#feeling very red string of fate about them

[acphengene]

String of fate

₊ ⁺ pairing: Niki x reader

₊ ⁺ word count: 3.2k

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate au, fluff, angst, brotherly love

₊ ⁺ note: it’s fucking finally here. i like them, they’re cute. also can you tell i’m Jayki biased?

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺ Masterlist

Niki was a dancer first, and a person second. Anyone who knew him, knew that. He moved like water and learned choreo faster than any other dancer under Hybe.

But he was also a brother, a good friend, and most importantly a hopeless romantic.

You wouldn’t know it by looking at him, but he was. The little red string that was wrapped on his left pinky, was the one thing that would one day give him his fairytale ending.

He had been so excited about it since he woke up with it on his thirteenth birthday. He just never really talked that much about it.

The thread was tight and always stretched towards the horizon, a clear indication that you were nowhere near him. But he had always wondered just how he would find you.

Everything became a little easier when he debuted. Being in Enhypen meant a lot of travels and tours, and different ways for him to figure out just where you were.

Niki made sure that the string was nearly tucked away in his pocket whenever it started to get loose, a little scared that it might end up being flossed or even break if it came into contact with the floor too much.

Logically he knew that wasn't possible, but still he liked to know he kept it safe, just in case. Taking care of that bond that connected the two of you, couldn’t be the worst thing.

To his older brothers Niki had a very casual outlook on the soulmate bonds, an attitude that said: “it happens when it happens”. But when he was the last one standing without a soulmate by his side, he became a little more desperate than he had previously been.

“Can’t we just take a trip, you know to somewhere we haven’t been before?” He asked Jay that we’re currently testing out a new guitar.

His hyung smiled at him. “What happens to my cool and collected baby bro?”

Niki sighed. “He died” and sent the older one a teasing smile.

“You’re the one who has always said that it happens when it happens. And look at all of us, you weren’t wrong. It’s your turn to be patient now.”

He avoided Jay’s eye contact, as he kept playing the same note on a keyboard that stood in the room before him.

“Easy for you to say with G on your arm every day” Niki answered as he rolled his eyes.

Jay just chucked. “Come, let’s go make some curry and distract that mind of yours”

He followed along, but not before giving the thread a pull, a little reminder that he was thinking of you.

You loved the little red string, and red had quickly become your favorite color. What you didn’t understand was your soulmate's inability to stand still.

Almost every hour of every day, he was jumping around like a flea. The string was constantly bouncing or moving from side to side, often in the same movements over and over again.

It had left you wondering just what he was up to each and every day. You knew your own moved around a lot too, dancing would do that. But did he even notice how much he moved himself?

Of course ballet was much slower movements and much more elegant than whatever he was doing.

But you guessed whatever he was up to made him happy, he had after all been doing it since the very first day, and happiness was important.

Every now and then you would feel a tug on the string, and you knew he was thinking of you. It always warms your heart.

Another day, another tour stop. Niki was excited, the string had never been as loose as when he excited the airplane.

If it hadn't been for Sunghoons birthday gift last year he would have his arms filled with the red string at that moment. Hell he might even end up tripping over it.

His soulmate-less brother had always been the best at giving both advice and gifts that were soulmate related, and that year Niki had gotten a little compas looking thing that when attached to the string, railed it into it's compartment and kept it safe. It was one of the most precious gifts he had ever gotten.

“You think she’s here?” He asked his older brothers with hope in his eyes. Some shrugged, others nodded, but Heeseung just pulled him down to him and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Let’s find out shall we?”

It was still early in the morning, and he was just lounging around until it made sense for them to do their first sound check and overall runthrough of the choreo.

And as the clock struck ten, the string started to move. A tiny bit to the left, then to the right. You were so close now that he for the first time could see how you were moving through the city. Unlike the very subtle movements of your hand movements he had gotten used to, this looked different, it even felt different.

It distracted him. He forgot everything from lyrics to moves as the hours progressed, earning him a lot of teasing comments from his members.

At some point he buried his head in his hands and groaned. “I don’t know if I can do this guys” he said with an apologetic look.

Sunoo laughed. “You obviously can’t, but I’m surprised you have lasted this long”

Niki smiled. “Yeah, me too”

“Just go,” Jungwon said with a smile. “Find her and bring her to the hotel for dinner”

The youngest nodded enthusiastically, before he all but ran off stage. He didn’t make it far before he heard someone call after him.

“I’m not letting you roam a new city all by yourself” Jay said with a smile before grabbing Nikis shoulders and giving them a loving rub.

The two of them got one of their managers to drive them until the string led them through small passages in the city. Then they took the rest of the journey on foot.

The city in and of itself was beautiful, with old cathedrals, brick sidewalks and cozy cafes on almost every corner, and a quick coffee run later the two had returned to their adventure.

Niki was quiet, more than he usually was, but who could blame him? His palms were sweaty and his eyes never left that red string that twisted around corners. He wondered if you had walked the same streets at some point.

Jay looked at his youngest brother with admiration, as he tried to let him just be, to live this moment.

The string took them to an open plaza in the middle of the city, and before them laid one of the few buildings in the world that were still home to a royal ballet. And the string went straight through its doors.

“Shit…” Jay said under his breath.

“Fuck” Niki ecchoed.

Getting to the building was one thing, the easiest step on their path it seemed. But getting in there, behind the scenes? That would be as close to impossible.

On any given day you would’ve paid more attention to your end of the string. But today wasn’t any normal day, no you were on the night of your career. Prima ballerina for this years ‘Swan Lake’ was your new title.

Everything had led up to this, this was what you had worked for your entire life, what you had ruined your muscles and feet for, and nothing, not even the new movements of your string, could take your eyes off that price.

The day was a constant stress of rehearsals, fittings, ice baths and fittings. Your heart was beating so hard that you could feel the pulse in your entire body.

When you finally sat down in the hair and make up you gave the string a little pull. It was as tight as it had always been, and you couldn’t help that little ping of hurt that he, whoever he was, wasn’t there to see this moment and to be your loudest cheerleader in the crowd.

Niki felt defeated, normally the little tug would make it all better, but how could he get into a show that had been sold out for months?

Jay had managed to score tickets to every performance that night except one, and as absolutely amazing as the two performances had been that night, you hadn’t been there.

“I’m so sorry” Jay said with an apologetic smile as he watched Niki once again moved his last piece of ravioli around on his plate as he was lost in thought.

He only shrugged. “It is what it is” he gave him a halfhearted smile. “At least these performances have given me a few ideas for some new choreography?” It sounded more like a question than anything else.

“Yeah, that is kind of a silver lining”

He lowered his head and kept it down, and all Jay could do was sit idly by as he watched his youngest break down in front of him.

It was a rare sight to see Niki cry, he put on a hard facade, something he had done these last few years, a trauma response they had all figured.

He moved to the booth and pulled him into a tight hug. “I know,” he whispered. And that little reassurance opened the floodgates.

Niki was grateful they were hidden away from all eyes in the back of the restaurant. That no one was near to witness this, the fact that Jay saw him like this was embarrassing enough.

He pulled away with an apology as he dried his eyes.

“Don’t ever apologize to me for having feelings that are so big you need to express them. I will forever be a safe place for you to do that”

Niki saw how sincere he was and he only nodded as yet another tear escaped his left eye.

A commotion in the restaurant was the next thing the pair heard, and suddenly their manager came rushing towards them.

“I got them!” He screamed. “I got them but we need to go now! It starts in 5 minutes!”

Fuck. This was it. And he had never in his entire life, moved faster than he did just then.

He moved up the stairs with a fast pace, rushing towards the top floor where his seat was located. He didn’t wait to figure out if the others could keep up, that didn’t matter. You were the only thing on his mind.

This had to be it, you had to be a part of this production, there was no other way. He had prepared himself to stand outside in the snow all night if that was what it took. But this did seem like a better alternative.

He wondered what your role was, were you someone behind the scenes, or were you like him, a performer?

The balcony had a perfect view of the entire stage, and when the string led straight behind the curtain, he knew this was it.

His legs were bouncing, he was fidgeting with every ring on his fingers. He didn’t care that his baggy jeans or his hoodie made him stand out like a sore thumb between the fancy gowns and suits.

Jay laid a hand on his thigh. “Breathe” and he tried, but it was as if all of the oxygen had left the room.

“She’s here hyung, she’s right here. I just know she is”

“And so are we”

Their eyes met. “Is this really happening?” He asked.

Jay smiled. “Yeah, it really is”

“You’re sure this isn’t a dream?” He asked as he once again looked to the red curtains.

Jay laughed. “Dreams are my mark, not yours. So yeah I’m pretty sure”

The smile that painted his lips were from pure happiness, and he looked like a tiny sun, radiating in this somewhat dark room.

And just then the lights flickered three times, an indication that the show was about to begin.

All Niki could do now was hope that he wouldn’t pass out.

As the curtains rose a calmness came over you, the world around you disappeared, and your feet started to move on their own accord as they always had.

You were home now, and you wondered if you would ever be more happy than you were in that exact moment.

He saw you, and you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. There was no one in this world that could tear his eyes from you.

He knew in his heart he looked like a star struck idiot, but he couldn’t care less.

Your elegance was unmatched and the way you moved proved to him that the universe had done him a favor. You were the other half of his soul, one he had lost before he even came into this world, the one thing he had searched for his entire life, the one person he would search for in every life after this one.

A dancer, of course you were, he thought. Who else would be able to understand his love for being on stage, other than one who shared that passion?

He knew it was opening night for this year's season which meant that he experienced this moment with you in real time. He was so proud despite not even knowing your name yet.

Before he knew it the curtains once again closed and the show was officially over. The cast stepped out when they opened once again and your smile was so big as you looked at your partner it literally took his breath away, it was as if he froze in time.

As you bowed he once again gained consciousness and he clapped and cheered louder than anyone there. He reached out and pulled on that string as hard as he could.

He watched as you took a small stumble, he watched as you reached out to grab it, and as you followed it, it let your eyes straight to him.

God he was beautiful, dressed in black and grey, messy hair and tear stained cheeks, but he didn’t seem to mind. The two of you watched each other for a second, and then you both watched as the string that connected you, transformed from crimson red to the most dazzeling gold.

He was still clapping when your tears started rolling down your cheeks and you once again took a bow, deeper this time, more grateful.

Niki had sent Jay back to the hotel after he had been approached by one of the security guard of the theater. Telling him that you would be out as soon as possible.

He had decided to go outside to hopefully calm his blazing hot cheek.

It was hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that he had actually found you. That he had listened to himself and it had been worth it.

The snow had started again and the darkness that surrounded it was only lit up by the old streetlights. He stood there, looking over the plaza as he wondered just what he wanted to say to you.

He didn’t have Jake’s mark, but he wanted it to be something meaningful, something you could be proud of.

Behind him he heard a door close and he turned in one smooth movement, as if quick turns on his heels were second nature to him. Who was he? You couldn’t help but wonder.

You stood on the top of the stairs looking down on him. Looking at that gold string, so you hadn’t imagined it.

Niki took a step forward and almost instinctively reached out for you.

He was calm, and you most definitely weren’t. You made a small jump and let out a small scream before you rushed down the steps to him.

He laughed, loudly, and the sound bounced around on the buildings, echoing it back to the two of you as if it was your own little song.

As you were almost by the foot of the stairs he opened his arms to you, and you leaped the last few steps. Throwing yourself into his arms.

He caught you, as he always would, and held you tight. Spinning you around as you both laughed.

He smelled amazing, felt amazing. He was tall, messy haired and you could feel his heart beating beneath that big puffer coat.

“I found you” he said as he finally pulled his face from the crook of your neck.

The two of you looked at each others with smiles so big that they hurt your cheeks more than the cold.

