. Oscar and Ruby just have such a cute dynamic where it is obvious to everyone but each other, and comes from a place of such big respect for the other person. They both recognize the good, fun attributes they like about the other and both struggle with the “I don’t know how to tell them, I am not even sure of my own feelings” mentality. It’s fantastic.

Then there is Adrian and Nova and, just, yeeeees. In a lot of ways they remind me of Scarlet and Wolf from the Lunar Chronicles. Like, they are both immediately attracted to each other and it’s a very passionate and deep love. So deep, Nova has considered straight up just abandoning everything she was raised with, which is kind of the whole reason they met. I also like that, unlike Scarlet and Wolf, it takes some time for them to get on the same page, and I love me my dense babies that can not take the most obvious hints they are given. It makes me super excited to get to Supernova and see how it is going to crash and burn at least somewhat.

Going back to Scarlet and Wolf, they just have so much chemistry and are adorable. I was in love with the speed inferno that was their whole relationship. I also saw someone else say this, but I love how secure they are in their relationship while being equally possessive of the other person in a not toxic way.

Then there is Cinder and Kai, and I give Marissa extra brownie points for this one cause, not gonna lie, I really was not sold on the relationship at the end of the first book. I thought the flirting was cute, but especially when Kai said she was harder to look at than Levana I was like “BRUH!!! She has been through so much, don’t even!” BUT, the end of book three really sold it to me. Having an honest conversation, giving the needed and well deserved hugs, it was perfection.

Winter and Jacin is childhood friends to lovers. Literally, what more could we ask? I do also love the undertone of “as you wish” vibes from the Princess Bride. I also liked that Jaxon’s side of the romance would have 100% get in the way of massive, revolutionary plans, and the only reason it didn’t was because Winter was like “no”.

And, it may have broke me, but Cath and Jest. It was a quick fall, but I loved that neither fell in love at first sight. They were definitely attracted at first sight, but it wasn’t until they had several longer interactions that they both were like “I am in trouble”. And then the sacrifices they make for each other is really fun to think about. Jest gave himself up after they returned from the sisters that first time, Cath ran away with him at the ball, sacrificing literally everything that’s important to the gentry, then Jest sacrifices his life, and Cath basically does the same in order to avenge him. It was a destructive love, but one I was rooting for nonetheless.

Then there is Levana and Evret, and this one stands out because it is so toxic. It really shows that there are unhealthy, unhappy relationships out there. Levana’s love was built on this idea she had created out of loneliness, and she wasn’t willing to give it up for anything at first. She clung to it so much she harassed and SAed Evret. She manipulated him and forced him into a marriage he did not at all want. Then that is followed with her killing him in order to further her goals for Luna. It is not healthy and Marissa never acts like it is supposed to be, and I really appreciate that.

Another I love that nearly all these relationships have in common was they never forgot their goals. Romance was not the goal, and often times takes a back seat to their actual goals. Cinder is starting a revolution, Kai is usually not on her mind, or at least, not enough to distract her from what she is doing. Scarlet is looking for her grandmother and she even gets mad at herself for flirting while her grandmother is missing. Cath wants to open a bakery, Jest needs her heart to stop a war. Nova is busily trying to tear down the Renegades before her uncle dies.

Each relationship is unique and so lovable that I just want to root for them to have a happily ever after.

I gotta say, of the books I’ve read so far, only Cress and Throne fell flat for me. I love both characters individually, but I just wasn’t sold on the romance. I think it just comes from a place of realizing I am not as forgiving as Cress and having a partner who habitually flirts with everything that moves would just be too hard for me to accept. I love how much they trust each other, but her jealousy and his flirting just didn’t make for a believable combination in my opinion. No hate to anyone who does love them though. They have their moments and I won’t deny that.

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askcoltonmiller · 2 months ago

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Creature here. Wowwwww, looks like you did such a great job listening to what I had to say. And by great job I mean terrible job. Seems like you looked at some of it, decided I wasn’t saying what you wanted to hear, and decided to ignore the rest.

Listen… I honestly want to help you. But you don’t want to listen to anyone’s advice at all.

Dude, I just… you do know no healthy kind of love can come out of obsession, right? Even if, hypothetically, you and jimmy were “destined to be together” (I don’t really believe in destined love stories, but that’s besides the point)—

Anyway, even if you were hypothetically meant to be together… to do so during rehab? In the middle of a divorce? When you guys are both fragile mentally? There is no way this would turn out well. I don’t think any relationship would turn out well if started under these circumstances, regardless of how compatible and meant to be the couple was. You gotta work through your own stuff before u can start a new relationship.

Because that’s how it works for literally everyone. If the wounds of a toxic relationship are so fresh and not healed at all, started a relationship like that, you’re just going to project the same issues onto it. If Jimmy and you were meant to be, the best thing to do to ensure your relationship wouldn’t crash and burn is to wait until you’re both doing better.

And if you and jimmy were to have a successful relationship, you need to work on that obsession first. Dial it back. In real life obsession isn’t cute or romantic. It’s unhealthy, and it’d make any romance crash and burn.

So, if you really do care about jimmy and if you really want things to work out between you two, you gotta figure out how to do it in a healthy way. Cuz this, the way things are? Is not it, bro.

Sincerely, a creature

Of course I’m not listening to anyone’s unsolicited advice. Why would I when you all are plotting against me? One of you anon’s said it yourself, you’re invested in Jim and his ex. If that wasn’t the case, my ask box wouldn’t be full of death threats and people pleading for me to leave Jimmy and Grant alone.

