#and that it’s way better to like the things you like and embrace it

[elikajinnie]

Soulmarked Rivalry - Y.J

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

[yandere-romanticaa]

I really enjoy the idea of a man like Ayato going into a tea house for some fine entertainment. The entire event is primarily disguised as a business dinner, but the Yashiro Commissioner knows better. He has been rubbing shoulders with this type crowd ever since he was a tiny lad. Besides, the eagerness which his dignitaries display is far too obvious to hide. They cover their grins behind their long sleeves, eyes gleaming with excitement and thrill at the thought of tonight's prospects.

Truthfully, Ayato was just as much of a savage beast as the men around him.

The key difference was that he was better in concealing his more perverse nature.

With a serene smile Ayato enjoyed the show, his eyes never leaving your figure, not even once. It was obvious that you were new amongst the girls, their saccharine grins far too picture perfect to be natural. You swished and swayed your body to the soft drums, making extra sure to highlight the best parts of your body as the table filled with customers in front of you cheered each of you all on, happily tossing shiny Mora in the air.

It was so hard to focus under Ayato's gaze. You knew who he was, everyone knew who he was. After the dance the ladies from the establishment cornered you, asking you questions on what the nature of your relationship was with the handsome commissioner. They advised you to stay docile and sweet in his presence, that you should never make a fuss and by doing so, not only will you never go hungry ever again, all sorts of doors could open up as well.

As expected, Ayato had ended up summoning you for a private show.

It was a very hush hush affair, with him being the only person in the room. He greeted you with tea, cakes and all sorts of tiny gifts which he had prepared before hand. By the end of the evening, you were no better than honey in his hands, hanging onto his every single word and whim, catering to his every desire he could come up with, no matter how small or silly it may be.

Ayato found himself enjoying how free you were, how open you were with your heart and desires. It was refreshing, like sweet spring air after a dark storm and he soaked it up like a sponge. The entire nature of this relationship was also beyond thrilling as it allowed him to unwind after a long and hard day of work.

However, he knew better than anyone that most things in life don't last forever. He could continue to play coy only for so long and since Ayato was not in the mood for games, he decided the best course of action to take was to just buy you out. He had the money and you would surely enjoy the comfort he would provide for you.

It was an ideal situation, truly.

He sat you down and shared his plans, eager to see a happy grin on your face as you chant Thank you, Master Ayato! over and over, as you tripped on your feet in a rush to embrace him.

Ayato typically likes surprises. They keep things fun and interesting, but the one you told him was anything but.

With confidence, you told him that you had no desire to stop working in this place, shamelessly admitting that you enjoyed making the various clientele satisfied with your services, regardless of how dirty it could be. The freedom, the pleasure, it was too much to give up.

His lips formed into a wicked little grin as his felt his heart beat through his chest. In a way, he admired your attitude. It was dazzling just how bold you had become and how you were so unafraid of him.

After that night, you figured that you would never see the man ever again.

Days went on, customers came and went and there was no sign of your dazzling commissioner. That did not stop the whispers and rumors from spreading like wildfire, particularly from the more devious or jealous women which you worked with. Venom would coat their words as they would eagerly remind you of just how you had cost them one of, if not the best customer in the entire nation.

It was difficult to tell whether or not they were celebrating this fact of it they were legitimately upset with you. However, this storm would soon come to pass, or so you had hoped. You always found it a little odd how Master Ayato had just left you to your own devices, how he hadn't bothered to pull any strings or just flat out threaten you for disobeying him. Most men in his position could afford such a luxury because the fallout would be next to none.

It would cost him nothing to just toss you onto the cold, dark street like a wet dog. He would not even need to break a single sweat to make you fall apart.

But your pride was too strong. It burned deep in your belly, the desire to spread your wings and do as you wished. Mora was the key to solve all of your problems and in due time, more than enough was going to be saved for any possible endeavor of yours. On several different occasions you had confessed to Master Ayato that you had wished to buy better make up, prettier clothes and a better house than you had already owned. Not to mention your unyielding wish to explore the world, to see step foot into each nation and see their glory with your own two eyes. You wished to sip on fine Mondstatd wine, to see the bright lanterns in Liyue, to watch the night sky in Snezhnaya.

And he had listened patiently to you, soaking in each word. He would pat you across the head or pinch your cheek and mutter how one day he was sure that all of that would come true.

People always did say that a person ought to be careful for what they wished for. Why?

Because they might just get their wishes granted.

On a chilly autumn morning, shouts rang loudly from outside of your establishment. Confusion was written on everyone's faces as they stared at the main entrance, trying to figure out who was causing the commotion.

Suddenly, the door was kicked down with such brute force that you could not even gasp, the wood simply breaking away from the hinges. Soldiers in armour filled the room, weapons in hand as they shouted about some arrests being made.

It was hard to focus with the commotion around you.

The soldiers were brutes, kicking away and smashing everything in sight. Fine paintings and scrolls were all over the floor like trash, the dashing kimonos and dresses snatched from their stations by feebleminded men, none of which cared for your safety and security.

Cries filled the air the head of the establishment was dragged by two soldiers, their arms wrapped tightly around the woman as she begged and pleaded for mercy, forgiveness and everything in-between. The pristine makeup she had so tirelessly worked on was but a fleeting memory, leaving only large traces of inky black mascara falling down her pale cheeks and messy blood red lipstick strewn across her tiny lips.

It felt like a nightmare come to life.

Like a vicious snake, a handsome man in white garbs had slithered inside the room, his steps so quiet that not even the wind could sense him coming. He clapped a few times, the pristine glove on his hands shining underneath the morning sun as the Yashiro Commissioner stared down each person in the room, his sea blue eyes laced with mock pity.

His voice filled the air to a suffocating degree, so much so that it made you choke on your own breath. There he was, Kamisato Ayato in the flesh, standing proud and strong, like an untouchable arrow seeking its target. He was so charming, so convincing that if you hadn't known better, you too would have bought into his lies.

How could someone so handsome be so adept at spewing such filth? Even as he accused your boss of various crimes, his voice was nothing less than kind and concerned.

He felt less like a man and more like a god. A twisted blend of mercy and cruelty who had been brought down from the heavens to cast judgment on mere mortals such as yourself.

In a flash, his eyes locked in on yours and it was all too clear on what he was aiming for. His gaze was deceitfully sweet but underneath that handsome gaze was an ever growing desire to seek, trap and possibly even maim.

Ayato always thought of himself as at least somewhat of a civil man but not even he was immune to the most basic of human desires. Each man who walked the earth was a beast, it just took some longer to wake up and realize that truth.

Kamisato Ayato had bared his fangs and shot you a grin, not even shying away from his true motives. He never lied when he said that he thought that your dreams were going to come true one day.

He merely left out the part that he was going to be the one who would get you there.

[yapileon]

@TacklerCulers: The Chaotic Teen Serie pt. 2

fcb femení x chaoticteen!reader pt. 1 2235w

17yo La Masia defender gets promoted to the first team. Will you be able to keep your fcb femení fan account hidden while slowly making your place in the team with your idols?

Alright you'll admit it. When you heard Aitana talking about your meme, you panicked, spending most of the night turning over in your bed. Realistically, there was no way anyone would ever link that account back to you, and also, you just used it to create funny memes and sometimes, you'd talk strategy too. Ok fair, you maybe had insulted some of the strategic decision from the Spanish federation once or twice (or a hundred time, but who's counting?). It was the Spanish federation after all, and you doubted anyone, and certainly not the team, would blame you for that.

To make sure to keep your hidden identity secret, it'd be simple, you just had to make sure to not be logged in the fan account when posting on your professional account. Also, you'd need to make sure to not use pictures you had taken yourself to make the memes. You smiled, satisfied, the plan was easy. Which means you now had time to post, Ingrid was your target today. It's true that you had a thing for memes, but what you liked even better were stats. Ingrid' stats? Magnificent. Chef kiss.

tacklersculers

liked by 273 people

posted 23 minutes ago...

You made a mental note to ask Ingrid's for passing tips later during your daily training session. But before, Alexia and most of the veteran players had decided a team bonding moment would be good to make sure you were well integrated.

While making your way to the training ground—because of course the team bonding would be in a recovery room from the training center��� you spotted a chocolate store. Deciding coming empty handed would be unpolite, you bought some boxes to bring to the team. Because who doesn't like chocolate, right?

Alexia Putellas. Of course Alexia does not eat chocolate. The blonde had smiled to you when you had knocked on the door, waving the sweets when the Catalan had opened. She had taken them gently to put them on the side, and spoke "Gracias, cariño, but I don’t eat chocolate during the season." Your face fell so low she quickly added, "The others will love it!" Talk about dying inside.

Patri had embraced you, before looking at you, worried.

"Something's wrong?"

You slumped. "I just arrived and I'm already messing up Alexia's routine..." The midfielder looked at you questioningly. "I brought chocolate."

The brunette smirked, "Great, more for us." and then she had ran to grab the chocolate boxes, dragging Pina with her. You couldn't help but giggle.

You made your way forward to where most of the team was staying. Jana patted the couch, inviting you and you threw yourself in the gap next to her.

"Hi guys! I brought chocolate, but Pina and Patri ran off with them, so I don't think you'll get any." You had said innocently.

And just like that, Mapi, Vicky and Kika jumped off their chairs, letting them fall to the ground in a loud bang and ran.

Irene sighed, "I swear these three don't even sprint that fast during matches." She was shaking her head, feigning disappointment, but you swore you could see a smirk on her lips.

You were too busy exchanging social medias with Jana to realize the two chocolate thief had come back, now chased by the three women. Pina and Patri were protecting the box as if it was their children, keeping it tight in between them. Vicky was trying to tear them apart to access the chocolate treasure, while Kika and Mapi were apparently plotting. That's when Mapi decided to throw herself at the thieve, tackling Patri to the ground.

"Ref! Unfair advantage! You're a defender you know how to tackle!" The midfielder tried to argue, but it was too late as Mapi held the box above her head, victorious.

"You'd all be getting red cards." Caro added, sighing at the desperate sight of the players acting like children.

You watched, amused, never thinking a simple box of chocolate would cause such a fuss.

Jana had gotten closer to you, and whispered in your ear "They like Churros even more than this, imagine the chaos it'd be." The smirk you gave her said it all, and you both mentally agreed to go and get Churros next time there would be a team bonding.

But Pina seemed set on making you pay for betraying her to the trio. She jumped on top of you and Jana, leaning heavily in both of your laps, looking at your phone.

That's when her eyes caught sight of your wallpaper of Mapi. She grabbed your phone. You screamed. She took off and you chased after her bickering for her to give you back your phone, but you hadn't seen that she had thrown it in Alexia's lap. The Catalan was squinting at your wallpaper, trying to decipher it.

"Is that..." She had started, unsure. "Is that a cardboard cutout of Mapi, next to you in bed?"

Your jaw dropped. "That's not what it looks like!" You were blushing furiously, if only you had been an ostrich your life would have been so much easier. You could have just banged your head in the ground and forget about whatever on earth was happening right now.

Mapi had sprinted even faster than when she went to run after the chocolate, hovering over Alexia's shoulder to look. She let herself fall on ground, holding her ribs while wheezing.

If you were not frozen, you could have tried grabbing back your phone before Alexia gave it to someone else, bus alas. The team was passing it to each other, all laughing.

"Wait, is she tucked in?!" Patri wheezed, already laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Vicky and Kika were both hitting each other, dying.

That sent some of the other players in a longer laughing fit. You dropped yourself on the couch, face buried in a pillow.

"It's the pyjamas for me," Ingrid added, pointing at the Christmas themed barça clothes you're wearing in the pic. You groan in response.

"Care to explain, cariño?" Alexia had said when most of your teammates had calmed down.

You whined, still hiding your face. "It's not fair, this is slander!"

Mapi, who had recovered from her laughing fit, had started to forcefully tear the pillow from you, but you were putting up a fight, unwilling to face the embarrassing truth just yet.

"Drop it or I'm filling a restraining order." The center back had teased, making you loosen your grip on the pillow, "You drop it! Or I'm never bringing you chocolate again!" you really tried to win, but the Spaniard was too strong for you.

