#and it was great!!! I was having a good time!
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blaithnne · 2 days ago
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Live Mel reaction
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leebrontide · 2 days ago
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Hey
Hey Americans.
The federal government is about to get useless for at least a bit. This is a GREAT time to get involved in state level environmental orgs. That's where you're gonna be able to do the most for the next few years. Even a bit of casual volunteering can make a big difference.
I've done this off and on for years and when we go local we WIN. And friends winning feels good. This is how a lot of progressive agendas have won in this country. The whole US isn't out of this. People ARE still fighting climate change all around you.
You could be one of those people, in community with other people who are doing something.
doom and gloom "oooh everything is pointless oooh I'm so deep and edgy because I love trying to be the death of hope" people will just get blocked. I'm not talking to your crab-bucket ass.
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elikajinnie · 2 days ago
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Soulmarked Rivalry - Y.J
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P: Slytherin!Jungwon X Fem!Reader
Requested by @bamguetismee <3 (i hope i got ur vision :3)
Warnings: Teasing, Forced Proximity, Soulmarks/Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, Tension, Rivalry, Fluff, Confessions, Jealousy, Soobin Cameo (love triangle??), Peeves being a menace.
Synopsis: As a model student and prefect, your future at Hogwarts seems set—but Yang Jungwon, a Slytherin prefect, likes getting under your skin. To make things more complicated, he's your soulmate. Should you embrace fate or resist?
a/n: HELLO?? 500 FOLLOWERS?? WAHH!! THANK YOU GUYSS! <3
masterlist
--
You had always worked hard as a student. That’s what the teachers at Hogwarts liked seeing—hardworking students with the ability to excel both in a team and on their own. And you fit perfectly. You were a model student with good marks, excellent control over your magic, and a natural ability to care for others, whether they were in your house or not. It wasn’t a surprise when you were named a prefect in your fifth year.
You carried that badge with pride. You loved being a prefect—patrolling the corridors, helping younger students, and upholding the rules that kept Hogwarts running. You loved Hogwarts, period.
Well, all except for one thing.
Yang Jungwon.
The Slytherin prefect who, despite his innocent face and disarmingly sweet smile, seemed to make it his life’s mission to drive you completely insane.
It wasn’t the usual kind of rivalry either. Sure, Slytherins clashed with other houses from time to time, but this wasn’t just about house pride. No, this was personal. It was in the way he smirked whenever he caught you on patrol, somehow managing to be just a little too late to help out when you were swamped with first-years who couldn’t find their common room. It was in the way he’d charm his way out of detentions, even when he’d been the one sneaking enchanted fireworks into the Great Hall during breakfast.
Worst of all, it was in the way he made you feel like you were the one always losing control, like you were the one who couldn’t keep your composure when he was around.
“You missed a spot,” he drawled one evening, leaning against the corridor wall as you adjusted the Ravenclaw notice board. His voice was light, teasing, like he had nothing better to do than stand there and watch you work. “Top corner. Might want to straighten it out before McGonagall sees it.”
You shot him a glare over your shoulder. “Don’t you have patrols to be on?”
He shrugged, the emerald trim of his robes catching the light. “I could say the same to you, Miss Perfect.”
Your jaw tightened. That nickname.
You turned back to the board, determined to ignore him, even as you felt the heat rising to your cheeks.
But of course, Jungwon didn’t leave. He never did.
Yang Jungwon had a way of getting under your skin like no one else could. He was frustratingly clever, sharp-tongued in a way that wasn’t outright cruel but always cut just enough to make you grit your teeth. It wasn’t what you’d expected from a Slytherin prefect. No, on paper, Jungwon was everything you were: a model student with stellar marks, impeccable spellwork, and a spotless disciplinary record.
And that’s what made him so infuriating.
Because no matter how much he teased, no matter how many snarky remarks he threw your way, Jungwon had an uncanny ability to slip through the cracks of authority unscathed. He always masked his mischief with that disarming smile, that soft-spoken charm that even the professors fell for.
“Honestly, Professor Flitwick,” he’d say with wide, innocent eyes after you’d caught him charming the suits of armor to sing off-key Christmas carols in the corridors, “I was just practicing for the Yule Ball choir audition. I had no idea they’d move on their own!”
And Flitwick, much to your disbelief, had waved it off as “creative magic.” Creative magic!
But when it came to you, he didn’t even bother to pretend.
Take the time he’d enchanted a batch of parchment birds to follow you around the library, each one whispering “Miss Perfect” in soft, sing-song voices. You’d stormed over to him in the Potions section, where he sat with his feet casually propped up on the table, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Seriously, Jungwon?” you hissed, holding up one of the parchment birds, which was now fluttering around your head like an annoyingly persistent fly.
He’d looked up from his book with that infuriatingly serene smile. “Oh? Are they bothering you? I must’ve used the wrong spell. They were supposed to cheer you up.”
“They’re driving me insane,” you snapped.
“Well, that’s not very cheerful of them,” he mused, flicking his wand with a practiced ease that made the birds disappear. Then, without missing a beat, he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. “But I’ll admit, it’s kind of cute how flustered you get when you’re mad.”
Your face burned at that, and you’d stomped away, leaving him chuckling softly behind you.
And yet, despite his constant antics, you couldn’t really catch him doing anything blatantly wrong. That was his specialty. His mischief always danced just on the edge of trouble—never enough to get him punished, but always enough to make you want to hex that smirk off his face.
Like during joint prefect meetings. While you were diligently taking notes on the patrol schedules, he’d lean just a little too close, peering over your parchment.
“Wow, your handwriting is so neat,” he’d whisper, just loud enough to catch your attention. “Did you learn calligraphy in secret? Or is this just natural talent?”
“Jungwon, do you mind?” you’d mutter, trying to shift your parchment out of his view.
“Not at all,” he’d reply, his tone maddeningly light. “In fact, I think I’ll start sitting next to you every meeting. You’re so good at organizing things—it’s inspiring.”
You’d glare at him, but he’d only give you a saccharine smile before turning his attention back to the meeting, his quill poised as if he’d been paying rapt attention the entire time.
It was moments like these that made you want to scream. How could someone so irritating also be so annoyingly good at everything? How could he act like he had all the time in the world to bother you and still keep up his reputation as one of the best students in the school?
But perhaps the most frustrating part wasn’t the teasing itself. It was the way he always seemed to know just how to get under your skin, just how to push you to the edge of losing your cool. And no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, Jungwon always found a way to make sure you noticed him.
So why, out of all the people in the world, did he have to be your soulmate?
When you first got your soulmark, a delicate little outline of a cat, you’d been ecstatic. A cat felt dignified, graceful—everything you imagined your soulmate would be. You’d hoped for someone respectable, someone who would balance your ambitious nature and match your unwavering dedication. Someone… well, not Jungwon.
But no. Of course, your soulmate had to be the one person who spent more time ruffling your feathers than anyone else.
You discovered the truth entirely by accident, during an otherwise routine Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson in your sixth year. The professor had asked everyone to practice conjuring a patronus, and when Jungwon stepped forward to demonstrate, a sleek, silver cat had leapt from the tip of his wand.
Your stomach had dropped. Your quill slipped from your fingers.
It didn’t take much to put two and two together. How else could you explain the way your heart raced every time he got too close to you? Or the way your pulse quickened whenever his teasing voice whispered in your ear? You’d always chalked it up to frustration, but now you weren’t so sure.
You hadn’t realized you were staring until Jungwon caught your eye, that damn smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “What?” he’d asked, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Impressed?”
You’d quickly snapped your head down, pretending to write something in your notebook. “Hardly,” you muttered, but your shaky grip on your quill betrayed you.
After that, you went out of your way to keep your distance from him whenever patronuses came up in class. You’d never cast yours in front of him, and you planned to keep it that way. The last thing you wanted was for him to connect the dots—your dots.
Because if Jungwon found out? If he knew that every teasing remark, every sly grin, every infuriatingly perfect move he made was destined to tug at the invisible string that tied your souls together? You were certain you’d never hear the end of it.
You could already imagine the smug grin on his face.
“Oh, Miss Perfect,” he’d drawl. “I always knew you had a soft spot for me.”
No. That would not happen. As far as you were concerned, he could live his life blissfully unaware. And you’d do the same, no matter how much it gnawed at you to keep the secret.
At least this way, you could hold onto the tiny shred of dignity you had left. Even if that dignity felt a little more fragile every time he leaned in close, his voice a low hum in your ear, and your heart betrayed you all over again.
For months, you buried the truth deep down, pretending like the invisible string between you and Jungwon didn’t exist. You carried on with your duties as a prefect, kept your head high, and worked tirelessly to ignore the way your heart betrayed you whenever he was near.
But it was getting harder.
He was everywhere. Patrols, prefect meetings, the library, even the hallways—you couldn’t escape him. It was like fate itself was conspiring to push you together. And the worst part? He wasn’t making it any easier with his constant teasing.
Like the time he caught you nodding off during a late-night patrol. It had been a long day, and you were leaning against a cold stone wall in the fourth-floor corridor, struggling to keep your eyes open.
“Falling asleep on the job, Miss Perfect?” His voice came out of nowhere, soft and playful, making you jolt upright.
You glared at him, cheeks burning. “I wasn’t sleeping.”
“Sure you weren’t.” He stepped closer, his emerald tie slightly askew, his expression amused. “If you need a break, I could always cover for you. I mean, I am the more capable prefect.”
You scoffed. “Capable? Says the one who nearly let Peeves set off an entire box of Dungbombs in the Great Hall last week.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin tugging at his lips. “Touché. But in my defense, Peeves likes me better than you.”
“Because you encourage him,” you shot back, crossing your arms.
Jungwon just chuckled, leaning against the wall beside you. His shoulder brushed yours, and you tensed at the sudden proximity. It was a casual touch, nothing out of the ordinary, but it sent your heart racing all the same.
“Relax,” he murmured, his tone softer now. “You work too hard, you know.”
And there it was again—the part of him that left you confused. The Jungwon who teased you relentlessly, but then turned around and said things like that, catching you completely off guard.
You didn’t respond, afraid your voice might crack. Instead, you stepped away, mumbling something about needing to finish your patrol. But as you walked off, you swore you could feel his gaze lingering on you, like he knew something you didn’t.
You descended the staircase as quickly as you could without breaking into a run, your heart pounding harder with every step. It wasn’t just from the way his gaze lingered or the softness in his voice—it was the growing fear that maybe he did know something you didn’t.
You tried to push the thought away, shaking your head as you patrolled the quiet corridors. The castle was calm tonight, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the walls. It was peaceful, the perfect atmosphere to collect your thoughts and shove down the gnawing feelings Jungwon always seemed to drag to the surface.
But of course, peace didn’t last long when it came to him.
“Hey, wait up!” His voice echoed down the corridor, and you inwardly groaned.
You stopped, turning slowly as Jungwon jogged to catch up with you, his prefect badge glinting in the dim light. His hair was slightly messy from the wind on the Astronomy Tower, but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he looked downright smug, like chasing you down had been his plan all along.
“What do you want, Jungwon?” you asked, crossing your arms in an attempt to seem unaffected.
He came to a stop in front of you, hands in his pockets as he tilted his head. “What’s with the rush? We’re on the same patrol route, you know.”
“I prefer working alone,” you replied curtly, turning to walk away again.
But he sidestepped, blocking your path with an infuriatingly easy grin. “That’s no way to treat your partner, Miss Perfect. We’re supposed to be a team.”
“Team?” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes. “Last time we worked as a ‘team,’ you disappeared halfway through and left me to deal with Peeves in the trophy room.”
He laughed, the sound low and warm, and it sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “That’s because you’re better at dealing with him. He listens to you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” you snapped, pushing past him. “He threw a whole stack of awards at my head.”
“Well, you’re still alive,” Jungwon called after you, his teasing tone making your blood boil. “So I’d say you handled it pretty well.”
You didn’t dignify him with a response, instead quickening your pace down the corridor. But Jungwon, being Jungwon, didn’t take the hint. He fell into step beside you, his hands still casually tucked into his robe pockets as if this was all some leisurely stroll.
“Why do you always run away?” he asked suddenly, his voice quieter now.
You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat. Slowly, you turned to face him, finding his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He stepped closer, and you hated the way your body instinctively leaned back against the wall as if you needed the extra support. “Every time I get too close—every time we talk like this—you find an excuse to leave.”
“That’s because you’re annoying,” you said quickly, but even to your own ears, it sounded weak.
His lips quirked into a small, almost triumphant smile. “Am I? Or is it something else?”
Your throat felt dry, and you didn’t trust yourself to speak. He was too close now, close enough that you could see the faint freckles dusted across his nose, close enough to catch the light scent of parchment and peppermint on him.
“Why do you care?” you finally managed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.
For a moment, he didn’t respond, his eyes searching yours as if trying to unearth a secret you didn’t want to give away. Then, he took a step back, his expression shifting to something softer, something almost vulnerable.
“Because I think there’s something you’re not telling me,” he said quietly.
You opened your mouth, but no words came. Because he was right, and you hated it. You hated that he could read you so easily, hated the way he seemed to see through every wall you put up around yourself.
But most of all, you hated that part of you didn’t want to keep running anymore.
“Goodnight, Jungwon,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you felt. Then, before he could say anything else, you turned on your heel and walked away, this time determined not to look back.
--
It started as a simple enough task: cleaning up the mess left behind by a pair of second-year Ravenclaws who had apparently thought it would be a brilliant idea to practice Summoning Charms in the Trophy Room. Broken glass, scattered awards, and stray parchments were strewn everywhere, and the professor who caught them had, of course, decided that this was a job for the prefects.
“Character-building,” Professor McGonagall had said. “It’ll teach you both responsibility.”
Both? At the time, you hadn’t asked who the “both” referred to, foolishly assuming you’d be able to handle it alone. After all, you preferred it that way. The less you had to deal with anyone—especially him—the better.
You arrived at the Trophy Room late in the evening, wand in hand, ready to sort out the chaos quickly and efficiently. The room was silent except for the faint rustle of the enchanted banners overhead. For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax. No distractions, no interruptions. Just you and the task at hand.
Or so you thought.
“You know,” came a familiar voice from behind you, smooth and laced with amusement, “you’d think they’d give us a thank-you note for cleaning up after them.”
You froze, your wand nearly slipping from your fingers. Turning slowly, you found Jungwon leaning casually against the doorframe, his prefect badge glinting in the torchlight. His tie was slightly loosened, his hair tousled in that infuriatingly perfect way that made it seem like he hadn’t even tried.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, unable to keep the irritation out of your voice.
“Same thing you are,” he replied, pushing off the doorframe and strolling into the room like he owned it. “Apparently, the professors think I’m responsible enough to help clean up messes now. Who knew?”
“Great,” you muttered under your breath, turning back to the mess in front of you. “Just don’t get in my way.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Perfect,” he said, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. With a flick of your wand, you began repairing a shattered glass case, the shards floating back into place with a soft ping. But of course, Jungwon wasn’t content to let you work in peace.
“You missed a spot,” he said, pointing to a stray shard on the floor.
“I see it,” you snapped, flicking your wand again to send the shard to its rightful place.
“You’re welcome,” he said with a grin, crouching down to pick up a fallen plaque. As he straightened, he tilted his head, examining the inscription. “Huh. ‘Most Promising First-Year, 1983.’ Wonder what they did to earn that.”
“Why do you care?” you asked, not bothering to look at him.
“I don’t,” he replied, placing the plaque back on its stand. “But if I have to be here, I might as well make conversation.”
“Well, don’t. I’m busy.”
“Oh, I can see that.” He leaned against one of the display cases, watching you with a lazy smirk. “You’re very good at this, by the way. It’s almost like you’ve done it before.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to focus on a particularly stubborn spell that refused to reattach a decorative plate to its stand. “If you’re not going to help, at least stay quiet.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence beside you. “Come on, Miss Perfect, lighten up. It’s just the Trophy Room. It’s not like we’re scrubbing cauldrons in the dungeons.”
You ignored him, muttering the spell under your breath again. The plate finally clicked into place, and you let out a small sigh of relief. But before you could move on to the next task, Jungwon reached over, plucking a stray ribbon from the pile of debris.
“Do you think this would suit me?” he asked, holding it up to his chest with a mock-serious expression.
You glanced at him, exasperated. “It’s a participation ribbon for a broomstick-polishing contest.”
“So?” He pinned it to his robes with a flourish. “I think it adds character.”
You couldn’t help it—a small laugh escaped you before you could stop it. The moment you realized what you’d done, you quickly turned away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
But of course, he had.
“Was that a laugh?” he asked, his tone triumphant. “Did I just get the oh-so-serious prefect to crack a smile?”
“No,” you said quickly, focusing on another broken display case. “You’re imagining things.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” He stepped closer again, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “You know, if you let yourself relax more often, you might actually enjoy my company.”
You turned to glare at him, only to find that he was much closer than you’d realized. Close enough that you could see the faint sparkle in his dark eyes, the way his smirk softened into something almost genuine.
“Highly unlikely,” you said, your voice quieter now.
Jungwon tilted his head, studying you like he was trying to figure out a particularly tricky potion. “You know,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “you’re kind of fun to mess with.”
“Glad I can be your entertainment,” you muttered, stepping back to put some much-needed distance between you.
But as you turned away, you couldn’t help but feel his gaze lingering on you again, that same unsettling mix of mischief and something deeper that always left your heart racing.
The worst part? You weren’t entirely sure you hated it.
You busied yourself with repairing another shattered trophy case, desperately trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. Jungwon always knew exactly how to push your buttons, and worse, he seemed to enjoy it.
As you flicked your wand, mumbling an incantation to reattach the intricate golden handles to the glass case, you could still feel his presence behind you. Not doing anything—just standing there, watching you.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you actually going to help?” you snapped, not bothering to look over your shoulder.
“Oh, I’m helping,” he said, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
You turned, narrowing your eyes at him. “Really? How, exactly?”
Jungwon held up a dusty trophy he’d picked off the floor. “Moral support.” He grinned, wiping the plaque halfheartedly with the sleeve of his robe. “You’re doing great, by the way. Truly inspiring.”
“Unbelievable,” you muttered, turning back to your work.
But before you could even begin the next spell, Jungwon’s voice interrupted again.
“Hey, you’ve got a little…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely to your face.
You frowned, brushing your cheek self-consciously. “What?”
“Here.” He stepped closer—too close—and reached out, his fingers brushing the side of your face. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. His touch was light, barely there, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you.