Yes, I understand, both of us have been in really shitty relationships and we need to heal. I get that… but I really think that me and him could heal together. Now that we’re separated and the facility and all of you assholes are keeping us apart, he’s going to fall into old habits… or even worse… Grant’s open, conniving arms.

People who don’t experience the consequences of their actions learn they can do things over and over again and get away with it. Grant will leave, break Jimmy’s heart, and Jimmy will go back to drinking. Do you think I’m being evil for being extremely concerned that this man who sent Jimmy to his lowest point is the man you all are rooting for?

I have something Grant doesn’t: drive. My goal is to make sure Jimmy can safely navigate his addiction after rehab, to ensure he has a support system, and to fill that void that Grant left when he abandoned him here.

If Jimmy ends up with him again, I’m not going to be okay. I swear to god I will throw Grant Curly to the fire if he ever lays a finger on Jimmy ever again

#adj au #colt talks #mouthwashing oc #mouthwashing ask blog #askdrunkjimmy #tw rehab #tw stalking

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sarawritestories · 1 year ago

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I'd love to know more about Unwavering Presence!

@hellodarling1357 a sneak peek of this Cassian series awaits!

Unwavering Presence is a slow-burn Cassian x Archeron Sister (Reader) romance that will have many parts if I have anything to say about it. Y/N is Feyre's twin who ends up going to the Night Court and falling in love with our General of the Night Court. This will follow their love story from her perspective and how she finds his presence as something unwavering even in the darkest of times and it is going to get angsty.

And here is a Sneak peek that will take place in the middle of our story(and will probably be changed by the time we get there) but shows how I want to put a spotlight on his Loyalty and love for the people he is close with:

The sunrise was shimmering over Velaris another day had gone by. Sitting in the armchair looking out through the window I was beginning to lose track of the days. This body was new to me and all the heightened senses that came with it. Now that I was able to use them I could only muster up enough energy to get out of bed and on this chair. At least my room had a beautiful view of the city proof that things could still be beautiful.

There was a crash followed by yelling outside of my door that caused my whole body to tense and my eyes to squeeze shut. The shouts were growing louder and a whimper escaped my lips as I covered my now-pointed ears. The door slams open and I open my eyes in time to see Cassian shutting the door and putting a chair under the knob preventing, Feyre and Rhys, whose voices were now carrying down the hall, from coming in.

Cassian slowly took a step into the room his face pained, "Princess, I'm not going to hurt you." I slowly lowered my hands and wrapped them around my knees as he took another step. I averted his gaze held worry and looked out over the city hoping the tears would swallow back down. His voice was closer, "They wouldn't let me see you. They said you had asked them to keep me away."

A tear escaped as he took the seat next to mine. I turned my head so he wouldn't see the tears falling. I closed my eyes but his presence wrapped me in a warm embrace that made me want to fall apart. The pounding on the other side of the door subsided but I knew they were on the other side one word and they would throw Cassian out with no hesitation.

"Y/N please look at me." His plea came out as a choked sob. I lifted my head turning to face him and I took a sharp intake of breath as tears streamed down his face. His Hazel eyes met mine and he straightened in his seat and tried to compose himself and gave you a small smile reaching out his hand not touching me but to let me know I could take it if I wanted. "There's my brave girl."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach at the sentiment, I cleared my throat, "Hi."

Cassian lit up at the sound of my voice, "We don't have to talk about what happened. I just wanted to see you." I looked at his outstretched hand, "They wouldn't even let me ask about you, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

I absentmindedly slid my hand into his and I could feel him still for a moment before his fingers gripped my hand, as though I could disappear at any moment. "I don't think I could talk if I wanted to, Cas," I whisper as my gaze moves from his face back to the city.

Cassian hummed in response and I could feel his eyes lingering. His finger tapped against the top of my hand. He did it once more, then twice, three times until I looked at our intertwined hands. "You don't need to say anything, Sweetheart, not until you are ready." My eyes met his and he gave me another warm smile that caused the butterflies to stir again. "But don't push me away. We can do a daily check-in no words necessary." He holds up our hands and he taps once on the top of my hand, "One tap is 'How are you doing?'" He taps twice on the top of my hand, "Two taps is 'I'm not okay I need you close,'" He taps 3 times, "Three will be 'I'm not okay but you can go'," he taps 4 times, "Four will be 'I'm okay but I would like you near'". He taps my hand 5 times, "Five taps will mean 'I'm okay you can go'," He taps my hand 6 times.

Tears threaten to escape as I whisper, "What does six taps mean?"

He grips my chin and has me look up at him. "Six means, 'I'm here. I'm with you. You are not alone.'"

Tears freefall down my cheeks as he swipes them with the pad of his thumb, as I look back out of the city gripping his hand in mine.

We sit in silence for a few moments before I adjust my hand and tap his hand twice. I'm not okay, I need you close.

He taps my hand six times, I'm here. I'm with you. You are not alone.

#cassian acotar #cassian x reader #acotar #acotar fanfiction #cassian x you

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verai-marcel · 2 years ago

Text

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 1 of 27)

Summary: Not every adventurer wields a weapon. You, a hearth witch living near the banks of River Chionthar, are witness to a craft falling from the sky, and wondering if anyone needed assistance, ran down to find survivors. That was your first mistake. Going along with the survivors on their crazy adventure? That was your second mistake. Will you survive your next mistake of letting a hungry vampire bite you?

