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elikajinnie · 18 hours ago
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Soulmarked Rivalry - Y.J
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P: Slytherin!Jungwon X Fem!Reader
Requested by @bamguetismee <3 (i hope i got ur vision :3)
Warnings: Teasing, Forced Proximity, Soulmarks/Soulmates, Hurt/Comfort, Tension, Rivalry, Fluff, Confessions, Jealousy, Soobin Cameo (love triangle??), Peeves being a menace.
Synopsis: As a model student and prefect, your future at Hogwarts seems set—but Yang Jungwon, a Slytherin prefect, likes getting under your skin. To make things more complicated, he's your soulmate. Should you embrace fate or resist?
a/n: HELLO?? 500 FOLLOWERS?? WAHH!! THANK YOU GUYSS! <3
masterlist
--
You had always worked hard as a student. That’s what the teachers at Hogwarts liked seeing—hardworking students with the ability to excel both in a team and on their own. And you fit perfectly. You were a model student with good marks, excellent control over your magic, and a natural ability to care for others, whether they were in your house or not. It wasn’t a surprise when you were named a prefect in your fifth year.
You carried that badge with pride. You loved being a prefect—patrolling the corridors, helping younger students, and upholding the rules that kept Hogwarts running. You loved Hogwarts, period.
Well, all except for one thing.
Yang Jungwon.
The Slytherin prefect who, despite his innocent face and disarmingly sweet smile, seemed to make it his life’s mission to drive you completely insane.
It wasn’t the usual kind of rivalry either. Sure, Slytherins clashed with other houses from time to time, but this wasn’t just about house pride. No, this was personal. It was in the way he smirked whenever he caught you on patrol, somehow managing to be just a little too late to help out when you were swamped with first-years who couldn’t find their common room. It was in the way he’d charm his way out of detentions, even when he’d been the one sneaking enchanted fireworks into the Great Hall during breakfast.
Worst of all, it was in the way he made you feel like you were the one always losing control, like you were the one who couldn’t keep your composure when he was around.
“You missed a spot,” he drawled one evening, leaning against the corridor wall as you adjusted the Ravenclaw notice board. His voice was light, teasing, like he had nothing better to do than stand there and watch you work. “Top corner. Might want to straighten it out before McGonagall sees it.”
You shot him a glare over your shoulder. “Don’t you have patrols to be on?”
He shrugged, the emerald trim of his robes catching the light. “I could say the same to you, Miss Perfect.”
Your jaw tightened. That nickname.
You turned back to the board, determined to ignore him, even as you felt the heat rising to your cheeks.
But of course, Jungwon didn’t leave. He never did.
Yang Jungwon had a way of getting under your skin like no one else could. He was frustratingly clever, sharp-tongued in a way that wasn’t outright cruel but always cut just enough to make you grit your teeth. It wasn’t what you’d expected from a Slytherin prefect. No, on paper, Jungwon was everything you were: a model student with stellar marks, impeccable spellwork, and a spotless disciplinary record.
And that’s what made him so infuriating.
Because no matter how much he teased, no matter how many snarky remarks he threw your way, Jungwon had an uncanny ability to slip through the cracks of authority unscathed. He always masked his mischief with that disarming smile, that soft-spoken charm that even the professors fell for.
“Honestly, Professor Flitwick,” he’d say with wide, innocent eyes after you’d caught him charming the suits of armor to sing off-key Christmas carols in the corridors, “I was just practicing for the Yule Ball choir audition. I had no idea they’d move on their own!”
And Flitwick, much to your disbelief, had waved it off as “creative magic.” Creative magic!
But when it came to you, he didn’t even bother to pretend.
Take the time he’d enchanted a batch of parchment birds to follow you around the library, each one whispering “Miss Perfect” in soft, sing-song voices. You’d stormed over to him in the Potions section, where he sat with his feet casually propped up on the table, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Seriously, Jungwon?” you hissed, holding up one of the parchment birds, which was now fluttering around your head like an annoyingly persistent fly.
He’d looked up from his book with that infuriatingly serene smile. “Oh? Are they bothering you? I must’ve used the wrong spell. They were supposed to cheer you up.”
“They’re driving me insane,” you snapped.
“Well, that’s not very cheerful of them,” he mused, flicking his wand with a practiced ease that made the birds disappear. Then, without missing a beat, he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. “But I’ll admit, it’s kind of cute how flustered you get when you’re mad.”
Your face burned at that, and you’d stomped away, leaving him chuckling softly behind you.
And yet, despite his constant antics, you couldn’t really catch him doing anything blatantly wrong. That was his specialty. His mischief always danced just on the edge of trouble—never enough to get him punished, but always enough to make you want to hex that smirk off his face.
Like during joint prefect meetings. While you were diligently taking notes on the patrol schedules, he’d lean just a little too close, peering over your parchment.
“Wow, your handwriting is so neat,” he’d whisper, just loud enough to catch your attention. “Did you learn calligraphy in secret? Or is this just natural talent?”
“Jungwon, do you mind?” you’d mutter, trying to shift your parchment out of his view.
“Not at all,” he’d reply, his tone maddeningly light. “In fact, I think I’ll start sitting next to you every meeting. You’re so good at organizing things—it’s inspiring.”
You’d glare at him, but he’d only give you a saccharine smile before turning his attention back to the meeting, his quill poised as if he’d been paying rapt attention the entire time.
It was moments like these that made you want to scream. How could someone so irritating also be so annoyingly good at everything? How could he act like he had all the time in the world to bother you and still keep up his reputation as one of the best students in the school?
But perhaps the most frustrating part wasn’t the teasing itself. It was the way he always seemed to know just how to get under your skin, just how to push you to the edge of losing your cool. And no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, Jungwon always found a way to make sure you noticed him.
So why, out of all the people in the world, did he have to be your soulmate?
When you first got your soulmark, a delicate little outline of a cat, you’d been ecstatic. A cat felt dignified, graceful—everything you imagined your soulmate would be. You’d hoped for someone respectable, someone who would balance your ambitious nature and match your unwavering dedication. Someone… well, not Jungwon.
But no. Of course, your soulmate had to be the one person who spent more time ruffling your feathers than anyone else.
You discovered the truth entirely by accident, during an otherwise routine Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson in your sixth year. The professor had asked everyone to practice conjuring a patronus, and when Jungwon stepped forward to demonstrate, a sleek, silver cat had leapt from the tip of his wand.
Your stomach had dropped. Your quill slipped from your fingers.
It didn’t take much to put two and two together. How else could you explain the way your heart raced every time he got too close to you? Or the way your pulse quickened whenever his teasing voice whispered in your ear? You’d always chalked it up to frustration, but now you weren’t so sure.
You hadn’t realized you were staring until Jungwon caught your eye, that damn smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “What?” he’d asked, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “Impressed?”
You’d quickly snapped your head down, pretending to write something in your notebook. “Hardly,” you muttered, but your shaky grip on your quill betrayed you.
After that, you went out of your way to keep your distance from him whenever patronuses came up in class. You’d never cast yours in front of him, and you planned to keep it that way. The last thing you wanted was for him to connect the dots—your dots.
Because if Jungwon found out? If he knew that every teasing remark, every sly grin, every infuriatingly perfect move he made was destined to tug at the invisible string that tied your souls together? You were certain you’d never hear the end of it.
You could already imagine the smug grin on his face.
“Oh, Miss Perfect,” he’d drawl. “I always knew you had a soft spot for me.”
No. That would not happen. As far as you were concerned, he could live his life blissfully unaware. And you’d do the same, no matter how much it gnawed at you to keep the secret.
At least this way, you could hold onto the tiny shred of dignity you had left. Even if that dignity felt a little more fragile every time he leaned in close, his voice a low hum in your ear, and your heart betrayed you all over again.
For months, you buried the truth deep down, pretending like the invisible string between you and Jungwon didn’t exist. You carried on with your duties as a prefect, kept your head high, and worked tirelessly to ignore the way your heart betrayed you whenever he was near.
But it was getting harder.
He was everywhere. Patrols, prefect meetings, the library, even the hallways—you couldn’t escape him. It was like fate itself was conspiring to push you together. And the worst part? He wasn’t making it any easier with his constant teasing.
Like the time he caught you nodding off during a late-night patrol. It had been a long day, and you were leaning against a cold stone wall in the fourth-floor corridor, struggling to keep your eyes open.
“Falling asleep on the job, Miss Perfect?” His voice came out of nowhere, soft and playful, making you jolt upright.
You glared at him, cheeks burning. “I wasn’t sleeping.”
“Sure you weren’t.” He stepped closer, his emerald tie slightly askew, his expression amused. “If you need a break, I could always cover for you. I mean, I am the more capable prefect.”
You scoffed. “Capable? Says the one who nearly let Peeves set off an entire box of Dungbombs in the Great Hall last week.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin tugging at his lips. “Touché. But in my defense, Peeves likes me better than you.”
“Because you encourage him,” you shot back, crossing your arms.
Jungwon just chuckled, leaning against the wall beside you. His shoulder brushed yours, and you tensed at the sudden proximity. It was a casual touch, nothing out of the ordinary, but it sent your heart racing all the same.
“Relax,” he murmured, his tone softer now. “You work too hard, you know.”
And there it was again—the part of him that left you confused. The Jungwon who teased you relentlessly, but then turned around and said things like that, catching you completely off guard.
You didn’t respond, afraid your voice might crack. Instead, you stepped away, mumbling something about needing to finish your patrol. But as you walked off, you swore you could feel his gaze lingering on you, like he knew something you didn’t.
You descended the staircase as quickly as you could without breaking into a run, your heart pounding harder with every step. It wasn’t just from the way his gaze lingered or the softness in his voice—it was the growing fear that maybe he did know something you didn’t.
You tried to push the thought away, shaking your head as you patrolled the quiet corridors. The castle was calm tonight, the flickering torches casting long shadows on the walls. It was peaceful, the perfect atmosphere to collect your thoughts and shove down the gnawing feelings Jungwon always seemed to drag to the surface.
But of course, peace didn’t last long when it came to him.
“Hey, wait up!” His voice echoed down the corridor, and you inwardly groaned.
You stopped, turning slowly as Jungwon jogged to catch up with you, his prefect badge glinting in the dim light. His hair was slightly messy from the wind on the Astronomy Tower, but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, he looked downright smug, like chasing you down had been his plan all along.
“What do you want, Jungwon?” you asked, crossing your arms in an attempt to seem unaffected.
He came to a stop in front of you, hands in his pockets as he tilted his head. “What’s with the rush? We’re on the same patrol route, you know.”
“I prefer working alone,” you replied curtly, turning to walk away again.
But he sidestepped, blocking your path with an infuriatingly easy grin. “That’s no way to treat your partner, Miss Perfect. We’re supposed to be a team.”
“Team?” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes. “Last time we worked as a ‘team,’ you disappeared halfway through and left me to deal with Peeves in the trophy room.”
He laughed, the sound low and warm, and it sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “That’s because you’re better at dealing with him. He listens to you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” you snapped, pushing past him. “He threw a whole stack of awards at my head.”
“Well, you’re still alive,” Jungwon called after you, his teasing tone making your blood boil. “So I’d say you handled it pretty well.”
You didn’t dignify him with a response, instead quickening your pace down the corridor. But Jungwon, being Jungwon, didn’t take the hint. He fell into step beside you, his hands still casually tucked into his robe pockets as if this was all some leisurely stroll.
“Why do you always run away?” he asked suddenly, his voice quieter now.
You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat. Slowly, you turned to face him, finding his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.
“You know what I’m talking about.” He stepped closer, and you hated the way your body instinctively leaned back against the wall as if you needed the extra support. “Every time I get too close—every time we talk like this—you find an excuse to leave.”
“That’s because you’re annoying,” you said quickly, but even to your own ears, it sounded weak.
His lips quirked into a small, almost triumphant smile. “Am I? Or is it something else?”
Your throat felt dry, and you didn’t trust yourself to speak. He was too close now, close enough that you could see the faint freckles dusted across his nose, close enough to catch the light scent of parchment and peppermint on him.
“Why do you care?” you finally managed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.
For a moment, he didn’t respond, his eyes searching yours as if trying to unearth a secret you didn’t want to give away. Then, he took a step back, his expression shifting to something softer, something almost vulnerable.
“Because I think there’s something you’re not telling me,” he said quietly.
You opened your mouth, but no words came. Because he was right, and you hated it. You hated that he could read you so easily, hated the way he seemed to see through every wall you put up around yourself.
But most of all, you hated that part of you didn’t want to keep running anymore.
“Goodnight, Jungwon,” you said finally, your voice steadier than you felt. Then, before he could say anything else, you turned on your heel and walked away, this time determined not to look back.
--
It started as a simple enough task: cleaning up the mess left behind by a pair of second-year Ravenclaws who had apparently thought it would be a brilliant idea to practice Summoning Charms in the Trophy Room. Broken glass, scattered awards, and stray parchments were strewn everywhere, and the professor who caught them had, of course, decided that this was a job for the prefects.
“Character-building,” Professor McGonagall had said. “It’ll teach you both responsibility.”
Both? At the time, you hadn’t asked who the “both” referred to, foolishly assuming you’d be able to handle it alone. After all, you preferred it that way. The less you had to deal with anyone—especially him—the better.
You arrived at the Trophy Room late in the evening, wand in hand, ready to sort out the chaos quickly and efficiently. The room was silent except for the faint rustle of the enchanted banners overhead. For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax. No distractions, no interruptions. Just you and the task at hand.
Or so you thought.
“You know,” came a familiar voice from behind you, smooth and laced with amusement, “you’d think they’d give us a thank-you note for cleaning up after them.”
You froze, your wand nearly slipping from your fingers. Turning slowly, you found Jungwon leaning casually against the doorframe, his prefect badge glinting in the torchlight. His tie was slightly loosened, his hair tousled in that infuriatingly perfect way that made it seem like he hadn’t even tried.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, unable to keep the irritation out of your voice.
“Same thing you are,” he replied, pushing off the doorframe and strolling into the room like he owned it. “Apparently, the professors think I’m responsible enough to help clean up messes now. Who knew?”
“Great,” you muttered under your breath, turning back to the mess in front of you. “Just don’t get in my way.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Perfect,” he said, his tone dripping with mock sincerity. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You ignored him, focusing on the task at hand. With a flick of your wand, you began repairing a shattered glass case, the shards floating back into place with a soft ping. But of course, Jungwon wasn’t content to let you work in peace.
“You missed a spot,” he said, pointing to a stray shard on the floor.
“I see it,” you snapped, flicking your wand again to send the shard to its rightful place.
“You’re welcome,” he said with a grin, crouching down to pick up a fallen plaque. As he straightened, he tilted his head, examining the inscription. “Huh. ‘Most Promising First-Year, 1983.’ Wonder what they did to earn that.”
“Why do you care?” you asked, not bothering to look at him.
“I don’t,” he replied, placing the plaque back on its stand. “But if I have to be here, I might as well make conversation.”
“Well, don’t. I’m busy.”
“Oh, I can see that.” He leaned against one of the display cases, watching you with a lazy smirk. “You’re very good at this, by the way. It’s almost like you’ve done it before.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to focus on a particularly stubborn spell that refused to reattach a decorative plate to its stand. “If you’re not going to help, at least stay quiet.”
“But where’s the fun in that?” He stepped closer, just enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence beside you. “Come on, Miss Perfect, lighten up. It’s just the Trophy Room. It’s not like we’re scrubbing cauldrons in the dungeons.”
You ignored him, muttering the spell under your breath again. The plate finally clicked into place, and you let out a small sigh of relief. But before you could move on to the next task, Jungwon reached over, plucking a stray ribbon from the pile of debris.
“Do you think this would suit me?” he asked, holding it up to his chest with a mock-serious expression.
You glanced at him, exasperated. “It’s a participation ribbon for a broomstick-polishing contest.”
“So?” He pinned it to his robes with a flourish. “I think it adds character.”
You couldn’t help it—a small laugh escaped you before you could stop it. The moment you realized what you’d done, you quickly turned away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
But of course, he had.
“Was that a laugh?” he asked, his tone triumphant. “Did I just get the oh-so-serious prefect to crack a smile?”
“No,” you said quickly, focusing on another broken display case. “You’re imagining things.”
“Oh, I don’t think so.” He stepped closer again, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “You know, if you let yourself relax more often, you might actually enjoy my company.”
You turned to glare at him, only to find that he was much closer than you’d realized. Close enough that you could see the faint sparkle in his dark eyes, the way his smirk softened into something almost genuine.
“Highly unlikely,” you said, your voice quieter now.
Jungwon tilted his head, studying you like he was trying to figure out a particularly tricky potion. “You know,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “you’re kind of fun to mess with.”
“Glad I can be your entertainment,” you muttered, stepping back to put some much-needed distance between you.
But as you turned away, you couldn’t help but feel his gaze lingering on you again, that same unsettling mix of mischief and something deeper that always left your heart racing.
The worst part? You weren’t entirely sure you hated it.
You busied yourself with repairing another shattered trophy case, desperately trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. Jungwon always knew exactly how to push your buttons, and worse, he seemed to enjoy it.
As you flicked your wand, mumbling an incantation to reattach the intricate golden handles to the glass case, you could still feel his presence behind you. Not doing anything—just standing there, watching you.
“Are you just going to stand there, or are you actually going to help?” you snapped, not bothering to look over your shoulder.
“Oh, I’m helping,” he said, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
You turned, narrowing your eyes at him. “Really? How, exactly?”
Jungwon held up a dusty trophy he’d picked off the floor. “Moral support.” He grinned, wiping the plaque halfheartedly with the sleeve of his robe. “You’re doing great, by the way. Truly inspiring.”
“Unbelievable,” you muttered, turning back to your work.
But before you could even begin the next spell, Jungwon’s voice interrupted again.
“Hey, you’ve got a little…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely to your face.
You frowned, brushing your cheek self-consciously. “What?”
“Here.” He stepped closer—too close—and reached out, his fingers brushing the side of your face. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. His touch was light, barely there, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you.
“There,” he said softly, pulling his hand back to reveal a speck of dust on his fingertips. “Got it.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. He was looking at you now, his teasing smile replaced with something softer, something that made your breath catch.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you blurted, taking a step back to put some distance between you.
“Like what?” he asked, his voice low, almost curious.
“Like—like that!” You waved your hand vaguely, refusing to meet his eyes. “Like you’re… plotting something.”
His smile returned, softer this time but no less infuriating. “Who says I’m plotting anything?”
“Because you’re always plotting something,” you shot back, turning away from him and focusing on the pile of broken trophies again. “It’s practically your personality.”
“Harsh,” he said with a mock wince, though his tone was still playful. “You wound me, Miss Perfect.”
You rolled your eyes, determined to ignore him as you began repairing the next trophy. But Jungwon wasn’t done.
“You know,” he said after a moment, his voice taking on that familiar teasing lilt, “for someone who claims to hate me, you sure spend a lot of time thinking about me.”
Your wand slipped, sending a crack straight through the trophy you were trying to fix. You cursed under your breath, quickly repairing the damage before whirling around to face him.
“I don’t think about you,” you said firmly, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.
“Really?” Jungwon leaned casually against the nearest display case, his arms crossed as he regarded you with that maddeningly smug expression. “Because you’re looking a little flustered right now.”
“I’m not flustered,” you snapped, crossing your arms defensively.
He stepped closer again, his grin widening as he leaned in, just enough to make your breath hitch. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you said quickly, though your voice came out shakier than you’d intended.
For a moment, neither of you moved. His dark eyes were locked on yours, and for once, there was no teasing glint in them—just an intensity that made your stomach flip.
“Jungwon,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “You’re standing too close.”
He tilted his head, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Am I?”
“Yes,” you said again, though you made no move to step away.
For a brief, terrifying moment, you thought he might say something—something that would shatter the delicate balance between you. But instead, he stepped back, the teasing smile returning to his face like nothing had happened.
“Alright, alright,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll give you some space.”
You exhaled, not realizing until that moment that you’d been holding your breath.
“Good,” you muttered, turning back to the trophies.
"Do you think the founders ever argued over who got the biggest house common room?" Jungwon asked as you muttered a spell to repair another shattered trophy.
You sighed, not even glancing at him. "I don’t know. Maybe."
He hummed thoughtfully, as though your answer was the most profound thing he’d ever heard. "Do you think Salazar Slytherin was the type to hog all the butterbeer at parties?"
You flicked your wand sharply, fixing another display case. "Probably."
"And what about Godric Gryffindor? I bet he couldn’t resist showing off in duels."
"Sounds likely," you replied curtly, focusing on levitating a stack of plaques back into their proper places.
Jungwon leaned casually against a nearby display, his hands in his pockets, watching you with barely contained amusement. "Alright, last one—do you think Helga Hufflepuff secretly kept a stash of snacks in her robes?"
At that, you paused, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. "Definitely," you said, surprising yourself with a small smile.
Jungwon grinned like he’d won a prize, clearly pleased that he’d managed to drag more than a one-word answer out of you. "See? I knew you had a sense of humor buried under all that seriousness."
You rolled your eyes, quickly turning your attention back to the mess. The sooner you finished, the sooner you could get out of here and away from him. The room felt warmer than it should have, in a way that made it hard to breathe. You could feel Jungwon’s presence behind you, close enough that your skin tingled, your soulmark on your arm warming pleasantly every time he leaned just a little too close.
You tried to ignore it, brushing the feeling aside as nothing more than nerves, but it was impossible. It was suffocating and exhilarating all at once, and you hated how much it affected you.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you placed the last trophy back in its case and lowered your wand.
“There. Done,” you said, your voice tight.
“Impressive work, Miss Perfect,” Jungwon said, clapping his hands lightly. “You really are a perfectionist.”
Ignoring him, you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, desperate to escape before the room—and him—got the better of you.
But just as you reached the threshold, Jungwon’s voice stopped you.
“Leaving so soon?” he called, his tone laced with amusement. “I was starting to enjoy our little bonding session.”
You didn’t turn around, gripping the strap of your bag tightly. "We’re done here. Go bother someone else, Jungwon."
You stepped out into the corridor, the cool air a welcome relief against your flushed skin. But even as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the lingering warmth on your arm, the way your soulmark had come alive just from being near him.
You hated it.
And yet, deep down, you knew it wasn’t hate at all.
The cool air of the corridor did little to ease the warmth in your chest. You tightened your grip on the strap of your bag, walking briskly to put as much distance between yourself and Jungwon as possible.
“Hey!” a familiar voice called from further down the hall. You looked up to see your Slytherin friend, Minji, striding toward you. Her dark robes swished behind her, and her usual confident smirk lit up her face. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. What happened?”
You sighed, falling into step beside her as she turned to walk with you. “Trophy Room duty. With Jungwon.”
Her eyebrows shot up, and she gave you a knowing grin. “Ah, the infamous Yang Jungwon. What did he do this time?”
“Same as always,” you muttered, your tone clipped. “Teased me, asked a million pointless questions, and stood way too close for comfort.”
Minji laughed, the sound echoing softly in the empty hallway. “Well, that sounds about right. He’s got that whole charming nuisance thing down to an art.”
You shot her a glare, but it lacked any real bite. “It’s not charming. It’s infuriating.”
“Sure, sure,” Minji said, waving her hand dismissively. “But you’re still blushing.”
You froze mid-step, your hand flying to your face. “I am not!”
“You so are,” she said with a smug grin, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Come on, just admit it—he gets under your skin, doesn’t he?”
You groaned, resuming your pace and trying to ignore the warmth creeping back into your cheeks. “That’s not the same thing as liking him.”
“Hmm,” Minji hummed, her smirk widening. “If you say so.”
The two of you turned a corner, the dimly lit hallway now empty except for the faint flicker of torches on the walls. Minji glanced at you, her expression softening slightly. “But seriously, are you okay? You seem… tense.”
You hesitated, your fingers brushing over the strap of your bag. “It’s just—being around him is exhausting. He’s so... persistent. And—and the way he looks at me sometimes—”
You cut yourself off, realizing you’d said too much.