“There,” he said softly, pulling his hand back to reveal a speck of dust on his fingertips. “Got it.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. He was looking at you now, his teasing smile replaced with something softer, something that made your breath catch.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you blurted, taking a step back to put some distance between you.
“Like what?” he asked, his voice low, almost curious.
“Like—like that!” You waved your hand vaguely, refusing to meet his eyes. “Like you’re… plotting something.”
His smile returned, softer this time but no less infuriating. “Who says I’m plotting anything?”
“Because you’re always plotting something,” you shot back, turning away from him and focusing on the pile of broken trophies again. “It’s practically your personality.”
“Harsh,” he said with a mock wince, though his tone was still playful. “You wound me, Miss Perfect.”
You rolled your eyes, determined to ignore him as you began repairing the next trophy. But Jungwon wasn’t done.
“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice taking on that familiar teasing lilt, “for someone who claims to hate me, you sure spend a lot of time thinking about me.”
Your wand slipped, sending a crack straight through the trophy you were trying to fix. You cursed under your breath, quickly repairing the damage before whirling around to face him.
“I don’t think about you,” you said firmly, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.
“Really?” Jungwon leaned casually against the nearest display case, his arms crossed as he regarded you with that maddeningly smug expression. “Because you’re looking a little flustered right now.”
“I’m not flustered,” you snapped, crossing your arms defensively.
He stepped closer again, his grin widening as he leaned in, just enough to make your breath hitch. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you said quickly, though your voice came out shakier than you’d intended.
For a moment, neither of you moved. His dark eyes were locked on yours, and for once, there was no teasing glint in them—just an intensity that made your stomach flip.
“Jungwon,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “You’re standing too close.”
He tilted his head, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Am I?”
“Yes,” you said again, though you made no move to step away.
For a brief, terrifying moment, you thought he might say something—something that would shatter the delicate balance between you. But instead, he stepped back, the teasing smile returning to his face like nothing had happened.
“Alright, alright,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll give you some space.”
You exhaled, not realizing until that moment that you’d been holding your breath.
“Good,” you muttered, turning back to the trophies.
"Do you think the founders ever argued over who got the biggest house common room?" Jungwon asked as you muttered a spell to repair another shattered trophy.
You sighed, not even glancing at him. "I don’t know. Maybe."
He hummed thoughtfully, as though your answer was the most profound thing he’d ever heard. "Do you think Salazar Slytherin was the type to hog all the butterbeer at parties?"
You flicked your wand sharply, fixing another display case. "Probably."
"And what about Godric Gryffindor? I bet he couldn’t resist showing off in duels."
"Sounds likely," you replied curtly, focusing on levitating a stack of plaques back into their proper places.
Jungwon leaned casually against a nearby display, his hands in his pockets, watching you with barely contained amusement. "Alright, last one—do you think Helga Hufflepuff secretly kept a stash of snacks in her robes?"
At that, you paused, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "Definitely," you said, surprising yourself with a small smile.
Jungwon grinned like he’d won a prize, clearly pleased that he’d managed to drag more than a one-word answer out of you. "See? I knew you had a sense of humor buried under all that seriousness."
You rolled your eyes, quickly turning your attention back to the mess. The sooner you finished, the sooner you could get out of here and away from him. The room felt warmer than it should have, in a way that made it hard to breathe. You could feel Jungwon’s presence behind you, close enough that your skin tingled, your soulmark on your arm warming pleasantly every time he leaned just a little too close.
You tried to ignore it, brushing the feeling aside as nothing more than nerves, but it was impossible. It was suffocating and exhilarating all at once, and you hated how much it affected you.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you placed the last trophy back in its case and lowered your wand.
“There. Done,” you said, your voice tight.
“Impressive work, Miss Perfect,” Jungwon said, clapping his hands lightly. “You really are a perfectionist.”
Ignoring him, you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, desperate to escape before the room—and him—got the better of you.
But just as you reached the threshold, Jungwon’s voice stopped you.
“Leaving so soon?” he called, his tone laced with amusement. “I was starting to enjoy our little bonding session.”
You didn’t turn around, gripping the strap of your bag tightly. "We’re done here. Go bother someone else, Jungwon."
You stepped out into the corridor, the cool air a welcome relief against your flushed skin. But even as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the lingering warmth on your arm, the way your soulmark had come alive just from being near him.
You hated it.
And yet, deep down, you knew it wasn’t hate at all.
The cool air of the corridor did little to ease the warmth in your chest. You tightened your grip on the strap of your bag, walking briskly to put as much distance between yourself and Jungwon as possible.
“Hey!” a familiar voice called from further down the hall. You looked up to see your Slytherin friend, Minji, striding toward you. Her dark robes swished behind her, and her usual confident smirk lit up her face. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. What happened?”
You sighed, falling into step beside her as she turned to walk with you. “Trophy Room duty. With Jungwon.”
Her eyebrows shot up, and she gave you a knowing grin. “Ah, the infamous Yang Jungwon. What did he do this time?”
“Same as always,” you muttered, your tone clipped. “Teased me, asked a million pointless questions, and stood way too close for comfort.”
Minji laughed, the sound echoing softly in the empty hallway. “Well, that sounds about right. He’s got that whole charming nuisance thing down to an art.”
You shot her a glare, but it lacked any real bite. “It’s not charming. It’s infuriating.”
“Sure, sure,” Minji said, waving her hand dismissively. “But you’re still blushing.”
You froze mid-step, your hand flying to your face. “I am not!”
“You so are,” she said with a smug grin, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Come on, just admit it—he gets under your skin, doesn’t he?”
You groaned, resuming your pace and trying to ignore the warmth creeping back into your cheeks. “That’s not the same thing as liking him.”
“Hmm,” Minji hummed, her smirk widening. “If you say so.”
The two of you turned a corner, the dimly lit hallway now empty except for the faint flicker of torches on the walls. Minji glanced at you, her expression softening slightly. “But seriously, are you okay? You seem… tense.”
You hesitated, your fingers brushing over the strap of your bag. “It’s just—being around him is exhausting. He’s so... persistent. And—and the way he looks at me sometimes—”
You cut yourself off, realizing you’d said too much.
Minji stopped walking, grabbing your arm to make you face her. “Wait. What way does he look at you?”
You shook your head quickly, trying to dismiss it. “Forget I said that. It’s nothing.”
“Oh no, no, no.” Minji’s eyes sparkled with mischief now. “You’re telling me that Jungwon—Jungwon—might actually like you? This just keeps getting better.”
You felt your stomach twist at her words, a mix of denial and something far more complicated. “He doesn’t like me,” you said firmly, though your voice faltered slightly. “He just likes messing with me.”
“Uh-huh,” Minji said, clearly unconvinced. “And what about you? Do you like him?”
“No!” you said quickly, too quickly.
Minji raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Why am I even friends with you?”
“Because I’m the only one who’s brave enough to call you out on your nonsense,” she said with a grin, pulling your hands away from your face. “Listen, if you ask me—which, by the way, you should—I think you and Jungwon would be kind of perfect together.”
Your heart skipped a beat at her words, but you shook your head furiously. “Not happening. Ever.”
“Alright, alright,” Minji said, holding up her hands in surrender. “But for the record, if he ever stops teasing you, you’ll know you’re in trouble.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.
The days that followed were nothing short of exhausting. It had become a routine of sorts—this competition between you and Jungwon to see who could outshine the other as a prefect. Both of you were model students, but being better than him was a point of pride you weren’t willing to give up.
Unfortunately, Jungwon seemed to have the exact same idea.
“Let’s see who finishes the patrol of the East Wing faster tonight,” Jungwon said casually one evening, walking just a step ahead of you as the two of you began your rounds.
You glared at the back of his head. “It’s not a race, Jungwon. The goal is to thoroughly patrol the area, not sprint through it like a Quidditch match.”
He turned his head slightly, flashing you that insufferable smirk. “Oh, but you’re just saying that because you know I’d win.”
You scoffed, quickening your pace to walk beside him. “You wouldn’t win. You’d probably miss half the patrol spots because you’re too busy smirking at yourself in the reflection of the windows.”
Jungwon placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “You wound me. But, for the record, I don’t smirk at myself. I save those exclusively for you.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and turned your face away to hide it. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, ignoring the way your soulmark tingled faintly at his words.
“Ridiculous, but efficient,” he countered, his tone light and teasing. “Unlike some people, I don’t waste time lecturing first-years about being out past curfew. I just send them back to their dorms and call it a night.”
“That’s because you let them off too easy,” you shot back, stopping to peer into an empty classroom. “A good prefect sets an example. You’re supposed to be teaching them, not coddling them.”
“And you’re supposed to be having fun,” Jungwon replied, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Merlin forbid you loosen up for five seconds.”
You gave him a withering glare, but it only seemed to fuel his amusement. He pushed off the doorframe and strolled past you, hands in his pockets, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Tell you what,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll handle the rest of this hallway. You can take the next one. We’ll see who finds more troublemakers by the end of the night.”
“Fine,” you said sharply, determined to beat him. “But don’t go cutting corners like you always do.”
Jungwon turned back to you with an exaggerated look of shock. “Cut corners? Me? Never.”
You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath as he sauntered away.
The rest of the night passed in much the same way—him teasing you, you firing back with sharp retorts, and both of you secretly trying to outdo the other in your duties. By the time patrol ended, you were both walking back to the common areas, still exchanging jabs.
“So, how many rule-breakers did you catch tonight?” Jungwon asked, his tone casual but his smirk betraying his competitive streak.
“Three,” you said smugly. “And you?”
“Four,” he replied, his grin widening when you scowled.
“Liar,” you accused, narrowing your eyes at him.
Jungwon gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Miss Perfect. Are you saying I’d lie about something so serious?”
“Yes,” you said flatly, though you couldn’t stop the corners of your mouth from twitching upward.
“Well, believe what you want,” he said with a shrug, walking ahead of you toward the main staircase. “But next time, maybe you’ll think twice before underestimating me.”
You watched him go, shaking your head in exasperation. No matter how infuriating he was, there was a strange comfort in the back-and-forth banter between you. It was almost... fun, in its own twisted way.
But as you turned to head toward your dormitory, you caught yourself smiling and quickly wiped it off your face. Jungwon didn’t need to know that, for all his teasing and smug remarks, he made your prefect duties just a little less tedious—and a lot more complicated.
--
The air in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was cool, the steady drone of the professor’s voice filling the room as they explained the intricacies of Dementors. You should have been paying attention, but the lesson was one you had mastered ages ago. Instead, your thoughts wandered, your quill idly twirling between your fingers as you gazed out the window.
That was until a small folded piece of parchment fluttered directly in front of your face. You blinked in surprise, catching it before it fell onto your desk. Frowning, you carefully unfolded it, unsure of what to expect.
Inside was a drawing—a portrait of you. The lines were soft, delicate, and surprisingly skilled. It captured you in a way that made your breath hitch for a moment. You looked… pretty.
Your cheeks warmed as you glanced around the room, searching for the culprit. Your eyes landed on a tall Gryffindor boy sitting a few desks away. His face turned bright red the moment your eyes met his, and he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on his notes.
You couldn’t help but smile, a small, amused laugh escaping your lips.
When class ended and everyone began filing out, you gathered your things and stepped into the corridor. Before you could get far, a voice called out behind you.
“Uh, excuse me?”
You turned to see the same Gryffindor boy standing there, his hands nervously clutching the strap of his bag. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with soft eyes and a shy smile that revealed dimples.
“Yes?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.
He cleared his throat, his face still tinged with embarrassment. “I, um, I was wondering if—if you don’t have any more classes today—maybe you’d like to study together? In the library, I mean.”
He was cute—really cute. And as luck would have it, he was a prefect, too, which made him even more appealing in your eyes. His nervousness was endearing, and you found yourself smiling softly.
“Sure,” you said, much to his visible relief. “I don’t have any other classes.”
The two of you walked to the library together, falling into an easy conversation. He introduced himself as Choi Soobin, and you quickly discovered he was funny, charming, and incredibly sweet. By the time you reached the library, you were already at ease in his presence.
The two of you sat down at a quiet table near the back, pulling out your books and parchment. At first, you tried to focus on your work, but Soobin`s quiet jokes and playful commentary kept pulling your attention away. Before long, you were laughing softly, your hand covering your mouth to stifle the sound as Madam Pince shot you both a stern look.
Unbeknownst to you, someone else had entered the library.
Jungwon strolled in, his usual confident smirk on his face as he made his way to the front desk to offer Madam Pince some assistance. He had volunteered to help her organize the new shipments of books—a task he didn’t particularly enjoy but knew would score him some house points.
But as he approached the desk, a sound stopped him in his tracks.
A laugh.
His head turned instinctively toward the source, his gaze landing on you. You were sitting at a table near the back, your head tilted slightly as you giggled at something the Gryffindor boy across from you had said. Soobin.
Jungwon’s chest tightened at the sight.
The Gryffindor was leaning closer to you, his dimples on full display as he smiled down at you, clearly pleased to have made you laugh. And you—Jungwon had never seen you so at ease, so… radiant.
His grip on the stack of books in his hands tightened as an ugly, unfamiliar feeling began to bubble in his chest. Jealousy.
Why were you laughing like that with Soobin? Why were you sitting so close to him, looking at him with such bright, open eyes? Jungwon had seen that smile before, but it had never been directed at him. And the realization made something in him twist painfully.
He tore his gaze away, his happy demeanor now replaced with a sour expression. He tried to focus on the task at hand, stacking books onto shelves and sorting parchment, but his eyes kept wandering back to you.
Every time Soobin leaned closer, every time you laughed softly, it was like a needle pricking at his chest.
You were supposed to be bickering with him, not smiling at some dimply Gryffindor prefect.
And worse, you didn’t even notice him. For the first time, it felt like you were completely out of his orbit, and it made his jealousy burn even brighter.
By the time he finished his chores, he couldn’t take it anymore. He shot one last glare in Soobin`s direction—though the Gryffindor was oblivious—and left the library, the ugly green feeling sitting heavy in his chest.
As he stalked through the corridors, his thoughts raced. He didn’t know what was worse: the fact that he was jealous, or the fact that he had no idea what to do about it.
The days that followed were... different. Soobin, with his warm smile and easygoing demeanor, seemed to find every excuse to be around you. Whether it was walking with you between classes, sharing a table in the library, or even just stopping to chat in the halls, he was always there.
And to your surprise, you didn’t mind. He had a way of making you laugh without even trying, his gentle humor and wide-eyed innocence making it hard to resist smiling.
“Do you always study this much?” Soobin asked one evening, leaning slightly over your shoulder as the two of you sat in the library.
“It’s called being responsible,” you teased, not looking up from your parchment.
“Well, if responsibility looks this good on you, maybe I should try it,” he joked, his dimples flashing.
You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin. “Good luck with that.”
Moments like these had become the norm, and while you enjoyed his company, you couldn’t ignore the way Jungwon seemed to be watching your every move lately.
Every time you and Soobin crossed paths with him, Jungwon’s eyes would narrow, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. It was subtle—no one else seemed to notice—but you did. And you couldn’t ignore the way his usual smirk seemed to vanish whenever Soobin was around.
It didn’t help that Soobin, in his blissful obliviousness, seemed entirely focused on you.
“Do you think he’s going to explode one day?” Yuna, one of your closest friends, whispered to you during lunch, nodding subtly toward Jungwon, who was sitting a few tables away. His eyes were fixed on you and Soobin, his expression unreadable but intense.
You followed her gaze, your stomach flipping slightly when your eyes met Jungwon’s. He didn’t look away, and for a moment, it felt like he was daring you to do something—anything.
“He’s just... annoyed,” you muttered, breaking the eye contact and focusing back on your plate.
“Annoyed?” Yuna raised an eyebrow, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “That boy looks like he’s ready to hex Soobin into next week.”
You didn’t respond, mostly because you couldn’t deny it. Jungwon’s glares had grown sharper with each passing day, and it didn’t help that you’d somehow ended up with more patrols and prefect duties with Soobin lately.
At first, you’d chalked it up to coincidence, but now it was starting to feel deliberate. Maybe the professors had noticed how well you worked together, or maybe Soobin had requested it. Either way, it only seemed to worsen the already fragile balance between you and Jungwon.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed the way your soulmark had been acting up, either. The once-pleasant tingling had turned into an uncomfortable burn, a constant reminder of the growing rift between you and Jungwon.
It was ironic, really. For years, your “rivalry” with him had been the one constant in your life at Hogwarts. From the moment you’d both become prefects, it had been a steady back-and-forth of playful banter and one-upping each other. But now, things felt... different.
This was the first time since first year that you and Jungwon weren’t entirely in sync. And as much as you wanted to ignore it, to push down the guilt that came with the thought, it stung.
One evening, during yet another patrol with Soobin, you caught yourself lost in thought as he talked animatedly about something—a story about his younger siblings, if you remembered correctly. His voice was soft and warm, but it faded into the background as your mind wandered.
You couldn’t help but wonder what Jungwon was doing right now. Would he be patrolling the opposite side of the castle? Sitting in the common room with his friends, glaring at the fire in frustration?
“You okay?” Soobin’s voice pulled you back to the present, his kind eyes filled with concern.
You nodded quickly, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, just tired.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard,” he said gently, his concern only making your chest tighten.
You forced yourself to refocus, to push away the thoughts of Jungwon. But as you walked beside Soobin, his voice filling the quiet corridors, you couldn’t ignore the way your soulmark burned faintly against your skin, like it was trying to remind you of something you weren’t ready to face.
--
It had been an exhausting day. Between classes, your prefect duties, and Soobin’s persistent presence, you were feeling utterly drained. Tonight’s patrol was supposed to be simple—just a quick check of the corridors before returning to your common room.
But, as always, trouble had a way of finding you.
The moment you stepped into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, you knew something was off.
A group of younger students was gathered at the far end, laughing nervously and huddling close together. As you got closer, you noticed a faint shimmer in the air, followed by a creeping chill that made your skin prickle.
A Dementor.
Or rather, a Boggart pretending to be one, you realized quickly. But the younger students didn’t know that. Their faces were pale with fear, their breaths coming out in short gasps as they stumbled back against the cold stone wall.
Without thinking, you acted on instinct.
“Stay back!” you called to the students, pulling out your wand.
The Boggart shifted its attention to you, gliding forward with a slow, deliberate menace. Even knowing it wasn’t real, you felt a spike of unease as the air grew colder.
You raised your wand, your voice steady. “Expecto Patronum!”