Author’s Notes: Full disclosure: at this point, I’ve only played through act 2 without romancing Astarion. So why the fuck am I writing some wholesome Astarion x F!Reader? Because I’m dumb and got spoiled on Youtube, and now I can’t stop thinking about the poor guy. Also this is heavily influenced by a couple of wholesome manga (“Life in Another World as a Housekeeping Mage” and “The Forsaken Saintess and her Foodie Roadtrip in Another World”), but I won’t be writing an isekai. You (reader) are from Faerun like everyone else. I’m just here to have some wholesome feels and hurt/comfort. Let’s go go go.

Tags: wholesome, cozy camp time, Astarion x F!Reader, slow burn, good alignment, BG3 Spoilers

Chapter Word Count: 1,843

Ao3 Link here, Darling.

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Act I, Chapter 1 - The Beginning

You are a hearth witch, living on the banks of the River Chionthar, making potions and herbal remedies for the small villages nearby. For the past three years, you’d been happier than you’d ever been in your life. You loved helping people, but you made sure not to reveal your real name, nor why you always wore long sleeves and gloves, even in the middle of summer.

But the nearby villages had been emptying as of late. News of the goblin camp that recently appeared nearby had first scared off the traveling merchants, and then the locals. You realized that you too should leave, otherwise you’d either have no more customers or goblins on your doorstep. You only had a dagger and a few spells that did little in ways of actual damage, so defending yourself against a horde of enemies was out of the question. So you began to pack up, figuring out what you could bring with you, and what needed to be repurchased once you reached your new home, wherever that might be.

On a warm sunny day, you decided that this would be your last day here. Your pack was filled, your cottage cleaned out. Tomorrow morning, you would take off to the east, following the river to the next closest town. For now, you decided to grab a few more ingredients for the road, and so, you were out by the river bank, gathering fresh herbs and mushrooms.

A booming sound followed a strong gust of wind that whipped around you, twigs and grass flying everywhere. Then you saw a ship crash nearby, the land and water being torn asunder, debris flung in all directions. After the chaos died down a bit, you went to go check for survivors. You couldn’t, in good conscience, walk away if someone might need help.

That was a poor decision on your part.

The first survivor you found was a young, dark-haired woman, passed out on the shore. She seemed standoffish, but after helping her up and giving her a drink from your waterskin, you convinced her that the best thing to do was to get out of the area and rest at your cottage while she regained her bearings.

A little while later, the two of you came upon the strange sight of a single arm, sticking out of a glowing purple rune. You and the young woman, Shadowheart, pulled the poor man out. He introduced himself as Gale, and also joined your party.

As the three of you continued back to your cottage, you came across another stranger. Skin as pale as marble and hair to match. Had some scars on his neck. Perhaps he got them on the ship? He seemed harmless enough. Another escapee of the craft that fell from the sky.

That is, until he tricked you into looking for something in the bushes.

If only he hadn’t touched your exposed neck with his bare hand. Then you wouldn’t have felt the fear, underlined by a desperation you knew all too well.

The leash is cut.

It made you empathize. And that was one rule that had been burned into your mind at a young age.

Do not empathize with the enemy.

Fortunately, Gale and Shadowheart talked him down from stabbing you. The man even apologized to you, though it seemed more for show than for sincerity.

Astarion was his name. He introduced himself with aplomb and decorum, and your hackles raised at the sight. A noble.

After a bit more conversation, they agreed that their shared affliction was enough of a reason to travel together and find a cure.

Swallowing down your general prejudice against nobles, you ignored him and made small talk with the others as you led them back to your cottage.

***

Your cottage had only one room, enough space for your bed, some storage for herbs and tools, and a work table for your alchemy. Most of your things were packed, but you pulled out enough to take care of your guests.

The yard to the side of the building was set up as a small campground for travelers to rest. You had figured out a couple years ago that for a small fee, traveling merchants would gladly rest on your land where it was safe, while you made them fresh, nourishing meals and cast spells on their bedrolls to make them feel warm and comfortable. You even managed to get a small tub built in the back to provide a warm bath for an extra fee.

It had been a lucrative idea, one that made you enough money to be quite comfortable out here in the sticks.

You may only know a few cantrips, but you had manipulated them beyond what most people did. Your mending cantrip could fix whole swaths of cloth, your prestidigitation cantrip could keep bedrolls warm all night, or baths hot for hours. It was why you had several repeat customers, traveling merchants who would alter their routes to come to your place to rest.

You told them of the surrounding area and cooked a meal for them, a simple stew with seasonal vegetables and herbs.

The noble said he wasn’t hungry. You supposed your poor peasant food wasn’t to his taste.

He can suit himself.

While the others were eating, you set up the campground. While you were quietly casting the comfort cantrip on each bedroll, you sensed someone watching you.

“Yes?” you asked, biting the inside of your mouth to keep from being snippy.

Astarion stepped closer to you. He remained standing, looking down on your kneeling form. “What an interesting way to use prestidigitation.”

You shrugged. You had nothing to say to a noble. You finished your spell and started to shuffle over to the next bedroll, but he remained standing in your way.

“Do you mind?”

“Not at all, darling.” He didn’t budge.

You let out a short huff and crawled around him. One bedroll left. Ignoring the man, you began the cantrip.

By the time you finished, you looked up to see all three of them watching you.

“What?” you asked, a little disturbed by the attention.

“I hadn’t thought to use that cantrip like this before,” Gale said as he knelt down to touch the bedroll. “How long does it last?”

“All night,” you responded, feeling a little proud of yourself.

Shadowheart was already crawling into the bedroll. “This feels amazing.” She buried herself into the cloth. “It feels like I’m sleeping on a warm cloud.”

Gale shrugged and followed suit. “Gods, you’re right.” He sat up and looked at you. “I don’t know how you manipulated that spell, but it’s absolutely brilliant.”