Minji stopped walking, grabbing your arm to make you face her. “Wait. What way does he look at you?”
You shook your head quickly, trying to dismiss it. “Forget I said that. It’s nothing.”
“Oh no, no, no.” Minji’s eyes sparkled with mischief now. “You’re telling me that Jungwon—Jungwon—might actually like you? This just keeps getting better.”
You felt your stomach twist at her words, a mix of denial and something far more complicated. “He doesn’t like me,” you said firmly, though your voice faltered slightly. “He just likes messing with me.”
“Uh-huh,” Minji said, clearly unconvinced. “And what about you? Do you like him?”
“No!” you said quickly, too quickly.
Minji raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Why am I even friends with you?”
“Because I’m the only one who’s brave enough to call you out on your nonsense,” she said with a grin, pulling your hands away from your face. “Listen, if you ask me—which, by the way, you should—I think you and Jungwon would be kind of perfect together.”
Your heart skipped a beat at her words, but you shook your head furiously. “Not happening. Ever.”
“Alright, alright,” Minji said, holding up her hands in surrender. “But for the record, if he ever stops teasing you, you’ll know you’re in trouble.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.
The days that followed were nothing short of exhausting. It had become a routine of sorts—this competition between you and Jungwon to see who could outshine the other as a prefect. Both of you were model students, but being better than him was a point of pride you weren’t willing to give up.
Unfortunately, Jungwon seemed to have the exact same idea.
“Let’s see who finishes the patrol of the East Wing faster tonight,” Jungwon said casually one evening, walking just a step ahead of you as the two of you began your rounds.
You glared at the back of his head. “It’s not a race, Jungwon. The goal is to thoroughly patrol the area, not sprint through it like a Quidditch match.”
He turned his head slightly, flashing you that insufferable smirk. “Oh, but you’re just saying that because you know I’d win.”
You scoffed, quickening your pace to walk beside him. “You wouldn’t win. You’d probably miss half the patrol spots because you’re too busy smirking at yourself in the reflection of the windows.”
Jungwon placed a hand over his chest, feigning hurt. “You wound me. But, for the record, I don’t smirk at myself. I save those exclusively for you.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and turned your face away to hide it. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, ignoring the way your soulmark tingled faintly at his words.
“Ridiculous, but efficient,” he countered, his tone light and teasing. “Unlike some people, I don’t waste time lecturing first-years about being out past curfew. I just send them back to their dorms and call it a night.”
“That’s because you let them off too easy,” you shot back, stopping to peer into an empty classroom. “A good prefect sets an example. You’re supposed to be teaching them, not coddling them.”
“And you’re supposed to be having fun,” Jungwon replied, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Merlin forbid you loosen up for five seconds.”
You gave him a withering glare, but it only seemed to fuel his amusement. He pushed off the doorframe and strolled past you, hands in his pockets, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Tell you what,” he said over his shoulder. “I’ll handle the rest of this hallway. You can take the next one. We’ll see who finds more troublemakers by the end of the night.”
“Fine,” you said sharply, determined to beat him. “But don’t go cutting corners like you always do.”
Jungwon turned back to you with an exaggerated look of shock. “Cut corners? Me? Never.”
You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath as he sauntered away.
The rest of the night passed in much the same way—him teasing you, you firing back with sharp retorts, and both of you secretly trying to outdo the other in your duties. By the time patrol ended, you were both walking back to the common areas, still exchanging jabs.
“So, how many rule-breakers did you catch tonight?” Jungwon asked, his tone casual but his smirk betraying his competitive streak.
“Three,” you said smugly. “And you?”
“Four,” he replied, his grin widening when you scowled.
“Liar,” you accused, narrowing your eyes at him.
Jungwon gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Miss Perfect. Are you saying I’d lie about something so serious?”
“Yes,” you said flatly, though you couldn’t stop the corners of your mouth from twitching upward.
“Well, believe what you want,” he said with a shrug, walking ahead of you toward the main staircase. “But next time, maybe you’ll think twice before underestimating me.”
You watched him go, shaking your head in exasperation. No matter how infuriating he was, there was a strange comfort in the back-and-forth banter between you. It was almost... fun, in its own twisted way.
But as you turned to head toward your dormitory, you caught yourself smiling and quickly wiped it off your face. Jungwon didn’t need to know that, for all his teasing and smug remarks, he made your prefect duties just a little less tedious—and a lot more complicated.
--
The air in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was cool, the steady drone of the professor’s voice filling the room as they explained the intricacies of Dementors. You should have been paying attention, but the lesson was one you had mastered ages ago. Instead, your thoughts wandered, your quill idly twirling between your fingers as you gazed out the window.
That was until a small folded piece of parchment fluttered directly in front of your face. You blinked in surprise, catching it before it fell onto your desk. Frowning, you carefully unfolded it, unsure of what to expect.
Inside was a drawing—a portrait of you. The lines were soft, delicate, and surprisingly skilled. It captured you in a way that made your breath hitch for a moment. You looked… pretty.
Your cheeks warmed as you glanced around the room, searching for the culprit. Your eyes landed on a tall Gryffindor boy sitting a few desks away. His face turned bright red the moment your eyes met his, and he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on his notes.
You couldn’t help but smile, a small, amused laugh escaping your lips.
When class ended and everyone began filing out, you gathered your things and stepped into the corridor. Before you could get far, a voice called out behind you.
“Uh, excuse me?”
You turned to see the same Gryffindor boy standing there, his hands nervously clutching the strap of his bag. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with soft eyes and a shy smile that revealed dimples.
“Yes?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.
He cleared his throat, his face still tinged with embarrassment. “I, um, I was wondering if—if you don’t have any more classes today—maybe you’d like to study together? In the library, I mean.”
He was cute—really cute. And as luck would have it, he was a prefect, too, which made him even more appealing in your eyes. His nervousness was endearing, and you found yourself smiling softly.
“Sure,” you said, much to his visible relief. “I don’t have any other classes.”
The two of you walked to the library together, falling into an easy conversation. He introduced himself as Choi Soobin, and you quickly discovered he was funny, charming, and incredibly sweet. By the time you reached the library, you were already at ease in his presence.
The two of you sat down at a quiet table near the back, pulling out your books and parchment. At first, you tried to focus on your work, but Soobin`s quiet jokes and playful commentary kept pulling your attention away. Before long, you were laughing softly, your hand covering your mouth to stifle the sound as Madam Pince shot you both a stern look.
Unbeknownst to you, someone else had entered the library.
Jungwon strolled in, his usual confident smirk on his face as he made his way to the front desk to offer Madam Pince some assistance. He had volunteered to help her organize the new shipments of books—a task he didn’t particularly enjoy but knew would score him some house points.
But as he approached the desk, a sound stopped him in his tracks.
A laugh.
His head turned instinctively toward the source, his gaze landing on you. You were sitting at a table near the back, your head tilted slightly as you giggled at something the Gryffindor boy across from you had said. Soobin.
Jungwon’s chest tightened at the sight.
The Gryffindor was leaning closer to you, his dimples on full display as he smiled down at you, clearly pleased to have made you laugh. And you—Jungwon had never seen you so at ease, so… radiant.
His grip on the stack of books in his hands tightened as an ugly, unfamiliar feeling began to bubble in his chest. Jealousy.
Why were you laughing like that with Soobin? Why were you sitting so close to him, looking at him with such bright, open eyes? Jungwon had seen that smile before, but it had never been directed at him. And the realization made something in him twist painfully.
He tore his gaze away, his happy demeanor now replaced with a sour expression. He tried to focus on the task at hand, stacking books onto shelves and sorting parchment, but his eyes kept wandering back to you.
Every time Soobin leaned closer, every time you laughed softly, it was like a needle pricking at his chest.
You were supposed to be bickering with him, not smiling at some dimply Gryffindor prefect.
And worse, you didn’t even notice him. For the first time, it felt like you were completely out of his orbit, and it made his jealousy burn even brighter.
By the time he finished his chores, he couldn’t take it anymore. He shot one last glare in Soobin`s direction—though the Gryffindor was oblivious—and left the library, the ugly green feeling sitting heavy in his chest.
As he stalked through the corridors, his thoughts raced. He didn’t know what was worse: the fact that he was jealous, or the fact that he had no idea what to do about it.
The days that followed were... different. Soobin, with his warm smile and easygoing demeanor, seemed to find every excuse to be around you. Whether it was walking with you between classes, sharing a table in the library, or even just stopping to chat in the halls, he was always there.
And to your surprise, you didn’t mind. He had a way of making you laugh without even trying, his gentle humor and wide-eyed innocence making it hard to resist smiling.
“Do you always study this much?” Soobin asked one evening, leaning slightly over your shoulder as the two of you sat in the library.
“It’s called being responsible,” you teased, not looking up from your parchment.
“Well, if responsibility looks this good on you, maybe I should try it,” he joked, his dimples flashing.
You rolled your eyes, biting back a grin. “Good luck with that.”
Moments like these had become the norm, and while you enjoyed his company, you couldn’t ignore the way Jungwon seemed to be watching your every move lately.
Every time you and Soobin crossed paths with him, Jungwon’s eyes would narrow, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. It was subtle—no one else seemed to notice—but you did. And you couldn’t ignore the way his usual smirk seemed to vanish whenever Soobin was around.
It didn’t help that Soobin, in his blissful obliviousness, seemed entirely focused on you.
“Do you think he’s going to explode one day?” Yuna, one of your closest friends, whispered to you during lunch, nodding subtly toward Jungwon, who was sitting a few tables away. His eyes were fixed on you and Soobin, his expression unreadable but intense.
You followed her gaze, your stomach flipping slightly when your eyes met Jungwon’s. He didn’t look away, and for a moment, it felt like he was daring you to do something—anything.
“He’s just... annoyed,” you muttered, breaking the eye contact and focusing back on your plate.
“Annoyed?” Yuna raised an eyebrow, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “That boy looks like he’s ready to hex Soobin into next week.”
You didn’t respond, mostly because you couldn’t deny it. Jungwon’s glares had grown sharper with each passing day, and it didn’t help that you’d somehow ended up with more patrols and prefect duties with Soobin lately.
At first, you’d chalked it up to coincidence, but now it was starting to feel deliberate. Maybe the professors had noticed how well you worked together, or maybe Soobin had requested it. Either way, it only seemed to worsen the already fragile balance between you and Jungwon.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed the way your soulmark had been acting up, either. The once-pleasant tingling had turned into an uncomfortable burn, a constant reminder of the growing rift between you and Jungwon.
It was ironic, really. For years, your “rivalry” with him had been the one constant in your life at Hogwarts. From the moment you’d both become prefects, it had been a steady back-and-forth of playful banter and one-upping each other. But now, things felt... different.
This was the first time since first year that you and Jungwon weren’t entirely in sync. And as much as you wanted to ignore it, to push down the guilt that came with the thought, it stung.
One evening, during yet another patrol with Soobin, you caught yourself lost in thought as he talked animatedly about something—a story about his younger siblings, if you remembered correctly. His voice was soft and warm, but it faded into the background as your mind wandered.
You couldn’t help but wonder what Jungwon was doing right now. Would he be patrolling the opposite side of the castle? Sitting in the common room with his friends, glaring at the fire in frustration?
“You okay?” Soobin’s voice pulled you back to the present, his kind eyes filled with concern.
You nodded quickly, offering him a small smile. “Yeah, just tired.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard,” he said gently, his concern only making your chest tighten.
You forced yourself to refocus, to push away the thoughts of Jungwon. But as you walked beside Soobin, his voice filling the quiet corridors, you couldn’t ignore the way your soulmark burned faintly against your skin, like it was trying to remind you of something you weren’t ready to face.
--
It had been an exhausting day. Between classes, your prefect duties, and Soobin’s persistent presence, you were feeling utterly drained. Tonight’s patrol was supposed to be simple—just a quick check of the corridors before returning to your common room.
But, as always, trouble had a way of finding you.
The moment you stepped into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, you knew something was off.
A group of younger students was gathered at the far end, laughing nervously and huddling close together. As you got closer, you noticed a faint shimmer in the air, followed by a creeping chill that made your skin prickle.
A Dementor.
Or rather, a Boggart pretending to be one, you realized quickly. But the younger students didn’t know that. Their faces were pale with fear, their breaths coming out in short gasps as they stumbled back against the cold stone wall.
Without thinking, you acted on instinct.
“Stay back!” you called to the students, pulling out your wand.
The Boggart shifted its attention to you, gliding forward with a slow, deliberate menace. Even knowing it wasn’t real, you felt a spike of unease as the air grew colder.
You raised your wand, your voice steady. “Expecto Patronum!”
A bright, silvery light burst forth from your wand, taking shape in the form of an animal. Its figure moved with an elegant agility, leaping forward and sending the Boggart scuttling back into the shadows. The students gasped in awe, their fear melting into relief as the warmth of your Patronus filled the room.
It wasn’t until the Boggart disappeared completely, retreating into a chest, that you realized you weren’t alone.
From the corner of your eye, you caught movement. Turning your head, your stomach dropped.
Jungwon stood at the entrance, his dark eyes wide and locked onto your Patronus. The silver light of the animal reflected in his gaze, his expression shifting from shock to something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place.
Your Patronus lingered for a moment longer before fading, its light dissolving into the cold air. The students quickly scrambled past Jungwon, murmuring their thanks as they made their way back to their dorms. But you barely noticed them leave.
It was just you and Jungwon now.
He didn’t say anything, but you could see it—the moment of realization dawning on his face. His eyes flicked to your arm, the same spot where your soulmark had always rested, hidden beneath your sleeve. And then, almost involuntarily, his hand moved to his own arm.
Right where his soulmark would be.
Your heart dropped into your stomach.
“Jungwon—” you started, but your voice caught in your throat.
He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like he was piecing everything together in real time. His hand remained pressed against his arm, his fingers curling slightly as if he could feel the truth burning beneath his skin.
“Your Patronus,” he said softly, his voice steady but quiet.
You swallowed hard, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s not—”
“It’s the same...." he interrupted, his tone carefully controlled, but you could see his jaw clench. “The same as my soulmark.”
Your breath hitched. You knew there was no use denying it—not when the evidence was staring him right in the face.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out in a rush. “It’s just a coincidence, Jungwon. That’s all.”
He let out a soft, humorless laugh, and when you finally looked up, you were startled by the look in his eyes. It wasn’t anger, like you expected. It wasn’t even annoyance.
It was hurt.
“A coincidence?” he repeated, his voice low. His hand finally dropped from his arm, hanging limply at his side. “You think a Patronus matching my soulmark is just a coincidence?”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. The burning sensation in your arm flared up, as if your soulmark itself was scolding you for trying to deny the truth.
Jungwon took another step closer, his gaze searching your face. “How long have you known?”
“Jungwon, I—”
“How long?” he pressed, his voice breaking slightly.
You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. There was no point in lying now. “Since last year,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
His jaw clenched, and he took a step back, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Last year,” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “You’ve known this whole time, and you didn’t think to tell me?”
“I didn’t know how!” you shot back, your voice rising despite yourself. “What was I supposed to say, Jungwon? ‘Hey, by the way, we’re soulmates’? You would have laughed in my face!”
He stared at you, his expression unreadable. “Is that what you think of me?”
“No,” you said quickly, the word rushing out before you could stop it. “No, I don’t think that. I just—” You let out a shaky breath, rubbing at your arm as if that would ease the burning sensation. “I didn’t want to ruin everything. We’ve been—whatever we are—for so long, and I didn’t want to mess that up.”
Jungwon was silent for a long moment, his gaze dropping to the ground. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, but no less firm.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said. “But lying to me—hiding this from me—it hurt. It hurts.”
Your throat tightened, guilt twisting in your chest.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you said quietly.
He looked up at you, his dark eyes filled with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite untangle. For the first time, he looked vulnerable, the walls he always kept so carefully in place beginning to crack.
“I don’t know what this means,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I think we owe it to ourselves to figure it out. Don’t you?”
You nodded, unable to trust your voice.
After that night in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, you found yourself plagued by questions and uncertainty. Jungwon’s quiet hurt echoed in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were standing on the edge of something you didn’t fully understand. Soulmates. The idea had always seemed so distant to you, something that other people talked about with a dreamy look in their eyes. But now that it was your reality, it felt different—complicated, messy, and, honestly, terrifying.
For the next few days, you threw yourself into researching everything you could about soulmates. You spent hours in the library, digging through old books and scrolls, hoping to find some concrete answers. You wanted to know more about the connection, the rules—or lack thereof—that came with having a soulmate. Was there a timeline to follow? Did you have to accept it? What did it mean for your future?
You also started asking your friends about their own experiences, although you were careful not to reveal too much. Yujin was the first to notice your sudden interest in the subject. You’d pulled her aside one evening, after class, and asked about her soulmark.
“Oh,” Yujin had said, glancing at you with a knowing smile, “it’s a small bird, right here.” She pointed to her wrist. “It was weird at first, but once we met, everything just clicked. It was like a weight lifted off my shoulders. My soulmate’s a Hufflepuff, actually.”
You nodded thoughtfully, trying to hide the way your heart twisted at the thought of your own situation. “And do you feel different? I mean, with him?”
She hesitated, then smiled softly. “Yeah. It’s like we’ve known each other for ages. I don’t know how to explain it, but you just know.”
You didn’t ask more, knowing you couldn’t handle hearing too much about the ease with which others seemed to fall into their soulmate connections. You wanted to learn, but you weren’t ready to hear about how it all just worked for others.
The next day, you sought out Jeongin, hoping for a more analytical approach. You had always admired how level-headed he was, and you figured he’d give you a more logical perspective. After all, he’d been pretty matter-of-fact about everything, including his own soulmark.
“I don’t think it means anything special,” he said, leaning back against the wall in the common room. “It’s just a way of knowing who’s yours. You’re connected in ways you can’t explain, but don’t overthink it. It’s not some kind of fate that’s pulling you together. It’s more like... a bond, I guess.”
You nodded again, relieved that he seemed to have a more grounded view of the connection. But something in his words unsettled you. “So, it’s not destiny?”
Jeongin chuckled. “Not for me. Maybe it`s just destiny for someone.”
His words sent a jolt through you, and you quickly brushed off the discomfort with a half-laugh. “I’m not sure I believe in destiny,” you muttered, hoping he wouldn’t pry further.
He gave you a long, measuring look but didn’t push. “Well, whatever it is, you’ve got to figure it out, yeah?”
You agreed, even though you weren’t entirely sure how to figure it out.
Meanwhile, your interactions with Soobin had taken on a new complexity. He seemed determined to win your attention, constantly seeking ways to make you smile, to make you laugh. He was sweet and caring in his own way, and you couldn’t deny that you liked being around him. But every time he called you “cute” or flashed that charming grin of his, something in you tightened—because you knew Jungwon was still watching, and you could feel the way his gaze lingered on you from across the room.
You had decided to keep the soulmate connection to yourself, at least for now. You didn’t want to hurt Soobin, especially when he seemed so genuinely happy to be with you. You liked him, you really did. But something about Jungwon’s presence, the pull between the two of you, was undeniable. You couldn’t ignore it any longer, even if you tried.
Jungwon, however, didn’t seem to share your same restraint. You noticed him more and more—his gaze following you and Soobin whenever the two of you were talking. His posture was stiff, his mouth set in a firm line whenever Soobin made you laugh, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly when you exchanged playful glances.
It wasn’t until one afternoon in the courtyard, when Soobin had made another attempt to charm you with one of his witty remarks, that you saw it.
Jungwon was standing near the entrance to the courtyard, watching the two of you from a distance. His jaw was clenched, and his gaze was dark. You felt a flicker of unease. You’d always known there was a rivalry between you and Jungwon, but this was insane.
When Soobin noticed your hesitation, he smiled brightly and nudged you playfully. “What’s wrong? Did I say something weird?”
You shook your head quickly, forcing a smile. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m just... distracted.”
“By Jungwon?” he teased, his eyes glancing over your shoulder. “You know, he doesn’t look too happy with us.”
You followed his gaze and found Jungwon standing there, looking like he was about to storm off. His eyes flicked to you and Soobin, then quickly away, but not before you saw that flicker of something—you weren’t sure what it was. But it didn’t look friendly.
Your heart skipped a beat as you turned back to Soobin. “Maybe we should head inside,” you suggested, trying to ignore the discomfort gnawing at you.
“Sure,” Soobin agreed, still oblivious to the tension you could feel. “Let’s go study, yeah?”
Studying with Soobin in the library was, for the most part, uneventful. He was focused, eager to discuss theories and share notes. But despite his attempts to make the session lively, your attention kept drifting, pulled by something you couldn’t explain. Every few minutes, you found yourself glancing up from your textbook, only to find Jungwon walking past your table again.
It was subtle at first. A quick, casual stroll down the aisle between the shelves, as if he were simply helping Madam Pince organize some books. But as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly obvious that he was lingering near your corner. His footsteps were quieter now, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, even when he didn’t look directly at you.
Soobin, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy scribbling notes on his parchment, talking about a spell he’d just learned in class. But you could feel the heat creeping up your neck, a strange tension building in the space between you and Jungwon, even though you were doing your best to ignore it.
"Do you think I should try this spell in the next class?" Soobin asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I feel like it could be fun, don’t you?"
You blinked, forcing your focus back onto him. "Uh, yeah. I think you’ll do great with it. You’ve got the precision down."
But even as you spoke, your gaze drifted over to Jungwon again. This time, he was standing just a few feet away, pretending to adjust a stack of books on the shelf directly across from your table. You could feel his presence, his eyes lingering on you from the corner of your vision. His movements were slow, deliberate, and each time he walked past, he seemed to be just a bit too close for comfort.
Your stomach tightened, and your heart started to race, the familiar unease creeping up again. You couldn’t help it. The bond that had ignited between you and Jungwon—the one you had been trying to ignore, to push down—was becoming harder and harder to control.
Soobin, oblivious to your inner turmoil, continued speaking. "I was thinking we could practice it in the courtyard later today. Maybe you could come with me? You know, as my study partner."
Before you could respond, Jungwon’s figure appeared again, now walking past your table on the far side of the library. He glanced in your direction as he passed, and for a split second, your eyes locked. It was brief, but you could see the flicker of something in his gaze—something that made your chest tighten. His eyes dropped quickly, and without another word, he kept walking, the sound of his boots echoing faintly on the stone floors.
You felt the burn of your soulmark pulse against your skin.
Soobin didn’t seem to notice the shift in the air, his voice continuing without interruption. "What do you think? Should I go ahead and try the spell? I mean, I know we’ve got a lot to study, but—"
"Yeah," you interrupted, trying to shake off the lingering unease. "That sounds great. But, uh... I think I’m done for today. I’ve got some stuff to take care of."
You closed your textbook with a soft snap, feeling the sudden urge to leave. You stood up quickly, gathering your things, but before you could say goodbye, Soobin was looking at you with a puzzled expression.
"Already?" he asked. "I thought we were doing great."
"Yeah," you said, offering him a strained smile. "But I really do need to go. I’ll, uh... catch up with you later."
Soobin nodded, his dimples showing as he smiled. "Alright. I’ll see you later, then. Maybe we can talk more about that spell."
You quickly walked away, making your way toward the exit of the library. But as you passed through the aisles, you could feel it—the subtle shift in the air as Jungwon followed behind, his presence heavy and undeniable.
You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. But your heart was pounding, and as you exited the library, you heard his footsteps fall into sync behind you. He was following you.
When you stepped into the hallway, trying to calm your thoughts. Before you could even think to react, a hand gripped your wrist, pulling you gently but firmly into a small, dimly lit room just off the main corridor. The door clicked shut behind you, and you found yourself pressed against the cold stone wall, with no clear way out.
Your breath hitched, and you instinctively looked down, avoiding the sharp intensity of Jungwon’s gaze. The silence between you both hung heavy, almost suffocating. You could hear the faint beat of your own heart, louder in your ears than the soft rustling of his clothes as he moved closer.