When she took off the pillow from your face, you gasped, looking at her in horror. "First of all," you had started, furiously counting on your fingers. "That's your fault actually, because two years ago you didn't want to take a picture with me, so I stole that carboard from the Barcelona store." you recalled.

Now it was Alexia's turn to gasp "You stole that?" Her looks disapproving. You could tell she was not happy about that.

"It's cardboard anyways, it should be free?" You tried arguing, but were cut off by Frido, "That does not explain why you got the fake Mapi in your bed."

"Because my roommates wanted to steal her! So I had to protect cardboard Mapi."

You were dead serious. Two years ago, Barça B had won a big tournament, as a reward, the whole team was invited to watch a match from the first team. You had been delighted, thinking it would finally be your chance to get a picture with your idol. Except, things had not been going according to plan. The defender had been so focused on waving her barça flag around the field, time had slipped her mind and she was being hurried off the field. Leaving Mapi no time to interact with the fans. Before leaving, your group had been allowed to visit the merchandise store, as you were stomping around, visibly disappointed, you had seen it. A cardboard version of your idol, doing her famous lion pose. You hadn't really planned of doing it. Ok, maybe a little. So you had waited till the last moment, and when most of your teammates were out of the store, you had grabbed the cardboard cut-out and ran. You were a woman on a mission. Not stopping when you heard security guards shouting in Spanish behind you, or when you coach called your name in vain. When you were safe and sound, waiting in front of the team bus, you had looked at the life sized cardboard, appreciating it's beauty. "Totally worth it," you had mumbled to yourself.

The bus driver had looked at you weirdly, and you'd always remember the walk of shame of dragging that cardboard to the bedroom you shared with one of your teammates. Except she really wanted to have it too, asking if you two could split the custody. You did not want that, which meant you spent some long week never leaving fake Mapi alone, going as far as taking her in the bathroom with you when you showered, and keeping it in your bed.

Screeching brought your attention back to the women in the room with you.

"Do I have to be jealous?" Ingrid had screaming in between laughs. This was the final straw, chaos erupted in the recovery room. Even the serious players were gasping for breath. You swore you saw Ona almost fell out of her chair, clutching her side. The whole team was vibrating with joy.

You sighed, looking at Mapi. She had tears in her eyes and her grin was so wide you guessed her cheeks were burning. Those rare moments when the euphoria is so big, it feels like your whole body ache with it, the dopamine rush hitting you. That's when you decided that maybe, it wasn't so embarrassing after all and you laughed with them. If the center back, who was at least as concerned as you in this story, wasn't embarrassed or weirded out, then you wouldn't be either.

For a long time, it seemed everyone was driving themselves to laugh ever harder. Anytime someone stopped crackling, they'd look at each other and start loosing it even harder.

Though a knock had interrupted the room, allowing most players to catch their breath. Ona had jumped up to go get what you assumed was the food that had been ordered earlier. She had come back in record time.

Just as you thought the team might forget about your embarrassment, Aitana’s voice cut through the laughter, dragging you into your next moment of doom.

"Look at that Ona, you're being as fast as The Flash again."

Ona had taken this for a challenge apparently, and was now running in circle around everyone. Bumping against Caro, who had started unpacking the take outs, making her curse at Ona.

The younger players snickered, aware of the meme. But when you heard that you paled, you had almost forgot about what had happened in the locker room yesterday. And for Ona to take the meme at heart so much meant that some of the players really knew about it. It was just one funny picture, you did not think they'd bring the subject up again.

Sinking into the comfy couch, you went silent, listening to the team. The older players were distributing the food, making plates for everyone while looking at Aitana, unsure of what she was talking about.

"¿Qué?" Alexia questioned, looking confused, "The...The Flash?"

Ona and Vicky threw themselves next to the captain, pulling out their phone to show her the meme. Oh god, did they knew that much about your account?

Seriously, what on earth had you done to deserve all this. First there was the chocolate chaos, secondly your Mapi cardboard story, and now you had to deal with all of them talking about your secret fan account. Your karma was very obviously failing you, or you were a terrible person in a past life, but it definitely felt like some stronger power was against you today.

"Wait, is this me?" Ingrid exclaimed, pointing at the phone with a smile.

Jana looked, "Yeah, look like they posted a new meme this morning...94% pass completion, that's really good Ingrid!" she said brightly.

Irene joined the conversation, "So they don't just make funny memes, but also keep up with our statistics?"

"That's actually hilarious, send me their account please!" Frido chimed in, chewing on food.

You were too absorbed watching them, horror in your eyes, to realize Mapi had plopped down next to you. The woman looked so serious you almost panicked.

"You know kid," she had started, looking deep in your eyes, "If I had known you were so great, I would have fought the security to take a picture with you," You could see she was dead serious, and couldn't help bursting out laughing at the thought of her fighting off the security using her barça flag as a sword.

"Sure," you beamed, relaxed but trying you best to look serious.

She gave you a cheeky smile, before continuing "So, you're bringing my cardboard twin to training tomorrow?" the defender ruffled you hair. "That's it, no more chocolate for you, ever." Back to cringing in the pillow you went. But deep down, you felt exhilarated, like everything you had dreamt of for years was finally happening. You were making your place in the best team in the world. And if being teased was all you had to deal with, you'd take it in a heartbeat.

Oh and, you were definitely bringing fake Mapi to training tomorrow.

[dissapointu]

you’re a speedy bitch babe-

anyways! What if- what if jinx had a girlfriend that was affectionate! I assume Jinx is touch starved and to have a girlfriend that loves to cuddle, hold hands and etc!

That sounds so sweet and heartwarming for Jinx! Need this for her

• Cuddles: Jinx would absolutely melt under the attention of an affectionate girlfriend who loves to cuddle. She’s used to being alone, used to feeling abandoned or isolated, so your constant affection would overwhelm her in the best way possible. At first, Jinx might be hesitant, unsure how to handle the kindness without feeling guilty or afraid of being vulnerable. But slowly, she’d come to crave it. After a long day filled with chaos and unpredictability, she’d seek out the quiet comfort of your arms, curling up against you, her head resting on your chest as you run your fingers through her hair.

• Holding Hands: Jinx would be delighted by something as simple as holding hands. It would be a small but powerful gesture for her. She’d likely want to intertwine your fingers tightly, as if afraid to let go, afraid of losing that connection. At first, she might be jittery or fidgety, not used to the steadiness of love. But over time, holding hands with you would become a grounding force for her, a reminder that there’s someone who’s not going to leave her.

• Physical Affection: Jinx, while chaotic and unpredictable, would become a lot more tender with a girlfriend who showers her with love. She might cling to you during moments of insecurity, holding you tight when she’s afraid or when the voices in her head become too loud. She’d love when you trace your fingers down her arms or lightly graze her skin, even if she can’t always verbalize how much it means to her. There’s something about the way you touch her—soft, gentle, full of warmth—that brings her a sense of peace she doesn’t often get from anyone else.

• Spontaneous Affection: As someone who craves attention and affection, Jinx would get a little playful with it. She’d surprise you with spontaneous hugs, jumping into your arms, or wrapping herself around you in tight embraces. She might bury her face in your neck, hiding her face because she’s shy or overwhelmed by her feelings. Sometimes she’d need reassurance, needing to hear that you love her and that you’re not going anywhere. She might ask for a “just because” kiss, insisting it’s to “make her feel better,” though it’s clear she just wants to be close to you.

• Tender Moments: Despite her wild personality, Jinx’s affection would be full of tenderness. She’d seek you out in quiet moments, wanting to be close even when things are calm. Maybe she’d sit next to you, not needing to speak, just enjoying the simple comfort of your presence. She could be a little clingy at times, but in her mind, it’s because she knows how rare this kind of love is and doesn’t want to let it slip away. Her girlfriend would be her anchor, the one person who can offer her the stability and safety she’s never known.

• Building Trust: At first, Jinx might struggle to fully trust you with her vulnerabilities. She’s been through a lot and likely has difficulty with intimacy and dependence. However, over time, your patience and unwavering affection would slowly break down the walls she’s built. She would start to feel more secure, understanding that you are there for her no matter what. When she finally lets her guard down, you’d see a side of her that’s both playful and sweet, a side that’s only reserved for you.

• Jealousy and Protective Moments: Jinx, with her fiery and possessive tendencies, might get a little jealous at times, especially when she sees others giving you attention. It wouldn’t be a malicious jealousy, but more of an emotional reaction because she’s so used to being overlooked and alone. You’d quickly reassure her with your affection, maybe pulling her in for a kiss or hugging her tightly. In return, she’d shower you with even more love to make you feel just as wanted, clinging to you like a lifeline.

• Playful Side: Jinx would also have a very playful side when it comes to affection. She’d probably initiate tickle fights or challenge you to silly games just to get you to laugh and be close to her. Her love for you would be fun and carefree, and she would enjoy the little moments—holding you in her arms, kissing you on the cheek, and even laughing at how she could never get enough of you.

Drabble to go along with it:

The air is thick with the scent of metal and gunpowder, but you hardly notice. Not when Jinx is curled up beside you, her head nestled in the crook of your neck as she lets out a content sigh. She’s shaking slightly, a nervous habit you’ve come to understand. But tonight, there’s a calmness to her, as if your touch is the only thing grounding her to this moment.

You pull the blanket tighter around both of you, your fingers gently grazing through her wild, messy hair. She hums softly, pressing herself closer, her small hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if she’s afraid you might slip away. You’re used to her chaotic energy, her explosions of excitement, but moments like these? They’re rare.

“Stay close,” she murmurs, her voice so soft it almost breaks your heart. She’s usually all bright eyes and loud bursts of energy, but when she’s like this, when she’s vulnerable and small in your arms, you get a glimpse of the person behind the wildness. She’s just a girl who needs affection, love that doesn’t come with expectations or conditions.

You tighten your hold on her, kissing the top of her head lightly. “I’m not going anywhere, Jinx,” you promise, your voice steady and calm. You feel her breath hitch against your chest, the weight of her emotions pressing down in the silence. She’s used to being alone, used to living in a world where love is unpredictable, fleeting. But you’ve shown her that it doesn’t have to be.

Her fingers trace small patterns on your arm, and you smile softly. She doesn’t always know how to express it, but the way her body seeks you out—the way she pulls you closer, always searching for more—says everything.

When her hand slides into yours, fingers intertwining, you hold on tighter. You can feel her pulse, fast and erratic, but steady under your touch. “I like holding hands,” she whispers, almost sheepishly, as if it’s something she doesn’t deserve. But you squeeze her hand reassuringly, silently telling her that this—this tenderness, this connection—is exactly what she deserves.

She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes glinting with something deeper, something softer. “Promise you’ll never leave?” she asks, the question almost tentative, a quiet vulnerability she hides behind her usual chaotic grin.

“Promise,” you say without hesitation, brushing a lock of hair from her face. You can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips as you lean down to kiss her forehead, gentle and warm. She melts into it, her body relaxing fully against yours.

For once, in the stillness of the moment, there are no explosions. No chaos. Just you, Jinx, and the simple comfort of affection. And as she buries her face in your shoulder, holding onto you like you’re her anchor, you know that you’re the safe place she’s always needed.

And you’ll never let go.

[fairytsuk1]

no caller id | (s)

apart of maki's kinktober: the 2024 anthology

prompt: ghostface, exhibition/voyeurism, stalking

pairing: alex quackity x reader

words: 6.1k

warnings: scream!au, mentions of murder and violence, stalking, exhibition and voyeurisms, stockholm syndrome, friends to lovers, masturbation, phone sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, condom usage

There were few things you and Alex disagreed on. You had your moments, sure, but you were thick as thieves. Anyone and everyone could see that. You were his, and he was yours, “it’s totally not romantic, just platonic companionship!”

So, you got along well. Horror movies, though… That was one unfortunate, disagreeable thing between you two. You would go all in with the popcorn and the candy and top it off with a fuzzy blanket draped over your form. Alex would signify his leave the minute you got comfortable before acquiescing and sitting next to you, face anxious and full of fear as he sat still.