“You certainly did, and perfect timing I might say” You answered as he returned you to the ground. He kept his arms around your waist though. You didn’t mind.

“I barely made it, who would’ve thought I’d end up having such a talented soulmate that sell out her first show months in advance?”

You felt the blush paint your cheek as you looked away from him. “Don’t be embarrassed, you should be proud. It’s such an amazing achievement”

He couldn’t help himself as he brought his hand to your cheek and forced your eyes back to his.

“What about you, what is it that you do since you’re suddenly here?” You slithered out of his grip and instead interlinked your pinky with his.

He smiled at the gesture, and he quickly knew this would be how he held your hand for as long as you allowed it. Together you walked down the street enjoying the cold and finally each other.

Niki chuckled. “Eh… I’m in a similar industry” he said as he ran a hand through his hair.

He didn’t expect that he would be this nervous actually talking to you, opening up. But he was scared all of the sudden, scared that anything he could say would want you to leave him behind.

You raised a brow at him, but didn’t push the subject, you were observing, letting him take his time.

“Do you know kpop?” he asked as he kicked some of the snow that lay on the road.

“I do”

“Well, I’m an idol… And are kind of here for a tour” he stopped in his tracks and watched you smile up at him.

“So a singer and a dancer then? You’re making me look bad”

He chuckled, as he felt the weight fall from his shoulders. "I don't think that is possible"

"What kind of dance?" You asked, and he couldn't help himself so he spun you around.

Niki watched as your body reacted by pure instinct, how you stepped up on your toes, even in your sneakers, how your leg lifted off the ground.

"Well definitely not ballet"

The two of you laughed together.

"Want to dance with me?" He asked as you stopped beneath one of the lights.

"I will dance with you for as long as you'll have me" You said as he pulled you closer with a smirk.

"I promise you one thing red, I am never letting you go. You have a dance partner for life with me"

So you danced there in the somewhat silence of the city as the snow fell around you. Two dancers, one soul, brought together by nothing more than a red string of fate

₊ ⁺ taglist: @why4anne @juicygirl4life @azzy02 @bluxjun @why-did-i-just-do-this @elairah @ramyeonzwithspam @floating-moon-dust @skyearby @acourtofmoonlightandstars @garrdenwonie @whateveridontcaresheesh @stormy1408 @tunafishyfishylike @sol3chu @spicxbnny @blvengene @fics-lovebot @fangirl125reader @acopenhagenarmy @tunafishyfishylike

[bitdemonic]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

𝟓 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒. 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐋, 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐓. 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃, 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 𝐌𝐄. ⚠︎ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈. 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄—𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐓. 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒; 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𓆩ψ𓆪 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 [𝐊𝐎𝐅𝐈]

↓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL ⟶ 🎴 Magic. 8oS. 10oP↺. Faith↺. Page of Pentacles↺. the Chariot. 8oW↺ [bod].

THE TEMPTATION, OTHERWISE A TEMPTRESS TO SUITORS THAT “DARE” TO INDULGE; TO MEET A FATE THAT’S FORBID. Attributes include the ability to lure their 'prey' in with just a glance, emanating tenacious sensuality, and exhibiting divinity [energetically]. Poison with legs, seeping into the thoughts of anyone's minds. Heightened emotional intelligence assists them in hypnotizing others. Seduction is an accessory, a mask of sex they can put on [“and off”] at anytime.

♰♰♰ An innate power of transformation is what this pile has. Able to demand ("command") a room with just their presence, let alone a word, they're perceived as the Magician; resourceful, magical, and opulent. Something of them is practical, as in they're adept to the metaphysical and what it may offer. LOA, glamour (or "sex") magick, visualization and scripting are familiar concepts. Witchcraft is a part of them, as it could've been passed down or learned ["through lineage"]. Genetic gifts that assist their "urges", or more importantly their fantasies. Non-conforming, unconventional ways and ideal (as they are the same). At most, this pile's aura feels mystical, untouchable and otherworldly. This kind of force can be turned off and on; felt by everyone, seen by none. Will attract "watchers" i.e. stalkers online or in real life. ♰♰♰ "Too hot to touch”; very tempting group here, even more so when they're done up to "play the part". Sensing that red, ginger (or “orange”) hair can emphasize their burn (fire). Hot! An edgier aesthetic suits them better than most, as if their mystique abruptly magnified. Deeper colors (maroon, black, and “dark blue”), smokey eyes, and smudged glitter are enhancers. Channeling woodsier scents? A scent including this note could melt into Pile One’s pheromones; they’re sensible and protective. Confidence within them is grounded, gives off older and mature. Faces contradict the assertiveness tho, some people of Pile Two have cherubic features (e.g. button nose, fat cheeks) which offers up an illusion of innocence.

LONGTERM CONNECTIONS ARE PRONE TO COME ABOUT, DUE TO CAPTURING LOVERS IN THEIR WEB. It's more of being bound than being "in love", and that's because Pile One doesn't leave them alone until Pile One says so; a pulley system only they control. At worst, this is a manipulation tactic in the hands of a former ["serial"] cheater, unless Pile One has evolved and grown out those ways. Trapped in a trance, pulled along a thin string, kept in an unopened box; partners don't conceptualize self-value when Pile One's not there. This as a scenario would be the equivalent of man pleading on his knees and to the world for his girl, like the music videos. Someone that’ll die for querent, feeling nothing but raging love. How Ari professes while admitting she’s been an anxious mess, “completely disheveled” and still wanting to appease “you” is how Pile One’s partners are.

♰♰♰ Samantha Jones in SATC is who they remind me of. Similar to her, Pile One prioritizes self-maintenance [and self-pleasure] before anyone else. Discarding dinner date plans for a night alone instead, opting out of fling appointments to mingle with friends, etc. "I gotta put myself first," "hasta la vista," and "me time" sum them up to a tee. Hesitating between shoe selection versus before asking someone to get out of bed and leave; to them partners are disposable, replaceable. Not #1 [because that's reserved for themselves], but the very bottom of the list instead. Mindset of an Earth sign, Virgo (Moon or 1H) in particular—"mother knows best". It's attractive that someone won't accept less than what they've done for themselves [already], they impress themselves. The shiniest trophy, but nobody possesses them. ♰♰♰ Querents of this pile are equipped to handle the world (plus obstacles) with a step in the right direction. I always reference "the phoenix rising from the ashes" when there's strength of a warrior present, which applies now. Pain, challenges, disruptions—there's nothing that can keep Pile One from achieving. Seduction for them stems from a "broken" place, where they shaped a future out of dust. It's possible no one gets them, but that's due to their truth being concealed. These are people that can't be read (especially at face value), they're meant to be discovered. Learned.

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴 7oW. King of Wands. 8oP. 6oC↺. Knight of Cups. 4oS [bod].

BECOMING THE MINX, “JUST LIKE MAGIC” IS A NOD ANOTHER SIDE OF THE SAME COIN; TWO HALVES OF ONE PERSON. The act of illusion is apparent, and it's potent within sexual circumstance. Skills, body, "sexuality" are magic, enough to arouse fascination in others. Ariana Grande's music portrays this visage perfectly, because Ariana is the embodiment of dual personalities. Innocent and unsuspecting until she's slipping a sexual innuendo beside her harmonies; a natural tease, because this is who she already is.

♰♰♰ In terms of sex, this pile is more prone to leading the encounter; the HBIC. How the momentum's pace is on your timing, how nothing ends or begins until Pile One's call. The demand of their instruction is seductive, it keeps "everyone" in line. Control may lessen, although it'll never fully leave. Granted, a limited amount of time to "disobey" is earned; to switch roles and have Pile One as a sub, get a taste of their authority. Seconds of pride that count towards a rush, a high that they'll only get with her, up until time's over and it's Pile One's turn once more. ♰♰♰ Not so much BDSM, but punishment is seductive; being spanked, "bit" (otherwise marked), and reprimanded. It's plausible that mama's boys or daddy's girls are prone to being on the other end—"under their hand"—because discipline isn't common. Getting told no, following directions and staying "put" keep their attitude together, something they're not used to. Pile One has bitches [or "pets"] lol. Degradation, using a condescending tone, edging and orgasm denial is a favorite.

PILE ONE’S PHYSIQUE, OR “CURVATURE” IS A HIGHLIGHT FOR THEIR PARTNERS. Their shape can resemble a peach, plump at the top and luscious at the bottom (otherwise supple breast and a soft ass). "Freakum" dresses can be a closet staple, especially when it's for a special night out—whenever they're ready to get (or "have") their way. Dipping in dark, brooding colors will heighten the allure, turn up the effect. Norma Jean's tactic to become Marilyn Monroe comes to mind, how she was able to shift: "I don’t know how to explain what she did because it was so very subtle, but she turned something on within herself that was almost like magic." "They were recognizing that this was Marilyn Monroe...even though a second ago nobody noticed her.”

♰♰♰ Clothing is a specialty and particularly when it's "coming off " (or "coming down"). Stripping out of them, dropping each piece to expose another stretch of skin; strip teases or showing off the birthday suit. This pile's lingerie should consist of lacy, sheer material such as wearing fishnets or leg garters (any form of tights tbh). The price of what they wear is attractive. It brings about this air of expensiveness, as in their aura is wealthy—abundant, self-assured and reliable. It traces back into the bedroom for sure, people can feel their income rise in just one night. Querents have the universal cheat code of being gifted ("being spoiled") in romantic connections (e.g. shopping trips and cash deposits). It's a favor for one, exchanging "secret" treasures. ♰♰♰ Pretty distinct, but tone of voice is being [heavily] highlighted; “vocal cords” are on the smoother side? Soothing almost, channeling that they’ve spoken people to sleep. Reminiscent of rum, in both taste and “singe” (wincing at the burn). Rugged (another Joel Miller reference, some querents are Southern); can hold weighted conversations with a voice full of conviction. Lol at the number of people that pine after this pile from their charm alone. “Just like magic, I’m attractive” and getting everything you want cus’ you attract it is about Pile One’s social interactions. Grounding a room with just a few sentences then flirting with everyone standing in it, golden gift for duality. Networking is quintessential considering it's one of this pile's skills; cue the stack of business cards they'd have gotten from exchanging contact information (huge).

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ A kink for teeth and biting, both them and their partners. Into biting, getting bit on the lip and skin ["until it's tender"]. Sun, Mars, or Pluto could be in mutable signs [Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces] or houses [3H, 7H, 9H, 12H]. Scorpio/8H placements included.

♡⃕ Radiant". Beaming from the inside out, immersing the world in a glorious shine. Querents are on the friendlier side or possess the traits of "everyone's best friend". Big ole gummy smiles; a toothy grin. Friend of the world, can communicate with babies (children) and animals. Bunnies as a favorite animal [or "nickname"].

♡⃕ Find joy in mischief or getting a rise out of people; the jester of their friends or family (especially cousins). Pulling stunts to scare others, harmless pranks, and cracking jokes to lighten the mood at all times. Father could have the prankster gene hence why it's recognized. Def some home celebrities, family oriented querents for sure. Thanksgiving or New Years as a favorite holiday, too.

♡⃕ "Taut" RBF's, lips could form into a thin line on many occasions. Furrowing brows whenever they're driving home a point, prone to getting into "spats" or disputes (i.e. argumentative). Could hate banter, but revel in conflict; adrenaline rushes during confrontation(s). Intelligence is golden during debate conversations if tense. Bilingual/trilingual; native language from places of birth. Anais from Gumball in terms of frustration or attitude. Could have Virgo or Aries in personal (or outer) planets.

♡⃕ Really fiery, like it's all in this reading. "Quick", not doing things before or *after* thinking (i.e. regretting impulsive decisions). Cussing; swearing a lot or while chewing someone out. "Off the rails." Although full throttle, anxiety ("anxiousness") or bad nerves get in their way often. Bass boosted, loud volume, headbanging music as it compliments their vigor. 'TYG' from Megan thee Stallion & Spiritbox.