You felt a zing of joy. Your little custom cantrip impressed a wizard!

The noble watched you for a few more moments before he too, crawled into a bedroll. His eyes widened slightly. “Oh. My, this is rather comfortable.”

You jutted out your chin, but refrained from being too catty about it. Instead, you switched to being polite.

“Sweet dreams,” you said to everyone, and went about cleaning up around camp. By the time you were done, the three of them were fast asleep.

***

The motley crew thanked you and took off in the morning to explore the area, seemingly never to return.

You looked around at your unpacked things, and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to start off tomorrow morning instead.

Your plans were sidetracked once more, however, when the group returned that evening with a fourth member, grouchy and prickly as a threatened porcupine. After a couple of bowls of your herbal soup, she became a little bit less prickly. Lae'zel was her name, and she punctuated her Common speech with her Githyanki tongue. You found it a bit endearing, the way one finds a stray animal that always hisses at you endearing.

You cast a warming spell on their bed rolls once more, burned incense to keep the insects away, and made sure they were all comfortable in your little camp area outside of your cottage before going to bed.

The next morning, you got up early to make breakfast for them before they left to explore the ruins that they had found the day before. As you checked your rabbit traps, you noticed one of them was tripped, but the rabbit within was a mere husk, as if it had been dehydrated.

Curious.

You reset your trap and returned to camp.

“What’s that?” Shadowheart asked when she saw the husk of a corpse in your hand.

“A dried up rabbit.”

“That doesn’t sound appetizing,” Lae’zel remarked.

You shrugged. “I can at least sell the pelt later. Sorry, you’ll have to make do with another vegetable stew tonight.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “That is, if you’re coming back here.”

The four adventurers looked at each other.

“I think we’ve taken advantage of your hospitality long enough,” Gale said. We’ll start heading west from here.”

***

The group had finally left, and you had finished packing. You had been delayed by their arrival, but no longer. They truly seemed gone now, with the sun setting and no sign of their return. Tomorrow for sure. Tomorrow, early in the morning, you would set off—

You heard your name being called. Off in the distance, you could see Gale, waving sheepishly at you, followed by the others.

You sighed. Biting back your annoyance, you smiled and waved back. A customer was a customer. At least this group was entertaining, and quite generous with their gold. And this time, they brought you back some boar meat.

There was one new face, a man with a stone eye. He introduced himself as the Blade of the Frontiers, Wyll. He seemed nice, charismatic even. Someone who had the manners of a noble but the heart of a commoner.

They set up camp once more in your yard, and you unpacked just enough of your supplies to make them a meal.

"You look like you're ready to go on a journey," Gale commented as you all sat around the campfire, eating a boar roast with herbed potatoes.

"I'm moving. Many people have moved away because of the increase in goblins in the area, and a lot of my business has dried up. And having goblins this close doesn't make me feel all too safe."

“Any plans on where?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I was just going to travel until I found a place to settle.”

"Well, why don't you come with us?"

Everyone looked at Gale in shock, but then they all looked at you.

"You do make camp much more comfortable," Shadowheart finally said.

“And one of us would be standing guard at camp as well, so you would be safe,” Wyll added.

You saw no reason to decline. You liked most of them, save for one snotty noble. A constant flow of income would be nice, for once. You negotiated a decent wage and agreed to head out with them at first light.

That, dear hearth witch, was your second poor decision.

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Chapter End Notes:

Yeah, I basically made up a “hearth witch” class as a combo of druid, wizard, and cleric, but hey, welcome to Dungeons & Dragons, where homebrew classes happen all the time. Hope you enjoyed the fic! I'm actively working on the next chapter!

Update 4/4/24: All chapters are here!

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #astarion #astarion x F!Reader #slow burn #female reader #baldur's gate 3 #your hearth is my home

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paintstainedpages · 3 months ago

Text

Unravel

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × OC (Her)

Genre: Psychological, Dark Romance, College AU

Chapter 2: The Psychology of Influence

>Chapter 1

The shrill beep of her alarm cuts through the silence, dragging her out of sleep. She groans, reaching for her phone with half-closed eyes, blindly swiping at the screen until the noise stops.

For a few seconds, she just lays there, staring at the ceiling, reality slowly settling in.

Presentation day.

The thought jolts her fully awake. She sits up, rubbing the sleep from her face. Two months of research, late nights, endless revisions—all leading up to this. She’s ready. At least, she hopes she is.

Across the room, her roommate Noa lets out a muffled groan, rolling over and shoving a pillow over her head. “No,” she mumbles into the fabric. “Too early for life.”

“You have class in an hour,” she reminds her, swinging her legs over the bed.

“I have a class, Daphne. Doesn’t mean I’m going.” Noa’s voice is thick with sleep, but there’s still an edge of dry sarcasm to it.

Daphne snorts, already used to this routine. “I thought architects were supposed to be disciplined.”

“We are. That’s why I spent the last 48 hours in the studio, and now I’m embracing my right to be a human disaster for the next twelve hours.” Noa peeks at her through sleep-mussed hair. “Wait. Shit. Isn’t today your big presentation?”

“Yep.”

Noa blinks, then gives her a slow, approving nod. “Well. Good luck with that.”

“Wow. Incredible support.”

“Hey, if you crash and burn, I’ll be the first to tell you how aesthetically tragic it was.”

She rolls her eyes, heading to the mirror and tying her hair into a low ponytail. “At least you’re honest.”

“Honesty is my only redeeming quality,” Noa says, flopping onto her back. Then, like an afterthought, she adds, “Oh, by the way, I went to Felix’s frat house last Friday.”

That gets her attention. She turns. “Why?”