“Look at me,” Jungwon’s voice cut through the silence, low and demanding.
You hesitated, a part of you afraid of what you might see in his eyes. Slowly, you lifted your gaze, finding his face inches from yours. His dark eyes searched your expression, his jaw tense as if he was trying to contain something—something he didn’t know how to put into words.
“You’re avoiding me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why?”
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words press down on you. Your mind raced, but the only thing you could focus on was the distance that had grown between you two lately. Not just physically, but emotionally. “I’m not avoiding you,” you replied quietly, but the words didn’t sound convincing, even to yourself.
“Yes, you are,” Jungwon said, stepping closer, his proximity making your pulse spike. “I see it in the way you look at me now. The way you look away when I’m near.” His hand hovered near your face, but he didn’t touch you—not yet. “You’ve been different ever since you’ve been spending so much time with Soobin.”
Your chest tightened at the mention of his name, and for a moment, you looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I didn’t—” You stopped yourself. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, or worse, make it clear how much it hurt to see Jungwon’s jealousy, to see how much it bothered him that you were spending time with Soobin.
Jungwon wasn’t having any of it. “You didn’t think it would affect me?” His voice was firm, but there was something in it—an edge, a vulnerability you hadn’t heard before. “You didn’t think I’d notice?”
You felt a knot twist in your stomach. “Jungwon, I don’t—"
“Don’t lie to me,” he cut in sharply, his eyes intense. “I can’t stand it. I can’t stand you pretending like this isn’t happening.”
His words hit you like a wave, and suddenly everything you’d been trying to keep bottled up came rushing to the surface. Your chest was tight, and the burning sensation from your soulmark flared again, reminding you of the connection that you could no longer ignore.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, finally finding the courage to speak the truth. Your voice shook slightly, but you pushed through. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but it’s not easy, Jungwon. It’s not easy to just… admit that everything is changing. That we’re changing.”
He stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening slightly. But even as his gaze softened, the intensity never quite left his eyes. “You think I haven’t felt that, too?” he murmured. “You think it’s been easy for me, either? Watching you with him, knowing you’re spending time with Soobin because you’re not sure about us? Not sure about me?”
The words stung, and you averted your gaze again, your heart aching at the raw honesty in his voice. “It’s not like that,” you said weakly. “Soobin’s just... a friend.”
Jungwon’s lips tightened at the word. “A friend, huh?”
You nodded, but it felt hollow. You weren’t sure if it was true anymore—not when Soobin made you laugh so easily, not when he made your heart feel lighter in ways that Jungwon didn’t seem to. But the truth was, you couldn’t let yourself go down that path. You couldn’t let yourself hurt Soobin, not when you still cared about him. And you did care about him, in a way that you weren’t sure how to explain.
“I’m sorry,” you said, almost instinctively, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I just... I don’t know what I’m doing, Jungwon. I don’t know how to fix this.”
His hand finally reached up, cupping your chin gently to tilt your face so that you were looking at him once more. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek.
“You don’t have to fix anything,” Jungwon said, his voice quieter now. “But you can’t keep pushing me away. Not when we’re already this far into this.” He paused, searching your eyes as if trying to read the truth between the lines. “If you’re my soulmate, then I don’t want to keep pretending like it doesn’t mean anything.”
You blinked, the weight of his words sinking in. You didn’t know how to respond—not when the truth was so complicated, not when everything felt like it was teetering on the edge of something you weren’t ready to face.
“I don’t know how this works,” you admitted quietly. “But I can’t just ignore it either. I—” You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “But I don’t want to hurt anyone in the process, either.”
Jungwon’s expression softened, the intensity in his gaze giving way to something gentler. “Then let’s figure it out,” he said quietly. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now. But we can’t keep running away from it.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you.
Just as the air between you and Jungwon began to settle, and you were both preparing to leave the small room, a sudden, unmistakable sound echoed through the hallway outside. The telltale cackle of Peeves reached your ears.
"Oi, what's this? A little lover's quarrel?" Peeves' voice was high-pitched and mocking, and you could hear the sound of him shuffling on the other side of the door.
Before either of you could react, the door locked with an audible click, trapping you both inside. You and Jungwon exchanged a quick glance, both of you already understanding what had just happened.
"Peeves, open this door!" you called out, your voice sharp with irritation. "This isn’t funny!"
But instead of an answer, the only thing you heard was Peeves’ signature cackling, growing fainter as he moved down the hall. "Not so fast! You two have got plenty to talk about! Have fun!" His voice echoed as it faded into the distance.
Jungwon let out a frustrated sigh, stepping forward and trying the door, but it didn't budge. He pressed his palm against the wood, his frown deepening.
"Great," he muttered, the annoyance evident in his voice. "We’re stuck here now."
You crossed your arms, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at the awkwardness of the situation. Of course, Peeves had to pick the exact moment when things were finally starting to make sense between you and Jungwon to lock you both in a room together.
"I guess we should sit down and wait for the magic to wear off," you said dryly, trying to lighten the mood. You were half expecting Jungwon to make a sarcastic comment in return, but when you looked up, you found him watching you, his expression softened, though still a little tense.
"Not exactly how I pictured this," he said with a half-smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he shifted his focus elsewhere, like he was trying to process everything that had just happened.
"Yeah, well, Peeves does have a knack for timing," you muttered, your own smile faltering. You both took a step back, leaning against opposite walls, leaving some space between you.
You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Jungwon, your chest tightening a little at how the room felt smaller now, despite the fact that the walls were the same. The quiet between you two had changed, from tense silence to something that felt heavier, like something important had shifted and you were still trying to figure out exactly what it was.
"So, uh...," you said, breaking the silence. "This is fun, huh?"
Jungwon chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "I’m trying not to think about it. Honestly, I just... I don’t know what I’m supposed to say now. We’re soulmates, but I can’t just expect you to drop everything and choose me, especially with everything that’s been going on with Soobin."
You blinked, feeling a mix of emotions flood you—guilt, confusion, and a strange sense of relief that he was being honest with you. "I never expected you to just—" You cut yourself off. What had you expected? Had you been expecting Jungwon to just accept that you’d be together because of your soulmark? Was that fair to either of you?
"It’s not easy, Jungwon," you said finally. "I care about Soobin. I do. He’s been there for me in ways I didn’t think anyone else would be."
Jungwon’s eyes flickered toward the door, then back to you, and he let out a long breath. "I know you do. And I’m not trying to tell you to stop spending time with him. I just... I don’t want you to think that I’m going to disappear because you’re with him." His voice softened, and he looked at you. "I’m still here, and I’m not going anywhere."
You felt a lump form in your throat at his words. Jungwon's vulnerability was something new, something raw that you weren’t used to seeing from him, especially like this.
You both fell into silence, the weight of the room pressing down on you, heavier than the stone walls surrounding you. Neither of you spoke.
You shifted your position, feeling the warmth of Jungwon’s body too close to your own. Every time you tried to step away, your back brushed against the cold wall, and the small room only seemed to shrink around you. You knew you had to do something to get some space, but the proximity felt... different than it had before. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but it was undeniably intimate in a way that made your heart beat faster.
"Jungwon..." you whispered, shifting slightly, trying to create some distance between you two. But with your movement, his hand instinctively reached out, grabbing your waist and pulling you back toward him.
“Don’t,” he murmured softly, his voice strained, almost as though he were trying to convince himself as much as you. His face was flushed, his breath shallow. His gaze flickered down for a moment before he quickly looked away, a slight embarrassment coloring his features.
“I—uh...” He cleared his throat, still not meeting your eyes. "I think it’s better if we don’t move too much. We’re stuck in here for now, so..."
His words trailed off as you both stood there, your chest pressed against his, the quiet intensity of the moment thick between you. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the faintest tremor in his hand still holding onto your waist, keeping you there with him.
You felt a twinge of awkwardness, but there was also a flutter in your stomach, something you couldn’t quite identify. Jungwon wasn’t acting like the confident, teasing prefect you were used to. He seemed almost... shy now. He avoided your gaze, and you could see his cheeks were flushed.
“Jungwon,” you repeated, your voice a little softer this time. You weren’t sure if you were trying to calm him down or if you were trying to ease the tension between the two of you. “You’re really close.”
He winced, as if he hadn't realized just how close you both were until you said it. "Sorry," he muttered quickly, but he didn’t let go of your waist. Instead, he awkwardly shifted to give you a little more space, though it wasn’t much.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the absurdity of the situation. Here you were, trapped in a small room, with Jungwon.
A sudden noise broke the tension though —footsteps, echoing from the hall outside. Jungwon straightened, eyes narrowing, before he turned to you.
"Someone’s coming," he said, his tone a little more hopeful. "Let’s see if we can get out of here before Peeves realizes we’re not giving him the satisfaction of getting angry."
You nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Sounds like a plan."
Jungwon gave a quick nod and moved toward the door, banging on it with the flat of his palm. You joined him, calling out through the thick wood. “Hey! Is anyone out there? We’re locked in here!”
For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. Then, faintly, the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears. Your heart leapt. Someone had heard you!
“Keep banging,” Jungwon said, his tone lighter now, and you both resumed your effort.
Finally, the footsteps stopped just outside the door. There was a brief pause before a familiar voice called out, “What’s going on in there?”
“Minji?” you called, recognizing the voice of your fellow prefect. Relief flooded through you. “It’s me! Unlock the door!”
There was a muffled sound—probably Minji sighing in exasperation—before you heard her mutter a quick unlocking spell. The door clicked open, and before either of you could adjust, it swung outward, leaving you and Jungwon stumbling forward into the hall.
You nearly tripped over your own feet, but Jungwon’s hand shot out, gripping your arm to steady you.
Minji stood there, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of you and Jungwon emerging together, slightly disheveled and far too close for comfort. Her gaze flickered from you to Jungwon and back again, her eyebrows arching in silent question.
“What—?” she started, but you cut her off quickly, desperate to explain before her imagination ran wild.
“Peeves locked us in,” you blurted out, gesturing toward the now-open door. “He thought it’d be funny to trap us in that tiny room and leave us there.”
Minji’s eyes narrowed slightly, her expression skeptical. “Right,” she said slowly, her tone clearly implying she wasn’t entirely convinced.
You glanced at Jungwon, hoping he’d back you up, but the sight of him made your words falter. His face was still slightly flushed, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. His usually composed demeanor was cracked just enough to reveal how flustered he was. And worse, he was still standing far too close to you, his hand lingering on your arm as if he’d forgotten to let go.
“Uh, right?” you prompted him, your voice a little too high-pitched.
“Yeah,” Jungwon said quickly, finally releasing your arm and taking a small step back. His voice was steady, but you noticed how his eyes avoided Minji’s and instead flicked toward the floor. “It was just Peeves being Peeves. Nothing more.”
Minji crossed her arms, her lips twitching upward in a knowing smirk. “Uh-huh. Nothing more.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, and you quickly turned the conversation back to the situation at hand. “Anyway, thanks for letting us out,” you said, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “We were starting to think we’d be stuck in there all night.”
“Anytime,” Minji replied, her smirk deepening. Her gaze lingered on the both of you for a moment longer, and you could practically see the gears turning in her head.
“Well,” she said finally, taking a step back, “I’ll leave you two to... whatever it is you’re doing. Try not to get locked in another room together, yeah?”
“Minji!” you protested, but she was already walking away, her laughter echoing down the hall.
You sighed, running a hand over your face. “Great. Now she’s never going to let this go.”
Jungwon chuckled softly beside you, and you turned to look at him. His usual teasing expression was back, but there was something softer in his eyes now, something almost... fond.
“Well,” he said, his voice light, “at least we’ve got a good story to tell, right?”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “Sure. A great story.”
For a moment, the hallway was silent. You stood there, staring at Jungwon, and he stared back. His dark eyes seemed to search yours, like he was trying to figure out what to say—or maybe he was waiting for you to say something first.
The weight of his gaze made your stomach twist, and your cheeks grew warm under the tension that hung in the air. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—to break it, but the words wouldn’t come.
Jungwon shifted slightly, leaning against the wall. His expression softened, the usual teasing edge gone, replaced by something gentler. “Hey,” he started, his voice low and almost hesitant.
It was too much.
“Goodbye!” you blurted, your voice louder than you intended.
Jungwon blinked, startled, but before he could respond, you were already turning on your heel, speeding off down the hallway like a first-year trying not to miss the train to Hogwarts.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your soulmark tingled faintly under your sleeve, but you refused to look back. You didn’t trust yourself to face him—not after everything that had just happened.
What was wrong with you? Why did he always make you feel this way? It wasn’t fair.
“Goodbye?” Jungwon called after you, his tone incredulous but amused. You could hear the faint chuckle in his voice, and it only made you pick up your pace.
You turned the corner and pressed your back against the wall, out of his line of sight. Your hand flew to your chest as if that would calm the rapid thumping of your heart.
What was that? Why did it feel like every time you were near him, the air grew thinner, the world smaller?
You groaned softly, covering your face with your hands. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Jungwon was your rival—your frustrating, irritating rival who lived to tease you and get under your skin.
So why did it feel like he was becoming so much more?
--
The crisp autumn air carried the comforting scent of butterbeer and roasted chestnuts as you strolled through the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade. It was your first free weekend in what felt like forever, and you were determined to enjoy it. You’d already picked up a few books from Scrivenshaft's, a bag of Honeydukes' finest chocolates nestled in your arms, and had plans to end the afternoon with a warm mug of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.
It was supposed to be a peaceful day.
That is, until you heard the familiar sound of raised voices near the outskirts of the village.
At first, you didn’t think much of it. Arguments weren’t uncommon in Hogsmeade, especially with so many students running around. But as you drew closer, a nagging feeling began to creep up your spine.
You froze when you recognized the voices.
Jungwon and Soobin.
Heart pounding, you hurried toward the commotion, weaving through a small cluster of curious onlookers. The scene that greeted you was enough to make your jaw drop.
Jungwon and Soobin stood face-to-face, their wands clenched tightly in their hands. The tension between them crackled in the air like static electricity, and neither seemed willing to back down.
“I’m saying,” Jungwon snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut glass, “you’re wasting her time. If you actually cared about her, you’d stop pretending you have a chance and leave her alone.”
Soobin’s jaw clenched, his usually soft demeanor hardening into something unrecognizable. “And what makes you think you have any right to decide that? You don’t own her, Jungwon. She’s not some prize for you to claim.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
They were arguing… about you?
You took an instinctive step forward, but neither of them noticed you. Their focus was entirely on each other, the frustration and unspoken emotions they’d been holding back for weeks finally spilling out into the open.
“She deserves better than someone who doesn’t even know what she wants,” Jungwon hissed, his knuckles white around his wand. “You don’t know her like I do.”
“And what do you know, Jungwon?” Soobin shot back, his voice rising. “That you’ve been dragging this on for years, pretending you don’t care, only to step in the moment she starts looking at someone else? You’re just jealous.”
Jealous? Jungwon’s expression darkened at the word, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Jealous? Don’t flatter yourself, Soobin. This has nothing to do with you.”
“It has everything to do with me when you keep butting in!” Soobin snapped, his dimples deepening as his grip on his wand tightened. “For once, stop acting like the world revolves around you and let her decide what she wants!”
The words hit like a lightning strike, and for a moment, Jungwon faltered.
“Enough!”
Your voice rang out before you even realized you’d spoken, startling both boys. They turned to you in unison, their expressions shifting from anger to surprise—and then something close to guilt.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you stared them down. “Are you seriously fighting over me? In the middle of Hogsmeade?”
Neither of them responded, their silence only fueling your frustration.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you two,” you continued, your tone firm, “but I’m not some object for you to argue about. I don’t need either of you deciding what’s best for me or who I should spend my time with.”
Soobin looked away, his shoulders slumping slightly, while Jungwon’s gaze remained locked on yours. There was something in his eyes—something vulnerable—that made your stomach twist, but you refused to let it distract you.
“If you can’t act like the grown wizards you’re supposed to be, then maybe I don’t want to spend time with either of you,” you said, your voice softening but still laced with disappointment.
You turned on your heel, clutching your bag of sweets tightly as you marched back toward the village square. The crowd of onlookers quickly dispersed, whispering amongst themselves as they returned to their shopping.
Behind you, you heard Soobin let out a frustrated sigh.
“This isn’t over,” Jungwon muttered, his voice low enough that he probably thought you wouldn’t hear.
But you did.
For days after the argument in Hogsmeade, you stuck to your plan. You avoided both Jungwon and Soobin with a steadfast determination, pouring all your energy into your studies and prefect duties. It wasn’t easy, not when they seemed to pop up everywhere you went, their longing glances and hesitant attempts to talk to you a constant reminder of the rift between you all.
But you were determined to teach them a lesson.
You didn’t stop to acknowledge Soobin when you passed him in the halls, even when his usual cheerful greeting was replaced with a soft, “Hey…” that trailed off when you didn’t respond. You ignored the way his shoulders slumped, or how his dimples didn’t show as much when he smiled at others.
And Jungwon? You didn’t even glance his way during patrols, even when you could feel the weight of his gaze following your every move. You ignored the way your soulmark burned faintly whenever he was near.
It was torture.
Not just for them, but for you too.
You told yourself it was necessary. That they needed to understand how their actions affected you. But that didn’t stop the ache in your chest when you caught Soobin sitting alone at the Gryffindor table during meals, his usually lively voice replaced by silence. It didn’t stop the pang of guilt when you walked into the library and found Jungwon there, staring blankly at an open book, his jaw clenched tightly as he pretended not to notice you.
It hurt.
It hurt to see Soobin’s dimples fade, to watch Jungwon’s confident smirk replaced by a quiet stillness. And it hurt to know that you were the reason for it.
But you didn’t stop.
Every time your resolve wavered, you reminded yourself of that day in Hogsmeade. Of the argument you’d walked in on, the way they’d fought over you like you were some prize to be claimed. You reminded yourself that they needed to learn that you weren’t theirs to argue over.
Still, the distance weighed on you.
There were moments when you almost caved. When Soobin would pass you a small note in class, his handwriting shaky but hopeful, asking if you’d like to meet in the library. When Jungwon would linger after patrols, his expression softening as he quietly said your name, only for you to turn away.
Each time, you swallowed the lump in your throat and pushed forward, ignoring the way your chest tightened and your soulmark burned.
But the worst moment came one evening during dinner.
You were sitting with your friends, trying to focus on the conversation, when you glanced toward the Slytherin table. Jungwon sat at the far end, his head resting on one hand as he absently pushed food around on his plate. His usual liveliness was gone, replaced by a quiet, almost defeated air that made your heart twist painfully in your chest.
Your gaze flickered to the Gryffindor table, where Soobin was seated with a group of his housemates. He was laughing, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His dimples appeared faintly, but they lacked the warmth you’d grown so fond of.
For a moment, you considered getting up. Walking over to them, breaking the silence you’d forced upon yourself and them.
But you didn’t.
Instead, you stayed rooted to your seat, gripping your fork tightly as you forced yourself to look away.
You told yourself this was for the best. That they needed to understand how much their actions had hurt you. But as you sat there, ignoring the ache in your chest and the burn of your soulmark, you couldn’t help but wonder if you were hurting yourself just as much as you were hurting them.
You questioned if this was worth it.
You spent the next few days lost in thought, unable to focus on anything except the whirlwind of confusion inside your mind. The more you thought, the more questions piled up, each one more pressing than the last.
Did Soobin like you enough to consider it love? You could feel the tenderness in his eyes, the way he always seemed to know when you needed a laugh or when your mood shifted. His affection felt genuine, but was it love? Or was it just his natural warmth and kindness? You wanted to believe he cared for you deeply, but could you really be sure?
And Jungwon… You ran your fingers over your soulmark absentmindedly, tracing the faint burn that seemed to pulse with his presence. Was he drawn to you because of the bond you shared, or was there more to it? Did he really like you as a person, or was he just following the pull of fate, following the path that had been set for him? His actions made it hard to tell, and every time you caught a glimpse of his conflicted expression, you only felt more lost.
You sat in your room that evening, a blanket wrapped tightly around you as the cool air from the window brushed against your cheeks. You stared blankly at the wall, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. You’d never been one to let yourself get overwhelmed by emotions, but right now, it was impossible not to.
What am I supposed to do? You couldn’t keep ignoring them, couldn’t keep pretending that it didn’t matter how they were affected by your silence. But you also couldn’t let yourself be pushed into a corner, forced to choose between them just because of some soulmark. You were so much more than that, weren’t you?
The tears started without warning—hot, bitter drops that slid down your face as the realization hit. You had no answers. You had no idea what you were doing, what the right choice even was.
The room felt too small, the weight of everything around you closing in. You buried your face in your hands, trying to stifle the sobs that wracked your body. You were exhausted from holding everything in, from pretending that the pain of making this decision didn’t tear you apart.
Why is this so hard? You thought bitterly, as the tears continued to fall, your vision blurring with each passing second. You hated this feeling. You hated that you could hurt both Soobin and Jungwon by simply existing between them, by trying to find your own way without causing pain.
You wanted to be strong, to find clarity, but all you felt now was the sting of uncertainty and the emptiness of not knowing where to turn.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but your heart still ached, the silent cry you had been holding in for so long now finally spilling over.
How had everything gotten so complicated?
--
You had tried to go about your day as best as you could, despite the storm of emotions brewing inside of you. You needed a distraction, something to pull you out of your spiraling thoughts. But of course, the universe had other plans.
As you walked down one of the quieter hallways, lost in your own thoughts, you failed to notice the telltale signs of Peeves’ latest prank: a small, harmless-looking puddle of water on the floor. Or, what you thought was harmless. As your foot landed in it, the floor suddenly gave way beneath you, and before you could even react, a burst of confetti and loud horns went off above your head.
The water splashed up around you, and your foot slipped, sending you sprawling to the ground with a sharp thud. The confetti rained down on you, a mocking reminder of Peeves’ relentless mischief.
You groaned, pushing yourself up with shaky hands, the sharp pain in your ankle telling you that this wasn’t just an embarrassing fall. You forced yourself to stand, wincing with each movement. It took everything in you to push through the pain, but you knew you couldn’t stay there. You had to get to the hospital wing.
It felt like an eternity as you limped through the halls, your leg throbbing in protest with every step. But eventually, you made it. Madam Pomfrey immediately ushered you onto a bed and began checking you over. You winced as she poked and prodded at your ankle, muttering under her breath.
You had never been one to ask for attention, but it was clear you couldn’t hide the injury, not when it was as obvious as it was. After Madam Pomfrey wrapped up your ankle and began to administer a pain-relieving potion, you closed your eyes, trying to relax. You really just wanted a moment of peace, to recover from everything.
But peace didn’t seem to be on the menu that day.
The door to the hospital wing creaked open, and you opened your eyes to see both Soobin and Jungwon stepping inside. Their eyes locked on you instantly, their expressions unreadable. Soobin was the first to speak, his voice warm but laced with concern.
“Hey… Are you alright?” he asked softly, taking a few steps forward.
You nodded, trying to smile, but the discomfort from your ankle made it difficult to do so. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little… well, you know, Peeves. Same old story.”
Jungwon, who had been standing a bit further away, finally moved closer. His gaze flicked from you to Soobin, then back to you, his jaw clenching just slightly. "You’re really lucky you didn’t hurt yourself worse," he said, his tone more curt than usual.
You didn’t miss the tension between the two of them. The way Soobin hovered near you, his eyes full of concern, and Jungwon’s more guarded expression. The air between them felt thick, like the two of them were both trying to control the emotions they didn’t want to express.
Soobin, sensing the silence hanging between them, cleared his throat and gave you a soft smile. “I’ll make sure you’re okay. We can talk later, right? After you rest a bit.”
You nodded again, grateful for his kindness. “Yeah, thanks, Soobin.”
Jungwon was still standing off to the side, looking like he was holding back a thousand thoughts he didn’t want to share. He glanced at Soobin once more, before finally turning back to you, his expression softening—just a little.