♡⃕ "Cupid bow lips". Bottom lip being plumper than the top; "fuller". Beauty mole(s) on the face or chin, above the mouth too. Using white lip liner or concealer for a signature makeup look ("added touch"). Distinct characteristics pertaining the face; statement piece [earrings, eye makeup, hair accessories].

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL ⟶ 🎴 Reflection. King of Cups. Knight of Wands↺. Happiness. Queen of Cups. 9oP↺. 4oS [bod].

THE LOVER GIRL IS A HOPELESS ROMANTIC, A PERSON THAT’S ENCOMPASSED TO THE BELIEF OF HAVING [THEIR] TRUE LOVE. "Hopelessly devoted to you," comes to mind, a song that expresses the inner monologue this pile has ["everyday"]. Relationships can become a lifeline, a means of preservation in time of need; love is taken quite seriously, even more so if it's reciprocated. It's attractive to feel appreciated, yearned and cared for by Pile Two's energy; willing to share however many pieces of their heart if it’s necessary.

♰♰♰ Bubbly personality keeps this pile from being detected, the wide smiles and "softly glazed" eyes adds onto innocence. People can sense there's something more, carnal energy that's held from unleashing. I feel that there's Cancerian-Libran placements because the perception of them reminds me of pink bows and sugarplums. Cute, but only because their deviance is hidden ["in plain sight"]. "Naughty Girl" by Beyonce. There's more to them than meets the eye, as it's tempting others to come taste or try (lots of probing one's sexual identity can occur). ♰♰♰ Alchemy is a curated, learned skill and it's Pile Two's way to the Universe. Tumultuous rebirths are recurring, made to "force" them into shape; changing course throughout their journey is attractive. Learning and applying hard lessons in order to receive whatever they wish for. An enigma is how they're perceived, someone that's checked out when they're not immersed in another world. Going through—or "experiencing"—transformations will affect their overall appearance. Erasing an identity from the past, embracing change for a clean slate, shedding skin with hair and clothing. Their presence leaves people's blood rushing.

HIGHLY EMOTIONALLY INTELLIGENT, THEY CAN FIND THEMSELVES LONGING FOR HEIGHTENED SENSE OF AFFECTION IN OTHERS. An emptiness can rest inside them, but it's just because they're familiar with vulnerability; an "open book" if it pertains their feelings, being the only person who gets them. Honesty is a fault, because it allows the truth to be set "free". Human embodiment of the Justice card, their Judgement can sever or repair the lives ("energies") of those around. 222 and 333 are angel numbers that indicate progression in life or to urge use of discernment. "Put themselves first."

♰♰♰ Euphoric essence around their beauty, how it's a gift for their highest form. It's special—a beautiful blessing in physical features. Plush lips, "rosy" undertone(s), pleasant figure and "fleshy" areas (hips, thighs, love handles). Someone that's mesmerizing, the embodiment of Aphrodite's pearl; the birth of beauty. Shapeshifting is likely, as they've earned it with the help from above ("the ethers"). Staying true to what's on the inside and having it bloom on the outside. Dreams in human form. Being noticed [and "adorned"] for their innocence, in personality or facial features. Big, sparkly, animated eyes and "sooty" lashes; resembling Betty Boop; the fattest chipmunk cheeks (can insinuate someone's ass) and so on. ♰♰♰ Intention on Pile Two's end shows up in an authoritative sense, when they insert themselves it's because they're tired of the bullshit. Eerily similar to that of a "headmaster", otherwise strictness is a part of their love language. Coddling will only get someone so far, lol this pile's upfront; blunt, but respectful [simultaneously]. This pile won't allow people to run and duck from their problems, only "showing" the option to face them. Those same people are awakened to their fears, abilities, and unnatural desires; they've been found, truly seen. Making people sit up straight and pay attention; "IDGAF if I was late" ie. no one but Pile Two can check them like this. That spunkiness is a treasure alone, but especially cherished for stemming from "unaltered" independence. Praise and worshipping kinks could be prevalent during encounters.

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴 3oS. Ace of Cups↺. 6oS. King of Pentacles. Death. 7oC [bod].

DISARMING PEOPLE WITH CHARM—ALOOFNESS—REMAINS KEY, A COMPONENT THAT OFFERS THE BEST SURPRISE. Playing coy, twiddling thumbs or tucking hair ("biting it" too), it's a game that this pile wins easily. Nobody expects this from Pile Two, not in the slightest because they're too kind. Gentle and 'maternal', nimble like a baby mouse. On the surface, that is. I'm envisioning the slow drip of a faucet, or the articulation of a cat's paw steps—steady [and deliberate]. This energy reminds me of honey while it drizzles, erotic and warm. This pile's *so* sensual, and it drives a lottttttttt of people insane ("up the walls"). Feline, otherwise 'tactful', energies are present; acquiring or possessing skills in seduction. Mastery in peep shows, teases, and dances for sure. Mastery in peep shows, teases, and dances for sure. "We can't just keep talking about it, I want you to come inside it...I want to get wild" insinuates romantic partners don't want to wait, that they're in the mood anytime they see querent.

♰♰♰ Provocative is the best word for this group, they're able to control a room with little to no motion (unless it's on top <3). Can move mountains, crush stone, with nothing but a toe point; very powerful people. Pheromones alone are even enough, it's the sheer nature of it all, this pile's addictive. They may find that their sexual encounters will include overstimulation or force (i.e. domination) because lovers aren't capable of holding it in. Losing coherency, spiraling in Pile Two's "abyss" ("going the extra mile"). Essentially, lovers that'll believe in the red string theory after just one time together. It shocks anyone that's graced a chance to get in bed, the sexual influence is mind warping. ♰♰♰ Orgasms come super easily ("almost naturally") when given from them. Their technique(s) to have someone cumming are "sensational", soul touching and tear producing (I smell Scorpio and 12H placements lol). Definitely bestowed with the "magic touch"; skills that beckon one's climax forth. The Enchantress. People reach different heights with them, a "new peak"—reborn for existence ["again"]. People have revelations and awakenings in bed with Pile Two, in which can come about in a matter of minutes or after one orgasm (in other words, tread this force of a skill lightly). Obsessive behavior is prone to arise, 99.8% that it will, because people won't get enough. Querents knowledge on ecstasy is beyond teaching, so much that I sense it's spiritual; an "antidote" for those who aren't "well" (i.e. in heat and addicted).

BEING COINED AS 'THE BEST' SOMEONE'S EVER HAD IS TIED DIRECTLY TO BEING WORTH THE CHASE. Not that this group's only good or made for sex, more so being an expert in that department adds to their prestige. It's giving public reputation, one that's good or possibly envied; 10H prominence. King of Pentacles is the emblem of high social standing, respect and utmost value; the spread itself clarifies the admiration of Pile Two from different POVs. May mirror the 'WAG effect', but with them as the celebrity and their partner the wife. Double confirmation for emulating a cat, this is their ownership and haughtiness lmao. Wouldn't be surprised if it was obvious that querents wears ["and buys"] the pants in romantic connections, I even sense being worshipped by choice—love's in a glass case for the public to see. May mirror the "WAG effect", but Pile Two isn't the wife (they're the "breadwinner").

♰♰♰ Physique is coming in similar to Pile One (check it out if called), more pronunciation on the upper half tho. The breasts (chest) are "opulent", so possibly on the fuller cup side or give off an illusion (i.e. being big). "Full moon" is what I'm channeling which gives off that their breasts hold the emphasis on moon; Cancer placements (Sun, Moon, Mars), weightier feel, stretch marks or birthmarks across (or around) them. "Pushup bra", meaning that area is noticeable. Anatomy aside, breasts equate to maternal characteristics. Being domestic, caring for those around them, owning an apartment and a dog—signs that potential partners associate to good parenting. "With child". Breeding and having babies/getting this pile pregnant are major fantasies because they carry the imagery of how a "mother" should be. ♰♰♰ The softest people are in this pile and not just referring to vibes; skin, hair, lips, and legs are reminiscent of warm butter (which can point to glowing). I see the definition of radiance within their regime. Wearing whipped scents and perfumes of dreams, they kiss every room with succulence. A mango of a person, each part of them quenching people's thirst. Softness also indicates being a safe haven, or "stress relief", [a peace of mind] for close connections in their lives. Lol I'm even imagining a stress ball ("magenta"), like querent is a few people's security blanket. Giving out the best hugs and sweetest smile. Nothing overtly sexual, seduction is their aura. Comforting, dependable [with reason], and trustworthy; characteristics that whisper "this is a good person".

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ Humorous people, like will make an entire room fold under pressure and BOL. "Practical jokester" and "professional yapper". Dragging people along; "jittery" or full of enthusiasm. Big kid as an adult, could even giggle a "ton". Dimples, smile lines, “eye crinkles” are present. Sun could be in cardinal houses [1H, 4H, 7H, 10H].

♡⃕ Oral, both giving and receiving, is a favorite. Mouths are "heated", almost like steamy hot tub water. Head that's slow and deliberate; "toe curling", "sheet gripping". Keeping a lover in place, holding their legs apart or keeping them pinned [for max pleasure]. Learning new techniques, tricks and "treats" for a five star experience. Pluto could be in cardinal houses [1H, 4H, 7H, 10H].

♡⃕ Feeling the same as “bubblegum” pink, having an aura that’s saturated in sugariness. Pinkalicious (brat); getting their way in love and not having to do much in return. Pink skin after getting spanked, undertones that show "flush". "Sweetest Pie" by Megan thee Stallion & Dua Lipa (similar vibes). Skill in baking or treats ("top notch"), confectionary sugar. Using their goods as [or "for"] a temporary love spell.

♡⃕ Goodhearted with a 'girl/boy next door' quality, would be a TV show's comfort character [otherwise most popular]. Happiness evokes the distinction of the ✨ emoji; "higher frequencies." Eloquence of Disney princesses or princes; "ain't no sunshine when she's gone." Transmuting pain, turning it into better days [or "Good Days" by SZA]. Positive influence, specifically on elders. Singing can be therapeutic and a skill.

♡⃕ Masturbation and alternative self-pleasure tactics can be chronic. Satisfying their needs, practicing affirmative moaning (e.g. moaning out loud and looking in a mirror). Instills confidence with sexuality—revealing clothing, "fiercely" looking makeup (winged liner, "blood" red lips), sexual discipline [on their time]. Can't be tied down, like ever. Has options for different days of the week ("separate occasions"); a playa. Could be Martian (Mars dom).

♡⃕ Maternal instincts and having a knack for domesticity, "family oriented". Dreams of birthing [or raising] children; adopting pets (i.e. owning multiple). Children "flock" to them, feel seen and understood from an adult POV ("trustful"). Dependable to friends. Proficient in babysitting or caretaking the youth; babies and toddlers "favorite person."

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT’S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL ⟶ 🎴 Sadness. the Hermit. Page of Swords. Creativity↺. 7oS↺. Strength. 2oW. 8oS [bod].

BRIGHT DIAMONDS FEEL REVELANT IN COMPARISON TO PILE THREE'S RARITY. On the surface it seems they're forlorn and stoic or repressed and grim. Misunderstood and judged until an opportunity to see all of them arrives; "guarded" but authentic ("100%"). Querents may emulate the solemness in renaissance oil paintings. Given the chance to drop their guard, they'll ease into vulnerability. Not entirely, just enough to witness them relax. It's public knowledge that they're forced to be on [the] edge, and that it's near impossible to get off alone. This pulls people in, as if they're rushing to get closer; want to be querents knight in shining armor. "If I'm worthy enough?" People dream to sought out after this pile's approval, and coming to the realization is sexy.