He just wasn’t the type of person to indulge in such media. That’s why seeing Alex so enthralled in the Ghostface killings happening around town was so utterly shocking. He flips his phone towards you, and you’re graced with gory crime scene photos and a news article, “Alex! I don’t wanna see that.”

Alex sighs and nods before showing you another photo as he leans across your countertops. He’d come over for a late-night study session, but after too many Celsius drinks, it was safe to say that you were not going to pass your exam.

“This happened right by your dorm! You should see, you’ve gotta stay safe with that killer out there.”

He says it in the midst of your kitchen, wearing your too-big t-shirt and too-big sweatpants. He was fretting over you. It’s so domestic, your heart squeezes at the fond way he gazes at you; he’s warmth and love that tastes like the finest wine. You couldn’t get too distracted admiring the dotted freckles on his cheeks and wisps of dark hair, no. That wasn’t platonic of you. You shake your head, “I don’t care. I just don’t wanna get freaked out by that stuff.”

Alex hums and scrolls some more. He’s withholding, and your fingers come to poke at his ribs, “what?”

“You probably don’t want to know who died then, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

You give him an incredulous look with raised eyebrows. Alex makes a face and looks away before snapping back to look at you. He hems and haws before the words slip past his lips faster than he can stand them.

“Carlos Rodriguez, ring a bell? Says here he was dismembered walking home–”

“Oh god! Stop, that’s…” horrifying.

“That was the guy you went on a date with,” he pops a grape into his mouth like it was the most casual thing in the world, “right?”

“Yeah, yeah. It was.”

He observes you for a moment. Your eyes look guilty, and he can’t place why. It makes something inside of him twinge. He’s rounding the counter in seconds and wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a protective embrace. Alex smells like warm musk, spicy with a hint of cinnamon. You instinctively curl towards him and bury your face in his neck. He was always comforting.

Alex preens when you go in for the hug, feeling your chest squish against his as he pulls you close to him, “it’s alright. He’s in a better place now! You have me; I’ll keep you safe.”

It’s a sweet sentiment. As if Ghostface would come after the two of you. You try not to hone in on his ‘you have me.’ He was considerate of your feelings and wanted to make you feel safe. Your heart pitter-patters in your chest. His hand rubs small circles on your back, and you shudder, pressing closer to his warmth.

You both stay like that. Alex keeps you enveloped within him for as long as he can, purring soft comforts into the shell of your ear. His lips brush against the sensitive skin before he picks you up into his arms and drags you to the couch. 

“Come on. It’s movie night!”

It doesn’t really leave your mind, though, even as you sidle up close to Alex while re-watching your favorite movies.

“And you’ve known Alex for how long?”

A gaggle of your friends sit around your dorm, Christina being the first to start the interrogation. It’d been a week since Carlos had been killed, and you’d been spending all your time with Alex. It was for safety, you said. It’s just so nothing happens, you reiterated. Your friends knew better.

“Five years? Six?”

“Oh my god! He wants to date you,” Imane exclaims. “It’s obvious, he buys your lunch, you guys cuddle: you just need to man up!”

“Woman up,” Noah emphasizes before sipping on his beer. “But I agree, he’s got it bad for you.”

You sit in the center with flushed cheeks, “we’re just friends, guys!”

“Friends who wanna fuck,” Christina adds with a laugh.

“But isn’t it suspicious he hasn’t made a move yet? Like, what’s he waiting for?”

“Guys, come on. He’s not bad or suspicious or anything! He’s just shy…”

You defend your man, but Noah blurts out the unthinkable. The inconceivable.

“Maybe he’s Ghostface!”

The silence was deafening against your speakers, humming a tune of bedroom pop; you could hear your blood rushing in your ears. You all pin Noah with a deep stare. How could he say that?

“That’s not funny, Noah.”

“I’m not saying anything! I’m just saying maybe he doesn’t want to date you because he’s too busy chopping up people’s bodies or something.”

“Noah! Enough,” you cry with hands covering your ears. “I’m not listening to you! I don’t want to listen to you.”

“Listennn, I like the guy. Trust-wise? He’s on my list.”

What if he was? Can you tell? You’re not sure, and you think about it for a while. There was something about the Ghostface persona that you’d initially joked about being hot, but that was before it hit so close to home. You were unsure and unsettled. Alex couldn’t be capable of something so horrid. He was your best friend and, admittedly, your crush. It just wasn’t believable.

You’re stuck in your head for the rest of the kickback. Alex had said he couldn’t come; he was “swamped with homework.” It wasn’t exactly believable since you shared a Google Calendar together: even more definitive proof of you two toeing the line between friends and lovers, a sentiment echoed by your friend group.

The sun sets into an inky black night, and your friends are filed out of the room. You’re left alone and freezing. A hot shower might do you some good. You take your time. The bathroom fills with its warm steam as you turn the knob and let your clothes drop one by one. Your phone rings. Your wrist is dampened from the brief spray of water, pulling out your arm to decline the call.

They call again, and you’re huffing as you swing your phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” a gritty voice filters through and purrs your name. “Getting ready for bed?”

You know in your heart who it is. That telltale voice, the way he repeated your name… Ghostface had asked you a question, and your legs tremble as your mouth gapes, “it’s in your best interest to answer.”

“Yes! Yes, I am,” you squeak out.

“That’s nice. I like your panties. Teddy bears? How cute.”

“How do you know that?”

Your voice is firm, yet its slightest wobble makes Ghostface chuckle. This couldn’t be happening. It was impossible. The shower drips and sputters in the background as your breathing grows heavier. It was impossible.

“Let’s play a game. Tell me your favorite scary movie.”

Unshed tears glisten in your eyes, “I don’t want to.”

“You have to. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“I don’t know! Please, I don’t–”

“I’m not gonna kill you, so just answer the fucking question, pretty girl.”

Rivulets of tears stream down your cheeks as you choke out an answer. The panic and sickening arousal courses through you. He kept complimenting you, making you feel all gooey inside, all while the threat of his power loomed over you like a fog that grew thicker every moment you stood in fear. He grew on your fear, he devoured it whole.

“I like the Chucky movies.”

Ghostface laughs, and it’s so familiar, but then he’s going from joyful to mad as he teases you over the phone.

“Ah, with the doll? Not as big of a fan of me, hmm?”

“Y-You’re scaring me,” you whisper, phone clenched in your fist. “What do you want from me?”

There’s a deep pause before he continues.

“I just wanted to play with you before bed. You should show yourself off more,” he hums and then sighs. “Enjoy the shower, pretty.”

He can’t help but add, “you don’t know what you do to me.”

Click. Ghostface hangs up, and your dreadful face stares back at you in the mirror. Were you meant to feel slick between your thighs as Ghostface lulled sweet compliments towards your body? No, it was wrong! It was so bad that you had to gnaw on your lip to prevent yourself from pressing the “call back” button.

Water streams down your forehead and nose, pooling at your feet before sliding down the drain. Your hands run through your soaked strands with a slight tremble as you sniffle, wondering if that murderer stands under a similar stream of water to watch crimson flow down the drain. You can’t get it out of your head as you towel off and slip on silky pajamas. Your heavy body sinks into the covers, and you stare at the ceiling. It’s almost on instinct for you to reach over with a huff and pull up Alex’s contact.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“I can’t sleep,” you murmur as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “Will you come over?”

You can hear him yawn, and you’re quick to apologize even as he waves you off, “don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

Barely ten minutes pass by before a gentle knock sounds at your door. There’s a stream of light as he enters that shines and is then blown out when he closes the door behind him.

Alex tiptoes in, toeing his shoes off by the door, “I’m here.”

You’re already breathing heavily and scooting over to give him more room. Alex looks at your sleepy eyes that stare back at him in the dark, joining you and slipping under your fluffy duvet to get close to you. You aren’t touching, but you’re so damn close. You need him closer, and the need to feel his skin against yours is overwhelming your entire being.

“Can we cuddle?”

Alex adjusts with his head on his hand, arm bent, and lying on your pillow as you snuggle a little closer, “yeah. C’mere.”

A buff arm wraps around your figure, and it’s heavenly. You tuck your face into the crook of his neck and inhale his freshly showered scent, making you instantly relax in his arms. Your feet tangle with his, and he lets out a soft hiss at the cool feeling of your toes against his ankles. You both fall asleep, tangled in soft breaths, and the comfort of muscle looped around you. As you dream of nothingness, it then turns into something hapless.

“...Alex?”

Your voice is dreamy and wispy. You can hardly speak out, let alone yell out. Ghostface and Alex sit facing each other, and you call louder, eyes fluttering and blurring as you draw closer. You know it’s a dream, but you can’t help but take it as fact, as reality.

“What are you doing?”

They both turn towards you, Ghostface’s mask shaped in a long, menacing grin as he tilts his head towards you. Blood starts seeping from the edges of the mask and runs down its contours as it continues staring into your soul. You turn towards Alex, horrified to see him with a sickening grin as ruby red drops splatter on his face, “what’s wrong?”

There’s no reply as they both reach for you in a desperate bid to make you join whatever fucked-up seated circle they were reveling in. Revelling. That was the reason Alex was smiling. You awake with a gasping start.

It’s hard to focus on classes, on homework, on your relationships. You’d be holed up in libraries and study rooms with your ringer on in case another killing happened. They did happen, two in the same week. You couldn’t stop thinking, wondering if he’d sweet-talked his victims before brutally shoving the knife in deep till the fight leaked out of them. Did he call them, too?

You’d have told anyone, but there was no one to tell. Your friends would encourage you to tell the police, and there was no excuse for hiding something as crucial as a phone call from Ghostface. You’d be vilified within seconds. You couldn’t tell Alex, and it wasn’t even your fault. Alex had been distant. Busy, he’d said. Liar, you bit back.

He blew you off on the days you typically get lunch. He packed his bag up quickly as he bid you goodbye. The eye bags on his face only got darker and deeper, you were feeling worried. Maybe he was just as affected by the killings as you were. Just as affected by Ghostface as you were. It was still hurtful.

It hurt even more, knowing that your heart would beat rabbit fast at the thought of him. It was clear now, crystal. You liked Alex; you only wanted Alex. You thought this was mutual. You cuddled, were close, and shared your first kiss at a dumb high school party. Maybe he didn’t feel the same or care about your crestfallen expression as he urged ahead to leave class early.

You tried to repeat to yourself that he was just busy. Though you were unaware of it in his absence, Ghostface had you right where he wanted you. Open, pliable and all his. The phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Ghostface elongates your name, and you can hear his smirk through the phone. “How are you?”

You should just hang up. You shouldn’t even entertain it, he needed to leave you alone. You press the phone closer to your ear.

“Please, stop calling me!”

“Mmm, no. I want to talk to you. Don’t deny me.”

“You just wanna talk because you’re a freak,” you retort and sit up in bed with your hands angrily fisting the sheets. “Leave me alone.”

“Freak?”

Ghostface bursts into a peal of deep laughter. It’s mocking, and you wonder if he’s watching you.

“The only freak here is you refusing to hang up the phone.”

“I-I’m not refusing! I’ll hang up right now–”

“But you won’t,” he interjects quickly. “I know you won’t.”

“And how do you know that? Maybe I’ll call the police!”

“I know you won’t do that, either.”

He’s right. You’re too stricken and impulsive, fighting every word he says with a monologue. Your teeth worry your lips as you take a deep breath, “are you watching me right now? Like in the shower?”

“Yes,” his breathing seems deeper. “I’m watching you right now. You look fantastic.”

“I’m just in my pajamas.”

“I like how they look.”

You shouldn’t indulge in this any longer. It was so wrong, and you were making yourself so vulnerable. Socked feet cross as you turn to glance out your window; there’s nothing there.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

A hand that has a mind of its own comes to the hem of your shirt. The mingled breaths between you two nearly echo on the call, and you’re slipping a hand under the cotton to touch your stomach.

“That’s a nice sight,” and there’s a rustling of fabric as he seemingly shifts positions. “What do you think you’re doing, hmm?”