A bright, silvery light burst forth from your wand, taking shape in the form of an animal. Its figure moved with an elegant agility, leaping forward and sending the Boggart scuttling back into the shadows. The students gasped in awe, their fear melting into relief as the warmth of your Patronus filled the room.
It wasn’t until the Boggart disappeared completely, retreating into a chest, that you realized you weren’t alone.
From the corner of your eye, you caught movement. Turning your head, your stomach dropped.
Jungwon stood at the entrance, his dark eyes wide and locked onto your Patronus. The silver light of the animal reflected in his gaze, his expression shifting from shock to something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.
Your Patronus lingered for a moment longer before fading, its light dissolving into the cold air. The students quickly scrambled past Jungwon, murmuring their thanks as they made their way back to their dorms. But you barely noticed them leave.
It was just you and Jungwon now.
He didn’t say anything, but you could see it—the moment of realization dawning on his face. His eyes flicked to your arm, the same spot where your soulmark had always rested, hidden beneath your sleeve. And then, almost involuntarily, his hand moved to his own arm.
Right where his soulmark would be.
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
“Jungwon—” you started, but your voice caught in your throat.
He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was piecing everything together in real time. His hand remained pressed against his arm, his fingers curling slightly as if he could feel the truth burning beneath his skin.
“Your Patronus,” he said softly, his voice steady but quiet.
You swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s not—”
“It’s the same...." he interrupted, his tone carefully controlled, but you could see his jaw clench. “The same as my soulmark.”
Your breath hitched. You knew there was no use denying it—not when the evidence was staring him right in the face.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s just a coincidence, Jungwon. That’s all.”
He let out a soft, humorless laugh, and when you finally looked up, you were startled by the look in his eyes. It wasn’t anger, like you expected. It wasn’t even annoyance.
It was hurt.
“A coincidence?” he repeated, his voice low. His hand finally dropped from his arm, hanging limply at his side. “You think a Patronus matching my soulmark is just a coincidence?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. The burning sensation in your arm flared up, as if your soulmark itself was scolding you for trying to deny the truth.
Jungwon took another step closer, his gaze searching your face. “How long have you known?”
“Jungwon, I—”
“How long?” he pressed, his voice breaking slightly.
You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no point in lying now. “Since last year,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
His jaw clenched, and he took a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Last year,” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “You’ve known this whole time, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t know how!” you shot back, your voice rising despite yourself. “What was I supposed to say, Jungwon? ‘Hey, by the way, we’re soulmates’? You would have laughed in my face!”
He stared at you, his expression unreadable. “Is that what you think of me?”
“No,” you said quickly, the word rushing out before you could stop it. “No, I don’t think that. I just—” You let out a shaky breath, rubbing at your arm as if that would ease the burning sensation. “I didn’t want to ruin everything. We’ve been—whatever we are—for so long, and I didn’t want to mess that up.”
Jungwon was silent for a long moment, his gaze dropping to the ground. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, but no less firm.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said. “But lying to me—hiding this from me—it hurt. It hurts.”
Your throat tightened, guilt twisting in your chest.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said quietly.
He looked up at you, his dark eyes filled with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite untangle. For the first time, he looked vulnerable, the walls he always kept so carefully in place beginning to crack.
“I don’t know what this means,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I think we owe it to ourselves to figure it out. Don’t you?”
You nodded, unable to trust your voice.
After that night in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, you found yourself plagued by questions and uncertainty. Jungwon’s quiet hurt echoed in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were standing on the edge of something you didn’t fully understand. Soulmates. The idea had always seemed so distant to you, something that other people talked about with a dreamy look in their eyes. But now that it was your reality, it felt different—complicated, messy, and, honestly, terrifying.
For the next few days, you threw yourself into researching everything you could about soulmates. You spent hours in the library, digging through old books and scrolls, hoping to find some concrete answers. You wanted to know more about the connection, the rules—or lack thereof—that came with having a soulmate. Was there a timeline to follow? Did you have to accept it? What did it mean for your future?
You also started asking your friends about their own experiences, although you were careful not to reveal too much. Yujin was the first to notice your sudden interest in the subject. You’d pulled her aside one evening, after class, and asked about her soulmark.
“Oh,” Yujin had said, glancing at you with a knowing smile, “it’s a small bird, right here.” She pointed to her wrist. “It was weird at first, but once we met, everything just clicked. It was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. My soulmate’s a Hufflepuff, actually.”
You nodded thoughtfully, trying to hide the way your heart twisted at the thought of your own situation. “And do you feel different? I mean, with him?”
She hesitated, then smiled softly. “Yeah. It’s like we’ve known each other for ages. I don’t know how to explain it, but you just know.”
You didn’t ask more, knowing you couldn’t handle hearing too much about the ease with which others seemed to fall into their soulmate connections. You wanted to learn, but you weren’t ready to hear about how it all just worked for others.
The next day, you sought out Jeongin, hoping for a more analytical approach. You had always admired how level-headed he was, and you figured he’d give you a more logical perspective. After all, he’d been pretty matter-of-fact about everything, including his own soulmark.
“I don’t think it means anything special,” he said, leaning back against the wall in the common room. “It’s just a way of knowing who’s yours. You’re connected in ways you can’t explain, but don’t overthink it. It’s not some kind of fate that’s pulling you together. It’s more like... a bond, I guess.”
You nodded again, relieved that he seemed to have a more grounded view of the connection. But something in his words unsettled you. “So, it’s not destiny?”
Jeongin chuckled. “Not for me. Maybe it`s just destiny for someone.”
His words sent a jolt through you, and you quickly brushed off the discomfort with a half-laugh. “I’m not sure I believe in destiny,” you muttered, hoping he wouldn’t pry further.
He gave you a long, measuring look but didn’t push. “Well, whatever it is, you’ve got to figure it out, yeah?”
You agreed, even though you weren’t entirely sure how to figure it out.
Meanwhile, your interactions with Soobin had taken on a new complexity. He seemed determined to win your attention, constantly seeking ways to make you smile, to make you laugh. He was sweet and caring in his own way, and you couldn’t deny that you liked being around him. But every time he called you “cute” or flashed that charming grin of his, something in you tightened—because you knew Jungwon was still watching, and you could feel the way his gaze lingered on you from across the room.
You had decided to keep the soulmate connection to yourself, at least for now. You didn’t want to hurt Soobin, especially when he seemed so genuinely happy to be with you. You liked him, you really did. But something about Jungwon’s presence, the pull between the two of you, was undeniable. You couldn’t ignore it any longer, even if you tried.
Jungwon, however, didn’t seem to share your same restraint. You noticed him more and more—his gaze following you and Soobin whenever the two of you were talking. His posture was stiff, his mouth set in a firm line whenever Soobin made you laugh, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly when you exchanged playful glances.
It wasn’t until one afternoon in the courtyard, when Soobin had made another attempt to charm you with one of his witty remarks, that you saw it.
Jungwon was standing near the entrance to the courtyard, watching the two of you from a distance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze was dark. You felt a flicker of unease. You’d always known there was a rivalry between you and Jungwon, but this was insane.
When Soobin noticed your hesitation, he smiled brightly and nudged you playfully. “What’s wrong? Did I say something weird?”
You shook your head quickly, forcing a smile. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just... distracted.”
“By Jungwon?” he teased, his eyes glancing over your shoulder. “You know, he doesn’t look too happy with us.”
You followed his gaze and found Jungwon standing there, looking like he was about to storm off. His eyes flicked to you and Soobin, then quickly away, but not before you saw that flicker of something—you weren’t sure what it was. But it didn’t look friendly.
Your heart skipped a beat as you turned back to Soobin. “Maybe we should head inside,” you suggested, trying to ignore the discomfort gnawing at you.
“Sure,” Soobin agreed, still oblivious to the tension you could feel. “Let’s go study, yeah?”
Studying with Soobin in the library was, for the most part, uneventful. He was focused, eager to discuss theories and share notes. But despite his attempts to make the session lively, your attention kept drifting, pulled by something you couldn’t explain. Every few minutes, you found yourself glancing up from your textbook, only to find Jungwon walking past your table again.
It was subtle at first. A quick, casual stroll down the aisle between the shelves, as if he were simply helping Madam Pince organize some books. But as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly obvious that he was lingering near your corner. His footsteps were quieter now, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, even when he didn’t look directly at you.
Soobin, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy scribbling notes on his parchment, talking about a spell he’d just learned in class. But you could feel the heat creeping up your neck, a strange tension building in the space between you and Jungwon, even though you were doing your best to ignore it.
"Do you think I should try this spell in the next class?" Soobin asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I feel like it could be fun, don’t you?"
You blinked, forcing your focus back onto him. "Uh, yeah. I think you’ll do great with it. You’ve got the precision down."
But even as you spoke, your gaze drifted over to Jungwon again. This time, he was standing just a few feet away, pretending to adjust a stack of books on the shelf directly across from your table. You could feel his presence, his eyes lingering on you from the corner of your vision. His movements were slow, deliberate, and each time he walked past, he seemed to be just a bit too close for comfort.
Your stomach tightened, and your heart started to race, the familiar unease creeping up again. You couldn’t help it. The bond that had ignited between you and Jungwon—the one you had been trying to ignore, to push down—was becoming harder and harder to control.
Soobin, oblivious to your inner turmoil, continued speaking. "I was thinking we could practice it in the courtyard later today. Maybe you could come with me? You know, as my study partner."
Before you could respond, Jungwon’s figure appeared again, now walking past your table on the far side of the library. He glanced in your direction as he passed, and for a split second, your eyes locked. It was brief, but you could see the flicker of something in his gaze—something that made your chest tighten. His eyes dropped quickly, and without another word, he kept walking, the sound of his boots echoing faintly on the stone floors.
You felt the burn of your soulmark pulse against your skin.
Soobin didn’t seem to notice the shift in the air, his voice continuing without interruption. "What do you think? Should I go ahead and try the spell? I mean, I know we’ve got a lot to study, but—"
"Yeah," you interrupted, trying to shake off the lingering unease. "That sounds great. But, uh... I think I’m done for today. I’ve got some stuff to take care of."
You closed your textbook with a soft snap, feeling the sudden urge to leave. You stood up quickly, gathering your things, but before you could say goodbye, Soobin was looking at you with a puzzled expression.
"Already?" he asked. "I thought we were doing great."
"Yeah," you said, offering him a strained smile. "But I really do need to go. I’ll, uh... catch up with you later."
Soobin nodded, his dimples showing as he smiled. "Alright. I’ll see you later, then. Maybe we can talk more about that spell."
You quickly walked away, making your way toward the exit of the library. But as you passed through the aisles, you could feel it—the subtle shift in the air as Jungwon followed behind, his presence heavy and undeniable.
You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. But your heart was pounding, and as you exited the library, you heard his footsteps fall into sync behind you. He was following you.
When you stepped into the hallway, trying to calm your thoughts. Before you could even think to react, a hand gripped your wrist, pulling you gently but firmly into a small, dimly lit room just off the main corridor. The door clicked shut behind you, and you found yourself pressed against the cold stone wall, with no clear way out.
Your breath hitched, and you instinctively looked down, avoiding the sharp intensity of Jungwon’s gaze. The silence between you both hung heavy, almost suffocating. You could hear the faint beat of your own heart, louder in your ears than the soft rustling of his clothes as he moved closer.
“Look at me,” Jungwon’s voice cut through the silence, low and demanding.
You hesitated, a part of you afraid of what you might see in his eyes. Slowly, you lifted your gaze, finding his face inches from yours. His dark eyes searched your expression, his jaw tense as if he was trying to contain something—something he didn’t know how to put into words.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why?”
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press down on you. Your mind raced, but the only thing you could focus on was the distance that had grown between you two lately. Not just physically, but emotionally. “I’m not avoiding you,” you replied quietly, but the words didn’t sound convincing, even to yourself.
“Yes, you are,” Jungwon said, stepping closer, his proximity making your pulse spike. “I see it in the way you look at me now. The way you look away when I’m near.” His hand hovered near your face, but he didn’t touch you—not yet. “You’ve been different ever since you’ve been spending so much time with Soobin.”
Your chest tightened at the mention of his name, and for a moment, you looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t—” You stopped yourself. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, or worse, make it clear how much it hurt to see Jungwon’s jealousy, to see how much it bothered him that you were spending time with Soobin.
Jungwon wasn’t having any of it. “You didn’t think it would affect me?” His voice was firm, but there was something in it—an edge, a vulnerability you hadn’t heard before. “You didn’t think I’d notice?”
You felt a knot twist in your stomach. “Jungwon, I don’t—"
“Don’t lie to me,” he cut in sharply, his eyes intense. “I can’t stand it. I can’t stand you pretending like this isn’t happening.”
His words hit you like a wave, and suddenly everything you’d been trying to keep bottled up came rushing to the surface. Your chest was tight, and the burning sensation from your soulmark flared again, reminding you of the connection that you could no longer ignore.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, finally finding the courage to speak the truth. Your voice shook slightly, but you pushed through. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but it’s not easy, Jungwon. It’s not easy to just… admit that everything is changing. That we’re changing.”
He stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening slightly. But even as his gaze softened, the intensity never quite left his eyes. “You think I haven’t felt that, too?” he murmured. “You think it’s been easy for me, either? Watching you with him, knowing you’re spending time with Soobin because you’re not sure about us? Not sure about me?”
The words stung, and you averted your gaze again, your heart aching at the raw honesty in his voice. “It’s not like that,” you said weakly. “Soobin’s just... a friend.”
Jungwon’s lips tightened at the word. “A friend, huh?”
You nodded, but it felt hollow. You weren’t sure if it was true anymore—not when Soobin made you laugh so easily, not when he made your heart feel lighter in ways that Jungwon didn’t seem to. But the truth was, you couldn’t let yourself go down that path. You couldn’t let yourself hurt Soobin, not when you still cared about him. And you did care about him, in a way that you weren’t sure how to explain.
“I’m sorry,” you said, almost instinctively, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I just... I don’t know what I’m doing, Jungwon. I don’t know how to fix this.”
His hand finally reached up, cupping your chin gently to tilt your face so that you were looking at him once more. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek.
“You don’t have to fix anything,” Jungwon said, his voice quieter now. “But you can’t keep pushing me away. Not when we’re already this far into this.” He paused, searching your eyes as if trying to read the truth between the lines. “If you’re my soulmate, then I don’t want to keep pretending like it doesn’t mean anything.”
You blinked, the weight of his words sinking in. You didn’t know how to respond—not when the truth was so complicated, not when everything felt like it was teetering on the edge of something you weren’t ready to face.
“I don’t know how this works,” you admitted quietly. “But I can’t just ignore it either. I—” You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone in the process, either.”
Jungwon’s expression softened, the intensity in his gaze giving way to something gentler. “Then let’s figure it out,” he said quietly. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now. But we can’t keep running away from it.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.
Just as the air between you and Jungwon began to settle, and you were both preparing to leave the small room, a sudden, unmistakable sound echoed through the hallway outside. The telltale cackle of Peeves reached your ears.
"Oi, what's this? A little lover's quarrel?" Peeves' voice was high-pitched and mocking, and you could hear the sound of him shuffling on the other side of the door.
Before either of you could react, the door locked with an audible click, trapping you both inside. You and Jungwon exchanged a quick glance, both of you already understanding what had just happened.
"Peeves, open this door!" you called out, your voice sharp with irritation. "This isn’t funny!"
But instead of an answer, the only thing you heard was Peeves’ signature cackling, growing fainter as he moved down the hall. "Not so fast! You two have got plenty to talk about! Have fun!" His voice echoed as it faded into the distance.
Jungwon let out a frustrated sigh, stepping forward and trying the door, but it didn't budge. He pressed his palm against the wood, his frown deepening.
"Great," he muttered, the annoyance evident in his voice. "We’re stuck here now."
You crossed your arms, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at the awkwardness of the situation. Of course, Peeves had to pick the exact moment when things were finally starting to make sense between you and Jungwon to lock you both in a room together.
"I guess we should sit down and wait for the magic to wear off," you said dryly, trying to lighten the mood. You were half expecting Jungwon to make a sarcastic comment in return, but when you looked up, you found him watching you, his expression softened, though still a little tense.
"Not exactly how I pictured this," he said with a half-smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he shifted his focus elsewhere, like he was trying to process everything that had just happened.
"Yeah, well, Peeves does have a knack for timing," you muttered, your own smile faltering. You both took a step back, leaning against opposite walls, leaving some space between you.
You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Jungwon, your chest tightening a little at how the room felt smaller now, despite the fact that the walls were the same. The quiet between you two had changed, from tense silence to something that felt heavier, like something important had shifted and you were still trying to figure out exactly what it was.
"So, uh...," you said, breaking the silence. "This is fun, huh?"
Jungwon chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "I’m trying not to think about it. Honestly, I just... I don’t know what I’m supposed to say now. We’re soulmates, but I can’t just expect you to drop everything and choose me, especially with everything that’s been going on with Soobin."
You blinked, feeling a mix of emotions flood you—guilt, confusion, and a strange sense of relief that he was being honest with you. "I never expected you to just—" You cut yourself off. What had you expected? Had you been expecting Jungwon to just accept that you’d be together because of your soulmark? Was that fair to either of you?
"It’s not easy, Jungwon," you said finally. "I care about Soobin. I do. He’s been there for me in ways I didn’t think anyone else would be."
Jungwon’s eyes flickered toward the door, then back to you, and he let out a long breath. "I know you do. And I’m not trying to tell you to stop spending time with him. I just... I don’t want you to think that I’m going to disappear because you’re with him." His voice softened, and he looked at you. "I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere."
You felt a lump form in your throat at his words. Jungwon's vulnerability was something new, something raw that you weren’t used to seeing from him, especially like this.
You both fell into silence, the weight of the room pressing down on you, heavier than the stone walls surrounding you. Neither of you spoke.
You shifted your position, feeling the warmth of Jungwon’s body too close to your own. Every time you tried to step away, your back brushed against the cold wall, and the small room only seemed to shrink around you. You knew you had to do something to get some space, but the proximity felt... different than it had before. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but it was undeniably intimate in a way that made your heart beat faster.
"Jungwon..." you whispered, shifting slightly, trying to create some distance between you two. But with your movement, his hand instinctively reached out, grabbing your waist and pulling you back toward him.
“Don’t,” he murmured softly, his voice strained, almost as though he were trying to convince himself as much as you. His face was flushed, his breath shallow. His gaze flickered down for a moment before he quickly looked away, a slight embarrassment coloring his features.