♰♰♰ Querents of this pile are made of stone. Their energy is immovable, it's not made to crack ["shatter, or break"]. Willow trees make up their intelligence, these are teachers of power (strength and discipline). I see them as "silent, but deadly", as silence ("Hermit mode") is the shield. Saying nothing and knowing it all. Intelligence comes to mind, alluding to mental influence on others. Potential partners could find themselves having an urge to do better; heighten their knowledge, sharpen their skills, complete a craft. Lmao however, Pile Three wouldn't have even told them to go do it, those partners would've done it all by themselves for Pile Three ("just because"). Power is definitely a thriving source here. ♰♰♰ Determinative and empowered, querents are forthcoming regarding goals, ambitions, and accomplishments; success seems to "follow" them, but that's due to it being a source of comfort. Channeling the drive to "succeed" is found in creative or musical pursuits [if not about career]. It's not unheard of that this pile fights to the end of Earth to conquer a triumph (spirit of a warrior). This is perceived seductively as it displays to the world how perseverant they will be; "nothing that can be taken away" because it's what they know how to easily obtain.

THE LYNX WITH A SOLUTION IS HOW THIS PILE IS REPRESENTED TO OTHERS, PLUS ROMANTIC PARTNERS. Unpredictable, braggadocious, reactive, and relentless; characteristics in common as they're shaped from a similar mold. Intuition is a prevalent factor as well, because like a lynx, Pile Three can interpret anyone's energy (i.e. "read the room") and quickly adjust. Watchful gaze and all. Analyzing sceneries has led them into assessment, coined the role of lieutenant. It's prominent for sure, I'm hearing "dictator" as in this is how querents come off. It's "unsettling", but in the way that rolls tingles up your spine. Commanding and directing is attached to them as a personality trait, it's born from their urge to take initiative. Doing things, learning things, attempting things at the drop of a dime and asserting their authority by getting it finished.

♰♰♰ Querents are able to play hot and cold (like the song), inevitably putting people in a box labeled "undetermined"; people don't know where they stand, might not even know how to, just because Pile Three never tells. Like a magician pulling a trick and walking offstage even with the audience unbeknownst to how it worked. "Let me in" is what people scream internally, while jumping through hoops and hell to prove that they're worth the risk. Maximum effort to impress querents, or at the very least get them to "reconsider" dropping their defense. "Lower their expectations", so partners can dream of a real chance. Safe to say that querents are more likely to give "tests" with no thought about reviewing them. ♰♰♰ It's highly plausible that assertion on Pile Three's end is a coverup over their ["raging"] insecurities. Internal, external, mental or physical doubts hide under their reign ("rule"), it's easier for querents to take charge in all areas because they can't control their mind. Before spiraling, before "shutdown" (mass destruction); breathing techniques ("practice") helps level them out when in the midst of breakdowns. Personal lives can be on the brink of crumbling to querents, this is a result of 'unhealthy' home environment(s) as they grew older—interpersonal relationships were likely affected most. Codependency is a result from this unhealed wound ("wounds"), as it feels like something physical will heal the void rather than actual treatment (e.g. therapy). Addiction to sex, substance, work, or gambling is rather prevalent, so seductiveness comes in the form of sinful vices. ♰♰♰ Pile Three was the only group to receive an extra card, which happens to be about making decisions and stepping outside comfort zones [2 of Wands]. I found this interesting considering this pile has trouble taking [and making] leaps of faith, they live by the rule of a schedule (anything outside of that doesn't see light of day fr); someone [according to the number two] could change that. Show them a whole new world outside of expectations, routine, and boredom lmao. What gets querents to open up and breathe for once, that this someone gives them space to register, download, and process; they feel like being alone with the lights off, something Pile Three wouldn't mind sharing with them in real life; "let them in".

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴4oC. the Hanged Woman. 10oP. the Devil. 8oW. Death↺ [bod].

CHAMELEONS MARK QUERENTS ALTERNATE IDENTITY ("SPLIT PERSONALITY"), A SIDE OF THEMSELVES THAT ISN'T COMPOSED AND HIDDEN. It feels like the confines of a private party; hair messy, lips smudged, phone lost but the music keeps jumping. They're spinning round and round, pulling whoever's nearby into their circle. This shows in moments of comfort; setting a mood outside of their walls and head. Enjoying themselves to the max and inviting others to unwind also. It is sexy to loosen up and let your hair down, it's a "birthright" to bask in the moment. An outlook on free will that serene is destined for greatness, others can see it. In the bedroom, Pile Three turns the encounter into hotel service; five star rating from all the guests.

♰♰♰ Dominatrix/Dominant is the intensity I'm feeling, querent has the presence of a god. Everything's gone cold, lights are low and silence is near. "Secretary", E. Edward Gray vibes times ten (I even picture them cracking back an extra long whip). Definitely, definitely, definitelyyyy making people become their little sluts—overworking their existence with their own pleasure (woah :P). Indicates incessant teasing ("edging"), praise or punishment, and submission (mentally, physically). "Silence?" coming in could represent the use of rules, or it can be the calm after their partner's orgasm. Shutting down and regenerating all from Pile Three's conditions [e.g. sensory deprivation and multiple rounds]. It’s sexual Fear Factor, and many would love to play. ♰♰♰ Vanilla lovers are common and likely easily influenced; Pile Three gains the upper hand over others, but it's used to explore their fantasies. "How many licks to turn you out?" hence the overall dynamic of bedroom activity. Degradation when inflicted could dance on the harsher end (e.g. face smacking), but this also says meanness is a raging turn on (both querent and partner).

IT'S PLAUSIBLE THAT PEOPLE ARE SEDUCED DURING SEX, BECAUSE THROUGHOUT THE ENCOUNTER THEY'RE LOSING THEMSELVES JUST TO BE FOUND. Pile Three inhibits the role of a teacher, borderline disciplinarian, but all in the language of tough "love". Essentially, the dominance from them helps their partners with self discovery; helps them develop a newfound confidence in their identity. "Secretary" is coming in again, which isn't surprising since this pile resonates with the movie's theme. The main character, Lee, is a representation of querents spouse throughout their transformation; "on the path to redemption" with their own bodies. Butterflies floating from their cocoons to venture somewhere that's not home—these partners are butterflies once Pile Three travels along their bliss and ecstasy [as in life changing sex ;)].

♰♰♰ Oh, this the pile into wrapping their bedroom partners in rope or fluffy black cuffs; into withholding sweet relief when they have to cum. I'm hearing "soft", which alludes to a gentler side emerging whenever it's time to tie someone up [or implement use of bondage]. Fondness develops once Pile Three leans into this dynamic of rewards for submission; partners light up at the dualism because it reminds them that they're "loved" (i.e. cared for). ♰♰♰ Pile One had significant messages revolving around querents voice, and it's the same for Pile Three. Going off the downloads about demand and control, what's specifically seductive is hearing them speak; giving "instructions", whispering little nothings, essentially melting people's eardrums with word salad. Lol, it reminds me of how certain celebrities are urged to read audiobooks. It's erotic, but it's even better when it's meant for one person ("partner") to hear. I'm also channeling the use of querents voice, in the sense that they're vocalists in bed: "do it like that", "stay there", "i'm so close", "you feel that", etc. They're in [no way] afraid to praise or chide how their experience feels, dissatisfaction isn't an answer.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ Victimization, "prone to experiencing projection." People pushing ideas onto their persona, not accepting querents for who they actually are. Black sheep ["of friends"]. Edgelord (traits). Pluto in 1H, 2H, or 3H. Sun could be in a water sign [Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces] and in 6H.

♡⃕ High profile, appearance is that of a model. "Diamond face"; head shape is acute, sharpened and definitive (e.g. strong jawline). Cheekbones accentuated with contour and highlighter "blush". Straight or "queen" shaped brows. Scorpio in Moon, Venus, or Mars.

♡⃕ Talking and letting it "all out" during sexual encounters. Directing people how they want—need* to be pleased. Definitely talks someone through it; softly whispering the filthiest shit ever lol. Stern and direct. Influence is in their "reasonings", natural convos imitate public speeches ("PSAs"). Presence that'd do wonders in a governmental field (the Pentagon, CIA, secret service). Mercury in 8H, 12H, conjunct IC (4H).

♡⃕ Rolling Stone' by the Weeknd reflects their inner thoughts ("monologue"). Missing people [or a person] that doesn't exist; lonely by ["a"] fault. Stoners, "being stoned" from troubles, using escapism as defense. Caged bird, but an escape isn't near (false). Father Time [Saturn] gifts them wisdom with maturity; development is their "greatest" friend. Meditative yoga, journaling, or music ground them tremendously.

♡⃕ 333; individuals that're lucky, "blessed by Jupiter." Purple aura, royal like mindset. Abundance in material possessions, large amounts that fall through when least expected. "Lumpsums" and it's a new car. Good karma surrounding finances, regime, and knowledge [seemingly 6H]. Could know friends who know "friends" [business opportunities, success]. "Hustlers."

♡⃕ Major Aquarian traits; innovative, intelligent, "indescribable." Could "LOL" a lot, they're likely to be cackling. Incorporates "spectacles" in everyday fashion (sunglasses, reading glasses, fun patterned glasses). Accessories that stand out like their music; multi-genre playlists that's all their taste. Into fruit smoothies or Greek yogurt. "Unconventional" (lifestyle).

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL⟶ 🎴 Creativity. 4oP. 5oP. Rest. 2oW↺. Ace of Pentacles↺. 6oP [bod].

THE CONNECTION TO THIS PILE WAS INSTANTANEOUS, MEANING QUERENTS ARE "TRANQUIL" IN SPIRIT, FLUID IN ENERGY. Pile Four's essence reminds me of coconut trees in Hawaii, leaves fluttering from the warmest of breezes; "tropical island" but in the form of their inner self. Child of the seas. Water nymph in her prime, having a beautiful voice is within this comparison; lessons will develop the clarity of their singing, "choir like" vocals. Aromatherapies could soothe disruptions querents face, scent itself is a huge part of their presence period. "Musk", "gourmand"; smelling delectable, but with an added hint of spice (e.g. cinnamon base). I'm downloading wafts of vanilla, caramel, cotton candy, and chocolate. A guilty pleasure, otherwise delightful to those that can't get a taste ["even tho they want to so bad"].

♰♰♰ Eyes are the most seductive feature of this pile, like the amount of pressure ("pleasure") people get after locking eyes is immense as hell. Naturally intense, resembling that of a tiger's—narrowed and penetrating. "Big ego". Sexiness can be found within their pupils, a tenacious gleam once it's turned on. Transformations are recurring here and partly because Pile Four chooses who they want to "be", slipping on a mask as if they're dressing for the part. "Which era am I stepping into today?" I'm channeling the planet Pluto, so there could dominant or prominent influence in the chart; querents have much passion hidden behind those irises and it hooks people. ♰♰♰ Charitable, generous beings reside within; attention is focused on Pile Four's desires to donate or give back. Not only partners, but people will generally find that level of empathy to be attractive. Humble and rich, whether that's in material assets or spiritual abundance, querents aren't hesitant to share. Pentacles are associated to wealth, so income is especially prominent; "big bank", accumulating revenue through their purposefulness. Humanitarianism is beloved from Pile Four because it's seen as genuine ("from the heart"). Forewarning to repress any sign of bragging, boasting, or full out greed since these are funds tied to karma; Saturn is the driving force because it's all hard earned and deserved, but he won't allow them to forget where they came from. Good behavior equals no testing trials or lessons, we want to keep it that way lol.