“Because I enjoy suffering.”

Daphne smirks. “And?”

“And Felix was perfect, as always,” Noa sighs dreamily, then immediately scowls. “His friends, on the other hand? Assholes. As always.”

She snorts. “What did they do now?”

“Chris,” Noa says, tone flat, “spent twenty minutes explaining to Felix why ‘monogamy is a scam’ and ‘men aren’t meant to settle down before thirty-five.’”

She winces. “Felix didn’t agree, right?”

“No, of course not. He literally just sat there looking like he wanted to evaporate.” Noa sighs dramatically, draping an arm over her eyes. “I don’t get it. How can someone as golden retriever-coded as my boyfriend willingly associate with feral sewer rats?”

She shakes her head, suppressing a laugh. “Maybe he’s trying to be the good influence.”

“Felix is one person. It’s like tossing a flower into a dumpster fire and hoping it’ll purify the air.”

Daphne hums in response, but Noa’s words linger.

Felix is a good guy. Probably the best guy Noa could have ended up with. But the world he exists in—the late-night parties, the beer-soaked couches, the guys who think loyalty is a punchline—it’s a world that doesn’t fit him.

And yet, he stays.

Just like Noa stays. Just like people stay in places they don’t belong, hoping that, somehow, they won’t get burned.

The thought sticks with her as she grabs her laptop, slipping it into her bag. She doesn’t have time to analyze it. Right now, she has a presentation to give.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Daphne walks fast, flipping through her notes with one hand, her bag slung over her shoulder. The morning air is crisp, cutting through her sweater, but she barely notices—her mind is too busy cycling through the key points of her presentation.

Social influence is often invisible. People don’t realize when they’re being manipulated. It’s in the way language is framed, in the way someone can bend reality without ever lying. It’s why entire crowds can believe a fabricated truth if it’s repeated enough.

She mumbles parts of her speech under her breath, dodging clusters of students on the sidewalk. She’s got this. She’s practiced. But still, the nervous energy coils tight in her chest.

Coffee. She needs coffee.

She crosses the street to Thistle & Brew, the small coffee shop tucked near campus. It’s quiet this time of morning, just a few students tucked into booths, nursing their first caffeine fix of the day. The warm scent of espresso and vanilla fills the air, a welcome comfort.

And of course, Josh is behind the counter.

“Morning, superstar.” He grins the moment he sees her, already reaching for a cup. “The usual?”

Daphne huffs a laugh, setting her notebook on the counter. “Is this what we’re doing now? Nicknames before caffeine?”

“Hey, you look like you’re about to deliver the most important speech of your life,” he teases, scribbling her name on the cup. “Figured I’d set the tone.”

“More like a two-month-long descent into stress,” she mutters, rubbing her temple.

Josh leans on the counter, pretending to inspect her. “You know, I think you might need a celebratory coffee instead. Something sweeter. More exciting. Maybe even…” He gasps dramatically. “A caramel drizzle.”

Daphne shakes her head, smiling despite herself. “I think I’ll survive with my usual.”

He clicks his tongue in mock disappointment but starts making her drink. It’s been like this for weeks—his casual flirting, the easy way he throws in a joke, how he remembers the smallest things about her.

She notices. Of course, she notices.

But she doesn’t entertain it, doesn’t encourage or reject it outright. It’s not that she doesn’t like Josh—he’s sweet, charming in a way that isn’t overbearing. It’s just that she spent years being someone’s girlfriend. A part of something. And right now, she wants to exist on her own, to figure out who she is outside of being a half of a whole.

Josh doesn’t push. He never does. Maybe that’s why she still comes here every morning.

“Alright, serious journalist,” he says, sliding her cup across the counter. “This one’s on the house. Good luck.”

Daphne blinks. “Josh—”

“Don’t fight me on this,” he grins. “Just make sure your speech includes a dramatic mic drop.”

She exhales a laugh, shaking her head as she takes the cup. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are, starting your mornings with me. Almost like fate.”

She lifts the cup in a mock toast. “Or just caffeine dependency.”

Josh smirks but says nothing as she turns to leave.

As she steps back onto the sidewalk, the warmth of the cup seeps into her hands, grounding her. The nerves are still there, but now, there’s something else too.

Something steady.

She takes a deep breath, refocuses.

Time to show them what she’s been working for.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Daphne stands at the front of the lecture hall, the weight of a hundred eyes on her. She can feel the hum of the projector behind her, the faint buzz of fluorescent lights overhead. Her heart is steady, but her fingers grip the edge of the podium a little tighter than necessary.

This is what she’s been preparing for. Two months of research, hours spent refining every argument, making sure each point lands exactly as it should.

She exhales, steadying herself.

“The Psychology of Influence: How We Are Manipulated Without Realizing It.”

She clicks to the first slide. A simple image—an old black-and-white propaganda poster. The kind designed to convince, to shape perception.

“Influence is rarely obvious.” She lets the words settle in the air for a moment before continuing.

“Most people think manipulation is loud. Aggressive. That it looks like deception or coercion. But the most effective kind is subtle. It doesn’t force you to believe something—it makes you think you came to that conclusion on your own.”

She shifts to the next slide: a side-by-side comparison of news headlines, the same event framed in two entirely different ways.

“We see it everywhere—politics, advertising, social media, even personal relationships. Influence isn’t just about what’s being said—it’s about what isn’t. It’s about framing, omission, repetition. You don’t have to lie to manipulate. You just have to tell a story in the right way.”

She glances up, scanning the room. A few heads nod. Others are taking notes. Good.

She flips to the next slide. The Milgram Experiment. A case study in authority, obedience, and how easily people can be led to do things they never imagined themselves capable of.