“Testing you. If you were gonna kill me, you would’ve done it when I was in the shower.”

“I’m not so cliché.”

“Really? I beg to differ,” and you’re not sure where the confidence comes to set your phone down and peel your top off from your body.

Your nipples harden instantly as the cool air. You sit with your chest exposed and a rapid heartbeat, quickly putting the phone to your ear just to catch the briefest groan, “are you still there?”

“Of course. Take off your shorts.”

His command makes you hesitate. Were you really going to go through with this? Ghostface’s voice crackles in the still air, “don’t be shy.”

The drawstring is undone in seconds, loose fabric slipping down your thighs to your ankles before you unceremoniously kick them away.

“There, I did it,” you whisper as if someone was listening to your debauched call. There’s a long stretch of silence and rustling. “Hello?”

“You look really sexy like this,” he whispers in a breathy tone.

If you listen even closer, the wet squelch of him fisting his cock is obvious. Your hand starts at your collarbone and dips to squeeze your tits, “aah…!”

“Play with them, let me see.”

It doesn’t matter that he’s watching you from God knows where; your eyes slip closed as pathetic mewls escape your lips with every grope of your fingers.

“A-Ah, fuck,” you whisper before laying back to let another hand follow the curve of your sternum to the flat of your tummy. Ghostface openly moans when your manicure nails brush against your waistband. He moves his hand faster; you’re intoxicated by every ‘thwip’ of his fist as he jerks off.

“I wish I could touch,” his grunts echo, and he teases himself lewdly with his thumb running over his leaky slit. “I-I’ll fuck you so good.”

Your clit is throbbing when you finally start rubbing pathetic little circles. Writhing, your lips part to breathily whine out, “Ghostfaceee!”

“Ohmy, fuck. Put them inside. Fuck yourself, pretty.”

It’s easy to do what he says, your whole greedily sucks your fingers in deep. Your hand tweaks your nipple while your toes dig into your plush bed, “fffuck me! Oh my god, feels so good!”

“Gonna blow my load all over you—ngh, shit. I can’t wait to touch you for real. Yeah, yeah; fuck. Soak ’em for me.”

Ghostface’s rambling spurs you on, and your fingers rub right against that spongy spot that makes you convulse and gush all over your hand.

“Oh, fuuuck!”

Your face presses hard into the pillows as he cums. You could imagine his hips popping up as he came all over his knuckles. A few minutes pass, and the only thing audible is your mingling breath while you both come down from your eyes.

The phone is pressed to your ear as you eagerly ask if he’s still there.

“I am,” he says slowly. “Have a good night.”

“W-Wait!”

You call back several times, but they all go unanswered. He leaves you spoiled and naked in bed with a slick drying on your inner thighs.

The post-nut clarity left you sleepless and wondering if you had just made the biggest mistake of your life.

The guilt wears down on you like a weighted blanket; every square inch of your body can’t stop imagining the voice, and the guilt coats you in another heavy layer of shame. You try to fight back, but the fabric is never-ending, and you’re useless against its power.

You had to tell someone. Anyone. It has to be Alex; no one else needs to know anything other than him.

[you]: hey

[you]: will you come over?

[you]: need to talk to you

[alex]: be there in a few <3

The heart makes you smile. Locking your phone and setting it aside, you tug your knees to your chest in waiting. How would you tell him? More like admitting to him since you were undoubtedly hiding this fact of admiration because it was so shameful and wrong. Alex knocks lightly on your door, and your voice is shaky when you call, “come in!”

He looks calm, if a bit confused. Alex’s eyes scan you before sitting beside you on your plush bed. He always looks at you with those amber eyes that show pure devotion.

“What’s got you all wound up, huh?”

A gentle hand releases your knees from your embrace, Alex’s arm slinking past the back of your neck to cup you close by the shoulder. You tuck yourself into his side with ease. He hums for a bit, rousing you with a shake.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, it’s just… I don’t know. Something happened.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes! I’m okay,” you take a deep breath, and your head tilts up to peer at him with anxious eyes. “Just don’t freak out that bad, okay?”

He doesn’t reply, only maintaining eye contact as his thumb rubs circles into your soft skin.

“Ghostface… called me. We had a conversation.”

“...What?”

He says your name with a laugh, “you probably just got prank called!”

“No, Alex. I’m serious! Please,” you grab his shirt and tug him so close that your noses brush. “I talked to Ghostface, seriously. You need to believe me.”

“How do you even know it was really him, hm?”

Oh, you knew. The telltaletelltale scratchy voice. The deep, mirthy laugh. How he coaxed you to orgasm through simple words of, “you can go harder than that; I’ve seen you.”

“I-I just know. It was him, he was stalking me.”

“Okay… so Ghostface is coming after you?”

“I don’t know what he’s planning! I guess so,” you bury your face into his beauty mark-dotted neck. “I don’t know what to do. What if he’s just waiting to kill me?”

“No way. He’d be stupid, you already told me. I’m, like, almost a witness to it.”

That was true. Now that Alex knew if anything happened… you’d have someone to back you up. You squeeze him in gratefulness.

“Then what should I do? Hire a bodyguard!?”

“I don’t think you have bodyguard money,” he teases. “But I can always walk with you anywhere, everywhere. And what if–no, never mind.”

“Alex, you need to tell me everything you’re thinking,” you urge.

He looks apprehensive, teeth tugging his lip between them to gnaw at the sensitive skin. He looks all around your room, his eyes landing on a framed photo of the two of you at an amusement park. Alex is grinning while holding a peace sign; your hair flies wildly and without abandon as the sun shines down on you two, “what if we found a way to catch him? You know, set a bait.”

Your face twists up immediately.

“Bait? I’d be the bait! This is a horrible idea–”

“Hear me out! I’d be waiting there and see if he shows up. You could make sure it’s obvious you’re alone. Ghostface comes, I tackle him, and boom! We call the police, and he’s finally gonna be held accountable.”

Alex eyes you, “what do you say?”

It was such a dumb idea. Every part of you screaming to lock the door and shut the blinds. But you don’t. Alex texts you periodically to check in, but the plan was just an unsafe waste of time for a while. But your phone rings at half past eleven.

“...Hello?”

“Hiya,” he croons your name, and your blood runs cold.

“I’m hanging up!”

“Don’t you fucking dare, or I’ll gut Alex myself.

You whimper, “I don’t want to die!”

“Then play a game with me. How about warmer or colder?”

It gives you a sickening pause. You held Alex and your own life in the palm of your hands, the threat of losing what means most to you evident. Your valued life and love would be lost through the gaps of your fingers like rivulets of clear water. You stand.

You had to be brave for both of you.

“Are you in my apartment?”

“Now, you’re playing,” and he chuckles over the phone.

A thick gulp sticks in your throat as you swallow. Something takes you to the kitchen where you peer around the corner to gaze into the yellow-lighted tiles and counters filled to the brim with your things, “colder.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

Ghostface has no reply. You move away from the kitchen, soft steps padding against the ground like a knowing prey animal. You glance at the living room, eyes scanning for a Ghostface-shaped hiding spot.

“Warmer,” his voice lulls, and he sounds so fucking amused that it makes your heart clench.

“Where’s Alex?”

Ghostface has no reply, and you frustratedly groan at him over the phone, “watch your tone.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’re bratty today, hm? All wound up over Alex?”

“Just stop talking about him!”

It makes warmth spread all past your cheeks and ears. You venture forward and stare at the looming hallway before you. Finally, you registered the tremble in your knees as they knocked against each other.

“Hot.”

Your hall closet stares menacingly at you, and your stomach drops. You got to turn, but his voice commands you to stop, “freezing!”

There’s a shake in your lip as your ears fill with salty tears that threaten to spill over onto your cheeks. You blink them away and take step by step closer. Breathing grows heavy and restricted before you’re standing before the hall closet.

“You’re on fire.”

The door is yanked open forcefully, revealing beige and white towels with silk sheets. There was no one there. He lied! Only then, does Ghostface leap from your bedroom door to wrap his arms around you from behind. You try to scream, but a gloved hand slots easily over your mouth as he begins to tug you.

You kick and scream and cry like a petulant child as you fight with all your power. He doesn’t seem all that interested in your pleas. He only grunts softly as you land whack upon whack on him. However, he’s undeterred as he hoists you up like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder.

“No! No, lemme go! Let. Me. Go!”

“Come on,” he drawls your name as he lays you flat and helpless on your back against the couch.

He easily fits over you and pins your wrists to the fluff of the furniture. The two of you stare at each other, and you’re panting wildly with fear and adrenaline. Ghostface adjusts to straddle you, sinking down till his hips are flush against yours.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“A-About what?”

“Fucking me. I know you have, you wanna know how I know?”

“Yes! Yes, please, just–”

The mask is ripped away to reveal a harsh, shocking truth. It’s Alex, sweaty with matted hair that sticks to his forehead. You nearly go limp from the shock and stress as he looks down at you with pleading eyes, “don’t shy away from me, now. You weren’t like this earlier.”

“I don’t, I don’t understand! W-What’s going on, ‘lex?”

You murmur his nickname desperately, watching as he gnaws on his plush bottom lip. His lip trembles as he peers at you, his hands loosening their grip on your wrists. You wiggle a hand free and wrap it around his shoulders, your hand splaying flat against his back and holding him protectively, “but why?”

“I needed you,” he croaks. “I needed you to realize you want me.”

He starts nosing at your neck, lips planting gentle kisses on the smooth expanse of your throat. A weak whine rises and dies from your lips.

“Alex, I–wait, this is!I–”

“What you’ve been craving, right? What you’ve been needing.”

He sucks on your pulse point, and you arch lewdly into his all-encompassing black robes. He’s sticky with spit as he collides the two of you together into a heady kiss.

It’s all you’ve been wanting, but it’s all the wrong circumstances. He presses with such need into you, such desperation; your mouth slips open wider to tangle with his syrupy tongue.

“That’s it,” he huffs and lightly rocks his bulge against your sweatpants.

He’s so hard, you can feel him shudder as he presses forward again to lightly hump against you.

“Wanted to just have you all to myself.”

He joins you once again to heavily make out, both of you growing more and more eager by the second. You bury yourself within him, his hand groping your breast with a groan of satisfaction.

“You’ve kept me waiting,” Alex tugs your earlobe with his teeth. “Every time we cuddled, hugged… I just wanted to fuck you to tears.”

It makes such a hot moan escape, your toes curling as you writhe beneath him.

“Fuck, really?”

“Yes, I needed you more than I could stand!”

Alex’s hands are eager as they skim your stomach to reveal more of your glowing skin. He bites his lip in anticipation, observing as the shirt reveals your perky tits; he can’t help but latch his mouth to your budding nipple and suck.

“Oh, fuuck. Alex, shit.”

“Feels good, right? Mmm, love how these feel.”

He grins before diving in and peppering love bites and suckles along your sensitive skin. Buff arms wrap around your middle and pull you closer, teeth grazing the underside of your tit; he laves a dark mark and pulls away with a wide smirk.

You realize Alex’s clothing is still on. You’re tugging his robes up the minute your eyes are able to focus–he was a god with his tongue, and you needed it more than just toying with your boobs.

“You need to take this, ngh, off.”

“Yeah, you want it off?”

“Don’t tease me, ‘lex. I wanna see you. Not Ghostface.

It gives Alex pause, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he pulls back to look at you.

“... You really mean it?”

“Yes,” you purr. “I really do.”

Alex quickly tugs off his draping outfit, sighing as his bare, caramel chest is given its glory. Suddenly, you see him for who he is. A man, a man you’re soaking your panties for. You need him like a fish needs water.

The two of you meld together like it’s all you’ve ever known. In a way, Alex is all you’ve ever known.

Your hands greedily feel him up, squishing his pecks and running your thumb over his hardening nipples. His hips pop once with a meek whimper escaping him, “I-I should be doing this to you.”

“But you’re not,” you taunt and latch your mouth to his chest and suck.

A keening whimper escapes Alex as his fingers tangle into your tresses, pushing his chest further into your tongue with a whine.