ENDEARMENT FROM THE COLLECTIVE WILL BE APPARENT; PEOPLE FIND IT QUITE DIFFICULT TO NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH PILE FOUR. I believe it's their truth and honesty, because they're undoubtedly the peacemaker for a *lot* of people's situations ("shortcomings"). "You've got a friend in me", meaning querents don't bash, they just expect better. Respect blooms once bathed in that light, it's "justified" (i.e. deserved). Honoring an opinion or perspective from this pile, because it's "essential for growth". Sun conjunct [or "trine"] Mercury or MC only emphasizes this air of importance. Utilizing communication and publicly speaking will be a part of this pile's rite of passage lol, definitely meant to be heard out loud (e.g. fighting for rights as a career). Also, raising awareness for a specific subject ("sensitive", controversial) will be a focal point regarding their presence in society—trailblazers.

♰♰♰ Personally, I'd be wary of the people this pile's around because some people are attracted to their sadness. With ill intention this is obviously weird, but harmless attraction would just be someone wanting to "save" Pile Four. Since they're one with inner power, it seems that nothing can shake their stability until it does. It's arousing when querents are in need because they usually never are; never asking for help, won't accept it neither [at least to anyone around that knows firsthand]. It's giving "the damsel's *finally* in distress", like people would leap in front of traffic if it meant they'd get to Pile Four first. Ngl, the other end of this spectrum is very loud—witch hunt vibes, as in "enemies" are literally praying to see querents suffer. Could be prominent later in life, but regardless I felt called to insert a message. Oddly, it's higher ups (bosses, managers) harboring this level of resentment; threatened by Pile Four's strength and potential [to succeed]. Be extremely cautious when at work (or in a workspace), I sense sabotage and framing ("accidents") when we know the real. ♰♰♰ While listening to music, I found myself coming across two separate versions of the same song; one was better than the other, which led me to believe that Pile Four experiences (or "will experience") copycatting and comparison from others. Specifically, partners or suitors who're in committed relationships and fail to keep querents out their fantasies. "Do it better" is being channeled, which also reminds me of being validated for something special ["that no one else has"]. Not to promote infidelity or being someone's sidepiece, but the favoritism isn't really being hidden lmao. This pile must be invested in spirituality or at the very least into the law of "what goes around comes around", because they're not tempted by any bait. They remember who karma is and how she operates, I don't picture them dipping into people's relationships for harmful doing at all. Using someone to their advantage, yes, but allowing themselves to come second place when someone's already first, hard pass.

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴Knight of Wands. 8oC. the Emperor. 6oP. King of Swords. the Fool [bod].

DISCOVERING THAT THERE'S ANOTHER SIDE TO SOMEONE SECLUDED IS SUCH A HOT LITTLE SECRET, AND PILE FIVE'S IN ON IT ("DEVIANCY"). Seduction is their strip tease, a dance where each turn and grind is another piece of clothing on the floor. It's as if the quiet island essence drowned beneath heavy passion and eroticism. "Drenched." For some, private encounters ["at night"] could be a habitual pastime, a "hobby". Stress reliever it is, and partners will find joy in being the outlet. Enamor is found at the base of sexual encounters, as in partners find themselves "sinking" into querents love [let alone fall].

♰♰♰ The card spread is a telltale significator of being a freak, definitely needing someone who can "match it" all the same. Like the signs are signing, from the Fool (openness in sexual ideas) at the bottom of the deck to the eroticism that surrounds (encloses) me. I feel that loyalty and trust are the keys to Pile Five's sexual shop. Think those 18+ Instagram posts that're like, "I look innocent, but for that one person I'm the opposite." Querents are a personification of that energy, they're hard to read [sexually] unless someone's intentions say differently. Roleplaying could be a kink that's enjoyable, especially in a maid's outfit or "teacher student" attire; the effects of role reversal instill stability and confidence in their romantic relationships. ♰♰♰ King of Swords came through and despite not having an actual place in the spread, the card came with a download about Pile Four's ability to "take it". Be it longer length of a dick/dildo, nonstop orgasms, or multiple rounds—they're handling everything like a pro ;). "Extremely commendable." People's mouths are going to drop and hang open just from witnessing the durability in person, "making it disappear" isn't common. I'll even insert anal, just because it fits the bill in this context (taboo doesn't exist).

SCENTS HAVE WAFTED TO THE SEXUAL SIDE, PUTTING EMPHASIS ON THE "SMELL" OF DESIRE. Smelling lovely, carrying an ambience of rose petals and candlelight. I've compared another pile to being an aphrodisiac and it also applies to querents; pheromones cloud and permeate the senses of partners, keeps them strung ["on what they're going to have"]. It's telling how drawn in they are, I see them hanging around Pile Four like flies to fresh fruit. Nobody likes to let go, in turn encouraging themselves to stay; "know I gotta leave, but I want to stay." Hearts growing fonder no matter the distance. Selena Quintanilla's presence and aura to the collective, and how that light is missed everyday—Pile Four.

♰♰♰ Naturalness is liberation to querents, their body hair isn't shunned or shamed. "Carefree". Bushes are attractive to not only them, but their lovers as well. It's the normalcy of two people bonding in bed, I think it's a ["stress"] relief to turn off being perfect just to be human. Feels bohemian in the sense of living by the choice; inspiring body positivity. Innocent, but it's attractive enough that partners want to "go down" more frequently ;P. It just adds more uumph to an encounter. ♰♰♰ There's a specific person that came in, someone who devotes ("dotes") their happiness on Pile Four's satisfaction (*for some*). Regardless, I'm channeling messages about foot massages and bathtubs ["together"]; "extreme" TLC after passionate sessions; chocolates fed to them, etc. Romcom acts of service, sweet nothings and dates as long as they're treating querents (i.e. together). Whoever this energy belongs to, they're practically marriage material [and a munch].

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ Tons of fame indicators, querents could find themselves in the public eye once this lifetime. Skepticism around their authenticity, and if they're "cut out" for the scrutiny (otherwise backlash). Nitpicking about appearance being "too hot" and "sexy". Wild and famous. Sun (“conjunct Mercury”) or Lilith could be in 10H. Could have personal planets or placements in Capricorn or Libra [i.e. Saturn ruled].

♡⃕ "Eye catching" type of beauty. Attractivity resembles that of a model, influencer, or "guru"; gorgeous ass people. Androgynous features (well balanced between masc and fem energies). Exhibits the cut and value ("grace") of pink white diamonds. Could be Venusian [Rising, Moon, and Venus in Libra].

♡⃕ Virgin, practicing celibacy, or abstinence; haven't had penetrative sex "yet". Staying to themselves, rejecting new partners (flings), respect around the body. "Not letting anyone touch." Body isn't a joking matter, taken very seriously. Potential health scares [or "hospital visits"]. Prone to sending, posting, or saving nude pics.

♡⃕ Expensive jewels in their favorite pieces of jewelry; never seen without it [necklace, bracelet, “pendant”]. Red rubies or emeralds could have significance (e.g. birth stone, parent’s name etc.). People see them as “luxurious”. Debbie Jellinksy in ‘Addams Family Values’. Spoiled babies, but not without reason. Bargainers [“and deals”]. Jealous themes regarding fashion, beauty, and influence (themselves included).

♡⃕ Going into hiding, "Hermit mode" for a soul cleanse (refresher). Transformative as hell. Disappearing for months at a time just to reappear a "new" person; even more beautiful, "collected", and better than before. Unrecognizable (in a good way). "Money Longer" by Lil Uzi Vert. Pluto dominant, their ability to shed skin and birth anew is apparent ("respected"). Noticed in *every* room they've ever stepped in ("blessing and a curse").

♡⃕ Free the oppressed (“Palestine” and more); boycotting message, either to start or continue. Stop drinking coffee from Starbucks, it’s being frowned upon [“spiritual guidance”], people's lives are at stake. They’re important—they matter.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐕 𓆩❦︎𓆪

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN GENERAL ⟶ 🎴 Abundance↺. Knight of Wands↺. the Magician. Rejection↺. Ace of Swords. the Star. Knight of Cups↺ [bod].

PILE FIVE'S PRESENCE IS ILLUMINATED BY THEIR OUTER PROMINENCE, THEIR "STAR" SHINE (HENCE THE STAR CARD). I've noticed that all five piles have this certain glow to their energies, their personalities can revive a dark room. In this instance, Pile Five's personality is what's alluringly magnetic, it's "seduction" at its truest form. Envision if a person wanted to build their lover, they'd pick characteristics from querents admirabilities. "Sensuous" and amicable, somehow much more than expected (alongside individual uniqueness). Adept with an artistic approach, querents bestow fine talents—performing onstage (i.e. singing, dancing), creative writing, interior or fashion design, etc. Makes them exceptionally special, more so in the public eye; "starstruck". "Nice & Slow" can allude to querents steadiness in attaining their goals, taking the long route for lasting (rewarding) results.

♰♰♰ Embodying traits of people's ideal person (i.e. "perfection") is one of the main factors of being seduced; reminding them that humans aren't one dimensional, that we're made up of universal qualities. Humor would be the best example, because it's not a requirement to be with someone funny, until you realize that you love to laugh. Pile Five has this natural likeliness, they're able to be relatable without coming off as a flake ("try hard"); they're a breath of fresh air, a "relief". Youthfulness is a key factor as well, subtle mannerisms and expressions that thump through people's hearts; "twinkling eyes" and sweet smiles. The wonder in querents eyes is especially prominent, everyone notices at first glance. Literally the Star card, lighting up the nighttime. ♰♰♰ I envision this pile having many friends, being the favorite person in a lot of people's lives. A bestfriend, even to passing strangers. I'm hearing "polly pocket", which says people don't ["ever"] want to outgrow playing with Pile Five. (i.e. spend time with them). Spilling secrets, getting/giving advice, and trusting forever comes with this pile's care package lol; they're the sun for someone else's rainy day ("a confidant"). All above is the answer to "what's so beautiful about them?" Inner beauty is perceived to be felt "by all". Beautiful generosity is what I'm hearing, so querents hospitality is noteworthy. Getting-people-awestruck energy.

QUERENTS DEMEANOR DANCES ALONG THE LINES OF BEING RESERVED AND STRICT. BEING DEFINITIVE IS THE BETTER WORD, THEY'RE APT TO EARNESTY. If Virgo placements are present then this level of poise comes effortlessly, it's a part of them. Primitive and prestigious, people find these attributes to be "fascinating". Miranda Priestly from "the Devil Wears Prada" is who I visualize Pile Five to be; attentiveness to detail, pristine image from successes, a name upheld by its holder. Her character struts with diligence and strives for the greatest opportunities (it's in querents presence). Not letting up on a goal and seeing it to the end draws everyone in; "making shit happen" with devotion catches everyone's attention (enamoring).

♰♰♰ Getting feisty and excessive cussing is a part of querents likability; "randomness" in their words or expressionism. Lol "loudmouthing" is coming in, so they're bound to going off in the heat of moment ["or any time of day"]. The wheel generator (unexpectedness) of their speech is their bat signal, but especially when they're feeling mean. People may project weakness onto this pile—not taking them seriously—until it's their turn to get told off ("caught in the crossfire"). Harmless until they detonate :P, people are reminded that Pile Five has two separate sides. ♰♰♰ Their facial features are accentuated for luring (attracting) attention "wherever they are"; recognition for how irresistible they look to other people. Characteristics of an "angel", plump (cherubic) cheeks or apple like cheekbones. Highlighter serves them well, makes their appearance "radiant", can resemble the Sun. Broad shoulders, toned calves, or a built figure; seduction in their flex, or in moments where they're on display (e.g. in a swimsuit). I see them invoking the spirit of a Taurus [bull] and arousing tenaciousness in lovers. If it was possible to do, someone would paint Pile Five's face to hang in the Louvre.

WHAT'S SEDUCTIVE IN BED ⟶ 🎴8oC↺. 10oP↺. Ace of Swords. the Lovers. Page of Pentacles. Queen of Cups [bod].