“I—uh...” He cleared his throat, still not meeting your eyes. "I think it’s better if we don’t move too much. We’re stuck in here for now, so..."
His words trailed off as you both stood there, your chest pressed against his, the quiet intensity of the moment thick between you. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the faintest tremor in his hand still holding onto your waist, keeping you there with him.
You felt a twinge of awkwardness, but there was also a flutter in your stomach, something you couldn’t quite identify. Jungwon wasn’t acting like the confident, teasing prefect you were used to. He seemed almost... shy now. He avoided your gaze, and you could see his cheeks were flushed.
“Jungwon,” you repeated, your voice a little softer this time. You weren’t sure if you were trying to calm him down or if you were trying to ease the tension between the two of you. “You’re really close.”
He winced, as if he hadn't realized just how close you both were until you said it. "Sorry," he muttered quickly, but he didn’t let go of your waist. Instead, he awkwardly shifted to give you a little more space, though it wasn’t much.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the absurdity of the situation. Here you were, trapped in a small room, with Jungwon.
A sudden noise broke the tension though —footsteps, echoing from the hall outside. Jungwon straightened, eyes narrowing, before he turned to you.
"Someone’s coming," he said, his tone a little more hopeful. "Let’s see if we can get out of here before Peeves realizes we’re not giving him the satisfaction of getting angry."
You nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Sounds like a plan."
Jungwon gave a quick nod and moved toward the door, banging on it with the flat of his palm. You joined him, calling out through the thick wood. “Hey! Is anyone out there? We’re locked in here!”
For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. Then, faintly, the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears. Your heart leapt. Someone had heard you!
“Keep banging,” Jungwon said, his tone lighter now, and you both resumed your effort.
Finally, the footsteps stopped just outside the door. There was a brief pause before a familiar voice called out, “What’s going on in there?”
“Minji?” you called, recognizing the voice of your fellow prefect. Relief flooded through you. “It’s me! Unlock the door!”
There was a muffled sound—probably Minji sighing in exasperation—before you heard her mutter a quick unlocking spell. The door clicked open, and before either of you could adjust, it swung outward, leaving you and Jungwon stumbling forward into the hall.
You nearly tripped over your own feet, but Jungwon’s hand shot out, gripping your arm to steady you.
Minji stood there, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Jungwon emerging together, slightly disheveled and far too close for comfort. Her gaze flickered from you to Jungwon and back again, her eyebrows arching in silent question.
“What—?” she started, but you cut her off quickly, desperate to explain before her imagination ran wild.
“Peeves locked us in,” you blurted out, gesturing toward the now-open door. “He thought it’d be funny to trap us in that tiny room and leave us there.”
Minji’s eyes narrowed slightly, her expression skeptical. “Right,” she said slowly, her tone clearly implying she wasn’t entirely convinced.
You glanced at Jungwon, hoping he’d back you up, but the sight of him made your words falter. His face was still slightly flushed, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. His usually composed demeanor was cracked just enough to reveal how flustered he was. And worse, he was still standing far too close to you, his hand lingering on your arm as if he’d forgotten to let go.
“Uh, right?” you prompted him, your voice a little too high-pitched.
“Yeah,” Jungwon said quickly, finally releasing your arm and taking a small step back. His voice was steady, but you noticed how his eyes avoided Minji’s and instead flicked toward the floor. “It was just Peeves being Peeves. Nothing more.”
Minji crossed her arms, her lips twitching upward in a knowing smirk. “Uh-huh. Nothing more.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, and you quickly turned the conversation back to the situation at hand. “Anyway, thanks for letting us out,” you said, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “We were starting to think we’d be stuck in there all night.”
“Anytime,” Minji replied, her smirk deepening. Her gaze lingered on the both of you for a moment longer, and you could practically see the gears turning in her head.
“Well,” she said finally, taking a step back, “I’ll leave you two to... whatever it is you’re doing. Try not to get locked in another room together, yeah?”
“Minji!” you protested, but she was already walking away, her laughter echoing down the hall.
You sighed, running a hand over your face. “Great. Now she’s never going to let this go.”
Jungwon chuckled softly beside you, and you turned to look at him. His usual teasing expression was back, but there was something softer in his eyes now, something almost... fond.
“Well,” he said, his voice light, “at least we’ve got a good story to tell, right?”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “Sure. A great story.”
For a moment, the hallway was silent. You stood there, staring at Jungwon, and he stared back. His dark eyes seemed to search yours, like he was trying to figure out what to say—or maybe he was waiting for you to say something first.
The weight of his gaze made your stomach twist, and your cheeks grew warm under the tension that hung in the air. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—to break it, but the words wouldn’t come.
Jungwon shifted slightly, leaning against the wall. His expression softened, the usual teasing edge gone, replaced by something gentler. “Hey,” he started, his voice low and almost hesitant.
It was too much.
“Goodbye!” you blurted, your voice louder than you intended.
Jungwon blinked, startled, but before he could respond, you were already turning on your heel, speeding off down the hallway like a first-year trying not to miss the train to Hogwarts.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your soulmark tingled faintly under your sleeve, but you refused to look back. You didn’t trust yourself to face him—not after everything that had just happened.
What was wrong with you? Why did he always make you feel this way? It wasn’t fair.
“Goodbye?” Jungwon called after you, his tone incredulous but amused. You could hear the faint chuckle in his voice, and it only made you pick up your pace.
You turned the corner and pressed your back against the wall, out of his line of sight. Your hand flew to your chest as if that would calm the rapid thumping of your heart.
What was that? Why did it feel like every time you were near him, the air grew thinner, the world smaller?
You groaned softly, covering your face with your hands. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Jungwon was your rival—your frustrating, irritating rival who lived to tease you and get under your skin.
So why did it feel like he was becoming so much more?
--
The crisp autumn air carried the comforting scent of butterbeer and roasted chestnuts as you strolled through the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade. It was your first free weekend in what felt like forever, and you were determined to enjoy it. You’d already picked up a few books from Scrivenshaft's, a bag of Honeydukes' finest chocolates nestled in your arms, and had plans to end the afternoon with a warm mug of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.
It was supposed to be a peaceful day.
That is, until you heard the familiar sound of raised voices near the outskirts of the village.
At first, you didn’t think much of it. Arguments weren’t uncommon in Hogsmeade, especially with so many students running around. But as you drew closer, a nagging feeling began to creep up your spine.
You froze when you recognized the voices.
Jungwon and Soobin.
Heart pounding, you hurried toward the commotion, weaving through a small cluster of curious onlookers. The scene that greeted you was enough to make your jaw drop.
Jungwon and Soobin stood face-to-face, their wands clenched tightly in their hands. The tension between them crackled in the air like static electricity, and neither seemed willing to back down.
“I’m saying,” Jungwon snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut glass, “you’re wasting her time. If you actually cared about her, you’d stop pretending you have a chance and leave her alone.”
Soobin’s jaw clenched, his usually soft demeanor hardening into something unrecognizable. “And what makes you think you have any right to decide that? You don’t own her, Jungwon. She’s not some prize for you to claim.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
They were arguing… about you?
You took an instinctive step forward, but neither of them noticed you. Their focus was entirely on each other, the frustration and unspoken emotions they’d been holding back for weeks finally spilling out into the open.
“She deserves better than someone who doesn’t even know what she wants,” Jungwon hissed, his knuckles white around his wand. “You don’t know her like I do.”
“And what do you know, Jungwon?” Soobin shot back, his voice rising. “That you’ve been dragging this on for years, pretending you don’t care, only to step in the moment she starts looking at someone else? You’re just jealous.”
Jealous? Jungwon’s expression darkened at the word, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Jealous? Don’t flatter yourself, Soobin. This has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me when you keep butting in!” Soobin snapped, his dimples deepening as his grip on his wand tightened. “For once, stop acting like the world revolves around you and let her decide what she wants!”
The words hit like a lightning strike, and for a moment, Jungwon faltered.
“Enough!”
Your voice rang out before you even realized you’d spoken, startling both boys. They turned to you in unison, their expressions shifting from anger to surprise—and then something close to guilt.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you stared them down. “Are you seriously fighting over me? In the middle of Hogsmeade?”
Neither of them responded, their silence only fueling your frustration.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you two,” you continued, your tone firm, “but I’m not some object for you to argue about. I don’t need either of you deciding what’s best for me or who I should spend my time with.”
Soobin looked away, his shoulders slumping slightly, while Jungwon’s gaze remained locked on yours. There was something in his eyes—something vulnerable—that made your stomach twist, but you refused to let it distract you.
“If you can’t act like the grown wizards you’re supposed to be, then maybe I don’t want to spend time with either of you,” you said, your voice softening but still laced with disappointment.
You turned on your heel, clutching your bag of sweets tightly as you marched back toward the village square. The crowd of onlookers quickly dispersed, whispering amongst themselves as they returned to their shopping.
Behind you, you heard Soobin let out a frustrated sigh.
“This isn’t over,” Jungwon muttered, his voice low enough that he probably thought you wouldn’t hear.
But you did.
For days after the argument in Hogsmeade, you stuck to your plan. You avoided both Jungwon and Soobin with a steadfast determination, pouring all your energy into your studies and prefect duties. It wasn’t easy, not when they seemed to pop up everywhere you went, their longing glances and hesitant attempts to talk to you a constant reminder of the rift between you all.
But you were determined to teach them a lesson.
You didn’t stop to acknowledge Soobin when you passed him in the halls, even when his usual cheerful greeting was replaced with a soft, “Hey…” that trailed off when you didn’t respond. You ignored the way his shoulders slumped, or how his dimples didn’t show as much when he smiled at others.
And Jungwon? You didn’t even glance his way during patrols, even when you could feel the weight of his gaze following your every move. You ignored the way your soulmark burned faintly whenever he was near.
It was torture.
Not just for them, but for you too.
You told yourself it was necessary. That they needed to understand how their actions affected you. But that didn’t stop the ache in your chest when you caught Soobin sitting alone at the Gryffindor table during meals, his usually lively voice replaced by silence. It didn’t stop the pang of guilt when you walked into the library and found Jungwon there, staring blankly at an open book, his jaw clenched tightly as he pretended not to notice you.
It hurt.
It hurt to see Soobin’s dimples fade, to watch Jungwon’s confident smirk replaced by a quiet stillness. And it hurt to know that you were the reason for it.
But you didn’t stop.
Every time your resolve wavered, you reminded yourself of that day in Hogsmeade. Of the argument you’d walked in on, the way they’d fought over you like you were some prize to be claimed. You reminded yourself that they needed to learn that you weren’t theirs to argue over.
Still, the distance weighed on you.
There were moments when you almost caved. When Soobin would pass you a small note in class, his handwriting shaky but hopeful, asking if you’d like to meet in the library. When Jungwon would linger after patrols, his expression softening as he quietly said your name, only for you to turn away.
Each time, you swallowed the lump in your throat and pushed forward, ignoring the way your chest tightened and your soulmark burned.
But the worst moment came one evening during dinner.
You were sitting with your friends, trying to focus on the conversation, when you glanced toward the Slytherin table. Jungwon sat at the far end, his head resting on one hand as he absently pushed food around on his plate. His usual liveliness was gone, replaced by a quiet, almost defeated air that made your heart twist painfully in your chest.
Your gaze flickered to the Gryffindor table, where Soobin was seated with a group of his housemates. He was laughing, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His dimples appeared faintly, but they lacked the warmth you’d grown so fond of.
For a moment, you considered getting up. Walking over to them, breaking the silence you’d forced upon yourself and them.
But you didn’t.
Instead, you stayed rooted to your seat, gripping your fork tightly as you forced yourself to look away.
You told yourself this was for the best. That they needed to understand how much their actions had hurt you. But as you sat there, ignoring the ache in your chest and the burn of your soulmark, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were hurting yourself just as much as you were hurting them.
You questioned if this was worth it.
You spent the next few days lost in thought, unable to focus on anything except the whirlwind of confusion inside your mind. The more you thought, the more questions piled up, each one more pressing than the last.
Did Soobin like you enough to consider it love? You could feel the tenderness in his eyes, the way he always seemed to know when you needed a laugh or when your mood shifted. His affection felt genuine, but was it love? Or was it just his natural warmth and kindness? You wanted to believe he cared for you deeply, but could you really be sure?
And Jungwon… You ran your fingers over your soulmark absentmindedly, tracing the faint burn that seemed to pulse with his presence. Was he drawn to you because of the bond you shared, or was there more to it? Did he really like you as a person, or was he just following the pull of fate, following the path that had been set for him? His actions made it hard to tell, and every time you caught a glimpse of his conflicted expression, you only felt more lost.
You sat in your room that evening, a blanket wrapped tightly around you as the cool air from the window brushed against your cheeks. You stared blankly at the wall, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. You’d never been one to let yourself get overwhelmed by emotions, but right now, it was impossible not to.
What am I supposed to do? You couldn’t keep ignoring them, couldn’t keep pretending that it didn’t matter how they were affected by your silence. But you also couldn’t let yourself be pushed into a corner, forced to choose between them just because of some soulmark. You were so much more than that, weren’t you?
The tears started without warning—hot, bitter drops that slid down your face as the realization hit. You had no answers. You had no idea what you were doing, what the right choice even was.
The room felt too small, the weight of everything around you closing in. You buried your face in your hands, trying to stifle the sobs that wracked your body. You were exhausted from holding everything in, from pretending that the pain of making this decision didn’t tear you apart.
Why is this so hard? You thought bitterly, as the tears continued to fall, your vision blurring with each passing second. You hated this feeling. You hated that you could hurt both Soobin and Jungwon by simply existing between them, by trying to find your own way without causing pain.
You wanted to be strong, to find clarity, but all you felt now was the sting of uncertainty and the emptiness of not knowing where to turn.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but your heart still ached, the silent cry you had been holding in for so long now finally spilling over.
How had everything gotten so complicated?
--
You had tried to go about your day as best as you could, despite the storm of emotions brewing inside of you. You needed a distraction, something to pull you out of your spiraling thoughts. But of course, the universe had other plans.
As you walked down one of the quieter hallways, lost in your own thoughts, you failed to notice the telltale signs of Peeves’ latest prank: a small, harmless-looking puddle of water on the floor. Or, what you thought was harmless. As your foot landed in it, the floor suddenly gave way beneath you, and before you could even react, a burst of confetti and loud horns went off above your head.
The water splashed up around you, and your foot slipped, sending you sprawling to the ground with a sharp thud. The confetti rained down on you, a mocking reminder of Peeves’ relentless mischief.
You groaned, pushing yourself up with shaky hands, the sharp pain in your ankle telling you that this wasn’t just an embarrassing fall. You forced yourself to stand, wincing with each movement. It took everything in you to push through the pain, but you knew you couldn’t stay there. You had to get to the hospital wing.
It felt like an eternity as you limped through the halls, your leg throbbing in protest with every step. But eventually, you made it. Madam Pomfrey immediately ushered you onto a bed and began checking you over. You winced as she poked and prodded at your ankle, muttering under her breath.
You had never been one to ask for attention, but it was clear you couldn’t hide the injury, not when it was as obvious as it was. After Madam Pomfrey wrapped up your ankle and began to administer a pain-relieving potion, you closed your eyes, trying to relax. You really just wanted a moment of peace, to recover from everything.
But peace didn’t seem to be on the menu that day.
The door to the hospital wing creaked open, and you opened your eyes to see both Soobin and Jungwon stepping inside. Their eyes locked on you instantly, their expressions unreadable. Soobin was the first to speak, his voice warm but laced with concern.
“Hey… Are you alright?” he asked softly, taking a few steps forward.
You nodded, trying to smile, but the discomfort from your ankle made it difficult to do so. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little… well, you know, Peeves. Same old story.”
Jungwon, who had been standing a bit further away, finally moved closer. His gaze flicked from you to Soobin, then back to you, his jaw clenching just slightly. "You’re really lucky you didn’t hurt yourself worse," he said, his tone more curt than usual.
You didn’t miss the tension between the two of them. The way Soobin hovered near you, his eyes full of concern, and Jungwon’s more guarded expression. The air between them felt thick, like the two of them were both trying to control the emotions they didn’t want to express.
Soobin, sensing the silence hanging between them, cleared his throat and gave you a soft smile. “I’ll make sure you’re okay. We can talk later, right? After you rest a bit.”
You nodded again, grateful for his kindness. “Yeah, thanks, Soobin.”
Jungwon was still standing off to the side, looking like he was holding back a thousand thoughts he didn’t want to share. He glanced at Soobin once more, before finally turning back to you, his expression softening—just a little.
“You should rest,” he murmured, his voice almost hesitant.
You met his gaze, but before you could say anything, both of them stepped back.
After they left, the tension between them still lingered in the air. You could see it in the way they avoided eye contact, in the short, clipped exchanges they had with each other.
--
Your ankle had finally healed, and you found yourself walking through the hallways, your steps purposefully quick, but your mind racing even faster. You had spent days trying to sort through your feelings, to understand everything that had been happening. Now, you knew exactly who you needed to talk to.
You spotted him from a distance — standing by one of the doorways, lost in thought. It was as if everything else around you faded into the background. Your heart started to beat a little faster, and before you could second-guess yourself, you crossed the hallway and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him with you toward an empty classroom.
He stumbled for a moment, clearly caught off guard by your sudden action. "Hey, what’s—" he started, but you didn’t let him finish. You pulled him all the way inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click, your breath quickening in your chest. The room was dim, the sunlight filtering through the tall windows casting long shadows on the stone floor.
When you let go of his arm, you stepped back, eyes not leaving his face. He blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to something more guarded, almost unsure. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice quiet.
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you finally asked the question that had been eating at you for so long. "Jungwon," you began, your voice steady but laced with uncertainty. "What do you feel about me?"
His eyes softened, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. The silence between you stretched, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. He seemed to gather himself, his gaze never wavering from yours, before he finally answered.
"I..." Jungwon hesitated, running a hand through his hair, and you saw the vulnerability in his eyes. "From the very first time I saw you, sitting there, waiting to be sorted into a house... I knew I wanted to get to know you. Even if it meant teasing you at first, I just... I wanted to be around you."
You could feel your chest tightening, the words he was saying hitting you harder than you expected.