She’s in her element now. The nerves fade, replaced by something sharper. She knows this topic.

But then—

A hand raises in the back.

Professor Langley nods. “Go ahead.”

A guy leans back in his chair, smirking slightly. “But don’t people want to be influenced?” he asks. “I mean, we let it happen all the time. We like when things make sense, when someone tells us what to think. Isn’t that just how humans work?”

Daphne tilts her head slightly. “You’re right,” she says, pacing a little. “We’re wired to want certainty. It’s uncomfortable not knowing. But does that mean we should stop questioning?”

He shrugs. “If it works, does it really matter?”

She exhales through her nose, tapping a finger against her notes. “It matters when people stop recognizing it for what it is. When influence isn’t about information, but control. When it stops being about truth and starts being about power.”

A girl a few rows down speaks up next. “Okay, but what about relationships? Aren’t we all influencing each other to some degree? Persuading people, shifting perspectives—what’s the difference between influence and manipulation?”

Daphne smiles slightly. She was waiting for someone to ask that.

She moves to the next slide. Gaslighting: The Fine Line Between Influence and Control.

“The difference,” she says, voice calm but firm, “is intent. Influence can be neutral—even positive. But manipulation is about power. It’s about making someone doubt their own reality. Making them think they made a choice when really, that choice was never theirs to begin with.”

The room quiets for a second.

Langley steps in. “So, would you say true manipulation isn’t just about what is said—but what is left unsaid?”

Daphne nods. “Exactly.”

Langley hums approvingly. “Alright. Let’s continue the discussion.”

She exhales slowly as she steps back from the podium, letting the conversation unfold around her.

The hard part is over.

She should feel relieved.

But for some reason, the conversation lingers in her mind longer than it should.

The choice was never theirs to begin with.

It sticks to her like something she’ll need later, like something waiting to become real.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

#hyunjin #hyunjin fanfic #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #hyunjin x oc #hyunjin series #hyunjin drabbles #hyunjin angst #stray kids oneshot #hyunjin x reader

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copias-juicebox · 2 years ago

Text

It's a Sin Chapter 1

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 Part 4

So this is my small story. I have no idea what i want to do with it but some of you kindly showed some interest in reading this. Special thanks to @thatoddgirl1035 and @unrealistici. So please leave me some comments how you liked it or what i could improve. Feel free to contact me to talk about the plot as well since i have no idea where i wanna go exactly. INSPIRE ME PLEASE. lol

So the Main Idea behind this fic is that reader is the child of the local priest of a christian church. And reader has been raised the old catholic cristian way of course with all it's flaws.

This part is sort of just to set the scene and stage. Reader is still a child here and meets a young copia who at this point is still a Bishop. He is of course quite a bit older here than her so expect an age gap for later chapters as well. Reader will be in their mid 20ies in the fic and copia will be in his 50ies.

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x fem! Reader Words: 3000 something Genre: romance, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, SLOWBURN Warnings:runaway girl on the loose, explicit languge, violence, abuse, age gap, smut (in the upcoming chapters blabla)

It was a summer night. What started as a beautiful summer day ended up in a cold and wet storm. The heavy rain and thunder that haunted the small town you called your home was rumbling loud and you just ran. You ran as fast and far as you could. Your town was surrounded by mountains and woods. It was a rather small town, one where you rarely ever saw strange faces around the place. You kept running, barefoot in your nightdress. There was no destination you were going and you just let your feet carry you to wherever they liked.

You felt lost. Utterly lost. At this point you could no longer tell if your face was wet because of the rain or your own salty tears. Everything was a blurry mess. You lost every orientation you had. You felt numb, and deaf running, just running until you could no longer. Not even feeling your feet that must have been aching by now. You just did not feel a thing anymore.

It could have been minutes or hours since you‘ve ran from your parents house. You lost every sense of time by now. Only when your lungs burned did you stop. You stood in the middle of the woods by now. Every feeling of guilt, shame and sadness came like a tidal wave, crashing down on you at once. The feelings you tried to suppress for so long now were overwhelming you and all you wanted was to be swallowed by the wet ground you now broke down on. Your silent sobs became louder but there was no one to hear you. Not with the heavy thunderstorm washing down every vibration from the air surrounding you. You curled up on the ground, hugging yourself as you cried out.

From between the branches of the thick treeline a dark figure stared in your direction and found your crumpled form laying on the ground.

„Hello there little one. Are you okay? Are you hurt?“ a soft, deep voice startled you out of your daze. „Oh I am sorry darling, I did not mean to scare you.“ the voice chuckled. You turned around and came to see a man with a strange face kneeling beside you. Your eyes widened and you rubbed your eyes since his face was all blurry.

He had dark circles around his eyes, hair on the sides of his face and a mustache above his lips. It should have scared you but he had a calming aura that put you at ease and you just stared at him with your bloodshot eyes. The stranger smiled softly at you encouraging you to speak. „I.. I am okay.“ you hiccuped, voice small. „Then why are you lying outside in the cold, little one? I don‘t know if you have noticed but it is raining and thundering here and you will catch a cold if you stay here like that, eh?“ the man had said. You stared at the man with big eyes, not knowing what to do so you just stayed still. „Come on now get up. You cannot stay here like that.“ With these words the man extended his hands to you to help you lift you off the ground.