HAVING AN EFFECTS OF HEAVY DRUGS WOULD BE AN IDEAL REFERENCE TO PILE FIVE’S SEDUCTIVENESS. All it takes is just one dose, because right after that is when the addiction begins (i.e. obsessive lovers). It's not uncommon for this group to attract internet watchers or stalkers, otherwise past partners that don't want to leave them alone; "can't get enough" of their love, aimlessly wondering if Pile Five's wondering too. "Made for everyone", as in "one taste and you're whipped". Don't be afraid to indulge, especially if it's the best you'll ever get. The pile that got away for a lot of past lovers [111, 1111 is significant].

♰♰♰ Wetness and fluids are big with querents, the first thing I channeled was "water fountain" (cream). It's making me giggle, because private areas can be seen as a "problem" from producing so much liquid. This can indicate "magic" genitals, private parts sprinkled in glitter. Orgasms from this pile are the "gift that keeps on giving", like people's self-worth (value) end up skyrocketing lol. "Heaven sent" plus the gift of pleasure leaves the impression of God's angel on others. Breeding or ["multiple"] creampies as a kink, because lovers find themselves absorbing the excess ("wanting it all", if you catch my drift..). Water is heavy [throughout the spread] which confirms many messy situations ;). ♰♰♰ Lips, lips, lips: kissing and feeling them is an experience, a solidified moment in anyone's lives if they're granted the chance. Pile Five's kisses (mouth in general) is an escape, a getaway the promised land ["of ecstasy"]. Kisses are delectable, tasting dessert-esque (sugary, savory). Flavors of peppermint or "candy" is prominent, otherwise satiating the desire. Also, the red lips on Sabrina's cover art gives me the idea of being kissed all over; the body, face, and "soul". A level of expertise this high means Pile Five is [or will be] a lot of people's "first"; love, orgasm, or fulfilling relationship. I don't believe there's anything about them that won't get someone turned on and yearning.

AS IT'S BEEN SO POTENT, PILE FIVE'S ACCESS TO A HIGHER SOURCE OF POWER IS GRATIFYING; DIVINITY LIES WITHIN BED, IT'S AN AWAKENING OUTSIDE OF THE BODY. Sex is inherently spiritual, because to partners the encounter isn't "of this Earth". To me, I envision it as beams of light poking (pouring) through the mind and spirit of whoever's with this pile, essentially aligning physical pleasure to mental (i.e. their psyche) bliss. That's to say, any form of sex is tantric and transcendental. People will be taken aback (at first), but that's due to the encounter being as sacred as it is; the intention (or "practice") is too important to interrupt before it begins.

♰♰♰ It's hard to not claim this pile as being perfect, but omg the downloads just validate the sentiment. There's not one hair on querents body that isn't adorned and appreciated, this reigns even more true if they're in a committed connection (i.e. special person). No matter how they envision themselves, to the collective their existence is "exalted" and favored. Skin could even glow during and after sex, because they're so cherished; "everything they think they aren't" is debunked at their most vulnerable (nakedness). Laving on their sensitive spots (legs, thighs, feet) is a token of gratitude from lovers, it'll happen frequently considering how devoted to Pile Five they'll be. ♰♰♰ This is coming in so intensely, querents have the mouth of an oral [sex] god. Nothing short of a munch, they leave marks with their tongue or throat; pulling people into their utopia (i.e. ecstasy). Ecstasy is recurring word for this pile, hence being compared to a drug, an indicator for sex that's "numbing". During head, partners are bound to throw their heads ["and hands"] upwards. The pressure of being sucked into the void is "stilling", the calm before a ravage storm. Lmao, they get people stuck with their mouths on 'o'. Minds on cloud nine, limbs so light from relaxation they "could float"—blown. This pile is made up of lovers that give and give, until they can't give anymore. It's as if oral is a "souvenir", an experience meant to be collected forever more.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐒.

♡⃕ "Ironheart"; has the courage of the [cowardly] lion, bravery is learned (earned). Lightning strike(s) of a person, turns heads and charges surroundings with their intensity; energy is incomparable. Uranus could be a part of big three [Sun, Moon, Rising], Uranus dominant or in 1H/2H. Authors (writing can "revitalize" people, give them a wakeup call).

♡⃕ Connected to their highest form ("truest self"), receives messages through [or "from"] the Universe. Alienlike; "not of this Earth." What's on the inside (soul) reflects what's on their "face" (e.g. feeling good internally so they're extra smiley in person). Balanced. "Sacral chakra" alignment is a godsend for sex [can top or ride well]. Stomach is people's favorite part; birthmark, belly piercing, tattoo(s) above the waist.

♡⃕Insecurities are a part of them; "stories" about overcoming disappointment. Secretive to a fault ("can hold water" forever). Believes in trust and exposing what's on the inside—"bareface" (might also be more present at their "rawest"). Holds the key to the world (i.e. everyone's secrets). Consciousness. Lmao, fucking with them is a spiritual ass whooping full of drawbacks [and lessons]. Powerful ancestors (spirit team).

♡⃕ "Thank you" is their passage to life. Grateful for the smallest and largest things; "tearing up" over sentiments. Type to thank their lover for giving them orgasms ["submissive"]. "Soothing" voices; can converse or "rock" anyone to sleep (comforting). Cancer placements could be prominent [Sun, Moon, Venus][Lunarian].

♡⃕ "Bed Chem" by Sabrina Carpenter, might be "short and sweet". Emulates the energy of a little person ("smol"). Hair can be long, full and thick too [great for tugging, wrapping, or "pulling" in bed]. Cocoon, people don't want [them] to leave. Rich and "domestic" (motherly) singing voice. People like (love) to hear them whisper [Mercurial].

♡⃕ Artistic (artists at heart); creativity is all they know, all they breathe. Life path number 3/4, 5m [artistry]. Would do well onstage, might've experienced Broadway, could dream of visiting ("talent"). Pleasers (they're really submissive); lovers give them "everything" (i.e. drowning in ecstasy). Devotion is a personality trait. Pisces could be a part of their big six [Sun, Moon, Rising, Mercury, Venus, Mars][Neptunian].

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

© 2024 BITDEMONIC

[zolo-san]

#the red strings trope man#the only unrealistic thing about this is how untangled n unfrayed that string looks cause bet your ass that Law would be fighting this the#whole time gnawing n tugging n worrying at it cause he absolutely refuse to accept that he has a wholeass soulmate like its not Luffy he#takes issue w its the choice thats taken from him n its crazier if only he can see it n its even crazier when luffy accepts the alliance#just like that literally in a heartbeat n its the contrast of Law still trying to snap the damn thing despite being in this alliance vs#luffy who seems comfortable n even satisfied w his choice n goddamn hes choosing Law isn't he like w/o knowing theyre tied (@datesanddamian)

Throwback to the snowy mountain ❄️

[miwsolovely]

something something bruce wayne obsessing over spouse!reader

he wants to believe that fate brought the two of you together. strings looping through your feeble fingers dripping blood, connecting the two of you together for eternity.

but in reality it was him who brought the two of you together.

setting up meetings, coincidences, every now and then, getting closer to you, blinding you with that oh so perfect smile and strategic placement of his heavy— but gentle and firm— hand.

making sure you feel safe. because he knows, he knows that no one has ever loved you, the way hes planning on loving you, the way he already is loving you.

you dont realize it. he thanks whatever god covered by the curtains of the sky that the clouds of ignorance fog your brain and turns it into mush. pliable and feeble for him to mold you into what is perfect.

because he wants whats best for you, he does. that habit you have of picking away at your nails till your fingers dye red? gone with carefully voiced concerns dripping in sticky honey.

“now, you know i don’t like it when you’re hurt. why’re you doing this to yourself my love? its picking away at my heart.”

and you believe him. because isn’t he right? he only wants whats best for you, why shouldn’t you heed his advice?

signs like being wanted and loved to you, are the gentle concerns and loving advice that push and pull at your brain. he loves playing into that.

and unbeknownst to you, you’re second guessing your every move. ‘i should probably do x. . . but what about y?’

or, ‘how would bruce feel if i did this?’

and the rest of the family play into this which is what is scary.

at first there might’ve been a bit of animosity between you all (namely damian, as he doesn’t want this random to replace his mother), but it all dies down when they realize that ‘oh, bruce is sleeping more, eating more, his mood has improved. . .because of you.’

they notice, process, and act on the fact that you’re weak minded because of bruce.

and in by doing this for bruce, they start to feel their hearts warm for you. they start seeing you as just a parental figure trying to win their hearts, not to win bruce’s money and fame, but to really get to know them.

when they act disappointed in you, your heart shrivels in on itself and it feels like you can’t breathe because you failed them. that gives them the opportunity to have you crawling back for forgiveness because, they’re your children and husband, don’t you love them?

they just want you to do better, right?

you, unknowingly conditioned, in the middle of your unknown torment, to identify concern, disappointment and guilt as signs of being wanted and loved.

©miwsolovely do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms . likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3

[dannyriccsystem]

Your pick for the soulmate au!

YOU BELONG WITH ME.

FORMULA ONE DRIVER X READER

Summary: The red string of fate connects you and… Carlos Sainz. Unfortunately, you don’t believe in soulmates.

Warnings: Light angst with happy ending, not proofread, use of Y/N

Featuring: Soulmate!Carlos Sainz x Soulmate!Reader

Thank you for the request. I spun a wheel and it gave me Carlos!! I’m Watching the race right now… I feel like I’m losing my marbles. 😭 As of the time I am posting this, Norris in first!

The Red String felt like a cruel joke at times. It was a fleeting reminder of someone linked to your very soul since birth, destined by the universe to come together as one. It’s not like the books say, though, because the string nearly has a mind of its own.

It’s as if it likes to play tricks. One moment you’ll see a flash of your fate, drawn in a red line, from the corner of your eye, but as soon as you turn to follow its direction, it’s like the string was never there to begin with. The tales you’ve been told always say that the closer you get, the more visible your connection becomes, but you’ve never been lucky enough to catch it in the act.

Why is why you don’t believe in soulmates.

It has to be some tale made up to please the minds of hopeless romantics. Perhaps it’s just a trick of the light or vision impairment that causes the belief this string is plausible, but there’s no way in hell you’d fall for such a stupid thing. Soulmates weren’t real, and you were adamant about that.

You’ve gone years without paying it any mind. On rare occasion you’d see a flash of red, and for just one moment you wanted to let yourself fall into the beliefs of everyone else, but without fail you always shrugged it off and made up excuses for what else it could possibly be. On even rarer occasions, approximately once or twice a year, you’d feel a tug deep in your core, like someone was physically pulling your heartstrings.

‘It was just the weather messing with me,’ you’d tell yourself so nonchalantly. Deep down you knew better than that. You just didn’t want to, so you kept pushing it away.

To escape your own mind, you started working for the Williams F1 team in 2024. You didn’t have a high ranking job or anything huge— No, you were just another factory worker who sorted through the loads of fan mail and such that Alex and Logan received, ensuring their safety and security over all else. It was a lackluster job, but it paid well and it was a fun title to bear.

Carlos Sainz was a hopeless romantic. He could remember his father telling him the story of how he came across his mother when he was a young child. He’d always tell the young boy every detail of his red string, and how he followed it to the ends of the earth to locate his soulmate because he couldn’t stand living without her.

He wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps: Search for his soulmate, woo her, marry her, create a life with her— But he couldn’t. The string never made an appearance in his life, besides the occasional glimmer of light, like a teasing spirit. He wanted to follow it, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even see it to begin with.

When he started racing, it felt like he was giving up. His schedule was too crowded to go on long hunts for this mysterious woman who was unknowingly occupying every corner of his mind. He looked for a connection with every woman he met, desperate to seek out the love and affection he grew up watching his parents share.