“You should rest,” he murmured, his voice almost hesitant.
You met his gaze, but before you could say anything, both of them stepped back.
After they left, the tension between them still lingered in the air. You could see it in the way they avoided eye contact, in the short, clipped exchanges they had with each other.
--
Your ankle had finally healed, and you found yourself walking through the hallways, your steps purposefully quick, but your mind racing even faster. You had spent days trying to sort through your feelings, to understand everything that had been happening. Now, you knew exactly who you needed to talk to.
You spotted him from a distance — standing by one of the doorways, lost in thought. It was as if everything else around you faded into the background. Your heart started to beat a little faster, and before you could second-guess yourself, you crossed the hallway and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him with you toward an empty classroom.
He stumbled for a moment, clearly caught off guard by your sudden action. "Hey, what’s—" he started, but you didn’t let him finish. You pulled him all the way inside, closing the door behind you with a soft click, your breath quickening in your chest. The room was dim, the sunlight filtering through the tall windows casting long shadows on the stone floor.
When you let go of his arm, you stepped back, eyes not leaving his face. He blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to something more guarded, almost unsure. “What’s going on?” he asked, his voice quiet.
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding as you finally asked the question that had been eating at you for so long. "Jungwon," you began, your voice steady but laced with uncertainty. "What do you feel about me?"
His eyes softened, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. The silence between you stretched, heavy with the weight of unspoken words. He seemed to gather himself, his gaze never wavering from yours, before he finally answered.
"I..." Jungwon hesitated, running a hand through his hair, and you saw the vulnerability in his eyes. "From the very first time I saw you, sitting there, waiting to be sorted into a house... I knew I wanted to get to know you. Even if it meant teasing you at first, I just... I wanted to be around you."
You could feel your chest tightening, the words he was saying hitting you harder than you expected.
He took a step closer, his voice softer now, almost like a confession. "But as the years passed, my feelings for you... they grew stronger. It was more than just wanting to know you, it was about needing to be with you." He paused, as if the weight of the truth was difficult to say. "Every time I saw you, my heart would beat faster. My palms would get sweaty. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And when I saw your Patronus... and I realized you were my soulmate, I was so happy. I thought everything was perfect." Jungwon’s gaze dropped for a moment, his voice turning quiet. "But then I found out you were hiding it from me. You kept it from me, and it hurt, more than I can explain."
You wanted to say something, to tell him that you were sorry, but you waited.
"As much as it hurt, my love for you didn’t change. It only made me want to be with you even more, to be the one who gets to be with you. But..." He glanced away briefly, as if gathering his thoughts before looking back at you with a pained expression. "When I saw you with Soobin, when I saw you laughing and being so close with him... it hurt. I couldn’t help but feel jealous. I wanted that to be me, not him. I wanted to be the one making you smile like that."
The words hung in the air, thick with emotion, and you felt your heart twist. The truth was out.
You took a shaky breath, your mind spinning with everything he had just said. "Jungwon..." you whispered, not sure what else to say.
His gaze softened, and for a brief moment, he looked like the person you had always known—the one who had been by your side all these years, even when you didn’t realize it. "I just want to be with you."
Your heart raced, the weight of his words sinking deep inside you. It was a confession that you had been waiting to hear.
Jungwon took a step closer, his hand reaching out slightly, as if unsure whether to close the distance between you.
You reached up without thinking, your hand trembling slightly as you cupped his cheek, your fingers brushing against the warmth of his skin. The contact sent a wave of emotions crashing over you—uncertainty, longing, but also an overwhelming sense of rightness. For a brief moment, the whole world seemed to pause, leaving just the two of you standing there in the quiet room, hearts racing in sync.
Jungwon’s eyes searched yours, his breath coming in shallow bursts. You could feel his pulse beneath your fingers, and something deep inside you whispered that this was the moment. No more hesitations, no more confusion.
Before you could second guess yourself, you leaned in. His breath caught in his throat, and for the briefest second, it felt like time stood still.
Then your lips met, soft and hesitant at first, but it didn’t take long for the kiss to deepen. It was as if the world around you melted away, leaving only the connection between the two of you. Jungwon’s hands moved quickly, finding their way around your waist, pulling you closer against him, the warmth of his embrace a comforting anchor.
You responded in kind, your arms sliding up to wrap around his neck, pulling yourself even closer. The kiss was both gentle and urgent, a mixture of emotions that neither of you had fully expressed until now.
Your soulmark burned to life beneath your skin, the familiar warmth spreading through you in a wave, almost like a gentle hum.
You broke the kiss just enough to look at him, your foreheads resting together as you caught your breath. Jungwon’s eyes were dark with emotion, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. He was staring at you as if he had just found something he had been searching for all this time.
"I never thought it would be like this," you whispered, your voice thick with the emotions you couldn’t quite put into words.
"Neither did I," he replied softly, his hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. "But it feels... right. Doesn’t it?"
You nodded, your heart fluttering in your chest as you leaned back in, your lips meeting his again. The kiss started softly, a gentle exploration of each other's mouths, but soon it grew more intense.
Jungwon's breaths became heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he held you close, your hands entwined in his hair.
Suddenly, with a surge of strength, Jungwon lifted you up, his arms around your waist, and set you gently on the desk behind you.
As you landed on the desk, your arms instinctively went underneath Jungwon's Slytherin robe, your hands finding the warmth of his skin. You could feel the muscles of his back as he held you in place.
Jungwon's kisses became more urgent, his tongue teasing and exploring, as if he couldn't get enough of you.
You, feeling the intensity of Jungwon's kisses, decided to playfully pull back, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. As you withdrew, Jungwon's lips followed, his eyes sparkling with a hint of surprise.
"You like that, do you?" you teased, your voice soft and filled with amusement. "Can't get enough of me, huh?"
Jungwon's lips curled into a grin, a smile of mischief. "I could kiss you all day," he replied, his voice low. "Your lips are like a drug, and I'm addicted."
You giggled, a sound that was both playful and inviting. "Well, you better not overdose then," you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Or we might have a problem."
Jungwon's grin widened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours gently. "I'll take that risk," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Because being with you is worth any risk."
You melted into his embrace, your arms slipping around his neck, inviting him to continue the dance of kisses. Jungwon's hands, which had been roaming your body with a possessive touch, now caressed your cheeks, his thumbs tracing the curve of your lips.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and adoration. "And your kisses... they drive me wild."
His touch was gentle but insistent, like he couldn't quite get enough of you, and honestly, neither could you. Every kiss, every caress sent a thrill through you.
His lips trailed to your jaw, then to the sensitive spot behind your ear, making you shiver involuntarily. "I never thought it would feel like this," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Like... everything I’ve been waiting for, all at once."
You smiled softly, your hands sliding down to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart, matching your own. "I never thought it would happen, either," you whispered back. "But I’m so glad it did."
Jungwon pulled back slightly, looking at you with eyes full of wonder, as if seeing you for the first time. "You make everything feel right," he said, his voice a tender confession. "Like I’m where I’m supposed to be."
Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I feel the same way," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I think I always have."
For a moment, you both just stayed there, caught in the magic of the moment, the silence between you full of understanding and comfort.
Then, with a soft laugh, Jungwon pulled you closer again, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. "I think we’re going to be just fine, don’t you?" he said, his lips brushing against your forehead.
You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Yeah," you whispered, your voice filled with certainty. "We’re going to be more than fine."
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Taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @starf4lls @obyyyy
Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3
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redroomreflections · 2 days ago
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Something With Sea Turtles
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Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
A Family Of Her Own AU
(Natasha has a secret family)
Summary: Pregnant R and Natasha loves on her.
Natasha is good at many things. Intimidating bad guys, disappearing without a trace, dismantling a firearm in seconds. Painting walls? Well, that’s a skill she’s still figuring out.
She had insisted on painting the nursery walls for the arrival of your little one in a few months. It was supposed to be a nice bonding experience. But, as with most things involving the two of you, it had quickly turned into a bit of a disaster.
"You said this would be easy," You teased from your spot on the floor, perched on a pile of cushions Natasha had painstakingly arranged for your comfort. Your hand rested on your growing belly as you watched her, amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth.
Natasha stood on a step stool, paint roller in hand, squinting at the wall. She was trying her best to create a soft, underwater gradient—blues and greens swirling together like an aquarium, the perfect theme for your baby’s nursery. But the brush strokes were uneven, and there was a smudge where she got a little overzealous with the darker blue.
"It is easy," she replied, her tone stubborn. "I’m just… experimenting with technique."
"Right," You muttered to yourself. "We could just hire someone."
"No!" She exclaimed, then, more gently: "No. I want to do this."
And, honestly, she did. The baby wasn't a shock by any means. Natasha had been dreaming about this day since the first time she fell in love with you. She had planned every detail down to the color of the paint, but when it came time to do the actual painting, she wanted nothing more than to do it herself.
"I know, but we don't even know if our baby will like water or animals..." You reached into your lap to open a bag of chips. "What if they hate all this ocean stuff?"
"If our baby hates all of this ocean stuff, then we'll just paint over it," Natasha lowered her paintbrush to glance back at you. "When did you become such a pessimist?"
"It's called being realistic."
Natasha huffed and dipped the roller in the pan, then continued her work.
"You're supposed to be relaxing."
"I can't relax when I have paint splattered all over my clothes," You gestured to the splotches of green and blue across your sweatshirt. "I'll never get these stains out."
Natasha glanced over her shoulder at you and smiled softly.
"Well, if you remove your clothes, I promise I'll be gentle."
"You're a dork," You chuckled. "And I'm not stripping in front of the baby."
"The baby's not even born yet."
"Still."
"Fine, then how about I strip for you," Natasha wiggled her hips and hummed playfully. "How's that for relaxation?"
"Tempting, but maybe you should finish the wall before we do anything else," You said. You looked down at the sweater to tug it over your belly. It seemed a bit tight these days. "Do you think I'm getting too big for this?"
"Your shirt?"
"Yeah, I mean... I feel like my stomach is stretching the fabric."
"Hmmm," Natasha mused. "Well, I'd say it looks pretty good."
"Good?"
"Perfect," She smiled to herself. "Absolutely perfect."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Of course."
"You're not lying to me right?" You tilted your head.
"When have I ever lied to you, Y/n?"
"A bunch of times actually," You raised a brow. "I was your superior."
"That doesn't count. Besides, it's my job."
"Your job is to tell me the truth," You sighed. "Do my boobs look too huge?"
"What? No!" She turned on the stool, her brows furrowed in confusion.
"But I've grown a size," You frowned, running a hand over your breasts. "You should be telling me to cover up."
"Are you crazy?" She asked, her eyes wide. "Y/n, you're carrying our child; I think you're allowed to dress comfortably. Also, I'm not complaining about your breast size."
"Yeah, but—"
"Listen," She set the paint roller down and stepped off the stool, "You're beautiful. Okay? And your tits are a part of that. You know, they're like an extra gift from the universe."
"Extra gift?"
"Like I'm already grateful for our baby," She said. "But then, your boobs get bigger, and, you know, I'm a very appreciative person."
"You won't be able to touch them for a while," You reminded her.
"I'm willing to wait."
"And I'm going to have stretch marks."
"So?"
"And my stomach will look weird and puffy," You sighed. "I mean, it's not going to go away."
"I don't care," she said. "Y/n, none of that matters. You're giving us a baby."
You were about to make a joke about how much it would probably hurt to push something the size of a melon out of your vagina, but when you saw the look in her eyes, your smile faded. She was so earnest, and suddenly, you felt guilty for not appreciating everything she was saying.
"Sorry," You said.
"For what?"
"Not listening to you," You shrugged.
"Don't apologize," Natasha walked toward you, then knelt beside your spot on the pillows. "I get it. There are days when I feel like I'm losing my mind. But, no matter what, you'll always be my favorite thing to look at."
"Nat," You grinned.
"Seriously," She smiled back. "And I'm gonna tell you that every single day until the end of time."
"Well, you'll be busy painting."
"Then, I'll paint it on the wall," She winked.
"God, I love you," You murmured, leaning forward to kiss her.
"Love you too," She replied, her breath warm against your lips. "Both of you."
"Now, go back to painting before you ruin it." You gestured. "I can kind of see the vision for the whale."
"See? That's what I'm talking about. I'm making art."
"Do you mind taking a breath to come rub this on my belly?" You gestured to the container of cocoa butter next to you.
"Of course," Natasha grabbed the tube, and unscrewed the cap. Then, she squeezed a generous amount onto her palm and set the bottle aside.
"You know," She began, "what you said earlier. I hope you don't believe that about yourself. That I won't find you attractive."
"No, I don't, not really," You shrugged. "It's just hard sometimes. My brain goes all crazy and my hormones are making me all weepy. But, I have you. And, you're not going anywhere, right?"
"Of course not."
"Good," You murmured. "'Cause I don't think I'd last long without you."
"Don't say that," She said, her voice quiet.
"Sorry."
"Stop apologizing," She scolded. "You'll be fine. I'll be fine. Everything will be fine. Now, can we focus on the positive? Like, for example, the fact that you're pregnant."
"I am pregnant."
"You are." She rested her hands on your belly. She began to rub the cocoa butter in circular motions against your skin. "You look so good like this."
"Really?"
"Yeah," She smiled, looking down at her hands pressing against the curve of your abdomen. She was so gentle with the bump. "This is exactly what I always imagined."
"What did you imagine?"
"A cute wife who was carrying my child," She smirked. "I guess I've always had a fantasy about having a family of my own."
"Well, you're living the dream." You grinned at her. For a second there wasn't much talking until you felt a slight movement inside of you. "She's awake."
"Really?" Natasha looked down.
"Yeah," You said. "Can you feel her?"
"Um, well," Natasha hesitated. "I mean, not really."
"Here," You reached down and took her hand, guiding it a bit further up your belly. "There. Do you feel that?"
"I—" Natasha paused, and then, she felt it, a faint movement against her hand. "Yeah?"
"Whenever you're near she gets to moving," You point out. "I think she recognizes your voice already."
A soft, surprised laugh escaped Natasha’s lips as she watched her hand rest against your belly, her expression melting into something softer than usual. She didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she let it linger, her thumb tracing circles on your skin.
"I think she’s already got me wrapped around her finger," she murmured, her voice full of affection and wonder. "Just like her mother."
"That's how it starts."
"Oh, is that a warning?"
"Yes."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." She leaned forward to kiss your belly. Then, she rested her cheek against your skin. "I couldn't be any happier than in this moment."
"That's good," You brushed her hair from her forehead, stroking her scalp gently. "But, just so you know, when I'm back on my feet, I'm kicking your ass for making me paint a sea turtle."
"Hey," she said, her tone playful. "You're the one who agreed to help."
"I regret everything."
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cherry-pop-elf · 3 days ago
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Kiss it Better Pt:3
Curly x Reader
AN: I am just speechless. All this support is making me tear up. Like holy shit. Thank you. Don’t worry! When this finishes(god idk how it will I’m making up as I go since yall want more chapters) I’ll make sure to post it to AO3 for easier access! Just thank you again! And uh. Don’t forget I have a Kofi and Wishlist if you wanna like tip or something. NO PRESSURE! Just a reminder to anyone who WANTS and CAN! You come first! Just. Thank you again!
SUM: You couldn’t sleep, so you try and remember things with Curly to lull you to sleep. As you do, you remember things that are important for a captain to have. Very important, and you are gonna be certain to find them
Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, mentions of abortion (it’s a rather calm chapter really. Take it as a pallet cleanser because the next chapter imma really show you how fucked up Jimmy is))
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You just couldn’t sleep. It felt criminal to right now. So much was going through your head. So much has happened and now you had time to let it all soak in. The crash, Anya, why there was a crash, Curly’s condition, it made sleep impossible. Especially alone in that big bed that was meant for you and your husband.
You tried to take in deep breaths, and just let the thoughts wash over you. There was responsibility as the Captains Spouse. You weren’t just ‘eye candy’ like Jimmy said. You had worth, and were just as much important to the team as everyone else.
Such as learning a thing or two about what Captain should do in case of an emergency.
Curly was in no state to help, and Jimmy sure as fuck won’t help either. He was the reason everyone crashed after all. He’s a loose cannon and you needed to tip toe around him. Who knows what he might do next. You weren’t even sure if telling Swansea and Daisuke about what’s going on was smart.
Swansea has little girls of his own after all. He won’t react well at all. Then there’s Daisuke. Barely nineteen and thrown into this mess. He might panic or maybe even do something crazy like confront Jimmy. There was just to many what ifs.
So you were left on your own.
You would wrap yourself up in what was once Curly’s sleep robe and grab his spare ID card. The very thing that can unlock any door, and be the one thing that can lock your bedroom door. Definitely should have Anya sleep in here for a while. She deserves to be able to sleep soundly.
While you were waiting for everyone to sleep as well you would explore the bedroom. Looking into nook and cranny to see if there was anything of use. The Captains always were given a bunch of extra shit after all. Even Pony Express had to meet some safety protocols. Curly was their best after all. Even went as far as to try and help him fine work else where. That’s what he explained to you.
Shame. Was just a normal bedroom. The only thing that made it special was it was bigger, and had a lock. Dammit all to hell.
That’s when you tried to think back on past memories of you and your husband. To try and recall any kind of special thing the ships carry. Oh how you felt so guilty for never paying enough attention. Made you feel stupid and useless, but you weren’t.
At least not in comparison to Jimmy.
With a deep breath, you managed to recall something. Something not long before the crash even. You had knocked on the cockpit door to enter it, and was greeted to your husband and Jimmy working. Curly was rambling on about something, while Jimmy kept eyeing the locker suspiciously. As if he wanted to get inside of it for some reason.
That’s your best lead now. God dammit was it a shitty one. The cockpit was stuffed to the brim with foam. But then again that’s the front of the cockpit. If you were careful, and cut the right spot, maybe you can access the locker.
It’s something. Something is better than nothing.
With the robe tossed aside, a change into your jump suit, gloves slipped on, and beanie pulled on to keep your head safe you would make your way to the kitchen. Card key tucked securely inside of your jumpsuit compared to a pocket.
Jimmy can’t know.
Can’t know that you were stealing the only knife that the ship had.
Was going to be a pain in the ass to cut that foam but you really had nothing better to do. So, you unlocked the cock pit and focused on remembering its layout.
“For Anya, for Curly, for Swansea, for Daisuke, and all our families back home.”
You would start the slow and agonizing cutting. Little by little. Just chopping away to try and reach the right side of the pit. To get to that locker and see what was inside. That locker was in the cockpit for a reason. It can only be accessed by the pilots for a reason. There was a reason.
Any time you felt like your arms would give out you thought back to Curly. How he didn’t really have arms anymore to begin with. How Anya was busy throwing up right now. How they needed you. They both needed you.
It had been well over a hour, but you managed to reach the locker. You allowed yourself a breather at the sight of it. Damn was that a pain, but it’ll be worth it. Right?
With your breather over you would use the key card to access the locker. Inside was….Honestly junk. That had you very disappointed. You were honestly ready to cry out of frustration, only to see there were a few locked cabinets inside.
Ones that needed codes.
Codes you knew.
Curly made you memorize them in case of an emergency. He just said to memorize them. That it’s meant to just unlock pin pads. That Pony Express never bothered to change them.
You went to the lower locker and typed it in.
Strange, there was nothing inside. Suppose whatever was inside was taken out. You wondered what could have been in there. Was a very small locker so maybe it was some code scanner or universal unlocking device. Just wasn’t big enough for something you hoped for.
A transmitter.
He prayed it was near the front of the ship. That a transmitter would stuck in the heart of the foam, or as far as just shatter on contact. They had to have a spare communicator. Pony Express had to follow SOME rules after all. Imagine the ship being discovered and the people who found it saw it was missing something as important as that.
So you typed in the code for the larger locker. You were kinda afraid of opening it. To be met with another empty void of metal and dust.
You took a deep breath, and opened.
There really was a god.
There was what you were looking for. A real deal communicator. It was real, it looked untouched and even had dust on it to show that Jimmy never reached it.
Before you grabbed it you made sure to close the door behind you. Just to be sure. Was the dead of night, well from what the clocks say, and everyone should be asleep. Even Jimmy had to sleep. You had to make you move now.
Remain calm, and focus.
You can’t fuck this up.
You snuggled yourself into the corner of the pit, with the communication device in your lap. You hooked the head phones onto your head, and turned it on.
As you waited for it to boot up you made sure you were positioned so that if anyone came through the door, for some reason, you’ll notice. As far as anyone was aware though this room was basically a wall. No purpose to enter. You should be safe, but you had to think ahead. Jimmy was unpredictable, and so full of himself.
Better to be over prepared than see what happens if Jimmy finds out what you are doing.
Couldn’t help but give a squeak of surprise when someone finally spoke to you.
“This is the Emergency Spaceship Retrieval Sector. What seems to be the problem?”
A woman, through the static, spoke to you. Tears of relief fell down your face but you forced yourself to remain focused. You can’t mess this up now. No way no how.
“This is Tulpar for Pony Express. We have suffered a crash about a month ago. From what I can recall we had been a little over four months into our twelve month journey-“ You immediately explained, as to best help them get an estimation on how far the ship had traveled.
“Alright, who may I be speaking to at this moment?”
Deep breaths.
“I am the Spouse to Captain Curly. It is me, Jimmy the co-pilot, Anya the nurse, Swansea the mechanic, and Daisuke our intern.” Deep breaths, keep things quick and to the point.
“Are you all in any immediate danger?”
You had to think about that a moment. Jimmy is a dangerous man. Who knows what he might do next if you don’t play along. So, you had to be honest. You felt guilty for telling the operator what happened. That Curly suffered greatly and needed immediate medical attention, how Anya was a victim of assault and required an abortion as soon as possible, and that the reason for it all was because of Jimmy. He crashed the ship, he raped Anya, he destroyed Curly, and god knows what he will do next.
“Estimated arrival time will be about a month. We have your exact location thanks to the communicator. Remain calm, and know that help is on the way. We have logged this down in the report. Take care of your crew the best you can, Captain.”
And she would log off. You would let your head thump back, and simply cried. Cried in pure relief and joy. That a real person heard you, and was aware of what’s going on. That if anything did go wrong that at least someone knows. Someone will know what happened.
There was hope.
Now was a matter of survival.
One month.
You all needed to survive one month.
One Month Until Rescue…
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Tag List
@dinkyzoop @danart501 @spudfromspace @niyamamiya
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hmusunoo · 19 hours ago
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I really didn't want to do this but at this point I cannot stand behind and allow a group of people to berate and bully my friends for simply putting boundaries between them. There has been so much hate and disgusting things happening on Tumblr lately and I whole heartedly believe that these people have to do with the many hate accounts circulating, I have a ton of evidence to why these people are not good people and they genuinely need to be stopped.
Bullying is not cute, it's not funny, it's not you being "Real." no, you're just being plain fucking mean. I have evidence on only a few people for things they have said and done, but I think that their entire friend group is guilty. I am almost certain that they send each other anon hate asks so that they can respond being "real" and get more attention on themselves.
Firstly, where I think this all originated, now I am telling this in a way that I can explain as best as I can and from when I was there, I know that prior to this incident these people had an issue respecting my friend Mars's pronouns (something they continue to do) When mars set these boundaries with an account called Jaeyunsonly, Eva (jaeyunonlys) continued to do it. Eva would call mars "girl" and Mars simply asked for her to not call them that, Eva apologized but then continued to do it, so mars unfollowed and made the decision to no longer associate theirselves with Eva, which is completely understandable and should not warrant the hate that their receiving.
Now, coming from where myself and Kaia come in. Kaia and Eva would talk very little I think I was told that had only had a total of two conversations and weren't close at all but still Kaia was friendly with Eva. Eva joined my discord server and she was really nice and cool at first. One night when myself and Kaia were on Vc as we did a lot Eva joined, we were ok with that of course anyone was welcome to join the vc. Eva mainly kept on mute and again, we were fine with that Kaia and I carried along with our conversation as normal. That was until Eva muted and told us that her friend was getting "freaky" to our American voices.