He saw your hesitation and smiled down softly. „I won‘t bite, little one. I swear on the dark one.“ This strange man must be one of the evil people your mother had warned you about. He spoke of the dark one. One of the reasons why you were never allowed near the woods. Because the evil people resided there. In your head many thoughts whirled around. All the bad stories you had heard about these people, doing bad deeds, sinning, sacrificing animals and even humans. It all scared you but yet the man in front of you seemed harmless, offering help even. In fact he was treating you with a kindness you longed for all your life. Against your better judgement you took his hand and let him pull you out of the puddle you sat in. Only then did you realize how bad your feet hurt and how cold it actually was.

„Oh my you are freezing little one. Come on and let me bring you to our ministry. You can have a hot cocoa there. Only if you‘d like that of course yeah? I always find myself feeling much better after a good cup of hot cocoa.“ he said taking off his cloak that he put around your shoulders, wrapping you up in it to keep you from shivering all the time.

He lead you through a smaller passage between the trees and you walked next to the man holding his hand when his voice rang one more time in your ears. „Now would you tell me your name little one?“ It only fueled your internal battle more since you knew you had to be careful. Your parents would probably lock you away in your room for months, making you pray to god for forgiveness. For forgiving you any contact to the evil people from the woods. You were still very young but you were not stupid. „No I cannot tell you my name. You are a stranger and my mama always told me not to trust strangers.“ you tried to sound confident.

The man next to you looked down at you and chuckled. „Ah I see. Well that is not even wrong but tell me why are you accompanying that stranger to a strange place, eh?“ At that you looked down to the ground and stopped walking. The man turned to you and knelt down again. He looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. „You see little one I know you have no reason to trust me and there is nothing I could possibly say that would make you believe me. You are right to be suspicious of strangers for many of them have bad intentions. But we. The place we are going and the people there are not of this kind. I will promise you to bring you back to whereever you want to go or leave you alone should you wish for me to leave you alone. I could even call your parents or the police if you want me to but something is telling me it is probably because of them that you ended up here in the first place?“

You stared down at your feet and kicked a stone to the side of the path. He nailed it. Only a few minutes of talking to this man and he already knew the reason of your flight into the woods: Your parents.

„I see there is truth to what I assumed. Now I am going to ask you again do you want to come inside and warm yourself? I won‘t be mad if you don‘t. But I also want you to know that I will be listening to you if you want to talk.“ he smiled down softly at you easing your nerves a little. Whatever your parents had taught you the man in front of you seemed to be calming you in a way you have never experienced before. It was all very strange especially when he only said so little. „Whatever you decide you should probably hurry. It is not getting any warmer is it?“ he said looking up into the dark clouds. By now he was drenched. Just as you. You decided to trust your gut and took his hand in yours.

The two of you walked a few more meters before you saw it. A huge dark place. Circled by a fence. That must be that „ministry“ he talked about earlier. The house was looming over you. It had an intimidating effect on you, with the dark clouds and occasional lightning striking down. It was massive. The building and the grounds were covering a large area right in the middle of the woods.

He lead you inside where you were met with an odd looking figure. He wore a mask and opened the door for you. When the masked man saw you he looked at you curiously, tilting his head to the side. „Off you go Swiss. Do not scare our little guest now will ya. Oh and start the fire in my office will you?“ the man holding your hand shooed off the masked one. „I apologize for them. They tend to be a little rude sometimes. They are just not good with human interactions. Now let us go to my office. You need to dry and get your cocoa." He said leading you down the hallway, to where the masked one hurried off to.

He turned a few corridors and opened a big door to a big office space. Stepping inside you saw the man from earlier rise to his feet from the fireplace and staring at you once more. You just stared back at him. He was so odd behaving. „Thank you Swiss now please can you ask Sister Helena to bring us two cups of hot cocoa?“ The masked man nodded and left.

„Okiedokie little one you need to warm up now. Here take the blanket and hand me back the robe. You might want to sit closer to the fire, yes?“ he said with his thick italian accent.

When you had yourself wrapped around the blanket and sat in front of the fire for a few seconds you could already feel your cold frozen limbs warming up. You did no longer feel stiff and rigid from the cold. The man draped his drenched coat over a chair and pulled it to the fireplace. Then he opened up his gloves and took them off laying them next to the coat. You noticed the crucifix on them making you realize that indeed these were the bad people you should not talk to. But so far they have treated you with so much kindness you were confused. „Now do you feel better, bella?“ He sat down next to you. You nodded still unsure what to say. „Do not worry, no one here will harm you. You have my word. And after the cocoa you might feel a bit more comfortable talking eh?“ He smiled goofily.

You wondered if you could just ask him the many questions you had in mind. But you feared to speak freely. Your parents never seemed to like when you spoke freely, openly, whenever you had questions. And you had many questions. You were an overly curious child.

His warm smile made you feel secure enough to try though. „What is your name sir?“ A look of surprise flashed over his face. „Oh where were my manners all this time. I did not even tell you who I was. My name is Copia. Bishop Copia. Pleased to meet you, nameless one.“ He bowed down a little making you giggle at his overly silly actions.

It warmed the Bishops heart to see the young girl giggling and smiling genuinely for the first time. She was a cute child not older than 7 or 8 and it made his heart ache knowing that someone must have hurt her deeply for her to run into the forrest under the conditions he found her in. She was in fact lucky that it was him who found her but she did not need to know that. She was safe now and he would make sure she would safely return home as soon as he made sure she felt better.

„Nice to meet you too Copia.“ you answered not bothering with stuff like titles and all. The past few minutes you spent with this strange Copia person you felt increasingly comfortable around him. It made you more confident so you decided to just try to get answers to the thundering questions that formed in your head each time you looked at him.

Playing with your fingers you asked „Can I ask you a question Copia?“ you prompted with a look of uncertainty in a barely hearable manner, slightly scared he would punish you like your parents always do when you ask them.