So many people were willing to be his soulmate, but none of them truly were. Everyday, every woman he spoke to, felt like a twist of the knife. It was unfair how love surrounded him, but never made its way over to bless his heart.

He found solace in Rebecca Donaldson. Smart, funny, beautiful. He was desperate for a warm body to come home to, even if it wasn’t the person he was fated to love. He was rising to the top in his league, which meant he’d have to put the soulmate thing behind him. He liked Rebecca well enough.

It was time to focus on his career, anyway.

…

But it all came crashing down faster than he could comprehend. It was early in the 2024 season that he received news Lewis Hamilton would be replacing him upon the end of Carlos’ contract. It hurt, it did. He understood why— Who wouldn’t want a seven time world champion on their team, but that didn’t erase the pain.

He tried to use that season as a way to prove himself. Maybe he could swap, and take Hamilton’s place with Mercedes, but as quick as that opportunity arose, it was snatched away even faster. The search started to feel useless, and Carlos started to feel desperate.

With his dignity left behind him, he signed with Williams, and decided he was going to prove his worth even more.

The promotion hit like a train driving at its full speed. One day you were mindlessly clocked in, occupying the heartless space of your office cubicle. The winter break season was coming to an end, which meant that it was just a few more days until things started to get more lively around the office. Cars would be running, letters would be flying in, and data would need to be crunched. You both dreaded it and yearned for it at the same time. At least it gave you something to do.

Thankfully, though, your boredom was quickly swept away as a breeze of excitement came bustling through the door. A few employees poked their heads out, but you stuck to your screen.

“Y/N,” A firm voice spoke from behind you. You perked up, turning around in your office chair to come face to face with your boss, James Vowles. In most occupational spaces, seeing your boss wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. But in the Formula One business, a team principal talking directly to you was either terribly good or terribly bad.

“Oh! James, good morning.” The guy was nice enough. It was hard to gauge what type of person he was, exactly. You stood up, straightening out your shirt. It felt like the professional thing to do, but afterwards you felt really awkward and out of place.

“Listen, our media manager had to quit for family reasons. I know it’s last minute, but how about a promotion?” He says it with a charming smile, like it’s not big deal.

Maybe it wasn’t. It didn’t sound like a big deal, but it was. The media manager got to travel with the drivers and the rest of the team— The media manager was part of the team. It was a huge upgrade from a factory office worker. You struggled to respond for a moment, sitting there like a blubbering toddler.

“I- Yes, sorry! Yes, that would be… Incredible, sir.” You politely bowed your head, and the world felt like it was spinning. Someone should really pinch you, because this felt like a longtime dream come true. You were finally moving up!

“Great.” He claps you on the shoulder, giving a hearty laugh. You’re frigid, unable to move from nerves. “Join us in our team meeting tomorrow, then. You can meet the drivers and all the engineers, and start discussing some ideas.”

You nod, lips drawn into a thin line. You’re afraid that you’ll say something stupid if you speak, so this will have to do. As the team principal leaves, you draw up just enough courage to shout after him, “Thank you, James!”

Carlos wanted to know if you were seeing it too.

He noticed it the moment he landed in Grove, the home of the Williams HQ. The bright red string gently tugging on his soul, as if beckoning for him to follow. It mocked him terribly so, existing as a challenge. ‘Find her,’ it’d say like a faint whisper in the breeze. ‘Your soulmate.’

But Rebecca waited for him at home, quietly loving him from afar. To even consider his soulmate felt like betrayal, so he made the most difficult choice of his entire life: He chose to ignore it. Even though he had longed for this day since he was young, and even though he wanted nothing more than to find you… He ignored it.

But it didn’t ignore him.

He was there for a meeting, and that was it. Nothing more, nothing less. This would be a good time to bond with the team he’d be spending a few years with— It was like a fresh start. But he had to wonder if he was subconsciously following the string, or if it was following him.

He stepped out of the car, thanking the driver before heading inside of the headquarters. The tug grew stronger, the string grew brighter.

You.

He sat across the table from you, trying to look anywhere but into your eyes. Your beautiful eyes that were incredibly captivating. Most of all, he was trying not to look at where the string tautly connected to your heart, right in the center of your chest, because then he’d have to acknowledge how it sprouted out from his just the same.

You seemed unfazed, and Carlos was left to wonder if this was just the result of trickery by fate. Maybe you were his soulmate, but he wasn’t yours. Maybe it was from the lack of sleep on the plane ride over— Maybe this wasn’t real at all. Maybe he was still asleep.

He’s not. It’s real. He can tell when he feels Alex elbow him gently in the ribs. It hurt momentarily, the pain subsiding quickly. It was sharp and quick enough for reality to sink in. “Are you listening?” His new teammate would mutter, taking note of his companion’s wandering eyes. Carlos just nodded, but his mind didn’t agree as it wandered off once more.

…

You noticed it alright. You just didn’t want to have to face your fear right now, because in your head none of this was real still. Soulmates didn’t exist— There was always a scientific explanation for something. Soulmates were a ridiculous myth. That red string meant nothing, it was simply…

Well, you didn’t know.

Before you could make excuses. The glimpse of red was just a weird angle of lighting, and the tugging was just acid reflux. But now? There was a bright red string connecting the man who sat just a few feet away from you. There was nothing to make that comprehensible.

After the meeting finished up, you decided to put on the most professional facade possible. You stood, straightening out your plain white button up and black slacks. Your kitten heels clicked on the linoleum tile, a friendly grin taking over.

“Carlos, Alex,” You began, gaining the attention of the two drivers. Your eyes locked with your soulmate momentarily, and you could see the befuddlement written in his eyes. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Y/N, your new media manager. I’ll be charge of all the team’s official socials, and you can always ask me for advice on what to post and whatnot.”

You held your hand out to Alex first, still trying to work up enough courage to even look at Carlos for more than five seconds. For God’s sake, you were a grown ass woman who couldn’t even face her soulmate head on. The younger driver, by one year, shook your hand swiftly, uttering some form of thanks with a polite smile. You disregarded it.

You held your hand out to Carlos, swallowing thickly. He seemed to hesitate, but eventually gave your hand a firm shake.

This would be fine.

“Do you see it?” Carlos had spontaneously asked you one day. You were both filming a video for the Williams racing TikTok page. It was meant to be a silly video of both the drivers answering some questions from fans in preparation for the Australian Grand Prix, which was kicking off the 2025 season. You already filmed the segment with Alex.

“What?” You asked incredulously, your brows furrowed at the crypticness of his query. He nodded his head as if it was obvious, waiting for you to read his mind. “See what?” You had a feeling you knew what he was talking about, but you wanted to hear it firsthand. Just to confirm.

“The string.” He lifted a hand, waving it over the string. It wavered, but quickly went back to its taut form. “You’re my soulmate,” He said it as if he was telling himself rather than you.

It was time to face the truth. There was no getting out of this one. “No,” You muttered, your trembling hands slowly pocketing your work phone. The video had been long forgotten. “I don’t do that soulmate stuff.”

He blinked, shaking his head like he was trying to snap himself out of a nightmare. “What do you mean you don’t do soulmate stuff?”

“I mean I don’t believe in it.” You huffed, pinching the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger. “It’s ridiculous. You mean to tell me the universe has destined us to be together? I mean, come on. You already have a girlfriend, and we just met. We’re both going on thirty— Why would we just now be meeting?!”

You sucked in a breath, realizing that you had been ranting unintentionally. After another sigh, you just shook your head and crossed your arms.

“You have visible proof, and you’re denying it?”

“Yes, because it’s just too… Insane to imagine.” It had always been that way— There was no life without soulmates, but some people denied everything out there. You were one of them. “I’m sorry, Carlos.”

He felt his heart shatter right there. With a deep breath, he shook the pain off. “Let’s just film the video.” You had no complaints to such a suggestion. Pulling the phone back out, you began to read off the questions while recording his response.

The season was going well… For one of the drivers. Alex was performing beautifully considering he was driving for a team with a… Less than great reputation. He had already scored more points in two races than he did during the entire 2024 season. It was the year of the Williams.

Carlos, however, was doing terribly. He was too distracted to think about racing at the moment. All he wanted was you. All you wanted was to do your job, and to avoid him. That’s what it seemed like, anyway.

He decided not to give up. You might not believe in soulmates, but surely you believed in love. Carlos would just have to win you over from scratch— The old fashioned way.

He broke up with Rebecca. It was hard, but she took the news well and wished him luck with his career. He was sure she was probably looking for her own true soulmate herself.

It started off slowly. He’d compliment you in passing, you’d thank him, and you’d both move on. But as the days went by, his efforts became more dramatic. Flowers delivered to your hotel room, light brushing of hands while walking, unintentional lunch and dinner dates where you guys just ‘happened’ to be in the same place at the same time.

If you could forget your bonded fates, Carlos was good company.

…

“What are your intentions?” You asked suddenly, taking him by surprise. It was another mishap where you both decided to get lunch at the same local place, and he chose to sit with you for whatever reason. He perked up, slurping up the noddles of his pasta.

“What?” He questioned innocently with the tilt of his head. You gripped your silverware tight, your jaw clenched. This guy was frustrating. Frustratingly charming.

“You have a girlfriend, why are you trying to woo me.” So you did know.

He wipes his mouth with a napkin, swallowing his bite before talking, like the gentleman he was, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“What?”

“I broke up with her,” He shrugged lightly. “I want to prove myself to you.”

This was extra frustrating. Some guy you barely knew, who just happened to be your soulmate, breaking up with his girlfriend to pursue you. “Why?”

“Because,” He looked you in the eyes, and you felt your breath hitch. “Maybe you don’t believe in soulmates,” He tapped his fingers against the table, carefully considering his word choice. “But you believe in love. So I’m going to prove that I’m lovable.”

You stared at him, taking time to process his response. This was hard, because you found that incredibly cute. With a flushed face, you just shook your head and began to cut up your own food aggressively, earning a chuckle from Carlos.

The whole team was celebrating. Carlos had managed to land himself on the third step of the podium during the Miami Grand Prix, with Alex just a few places behind him. It was the first podium of the year for Williams, and the first one in nearly four years overall.

The party, limited to team members and their friends only, was lively and exciting. But even with this grand accomplishment sitting on his shoulders, Carlos’ only concern was how you were reacting. He sought you out in the corner, sitting by yourself with your phone. You seemed content.

“Nothing to say?”

“Congratulations,” You replied with a little smirk, looking up at him. “What? Were you expecting more?”

“I’m not going to give up on you, Y/N. You’re my soulmate.”

You rolled your shoulders back, looking down to hide the fond grin on your face. “Keep trying, Sainz.”

[crescenthistory]

I'm so excited to see you're having a celebration, congratulations on the followers lovely!!

could I get you to argue for the red strings of fate au with bartylus x fem!reader. Maybe Regulus can see the strings (not everyone can) and has at this point told Barty about the two of them (though i see him having been extremely reluctant to at first and getting all angsty about it). But there was always another string and they never figured out who it was while at school. Maybe they start new jobs as adults and Regulus realizes the third is getting pulled more often so they must be nearby, but they are constantly MISSING HER. Culminates in them meeting, yada yada yada

Okay, kind of a lot of details, I had thoughts lol. Feel free to trim or edit wherever you please ~

thank you so much my love, you are an angel<3 this one was the hardest to write for some reason, but wound up becoming one of my absolute favourites! so thank you for challenging me xx art by vidhic0re

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 65 "red string of fate AU" with poly!bartylus

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: fem!reader, reg pov, established bartylus, suggestive scene, barty has abandonment issues (and thus is worried about a third soulmate), referenced mental hardship for them both, very fluffy, first-meeting

wc: 2.2k

Regulus had grown used to his life with an unknown string; comfortable, even.