The two of you meet in a sloppy kiss, Alex pushing you onto your back as he leaves love bites down your neck. He leaves more on the other side of your breast, sucking soft, supple skin to leave bruises of remembrance.

Alex pauses, his eyes flickered to yours and a steamy gaze, “can I… Can I eat you out?”

It doesn’t feel weird, even if he’s your best friend. Your knees fall apart wider as you give a shy nod, “y-yeah. Be gentle—I’m sensitive.”

He hums and levels with your pussy. Alex’s right hand comes to entangle with yours as his breath fans over your soaked panties. You both stare in a terse, heated moment before he’s licking with the flat of his tongue.

“Ooh! Shit…!”

Alex makes it sloppy while teasing you over soaked cotton. His smirk is evident when you cry out and practically crush his hand as he laves over your swollen clit.

“You taste like candy,” he pulls your panties to the side with a groan. “And you’re so wet.”

“You’re embarrassing me—aah! Ohmygod, ‘lex!”

He dives in like a man starved, and in a way he is. Alex slurps messily at your folds, tongue swirling your creamy hole before sucking your clit into his hot, wet mouth.

Your fingers grip and tug ferociously as you grind your cunt against his face. Alex’s eyes slip closed as he loses himself in you, his adept tongue working you open.

It burns hot and white as your stomach clenches. You ride his face, and he lets you, “‘lex!! ‘M gonna cum!”

There’s a wet, inaudible groan, and Alex is pressing his tongue at your entrance and tongue-fucking you. The hot strand of pressure snaps, and you cum with a needy cry.

“Alex,” you sob out, knees squeezing his head as he helps you through your orgasm. “C-Can’t! Too much, please!—”

He pulls away with a glistening mouth and jaw. He’s so hard in just his boxers, and you can taste yourself as you bring him in for a messy kiss.

“I can’t believe I just,” you cut him off with another desperate peck, “mmf—just ate you out.”

“Don’t brag about it,” you murmur against his lips before he settles back on his haunches.

Alex starts to claim he’s not “bragging,” but you hone in on the reveal of his thick, bobbing cock after freeing it from his boxers. The fat tip smears pre-cum on his navel and your mouth waters. God, you needed him.

He fishes out a condom from his black robes, and you draw close to help roll it on. He’s hot to the touch and shivers at how your hand barely wraps around him, “thank you.”

Your hand is still on his dick as you smile up at him. Alex gives you a tender grin before motioning you to lie back. He uncoils like a snake, stretching across you to lay between your legs. His dick just barely brushes your throbbing clit, and you jump at the contact. Alex swallows and seems nervous as he grips his base.

“I-I love you,” he says. “I love you.”

The world seems to stop for a moment. You stare into the galaxy of brown amber held in his eyes.

You can hardly breathe, and you swear your heart’s crawling up your throat and about to beat past your lips. Alex’s eyes search yours for something, anything. You hadn’t realized how silent you’ve been, “I love you, too.”

Alex laughs and scoots a little closer, his cock head just barely pressing against your fluttering hole.

“God, you really made me nervous there.”

“You’re about to be inside me! I wasn’t ready for a confession…”

Alex kisses your pout away and sinks into you with a hefty groan, “holy shit.”

You’re scratching his back from the deliciously sinful way he stretches you out. With the legs looped around his hips, he starts to shallowly thrust. His dick plunge is deep and drags heavy amidst your spasming gummy walls.

“Fuck me, oh, yes!”

“Ngh,” he grunts, and his hips are hitting yours with punishing claps.

Alex makes you submit, laying there in a writhing heap as you take him in your guts. His hips angle upwards, and he’s battering your g-spot while uttering sweet nothings into your ear, “you’re such a good girl. Ah, ah, fuck; c-can’t believe I’m fucking your pretty pussy.”

Your lips are swollen red and parted as Alex fills you entirely over and over and over! You cling to him in a pathetic embrace, barely able to keep your eyes open while staccato moans fill Alex’s ear.

“Alex, I-I can’t for m-much—ooh!! Ohgod, gonna cum…!”

In between your sweaty, grinding bodies, Alex’s sneaky hand slinks down to messily rub your clit, “you’re fucking perfect.”

His voice shakes with a compliment, and his thumb presses his hard circles on your sensitive nub. It’s enough to break you down in a mix of cries and sobs as you cum all over him, “oh fuu-huh-ck!”

Alex inhales sharply, chasing his own high as your walls squeeze him during your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck. Baby, I—!!”

He lets out a whimpering squeak before burying deep and emptying his balls inside the condom. He thrusts once, twice, before collapsing down onto you with panting breaths on his lips.

You both are exhausted. Your bare foot presses against the cool plastic of his mask, and you blurt your question before you can even think.

“Did you really kill all those people?”

He doesn’t look at you, merely planting kiss after kiss on your exposed skin, “I did it all for you.”

There’s no guilt or apprehension this time. Only the way your heart sings with love.

-

“It’s hard to say whether Ghostface had help this time,” the newscaster reports. “But, it’s an ongoing reminder to lock your doors and report any suspicious activity…”

The screen goes black as Alex laughs and cuts the TV off. Your eyes trace his features, the delicate curve of his nose, and the slope of his lips; he is stunning. Neither of you speak of the mutual dried flecks of blood on each other’s cheeks.

[ohe-ohe]

Linemates to Lifemates: A Hockey Love Story

Newlywed PWHL stars Laura Stacey and Marie-Philip Poulin navigate the complications of marriage and career

By Devin Heroux, CBC Sports, Nov. 21, 2024

When you walk into the Montreal home of Marie-Philip Poulin and Laura Stacey, one of the first things you’ll notice is that there’s not much to suggest the couple are two of the greatest hockey players in the world today. 

They aren’t the type of people to boast about their long list of achievements. 

Their two-storey abode, with a spiraling glass staircase, is tucked on a quiet suburban street, located off-island away from the hustle and bustle of downtown. Purchased three years ago, it’s the perfect place to keep a low profile. 

There are no trophies, plaques or medals on display that showcase the Olympic and world championships they’ve collected. No photos or banners of their hockey triumphs. Those are reserved for Arlo, a golden retriever that is their pride and joy. 

There’s an Arlo treat jar. An Arlo candle. At their wedding in late September the napkins at each table were adorned with Arlo photos. He features prominently on their social media

Their home, in many ways, resembles how these newlyweds and PWHL Montreal Victoire teammates have lived their lives. They’ve been intentional about hiding from the spotlight, hiding their love, and hiding the most intimate parts of their lives. 

Over the past year that’s started to change.

[whole article below]

Sitting in their living room on an October afternoon just before they begin training camp for a second season, the two share what this has all been like, including now being part of a true pro women’s hockey league, something they wondered and many before them wondered would ever happen in their lifetime.   

“Being able to say we're professional women's hockey players, it's pretty amazing,” Poulin says. “And seeing little girls wanting to be there one day is better than we ever expected. And we don't take it for granted.”

Nor do they take for granted the freedom they have to live their lives as they wish.

“This is probably the most myself I've ever been,” Poulin says. “Being myself, having the community, family and friends embracing me, embracing us, embracing this new team. And it doesn't matter who you love, it's who you are. And I think that's the best part about it.”

It hasn’t been easy for many who have come before them. Twenty-six years ago in Nagano when women’s hockey debuted as an official Olympic sport, some media coverage focused more on the sexual orientation of the players than the competition.

But relationships among athletes are slowly gaining a normality in women’s pro sports. In 2021, married couple Allie Quigley and Courtney Vandersloot won a WNBA championship with the Chicago Sky, and they are just one of many couples in the league. 

Women’s sports is undergoing a transformative expansion — new leagues, more money and investment, increased media coverage — and the story of teammates as couples is only going to become more common.

“I've always been the hockey player. But I have a wife and I can be myself. People are coming to the rink and saying thank you for allowing me to be myself,” Poulin says. 

Stoic and composed in a hockey arena, Poulin’s eyes well up as she talks about their September wedding. Stacey sits beside her, Arlo on the couch. Tears are streaming down Poulin's cheeks and she hides her face under her black ball cap. 

“She’s a crier,” Stacey says, rubbing her hand along Poulin’s back, filling the space between tears as Poulin tries to compose herself. 

Poulin, 33, has kept who she really is buried for years, shoved away in the depths of all that she is. She was only going to let people know her as this great hockey player who comes up clutch in the biggest moments.

Poulin is the only hockey player in history to have scored in four Olympic gold-medal games. Her heroics in the 2014 Olympic final — tying the game with a late goal and then winning it in overtime against the United States to capture gold — put her in a category all by herself. She’s been seemingly unstoppable for years. 

Stacey, 30, found a way to break through that tough exterior, to strike at the heart of all the things that matter to Poulin. 

“She puts up that front of, ‘I'm the hockey player’. That's all people see and have seen of her,” Stacey says. “The world knows her as the best hockey player in the world, but they don't know her as the best person in the world as well. 

“And I've been fortunate enough to see that but now for the world to see that too, it's pretty special.”

If Poulin has helped make Stacey a better hockey player, Stacey has assisted Poulin in living her most authentic life. 

And in a lot of ways, they have become bigger than the game.

Their late-September wedding at Le Peaches and Cream in Low, Que., is described by many of the 192 family members and friends who were in attendance as the perfect day. Poulin and Stacey both call it “the best day of their lives” — an epic celebration of life and love, the culmination of a relationship that began in 2017 when they locked eyes while swimming at a Team Canada event at Blue Mountain in southern Ontario.

Stacey had just competed in her first world championship, Poulin a decorated champion many times over. They were teammates, but they didn’t really know a lot about one another. 

“A few of us decided to go skinny dipping in the pool at 2 a.m.” Stacey says. “The two of us looked up into the sky at the same time and we saw a shooting star. Our eyes met and we asked each other if we just saw that. Nobody else in the pool saw it or knew what was going on but we saw it. For the rest of that night it was a weird feeling. I had a feeling.

“We always go back to that moment. Even in my wedding vows, that was the thing — that she was the wish I had always dreamed of and I didn’t realize it until now.”

Poulin, who’s happy to take a backseat to Stacey’s storytelling, jumps in. 

“You should have seen the skyline the weekend of our wedding. It was so bright and magical. Stars everywhere. I believe in those little signs,” she says.

It was an idyllic setting for the two to share their vows, with vibrant, fall-coloured trees, expansive fields of lush green grass and breathtaking sunsets surrounding a barn-like building. There was a fire pit too, and on the eve of the big day, all of their friends gathered around the flames, sharing stories, drinks and laughs. 

The crescendo came during the late-night dance party, when Poulin and Stacey had changed out of their stunning white dresses and into matching white pant suits, joyously leaping around to Celine Dion’s It's All Coming Back to Me Now.

With everyone surrounding them in a big circle, Poulin and Stacey jumped up and down, shouting, smiling. “Baby, baby, baby,” they sang, swept away in a moment that quickly went viral on social media.

It’s pretty remarkable considering Poulin and Stacey are the last of a generation that had to play on all-boys teams.

“I dreamed of playing for the Leafs because that’s all I knew. And that wasn’t possible but it’s the only thing I saw,” Stacey says. 

No longer. They are now what young girls see — Olympic champions as teammates in 2022, twice as world champions — and working toward a championship as linemates on the Montreal Victoire.

Before they were even in this position the two had to navigate free agency ahead of the new beginning for the PWHL.

All six teams were able to select three players ahead of the league’s inaugural player draft on Sept. 18, 2023. Hometown hero Poulin was always going to Montreal — that was never in question. But would her then-fiancee and national teammate also be part of that deal?

And that was just it. Poulin and Stacey made it very clear throughout the entire process they were not a package deal — and didn’t want to be considered one.

“It was really, really hard on me,” Stacey says. “I had conversations with all of the GMs and stated that I'm only coming or only want to be drafted by you if you actually want me as a person and a player.

“Obviously there's always those thoughts that go through your head that they're only taking me or they're only asking me to sign early because they want her.”

Stacey even considered skipping free agency just so that she’d be part of a draft and not have to endure being favoured because she was Poulin’s partner. 