It had made me and Kaia a bit uncomfortable but we tried to brush it aside. After that Kaia decided to make a new smau and Eva messaged her with a message that had made Kaia a bit uncomfortable.
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and although we can admit that this was in good faith, it made Kaia a little uncomfortable seeing as Eva and her were not very good friends and we had gotten bad vibes since she had said that her friend was getting "freaky from our voices" Kaia messaged Eva back, very respectfully to say that she wasn't comfortable with her unsolicited advice.
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This was written very respectfully and after that Kaia was no longer interested in being Eva's friend. Which she HAS THE RIGHT TO. This is when the hateful messages started and the little indirects. We even shortly realized that a weird, ableist and quite frankly racist message that came into my inbox a while back was none other then Eva as well only further us not wanting to be associated with her.
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Read it and weep, this is such a weird thing to say. There are ot7 briize of every race, nationality and everything why feel the need to attack one over the other and to also call them mentally challenged?? Actually insane, not even to mention the P DIDDY JOKES SHES MADE. Like what ? and Honeybelle, let me even get into honeybelle. This was her response to Eva's pdidy jokes.
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was it "satire" to p diddy's victims honeybelle? was it just a "joke" to them. Like be so for real this is so disgusting, and saying it was just SATIRE. come on where is the accountability?
but I think its obvious that nothing bothers honeybelle seeing as she thinks its ok to write smut that includes minors even if theyre not included in the actual sexual acts.
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Like what?? Here's the story too btw you be the judge, she also mentioned and later deleted that the reader was high school but a cam girl?? read these and ket me know exactly what the fuck you think.
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"I realize that Riki is still a kid but im too lazy to re edit" what. speaks for itself.
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She even deleted a sentence I very much remember where jay says to reader that "she is just a hole for Riki to fuck." like what?? that's sick. Not even to mention that Honeybelle's work is very very similar to Mars...anyways.
Something that mars tried to handle in private and was very respectful about, they use this as another thing to attack mars and Kaia about.
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you would count this as resolved right? but they just cant seem to let it go. As they relentlessly continue to bully Kaia and mars over it. Kaia and mars have done nothing but set boundaries and theyre getting attacked for it.
In comes virtualhoon and all her friends or moots idk. And although Virtualhoon has a right to say whatever she wants on her account sure, she should not be allowed to BULLY people. You aren't being "real" you're being a mean girl. Then you say you want everyone out of your business but continue to make posts and respond to anons talking about the situations and lets me real, what are the chances that all this friend group is sending the anons to further the issue. Mars and Kaia have not spoken about it but when they do they get berated (I have further screenshots of this.)
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but also the AAV...but anyways.
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Bullies. bullies. bullies.
fast forward to today where mars was ONCE AGAIN, misgendered and Kaia came to their defense and this is their response.
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like y'all think talking to people like this is ok?? no wtf. This is disgusting and if you think this kind of behavior is OK? you're just as bad. Also, isn't the way these people talk very very familiar to all these hate accounts floating around and if they can talk about people this bluntly then what do you think they say behind an ALT. I dont have solid proof of that but come on, we're not stupid.
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also... come on this is so racist.
This is only scratching of what have done, if you go to virtualhoon's profile you can see countless times that she has attacked Kaia unprovoked. This is the act of bullies, i'm sick of the negativity on Tumblr but I don't care this has to be said.
@heeambi, @chobunz , @leeechin , @pshbites , @jaysng , @suneng
@coqhee , , @st1llm0nster , @nshmuras , @won4kiss , @wonsdoll , @jaemna , @vveebee ee , @lunesdesire e , @lvnglysunoo oo ,
just tagging moots for awareness, not saying you’re involved.
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yayll · 1 day ago
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heyyy! I just read ur rockstar!Dazai fic and it honestly reminded me of this idea I had!!! (loved the fic btw!) Are you able to write an actor!dazai x fem!actor reader and they r fake dating while secretly being rivals ?? (I’d like 2 be known as 🦎-anon!)
hiiii 🦎 anon hehe
i'm sorry this was quite the wait, i LOVED your idea and i wanted to write it properly and i kind of took some liberties so i hope you enjoy it regardless? thank you for trusting me w your fic idea actor!dazai now haunts me actually dazai in any like, imagine just fucks my shit up that man is a menace in any story i put him in and i'm so glad others agree. i love u baby mwah u get so many ivy kisses
~ a little something about you and actor!Dazai keeping up appearances ~
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"You're choking meee!"
"I'm just fixing your tie, Osamu-"
"It's babe, actually."
"It's whatever I want if you want me to keep holding your hand in public, jerk."
He pouts at this. What a cute little meanie you were! Always scolding him and spewing empty threats as if you were hot shit. You were hot shit, and that was only the beginning of his problems... The biggest one right now being backstage with you while attending the hottest awards show of the year.
Just before he can respond, the curtains are drawn and it's a stagehand whisking you two away to present the next award infront of thousands of fans. You're walking side by side, your heels clicking with each step when Dazai leans in to whisper something.
"You should stand on my left, my right side is more attractive."
"We're both facing forward, does it matter?"
He raises a brow and huffs dramatically in typical Dazai fashion. You two had been 'dating' for a year now, everyone was invested in this blooming romance ever since you both started in that drama together, now it's nothing but red hearts for you two.
It wasn't planned, it just kind of happened... It also wasn't completely awful, but it was the goddamn ego on Dazai that really made you want to strangle him sometimes. He knew he was pretty and desired, and what a threat you were with such an iconic streak in all of your latest projects. No wonder you two had to be paired together, on your own you were both dynamite. An unstable formula that needed to be stabilized by combining it together. Thought could that make it worse?
You present the award holding hands the entire time, an act highly encouraged by the need to convince, and yet when it's you two doing it it never feels as forced as you'd like it to be. There is a comfortability in the role of this relationship, you've come to realize yet supress. You'll hold hands for so long you begin to get clammy, and it's certainly not because he dotes on you almost every time he speaks! Which he hates doing... It's just a script, after all. Duh.
You're both making your way out of the venue towards the car that awaits to drive you to the after party when you're ambushed by interviewers and hundreds of flashes that yell out speed questions.
"Does the beautiful couple have time to stop and answer a few things for us tonight!"
Dazai loves that shit. Of course he has the time, he doesn't care if you don't. He has to sell it, obviously, since you don't put in the effort according to him. He flashes the interviewer that sardonic little smirk you hate and speaks innocently.
"Why, us? Sure! Right, honey?"
He turns to you and the crowd loves it. You hold back how badly you want to roll your eyes and simply smile, holding yourself high with grace and a ton of media training.
"We'd love to."
The interviewer is overjoyed as she looks between you and Dazai, taking in that affection that radiates from your false words. She grins as she goes along to ask her question.
"So, I think a lot of the fans are wondering..."
You and Dazai perk up, not even realizing that you're clutching the bottom of your dress so tighty that your knuckles are white. The interviewer looks directly at you.
"The two of you have been the most stunning couple the industry has seen in a while. Any plans for the future?"
You freeze. Ugh, not this again. You shake your head, smirking to yourself at the absurdity of the concept alone.
"Thank you, but honestly we're just taking things day by day. There's no rush between us, we have all we need right here and now."
The journalist smiles again and nods, seemingly impressed by your laid back attitude. Dazai snorts and suddenly interjects, clearly having a cheeky response to give to the crowd of journalists.
"We'll have tons of kids in the future, actually~"
Your panic is so instant that you literally laugh out loud, yet recover quickly by turning your shock into a playful glance at your lover. You manage a more sweet giggle and smack him on the chest a little harder than people would guess.
"Ooh, he's joking, of course."
The journalist rejoices, finding your banter and your overall interaction as a couple cute. The ideal power couple! Dazai grins and turns to you again, leaning in to tease you, his narrowed Hazelnut eyes piercing into you like a promise.
"Not joking. One day we're going to have a massive pack of little kids running around. And it's going to be your fault for being sooo cute~"
And with that, he leans in all the way into a million dollar kiss on your confused and parted lips. You're taken so offguard you almost fall back and of course grab onto him a little tighter... and run your fingers through his disheveled hair you forgot to nag him to cut... As the cameras go off like crazy, you wonder if it's worth ruining your public image for a while just so you can slap him harder than you ever have before.
Everyone's cooing and you're fuming, so you settle for a quick thank you and goodbye as you drag Dazai off the red carpet and into the car. He's giggling the entire time, of course. As soon as the door shuts out the screaming fans watching you drive off, you turn to Dazai and whisper ardently.
"What was that all about?! We didn't discuss this prior to-"
"... You liked it."
"Huh?"
"You liked it when I kissed you."
You scoff, though it sounds like you're choking.
"I did not. I just did what I had-"
"... And you want to have my babies. That's adorable, how devoted of you!"
You smack him on the arm but he's smiling like a cat who's had too much catnip, too far gone into his delusions to care about the repercussions. Love is love, after all...
"I think we should break up, like officially. You're nuts. The press won't let that go, Osamu."
He perks up, snapping out of his stasis and crinkles his nose in disapproval. He shakes his head, his hand on his chin as if in deep thought. Dazai mutters, barely above a whisper.
"... We won't actually break up, though."
"And why not?"
"Because in about 60 seconds we're going to kiss again and you'll be clinging onto me the entire night."
You snort into a laugh, tilting your head in disbelief. The car slowly comes to a halt as you arrive at the after party where a familiar roar of the crowd awaits to greet you once more. You begin your futile argument yet again.
"I don't see why I would do that."
At such a silly reply, Dazai softens his voice, looking at you like he first did when you both met on set a year ago. A lifetime ago. You're so cute when you're playing dumb. He shrugs, carefree.
"Neither do I, which is why I want to know too. I want to know what you're thinking about, if it's me."
You hate the way he sounds so sincere, like a real boyfriend would if he were trying to convince you you're just as into him as he is into you. Mind games is what it is, or at least you hope so. You really hope so.
You sigh, suddenly over the conversation as you open the car door to begin climbing out. Dazai follows suit and the roar of the crowd makes your chest feel tight as overstimulation takes over. You want to be anywhere but here and you wonder if you're having some sort of panic attack, but it just doesn't feel describable.
You turn wildly, disoriented by the camera flashes and instant fuss of the press, only to be faced by your one and only savior: the omnipotent Osamu Dazai. You don't know what it is about him in that moment, you just glide into his arms and complete the prophecy as you hook your arm with his, taking deep breaths as you finally ground yourself. It feels like the right kind of wrong, and you don't care to question it.
You feel a squeeze and a soft velvety voice whisper to you once again, you don't even have to look at him to know he's as smug as ever. But amongst the teasing, there's affection there too...
"So, am I?"
"Are you what, Osamu?"
"On your mind."
"At this point you're practically a permanent resident."
You hear him hum, a smile still present on his lips, the world simply frozen for him to continue his private conversation with you in public.
"Hmm, remind me to have you repeat that to me later."
This causes you to squeeze his arm back and murmur in genuine curiosity, finally daring to face him. He's already looking right at you, so devilish and angelic at the same time that you can't even look away.
"Why?"
"Because your time's up. 60 seconds, remember? Now come and kiss me already, the camera's are waiting~"
The photos of you two that night were the envy of couples everywhere. If only they knew how the ride back to the hotel went, it would be a scandal! Or simply the next step in your future?
40 notes · View notes
yanderes-galore · 2 days ago
Note
What do you think of this idea for a scenario? Reader losing their soul to Overlord! Husk in a poker game. It will be amazing if the reader starts as arrogant, thinking they can beat the cat in his own game. Then, after an intense match, their confidence turns to fear and regret when Husk puts the last card on the table and shows that he has won.
Warning, I know NOTHING about poker, so this might be short as I can't do any specifics :( Yet I hope I get my point across.
House Always Wins
Yandere! Overlord! Husker Scenario
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Stalking, Ownership, Soul deals, Forced relationship implied.
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Gambling is a pass time for many demons. Greed breeds arrogance and many Sinners tend to show off at the casino. You were no different...
Poker's your favorite game.
Money is a common thing to bet. You've bet tons of it and been confident in your craft. You've won many games... It's all just a fun game.
But, of course, greed drives people to get addicted...
You needed to up the stakes.
For a long time you have been trying to get yourself to Overlord status. Demons naturally crave power. Sinners wish to become Overlords... Overlords wish to become stronger...
It's a social ladder.
Confidence is such a poisonous emotion. It only brings in trouble to those who have too much of it. Having a little isn't too bad... but too much can cloud your judgment.
Husker could practically smell you as a potential challenge.
Husker had been hearing rumors of a Sinner trying to make it big in the casino. He's an Overlord who frequents this place and considers it his territory in a way. So the idea of someone else being a threat to his title...
He certainly felt he should look into it.
During your games you had always felt you had eyes on you. Your feelings were confirmed when you turned one day to see Husker watching you with intrigued eyes. He enjoys watching your games, shuffling his cards thoughtfully as his tail sways.
What a tantalizing Sinner you are... acting like you run the place....
If you want to move up in Hell's social ladder, challenging an Overlord is certainly the way to go. The idea of power... of feeding your ego... it's a temptation sweeter than any vice. As tension grows between you and the Overlord... you feel as though you're being drawn in...
Eventually, you get up from your seat, strolling to the Overlord's table before leaning on the table.
"How about we play a game?"
A bold move coming from you... dangerous too.... However, Husker didn't mind. You looked like a fun prize to toy with.
"How about we make it a deal, then?" Husker's voice is a purr as he considers your offer. You merely grin back, confidence flowing through your veins with no drinks needed.
Or... not many.
"If you win, I'll give you my soul... If I win I get your title as Overlord."
It's a bold deal, one that makes Husker laugh. Eventually he calms down, shaking your hand lightly before gesturing to sit. He could tell you were confident...
Too confident, actually.
Your naiveté is adorable.
"A fine deal... Hope you provide a good challenge to back up all that talk." Husker chuckles, readjusting his suit as he watches you sit. "Make this worth my while, will you?"
It's then chips are put out... cards are placed...
Then the game begins.
Husker finds your arrogance adorable. There's times he himself feels this way when it comes to gambling. However... He knows how to control himself for the most part...
You do not.
You are such a fun challenge for the cat. He's been trying to see how challenging you'd be since he first saw you. Now he's quite pleased to see you in action...
Even more pleased to see your confidence slowly crumble as he beats you round after round.
Each round Husker manages to slap down the winning hand. Each round he takes more chips. Each round you begin to realize what you signed up for.
"Cat got your tongue?" The Overlord in front of you teases, leaning on the table as you struggle to look at your hand. "Where's all that confidence gone? You have such a cute look on your face when you think you're going to win...."
By the last round, you can't even bring yourself to watch as Husk puts down the last card. It's a winning hand and you know it. You can hear Husker chuckle at your sudden meek behavior...
You know what comes next...
Especially when you feel a chain click around your neck, Husker looking all proud of himself.
"According to my deal, you get to be my prize." Husker grins, fangs glinting as he yanks on the soul chain.
"It was a good game, don't you think? Always great to exploit over confident fools... You put up a good fight though." Husker praises as you're brought close to him.
"Thanks for playing..." Husker purrs, claws caressing your cheek as though he's studying a precious gem...
"I think I'll enjoy my new prize, darling."
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seitmai · 2 days ago
Text
Many thoughts
You want more than just his hands. You want a lot more than his hands. And when you’re at home, and should be sleeping, or at the very least on your knees in prayer, all you can think about is his mouth between your legs. His hands on your thighs, pulling your legs further apart to accommodate the width of his body. They way he’ll rise over you, and he’ll lay his cock over your mound. Begging you to look and see just how deep he’s going to be.
😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
Slinging the covers off your legs, you down at your modest nightgown. This isn’t good enough for Ari. Not that it’s ever stopped him before, but you don’t want to be hidden with him. You don’t want to look different with him. You want him to stare at you with wide eyes because you do have skin showing. Others could see, but you are only concerned about where his eyes are. You wanted to feel pretty with Ari. Look in the way that he makes you feel.
This is such a valid feeling!
“Did you choose those filthy books on purpose?” Of course she did. Those books gave you so many ideas, confused your brain, and made you long for something you didn’t fully understand. And Ari curses himself for how feral that thought makes him. You had a filthy mind from words alone, and he gets to nurture that part of you. Nobody else.
Whoops 🤭
“She’s a sexually frustrated woman, living in a community that tells her sex is bad — yeah,” She smiles, nodding her head proudly. “That woman needed to read those books, and she needed to know that her sexuality is beautiful. Now, how has that helped you out?” “One of them has a reverse harem,” Her mouth turns into an o, and then she smiles sweetly, only a little bit sorry. “You can’t do that. She,” Ari didn’t want to betray any of your trust, even if he knew his sister wouldn’t judge you. “She knew nothing. Multiple men is going too far.”
Oh come on Ari, those are some good books 😉
“Okay, so I won’t send the one with a gun kink,” Ari knows that Hannah’s mouth is turning into a wide grin. He knows how she is, and how she enjoys making him squirm.
Hahah love her 😂
“You’ve told me far too much information. Certain things as your brother I should not know,” Hannah shrugs. Her sole reason for living is to annoy her brother, and making him uncomfortable.
Sibling core 😂
“I kinda employ her. But she arrives before the stupid heads that work outside do. It gives me a chance to,” he smiles seeing your figure coming up the driveway. “Gives me a chance to twirl her around and smile before I softly kiss her lips.”
That's so cute 🥹🥰
He’s never had to teach, and still learn. He’s never really looked at sex as anything but pleasure. Your pleasure is the most fascinating thing to see, and feel. Coupled with the sounds that you try to hide. His favorite is how reactionary your body is because you just want to feel. But your ultimate curiosity is his drug. He can’t get enough. He doubts he ever will. But he will forever try.
Urgh he is so dreamy
“I don’t feel Amish anymore though,” it’s not so much as changing for him as it is, realizing that for most it’s just a stupid little dress. For you it’s taking back your womanhood that nobody ever gave you. You may hate the dress on your body, but you’ve never been given the choice of that dress. so you don’t know if it’s any better or worse than anything else.
I love that she gets to make this choice and (re)claim their power
“Can I get waxed today?” His eyes blow wide as he stares at you. “We’re going to town, yes?” “We’re going out of town,” he didn’t want to risk you getting caught, and prematurely being shunned by everything you’ve ever know. “Then I want waxed.”
Bold choice 🫡 I would not choose getting waxed as like my first thing haha
“Ari?” He hums as he wraps the bra around your body, “I just thought I would let you know that I’m always wetter when I’m around you,” he stands up straight just to give you complete eye contact. “Do you want to feel?” he shakes his head no, but you see he desperately wants to say yes. “Can I feel you?”
I love that she just says these things out loud🤭
“I’m trying,” he presses the softest kiss to your heated skin, and your back bows, arching into him, and his free arm goes around you to hold you up. He pushes your body more into his. “Ari,” your voice is almost a sob, and he moves his hand, rolling his body into yours. His bulge adding the slightest friction and pressure to your needy cunt. The absence of sex, making this so much more appealing to him. It’s the discovery of the action.
😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
“I’m not really taking my clothes off. Just,” you exhale slowly. You’re going to be stepping out with the English, without looking like you’re Amish. It slowly sinks in. You start with the bonnet, and Ari looks towards you, gawking. You choose to ignore him, while you adjust to feeling a bit more exposed. You’ve never removed the bonnet since being with him. It feels foreign, and yet, right, “The road is in front of you.” Ari stops the truck abruptly, putting it in park. He sits back a bit more comfortably, and turns to look at you. “Ari, drive,” you don’t mean it. You want him to look. “I’m just looking,” his eyes go up and down your body, and you peer at him through your lashes. “C’mere,” he curls his finger, beckoning you to him, but also, you into him. Upon seeing him, he looks like the most tender predator. Wanting to relax his prey before he devours you, “I’m going to kiss you.”
Don't kiss and drive ☝🏻🤭
There’s so much to see. So much to taste. So much to hear. You’re just overwhelmed with everything that is going on. Smiling at Ari freely as you walk through the mall. Letting him hold onto your hip, or hand. Whatever he wants. You like that he’s an overly touchy, and affectionate person, and how alert he is of everyone around you. You didn’t even care if he asserted his dominance and claim on you.
They are both so proud of being together out and about 🥰
“You don’t have to change anything, you know that, right?” “I want to get some razors,” you respond with finality. Nobody is asking or telling. It’s what you want to do. The freedom to make decisions for yourself. The freedom to make the choice on what you want to do. And you want to shave your legs. At least once. Maybe try makeup. Maybe try writing your own stories. Or watching a movie. “I just want to try everything.”
Yes 👏🏻
“Only for you,” if you could pout, you would. All you know is you need relief. And your answers are fuel to Ari’s restlessness to just take you. He would spend on night on his knees worshiping at your altar if that’s what you wanted. He would pray for you, bless you, you are his religion at this point.
🤭🤭🤭
Your body stiffens as it heats up, “You look so pretty when you’re about to lose control. The pressure and pleasure keeps building. Climbing,” your body is on autopilot as sounds and words wail out of your mouth that you have never heard. “Not stopping up,” something in your body snaps as a raging euphoria courses through your veins like blood, “Until you jump off that peak. What a good girl,” he praises you for reaching the finish line.
His descriptions is so 😮‍💨🥵🤤
How I'm Looking At You, Part 6
Summary: you go on a date
Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader
Rating: explicit
Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, teasing, anticipation, fingering, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 6.8K
Previous
Series Masterlist
*dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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You can’t stop smiling. Smiling doesn’t even cover it. You’re always beaming from ear to ear. You can barely close your eyes without seeing Ari’s face. Feeling him all over your body. Obviously the sexy parts of your relationship are invigorating. But even without that, you still see his face, and hear his voice. His kindness, and his never judging you. Eventually in your daydreams you feel his hands all over you.
You want more than just his hands. You want a lot more than his hands. And when you’re at home, and should be sleeping, or at the very least on your knees in prayer, all you can think about is his mouth between your legs. His hands on your thighs, pulling your legs further apart to accommodate the width of his body. They way he’ll rise over you, and he’ll lay his cock over your mound. Begging you to look and see just how deep he’s going to be.
You don’t have to look, you can feel the weight of his heavy girth, and just know how deep he’s going to be. But you’re a curious kitten, and you have to look, and you chirp. Whimpering, and pawing at him because you don’t think you can take it all. And so softly, but with that deep timbre, he assures you, “We’ll make it fit.”
Everything is about the both of you. You sigh in frustration, pulling your hands out of your panties as you stare up at the ceiling. Nothing quite feels like Ari. Your fingers aren’t quite the same as his. And part of the appeal of having him with you is his breath, and his voice. But also, the weight of him. You haven’t had too much of him on you. Even just him leaning over you on the counter felt heavenly.
You’re glad Ari stopped things yesterday. Once you got away from him, and could breathe on your walk home, it felt right for him not to have had sex with you. Sex. Fuck. Rail. Rut. So many colorful words for just him coming into you. You wanted it. Wanted all of it. Wanted to explore all the things that the books talked about. And you also want to just listen to Ari about ’out there’.
The real world, outside of the community. It’s what you want. But every time you go out in public, you get gawked at because of the dress, and the bonnet. If you want to have a normal date with him, you can’t look like you.
Slinging the covers off your legs, you down at your modest nightgown. This isn’t good enough for Ari. Not that it’s ever stopped him before, but you don’t want to be hidden with him. You don’t want to look different with him. You want him to stare at you with wide eyes because you do have skin showing. Others could see, but you are only concerned about where his eyes are.
You wanted to feel pretty with Ari. Look in the way that he makes you feel. He makes you feel all swarmmy and warm in your belly. This bubbly feeling is always in your gut, and then a deep need in your core. A rapid flutter of your nether region whenever you see him. You want him. And you enjoy him when he’s not making your brain fuzzy. He’s also taken up for you which is more than you could say about the so called men in your community.