He took a step closer, his voice softer now, almost like a confession. "But as the years passed, my feelings for you... they grew stronger. It was more than just wanting to know you, it was about needing to be with you." He paused, as if the weight of the truth was difficult to say. "Every time I saw you, my heart would beat faster. My palms would get sweaty. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And when I saw your Patronus... and I realized you were my soulmate, I was so happy. I thought everything was perfect." Jungwon’s gaze dropped for a moment, his voice turning quiet. "But then I found out you were hiding it from me. You kept it from me, and it hurt, more than I can explain."
You wanted to say something, to tell him that you were sorry, but you waited.
"As much as it hurt, my love for you didn’t change. It only made me want to be with you even more, to be the one who gets to be with you. But..." He glanced away briefly, as if gathering his thoughts before looking back at you with a pained expression. "When I saw you with Soobin, when I saw you laughing and being so close with him... it hurt. I couldn’t help but feel jealous. I wanted that to be me, not him. I wanted to be the one making you smile like that."
The words hung in the air, thick with emotion, and you felt your heart twist. The truth was out.
You took a shaky breath, your mind spinning with everything he had just said. "Jungwon..." you whispered, not sure what else to say.
His gaze softened, and for a brief moment, he looked like the person you had always known—the one who had been by your side all these years, even when you didn’t realize it. "I just want to be with you."
Your heart raced, the weight of his words sinking deep inside you. It was a confession that you had been waiting to hear.
Jungwon took a step closer, his hand reaching out slightly, as if unsure whether to close the distance between you.
You reached up without thinking, your hand trembling slightly as you cupped his cheek, your fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin. The contact sent a wave of emotions crashing over you���uncertainty, longing, but also an overwhelming sense of rightness. For a brief moment, the whole world seemed to pause, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet room, hearts racing in sync.
Jungwon’s eyes searched yours, his breath coming in shallow bursts. You could feel his pulse beneath your fingers, and something deep inside you whispered that this was the moment. No more hesitations, no more confusion.
Before you could second guess yourself, you leaned in. His breath caught in his throat, and for the briefest second, it felt like time stood still.
Then your lips met, soft and hesitant at first, but it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen. It was as if the world around you melted away, leaving only the connection between the two of you. Jungwon’s hands moved quickly, finding their way around your waist, pulling you closer against him, the warmth of his embrace a comforting anchor.
You responded in kind, your arms sliding up to wrap around his neck, pulling yourself even closer. The kiss was both gentle and urgent, a mixture of emotions that neither of you had fully expressed until now.
Your soulmark burned to life beneath your skin, the familiar warmth spreading through you in a wave, almost like a gentle hum.
You broke the kiss just enough to look at him, your foreheads resting together as you caught your breath. Jungwon’s eyes were dark with emotion, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. He was staring at you as if he had just found something he had been searching for all this time.
"I never thought it would be like this," you whispered, your voice thick with the emotions you couldn’t quite put into words.
"Neither did I," he replied softly, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. "But it feels... right. Doesn’t it?"
You nodded, your heart fluttering in your chest as you leaned back in, your lips meeting his again. The kiss started softly, a gentle exploration of each other's mouths, but soon it grew more intense.
Jungwon's breaths became heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he held you close, your hands entwined in his hair.
Suddenly, with a surge of strength, Jungwon lifted you up, his arms around your waist, and set you gently on the desk behind you.
As you landed on the desk, your arms instinctively went underneath Jungwon's Slytherin robe, your hands finding the warmth of his skin. You could feel the muscles of his back as he held you in place.
Jungwon's kisses became more urgent, his tongue teasing and exploring, as if he couldn't get enough of you.
You, feeling the intensity of Jungwon's kisses, decided to playfully pull back, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. As you withdrew, Jungwon's lips followed, his eyes sparkling with a hint of surprise.
"You like that, do you?" you teased, your voice soft and filled with amusement. "Can't get enough of me, huh?"
Jungwon's lips curled into a grin, a smile of mischief. "I could kiss you all day," he replied, his voice low. "Your lips are like a drug, and I'm addicted."
You giggled, a sound that was both playful and inviting. "Well, you better not overdose then," you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Or we might have a problem."
Jungwon's grin widened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours gently. "I'll take that risk," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Because being with you is worth any risk."
You melted into his embrace, your arms slipping around his neck, inviting him to continue the dance of kisses. Jungwon's hands, which had been roaming your body with a possessive touch, now caressed your cheeks, his thumbs tracing the curve of your lips.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and adoration. "And your kisses... they drive me wild."
His touch was gentle but insistent, like he couldn't quite get enough of you, and honestly, neither could you. Every kiss, every caress sent a thrill through you.
His lips trailed to your jaw, then to the sensitive spot behind your ear, making you shiver involuntarily. "I never thought it would feel like this," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Like... everything I’ve been waiting for, all at once."
You smiled softly, your hands sliding down to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart, matching your own. "I never thought it would happen, either," you whispered back. "But I’m so glad it did."
Jungwon pulled back slightly, looking at you with eyes full of wonder, as if seeing you for the first time. "You make everything feel right," he said, his voice a tender confession. "Like I’m where I’m supposed to be."
Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I feel the same way," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I always have."
For a moment, you both just stayed there, caught in the magic of the moment, the silence between you full of understanding and comfort.
Then, with a soft laugh, Jungwon pulled you closer again, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. "I think we’re going to be just fine, don’t you?" he said, his lips brushing against your forehead.
You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Yeah," you whispered, your voice filled with certainty. "We’re going to be more than fine."
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Taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @starf4lls @obyyyy
Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3
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salemlunaa · 3 days ago
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🎀 NEW IDEA: ASK CHAT GPT 🎀
ꨄ Use AI to your advantage when it comes to manifesting and shifting…
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Although AI can get a little weird and scary sometimes, it’s actually such a great way to get information, motivation and inspiration all in one
Instead of hounding bloggers for the same thing all the time. Go to Chat GPT.
Now, how about i give you a few examples, let’s imagine someone called maya 𖨆
maya is having trouble because she feels like when she tries to induce the void, she always falls asleep and that’s taken away so many years from her dream life
she asks Chat GPT: “I keep falling asleep every time I try to induce the void, I feel so frustrated all the time and I need some help”
Chat GPT answers: “Hi Maya, falling asleep during void practice is common, so don’t be too hard on yourself. One way to combat this is by practicing at a time when you feel awake and alert, like in the morning or after a light exercise session. Another tip is to sit up in a comfortable position rather than lying down, as it can help you stay focused and avoid dozing off. Keep practicing with patience—it’s all part of the process!”
now let’s imagine joey 𖨆
joey is feeling frustrated because he feels like he hasn’t progressed, he’s been in the community for 2+ years and really wants his dream life
he asks: “I’m feeling so frustrated and upset, like I want to give up, I’ve been trying to induce the void and get my dream life for over 2 years, I need motivation”
Chat GPT responds; “Hi Joey, I know it’s tough, but remember that persistence is key—sometimes the journey teaches you just as much as the destination. Instead of focusing on the time passed, celebrate the fact that you’re still trying, which shows incredible resilience. Take a short break if you need to, and reconnect with why you started. Visualize your dream life vividly, and remind yourself it’s worth the effort. Progress might be closer than you think!”
now chloe 𖨆 is feeling really powerless lately, circumstances hit her hard on some days and she feels stuck, she wants to be reminded how the void is so possible and so easy and she’s so capable of it all
she asks: “Can you remind me how powerful I am? Some days circumstances hit so hard and it gets thought!! Can you explain manifesting from a logical point of view to remind me how easy it all is?”
Chat GPT responds: “Hi Chloe, let me remind you of this simple truth: you are the creator of your reality, the God of your world. From a logical point of view, everything you experience stems from your thoughts, beliefs, and focus. Circumstances are just reflections—they only hold power because you give it to them. Shift your focus, and the reflection changes effortlessly. When you truly accept that you’re the one in control, nothing can stand in your way. You’ve always had the power!”
Now you can see how well it works!! You can even use them to give you affirmations, help you with vaunts. You can be as specific as you want, trauma dump as much as you want and say whatever you want without crossing boundaries or being judged. You can use Chat GPT to script, i’ve used it so many times and it has given me so many ideas. And your script will still feel like your own, just see it as your collaborating with Chat GPT and that it you helps put your thoughts into words.
You can even use it when you’re having one of those days and just need to be reminded of the fact that you’re in charge. You can even use it for some tough love or to comfort you as you vent.
Like guys you can do so many things with this, I love Chat GPT so much we’re locked in like this:
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LMFAOOO IM JOKING (or am i? 😏)
But in all seriousness, some of you need this. Flooding bloggers asks and dms with questions that they have repeated the answers to multiple times, asking things you damn well know the answer to or just asking for motivation repeatedly can take away from people who actually have a good question to ask and actually need help. Like fogging up a blogger’s inbox repeatedly venting about the 3d, or asking “hOw Do I gEt iNtO tHe VoId?” knowing damn well you know the answer to that, will prevent a blogger from noticing someone who actually has a good question that many people might also have and would actually spark an interesting discussion.
So just ask Chat GPT, it’s okay to have doubts creep in from time to time, it’s okay to need a reminder of basic things, it’s okay to forget how powerful you are sometimes, but you can literally ask Chat GPT to help you with that and it will. Instead of waiting around for bloggers to answer your dm or ask just to say the same thing, you can get actual help, and get it when you want it and how you want it.
Why don’t you ask “explain the law of assumption to me like i’m 5”
“explain the void state to me from a scientific view to help me believe”
“give me some dream body affirmations”
“i’ve been so demotivated, remind me who tf i am again”
“I’m going to come from a filthy rich family when I permashift, can you give me some £10Million+ per year jobs that my desired parents can do”
“I feel so lazy today, bully me into inducing the pure consciousness instead of procrastinating”
you don’t need to harass bloggers for these things when you can have immediate access to the answers you seek.
ꨄ 🧸🎀 Go download Chat GPT and knock yourself out!! 💋
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kisses4reid · 2 days ago
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scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)
synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.
genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff
warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness
w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.
a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)
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The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.
Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.
Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.
He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.
Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.
And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?
You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.
And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.
“Are you okay?”
You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”
His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.
It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.
He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.
“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”
You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.
Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.
“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.
“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”
Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.
You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.
“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.
“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.
“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”
Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“
You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”
“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”
“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.
Your boyfriend. Ugh.
You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”
He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”
You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.
“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.
“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”
You’re overreacting.
That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.
Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.
The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.
Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.
But… what if?
There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.
“You okay?”
“Um…”
You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”
You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.
“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”
He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.
Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.
“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”
You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.
My man, you thought with a smile.
My man, you shivered.
“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,
“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.
“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.
God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.
“Yeah, just feeling-“
“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”
It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.
It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.
But I’m overreacting.
“It’s nothing.”
Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.
You heard his sigh.
“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”
You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,
“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“
“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.
His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.
Spencer gulped, “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,
“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“
“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“
“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“
“Wait so-”
You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.
“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.
He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.
The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.
You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.
You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.
It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.
He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.
You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.
You couldn’t hide anything from him.
“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”
Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.
“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean���” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.
I just hope it’s not with him.
He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”
“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.
Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.
No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’
No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.
You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.
You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”
taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner
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ellieputellas · 12 hours ago
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can you write roommate!alexia smut
caught in the act | a. putellas x reader
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— You catch your roommate Alexia touching herself to your photos.
tags: roommate!Alexia, barçaB!reader, smut, masturbation, mentions of fingering, mention of age gap, a bit of degradation and dirty talk, not proofread 🔞 wc: 2k+
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Alexia hated having you as a roommate.
It wasn't because of the fact that you had a bad habit of putting off washing the dishes until the next morning; she learned to deal with it and wash them for you whenever it did bother her. It also wasn't because you were always watching Netflix past midnight, at full volume while she tried to get enough sleep for early morning training the next day, fully knowing the walls between your rooms were paper thin. She's learned to fall asleep to the sound of Brooklyn 99 or whatever American TV show you were addicted to at the time. It wasn’t even the fact that she’d have to set her alarm at least 30 minutes ahead of the usual time she’d wake up just so she could force you out of bed so you could both attend your respective training sessions on time.
Instead, she hated how oblivious and clueless you were to how she felt about you.
Just now, there you were in the living room watching a dumb show on Netflix as you simultaneously swiped on Bumble. She hated seeing you looking at other girls, or even getting all dolled up for dates with other girls.
She knew your type. You liked tall, fellow athletes with great style. She wondered why you never noticed her when she fit your type so well. She rolled her eyes at the sight of you fiddling with the dating app and just wanted to return to her room but you already noticed her presence.
"Hey, Alexia." You said calmly. “Come over here.”
She sighed. "Yeah?"
"What do you think about her?" You said as you chewed on the chips you were loudly snacking on. (That was another thing Alexia let you get away with — snacking everywhere and anywhere leading to a mild ant problem.)
Alexia sat beside you on the couch and leaned in to look at your phone. It was someone from Levante’s B team. Alexia frowned. She had to admit. This girl was undeniably hot with her tattoos and fit body but she knew she looked just as good as this player. If not that, she sure as hell was a better player. That should have been some merit to her.
"She’s okay..." It was all she could say to you. She didn’t want to come off as the jealous roommate.
"Really? I kinda think she's smoking hot." You said with a confused look. “She’s the hottest player I’ve played against on the pitch.”
Alexia rolled her eyes and wanted to make a snide comment but let it slide.
“She asked me out after we switched shirts after our match, and I smelled her shirt and it smelled good as fuck.” You shared, making Alexia roll her eyes again. “Plus, she’s taller than I am and you know how that’s my type… but our texts have been stale and boring as fuck.”
Alexia shrugged and tried to focus on the show you were shamelessly ignoring already. “Then just don’t go out with her.”
You sighed. “Yeah… but there is this rookie footballer I matched with on Bumble, she plays for…” You continued to tell Alexia about the other girls you were talking to but she just didn’t give a fuck.
She didn’t wanna know anything about the other girls you were seeing while she’s been into you for so long.
"Anyway, can you help me pick photos from my weekend trip with Emma? She's so great at taking photos that I feel like I have to make two separate posts on instagram just to include all of my hot photos." You said before giving your phone to Alexia. "Just swipe through them and heart all the photos you like."
As soon as she grabbed your phone, she felt her body heat up. The first photo of you was you in front of the pool with your arms up, laughing gleefully. You were wearing the tiniest bikini with a bra top just big enough to cover your nipples and that incredibly skimpy underwear.
All Alexia could think about was pushing them to the side and fucking you hard with her fingers.
Alexia blinked. "You're so...." She couldn't find the words. "Naked?"
You laughed at the older woman’s reaction. "That's all you could say?"
Alexia ignored you, completely fixated by the photos of you. Alexia liked the first photo and proceeded to swipe. The second photo was you with your back turned, exposing your ass. Alexia could feel her mouth salivate as the dirtiest thoughts entered her mind. She kept scrolling, admiring every curve and crevice of your body. She loved the way your boobs spilled over your bra and the way your thong rode up your ass and accentuated your perfect hips. She loved your collarbones but she loved the thought of marking them with her mouth more.
She was practically liking every photo, unable to think objectively of what works on Instagram or whatever. She loved seeing you this exposed.
"You never dress like this usually." Alexia commented, still going back and forth with your photos. She was pretending to be analytical with your photos but her mind was just filled with obscenities.
You huffed. “You only see me in a kit or here at home when I dress like a slob. You don’t know what I dress like.”
Alexia furrowed her eyebrows. “I’ve seen you get dressed up for dates. You’re not usually so…” She shook her head. “Whatever. I never would have imagined you’d like wearing something so tiny.”
Alexia had to swallow as her mouth had been watering at the sight of your photos. You chuckled, oblivious to your roommate's reaction. "Well, you would know that I actually do love tiny swimwear if only you went swimming with us more.”
Alexia took a mental note to say yes to every opportunity to see you in a skimpy bikini. "Still, you never post stuff like this. You only ever post game photos or food photos. This is just out of character for you.” She added on. "You must be posting to impress someone, huh?"
You furrowed your eyebrows and rolled your eyes at her. "I feel like I’m just more grown now. Like, grown enough to post more skin.” You explained. “Besides, can’t I post for myself?”
Wish you would post for me, Alexia thought.
You looked over at Alexia who was still looking through your photos. "God, what's taking you so long? Mesmerized by my tits?"
"You're so cocky." It was all Alexia could say as she blushed. She felt like it was so wrong to be thirsting over her younger roommate like this but she couldn’t help it. You were exactly what she wanted.
You chuckled. "I told you. Emma took really good photos of me! I know I look hot in those."
You looked through the photos Alexia liked and realized the only photos of you she didn't like were the ones where you were covered up. You stifled a chuckle. "Okay, I guess I should post these immediately since it would be so selfish of me to deprive the world of these photos any longer."
"So arrogant." Alexia scoffed under her breath but unbeknownst to you, it turned her on. She loved it when you got all confident. It made her want to praise you and degrade you at the same time. "I'm going back to my room to review some things for some brand deal. Text me if you wanna order food or cook for dinner later."
You absentmindedly nodded as you typed up the perfect Instagram caption and chose the perfect thirst-trap song to go with the Instagram post.
Alexia headed back in her room and immediately pulled out her iPad, refreshing her Instagram feed incessantly. "C'mon, c'mon..." She muttered under her breath. "Just post already."
Finally, your post popped up.
Alexia felt like she couldn't breathe as she was finally able to get a better look at them through the bigger screen. She was finally free to zoom in to your perfectly shaped tits without worrying you'd see. She bit her lip.
It was almost a built-in instinct or bodily response to her the way she immediately positioned herself in front of her iPad; she wasted no time. She propped the device on her bed, blasted a song loud enough to mask her noise, swiftly took off her bottoms, and eventually, guided her hands to feel her own slick with her fingers. She was soaked already just from seeing you.
"Fuck," She muttered as she began rubbing herself, looking at the photo of you on her device. She wished she could have a gigantic TV screen just so she could see more of you at a bigger scale. She wanted to be overwhelmed by the sight of you — to be consumed by your beauty.
She rubbed her clit in circles as she kept her eyes glued on the screen. She cursed again. She thought about your tits. She wondered how they'd feel in her hands. She wanted to feel the softness against her rough and imposing hands; she wanted to know if that kind of touch would make you whimper. She wondered what colors your nipples were and how they'd look and feel... and taste. She so badly wanted to push her tongue against them.
Her legs shivered as she imagined taking your breast in her mouth, sucking on it mercilessly as you moaned under her.
In reality, Alexia was alone in the darkness of her room — her tanned skin illuminated by the sole source of light from her device that blasted music to mask her grunts and the obscene sounds of her wetness.