To your surprise he seemed to encourage you to ask him. „Certo piccolo. Whatever it is you would like to ask please feel free to do so yes? I will answer you honestly.“ „Oh“ you answered a bit surprised „uhm.. are you sure is it not too much?“ you stammered, taken aback by the earnestness in his tone. „Of course little one. It is good to ask questions. You should always question things yes? Proves that you have a brain and are trying to understand the world around you. It only shows you are an intelligent young girl.“ the bishop said in his accent.

„Uh and what if it involves people?“ you asked shyly. „Oh especially if it involves people. You should question their motives and backgrounds. It is a way of self preservation no? To make sure you are not fooled around.“ Just as the Bishop was about to speak once more a knock on the door interrupted you. He got up and opened the door. You heard hushed voices and then the door clicking shut again.

When the Bishop came back to you he placed a cup of heavenly smelling hot cocoa in front of you. „There you go cara.“ He patted the space next to the cup.

He sat back down next to you in front of the hot cracking fire. The hot cup warmed your hands even more and you took a small sip from the cup. The hot liquid ran down your throat and warmed you from the inside. It made you feel utterly exhausted and you felt yourself getting drowsy with each passing second when suddenly Bishops voice rang through the silence of the room once again. „So what did you want to ask about young one?“ You sat up right again hesitating once more to ask your questions.

„Well I was curious. This is a religious place isn‘t it?“ The Bishop raised one eyebrow looking at you. „Yes it is indeed.“ he answered nodding. „But you do not worship god. You worship the devil.“ Once again he nodded but stayed perfectly calm. You expected him to get mad at you to maybe even hurt you or kick you out of this place. Instead he surprised you even more. „I know you probably heard many bad things about this place and us. People usually do not like the devil or those who swore to him. But I can assure you that none of that is true. We are not evil. We do not do evil things in the name of Satan.“ he said nonchalantly, taking another sip of his cocoa as if it was nothing special for him to speak about these things.

„But if you swore to him isn‘t it true that you do the devils work? And the devil is bad everybody knows that. He hurts people and causes suffering and pain.“

Copia chuckled hearing that. „Now now is that what you have experienced? Did anyone in the name of Satan ever hurt you? Caused you suffering and pain? Or did somebody merely tell you these things so that you stay on the ‚right‘ path? Their path?“ He used his fingers exaggerating the word „right“.

That stunned you silent. Indeed no one from the Satanic Church had ever done you any harm. Quite the opposite actually so far they seemed to be ok. But you had merely had one encounter with members of this church now so who were you to judge.

The Bishop cocked his head to the side and looked at you. He was quite fascinated with you. „You are an intelligent little girl I see that. You are asking the right questions now do not let anyone tell you any different. Most people who will tell you that we are doing evil are people who try to control you. Who try to make you their pawn so that you will obey them.“ Copia said with his finger raised. „But my parents always told me to stay away from you people.“ you countered. Copia took a sip from his own cup now. „Ah I see your parents raised you in a christian way and they are very strong believers, yes? Tell me little one do you believe in God?“

You stared at him and answered instantly. „Yes I believe in God and Jesus Christ our lord and saviour.“ The sentence shot out of your mouth before you could even think about it. Years and years of your short life had your parents spent to burn these words into your brain. They were a part of you ever since you could remember. When it came to religion your parents were strict. There was no other way for you than become the good catholic girl that everybody expected you to be.

Copia raised one eybrow at your far to soon answer. „Is that truly your answer or your parents answer from your mouth?“ You gazed at him wide eyed. No one had ever dared to question your devotion to God. „Of course I do. My father is the local priest. How could I not believe in God?“

At that Copia choked his cocoa and set his cup down coughing violently. „Excuse me bella. Did you just say your father is the local priest?“ At that your eyes widened in fear. Only then you realized you just told the devil worshipping man that you were the child of the man that has sworn to fight his church, who has sworn to do anything to wipe them away from this town. Fear consumed you and you froze, your face twisting in horror. „Oh no no no little one do not get scared i will not harm you or your father if that is what you are thinking. It is just you see it makes much more sense now. Your beliefs and your actions and all.“ He said in a calming manner. „You see I have never seen such a young one with such strong beliefs as yourself.“ his face was only a few centimeters from yours now and he winked at you.

A sigh escaped his mouth and he finished the rest of his cup and encouraged you to keep drinking yours. When you did he kept his eyes on you contemplating. You were too young to see but he was watching your every move. He could not help himself but pity you in a way. You must have suffered so much already under the christian church in your short life. The daughter of the local priest. Copia knew you were going to suffer far more under the heavy weight of your parents' church. He wanted to help you but there was not much he could do that would not cause even more damage. Satan, he hoped that once you returned home you would not be punished for talking to him especially. It was getting quite late now and he knew the sooner you were back home the better it would be for you.

„So do you want to return to your family now? I can send a Ghoul to escort you back.“ You stared back at him in horror. „C.. Can you come with me?“ you stammered out. „Well yes of course. Now let us go before it is too late.“

Copia and the Ghoul dropped you off around the corner of the street you lived in. The rest of the way you would have to walk alone you both decided so she would not get into extra trouble at the door. Copia watched from a safe distance as the door opened and your father grabbed your arm rather harshly and pulled you inside and the last thing he saw was your father banging the door shut.

#god i am so shy posting this #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #ghost band #ghost #papa emeritus #myedit #tobias forge #ghesties #papa emeritus iv #copia #ghost sweden #ghost fic #mywriting #papa emeritus fic #copia x reader #my fic #it’s a sin

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