“We did have those hard conversations, the two of us sitting here and seeing what was going to happen,” Poulin says. “There was no package deal. And that was something that we take a lot of pride in. I'm myself, she's herself.”

Enter Montreal Victoire general manager Danièle Sauvageau. She’s been part of women’s hockey for decades and was head coach when Canada’s women won gold at the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics. 

Sauvageau was deliberate in making sure Stacey and Poulin were treated like two separate players, with separate conversations with each.

“For me it was important that the choice was made individually,” Sauvageau says. “Is she going to think we value her because of the context of her private life? We had to ask that question. I wanted to do the exercise to show her that wasn’t the reason. I wanted to sign her.”

Sauvageau says their decision to pick Poulin and goalie Ann-Renée Desbiens was easy, but choosing their third and final free agent was a process. They had a five-player wishlist. Stacey was on that list — and they weren’t going to roll the dice on missing out on her. 

“When you look at Stacey the last two or three years — the best line of Team Canada — she never gives up," Sauvageau says. “She brings a lot of energy. She’s a student of the game.

“We just didn’t want to lose her.”

Inside their home there’s a warmth and vulnerability the two share. But at the rink, it couldn’t be more different. Home is family. The rink is work.

“You're not going to see us fight or argue. We know it's business and we know we're going to get the best out of each other,” Poulin says. “When we train, we do our work. It's not about us being lovey dovey. It's us getting better, making people around us better.”

They have had to figure out how to give each other constructive criticism and feedback after their games — it’s still a work in progress.

“The first couple of games it was like, how do we do this?” Stacey says. “Do we just talk about it in the car? And then when we get home it's over? And I don't think that worked that well because I know for myself I just can't get over things that quickly.” 

“So we did a lot of detours on the way home,” Poulin says, and they both laugh.

“We just kept driving. We just kept driving,” Stacey says.

~

Jill Saulnier, their teammate at the Beijing Olympics who plays for the New York Sirens, has been practising with the pair in Montreal ahead of the new PWHL season. During an unrelenting two-hour practice on a Thursday morning at the historic Verdun Auditorium, which is the training facility for Montreal, Saulnier is doggedly keeping up with her two best friends in dryland training and on the ice. 

“They come to the rink. They’re married. It’s our job and it’s all business for them,” Saulnier says. “They’re able to separate the craziness.”

“I’ve known both of them for 15 years and they were wonderful individuals when I met them and they’re even more wonderful together. I feel that’s such a testament to a powerful relationship."

Erin Ambrose has also played alongside the two of them for years on the national team — and is getting ready to be their teammate on La Victoire for a second season. 

“As their teammate and friend, if there’s ever been an issue you’d never know it,” Ambrose says. “It’s heartwarming to see two people lift each other up and genuinely two of the best people you could have in your life.”

Caroline Ouellette knows perhaps better than anyone how tricky it can be to find a balance between being in love and playing the game you love.

She won four Olympic gold medals and a handful of world championship titles with Team Canada between 1999 and 2018, victories that came at the expense of her American partner and now wife, Julie Chu, who starred for Team USA.

For Ouellette it was a question of legitimacy. She was scarred from the coverage at the 1998 Nagano Olympics when women’s hockey made its debut. She still vividly recalls a newspaper highlighting the sexual orientation of the women playing at those Olympics.

“It was front page in Quebec — a sexual orientation that makes people talk — that’s what it was about. The whole article was about maybe there being relationships on the team, maybe with the coach and players. It was so hurtful and negative to the game,” she says. “It was shocking and disappointing.

“It silenced me for years. I took the approach that it wasn’t going to overshadow the performance on the ice.”

For Ouelette it was less about people knowing her and Chu were together and more about keeping the focus on the talent on the ice. 

“For me, I still felt I could be myself and be who I was with Julie. I think a lot of the media knew we were together and I’m grateful they didn’t make it something,” Ouellette says. 

A lot changed for Ouellette and Chu in 2017 when they celebrated the birth of their daughter, Liv. For Ouelette, it was because there was no hiding anymore. 

“We won the Clarkson Cup in 2017 with Liv in my belly. I thought that this was the coolest thing ever and I wanted to win that Cup so badly because I wanted to say we won with too many players on the ice,” she says with a laugh.

Ouellette was ready to share all the parts of her life and fully understands this place Stacey and Poulin have arrived at. 

“They complete each other,” she says.

All of this almost never happened.

Six years ago Poulin’s and Stacey’s relationship was on again, off again as they, like many young couples, struggled with the decision of whether they wanted to be together. Poulin had just returned from the 2018 Olympics in Pyeongchang and was devastated after losing to the Americans in the final. She says it was one of the darkest points of her life. 

“I felt like I let the entire country down,” she remembers. “I was one of the leaders. You take everything on your shoulders. I didn't want to see anybody and I was just really on my own.”

She sat in that sadness for weeks, but the Humboldt Broncos bus crash in April 2018, when 16 members of a junior hockey organization were killed, shook her to her core.

“You see parents losing their kids, kids losing their parents. I'm here in my bed and people lost their lives and I'm going to cry over a silver medal?” Poulin says. “That moment switched my perspective. That silver medal probably made me way better. It taught me that when there's hard moments, you get back up.”

That fall, Poulin and Stacey were playing on separate teams in the CWHL, the precursor to the NWHL, Poulin a member of Les Canadiennes and Stacey with the Markham Thunder. 

“There was a lot. This is complicated. She was in Montreal. I was in Toronto. We were national teammates. We just stopped talking. I was not talking to her. I was good and ready to move on,” Stacey says. 

Poulin wasn’t.

On Oct. 20, they found themselves lined up on opposite ends of the rink. Poulin’s Montreal team beat Stacey’s Thunder 5-1, and in a bold move, Poulin followed Stacey’s team bus back to her hotel after the game.

Poulin sent a text, imploring her to come out to her car to talk.

“She was serious,” Stacey says. “I didn’t know what to tell my roommate. I lied and said I needed to go see my family or something like that.”

Poulin finally convinced her to go for dinner, and the two now use that day as their anniversary. 

And while there are many more championships the pair want to collect, they’re also starting to think about what could be next.

That’s where Arlo has picked up the assist.

“Ifwe have a bad practice or bad game, when we come home Arlo does not care. He's going to love us till the very end. And what's not to love about him?” Stacey says. “I think that's just opened our eyes to having a family and growing our family.”

“We've talked about having kids as part of our next project. We love kids. We have friends with kids and we love it. And honestly, it will be the next project for sure,” Poulin says.

There’s a practical part of that conversation — that one of them would have to take a backseat, at least for a bit, to their athletic career.

“And it's going to be interesting for us — two female athletes navigating how to have kids, when to have kids. It's definitely going to take some thought, some planning because it is brand new to us and it's brand new to a lot of people too,” Stacey says. 

[xx-dinah-writing-xx]

The Wig Mishap

Matt Smith x reader

The Targaryen wig was a source of endless frustration for Matt. Every day, the meticulous wig crew spent what felt like ages getting it just right, adjusting the pale platinum strands to make him look like the brooding prince he played. But by midday, the itching would set in. He’d pull at it slightly between takes, muttering about how this wig was “the bane of his existence.”

Y/N found his irritation endearing, watching as he struggled to keep his patience intact, the long white locks a stark contrast to his usual look. It was just a wig, yet she couldn’t help but find it absurdly attractive. The blond gave him an intense, almost ethereal look, adding an edge to his character that made her heart skip a beat.

One day, Matt caught her staring a little too intently. “What?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as he ruffled the wig to relieve the itch.

Y/N bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Nothing… It’s just… you look way too good with that wig. Makes you look so… princely.”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “You think so? Because all I feel is itchy and slightly ridiculous.”

“Well, maybe I find itchy and slightly ridiculous attractive,” she teased, leaning in with a smirk.

Matt rolled his eyes, but there was a glint of amusement—and maybe even a hint of pride. “You better like it because I have to wear this thing for hours,” he joked, “and now I have an image to uphold.”

She leaned closer, running her hand through the blond strands. “I can’t say I mind. You look annoyingly hot with it.”

His lips twisted into a smirk, his eyes darkening. “Good to know. Guess I’ll just have to embrace my Targaryen allure then,” he said, the teasing edge in his voice undeniable.

He leaned in close, and with a playful gleam in his eyes, muttered, “I’ll keep the wig on for you later, then.”

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Pancake Disasters (Steve Harrington)

Summary: Steve tries to make you feel better by making pancakes for dinner.

Warnings: Fluff

WC: 381

Read on Ao3!

--

The sound of crashing dishes from the kitchen was followed by a loud curse. You winced, setting down the book you'd been half-heartedly reading and padding toward the source of the commotion.

"Steve?" you called, stepping into the chaotic scene. The once-pristine kitchen was now an explosion of flour, eggs, and a slightly burnt aroma.

Steve Harrington stood in the middle of it, apron askew, hair a bigger mess than usual, holding a mixing bowl in one hand and a whisk in the other. He looked at you, sheepish, with flour streaked across his cheek.

"I... was trying to make pancakes," he admitted, his voice laced with defeat. "For you."

Your heart softened at the sight. "Steve, it’s ten at night. Pancakes are a morning thing."

"Well, yeah, but I figured... I don’t know. You’ve had a rough week, and I wanted to do something nice." His words tumbled out, his usual confidence faltering under your gaze.

Stepping closer, you reached out to brush the flour from his cheek, your fingers lingering for a moment. His eyes searched yours, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said softly, gesturing to the disaster around you.

"I know," he murmured, setting the bowl down on the counter. His hands found your waist, pulling you a little closer. "But I wanted to. Because... you’re the most important person in my life. And I don’t say that enough."

Your breath caught, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around your heart like a warm embrace.

"Steve," you whispered, your hands coming to rest on his chest. "You mean that?"

He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "More than anything."

Leaning up, you kissed him, slow and tender, tasting the faint hint of maple syrup from his earlier attempt at cooking. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but laugh softly at the fond look in his eyes.

“Okay, Harrington,” you said, giving him a playful nudge. “Let’s salvage these pancakes. Together.”

He grinned, his confidence restored. “Deal. But only if I get to be the taste-tester.”

With a laugh, you set to work, side by side in the messy kitchen, the chaos around you fading in the warmth of the moment.

[brujamala-aka-gigi]

‧ა sagittarius season tarot readings ໒ ‧₊˚

november 22 - december 21

.☘︎ ݁˖. 𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒔 ་༘࿐

These tarot readings are meant to give you some information about how the energy of this season is going to affect you. Sagittarius season usually comes with a big burst of energy, specially channeled in matters that relate deeply to the slightly more childlike side of our intellect. This season usually comes with an enhancement of curiosity, the need to explore and expand our horizons, but also the energy to do so. Let's check what are the positives and the negatives of this season for each sign.

don't forget to check your moon and rising signs' posts just in case

dividers by @adornedwithlight & @cafekitsune, images by Kira Cyan

.‧͙˚ *༓ scroll down for the readings ⋆ִ ‧͙⁺˚

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ ko-fi page

 .࿔˚˖𓍢ִ໋`･𝚃𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚞𝚜 {𝙰𝚙𝚛𝟸𝟶–𝙼𝚊𝚢𝟸𝟶} ♉︎

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ✦ 𝐊𝐍𝚰𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 ✦ 𝐅𝚰𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

It's very likely you begin searching for philosophical and intellectual stimulation from the people around you, or being drawn to new people who seem to provide this. There are going to be plenty of quite meaningful and valuable conversations happening, this season will be full of key learning moments, not exactly in the traditional or structured way, but more so in the way in which you learn by making mistakes or having new experiences. You will get the pieces and tools you feel as if you’re missing from your life, and you will also become more confident in skills you already possess. People around you are slightly aware of a subtle nervous energy you have whenever life moves too fast, so they are very likely to come and help. But, your anxiety this season won’t be completely negative, as you have enough motivation to work around it in order to move on.