But in her imagination, Alexia was in your room on top of you, sucking on your breasts as she positioned her knee against your core. In her imagination, you loved to beg and whine. So there you were, underneath her, squirming as she sucked on your nipple and used her hands to play with the other one. She just could tell you were the sensitive type and the idea of you almost teary-eyed due to sheer pleasure caused by her made her even wetter.
She opened her eyes once again to catch a glimpse of you in that one photo where you had a serious face as you slightly bent over. She groaned as she caught sight once again of the flesh of your boobs pressing against the fabric of your bikini. "Fucking whore." It escaped her mouth in a grunt.
In her imagination, you were dressed in the same skimpy bikini. She had your bra cups pushed to the side to grant her easy access to lick all over your boobs, leaving the occasional mark whenever she desired.
"Please, Alexia." She could practically hear your voice say it. "Fuck me now."
Alexia plunged her fingers into her cunt, causing her to grunt loudly as she pumped in and out of herself as mercilessly as she would have with you.
She was fixated on the thought of her fingers thrusting so hard in and out of you that your tits jiggled with every thrust. Alexia somehow felt you were the type to moan loudly, grab your own tits, and beg to fuck her deeper.
"Alexia! Fuck me!"
"You want me so bad, huh? You fucking slut?" She groaned under her breath, almost breathless and winded from how rough she was fucking herself. "I'll fuck you so hard, you'd go stupid."
"Alexia, harder! Please!" The imaginary voice in her brain told her. It felt so realistic
"Yeah?" She called out your name, almost in the form of an animalistic grunt. "You fucking want it harder? You a fucking slut for me?"
She increased the speed of her thrusting, causing her to moan loudly in succession. "Fuck," She said, followed by calling out your name. "Tell me who you belong to."
She pumped in and out of herself, causing her to convulse in the building pressure inside her. Her eyes were shut close but the photo of you in your bikini was permanently burned inside her mind.
"I belong to you!" Her imagination called out.
"Say my name then." She groaned.
"Alexia," It sounded so soft and gentle.
"Louder." She growled as she imagined that it was your pussy she was roughly thrusting into. Her legs shook uncontrollably as she felt herself approaching orgasm. “Say it.”
"Alexia?!" It was practically an exclamation. It felt so real that your voice echoed in her ears.
As Alexia opened her eyes, she was met by the sight of you standing at the door of her room with a shocked face. Almost immediately after, Alexia moaned out loud as her orgasm arrived.
It took half a second for her to realize that she wasn't imagining it anymore. You were there, standing and watching her fuck herself while her obnoxiously larged iPad displayed a photo of you.
"Oh shit." She was in trouble.
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a/n: not proofread. part 2 anyone? (also thank u for ur requests!)
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bcbryar · 2 days ago
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Text from Tom's music video:
TommyInnit just posted a song and a video, and in the video there's a bunch of quick, flashing screens with text. I screenshotted them all and transcribed them in this post (below the cut because it's kind of long).
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If you find a corner of this world wide web that has any substance at all, then please stick to it. The hundreds of millions of people that now place absolutely no value on their time, their precious time, and spend it watching soulless content designed to hold their attention is depressing. This all depressed me. There is so little substance in this mess of a world wide web. So little heart or soul or love. If you find any substance, stick to it.
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A Tribute To Minecraft, The Great Potato War, TheOriginalAce's Q&A's, Ludwig's 2020 streams, SMPLive Talent Show. This was everything to me.
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Status is irrational & nature is cyclical It's attention porn. Don't get addicted to it. It's nothing. It means nothing. They are more insecure than you. But what the fuck do I know?
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When I was a boy, alone, this meant everything to me. I found my people. My place. Along the way I was a part of something that really meant something. That is the only good bit. Whatever I did that meant something, that is the only good bit.
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I CAN'T WATCH BACK MY OLD VIDEOS BECAUSE EVERYONE IN THEM WASN'T WHO THEY SAID THEY WERE. DO YOU KNOW HOW SAD THIS MAKES ME FEEL. DO YOU KNOW HOW SAD I HAVE FELT ALL YEAR.
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HOW COULD ANYONE POSSIBLY FIND OUT WHO THEY ARE WHEN YOU ARE ALL IMMERSED IN THIS NEEDLESS, SELF INDULGENT SPIRAL OF INSTANT GRATIFICATION AND DISTRACTION. THIS IS NOT GOOD FOR YOU.
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[Text is upside down in the video] I don't think I trust anyone here. I don't think anyone trusts anyone here. the poor 12 year old watching this sad ass video when he subscribed for funny minecraft videos. poor guy lmao.
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yeah i know it's too much like bo burnham. It won't be in a year though. IN a year it will be like Tom Simons. Just let me figure out what that means, OK?
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I used to feel like I was just doing everything wrong. That I just wasn't smart or good like any of my friends. I realise now I was the only one doing the right thing. I just wanted to have fun. What I'd do to get that back, my god. What I'd do. To have things be simple again.
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I just don't want to slip back into who I was. A year ago I needed you. A year ago most of my self esteem and worth and love came from you. A year ago I wasn't happy unless you were. I don't think I can ever do that again. That really was wrong. How did I possibly end up there?
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kemistre · 3 days ago
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hiii !!! rlly enjoyed revealing (the first time seeing them shirtless one!) and was hoping u cld write it for other characters? would be great if u cld include oikawa & ushijima & anyone else u wld like!! tysm and have a nice day <3
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εïз┊𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐓. 𝟐 — feat. oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi, kuroo tetsurou, akaashi keiji, miya osamu
synopsis. seeing your other half shirtless is a normal part of a relationship, but how do they react when it’s your first time seeing him without his shirt on?
— content warnings. fem!reader, suggestive!, shirtless 2D men (oikawa might just be naked bc i love him <3), pet names (angel, honey, beautiful, pretty girl, darling), written at like 2am and haven't written in months <//3 — word count. 1.2k
εïз┊author's note. ofc nonnie!! i love writing for oiks and writing for ushigushi for the first time what super fun! i know it's been so long since this request <//3 i just felt like writing this today ig😭
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εïз┊o. tooru
you looked at your phone, messages pulled up on the screen as you re-read the texts from your boyfriend. 'meet me after practice angel, i'll treat you do a special dinner after~' a sigh fell from your lips as you entered the empty gym. he was always a romantic, and you couldn't say you hated it. "tooru?" your voice was hushed but loud enough for him to hear. Your eyes glanced around the building as you wandered around, the sound of your footsteps mixing in with the echo of your voice. "i'm in here angel, it's just me~" his voice came from the men's locker room, it was teasing, playful, it only made you wonder what he was planning. you pushed open the door slowly before walking in, the sound of running water catching your attention "angel~" as you turned your head, you were greeted by your boyfriend's naked body, water dripping down him as he leaned against wall underneath the running shower. your breath caught in your throat as your eyes raked over his sculpted form. a smirk weaved its way onto his lips at your reaction, closing the distance between the two of you as he put his hands on your hips. "flustered, are we?" he cooed, pulling the bag off of your shoulder and setting it down on the bench. he softly grabbed your wrists, placing them on his chest. "don't be afraid to explore now," he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours. "and not just my chest either~"
εïз┊u. wakatoshi
an uncomfortable groan fell from his lips as he rolled his shoulders. the two of you cuddled on his couch, watching your favorite show together. practice had been stressful on him recently, especially with such important competitions coming up. today was the only day you could convince him to not practice. "toshi?" you sat up, concern laced your soft voice. he shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "just sore, that's all honey." he placed a kiss on your forehead. you bit your lip as an idea popped in your head. "let me give you a massage." his eyes widened as heat made its way to his cheeks. "c'mon, it'll feel good" he sighed as you practically begged him. mumbles of agreement fell from his throat before tugging at the bottom of his shirt and pulling it over his head. his face felt hot, a stark contrast to the cold air on his now exposed torso. he laid down on the couch as you kneaded the muscles of his back, a satisfied sigh falling from his lips. "feel good?" he hummed, his body relaxing into your touch. although, his brows furrowed as he spoke. "it's not fair if i'm the only one feeling this good." his voice was deep as he shifted where he laid, his eyes dark, half-lidded. "take your shirt off honey..i'll make sure you're in the clouds by the time i'm done with you."
εïз┊k. tetsurou
he stretched his muscles before bending down into the hood of his car, music playing in the background through his speaker in the garage. sweat dripped down his bare chest as the hot summer heat invaded his garage. "tetsu?" you sweet voice made him raise his head, a smirk plaguing his lips. he watched as you realized his half-naked state, his shorts not leaving much to the imagination either. "why hello there beautiful," he grabbed you by your hip, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your lips. he watched as your eyes trailed down his body, all the way down to... "didn't think you'd be here so soon." his hand snaked up to cup your cheek, making you look at him as his eyes darkened. "oh," you hesitated. "i just wanted to see you." your eyes drifted down again, breath caught in your throat. he guided his hands down to your hips once more, slowly moving you to cage you in between him and his car. your eyes found his, half-lidded and filled with desire. his hands trailing up your shirt over your soft skin. "C'mon pretty girl, let's get this off you." he whispered, his lips brushing against yours.
εïз┊a. keiji
his jaw clenched as his arms raised in the air, puffs of white flour spreading on his black hoodie. he blew a stray hair from his vision before attempting to wipe some of the flour off, only to make it worse. he was trying to bake you something special before you came over that night, however, tonight was the night he figured out he was way better at cooking than baking. a sigh fell from his lips as he washed his hands, flicking the water into the sink before pulling his hoodie over his head. his sweatpants sagged on his hips as he walked to his bedroom, throwing the dirtied piece of clothing into his hamper. it wasn't long before he heard the squeak of his front door. "keiji~" your cheerful voice echoed through the small apartment. his eyes glanced at his watch, it was much later than he thought it was. you peaked your head into his room, a smile on your lips. "hey-" he turned towards you, his face instantly flushed. "woah," you stared at him in awe. "so this is what you've been keeping under those hoodies?" his eyes widened slightly as you walked over to him, slowly tracing your fingers along his abs. he looked everywhere but at you, his heart pounded against his chest. although, he couldn't say he didn't love your touch.
εïз┊m. osamu
you laid on your towel as the sand beneath you molded to the shape of you. today was the day where you and 'samu could finally relax with your old high school friends. So, what else to do than go to the beach and play volleyball together? your skin soaked up the sun in your swimsuit as the boys played their game, 'samu still changing in the beach's communal bathroom. it wasn't long before you heard his voice call out to his friends as he rushed over to them. he immediately caught your eye as your lips parted, propping yourself up on your elbows. your boyfriend, messy hair, shirtless, and his v-line very much visible made your face flush. you realized you'd never seen him so...exposed before and he hadn't seen you in the same way. you watched as he talked among his brother and friends, your heart racing in your chest at the sight of beads of sweat raced down his body. "what is it darlin? yer face is red." your breath hitched, eyes wide as you stared at him knelt down next to you. you didn't even realize he had come over to check on you before playing with the boys. his head tilted as you averted your eyes, realization of your expression. "hey," he spoke softly, using his finger to tilt your face towards him once more. "ya like me in a swimsuit that much?" a smirk grew on his lips, his eyes half-lidded and clouded over. "well, if we're bein' honest," he leaned in close his breath hot against your ear sending shivers down your spine. "darlin', i wanna rip this pretty suit o' yers right off ya," he placed a kiss on your ear, nipping at your earlobe. "t's not fair yer the only one that gets to see me without a shirt.."
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taglist :: @cemeiia + send me a message if you wanna be added!!
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curtins · 9 hours ago
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taking a shower with the jujutsu kaisen men
gojo — despite what his no.1 hater says (gege) i'm telling you and promising you that he showers daily. trust me when i say his white hair is fluffy fresh. spends way too long in the shower and you get a bit bored because he's hyping himself in the mirror beforehand (who's the strongest? you are!). uses a fancy, overpriced shampoo that smells like tropical fruits but leaves the cap off each time. has broken 2-3 waterproof speakers before. once bought a waterproof phone case to scroll his phone in the shower, but ended up getting distracted on tiktok until the water went cold. his bathroom looks like a high end salon, more products than an influencer. leaves little hearts in the condensation on the mirror
nanami — you have your regular showers with nanami, but he's really more of a bath guy i think. like i'm saying a glass of wine and a candle. if he doesn't like you or your name is gojo satoru, then interrupting him here will result in the worst lecture you've ever heard in your life, but if he likes enough, he'll let you sit on the edge of the bath with him and talk about your day. the most pristine bathroom of all time, it's literally a spa. you once asked if his shower head was imbued with cursed energy, because it's just that precise and perfect. very possessive about his towels.
geto — definitely the type to stand under the shower and waste the hot water. this is mainly because he can't help but monologue about his philosophy for too long, and by then, you've hopped out and left him there. the most perfect cherry-blossom floral scented shampoo is the only thing that can touch his thick, glossy hair. his hair is probably stuck to the shower wall a lot, but he tries to blame it on you. weirdly eclectic shower playlists that range from ominous, chanting ballads to 2000s boybands because he claims he's a man with layers.
toji — for a man with a kinda gross job (like assassination isn't all that great right...) he smells good. but that depends on who you ask, because sometimes the scent of cologne is so strong, you feel a little nauseous. prob uses a 3-1 body wash, shampoo and conditioner because its 'all the same anyway.' this makes you cry! spends about three minutes in the shower each time, and then leaves without even drying himself, soaking wet and rawdogging the world. once got a bathrobe as a gift and tried it on for fun, but now uses it all the time when he's lounging around to eat takeout.
sukuna — once asked you to join him for a bath, and you agreed. let's just say you took a big step back when you realises why the bathwater was a thick, gloopy red. you once gave him rubber duckies as a present and he pretended to hate them and gagged. you caught him lining them up in military formation along the edges of the bathtub for 'reasons that aren't your concern.' ended up almost coughing a lung out after accidentally ingesting one too many bubbles. hates most modern inventions but enjoys a good loofah.
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planetsstarsandmoons · 3 days ago
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Synastry observations (partly) based on personal experience, part 6:
(18+!!)
(Back after a year! Lol🌜🌛)
Moon conjunct mars: can be one sided asfuhck. I’ve seen it play out. Fully accepting that deeply personal intimacy of having someone’s sex aspecting your deepest emotions and/or the other way around is a sort of intimacy that some people just.. don’t…. want with that other person. This comes as a shocker because to most people, having a synastry aspect automatically means you have to like that with the other person, but Some people are just not into the other person like that! Or have trouble with intimacy. And even though the very primal emotional bridge between (possible) intensity of emotions and (possible) intensity of sexuality really ‘clicks’ and hits like no other, it doesn’t mean that the emotions or sexuality of both of the people will be intense within themselves… or that they will be seen in the same way. Many times I’ve seen this aspect play out in two people who worked really well together, were natural kissers and such, had almost iconically amazing fullfilling sex together, but one person wanted to marry and move into the other person and the other person simply did not want that, got the ick maybe, or simply closed themselves off from that meaning to the connection that one party attached to it but they themselves could not get in touch with, and either abused that power dynamic as much as they could or they ran away. Meanwhile thatother person, and I’ve seen both the moon and the mars person in that situation, is left completely addicted and insecure and an unstable mess because of this, because this aspects didn’t cause them so much to be in love, it caused them to have an addiction to this perfectly fullfilling passion and intimacy that they fundamentally lack in their life. They wanted to marry this person because of that. A friend (the mars person) of mine once puked when they saw their recent mars-conjunct-moon-synastey ex (it was a 1,5 month relationship) walk into a room. He later discovered that for some reason, that extremely intense feeling heartbreak didn’t really have anything to do with her, but more about the affection he lacked from an absent parent in his childhood, and the (obvious to everyone else) fact that he was bordering on a complete burn-out. He desperately needed that dopamine and those endorphins. Meanwhile the moon person was nowhere near in the headspace to have that kind of emotional intimacy so fast in her 1st relationship, so she started finding him less and less attractive, and then it was over. I once had an international student (moon) I think fall in love with me (and later stalk me) after 2 dates. He was a lonely international student in this Nordic country and his mother was sick in Egypt. We could not hold an interesting conversation on our own if we tried, but we were -very good kissers-and the almost-sex was extremely good. I didn’t want to cross that line, because for lack of better words I felt like it would go on to mean too much, be too emotional and too intimate and the thought crossing that border with him gave me the ick/ a fight or flight response, like I would just let this man be wayy too intimate with me if it happened, so I cut it off 🤷‍♀️ All the hormones of interpreting yourself to be totally ‘in love’ are there in the synastry, but it’s not *really* that, and most people in the sorry position even secretely know that, even though it’s confusing because they forever remain adamant that there here was something bomb in their connection.. because there was. But imagine: the moon feels emotionally hit in their core by mars’s… sexuality/attractiveness. Mars sees the deepest inner emotions of the moon and feels… turned on. You see where I’m going with this? The intensity and intimacy is great, but for a real love connection you need synastry on things that lead to mental, spiritual and emotional connectivity too. Can you even have a good conversation with this person for longer than 25 minutes? Do you even.. care about them? and vice versa? Would you love them if they were a worm? I have even more stories but they’re for another time 💆‍♀️
Moon trine mars: so. This one is kind of different. What do I mean? Well I believe that in synastry aspects, planetary influence comes to exist in the context of the aspect. Mars conjunct a planet will get all of mars. Mars square a planet will get the worst/most challenging side of mars (brought out by both). Mars opposite will get the antihero kind of mars -the conjunct mars on a possible (and needed) character delevopment journey if you will- and mars trine and sextile will get the harmonious benific, kind of ‘angelic’ sides of mars. He becomes the Aiden from Sex And The City, the soft woodchipper. This mars is in relation to the moon person a 10th house oriented, responsibility taking man who makes you laugh in the form of making you smile. The moon person becomes enamored with the mars person’s standing for something, his way of solving problems, overcoming obstacles, his professionality and his energetic form of taking action. The mars here becomes the kind of mars that is serious about protecting and heartily keeping what he feels is hitting his mars, instead of fighting with it or having sex with it necessarily. The moon’s emotional being becomes like his healthy objective, that he will protect and will fight/work himself up for in a way that he can control. A trine is harmonious which is kind of how you’ll see the mars person get into that civilised and gentlemanly role (to the emotions of the!!👌) moon partner. Where mars squaring the moon is like a mean alcoholic to the moon, the mars trining the moon will be a driven, shaved man in a suit or a spencer, kissing his wife goodbye before going to work. The moon in this aspect is different too: like water, the moons energy decides to flow depending on the factors and tides of the environment: If the moon has no reason to feel stabbed all the time, the moon won’t act overly sensitive or insecure or reactive to every little thing. Being shown the harmonious and safe/secure part of such a powerful planet like mars, the moon person will let their guard down big time. Typically, in this aspect, the moon person opens up, becomes very emotionally comfortable and shows their real and raw private selves to the mars person in a way that even surprises the mars person. There will be lots of oohs and aahs from the mars person who is *absolutely thrilled* to discover that the moon person is actually way softer than they come across in their personality, or more insecure than they wear on their sleeve, or are actually way weirder than anyone would expect. This is like an emotional theme in the relationship for mars. Granted to mars, it actually is a kind of odd way of special, because Real selves are often only shown to others in despair, crisis, moments of survival, very few deep talks, or during sex, but here the moon person is comfortable being their quirky and complete and utter selves with the mars person just during ‘daylight’ so to speak, as if they were alone in their room doing a talk show monologue in the mirror. It’s because mars made themselves this safe haven but is also a good reason to get excited and happy. So this aspect isn’t so much about physical/primary (so sexual attraction) passionate intimacy as you see, it becomes a personality thing of more mental and earthy(?) substance imo. In couples this aspect creates a forever-kind of ‘fondness’ of each other. In this relationship it’s the sex that becomes the highest feat of romantic bonding, not commitment to each other or affirming affection like with the conjunct or the square, which needs those components to make or strengthen the connection as a romantic one.