It’s easy, while you’re laying in bed to think you’re going to just ride off into the sunset with Ari. But then you hear the snore of your father, and know that you could never come back and truly be welcomed again. If they even knew what you were doing you’d be shunned, and labeled a harlot. You were no good for marriage.
To Amish man. You weren’t the most desired to Amish men, and if they knew what you and Ari are doing, you would be useless. But you’ve never been useless to Ari. So that settles that. Ari was going to have all of you. For as long as he would have you. You sigh. If Ari grew tired of you, and you couldn’t come back to the community, would you be okay? You’re more educated than most of the women here. Definitely more read — but you didn’t want to tell them that.
Before you fully decide you’re ready to leave with Ari, you need to know more. You want to feel more. You desire all of him. But his heart is what you really want.
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Ari pulls away from the window, scowling as he talks to his sister, “When is she getting there? And is it dark outside? You should drive her there, instead of her walking. And how are those books working out for you?” She giggles on the line, while Ari growls in frustration. “What?”
“Did you choose those filthy books on purpose?” Of course she did. Those books gave you so many ideas, confused your brain, and made you long for something you didn’t fully understand. And Ari curses himself for how feral that thought makes him. You had a filthy mind from words alone, and he gets to nurture that part of you. Nobody else.
“She’s a sexually frustrated woman, living in a community that tells her sex is bad — yeah,” She smiles, nodding her head proudly. “That woman needed to read those books, and she needed to know that her sexuality is beautiful. Now, how has that helped you out?”
“You’re very strange,” Ari starts, narrowing his eyes as he stares out the window. His sister is too small with too big of a personality. But Hannah meant well, even if she was too personal. “What I can say is she reads all this, and has all these thoughts running through her head, and she’s just swimming in a sexual awakening. You didn’t have to go so hard on her.”
“Like which book?” She wiggles her eyebrows again, but she knows her brother has too many lines drawn when it comes to his sex life. For her, it even wasn’t about his sex life as much as realizing her brother is falling in love. He’s been given the time to fall because you haven’t jumped into sex too quickly.
“One of them has a reverse harem,” Her mouth turns into an o, and then she smiles sweetly, only a little bit sorry. “You can’t do that. She,” Ari didn’t want to betray any of your trust, even if he knew his sister wouldn’t judge you. “She knew nothing. Multiple men is going too far.”
“Okay, so I won’t send the one with a gun kink,” Ari knows that Hannah’s mouth is turning into a wide grin. He knows how she is, and how she enjoys making him squirm.
“Have you read this?” He doesn’t know why he asked. He just blurted it out, and now that it’s out there, he can’t take it back.
“Yes, It’s quite nice.”
“You’ve told me far too much information. Certain things as your brother I should not know,” Hannah shrugs. Her sole reason for living is to annoy her brother, and making him uncomfortable.
“Is she there yet? You know her schedule?” Ari nods his head even though his sister can’t see him. He knew everything. Except what you thought about when you are alone.
“I kinda employ her. But she arrives before the stupid heads that work outside do. It gives me a chance to,” he smiles seeing your figure coming up the driveway. “Gives me a chance to twirl her around and smile before I softly kiss her lips.”
Hannah sits quietly for a moment. Smiling at knowing just how happy her brother is. “Did you get my package?”
“It wasn’t addressed to me,” he responds flatly. He’s ready to let her go so he can give you the undivided attention you deserve.
“Your girlfriend really wouldn’t like me sending that to her house,” Ari’s eyes go wide, gasping, “It’s not lingerie. Most people would just consider it a dress,” Ari moans as he imagines you in a summer dress. He didn’t even care what color, or what it was supposed to be called, but the idea of seeing so much of your skin on display for him, and having people around that could see, but could not touch.
“You are a horn dog. But yeah, the package is plenty of clothes for her.”
“Hannah, you’re very weird sometimes, but I appreciate you. Now, I’ve got to go,” she mumbles something in the background about Ari being a simp, and maybe he is. Maybe, just maybe, he found someone worth all of it. Worth going against everything he thought was who he is.
And When you walk through the door, he knows he’s been lying to himself this entire time. But only because it was never you. There was never a woman whose eyes shined up at him the way yours do. Never was there someone that had a smile that literally radiated throughout your body. And he has never picked someone up and twirled them around, and he does with you every single day. Never has had a woman fold herself into him, and giggle against his skin. It’s the simple things. It’s you.
He’s never had to teach, and still learn. He’s never really looked at sex as anything but pleasure. Your pleasure is the most fascinating thing to see, and feel. Coupled with the sounds that you try to hide. His favorite is how reactionary your body is because you just want to feel. But your ultimate curiosity is his drug. He can’t get enough. He doubts he ever will. But he will forever try.
“Good morning to you, too,” your laughter sings up at him. “So what are we doing today?”
“You’re not going to be working in the kitchen all day,” you cock an eyebrow up to look at him, and he bashfully looks away. You’re not quite sure why it’s so cute, but also empowering knowing that you make Ari feel fuzzy. “Oh, my sister, she sent you a package. I might know what is in there, and I just want you to know you don’t have to feel pressured.”
“Did she get me a butt plug?” Ari looks away again, shaking his head with a smile, “I was wondering how close you English people can get with your siblings. Can I?” You’d noticed the giant box on his couch, but chose to ignore it. As soon as Ari nods his head, you spring into action, rushing over to the box. You’re sure whatever you’re doing is a sin, but pure excitement and joy just make sense. Someone has sent you a gift, and you’re just showing your appreciation.
The more time you spend with Ari the more you realize that the out of touch nature of your community is way overrated. You’ve never felt so much at ease as you do with him. Free to be who you want to be. He allows you to explore things you may like. Your father isn’t a tyrant like some of the men here, but he had his flaws. Sure Ari does, too. You’re sure you’ll see them eventually. But Ari seems to have your best interest.
Opening up the box, you squeal. Taking a look back at him before lifting it in your arms. “They’re going to be on the east field?” The furthest field away from the house. You’d wondered how you were going to get clothes, especially to surprise Ari, but his sister took care of that for you. He gives you a nod, and you start towards the stairs. “Can we do something today?”
“What did you have in mind, Darling?”
“A date?” He grins, and nods his head. Laughing when you squeal again. “I’ll put this under my dress. I can take it off when we get away from here?”
“I’ll make breakfast,” you squeal again. Your feet tapping in excitement before heading towards your room. He was going to be out with you in public. Laying the box on the bed, you rifle through each piece. Running your fingers over the different fabrics, and colors. Marveling at how well they look against your skin. Ari is going to get to see you without a bonnet. He’s going to see your legs, and arms, and cleavage.
He was going to see you as his equal. Nobody is going to gawk at you, point their finger, and make you feel like a science experiment. You’re going to be normal out there. You’ve always been different, and it’s honestly time to admit that you didn’t belong here. Even without Ari. You haven’t been happy for a long time. You’ve been starving for an escape, and release.
Your fingers stop on a green frock. It feels right. It will cover a bit, so you won’t have to feel too uncomfortable for your first time in English clothes. You’ve read enough books to know the thin straps will make for an easy pull down. Not that you’re expecting anything. And Ari wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with. But it could be an option.
You inhale sharply, and let it release slowly. Starting to undo your dress before you lose your cool. Glancing into the mirror, you shriek. “Ari!”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean — I didn’t want to startle you. Breakfast is finished cooking,” you bite at your lip, and nod your head. Looking at your reflection before submissively looking towards the floor, “You don’t have to change who you are for me.”
“I don’t feel Amish anymore though,” it’s not so much as changing for him as it is, realizing that for most it’s just a stupid little dress. For you it’s taking back your womanhood that nobody ever gave you. You may hate the dress on your body, but you’ve never been given the choice of that dress. so you don’t know if it’s any better or worse than anything else.
“Can I help?” He peers at you through his lashes, no bit of that predatory bear can be seen on him. It’s almost childlike, his question. Nodding your head, you spin around to face away from him. His fingers slide down the expanse of your spine. Leaving a trail of goose pimples in their wake, and making breathing more difficult.
It’s too quiet in this tiny room, and you’re sure that neither of you are in taking oxygen. He unfastens the safety pin, and lays it on the dresser. Pulling apart your dress, he watches the heavy fabric fall to the ground, and he finally exhales on your bare skin. The warmth of his breath heating up more than your skin. Peeking behind you, he’s in such deep concentration. Struggling to keep his hands by his side as he stares at you in just panties.
“I have to,” you gulp, wrapping your arms around your bare chest. “I need to put on the other — the other - other panties. Will you choose a set?”
He clears his throat, nodding rapidly as he turns to walk to your drawers. Before you had water to separate you and Ari. Now you have nothing. A bed mere feet away, and you feel so vulnerable in this amount of undress. “What about white ones?” You whisper, ‘yes’, and give him a smile as he holds them out to you, but you shake your head no. “What is it?”
“Can you put them on me?” You’re a little minx that has his cock throbbing, and swelling in his jeans. Instead of responding he sinks to his knees, and you spin around to face him, and Ari reaches up. Hooking his fingers around the panties that you’ve made, he pulls them down. Stopping when you're uncovered.
Ari presses a chaste kiss to your mound before his tongue darts out of his mouth. He runs the muscle through your split, and you whimper. Gripping onto his hair, you attempt to hold him there, but he pulls back, “Breakfast is getting cold,” smirking, he pulls those panties fully down, tapping on each foot for you to lift it out of the undergarment before he tosses them aside. “Let me see.”
His eyes roam up your naked body, stopping on your face as you drop your arms. Standing completely nude before him, and he’s fully dressed. The complete vulnerability and embarrassment adding to how utterly sexy this is. His cock may be pressing up against his jeans and ready to bury himself in you, but he's still in control. His eyes follow down every curve of your body before he holds open the panties. And you step into them.
His fingertips feel like a paintbrush moving up your skin, and once he covers your pussy back up, he presses the softest kiss against your covered flesh. “Ari?”
“Yes, Darling,” he keeps his face pressed up against your core, breathing your scent in deeply.
“Do you think I should shave?”
“I truly do not care,” that didn’t help.
“Would you show me?”
“How to shave your pussy?” You nod your head, among other things. You wouldn’t mind if he just helped you shave everything. He grunts as he stands, “Is that what you want to do?”
“I’d like to try it. Maybe I should wax it?”
“As long as you know, I don’t care. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”
“Can I get waxed today?” His eyes blow wide as he stares at you. “We’re going to town, yes?”
“We’re going out of town,” he didn’t want to risk you getting caught, and prematurely being shunned by everything you’ve ever know.
“Then I want waxed.”
“Okay,” giggling, you wrap your arms around his neck. “Let's finish getting you dressed. And we’ll go eat.”
“Ari?” He hums as he wraps the bra around your body, “I just thought I would let you know that I’m always wetter when I’m around you,” he stands up straight just to give you complete eye contact. “Do you want to feel?” he shakes his head no, but you see he desperately wants to say yes. “Can I feel you?”
“Darling, you’re killing me here. But go ahead. Touch me, and see just how your teasing ass has got me all riled up this early in the morning,” your eyes roll up to meet him. You’re constantly reminded of just how giant he is compared to you. How much he towers over you, and that thought alone makes you want to melt into him and let him hold you all day. “Go on,” he pleads.
Your hand lifts, and barely grazes over his bulge, causing his eyes to flutter. A haggard breath pushes out his lips, and you let your hand consume him. Laying your hand over the tight to the angry cock of Ari. You gulp at his size. The warmth. The pulsing. He is so heavy. Whimpering, you try to grip him through his jeans. Smiling when his mouth drops open. “You look pretty like that,” Ari opens his eyes to smirk at you.
“I don’t know if you can fit inside of me.”
“It’ll be difficult,” he whispers before cupping your pussy quickly, and you struggle to breathe, “Shh,” he steps closer to you, using his nose to pet over your neck. You lean, giving him easier access, “Breathe.”
“I’m trying,” he presses the softest kiss to your heated skin, and your back bows, arching into him, and his free arm goes around you to hold you up. He pushes your body more into his. “Ari,” your voice is almost a sob, and he moves his hand, rolling his body into yours. His bulge adding the slightest friction and pressure to your needy cunt. The absence of sex, making this so much more appealing to him. It’s the discovery of the action.
“I’ll make it fit if I have to,” his voice is broken, and you pout up at him. Even just his breath on you is such a taunt of something you desire, and don’t understand. “Darling, you should get dressed, so we can eat, and go out for a long long day.”
“Okay,” he steps away from you too soon causing you to sway back and he chuckles. “Don’t be cruel.”
“I don’t think I’m the one being cruel. You’re standing there with nothing but a bra and panties. I know you’re soaked, heated, and throbbing. And you just hand your hand rubbing on my cock. Who is cruel now?” He stands there smiling at you as you reach for the dress you intend on wearing.
“I want this to be a surprise,” he bows, and leaves you alone to get dressed again. Wondering exactly what you’re going to look like. What you’re going to feel like. He is desperate for you, and also getting turned on more by the waiting. It’s an exploration of who you are, and what your body can do. It’s everything. And so much more than sex. It’s primal. It’s — love.
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“Should you be watching the road?” He looks quickly back to the road, but his eyes switch towards you again. He is struggling to keep looking at the road when you’re in the process of shedding your Amish dress. It’s unfair that he can’t watch, “Ari!”
“What?”
“I’m not really taking my clothes off. Just,” you exhale slowly. You’re going to be stepping out with the English, without looking like you’re Amish. It slowly sinks in. You start with the bonnet, and Ari looks towards you, gawking. You choose to ignore him, while you adjust to feeling a bit more exposed. You’ve never removed the bonnet since being with him. It feels foreign, and yet, right, “The road is in front of you.”
Ari stops the truck abruptly, putting it in park. He sits back a bit more comfortably, and turns to look at you. “Ari, drive,” you don’t mean it. You want him to look.
“You’re distracting me by looking so beautiful,” your cheeks flare with heat, and you bashfully look away. Being able to feel his heated gaze on your back. The tension and heat is palatable in this small cab. “Are you going to take the dress off?”
Inhale. Exhale.
Inhale. Exhale.
Turning your back to Ari, you peek over your shoulder, “Can you help again?” He responds by reaching up to the safety pin. Undoing it slowly before he slides his hands under the dress at the neck. Grazing over your skin as he removes the potato sack from your shoulders. His throat is so loud, gulping and trying to show some restraint with how much of your skin is showing.
Lifting up, you pull the ugly thing off you. Twisting straight in your seat, you stare out the windshield, struggling to look at him. “Should we not be driving?”
“I’m just looking,” his eyes go up and down your body, and you peer at him through your lashes. “C’mere,” he curls his finger, beckoning you to him, but also, you into him. Upon seeing him, he looks like the most tender predator. Wanting to relax his prey before he devours you, “I’m going to kiss you.”
“Okay,” and his lips slot against yours with no warning. Taking the last breath out of your body. It’s so soft and sensual, and you want more. You maneuver yourself onto your knees, inching your body closer to him. Closer. And then his hand pulls you harder, wanting you to be on top of his faster. He guides you to straddle his lap, and his hands settle on your hips, coaxing you to gyrate on him, and you take more. Rapidly rolling your hips, and moaning at the feeling.
Ari’s tongue tickles on your lip, and you open up. Granting him access, while your lungs scream for air that you don’t want to give them. You don’t want to waste any time apart from him. If you pass out from the lack of oxygen, it will be worth it.
“Get out of the fucking road!” The car behind you blares on their horn, and you jump away from him. Not embarrassed as much as you’re giggling. Your body is on fire. Slicked up, and humming from him, “Move!”
“I told you that you shouldn’t stop in the road,” Ari rolls his eyes as he puts the truck into gear. Letting it roll slowly down the gravel. “Do you think they know?” The last thing you want is to barely get out of the community, and someone see you grinding on Ari while making out with him.
“Nobody is ever going to know. And nobody should even care.”
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There’s so much to see. So much to taste. So much to hear. You’re just overwhelmed with everything that is going on. Smiling at Ari freely as you walk through the mall. Letting him hold onto your hip, or hand. Whatever he wants. You like that he’s an overly touchy, and affectionate person, and how alert he is of everyone around you. You didn’t even care if he asserted his dominance and claim on you.
You watch every woman here. Seeing the way that they walk, and talk. How they react with their significant other, but there is one thing that bothered you all day, apart from the awkward and exhilarating waxing. It had been a wonderful day with Ari smiling and laughing with you. Even getting to try on some more dresses for him. And still one thing remained.
“Do you have a bathtub in your house?” Ari’s brows lift up. His smile crooks to the side, and he nods his head.
“I also have running water in my house, but we don’t have to tell anyone that. Why are you asking, Darling?”
“I’ve never shaved,” he nods. When silence surrounds Ari, it’s a lack of not knowing what to say, or how to approach you. “Do you have razors at your house?” he shakes his head no. “We should get some razors. And the creamy stuff.”
“You don’t have to change anything, you know that, right?”
“I want to get some razors,” you respond with finality. Nobody is asking or telling. It’s what you want to do. The freedom to make decisions for yourself. The freedom to make the choice on what you want to do. And you want to shave your legs. At least once. Maybe try makeup. Maybe try writing your own stories. Or watching a movie. “I just want to try everything.”
Ari is his usual self. Smiling and nodding his head.
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This could cut you. It’s supposed to rid your skin of hair. A little bit of hair. Not too much because it’s only scratching the surface. But how does one hold their leg? How are you supposed to do anything when the water feels this nice? And you didn't have to boil it, you just got in and it’s fascinating.
“Ari?”
“Yes?” His voice is way too close. He’s just on the other side of the door, and you’re in here with bubbles and a razor. The door is now his enemy, but it’s separating him from you, “Darling?”
“Can I cut myself with this?” He’d never forgive himself if you cut your leg.
“Yeah. Do,” you hear a slight tap on the door, due to his head pushing on it. “I mean would you — um like, what I mean to say is…”
“Can you help me?” The door opens immediately, and you thank the bubbles for covering you up. Between his look of shock, and his roaming eyes, you feel beyond exposed. And you like it, “That was quick.”
“I was leaning my head against the door. I’ve been a bit concerned,” he doesn’t look concerned. He looks horny. His pants tenting again as you lift your leg. “I’ve been very very concerned with your well being, and not knowing what to do, or how to help.”
This is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Bubbles cover your curves, while leaving just the right amount of skin exposed. And your leg propped up on the edge of the tub has him ready to blow a load just looking at you. He’s been on edge all day. First it was just removing the shell of a life you are ready to leave behind, and now it’s you looking like a siren, and guiding him to his death.
But today, it was the way that dress swished around as you walked. Or when you would bend over, and it would hike up your body. He slyly stood behind you so you could browse the shelves. Nobody else was going to look at you, but he did look cheekily. Imagined himself rucking the dress up to the swell of your ass. Maybe even press his hard length into your warmth. You made today difficult, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
And then, your little minx self had to have a hot dog. Had to. You insisted. Did you understand how suggestive that was, and it shouldn’t have been? He was ready to push you to your knees, and make you swallow every inch of his cock just so he could see tears in your eyes.
He’s currently exhausted because his thoughts range from purely just watching you discover your likes and dislikes, to the depraved thoughts of him sinking into your wet heat for the first time. The tears, the stretch, the inevitable blood, and the way that you’ll look up at him in confusion and love. Feeling beyond full with his girth, but hopefully you feel the — the something from him.
He can’t wait until he gets to kiss all over your body. Spreading so much passion over your skin. Making you soft and pliable. Spending so much time getting you worked up and relaxed that you open up easier. The taste of your skin is going to be heavenly.
“Ari, just breathe,” you giggle, biting on your lip like the cutest devil he’s ever seen. Dipping his hand into the water, he gives you a little splash. His own laughter erupts in the bathroom. “Isn’t that what you tell me?”
“Yes, but you don’t need to be using my words of wisdom against me,” you have truly rendered him speechless, and he wants to do this with you every single day for the rest of his life.
“Does it bother you that I’m in this bathtub naked?” He shakes his head. There is nothing about this moment that is bothering him. Making his resolve a bit harder, yes. Making his body uncomfortable with the wait, of course. And he’ll continue to wait.
He looks at you through his lashes before he holds up a hand, “Gimme your hand,” you do as you're told, and he presses your soaked bubbly hand on his crotch, “Do you think it bothers me?”
“I think you should get in the tub with me,” his eyes slowly close, and he takes three calculated breaths. “Nothing has to happen. But wouldn’t it be easier for you to sit behind me and show me how to shave,” Ari breathes a few beats before he’s lifting the bottom hem of his shirt. Stepping himself, while you hungrily watch.
Standing up he undoes his jeans, and rips them down. You don’t cower away. You stay staring at his body in awe. Your eyes follow the lines of his chest, all the way down to his cock that is at full mast. “You’re not going to touch me just yet. Scoot up.”
You lean forward, and let him settle behind you before you melt into his chest, “This is nice,” he’s so soft as his hands explore your curves. Ari ghosts his lips over your temple. His ministrations are so slow and calculated. His nose nuzzles into your neck as his kisses up the sensitive column, “I’ve never taken this much time on a woman.”
“How many were there?”
“None matter now,” you try to remain calm. Try to not let it bother you. Would knowing make it any better? Men like Ari didn’t come around often. And sure you have his attention now, but how long would it last?
Lifting up his left hand out of the water, you play with each of his fingers. Using your own to outline the digits, to see how much bigger his hand is than yours. “Ari, I don’t know if I want multiple partners.”
“I just want you.”
You aren’t sure if he understands. You want him, and still need to protect your heart. “No, I mean — I don’t want to sleep around. I don’t think that I would want to,” you sigh. Just let it out, “I want sex to mean something. I want it, but I’m glad you didn’t give it to me the other day. I want just one person.”
“I can live with that,” twisting your neck, you move your vision over his face, “I told you, I’m not in a rush. I’m enjoying this more innocent part of our relationship,” there is nothing innocent about this. It’s raw, and heated, and vulnerable. “And there’s so many ways to get off without sex. There’s so many things for us to talk about. And I believe I said I’d shave your legs. Put your leg on the ledge.”
His cock is throbbing on your back, and your heart and pussy are beating against each other. The low slow vibrations are a stark difference to the rapid pace of your heart. Confliction doesn’t even begin to explain the battle between your brain, heart, and aching core. The way he spreads the creamy shaving gel on you is like a drug.
You yearn for him in ways you have never yearned for anything. Your brain is so fuzzy, and your body wants, no, needs friction. It starts grinding on him of its own accord, and his growl on your ear does nothing to dispel the feeling. It desires even more. “Let me shave you first, and then I’ll relieve you.”
Whining, you struggle to hold still. Letting Ari pull the razor so carefully up your leg before he cleanses it in the water, and you’re back to wiggling, and moving. It’s becoming too much for you to focus, “Ari, I can’t,” you sound like a whining child, but you can’t help it. It hurts, you want some relief so bad. You are quivering with so much need. So much desire to have him, even if you also want to wait.
Ari doesn’t answer with words, he lets your leg fall into the water, rinsing it clean before he places each leg on either side of the clawfoot tub. the calloused tips of his fingers ribbon down your body before falling between your legs. Instead of going directly where you need him, he teases the apex of your thighs. Blowing heated air on you when you whimper out his name.
“You’re so fucking needy.”
“Only for you,” if you could pout, you would. All you know is you need relief. And your answers are fuel to Ari’s restlessness to just take you. He would spend on night on his knees worshiping at your altar if that’s what you wanted. He would pray for you, bless you, you are his religion at this point.
You take a sharp breath in as both hands move to your quivering cunt, and your body lifts up at the lightning that radiates from his fingertips. The intimacy of having him so close to you, and the only barrier is the water. It’s like you and Ari are finally fusing. You can think about the brain and heart parts later. Right now it’s just Ari.
“How is that?” He asks, pulling you apart, exposing your swollen clit, and he slowly rubs over it. “You like it?”
“Uh huh,” you liked it too much. Even if he’s going a bit too slow and gentle, he’s giving you where you need attention. Fulfilling too many desires, and not enough.