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

Somehow, you feel obligated to act on your impulses, which is not entirely comfortable since you are better at doing things consistently over longer periods of time instead of relying on random bursts of energy and inspiration. I don’t think these are bad as they will provide you with opportunities to expand your horizons and gain new perspectives to add into your comfort zones. At this moment you might be hesitant to fully embrace the deeper existential or spiritual development implications your actions are able to communicate, but at some point later you will realize the impressive amount of growth you’ve gone through.

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

Don’t get over fixated on self perceived flaws or actual flaws that are being taken out of proportion by yourself or by your environment. There’s plenty of amazing things going on for you and yet you’re not ready to see them, because you might think you are not ready to be responsible for them or deserving of them. During this season you might feel compelled to look for fulfillment outside of your usual lifestyle, and it’s very likely these experiences bring new gratitude and new mindsets that will allow you to find new value in many things that seem too mundane or are just not as exciting or pleasurable right now. The same will happen with the things you feel you are lacking, you might get them only to realize that you didn't actually need them or didn't actually want them in the first place.

₊⁺⋆.˚ 𝚅𝚒𝚛𝚐𝚘 {𝙰𝚞𝚐𝟸𝟹–𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝟸𝟸}♍︎

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 ✦ 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ✦ 𝐒𝚰𝐗 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

This season will definitely feel like you are going through one of the most chaotic moment’s of your life. It might feel as if everyone around you is moving in the most unpredictable and severe ways possible, nobody is being chill about anything and this sort of impulsive or overly dramatic energy is going to take a toll on your social battery. It is very likely you will have to take some time off and renew your energy more often. Also, I think you are going to be able to test your limits, and test who actually understands those limits. You are going to face many situations in which what might seem spontaneous is actually the explosion of something repressed or postponed. Please be mindful of your own energy, you are also going to see some abrupt changes like most people on this season, but don’t feel like they have to take you too far out of what you already know works best for your peace of mind.

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

When you are faced with conflictive situations or any sort of confrontation, be mindful of other people being sort of intellectually dishonest with their arguments and the facts they present. There’s a lot of badly calculated moves that are going to be easy to spot when you remove yourself from the situation and take a deep look at it. Also there's going to be a lot of people being overly confident to compensate for what they’re lacking, or straight up bragging about achievements or success that it’s not completely a reflection of actual skill or knowledge. Don’t let them get to you, and don’t let them convince you this is the game you have to play.

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

Okay so, this season is going to be messy in every possible way, but you are actually quite good at fixing other people’s mistakes anyways. The season will leave you with a well deserved feeling of pride, and set you up to end the year in a way that feels triumphant. I get the feeling you are really giving yourself the closure you deserve in regards to plenty of things that have happened this year, and it's very likely you will succeed. Just don’t get overly attached to the good feelings that come with letting things go and cutting things out, you are someone who definitely needs a challenge from time to time. These moment’s of order and peacefulness are not meant for you to stay comfortable forever, you’d get bored, these moments are meant to re-evaluate your mental strength and to give you time and energy to focus on the challenges that are far more fulfilling to face. 

°❀⋆.ೃ 𝙲𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚗 {𝙳𝚎𝚌 𝟸𝟸–𝙹𝚊𝚗𝟷𝟿} ♑︎

𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ✦ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

You are almost at the right place, mentally and emotionally, to embrace deeper connections with the people who are already close to you, but also still feel like you haven’t entirely come off your shelf yet. And hey, totally understandable to be a little bit more private, but  at this point you know what the redflags are, you know when you see them and you know when you don’t. Allow your guard to be a little bit down if you don’t see the redflags, even if what you see is not exactly matching your expectations to their full extent. Allow others to take care of you when you need help. I think you are too overworked and stressed right now to see that good things will come your way as long as your patient, and as long as you recover from any kind of burn out.

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

If you don’t take some time off to chill, reflect, recover, the same things that caused the exhaustion will come back. During this season it might be tempting to overwork your psyche and try to fix everything that went wrong during this year, don’t. It's very likely you will struggle with over rationalizing your feelings and it could lead you to unhealthy thoughts, and an unhealthy relationship with your emotions. This moment is going to be extremely difficult to navigate, you won’t feel comfortable in your own nature, and emotional distress will get to you if you don’t take some time to yourself and to enjoy with people who bring the best out of you.

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

I think you are a little bit stressed about how you feel as if nobody seems to completely get you, or what you are going through or what you want from life. You might encounter feelings of disappointment that are reinforced by grief over the moment’s where you felt the hope of someone actually making you feel understood and valued.  In this season you will come to the realizations that are going to allow the healing you need and the confidence to know where are the places in which you are safe and who are the people worth keeping in your life. At this time, it is necessary that you are capable of using your intuition to balance things out in your life, without trying to micro manage everything about it, trust in the natural order of things, embrace it and work around it. 

masterpost ✶ pac readings ✶ ko-fi page

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[drdemonprince]

also not the anon, but I’ve been reckoning with similar things with my mom. I knew she had a fucked up relationship with me (luckily I’m not the only one who saw it, my siblings know it was fucked up too). She talked about sex a lot and would bring up masturbation and toys and shit, also with the parentification (which she did to all of us) and she also showered me with the golden boy shit, to the point of telling my other siblings that I was her favorite.

I’ve been reading Trauma and Recovery and a part early in the book really blew me away when it mentioned how traumatic memory can show up in dreams. I’ve repeatedly had this same intrusive dream (best way I can describe it, as it shows up in regular dreams sometimes) of my mom naked and being seductive but not letting me touch her. Given I’ve had the exact same fragment of a dream a bunch of times, I’ve very recently decided to embrace that shit probably happens to in some sort when I was very young.

I doubt anyone at the time would clock any of this as covert incest, it was just my mom. She was a teacher and would tell me all sorts of shit about kids in my class and general shit that I just shouldn’t know. I looked up to her so much until once day something just clicked in my brain and I felt decades of revulsion all at once

There’s such deep shame I’ve had buried in all of this and I hope the other people dealing working through the same shit in your inbox know that they aren’t alone and didn’t bring this on themselves. The biggest thing I’ve been trying to work through is not feeling like I am the corrupted one. This shit feels like a stain sometimes but I promise it gets better

Thank you so much Anon for sharing this. And given we've been talking about doing a dream interpretation streaming event sometime soon, it's oddly fitting that this would come up. I'm so sorry this shit happened to you, but glad you've found some insight into it. Shadowy not-memories are SO hard to deal with. I have several of them. I've determined that for me, they reflect an emotional truth rather than a biographical one -- I will likely never know the exact events that inspired these visions that I have (and started having while I was still a child), but I know they signal that I was sexually violated and emotionally preyed upon and that's enough.

[dissapointu]

what about reader comes home with an entirely different hair colour (for arcane characters) 💛💛

This is such a fun idea! This is how each character would react if the reader came home with a completely new hair color:

————————————————————————

Jinx

Jinx would flip when she sees you walk through the door with a new hair color. She’d be so hyper about it, her eyes wide with excitement as she zooms over to inspect your hair, her mind racing with a thousand chaotic thoughts.

“What is this?! This is amazing!!” Jinx would say, bouncing around you in circles. “You look like a whole new person, and I love it! What do we call this color? I need it for one of my bombs!”

She’d spend the next few hours trying to match your new hair color to all her gadgets, constantly admiring you with a gleeful grin. “I’m jealous! Look at you! This is gonna drive everyone crazy!”

Vi

Vi would blink in surprise when she first sees you, not sure if she’s seeing things. She’d run a hand through her own hair and chuckle, making her way toward you.

“Whoa, that’s… bold. I like it though. You look good, real good,” she’d say, stepping closer to get a better look. “Makes you look even fiercer. But, uh, how’s the new color feel? You feel different?”

Vi would be all about how confident you are in your new look. She might even ask if she can try it out for fun next time, because she’s feeling inspired by your boldness.

Sevika

Sevika would give you a slow, assessing look when you walk in. She wouldn’t be the type to show too much excitement, but there’s a clear flicker of approval in her eyes.

“You always look good,” she’d say, her voice low but full of admiration. “But I’ll admit, that’s a bit unexpected. I like it. Definitely makes a statement.”

Sevika would then casually run a hand through her own hair and add, “Just make sure you don’t draw too much attention. People might get the wrong idea.” But underneath that protective edge, she’d secretly love how you stand out.

Silco

Silco is all about control, so when he sees your new hair, his first instinct is to process the change. He might pause, his gaze scanning you with that sharp, intense focus. After a beat, he’d give you a small, approving nod.

“Bold choice,” he’d say, his tone smooth. “I do enjoy someone who isn’t afraid to stand out.”

He’d approach you, placing a hand on your shoulder, and murmur, “Just make sure it doesn’t draw unnecessary attention. But with you… I trust it’s all part of your plan.” Silco would be fascinated by how much confidence you exude with your new look.

Vander

Vander would blink a couple of times, surprised by the drastic change. But after a few moments, his face would break into a soft smile, his heart swelling with pride.

“You’re always beautiful, no matter the color,” he’d say gently, stepping closer to admire you. “But I’ve gotta admit, this is a change I wasn’t expecting. Looks like you’re embracing your individuality.”

Vander would reach out and brush a strand of your new hair behind your ear, clearly fond of how you embrace your own unique style.

Ekko

Ekko would be caught off guard at first, eyes widening when he sees you walk in with an entirely different hair color. Then he’d break into an awed smile, his usual cool demeanor slipping for a second.

“Whoa, you look like you just stepped out of a dream!” he’d exclaim, stepping closer to you. “Seriously, how’d you pull that off? You look amazing!”

Ekko would spend the next few minutes asking you about the process and maybe even trying to figure out how he could pull off a new look too. “I gotta admit, you look even more like a legend now. How do you keep doing this?”

Jayce

Jayce might not be overly emotional about it at first, but the moment he sees your new hair color, his eyes brighten with admiration.

“That’s… different. But in a good way!” Jayce would say, his voice full of genuine curiosity. “You pull it off really well. Makes you stand out even more. You were already striking, but now?”

He’d take a step closer, maybe even run a hand through your hair, and add, “Definitely suits you. You’re always full of surprises.”

Viktor

Viktor would tilt his head in curiosity when he first sees you, clearly intrigued by the change. He’s used to seeing things in a different light, so this new look would be something that fascinates him.

“An interesting choice, but you wear it well,” Viktor would say, adjusting his glasses. “It suits your personality—bold, unconventional… yet undeniably you.”

Viktor would be a bit shy about touching your hair, but he’d eventually run his fingers through it, intrigued by the softness and the new feel. “I’d love to study how you’re able to make such a striking change with ease. You’ve always been captivating.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would smile warmly when she sees you with your new hair color. She would love how bold you are in expressing yourself, and she’d find herself admiring you even more.

“I think it looks perfect on you,” she’d say, reaching out to touch a strand of your hair. “It’s not the color that makes you stunning, it’s your confidence. But this color? It just adds to your already unique beauty.”

Caitlyn would definitely want to show you off to others, completely unafraid of how people might stare. She’d be proud to be with someone so brave and unapologetically themselves.

Mel Medarda

Mel would be intrigued and impressed by your new look. She values elegance and power, and she can immediately see how this new hair color is a reflection of your strength.

“It suits you,” she’d say, her voice cool but sincere. “It’s a striking choice. I must admit, I didn’t expect this from you, but it works.”

Mel would be the type to get up close, fingers gently brushing through your hair as she admires the way it complements your features. “No matter what color it is, you will always stand out. That’s one thing I admire about you.”

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa would take one look at you and nod with approval, clearly impressed by your boldness. She doesn’t show much surprise but is clearly fond of how you’re unafraid to push boundaries.

“You’ve got a way of making any change look like it’s meant to be,” Ambessa would say, crossing her arms and surveying you with a calculated gaze. “I see the power in this choice. It suits you.”

She’d be less overtly affectionate, but she’d definitely respect the confidence you exude with your new look. Ambessa would also see it as another sign of your strength.

Maddie Nolen

Maddie would gasp in delight when she first sees you, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “That’s… it’s so you!” she’d say, grinning as she walks over to you. “It’s like you were made for this color.”