Mars conjunct mercury: best friends aspect! Being able to talk for hours, do any activity together, spend an entire day doing stuff together or going to a daylong event with just the two of you without it ever being awkward. Being able to do groceries together for a pregame with each other before going to do an activity that you’ll also be doing together. Energy, jokes, and things to talk about never run out. Mars’s energy lets mercury’s thoughts and mind race through multiple subjects and important comments at once, and mercury’s thoughts excite slash fire up mars’s energy. Their response becomes fuel for mercury again and so fort. I know two best friends who have this in double whammy almost exact and they are *always* together. Like in the same day, they would hang out, go to do something else/hang out with someone else, then go hang out with each other again, then in the evening one would visit the other at work. I have this aspect with one good friend that I can talk for hours with. Catching up is never awkward and we constantly learn from each other, plus we’re interested in the same things, because his mind/daily thoughts/the things he pays attention to and tells me (his mercury), fires me up and consistently happens to catch my fixation (mars). And what I *do* in my life, the things that were motivation by nature of taking action, triggers his insight! Isn’t that the perfect combination? This aspect makes you very good and close friends, but this alone doesn’t grant an emotional bond. Those two best friends I talked about lacked in moon connections, so they kept surprisingly much of their feelings and what went on in their life/emotional world private from one another, including crushes they had on mutual friends 💀 like how was that possible?
Moon square moon: a link is a link, an attachment is an attachment, so moon square moon is that too. You will ‘see’ each other for who that person emotionally is from the inside. You will acknowledge it, you can even understand it, but trying to emotionally ‘relate’ or connect to the other’s emotional world causes a short-circuit. This sounds like a finished deal, and marriage it often is. This aspect imo means kind of sacrifing a part of crucial understanding of the other partner. But there is another important part: some people do not have moon to moon aspects in their partnerships. Some people can connect with a moon through their sun mercury venus and mars for example, but not be able to deeply feel the other person next to them with their own moon, like what’s possible in a moon to moon aspect. With moon square moon, the two people deeply *see* each other. It’s hard not to because the friction of the square makes them very neon noticable to each other. One moon person might not be able to touch or soothe the other moon person from and with their own emotional angle, because through the square it will inherently cause a (n immediate often) frictive disconnect, but their presence will be enough. They will learn from each other and with enough respect for the other, (seriously) they will be able to teach themselves how to manually get their moons to relate, by in their empathy intuitively touching and patting to learn what the other person feels, and sleutelingen on their own emotional patterns. With the man I had this with. I completely saw and understood how he was. We, to each other’s emotional automatic ways of thinking, understood each other, but could never relate, so in our most intimate conversations we saw each other raw, but were also like.. damn,, you live like this? you do you! 😂
Male Venus conjunct woman’s moon, but the man has venus square moon natal: so this is really too specific, I know, it’s from my personal life, but the observation is such an almost lawful rule that it needs to be said. So the man has a problem with women in a romantic or otherwise emotionally intimate sense. He either sees them as charmless but safe, emotional, and boring ‘kin’, who fullfills his emotional needs but in a way that cannot fullfill his romantic wants, because they fundamentally clash, or he sees them as these charming, pretty, sexy sensual creative people or muses that fullfill his wants and desires, but cannot fullfill his emotional needs because they fundamentally do not mesh/are able to ‘melt’ with each other. So men with this aspect are doomed to have a lonely romantic life where they deeply hurt a lot of women but in the long run also themselves. This is ofc unless the man is capable of self reflection and is willing to do the work and *respect* the challenge that squares require, but since misogyny is a thing that challenge and perceived radically different worldview of the woman practically never gets respected, found interesting/compelling enough for the man to study, or romanticised like the way in which women will handle a natal moon square mars for example. BUT! If a woman’s moon conjuncts that squared venus, they kind of crack the code in a weird sense!? And become sort of “the only woman that can tame this man blabla that he actually respects”. Because the woman becomes like a domineering mother to him. In his moon square/battle/tension her moon, so where his emotional ‘needs’ are challenged by another person’s needs, his moon yields to the woman’s moon because his venus is enamored by the woman’s moon emotional world. You will get two people who are weirdly intimate friends, because both square moons emotionally ‘acknowlegde’ each other’s emotional life and wavelength, in a kind of bizarre to witness way that will have the woman wear the pants and the often so misogynistic and macho guy follow her and her needs around like a (doggo)💀, acting like each other’s bf/gf, but sitting too close to each other?? Kissing? The thought of having s**?? Will make them revolt. From an astrological standpoint, this may be the most significant planetary relationship with a woman that this man will ever have in his life.
A woman’s venus conjunct that sort of man’s moon I have never seen, only conjunct other planets, but I imagine it would be the same but the other way around at the same time. I think she would be only possible romantically intimate partner for the man, the only girlfriend to exist, only girl that he can wholeheartedly register as ‘girlfriend’, who will hold that *romantic* muse place forever, the only one to forever fullfill his emotional needs like a romantic partner does and can, but he doesn’t like her as a person, he couldn’t be friends with her, can’t talk with her, was never even his type, wants to cheat on her, can’t admire her really. This female venus is the sensual and sexual but disrespected girlfriend to the female moon’s sexless but elevated wife. If that man ruled the world and had all the money and the woman who marries him would win the universe, these were both equally bad but extremley solid places you would want to be in, because you’d be one of the only two women that he will ever seriously consider in his life.
Venus square jupiter: I have this with almost every man I get involved with, because their venus is in that way also conjuncting my scorpio sun and mercury. I’ve found with these people that they are confused if they should be charmed by the grand/optimistic/philosophical side of me, or cringe. Either way they are overwhelmed. Venus in crush-mode will be especially interested in jupiters views and opinions and outlook on situations and jupiter is enthusiastic about the romantic muse that they see in venus and become a kind of a philosophical rant-y person near them, in a good way, because they see venus as an equally inspiring and interesting and beautiful (big ideas and emotions) creative peer of their outlook on life. Venus listens and is in awe. Jupiter is like a positive-energy bomber to venus and venus can be confused, overwhelmed, but gets all the butterflies and wants to be swept in. This is an aspect where the other knows or can relate to what the other is feeling the least, because jupiter is making venus live in their own world and venus is in their head thinking out loud. Astrologers say this easily dies out because of it, like an inflated balloon, but I don’t agree. Don’t let your relationship completely ride on this aspect alone and you’ll be fine and it won’t end with a big bang, but stay flickering like smoldering fire like any other venus or jupiter aspect.
Saturn conjunct moon: saturn wants to snatch moon off the market and moon is like “yeesssss”
Mars overlaying 8th house: it’s true what they say… i won’t elaborate 😶‍🌫️ just kidding I will of course. Having been the 8th house person, it’s actually very straightforward: whenever we talked about serious matters like trauma, (lost) finances, our heritage, and our secrets, fears, that’s when I became most attracted to his masculine/sexual side. Those were the moments I would find myself like ‘daym’, just like a 7th house having mars overlay there would have that during moments of romance and partnership.
Moon opposite mars: I talk about this aspect a lot because it just fascinates me. Moon opposite mars in the context of all the other mars aspects is almost funny because in the beginning, when the insane kind of unsettling attraction is noticed between two people, mars doesn’t really want to be in this situation and moon doesn’t like the fact that it exists at all. I feel like it’s a karmic aspect for mars and somewhat for the moon. Moon will feel every single jab from this aspect but because that jab fundamentally hits them in their *feelings* they will just think: “what was that, what even is that? Who is this mars person making me feel single intense emotion at once?” Even typing this synastry aspect out is making me laugh. It’s moon doing what? Opposing. Oh god. And the lucky planet it’s being opposed is… mars 😂🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️! Imagine the moon one day going like: “f*ck you! And you, and you, and you,” then pointing to mars “and ESPECIALLY you!” Mars turning around and saying: “what are you saying f*ck me for?” looks at moon, boom, falls in love. Kind of disrespectful, but it isn’t meant that way? Which can in short make the connection even more uncomfortable for the moon, or completely the opposite. The intrigue in this aspect lies in how fundamentally foreign (because they’re opposites!!) these people are to each other. This aspect is an up and down and up and down one, because to have the closeness that they both desire and even need, they have to do the work and understanding to become closer and win each other’s trust and affirmation. Mars is challenged to channel powerful frictive energy from the fixation that the opposition creates into creating an environment that caters to the moon’s emotional needs. It challenges itself to encompass all of mars’s qualities, both the ying (harmonious) and the yang (not necessarily that) in a hyperaware manner, and that’s one of the reasons he comes to have like ‘multiple personalities’ in this aspect. It doesn’t help that mars always manages to come across the wrong way to the moon person, can hurt the moon unintentionally, but can also in a burst of martian energy try to fight with the moon when aggravated (caused by their opposing natures), can come across too sexual and disrespectful by the moon person when they intensely show their attraction and preferred treatment to the moon. When Mars tries to be nice, it doesn’t come natural for them to do that imagining what the completely opposite person would want. When mars succeeds, a very real and mental bond is created that is extremely raw. In the healthy romantic version of this, the moon isn’t really easy sex for mars like I’ve seen male astrologers describe it. I’ve seen men describe it as ‘deer’, which can create reaally different outlooks depending on your respect and goodwill to the more vurnurable person. Goodwill especially can make or break this aspect. I feel like this can either be one of the most pain-in-your-stomach disrespectful cortisol aspects, or the sweetest and most genuine and wholsesome emotionally intimate aspects.
A little story I wanted to share: an astrologer on 27th november 2023 gifted me a moon badge on tumblr and I only opened it on 21th november 2024, because I thought it the little pop-up present on my home page was a tumblr advert 🥲 I almost cried because it was such a lovely present around my birthday and as it goes I didn’t say thank you or acknowledged it for a year even though it was an awfully sweet gesture and I really appreciate her 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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marigoos · 22 hours ago
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Updated scam alert
So, as some of you guys know, I've received an ask from a known scammer a few weeks ago. Since I found their main post reblogged by 300 or so people, thinking they were helping a palestinian diabetic lady, I made a pinned post (this one) and warned everyone.
At some point this week, that account has been banned (or deleted), to my great dismay (the best vaccine against this kind of thing is letting victims know, since these scammers will just make new accounts); however, I found out that one of the names used in one of the many of his PayPal accounts has also been used in (as of today, 11/23) gladysconnoisseurpost thanks to this other post!
I already added that new piece of info in my old pinned (the one linked above in pink), and just today I received this ask on anon - worded very similarly to this other one that I got (off anon!) immediately after I called him out the first time.
So, in short: it's clear it's the same person again, there are sources to prove my point in the first link, there's one more here (el-shab-hussein saying it's a scam), thus I'm resuming my little hobby here.
IF YOU'VE BEEN MENTIONED IN THE REPLIES HERE:
-read the post in the first link. I'm basically doing the same thing, just with another post since it's about a different account and it could cause confusion
-I'd like you all to either delete your reblog of this scammer's post or edit it to include a warning to your followers
-if you're having a hard time tracking your reblog down (some date back to August), let me know and I'll help
-some of you reblogged it more than once, try to get them all (I tried to take note of those who did, if you have any doubts let me know)
-I did recognize some of your names from the last time - I'm sure you're all more knowledgeable now, it's just that it's the same scammer that contacted you multiple times, and I found an older instance. It's unlikely you falled for it once more after I warned you, so no worries. Still! Keeping up your reblog with no warning helps making it look more legitimate, so if you would kindly do me a favour and delete/edit this one too 🙏
-usual disclaimer that I transcribed all urls manually and I may have gotten something wrong. Hmu if you think I made a mistake, so I can contact the right person (or prove that it was in fact you)
-and again, no worries. You're all doing a good thing, you're not at fault for this piece of shit taking advantage of your good heart. Just be more wary next time :*
-I'm still gonna check for name changes, both on Tumblr and Paypal. Most recent on top
Oh, and let's not forget my List of Actually Verified Palestinian Fundraisers Who Contacted Me. Gotta uplift their voices too
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ultramaga · 1 day ago
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I had a case where I paid for same day delivery of a months food as I am disabled and they said they were having a strike soon. Half of the items were missing but I can't open the bags to find out what the stock is until they have photographed it and what with moving everything inside away from the hot sun, I am never going to be able to inventory it while they are here. So the dude had barely left. No problem, tried the contact number. It put me onto their ai, who told me I wouldn't get a refund. I kept trying to get a human instead, but the company had obviously decided human staff are way too expensive, so they put me on to the ai who made jokes and tried to sell me stuff, all the while pushing me to begin a reverse skynet, a Butlerian Jihad, a final obliteration of everything MADE IN THE LIKENESS OF A HUMAN MIND, BUT REALLY BADLY. Anyway, after an hour, I got through. The human thought it was likely that the driver had just left the bags in the car, but the HOUR LONG DELAY meant everything would have to be thrown away, assuming it wasn't already lining his fridge. They wanted to book a delivery for another day. I said no, I had paid for same day delivery and I really needed that today, it's not an option, and I pointed out if they had just let me call the driver pronto I would probably have been fine. They used to be a great service, seriously, you can't imagine how good it used to be, but then the quality was dropped and dropped and it is now done by uber or something. And they keep stuffing it up. I have exact directions as to how to find my place. They either don't get them or don't read or - I suspect - can't read english. So my neighbours, whose dogs love deliveries, yum yum, sometimes get them, or they thoughtfully put them on the road in the rain in paper bags in such a place that the wash goes through them, and the new greener kinder legislation means that the goods are now packed in paper, meaning they have to be chucked. There are times when I really get to empathise with the Unabomber. Man, maybe I shoulda been a hobbit.
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You are not experiencing higher than expected call volumes. You refuse to hire sufficient staff to take care of exactly the amount of calls you should be getting as the facility you are.
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alchemistc · 2 days ago
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Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.
Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.
Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.
"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"
His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.
Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.
"Tommy?"
He groans an affirmative.
"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."
A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."
"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."
Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"
He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"
"...why are you mad at me?"
"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."
"He's - he'll be fine."
"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."
"Bi-weekly like -."
"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"
"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."
Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."
He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"
Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"
He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."
Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."
And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"
Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."
"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."
Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"
"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"
"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"
Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.
"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"
"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."
"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."
His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.
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half-oz-eddie · 2 days ago
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Sorry I missed you (on purpose)
Buck knew Tommy's schedules and habits, and he knew exactly when Tommy wasn't home.
Tommy's schedule fluctuated from week to week, so how did Buck know this? Well, Buck started anti-stalking Tommy, which is...still stalking, but he was only doing it to avoid running into Tommy. It doesn't make sense. To you, to anybody, but it makes sense to Buck, and Buck's gonna Buck, right?
Tommy liked to keep the porch light on because he fed a neighborhood cat whenever he was home, and he wanted the cat to know it was safe to come on his porch and have a bite to eat. Tommy was just good like this.
It's so hard not to love him.
Monday. Porch light on. Tuesday. Porch light off. Wednesday. Porch light on, and the curtain was open. Buck's heart raced when he saw Tommy walk past the window. What was he doing? Was he alone? Buck didn't intend to stick around too long and find out, so he drove off.
Thursday. Porch light off. Perfect. Buck left a post-it note on Tommy's front door.
"Wanted to drop some things of yours, but you weren't home and I didn't want to leave them on the porch. Feel free to call or drop by anytime! -Buck"
There. Simple enough. Now Buck just had to get the hell out of there before Tommy returned.
Two days passed and Tommy hadn't called, texted or stopped by. Why?
Did the post it note blow away? Did the cat eat it? Maybe he should've reinforced the post-it with some tape or something.
Or maybe...Tommy didn't want to talk to him at all. Maybe he just hated him.
Buck carried that thought to bed.
The next day after Buck's shift, he returned home to find a post-it on his door.
"Sorry I missed you. I have some of your things as well. You can drop mine off and pick up yours this week. Or I can stop by. Your choice. -Tommy"
Buck read the note over and over again. He could hear Tommy's voice in his head with every syllable his eyes scanned on the note. It even had the lingering smell of Tommy's cologne.
Buck stuck it to his fridge.
He missed talking to him.
The next day after his shift, Buck drove past Tommy's house. Porch light on.
Buck kept driving.
The day after, Buck returned to Tommy's again. Porch light off. This was his moment.
"Sorry I missed you again. I just can't seem to remember your schedule. Stop by whenever you can."
He stuck the post-it to the door, but he was unsatisfied, so he pulled out a second post-it.
PS: hope you're taking care of that knee that was bothering you a few weeks ago. You never took that compression sleeve. Should I bring it? -Buck"
It was a little ridiculous, sure, but Buck was talking to Tommy again. Sort of, and it was great.
Buck stopped baking as often, and everyone at the firehouse thought he was making some sort of progress. He told them he was. He just didn't explain the sort of progress he was making.
When he returned home from his shift 3 days later, there were 3 post-its on his door and his eyes lit up with excitement.
"We've gotta stop (not) meeting like this. I can't seem to remember your schedule either. I'm sure we'll sort this out soon." Buck smiled as he grabbed the first post it, before reading the second.