“You’re in a tub of water, and I can still tell just how slick you are. You’re so frustrated you can’t think, hmm?” You nod your head, and his movement is so swift you don’t even realize his finger circles your entrance, “It’s not enough, is it?” Judging by your actions, it’s not nearly enough, you’re body is screaming for his cock, but your mind is begging to go slower. He won’t be fucking you today.
“No. It’s not enough. Mmm!” His finger plunges into your warmth, and your body lights up. Your brain is blacked out, and your body is high as a kite. His palm flattens on your sensitive nub, while he moves himself in and out of you. “More!”
Adding another finger, you sob his name. Your body starts to follow his lead, pulling him in deeper. Faster. Harder. It could be crazy, but you want the burn, and stretch of feeling full with him. That added finger makes you feel so full of Ari, “More. Ahh!”
Ari adds a third finger with difficulty, and holds himself still. Kissing over your shoulders, and up to your neck while you fuck his fingers. Bucking over him just like nature wanted you to, “There you go. There’s my good girl. Taking three of my fingers just like a sweet little whore. And look at how needy your greedy little cunt is. Stretched so much for me,” you grind down harder. Desperately trying to race to the finish line, and never wanting it to stop.
It’s exhilarating that you get to make yourself feel like this. That Ari is giving you the ability to act on your desires. Your breasts bounce over the water, bubbles slosh over the side of the tub, and you just move faster. Envisioning what it will feel like to fuck him. What he will look like when your pussy is wrapped around his cock. Sleeving him in your velvety walls.
You get so close. Too close, and it overwhelms you. Panting, you stop. It’s enough. “Oh no, you don’t,” his fingers stab into with so much speed that your toes curl. Eyes rolling in the back of your head as you launch your body upwards. “You were so close. That wasn’t an orgasm. You keep going. Pushing yourself. Not stopping until you’re blind with pleasure, and forget how to breathe.”
Your body stiffens as it heats up, “You look so pretty when you’re about to lose control. The pressure and pleasure keeps building. Climbing,” your body is on autopilot as sounds and words wail out of your mouth that you have never heard. “Not stopping up,” something in your body snaps as a raging euphoria courses through your veins like blood, “Until you jump off that peak. What a good girl,” he praises you for reaching the finish line.
He still fucks himself into you, but the movements are slower. Softer. He coaxes your body down from its high. Waiting for your vision to clear back up. Ari peppers kisses all over your shoulders before you start to relax. “What does an orgasm feel like for you?”
“I’ve never had an orgasm inside of you, so I don’t think I’ve reached my pentacle yet. It’s explosive, just as yours. It’s otherworldly. It’s the best drug. But while you're still relaxed, put one of your legs back, and let's shaving,” how he could think of something so silly at a time like this is beyond your thinking. But you do it.
You lift up your leg, and he smears the cream back on your body. Sliding the razor up your skin, and dipping it into the water to clean it. You could take a nap in his arms. Nothing has ever felt quite so comforting like being in his arms post orgasm. The tenderness to your core, makes you smile. Ari had been three fingers into you. And you pray that you continue to feel him later. Giving you a reminder that it wasn’t a dream.
“Shh,” he’s so soft in your ear, and you try to open your eyes; they’re just extra heavy today, and your head jars backwards, “Get some sleep. I’ll finish up here, okay?” You respond with a nod of your head, “Will you let me dress you?”
You give him a nod, but smirk, “Will you look at my pussy?”
“Of course I will,” your mouth quirks up into a sleepy smile, “I gotta see just how stretched out I had you, okay?” As vulgar as it sounds, you didn’t care if Ari took it upon himself to look at your pussy as he dresses you. You hum in response, hoping he understands that you’re completely okay with him doing it. You want him to look.
Want him to see what’s his.
All his.
Only his.
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londondungeon2 · 2 days ago
Text
IN BLOOM. jade leech
He had not expected to see you at all during the duration of his birthday party. This, he was fine with. You are recovering after all and should remain in bed. Though, Jade supposes his act is not subtle by the way his twin keeps eyeing like watching a dog off a leash, making sure he won't run off.
tags: mild hurt/comfort, birthday bloom event, drinking & talking, established relationship, pre-canon to Got You.
word count: 2060
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He is not being subtle, is he?
Too many physical clues have given his twin insight that he is not doing mentally well. He can pass off the fidgeting with the wooden shaft of his broom to nerves over flying. His dual-colored eyes flickering over to the lounge’s clock might just be him wanting to be out of the spotlight. All those little quirks can be shrouded by a false truth, but Floyd won’t believe a single one.
Jade preserves despite this inner schism between his twin and himself. The dialogue that Shrimpy’s a big girl and she doesn’t need ya coddlin’ her, Seven, you’re latchin’ on like some parasite, get a grip. Which would be fiercely combated by the dialogue that I’m her boyfriend which should put an end to discussion but probably wouldn’t.
So, neither of them discuss it because why fight on our birthday?
He gets through the interview and the broom-flying without a hitch. Even when he teethers himself a bit closer to the safety of the ground, he manages to do it all efficiently and effectively. Though all the stomach-knotting worry, it is an impossible task to stop the smile that cracks off his pursed lips when his twin tries to snatch his Birthday Bloom hat.
For the majority of this evening’s party, Jade has been biting his tongue to hold back excuses to leave. If he took a bathroom break, it would give him ample time to – at the very least – poke his head in his dorm room. Then, he thinks about how much that is a dog owner excusing themselves early from the party to let the mutt out; then, he thinks about those stout, pearly gray parasites from home; then, he thinks himself out of his idea.
He is fiddling – that is one of his more apparently anxious habits, always grasping at the nearest thing to twist or rub between his fingertips – with the white roses sitting elegantly in his broom’s bouquet when he sees what he was not expecting to see. Birthday gifts and surprises truly don’t stop coming until midnight? Because at the entrance, there you stand.
Kalim’s proclivity towards partying has never benefited or inconvenienced Jade much before. It might have caused a few stand-alone memories to pop, but nothing other than that. Right now however, there is a slight relief coursing through him due to Kalim leaving the party early to attend another.
Your attention will not be spread so thin. Because after you are done scanning the glittering decorations, your tired eyes fall upon him first with the crushing weight of acknowledgment and scrutiny.
You smile. It is tiny and disappears right when it flickered alive. Expression quietly somber, the uncharacteristic of it is quite jarring. None of the guests are even noticing you enter beyond himself and Floyd – who for the first time all night, finally turns away and stops watching him like he is a dog off a leash, about to sprint at the next opportunity.
When you land, you sit pressed leg to leg against one another. Despite how thick the robes are, indigo cotton like a shield, he feels the weight of you leaning against him like a fallen building most. Pressure under the Coral Sea is suffocating; the crude mimic of the sensation done by you is comforting.
“I’m not crashing the party, am I,” you ask into the pattern of golden swirling keys and crows on your boyfriend’s cloak. “Thought you guys would be done by now.”
“So did I. Truthfully, there is not much left to be done.” Which is why it has been frustrating that Floyd was not letting him escape.
“Whaaa,” you whisper softly, “no, you gotta party till you drop. There’s no other way to celebrate a birthday.”
“I see,” Jade tuts. He looks down at the crown of your hair resting by the corner where his magestone sits on his birthday uniform. “You don’t particularly look ready to get up and dance with me. How unfortunate.”
Like a feline, you rub your cheek deep into the dreamlike scene embodied on his outfit. The entire wardrobe line does look like these birthday boys were plucked from dark night skies. It would not be surreal to imagine you collapsing into him and falling asleep, like a meteor fizzling out on earth.
Instead, you murmur, “I just woke up from a nap. Give me a second.” Your hand reaches out and grabs Jade’s milkshake glass that is full of Boozy Blue. He watches through what isn’t blocked by your hair as you take the miniature umbrella he left on the edge and begin to twirl it in your fingertips. “You won’t be able to keep up.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“No. Just a promise.” A cough splits apart the end of your sentence.
Deliberate, Jade points his focal attention towards the lounge. Only a few stragglers are left in the almost concluded birthday celebration. Even Azul has already retired so really this should close up soon. Gazing, Jade finds that Ortho Shroud is among the stragglers and he happens to be impolitely staring at the both of you.
A twitch passes over Jade’s upper lip. He surmised that he knows exactly what those traffic-yellow eyes are taking in, calculating the diameter and shape of the bruises left on your neck.
He goes to reach down, pet along the side of your face, and cover your neck from any peering audience when something hits his fingers. Your heartbeat … it’s pounding. Like a drum. So powerfully loud that it almost seems to disrupt the air around you. Is it not uncomfortable to sit upright like that when your heart is seizing up in premature cardiac arrest? He should rest you down further on the couch so you may relax until your heart stops trying to break out your ribcage.
Had you just woken up from a nightmare? Jade’s hand lands on your shoulder, sailing past the spot he was seeking to conceal. If he touches there, there is a rising probability that you might seize up.
He flexes his grip on your bicep and you lean deeper into his uniform, both of you trying to fuse into each other’s warm touch. Running his tongue over needle-pointed teeth, Jade asks after a quiet minute of cuddling, “May I ask that you fulfill a promise to me on my birthday?”
“Of course.” You stir to look up at him with witchcraft eyes. A jovial smile pulls your lips, ready to please, as you twist the little umbrella, guaranteeing, “Anything for the birthday boy.”
“Never. Never go into Ramshackle without me.”
Your lips fall flat. That thunderous heartbeat — that Jade can almost graze as it lies thin and delicate across every plain of your skin — skips a beat. “Jade —.”
“Please,” he tries to keep despair out of his voice but knows by how you flinch that it was inadequate. “Please, never go into Ramshackle again.” It feels selfish to ask a person with your disposition to be shackled or forbidden from a certain place, but it would ease his own pounding heart to never find you in such a state again.
After a moment of silence, you pull away from Jade and place down the umbrella. Your furrow brow makes him think you are going to leave, walk straight out of the party. Instead, you reach into your pajama pants pocket. “I promise, I won’t ever go into Ramshackle again. But, I had to go in there yesterday because I had to retrieve this.”
Between the gate of your index and middle finger, slightly obscured by your howlite ring, you hold up something slim and shiny. One could almost mistake it for a sturgeon scale and when Jade was younger than eighteen, he probably would have made that mistake. Now older, freshly turned twenty today, he knows that you are holding your lucky guitar pick in your hand — one of the three original possessions you have from your alien world.
“Why didn’t you —?”
“I didn’t think it would be right to ask you for your help. It’s my pick. It’s my problem. And I didn’t want —.”
“Nonsense.” Jade grasps the wrist holding your treasure and says firmly, “It would not have been a strife to go with you, I promise.”
You go huff with a closed lip smile. So it goes. Your head falls delicately and looping hair covers up the skin-deep necklace of plum and black that you wear. An insidious accessory.
The first thing you eat after waking up from your nap is a plum that has gone bad. Everyone has left the birthday longue, even Floyd who had ruffled your hair and told you that ya still owed him a birthday gift. You had smiled; now you are frowning while the feeling of wet, rotten curdles lying in your mouth upsets your taste buds.
You find a napkin and spit into it. The pattern of it matches the birthday outfits with their golden crows and golden keys and golden swirls. In the ribcage of your napkin sits a squishy heart of discolored yellow, half-chewed plum. The color reminds you of those science videos wheeled out of a rickety table, showing off pale yellow cholesterol in the veins and pale yellow puss seeping out infected eyes. A snail-trail of old salvia falls from the heart and glides over your palm.
Comatose, you stare at the bruised fruit cradled in the night-sky napkin before Jade pulls you out of your melancholy by setting down the tea you asked for.
Unsure why you were staring so vividly and tracing each rutting mound of half-chewed fruit, you fold the napkin over your rejected bite and inform your boyfriend, “The fruits gone bad. Did Azul forget to get rid of old stock?” You doubt he did but you are simply asking to fill up conversation space.
His eyes flicker curiously over to what you hold out to him: inners that are rotting in a slimy brownish, pale yellow. “Perhaps he did.”
Before you can get up to do it, Jade takes the plum from your hand and disposes of it in the nearby trash. He leaves you with your napkin; perhaps because he did not see you spit up instead of swallow your bite. You hold it in your hand, over the top of your knee, as wetness seeps through the thin cover of night.
“This should wash the taste out of your mouth,” Jade says, sitting down and pushing the tea he prepared towards you. He has already made sure it has cooled to the perfect temperature.
Meticulous, you think as you lift up the fragile chinaware. It washes through the bruises that have been left in the inner-workings of your throat like a heated river. “Thank you, baby.”
“It is no trouble.”
You squeeze the fruit-heart in your hand, just once for good luck. Truthfully, you don’t know if you will be able to sing again. Too terrified to try, you have been avoiding even humming to fill up silence, worried the tone might be off. Sacrificing your health had seemed natural when you went back into Ramshackle to gather the last belonging that you left behind.
Bowing your head, you sigh. The atmosphere, now that everyone is gone, is so serious. You loathe serious atmospheres and always hope the future has no more in store for you. Always, your hopes are dashed.
So, you try to switch the conversation, “Your flowers are pretty.” You’re curious if he picked them himself or something like the ‘Magical Pendulum’ or another inane sorting device chose them.
Jade glances at them just as you say. “You’re in bloom. Twenty is the cusp of adulthood.”
He smiles handsomely. “Such a notion makes it sound like my previous years had little significance.”
“Well, not like that. But you got internships coming up. Everything has to … turn serious, you know.”
“You must be loathing your next birthday.”
“Hey! I’m staying nineteen forever. I don’t know about you but I’m not ever coming out of my teens.” A chuckling rumble spread across your arm as Jade laughs at your quick nudge. His witch’s hat tilts with his mirth.
Both of you think — unbeknownst to the other half — things should stay like this. Immortal flowers that will never rot. Always in bloom.
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tsartistry · 2 days ago
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I love the Niobe kidnaps Lester AU! I’m already so invested in it! But I have many questions…
1. How does Leto (aka mama Leto) feel about this?
2. What is/how are the Apollo kids feeling? Are their powers not working as much or what?
3. How is Olympus doing? Is someone doing apollos work? Are they trying to investigate or are they trying to pretend that nothing is happening?
4. Did Lester/apollo gain their powers back before Niobe kidnapped him? And since he’s being brainwashed did he forget he does have powers if he gained them again or are they just completely gone?
5. Will Lester/apollo have a love interest?
And last question for this post I swear lol does Lester/apollo ever show signs of their powers once and awhile? Like for example if their hair starts to go blonde suddenly?
Sorry for so many questions, I’m just so invested in this AU ever since I discovered it lol I keep going back to this tag just to reread everything :3
1. How does Mama Leto feel about all this?
in a nutshell?
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For the past several thousand years, Leto's had a lot of trust in Zeus. Even during Apollo's trials, while she was begging him to end the trials and restore her son's divinity, she still trusted him. Surely if Apollo succeeded at his trials, then Zeus would keep his word and restore him to Olympus. And if he failed -- she did not want to think about him failing, but she still trusted she would see her son again. Somehow.
But now, it's not a matter of success or failure; Apollo is just gone. Leto can't find any trace of him, and suddenly Zeus isn't giving her any answers. She can't exactly bring wrath down upon the King of the Olympus the way she did Niobe millennia ago. All she can do is ask everyone she knows for help finding her son, and stew in her worry as she waits for any scrap of information.
She's not doing great.
(Whenever she finds out about Niobe's involvement, all that anxiety turns into RAAAAAGE)
2. What is/how are the Apollo kids feeling? Are their powers not working as much or what?
Their powers are weakened, but still working! Their spirits... not so much. It's not like Apollo to give them radio silence. When they ask the other gods for information, they provide no answers. But where Leto was filled with anxiety, the Apollo kids are on the cusp of despair. The only thing they're holding on to is Nico saying he didn't feel Lester die; But if that's the case, where is he?
3. How is Olympus doing? Is someone doing apollos work? Are they trying to investigate or are they trying to pretend that nothing is happening?
I hadn't thought about who was doing Apollo's work, but thinking about it now, it's probably either Hermes or Artemis. Maybe they switch off? Hermes has a precedent for handling Apollo's animals, and Artemis would want to ensure her brother's position as sun god is cared for and not usurped. She saw what happened to Helios, after all.
But Olympus is tense. Zeus is convinced that Apollo went into hiding, perhaps hoping that Zeus will come begging for him to come defeat Python --
Oh, yeah, Python's still around, by the way! He's still digesting the power of the Triumvirate, and still has complete control over Delphi, and there is now a risk of him using his power and position to start taking control of fate. With every day that passes, the serpent's power grows, and the tension among the Olympians builds.
Unfortunately, fate has decreed the absent Apollo would be the one to defeat the serpent. But Zeus will not stoop to begging Apollo to come back; That would be showing weakness! He's fine waiting out his son's little tantrum. He's just making it harder for himself, after all; Every day Python grows more powerful. But that's Apollo's problem. Why should Zeus be worried about an evil serpent possibly taking control of fate itself?
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Yeah, Zeus is panicking. He pretends to know where Apollo is, but he's as clueless as everyone else, and it's terrifying. Even in the guise of a mortal, what could make an entire god disappear so suddenly? And could Python pull the strings of fate to force the Olympians to fall?
Despite his efforts to look cool and collected, the other Olympians are starting to see the cracks in his facade. Poseidon especially is starting to smell blood in the water, so to speak.
4. Did Lester/apollo gain their powers back before Niobe kidnapped him? And since he’s being brainwashed did he forget he does have powers if he gained them again or are they just completely gone?
I wouldn't say they're gone, but I would say he does not have access to them. The power still exists, but he cannot reach it.
The brainwashing and the lost powers are two separate things that were done to him. Niobe actually did some magical shenanigans (with the help of a Greek goddess I won't name just yet, it's someone who has never appeared in the Riordanverse) to actually remove parts of Apollo's soul to prevent him from accessing them.
5. Will Lester/apollo have a love interest?
I don't have any plans to write any romance for Lester, but who knows, maybe as I'm writing I'll get struck with inspiration! But the story's already complicated enough, haha, romance might tangle it up even more.
And last question for this post I swear lol does Lester/apollo ever show signs of their powers once and awhile? Like for example if their hair starts to go blonde suddenly?
Yes! While he's lost access to most of his powers due to Niobe's meddling on top of Zeus turning him mortal, she overlooked his music powers! It's actually a plot point that he can use music and rhythm to guide people's emotions and movements.
I like to imagine that if he practices hard & concentrates, he can trigger an entire diegetic musical number. The kind where he can get a whole crowd singing and dancing together. Unfortunately that sort of thing is difficult to convey in writing.
Sorry for so many questions, I’m just so invested in this AU ever since I discovered it lol I keep going back to this tag just to reread everything :3
aaa that makes me so happy!! Please don't feel bad about asking questions, it helps me fill in details I hadn't thought about before :D
speaking of Apollo's music powers, here's a bonus doodle
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maddy-k-reads-all-day · 2 days ago
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In the garden. 
The first puzzle was really hard. Riley says that usually the answer is hidden somewhere within the episode, but Amanda wouldn’t let her replay it to check. Good thing I take notes. Sophie thought to herself. She looks through her notes. She looks around the room. There are several posters on the walls and memorabilia from all of Hameln’s different productions, with notes around them of different actors and their family members that went missing during or after production, among other odd notes about the show. Her mother told her once they realized Hameln was associated with the cult they started doing a deep dive on all their creative properties outside of Amanda. The results of this research are posted all around in sticky notes and long stapled printouts taped around the room. Like a controlled chaotic masterpiece. That’s mom for you. Sophie thought with a smile. Of course, most of the merch and stuff was from Amanda the Adventurer. Which… didn’t make things too easy. Sophie figured Amanda was going to hide it somewhere within the merch. Finally, she notices a specific poster. “Amanda the Adventurer! New Show! Starring Rebecca Colton and William Scott. Soon airing on Hameln Jr!” The poster showed Amanda and Wooly, sitting on Apples and Peaches respectively. Could this be it? Sophie recognized this poster. It was a collectors edition poster mimicking the show’s initial announcement ad. It was crazy popular and really hard for her mother to get a copy. Sophie feels the poster and realizes there’s a weird shape behind it. She gently peels back the tape on the poster revealing a safe and two tapes. One being an Amanda episode titled: In The Garden. The other being a bright cyan colored tape. Never understood why they chose to record all their evidence against Hameln on colored tapes. Sophie chose to watch the cyan tape first. It appeared rather unassuming, simply being a collection of Amanda the Adventurer commercials. There’s got to be more here… something I’m missing. Sophie thinks to herself. Oh well… I don’t have much free time. I better watch the next tape now. Sophie puts the tape in the machine. 
“Hi friends, I’m Amanda!” Amanda beams.
“And I’m Wooly!” 
“Gee it took you a while to find that tape huh? I hid it well, didn't I?” 
“Well… it only took me half an hour to find it.” 
“HUH?” 
“I had like 5 assignments due today… I had to do the dishes… and the laundry… then I watched this other tape first… so yeah… not too hard.” 
“Grrrrrrrrrr…” Amanda grumbled. 
“To-today we’re planting seeds to grow in our garden!” Wooly announces, changing the subject. 
“That’s right Wooly! Say, what kinds of plants do you like to grow?” Cacti Sophie responds. “You’re weird.” Amanda responds. The tape glitches.  “First we’re going to need to go to the store to buy some seeds, can you tell me where the store is?” Sophie clicks on the store. “Great! Let’s go-go-go-go-go-” the tape glitches again. Wow, these are so old. Sophie thinks to herself. 
“Wow there’s so many options, what are we going to grow?” Wooly asks. 
“Vegetables!” 
“Vegata..bles?” Wooly repeats. 
“Yep!” 
“In our new garden?” “That’s right!” Amanda beams. Wooly looks disappointed. “What is it?” 
“Nothing, I just thought we’d be growing flowers.” Wooly mumbles in an annoyed tone under his breath. 
“Flowers are boring! Vegetables are flowers you can eat!” 
“Wha- No! Flowers are pretty! They’re nice to look at and they smell nice!” 
“And they die wither and rot come fall. Good idea Wooly!” Amanda beams. 
“Wha- no!” Wooly sounds angrier at this then he should be. He stops himself and takes a deep breath. “How about this? I get flowers, you get the vegetables. Okay?” 
“Okay…” Amanda seems a little confused and uncomfortable. 
“So can you tell me where the---------” The tape glitches as Amanda and Wooly talk over each other, both glaring at each other with annoyance. 
“Sorry, you go first.” Wooly chuckles nervously. 
“Can you tell me where the vegetable seeds are?” Amanda smiles. Sophie clicks on the vegetables. “Great job!” 
“Can you tell me where the flower seeds are?” Wooly asks. Sophie clicks on them. “Thank you!”
“Now we need to pick out which vegetables we want! I want to make some BLTs at some point. So we definitely need some lettuce and tomatoes. Then maybe some cucumbers so we can have salads.”
“Honestly… that doesn’t sound so bad.” 
“Can you tell me where the seeds are?” Amanda asks. Sophie clicks on all three seeds with no problem. “Good job!” Amanda smiles.
“As for flowers I’m thinking daffodils, daisies, and… lavender…” Wooly closes his eyes wistfully. 
“Lavender?” 
“It smells so good. And I remember once hearing that it can help with anxiety and sleep!” Wooly explains, “um… not that I have any problems with anxiety or sleep or anything. The point is it’s known to be a very calming flower.” 
“I guess that’s interesting…” Amanda sighs. 
“Can you tell me where those are?” Wooly asks. Sophie clicks on the correct flowers. “Yay! These are going to look so pretty in the yard.” 
“Now let’s go home so we can plant these seeds!” Amanda tells us. The tape glitches back to the back yard. “I have all the gardening tools laid out here. What do we need first?” Sophie clicks on the shovel. “That’s… right…” Amanda says, then she shakes it off. “First we need to plant the seeds!”
“Be sure to look at the instructions on the back!” Wooly instructs.