She’d give you a big hug, absolutely thrilled about your bold choice. “Honestly, I couldn’t imagine you with anything else now! You look amazing!”

Maddie would be the type to gush over your hair, constantly asking to touch it and comment on how perfect it looks on you. She’s just so in awe of your confidence and beauty.

Lest

Lest wouldn’t be the type to make a big deal out of it, but she’d immediately notice the change and give you a slow, appreciative nod.

“You’re a woman of mystery, aren’t you?” Lest would smirk, her tone playful. “It suits you. I like how you make everything look effortless.”

She’d get up close, lightly brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. “No matter what you do, you always manage to catch my attention. You look even more stunning now.”

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Genuine question, as someone who has characters of my own: how do I get over my embarrassment for having OC’s? I’d never make fun of someone for having them, but whenever it comes across my dash (especially if it’s ship art) I can’t help but… (for lack of a better word), cringe. I love people being creative but it feels like I can’t get over the backlash against things like that.

It's something you have to unlearn, and that's not always easy. I think as a whole, most fandoms are not OC friendly unless it's something like a videogame in which you create the main character from scratch. Most people will stick to already established characters, because that's easy to write. Very few are brave enough to make their own story.

Firstly, l'm going to discuss comics, this is a world of many worlds. DC as example has so many universes, and there's no way I could name them all. I think many of them are numbered, and fans who create their own usually make a numbered or named verse. Like, Codotverse! (if Codot can put his whole voice out there, you can do it too, btw)

Personally, I think the open ended-ness of comic worlds is a positive for fandom. It makes it so anyone can tell a story and despite it being fannon, it's really no less canon than what's in between the pages. Comic writers themselves can't get things straight half the time, heck I've been known to nit pick comics because they forget some fact about Jonathan that SHOULD be well known.

Now, lets talk OCs. The fact is, and this probably sounds mean, people would rather read about Scarecrow or Riddler then -insert Hench character for shipping here-

The reason is as stated above, it's easier to get into. They know what to expect. And unless this OC is someone you've been talking about for years and they have curated their own mini fandom within the fandom, most ARE gonna scroll by. That's sad, I know.

BUT that doesn't mean you should quit or be embarrassed about an OC. People can come to love them, but this usually takes effort and dedication on your part. You are the one and only author and content creator of this OC. Nobody else is gonna make content for them without insensitive. That means you gotta talk talk talk, and draw draw draw, then write write write. MAKE them care. People can very easily come to love and OC,. and i know this for a fact because I used to have my own and I always got asks, people wanted to draw them, or write stories, etc.

The thing is, you gotta embrace being potentiality embarrassing. If you don't take a step forward and put yourself out there, who will? This sounds very internal for you, and it's literally something that is taught to the youngins of fandom very quickly. Fandom, as a whole (think big here) will squash or despise anything that isn't palatable. And what is palatable? that changes often. Usually, fandom is a progressive space but that doesn't mean each and every sect doesn't have issues. Big issues that are spread between a lot of fandoms include misogyny and fetishization. This is why you sometimes see creators and fandom goers attacking canon female love interests and OCs. This is also why you see a huge influx of men being shipped together and any mention of either man loving or having a relationship with a woman is often erased. These two things go hand in hand quiiiite a lot actually. Just, a thing to watch out for and think critically about.

In the end, it boils down to making your audience care amongst a sea of easy to read and already palatable content. You gotta swim against the current. Make a space for yourself, provide something that doesn't exist yet. (for me, it was hi res comic scans)

Basically, don't let the haters win.

[megs-98]

i had to shower without music so naturally i spent the entire time thinking about what the datv companion/rook bathrooms would look like

i'm gonna add my thoughts under the cut but everything will be sfw, there's just going to be a lot of rambling cause i will be talking about every companion and my rook. also i haven't finished the game yet so some thoughts are definitely incomplete

now i don't know if the fade would generate bathrooms for each character or if this place that can seemingly produce anything would just plop down a communal bathhouse. but i like to think the caretaker would make sure each person has a personalized ensuite. i also think that these bath areas would change as you get farther along in that companion's quest, similar to how harding's room gets more and more plants in it as you do her quest.

like

harding, for example, would her shower start off as a waterfall cascading off of rocks. symbolizing her love and appreciation of her ancestors and then by the time you finish her quest would there be a massive leaf coming from the rock side causing the water to cascade down? similar to the giant flower coming from her ceiling, tying in her love of plants

or with davrin. at the start, would he just have a pond? of questionable water? cause those wardens are roughin it for sure. but then as he and assan find their turlum, the water clears and rock walls form so assan can jump into the water from different heights? giving both davirn and emmrich a heart attack cause we know manfred would want to give it a try

would neve have a small area with basically just a bowl of water, a bar of soap, and a cloth? essentially only giving herself a bird bath cause she has leads to follow up on.. but as she continues through her quest and knows she has people to count on and is not alone in the world so she, for lack of a better word, grants herself time to enjoy a relaxing moment bathing, so an actual bathtub with nice soaps and soft towels appear. it doesn't need to be elaborate, she still enjoys things that are practical and get the job done

bellara's could go one of two ways in my head; either her shower would be more akin to rain falling through the tree canopy. or would it start as a small waterfall feeding into a stream. not sure how it would improve on itself from there though. maybe the foresty area comes more and more to life maybe having a calmed relic or two

taash, i think taash's would start as something more qunari centered, but as they learn more about themselves !and especially if rook encourages them to embrace their riviani culture! it would turn into a desert oasis and is just their small patch of paradise to enjoy however they choose to

emmrich i think his would be a practical bathroom but with a flair. i honestly haven't finished his questline yet but i know he's secure with himself and knows what he likes. so of course it would have all his creature comforts, maybe even have a box or something that would warm up his robe for him

lucanis would have a rather grandiose bathroom. he is used to the finer things in life and has an appreciation for style. he would have all the latest items popular with antivans, but he would prefer a small flow of water coming from the ceiling. could you imagine how broody he'd be in the shower, and it would probably cold too so he doesn't fall asleep. but then as he and spite are able to work together, he feels more comfortable to sit in a warm bath, appreciating how relaxing it can be, especially with a good glass of wine, hopefully even spite enjoying it to whatever extend he's able too

now for rook. my main rook is crow!rook, named yaryna (goes by yary) hers would definitely be practical but still have her favorite items. she's knowledgeable about plants, she is a poisoner after all, so she'd have eucalyptus hanging from the walls, some aloe vera, maybe an orchid or two. just a decent amount of high humidity plants, a *mirrorless* vanity table where she keeps her skin/hair care and makeup. and as she progresses through the story, finding more confidence in herself, a mirror would appear. her area wouldn't necessarily turn better, but she'd appreciate what she has, what she has always had, seeing the importance in "average" things, just as she does with herself.

[thedevilrisen]

Imagine

You stood by the window, fingers wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. Fat raindrops raced each other down the glass in uneven trails. The patter of rain against the glass created a soothing rhythm, you always loved days like this—the world outside slowed down and the storm wrapped it in its peaceful embrace.

Behind you, Jack sat cross legged on the living room floor, a mess of puzzle pieces scattered around in front of him. “You know,” he said without a glance in your direction, “If you keep staring at the rain like that it might start staring back.”

You sighed deeply and turned back to him, watching the way his tongue poked out as he fiddled with the puzzle pieces. “You’ve been working on that thing for weeks, at this rate the rain is likely to stop before you finish it.”

Jack grinned, his hand wrapping around your calf as he kissed the side of your knee gently. “Help me then, silly. We will be faster together.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t resist sitting down. Together, you searched for matching edges, fingers occasionally brushing as you passed pieces back and forth. The simple of of working together filled the room with warmth that even the dreary weather couldn’t dispel.

At one point, Jack picked up a piece and held it in front of your face with a devilish grin. “This one is obviously the sky. How could you miss it?”

You mockingly glared at Jack. “I was leaving it for you. Thought you might have needed a win today.”

He laughed at this, the sound echoing throughout the cozy space. “Wow. Kind and condescending, your the whole package.”

As you continued, the storm outside grew ever fiercer, but inside, your laughter softened the edges.

Later that evening, after the last puzzle piece clicked into place, you leaned back and sighed contentedly. “There’s something special about rainy days, isn’t there.”

Jack looked at you, expression thoughtful. “I think the special bit is having someone to share it with.”

You smiled, heart full. How could this day get any better?

[informaltorching]

writing about Vesper's mental illness and so forth has been a tad bit releasing for me.

i have a lot about him really acting out in very ugly ways. and it is nice to be sort of real about it. when, like, yeah, he is an ~angsty sad boy who didn't wanna be a vampire stereotype~ that a lot of people call boring. but he hasnt been sitting in a corner, begging people to pity him.

because there are more symptoms than sadness. there is irritability and mood swings and addiction and lashing out and all the guilt to drown in afterward... he has done a lot of shitty things and is angry with himself over them both pre and post embrace.

and then this is all the stuff that creates that more stoic, avoidant personality over time. he is defeated by himself and those around him.. he is afraid of letting people in because he has hurt people before and absolutely will again. and he has abandoned his real chances at what could have been some type of normal and happy because he has felt others deserve better than him. hence him having a very unhealthy attraction towards characters that don't necessarily treat him the best (you have no clue how many people think it is weird he feels inclined to forgive and be around people that have mistreated him lmao...)

but yeah, Vesper does have depression... among other things...

[arcane-ish]

The Pros and Cons of killing Warwick

Let me start off with:

Why I personally don't care for it

I think it's silly that a character defined by his healing factor dies. I like the spooky idea of a scary mindless Warwick roaming the streets and caves of Zaun. Vander losing his humanity and memories seems like a dark, ironic and tragic ending enough. Because we already saw him die in season 1, have him as a potential cliffhanger death in s2act2, to have him gave another "this time for realsies" death seems more like diminishing returns to me rather than "zomg, the parallels and the symmetry". To me it sounds kinda tacky.

I also feel like season 2 didn't really succeed that much in establishing Vander as his own character as opposed to just an accessory for Jinx and Vi (ie the point of his flashback is just to double down his long and deep his parental relationship with them runs), which to me takes away some of the heft of his death.

The reasons why it seems likely

Warwick isn't one of the main pretty people characters the way Caitlyn, Vi, Jinx, Jayce and Viktor are. (From a pure business POV we know that monster champions are less popular and sell fewer skins) That alone makes him a more likely candidate.

Symmetry, parallels and themes

The show arguably kicked into "omg, this is serious" gear when Vander died. And season 1 ended on Silco's death, another father figure. So one can argue that Warwick dying is a parallel to that.

There is also the persistent theme in Arcane that maybe keeping people alive after their death isn't great (ie Singed/Orianna, Viktor telling Jayce he was supposed to die) and that you need to let go of the past.

Another aspect is that Vander's story is about becoming a monster and that Vander tried to resist violence (while Silco embraced it). So one can assume that Vander hates what he has become.

Vander is also defined heavily by his status as a parent so him sacrificing himself to protect Jinx or Vi seems fitting (sacrifice being another theme in s2).

There's also the aspect of what he represents in Vi and Jinx's story. That maybe they have to overcome him or as they become adults and become self reliant it's okay for him to leave the story. Or that he has "done his job" by bringing the sisters together.

The symbolism of it all

One thing that likely isn't intended, but, if we presume that Vi will join Caitlyn in Piltover (rather than Cait moving to Zaun or both staying on their side and meeting in the middle, of I can't overlook the symbolism that the Wrath of Zaun has to be distinguished for that to happen.

Or that both leaders of the original revolution die, maybe coinciding with Piltover and Zaun forming an alliance.

Remember, in League Warwick is called the Uncaged Wrath of Zaun. So maybe the characters have to symbolically overcome Zaun's anger for the sake of a better tomorrow.

However

I know there likely just isn't airtime left in the remaining episodes, but you know what would imo would be an efficient way to make Vander's death more resonant? Give us a flashback between young Silco and Vander where they discuss strategy for example for the battle on the bridge and Vander says no, he doesn't want to turn into a monster. Driving home the tragedy of when he gets turned into a monster that has to be put down.