"My knee's better, but I'd still like that compression sleeve. Do you think you could drop it off with my stuff? Or I'll pick it up." Buck smiled wider. He was glad to know Tommy's knee wasn't bothering him as much anymore, but he was happy to know he still wanted his help.
"Let me know what works for you. PS: Is that wrist still bothering you? I hope it's all healed up now. -Tommy"
Buck stuck the post-its to his fridge and smiled to himself. He was almost convinced they'd talked via post-its enough to talk via text, but he didn't feel like it was the right time yet.
He continued anti-stalking Tommy for days, waiting for the day his porch light wasn't on. It had been 4 days since the porch light was off.
Finally. He hoped Tommy wasn't too worried. Then again, he probably wasn't worried at all, Buck assumed.
"Sorry again. I just have a lot of things keeping me busy so I stop by whenever I get the chance. I'm going to try again until we get this right." Buck stuck the first note to the door.
"PS: my wrist is fine now, thanks for asking. I've been putting it to use a lot lately because I'm baking so much."
Buck stuck the second note to the door, but wanted to leave three post-its like Tommy did, just to seem equally as invested in this post-it tag.
"PPS: I almost tripped over the bowl by your front door. Are you still feeding that cat? -Buck"
Buck stuck the final note to the door feeling satisfied. He even laughed to himself when he realized he stuck them to the door in the shape of a heart with the first two on top, and the third beneath.
Tommy probably wouldn't even notice.
When a week passed and Buck hadn't seen a single post-it on his door, he was beginning to worry that Tommy grew tired of their game of tag.
The next day, there was one, single post-it on his door.
"I think maybe I should text you."
Buck's heart was beating out of his chest. Was Tommy going to text him finally?
When? What time? What day? Today? Please be today, Buck hoped.
Buck was back to checking his phone for the next few hours. He started baking again to pass the time so he'd stop obsessing over his phone.
When he heard his phone ding, he nearly jumped across the counter for it.
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Buck and Tommy continued to occasionally text for a week. Occasionally became frequently, and frequently became constantly, until they were talking again about any and everything that crossed their minds.
When Tommy addressed them finally meeting in person to exchange their belongings, Buck dreaded the thought. He was convinced that exchanging their belongings would end their text exchanges, so he blew Tommy off several times with various excuses about why he was too busy to meet.
Tommy was willing to wait and continue to text Buck, until one day, the texting turned into a phone call.
"Are you avoiding me on purpose?" Tommy asked.
"I-uh-no-I-I'm not. I'm not avoiding you. Not...intentionally." Buck stammered.
Tommy laughed on the other end of the phone. "Evan." There was that teasing voice Buck so dearly missed.
"Okay, okay. Maybe I am. I wasn't ready to do this face-to-face, in case this was going to be the last time we ever saw each other. So first, I dragged it out with the post-its..."
"I knew I saw your car that night! I thought maybe I was imagining it. Maybe...I dunno, wishful thinking."
Buck listened to the momentary silence and the soft sigh on the other end of the phone.
"The notes were cute, though. I...liked them. I suppose I was avoiding you too. Just to keep this going for a little bit longer."
"Really?" Buck smiled. "Y-you were? I didn't think you even wanted to talk to me anymore—"
"Are you kidding? Of course I do. I just...I know we broke up so suddenly. I...thought maybe we wouldn't work out. I guess it all felt too real and I...ran. I've done nothing but act cowardly since that night."
"I don't think you're a coward, Tommy. I didn't mean to scare you off. If you don't think I'm ready, I can promise you that you're wrong. Since the moment you left, I haven't stopped thinking about you. The baking was just to keep me from reaching out to you so I could give you space."
"I hate space. I hate avoiding you. I miss you, Evan. So much."
"I miss you too."
There was another silence while they each gathered their thoughts.
"Do you uh...do you still want your stuff back?" Buck worriedly asked.
"The only thing I left at your apartment that I want back is you."
Buck smiled so wide, his cheeks were aching. "You mean it?"
"Of course. When are you free?"
"For you? Whenever your porch light is on." Buck answered, getting a lighthearted laugh out of Tommy.
"Well...they're on right now."
"Yeah? I'll be right there."
Leave me kudos <3
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felassan · 1 day ago
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David Gaider on Alistair, under a cut for length:
"Ah, Alistair. Depending on who you ask, he's the adorable woobie with the biggest heart or the irritating, over-used man-child. Yes, he is indeed all of those things. Good characters have flaws to go with their virtues. Ugly spots. That is literally their humanity. He was a bit of a bear to write, at the outset. James (Ohlen, the first creative director on DAO) had this idea he needed to be a grizzled Warden veteran - older, distrusting. Everyone hated him instantly. I call this the Carth Onasi Problem, and suggested to James that maybe I try something else. My observation says that the characters who are generally liked the most are the supportive ones. Enthusiastic. Funny? Sometimes, sure, but that's *not* required. I need to digress. See, at the time James had this (regrettable) period where he believed everything could be derived from a formula. He even sold this idea to the founders, Ray and Greg. Google 'BioWare formula'. Anyway, how this relates is because James thought the DAO cast needed a Minsc: a comedy character who would become super popular and, ideally, the icon of DA. "Isn't that Alistair?" you ask. "Arguable," I say, "but no." James had me to up a huge list of 'comedic archetypes' and I wrote some possible dialogue for each one. Then he had the team vote. The winning archetype? The Buffoon - like Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin. James was pleased. I was not. "The problem," I said, "is I don't find the Buffoon funny." 😅"
""But you're a professional." "Sure, I *can* write him... but comedy isn't science. I need to find him funny. If I write him, the only comedy I'll mine is where he makes fun of himself." James took that on board and then passed the character onto someone else. The result? Oghren. I rest my case. So back to the supportive character: that was my thought for a new Alistair. It was a special case, after all - the DAO PC was thrust into a terrible situation. They needed someone who had their back. A bud. A *likeable* bud. I was watching Buffy at the time, and my thoughts drifted towards Xander. Now, I know Joss Whedon is persona non grata these days, but this was 2006, OK? I was watching Buffy and thought, "man, Xander is such a wasted character" and considered how to fix him. Then I realized this might work for Alistair. Plus, I wanted to see if I could replicate the Whedon vocal patter. That was the new Alistair: a more useful and likeable yet equally dorky version of Xander. We had very strict rules in DA about language: no modern speech styles, colloquialisms, any words that came into use in our world after 1900 got severe side eye... but Alistair? Alistair got a blanket pass. Was it great that the lead writer's leading man got to break the rules? I guess not, but it's my opinion that you can break those kinds of rules - selectively, in small doses. Too much and you break the illusion. And it worked. Alistair was an instant hit. Not just with the team, but with the fans."
"Confession time? Yes, I knew Goldanna wasn't meant to be Alistair's mother. But neither was Fiona, originally. I think fans caught wind of some revisionism at work, and OK it's true. I had a more Arthurian idea for his birth but I stopped liking it... yet not soon enough to go back and make edits. Should I have just left it be, left Goldanna as his mother? Maybe. It was one of those writer things I just couldn't let go of and I probably could have used someone to sit me down and go "Gaider, please. Just stop." I still like Fiona, and where I took it. But I probably shouldn't have gone there. Casting Alistair was SUCH a chore. He required a weird mix of devilish charm, but with enough sincerity and adorkableness it didn't come off as smarmy. Every audition went full smarm... until Steve Valentine up and appeared out of nowhere. In the midst of a batch of audition files, there he was. We brought Steve in "just to try out", and he pulled it off. Even the "frog time" line, which (seriously) nobody else could. And when he got to the romantic lines, Steve's voice turned into pure butter without, again, sliding into "oh, he's slightly creepy". Both Caroline and I were sold. And he was so gloriously easy to write. It's a well I'd probably return to... a bit too often, maybe? Maric, then Anders in Awakening, and then Alistair kept popping up in future games and the comics because, yes, he was pretty much the breakout comedy character of DA. Which still makes me happy. 😁 CORRECTION: Goldanna was someone Alistair thought was his *sister*, and her mother his mother. Look, it was almost twenty years ago, OK? 😅 --- I actually had a whole scene written in DAI where Fiona tells him, but the requirements were so specific for them both to be in Skyhold and it seemed like it'd be relevant only to a small small sub-section of fans (and confusing to everyone else) so it was dropped. Rightfully so, I guess."
[source thread]
User: "The Buffy vibes were strong in DAO and I was very happy with that at the time. What I loved about DAO was the mix of dark themes entwined with bits of levity. That's how I like my angst. Dark, broody with a side of ha-has and y'all delivered in DAO for sure." David Gaider: "That's a me thing. I like going dark - really dark - and then pairing it with light, comedic moments. It provides peaks and valleys in the tone, and prevents either from becoming overwhelming. Hey if it worked for Shakespeare (alas, poor Yorrick), it can work for DA, right? 😉" [source]
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try-set-me-on-fire · 3 days ago
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Eddie drunkenly calls Buck from wine night, confesses some things. On ao3 here.
Eddie calls him at 11:34 pm, and it’s a Thursday, so that means a few things. It’s wine night, the biggest thing. It’s wine night, at Hen and Karen’s, and he knows those start around dinner time so Eddie’s got several hours of alcohol in him. It’s 11:34 pm and Buck got off work at 10:45, another thing, so it’s a toss up whether Eddie timed the call to when he was walking through the door (a feat possible after years of going back and forth between the station, the loft, and the Diaz house at all times of day and night) or if it’s just a drunken coincidence.
“Hello,” Buck answers the phone, dragging out the first half of the word, tossing his keys into the bowl on the counter.
“Buck,” Eddie says, voice bright and not very slurred, but he’s only said one word so far, and Buck sometimes secretly thinks he could probably say his name pretty steadily no matter the situation. Buck is pretty sure he could be all drunk or half dead and still be able to say Eddie just fine, anyway. “Hello. Are you home from, did you get home from work?”
Ah, so, somewhat drunk then. “Did indeed. You still at the Wilsons?”
“Did you, uh- was there fire?” Eddie sounds like he’s trying very hard to sound normal. Buck bites his lip against a snort.
“No fires. Just a half shift, remember. Pretty boring one, honestly.” I missed you probably isn’t fair to say, Buck covered the shift of his own volition, he could have been at wine night if he really wanted. But Donovan’s sister had a baby, what was he gonna do, not let the guy meet his niece? “Hope you had a better time.”
“Great time,” Eddie says, enthusiastic. “They had, uh, mini quiches.”
Buck grins at the empty room. “You’re a man who loves a mini quiche.”
A few seconds of whooshy silence where Buck assumes Eddie is nodding enthusiastically. “The- uh- they had the bacon kind. The kind, and with the- you know, there’s spinach? Can we go to Costco?”
“Sure,” Buck agrees, opening his admittedly pretty sparsely populated fridge. “Could use a grocery run.”
“And get the, get more quiches?”
Buck grabs a protein bar, smiling as fondly as he wants to with no one around to see him. “Yeah, Eds, we’ll get more quiches.”
“And you’ll take the spinach ones? And I get the good ones?”
Buck laughs. “The spinach ones are good. You can barely even taste the spinach, they’re just, like, warm and eggy.”
“Mmm,” Eddie says, doubtfully. “It’s not nice to lie, Buckley.”
“I’m not fucking lying,” Buck cackles. “Your spinach hatred is so unfair, what’d it ever do to you?”
“Taste bad,” Eddie says, adding a blegh sound for emphasis. “It’s like- like- it’s gross, I don’t believe you actually like it, actually. You just want to eat grown up food.”
Buck snorts. “Man, I hate to break it to you, we both turn 34 this year.”
“And I don’t feel like I have to prove that to anybody by eating nasty food,” Eddie says, nose definitely in the air. Buck shakes his head and takes a bite of the protein bar.
“Whatever, man. You just have to live with the fact that Chris is the one sneaking vegetables into your food.”
“You’re so mean. I’m not letting you have any of my actually good quiches.” Empty threat, they always end up sharing, both of them know it. “That’s not even what I called about. That’s not even-“ Eddie huffs so hard it sounds all crackly in Buck’s ear. “I called to tell you that I love you.”
Buck grins. Oh boy, affectionate drunk Eddie is here. He’d wondered just how much wine they’d got through and it seems like Eddie must be nearly a bottle in. “Aw, love you too, bud.”
“No,” Eddie says, and Buck can see the frown from here. “Buck. Listen. I’m in love with you.”
Oh. God. Oh god. “Uh-“ Buck says, stomach swooping all over the fucking place, “Uh- I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having while you’re-“
“Oh, fuck off, shut up. Shut up. It’s fine.”
“Eddie-”
“Buck,” Eddie says, in the annoyed voice he uses when Buck is trying to get him to eat yogurt with his fruit in the morning, or even a dastardly spinach quiche. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I knew you’d- why- stop it. Listen. I feel like this all the time. It’s stupid that I’ve never, like, I never just say this all the time. You’re, like-”
Eddie cuts himself off and Buck waits — sort of fearfully — for him to continue, but the silence keeps stretching on. Buck knows the other side effect of this level on the Eddie Diaz Drunkenness Scale is heightened distractibility, so he probably noticed a nice color or perhaps a bug. They spent a good twenty minutes hanging out with a grasshopper at Hen and Karen’s wedding towards the end of the night, because it was a lovely shade of green and a funny little guy. Oh god, Buck thinks again. I love this man. I love this man a ridiculous amount and we should absolutely wait to talk about it.
But: “You’re tall and you’re in my house,” Eddie says before Buck can do anything to stop him.
“I’m-” Buck glances around the loft. “Eds, I’m at my place.”
“What?” He sounds so indignant that Buck has to cover his mouth to hold a laugh in. “Why?”
“‘Cause I live here?”
“That’s stupid. You should live with me in my house.”
“Should I?” Buck asks, laugh escaping a little bit. “Also, wait, what does me being tall have to do with it?”
Eddie sighs, long and exasperated. “If you live with me you never have to go home and leave me because you’re already at my house. Your house. If you live with me you never have to go anywhere.”
“Never have to go anywhere?” Buck thinks he’s in shock, maybe, about all of this, but teasing Eddie is something that’s always easy to fall into. “I don’t have a job in this scenario?”
“Well you’d go to work. And other places. But you just come back to me all the time.”
“I’d like to come back to you all the time,” Buck says, choking a little on how simply it explains every ache in him. “Eddie-“
“And you’re tall because… it matters because you’re tall because…” Eddie’s voice is soft, his breathing is soft. Buck wonders where he is in Hen and Karen’s house. In a hallway, tucked away from everyone, the nice light from the stained glass lamp they have there warm on his face? On the back porch, out in the cool night air? Buck wants to tell him to come home, wants to make sure he’s warm. “I never had to look up at anybody before.”
“I’ve got like two inches on you,” Buck replies, but his voice is pretty quiet.
“It’s a big two inches,” Eddie says, just as soft. Then, also quiet but of an entirely different flavor, “That's- Sorry- that's what she said.”
“That's-” Buck snorts. “What-” and then giddy laughter bursts up out of him, baking soda and vinegar, foamy and ticklish. He cackles till he’s breathless, listening to Eddie’s responding chuckles over the line, and sinks down to the floor, back against the kitchen island. “You’re so fucking stupid.”
“I scored better on my certification exams than you.”
“That’s not even true!” Buck protests over Eddie’s continuing laughter. “Only in two categories!”
“Overall percentage was higher!” Eddie reminds him, as he does every time they have this argument.
“Well, I remember building construction and related hazards better than you and that’s written down on official paper somewhere.”
“Not fair,” Eddie says, as he always says. “You- you did- you built those. Unfair advantage.”
“I think you’re overselling the kind of experience I got in a few months working construction like a decade ago.”
“It wasn’t a decade when you took the tests,” Eddie points out. “Whatever. Nevermind. And I don’t want to sound like- you’re good at remembering things. You’re not stupid. I don’t want to sound like you are.”
Buck taps his boot against the sink counter in front of him. “I know. You’re not either.”
“I know,” Eddie says, soft again. “But your hands are big, and… you’ve got stubble sometimes, and…” he trails off into just breathing on the other end of the line for several long moments. “Buck,” Eddie whispers in sleepover voice. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”
“Yeah,” Buck says, knowing Eddie knows this, but playing along anyway. “I have.”
“What's it like?”
Buck hums, closes his eyes. He thinks about the few guys he’d made out with but never followed home when he got to Los Angeles. Thinks about the room he’d crashed in with Connor in Peru, with it’s one mattress and both their clothes living in suitcases because they were too broke to buy any other furniture. He’s still got a t-shirt for a school he never went to, a few sizes too small. The way they hadn’t shared a room once they were in LA, the girls Connor started seeing. He thinks about John from the ranch who left town the next day. He thinks about high school, Len McGuinty under the bleachers in the summer before senior year, both of them giggling and half terrified and the way they’d pretended to barely know each other when school started back up. Hard jawlines and stubble and muscles and height. Having something, for however long you get to have it. Wanting something, very badly. He opens his eyes and it’s almost a surprise that he’s still in the loft. That he’s not at Eddie’s house. All the time in the world there wouldn’t be enough. “It’s good, Eddie. It feels good.”
“Buck,” Eddie breathes, shivery.
“I want to live in your home all the time, and never have to go anywhere,” Buck says, repeats. “I’ll kiss you, if you want.”
“Buck-”
“I’ll love you, if you want.” Eddie is still drunk, Buck tries to remind himself. But it might actually kill him not to say it out loud when Eddie had said he feels like this all the time. How could he not say he feels like this all the time, too? “I’ll love you back. I love you back. I’ll eat all the spinach quiches for you.”
“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck doesn’t know what expression is on his face, doesn’t know what look is tied to this tone of voice. Is desperate to find out. Quiet down the line for a few moments. And then: “It’s late.”
Buck pulls his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Nearly midnight. “Yeah.” His hands feel clammy. It was too much. They should have waited to talk. Eddie wants out now, and that’s fine. Buck will —somehow, skin of his teeth — find a way to be fine with that.
But: “I want to go home,” Eddie says. “Buck. Come and take me home.”
“And then-”
“And then stay.”
“Okay,” Buck gets to his feet, tosses the half eaten bar in the trash. Eddie’s house has food. His home has things to eat.
“Okay,” Eddie says, confident now, everything decided, everything for sure. “I’ll see you soon.
“Minutes,” Buck says, grabbing his keys, half running to the door. “I’ll be there in minutes.”
“Minutes,” Eddie says back. And Buck can hear his smile.
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