“Wooly… there are no instructions on the back…” “Oh… there are in real life though…” Wooly sighs. 
 “First we dig a hole about this deep, then we put the seeds in…” “I’m starting to think we should’ve gotten plants instead.” Wooly thinks out loud. 
“Well the store only has seeds, Wooly.” 
“Ah… haha… Bummer.” 
“Anyway we planted the seeds. Now what do they need?” “Fertilizer!” Wooly announces. Water Sophie types. 
“Water!” Amanda beams. 
“What? No, they'll grow faster with fertilizer!” Wooly protests. 
“But the only place we can get that is the farm.” Amanda replies. 
“No! I don’t want to go baaaack there!” Wooly panics. Amanda looks… a little guilty. 
“Yeah I know. Which is why we don’t have fertilizer.” Amanda sighs. 
“I’m sorry…” 
“It’s fine Wooly.” “What do we use to water the seeds?” Sophie clicks on the watering can. “Riiiight.” Amanda says slowly. She starts to water the plants. 
“Don’t water them too much!” Wooly warns. 
“I know Wooly, I got this.” Amanda sighs. “There. Now we wait.” Amanda and Wooly stand there waiting for a bit. 
“Huh? Usually when we do this episode they grow immediately.”
“It’s probably because we don’t have fertilizer.” Amanda deduces. “Guess we’ll have to… get some.” Wooly looks terrified. “Wooly, the episode won’t end until the plants grow!” Amanda reminds him. 
“So? We can play some more right?” Wooly laughs nervously. Amanda bits her lip. 
“How about this, you stay home and keep an eye on the plants so the birds don’t eat the seeds.” Amanda suggests, “And I go to the farm.” 
“Okay…” Wooly sighs. The tape glitches to the farm. But both Amanda and Wooly are there. 
“Oh… I guess… the show won’t let you do that.” Amanda notes, she sees Wooly panicking, “It’s just the farm stand, not the petting zoo. You should be fine. We’ll be quick.” Amanda reussers him. But he says nothing. “Wooly, you can talk, you know.” Amanda says. 
“Oh, okay…” Wooly mumbles. 
“Can you tell the farmer what we need?” Amanda asks. The “farmer” is a motionless scarecrow, placed between the crops and the farm stand. Sophie types in fertilizer. “That’s right! Now let’s go home!”
“Meow!” 
“Aww… it’s a lonely kitt-” The tape glitches back to the backyard.
“I’m fine? I’m… fine. I’m fine!” Wooly gasps, fully relieved and almost a little excited. Amanda looks away. “Haha! Hahahaha! Take that stupid farm! Sheep says Baaa! No more! Haha!” 
“Glad you’re happy Wooly.” Amanda sighs tiredly, “But uh… the flower bed is all dug up.” 
“They’re what now?” Wooly stops in his tracks. Amanda checks the beds for seeds.  
“No no no no! The birds ate all our seeds! Now we’ll have to plant them all OVER again!” Amanda screams. “GRAH!” she stamps her foot. 
“Don’t worry Amanda, we still have more seeds, we can plant them again!” Wooly reussers her. 
“Yeah but aren’t you frustrated?” Amanda asks, “Aren’t you mad?” 
“I… I uh…” Wooly freezes up, “Let’s get these… seeds… pla-planted…”  the tape glitches and the seeds are all planted again. “Whew! That was a lot of work! Now let’s add fertilizer!” Wooly smiles. Sophie clicks and drags the fertilizer to each plant. 
“Now what do we use to water them?” Amanda questions. Sophie clicks on the watering can. “That’s right.” 
“Can I water them this time?” Wooly asks. 
“Sure Wooly!” Amanda says cheerfully. Wooly creates little moats around the holes and waters them. 
“Gotta make a moat to protect the castle from invaders!” Wooly laughs. The tape glitches and the plants are watered. “Now we wait.” This time, Amanda and Wooly watch as the plants slowly rise from the ground. “Yay! Now we can pick our plants!” Amanda beams and the tape ends. Now to find that next tape… Sophie thinks.
Authors note: Finally managed to finish this one. Have been doing a lot more editing on the recent episodes. Trying to figure out the future of this fic series lol.
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astro-witchery · 3 days ago
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Crazy that there is a whole part of tumblr that abhors astrology and actively try’s to dismantle it due to it being considered (to them) harmful and discriminatory.
I think this speaks to a couple of things. Some of y’all’s practices are discriminatory, even if you don’t realize. I also practice Western Tropical Astrology so I understand my takes might be a little bit different. But I’ve heard a lot of POC and LGBTQA+ folks say that they aren’t represented enough in astrological interpretations. This can be changed and you, as people learning and practicing astrology should do better to accommodate all people. Some also use the zodiac archetypes and interpretations to actively put people down and make others feel like shit. Stop doing that too. Generalized statements (in and outside astrological spaces) are just never a good idea and could definitely be contributing to the narrative that astrology is harmful.
I think also people do not understand the history or what goes into calculating astrology. This isn’t something new that people started doing. Greek philosophers used astrology, many people and civilizations throughout history used some form of astrology or astrological observation. It involves a lot of math and calculations. It’s also just a philosophical exercise and for a long time was the only answers that our ancestors had about anything. It’s blends math, astronomy, spirituality, and psychology all together and gives humans another perspective into the human experience. There’s really nothing more to it than that.
Like all tools and a lot of spiritual tools, people will misuse them. They can even use them for harm. I’m sorry to anyone who had a bad experience with the astrological or spiritual community. There are good astrologers out there that I promise are not problematic and actually have had astrology better their lives and the lives of those around them.
That’s all I wanted to say. I was just surprised to see such animosity geared towards astrologers. I’ve never seen stuff like that before and wanted to share my 2¢
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 hours ago
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Well if given how the anime will adapt the Manga, it makes me wonder about the savanaclaw adaptation given how many delays due to the artist's personal life that octavinelle Manga came around and is now have overblot Chapter before Savanaclaw does. I wonder if the author will have time to finish it and given how heartslabyul will release in October 2025, it might take awhile to animate savanaclaw.
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[Referencing this news!]
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Decided to put these together because the topics were similar enough and I have similar advice for both asks. To briefly clarify the second ask, I believe the Anon made a typo and meant to say "Yana Toboso was NOT involved in the anime's production". This is because Yana made a tweet recently stating that she and her team were surprised and honored that they were making an anime adaptation based on the manga.
Now, about the first ask: we are not aware of what the manga and anime creation process looks like for Twst. Yes, the Savanaclaw manga has had a number of delays, but we cannot be sure if this impacts the anime at all. For example, we don't know how much of the Episode of Savanaclaw anime is even done yet. We don't know if the anime team is going to be in talks with the mangaka to coordinate things. We don't know when the Episode of Savanaclaw will air (and for all we know, it could give the mangaka ample time to finish up). There are many things we do not know, so it would be VERY hasty to conclude anything now.
Regarding the second ask: Yes, it does seem like Yana had no involvement in the anime. This, however, should NOT be taken as an immediate sign that the anime will be poor quality or that the anime will deviate from the main story in large (and bad) ways. Nothing of the news we've heard so far would indicate any sweeping changes. This is equating a past occurrence with something that has yet to even happen without even knowing if the production circumstances are even the same between them. The only thing we know that is linking the animes of early Black Butler and Twst is Yana's lack of involvement. This doesn't account for ANY other factors in production, and it's also assuming that Yana's mere presence makes a product good--and, conversely, her absence automatically makes a product bad. I don't think this is the way to go, as it's jumping to conclusions based on minimal evidence and it's putting way too much weight on Yana's shoulders to carry the quality of the Twst anime.
And that brings me to the thread linking together not just these two asks, but a lot of the anime-related posts and asks that I've been seeing as of late: fearmongering and doomposting. Lots of it.
As I’ve said multiple times now, it's fine to be hesitant about the anime. I'm hesitant of it myself! However, let’s not draw preemptive conclusions or fret over what are ultimately hypotheticals. It’s so far off, and we have zero of the actual final product to look at and judge the quality of. I'm seeing so many people make mountains out of molehills, working themselves up over nothing, assuming the worst-case scenarios... 💦 and again, all of this based on little to no information. I can't help but that time and energy could be better spent on other fandom efforts or things we actively enjoy. It's valid to be anxious about the anime and how it presents something we care so much about, but putting those feelings in a public space paints the fandom in a bad light. It gives the impression that we'll jump the gun and claim something is bad before letting the product speak for itself. If you're a current Twst fan that is excited for the anime, it may not feel so good seeing others theorizing about how bad it will be. If you're a potential new Twst fan seeing this stuff, you'd feel very unwelcome or unwanted. I worry this will fester and create divides in the community... unintentionally creating an environment that isn't fun to be in, and that's the antithesis of what I think fandom should be. I guess I'll end on this note: There is a difference between being healthily skeptical and assuming the worst of a production. Please take a moment to reexamine your concerns about the anime and ask yourself "Is this a reasonable fear?", "What am I basing this off of?", and, "How, if at all, will this affect my own enjoyment of Twst?" If it gets to be too much for you, then please, please step away from social media (where a lot of these fears are being touted) and take a break. Do something you like, take a walk, whatever. I just beg of you, don't allow yourself to be consumed by feelings that will bleed the fun of fandom out of you 💦
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valve3nthusiast · 22 hours ago
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(I've talked about Drift fucking crystals before right? Like there's no way that I haven't at least once right?)
How it all starts, of course, is with Rodimus making dirty jokes about some of the more... suspiciously shaped crystals in his collections, which Drift scolds him for. None of his crystals would be used like that! It's disrespectful!
Drift definitely doesn't spend the next couple of weeks staring at the ceiling of his room, furiously jacking off, while carefully avoiding looking at his collection. Or even thinking about it. Absolutely not. (Damn it, Rodimus)
So when he's next at an alien market and perusing the crystals and gemstones section, he definitely has no ulterior motive for buying an absurdly large harmonic quartz suspiciously cut and polished into the shape of a textured spike. Complete coincidence. (Listen, it was a really high-quality quartz for dirt cheap, he had to take that deal, ignore his bank account numbers)
And Drift is simply making a smart and tactical decision when he hides it in his subspace until he gets back to his room. Rodimus would probably never shut up about it, and maybe even steal it to try and do... lewd... acts with it! Truly, he is just looking out for the safety and dignity of all involved. Minimus would be proud
It's just... curiosity, that makes him take out the new quartz before he starts... "tending to himself," so he can compare it to his spike... only to see if it actually is that phallic!
The harmonic quartz is certainly pretty, shimmering with many vibrant colors. And large. And thick. And at the base of the center pillar, there are still some small crystalline formations, lovely and polished to a shine, but decently sharp enough to make you want to keep them away from anything... sensitive
A healthy dose of self-delusion really can't cover for the fact that once Drift realizes the crystal is so generously proportioned that it's nearly twice as big as his spike, his valve starts dripping. Any internal justifications of "academic interest" or "morbid curiosity" can't cover for the way he's now rubbing the blunt tip of the quartz across his glowing node and flushed valve folds
And, all right... maybe... he's been thinking about this more than he should. Maybe, getting it out of his system would make him stop. Maybe putting that blunt, unyielding crystal into his valve won't feel good at all, and he won't lie awake thinking about it anymore, so he should just put it in and be done with it-
Drift's loud moan shatters both the silence of his room and his hopes of not enjoying this, as he forces the massive crystal past the first caliper of his valve. It's somehow nothing like a spike, and yet better, his valve desperately clenching around the too-large quartz. The burn of his first caliper squeezing down on its unyielding, solid mass is exquisite. (It's possible there are some other things he has been avoiding admitting to himself, every time an injury made him revved up with charge that he did his best to ignore)
And, well. Maybe once Drift's collected himself, he ends up staring at the ceiling again, thinking about the empty ache in the rest of his valve, and the sunk cost fallacy, and how the rest of the crystal might feel if this is just the tip, and the merits of literally just saying "fuck it."
So he does. Fuck it, I mean. Vigorously, with great enthusiasm and some mild self-injury. His needy little valve was designed take the softer living metal of a spike, or something similar. The hard quartz he's forcing his valve open with is nothing like that at all. The sweet thrill of pain lights up his array with more charge than he ever really wants to self-reflect on
If Drift could even hear himself right now, he'd probably be embarrassed by the noises he's making. The aching burn of each new caliper he harshly pushes through has him moaning like a virgin taking their first spike. But he's too distracted by how fragging full he feels, one hand brutally pistoning the quartz into his abused valve, the other furiously rubbing circles on his anterior node
Fragging hell, when he finally manages to force the whole thing inside of him and grind the fat, blunt tip into his ceiling node, he shrieks like he's being fragging murdered, and accidentally overloads himself into unconsciousness
As Drift wakes up the next morning, still aching around the crystal he didn’t have the chance to pull out, valve lips scratched and bleeding from the rough edges at the base of his new favorite false spike, he looks at the ceiling and thinks: maybe I should start a new crystal collection...
(and, oh primus, if I get an infection from this, no one is ever going to let me live it down)
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pinpilinpaux · 3 days ago
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Alexia Putellas on her interview with SPORT
Are you happy?
How deep! [laughs]. Yes, yes, I am very happy. I had a really hard time during the injury. Until that moment I was lucky that I had never been injured before and it was really fucked up. I worked a lot to be able to have these opportunities now and enjoy competing again. I just want this: to win, to compete, to train, to help the team. I'm happy and it shows on the field, doesn't it?
Did that beautiful goal against Madrid with the outside come to you by itself or did you have time to think about it?
I didn't think about it at the time, I think a lot on the pitch, but I often flow and that's what came to me. Then I analyzed the play and Misa was already cutting me off, and with the inside I don't know if it would have gone in, because I had to wait a little longer. Kika left it for me to finish with the right, but I chained the stride and it fell to me on the outside.
It couldn't be any other way, your 199th goal with Barça to surpass Luis Suárez and enter the club's historical podium. It's not to compare, but to put what you're doing as a midfielder into perspective.
When I started at the club, I never imagined I could reach almost 200 goals. It's a figure we've usually seen more in strikers. I work on many things and efficiency is one of them. I know that I have at least one per game and I have always tried to help the team in that way. I don't think I do it only with goals, but with many other things, but I always work to make it happen.
When you see all this, are you aware that you are one of the best players in history or you don't think about it?
No, no, no. I don't think any of this. I think these things are valued, just like titles and everything you can contribute to a sport or a club, when you are no longer there. Right now I just think about the next game and then the next one. And so on throughout the season.
How did you receive the affection of your teammates after achieving this milestone in Madrid? They celebrated with you and then sang to you in the locker room.
I had nothing in mind, to tell you the truth. And in fact, whenever I score, I don't know what to do. I get carried away by the adrenaline. At that moment I was almost not even aware that it was goal 199, the celebration was more because we were winning 0-4 against Real Madrid at their home. The team competed very well in the match, the level was very high. We all got together on the bench and celebrated together.
Everyone who works with you says you're doing very well physically and, above all, mentally. Where are you at now?
I think the word that best defines it is stability. I knew that after the game against Manchester City. The reaction was that: of balance, that everything was fine and was going to be fine. I felt like I have throughout my career and it's a feeling of enormous tranquility.
When you signed your renewal, after a long negotiation, the phrase 'Alexia is Barça and Barça is Alexia' was repeated. What does this say to you?
A lot. But I think that Barça is not just one player, it's a lot more, that's why it's the best club in the world. But if someone thinks like that... I feel flattered.
During the injury, were you thinking 'I'm going to come back' or 'I'm going to be the best again'?
There are many phases in a process like this. In my case, I went from being at a very high level to having to learn to walk. I don't know if people are aware of what an ACL operation is, but if they are not very apprehensive, they should look it up. They do everything to you in this operation. And when you have to relearn how to walk and run, you don't think about anything else but the immediate. You have surgery and you can't even put your plate on the table to eat.
Totally dependent...
You need help for everything. And I didn't think about anything else but getting back to playing. Then you burn through the stages. When you achieve one thing, you go for another, and another. I'm like that with everything and I was also like that with the injury. And then you think about working to get back to the level you were at.
I really liked your speech in the locker room before the final in Bilbao. You were a substitute and you talked about the importance of all the players on the team, those who were going to play and those who were not.
These injuries also make you learn a lot. I have been in roles that I had not lived before, both when I was injured and when you return to the team and you see that you need to get into the rhythm, that you need time, but at the same time you don't have time because this is the elite. And today I understand much more what a teammate who is not playing a lot or who does not have confidence in herself can feel. And this is something that the injury has also given me.
What did it mean to you to be back in Paris, among the ten finalists for the Ballon d'Or?
It was a different day in my life. Gratitude and happiness for the recognition. It's not why I play, but everyone likes to be recognized if you've done your job well. It is something very subjective, because everyone has their own opinion and everyone votes their own preferences. I just dedicate myself to helping the team, to contribute my virtues inside and outside, and if they recognize it, I am very grateful, to be honest.
It's a long season, but you're off to a great start. Can you see yourself on the stage of the Châtelet for another year?
Ugh... I don't know. It's true, I don't think about it. I'm only thinking about the next game and, at the very most, what I'm planning in the long term is titles, trying to fight for the four again. And in the summer, the Euro. After that, the season is over and it doesn't depend on me.
Two Ballon d'Or for you and two for Aitana, four in a row. Is it a reflection of how well Barça is doing?
One hundred percent. When I won them, I felt it was a prize not only for me but for all of us, for the project. And now I still feel the same way. You have been winning for four years an award that is perhaps the most prestigious and this says a lot about the club, the team, the teammates, the staff, what is created, the fans.... It is the award that makes visible everything that is behind it.
After the classic you wanted to highlight the work of Pere Romeu and all the staff. How have these first months of changes been?
At the beginning we felt, because this is Barça and the demand is maximum, that we needed to finish fitting pieces, ideas and really define what we want to be. And I think that with the passing of these months we have seen perfectly that in the end all we needed was time and I am very happy for the team and also for the staff.
Hence your words...
I think that the preparation phase of the coaching staff can often go unnoticed. In the end, we see everything they work on so that we can execute it on the field, everything they transmit to us and the many tools they give us so that we can almost flow. And I wanted to highlight this after a victory like this, because it was also, and to a large extent, their merit.
When you started playing in Sabadell, you were mixed in a team with girls of different ages and you were always one of the youngest. Now you have a special admiration from Barça's youngest players: Pina, Jana, Vicky... What can you tell me about this rising generation?
The future that awaits Barça is incredible. It is also true that there is more and more competition and it is difficult. When I arrived here, I didn't have or need that adaptation, because it wasn't the same. Back then, when you were 17 or 18 years old, you were already playing every game. And now, perhaps, it's a little different, but the demands are also different. I have a very good relationship with all of them and for them I'm not a mother, because I'm not a mother because I'm 30, but I'm like an older sister. I have a great time with them.
Is it possible for you to tell us why you call Vicky 'stitch' or is it a secret?
[Laughs] Let her tell you, let her tell you.
We write it down for Vicky, then.
Write it down for her, write it down for her.
Now the Champions League is back, which did not start well in Manchester, but you came out to say that no one should doubt Barça. And the team responded.
We really want to be in the quarter-finals and be first in the group, and for that we depend on ourselves. We have two away games left, which won't be easy, and on December 18 City come to Montjuïc. Given how the game went there, we are looking forward to this one.
The other day, against St. Pölten, the girls from your Foundation, Eleven, came to Johan to surprise you. Were you excited?
Very much so. It's a very special project. It was born when I broke my knee, I had a lot of time and it helped me to get through it a bit, because I had a lot of time, which is something I'd never had before. I broadened my vision and started to create things. Everything I do, I do it because it is born from me. It fills me with pride to see that it is already a reality and that I can help other people thanks to what life has given me.
Do you think about a future after your soccer career?
No, especially now that I am very happy. I don't see myself in any other way than as a player for the moment.
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running-in-the-dark · 7 months ago
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had my first real appointment with my new GP today (the time last month when I had to go in because of my middle ear infection doesn't count) - it was fine! not great, not bad, just fine. they had to take my blood too and surprisingly, the kinda rough nurse got a lot nicer once she realised how scared I was (usually they just tend to start talking to me like I'm a child).
then I saw that a package I was waiting for got delivered while I was at the appointment - to one of my neighbours. except it didn't say which one. there's 5 other families in this house, so that was a bit scary. I decided to just ask the people in the other ground floor apartment, and luckily they did have my package! the lady that opened the door was really nice. I'm glad I managed to do that - it was hard, tbh. really scary. but I just had the thought that I should at least ask those people and then basically ran out immediately so I wouldn't have time to think about it (and it worked).
we're getting closer to finishing our kitchen. just a couple things left now, like the hanging cabinets (that's the part that scares me a bit - I already don't trust those anyway, but if I know I'm the one who put them up... well that kinda makes it even scarier 😬). I'm excited for it to be done though - I really need to unpack the rest of our stuff before the chaos makes me go insane.
it seems that this period of having a slightly higher level of energy is over, unfortunately. I knew it wouldn't last, and it was like a month this time! that's impressive. but I'm still pretty upset about being back to having to sit on the couch most of the day. it's not great timing, there's so much to do still :( and I'm just permanently exhausted again, so it'll take forever.
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puppyeared · 5 months ago
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i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you
#im reading that post that says artists are directors of audience reaction and not its dictator:#'you cannot guarantee that everyone viewing your work will react as you are trying t make them react. a good artist knows that this is what#allows work to breath. by definition you cannot have art where the viewer brings nothing to the table ... this is why you have to let go of#the urge to plainly state in text exactly how you think the work should be interpreted ... its better to be misinterpreted sometimes than#to talk down to your audience. you wont even gain any control that way; people will still develop their opinions no matter what you do#im thinking abt this again cuz i was thinking maybe the thing that lets adventure time work so well the way it does is cuz it doesnt#take itself too seriously that it gives the audience enough room to fuck with subtext and then fuck with them back yknow. i think it was#mentioned somewhere that they werent even planning to run with the postapocalyptic elements that are hinted in the show but changed their#mind after the one off with the frozen businessmen and dominoed into marcy and simons backstory. on the other side there are stories that#explain too much to let the story speak for itself and i think it ends up having to do more with the crew trying to lead ppl in a certain#direction than expand on what they have and i see a lot of this with miraculous. like when interviews and tweets are used as word of god in#arguments and it becomes a little stifling to play around with it knowing the creator can just interject. u can say its the crews effort to#engage with its audience but it feels more like micromanaging. and none of this is to say there ISNT room for stories that spell things out#theyre just suited for different things. if sesame street tried abstract approaches to themes and nuance itd be counterproductive#a lot of things fly over my head so i need help picking things apart to get it- but it doesnt have to be from the story itself. ive picked#picked up or built on my own interpretations listening to other ppl share their thoughts which creates conversation around the same thing#sometimes stories will spell things out for you without being so obvious abt it that it feels like its woven into the text. my fav example#for this might be ATLA using younger characters as its main cast but instead of feeling like its dumbed down for kids to understand why war#is bad its framed from a childs point of view so younger audiences can pick up on it by relating to the characters. maybe an 8 year old#wont get how geopolitics works but at least they get 'hey the world is a little more complicated than everyone vs. fire nation'. same for#steven universe bc its like theyre trying to describe and put feelings into words that kids might not have so they have smth to start with#especially with the metaphors around relationships bc even if it looks unfamiliar as a kid now maybe the hope is for it to be smth you can#look back to. thats why it feels like these shows grew up with me.. instead of saving difficult topics for 'when im ready for it'#as if its preparing me for high school it gave me smth to turn in my hands and revisit again and again as i grow. stories that never#treated u as dumb all along. just someone who could learn and come back to it as many times as u need to. i loved SU for the longest time#but i felt guilty for enjoying it hearing the way ppl bash it. bc i was a kid and thought other ppl understood it better than me and made#feel bad for leaning into the message of paying forward kindness and not questioning why steven didnt punish the diamonds or hold them#accountable. but im rewatching it now and going oh. i still love this show and what it was trying to teach me#yapping#diary
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