When he met Barty at age 11 and could for the first time in his life see the end of one of his two strings, he had been too young to feel truly excited over it. Rather, it just became a fact of life for the two of them, something put aside for the time being and scheduled to be brought up again at a later point.

Barty couldn’t see the string, so he didn’t really get what Regulus meant all those years back when he mumbled “oh, we’re connected”. The scene he caused when someone explained it to him at a Yule Ball, and he barged up to Regulus, drunk out of his mind and confused, heartbroken and in love all at the same time, is one that still haunts them both. Just like untangling a knot, they talked it out in the hallway and then in the common room and then in the dorms and then in every other room they were in for the rest of their lives.

Because it was officially for life – and despite his jokes, Regulus would never have it any other way. 

The only thing that was left itching on his curiosity was this still-strange string. The one he had told Barty about, only to have him blow it off, calling it unimportant because “all I need is you, baby”. 

Regulus couldn’t disagree with that sentiment, but the curiosity still lingered. 

It lingered over months and years as they broke away from their families and bought their own – rather cramped, now without their money – flat in the boroughs of London. It lingered as they settled down in their separate lines of work and tried to make a life worth living. It lingered as the string would be taut or slack, almost as if their third was out there, swirling close and then away, just outside their periphery. He never pulled on it, even when his mind swam with possibilities.

Regulus climbed the ranks and became the manager of a new quill and parchment shop to rival Scrivenshaft's and Scribbulus, while Barty jumped from job to job, having a suspicious amount of commitment issues for someone quite literally tied for life to his boyfriend and some stranger. He had dabbled in everything from freelance bountyhunter that took too much enjoyment in hauling in extremist bloodpurists, to stand-up comedian that made himself laugh more than anyone else. It made Regulus roll his eyes, but Barty’s adventures truly were his greatest source of entertainment. 

Said entertainment was what brought them to a hotel room in Paris, lazily making out on the pristine white bed on the top floor. Barty had the wild idea of auditioning for a muggle circus there the day after – “just a momentary thing, Reg, c’mon, don’t you always call me a clown?” – and Regulus decided to make it into a faux couple's business trip to ensure his partner didn’t accidentally break the Statute of Secrecy. He told the higher-ups at his job that he was visiting their Paris branch for a few days to learn how to improve. Quite frankly, Regulus made them too much money for them to argue. 

“Be honest, you only came along because you wanted me all to yourself before I become a world star,” Barty teased against his lips, body sprawled out over Regulus’, tattooed hand resting idly around his neck.

Regulus let out a breath in between kisses, fighting an indulgent smile. “I want to make sure I get to keep you without your arse getting thrown in Azkaban.”

“What about my arse, hm?” Barty murmured, lips divulging on a path down Regulus’ jaw that was bound to turn his brain off.

There was but one thing that could break through the delicious haze of Barty.

His string pulled.

Regulus’ hands suddenly shot up to Barty’s face, gently but firmly pulling him away as his lips parted in shock.

Barty’s brows furrowed, concern beginning to seep in already. “Reg, wha–”

Regulus hushed him. His gaze was fixed, almost hypnotically so, on the shimmery red string that stretched out from his wrist, the one that only ever he could see or touch. The one that was currently drawn taut and shaking as if someone…  “I don’t believe it,” he whispered.

“Spit it out, Regulus.” Barty’s face was still filled with concern, taking on the tone of no-bullshit that was reserved for when he was worried his boyfriend wasn’t communicating with him. 

Remembering himself, Regulus let his thumbs brush gently over Barty’s cheeks, soothing. “I’m sorry amour, it’s just… the string. They’re pulling on it.”

A wave of relief and slight frustration washed over his face. “Merlin, Reg, that’s it? You had me thinking it was something important.”

This brought Regulus’ gaze back to Barty’s again, and this time, it was his turn to furrow his brows. “It is important, B. They've never pulled before, never been this close.”

His boyfriend dragged his hands up and down Regulus’ sides, soothing in their own right, as if trying to reassure any emotive reaction out of him. “Well yeah, sure, it’s intriguing, but it’s not gasp-mid-snog-and-make-your-boyfriend-piss-himself important.”

Regulus couldn’t help but snort. He began to sit up, pushing a willing Barty back with him so that they were sitting facing each other on the bed. Tentatively, Regulus intertwined his fingers with Barty’s on the hand the strings were attached to, his free hand coming up to trace the strange string in the air.

It was hypnotising – even Barty, who couldn’t see the string, watched Regulus’ fingers tracing the air reverently with rapt attention. “They’re here, Barty,” Regulus whispered, looking up at him through his lashes. “I’m sure of it. That is important.”

For a beat, Barty didn’t say anything, eyes flickering back and forth between Regulus’ as he breathed out slowly. Then, he drew the air back in sharply between his teeth, as if pulling a decision in with it, and squeezed Regulus’ hand.

“Alright then – let’s go find the poor sucker.”

This time it was Regulus’ turn to be bewildered, trying to hold onto Barty who was already moving away from the bed, free hand reaching out towards the hotel door.

“I– wha– Barty!” Regulus all but hissed, trying to hold him back. “We can’t just– barge in, we have to think this through.”

His boyfriend scoffed and rolled his eyes, all while wearing his signature grin. He turned on his heel, dragging Regulus closer to him by their intertwined fingers so that he could caress his side all the way up to his face. The green in Barty’s eyes seemed to shine brighter as he gently cupped Regulus’ face, bringing their foreheads together.

“C’mon Reg. This is pretty straightforward. If we have another soulmate, that soulmate is close by and important to you. So I say we go find them. Yeah? No need to overthink or overprepare. Isn’t the point of a soulmate that they’ll like us for who we are? If not, then fuck them, yeah?”

Barty’s pep talks were always difficult to argue against, no matter how much fault Regulus found in his logic. Tonight he didn’t have it in him. Instead, he gripped the back of Barty’s neck and brought him down into a searing, deep kiss – one that Barty had no problem returning in an instant. 

When they parted, both were smiling and panting. Barty looked endearingly at Regulus’ closed eyelids before they fluttered open to meet his gaze. 

“Yeah, okay,” Regulus whispered. “Alright. Just– just let me grab my jumper.”

Barty released his fingers in favour of Regulus throwing on a jumper, feeling, despite his insistence, that he needed some layer of protection against whatever might face him outside this hotel door. An eternal love, a stinging rejection, or – perhaps worse – no end in sight.

Regulus’ fingers traced the taut string in fascination while his free hand grasped Barty’s once more before they spilled into the hallway, a many-limbed mythical creature of jittering nerves. 

“You lead the way, babe,” Barty teased, squeezing Regulus’ hand reassuringly.

With bated breath, Regulus began following the string. It was still just as tight, but it hadn’t shook or shown any signs of being pulled for a few minutes. He was beginning to worry he had imagined it.

Until he rounded a corner and there – there the string ended. The string led straight to the door labelled with 117, disappearing in behind it. 

Regulus stopped in his steps, making Barty almost run into him.

“What?” Barty whispered, sensing the change in tension.

“It’s that one there.” Regulus’ eyes hadn’t left where the string disappeared in between the cracks. “Room 117.”

Barty’s breath hitched and Regulus swore he could hear him whisper sick, but chose to ignore it.

With tentative steps, Regulus moved closer towards the door until he stood in front of it. There was a faint sound of rustling and some form of indecipherable melody seeping out through the door, and though it might have been placebo, he felt oddly at peace in front of it. Choosing to follow Barty’s sentiments – don’t overthink – he lifted his knuckles to rap on the door once, twice, thrice. 

Any sound behind the door ceased. 

Regulus remained staring at the silver numbers on the dark brown wood, holding his breath. The complete lack of sound from Barty told him that he was doing the same, but he couldn’t bring himself to check, too wrapped up in the consequences of this singular moment.

No sounds from the door – but the string pulled once, twice, thrice.

Regulus looked down at the fickle thing, heart pounding in his chest. For the first time in his life, he wrapped his hand around the buzzing string and pulled too. An agent of his own fate, he pulled three times himself. Unsure if that was what he was meant to do, wholly unaware of what else there was to do.

To his utter amazement and deepest fear, the string went slightly slack, almost as if the other person had let it go. Instead, the doorknob twisted.

With rusted screeching hinges, creaking wood and the screaming of Regulus’ heart, the door swung open to reveal – you.

You stood before them, in an outfit they would come to know as quintessential you, staring at them with slightly parted lips and wide eyes. When his gaze trailed down your every feature, they finally landed on what he never thought he would see; his final string reaching out from his hand and circling neatly around your wrist. Regulus’ eyes remained trained on that sight, digesting it.

“She’s beautiful,” Barty breathed out. Not one for silences, not even now. Your eyes moved from looking at Regulus’ own wrist to Barty’s and then up to his face, still equally rattled. Barty cleared his throat a little and Regulus looked up to see a spark in his green eyes that he had seen many a time but never aimed at someone else. “You’re beautiful,” he clarified, daring to smile a little at you. 

To Regulus’ joy, you let out a laugh. It was an airy, almost teary laugh, one that summarised every intensity of this very moment. 

“Well, thank you… erm, and, hi.” Your voice was melodic, creeping up over Regulus’ skin and into his ears. 

“Hi, amour,” he whispered back, squeezing Barty’s hand reassuringly at the usage of his pet name. He tried to open his mouth to say more, but the words got stuck. 

“I… I can’t believe…” You seemed utterly bewildered as a smile grew on your face, taking them both in rapidly. 

Regulus had never considered what it would mean for their third partner that he and Barty found each other so long ago, that she had been without them both for so long, waiting, hoping. It made him a little choked up. 

“This is the strangest fucking thing I’ve ever experienced.” Barty’s declaration and accompanying laugh zapped Regulus of some of his remaining nerves. 

“Strange as in horrifying or… exciting?” Your voice was a bit small, but your expression was so encaptivating that Regulus saw Barty melting.

“Most excited I have felt in years. Certainly more than I will feel at the circus.”

A surprised bark of laughter escaped you. “At the what?”

Barty grinned – Regulus couldn’t help but do the same. “We have a lot to catch up on, love, but it… it would be an honour to do so. Mind if we come in?”

Your eyes shone with a glossy sense of endearment and mischief that Regulus knew would mould perfectly into their relationship. You took a step back and gestured inside. “Please do. Just don’t kill me.”

“Oh, he would never,” Barty said, already beginning to enter, suddenly more than eager to meet his last soulmate. He shot you a wink. “I might though.”

Regulus met your eyes as Barty’s hand dragged him in, milking the moment of eye contact for all its worth. “He won’t,” he whispered in passing.

“Oh, I figured,” you stage-whispered after him with a beaming smile.

You shut the door behind them, and a new chapter began.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Fixed point (mathematics) // The History of Perspective // "Point of Disappearance", Dennis Held // How the Hughes hockey family stays grounded // Fixed Point Photography-- // "Portrait of A.", Tung-Hui Hu // Mic'd Up | Hughes NHL 25 cover shoot // "Burnt Norton", T.S. Eliot // "Circuitry", Janine Joseph // Bruce Bennett // Nick Wass // from obedience [maybe one day, during a point in time], kari edwards // Bill Rapai // "Errand Upon Which We Came", Stephanie Strickland // Benchmark (surveying)

art kid luke hughes

[gublernatural]

Invisible String ❆ Spencer Reid

☃︎ SUMMARY: spencer’s new gf shows him a photo her mother sent. he happens to recognize it.

☃︎ WARNINGS: very short lol, mentions of diana and her dementia, all around cuteness

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

“And isn’t it just so pretty think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”

“Spencer!” You were practically sprinting through the BAU, with your arm extended and a phone in your hand. “Spencer!” You yelled with more urgency as you came to a clumsy stop behind his chair. He spun around to face you with furrowed eyebrows and a perplexed expression.

“Are you okay?” He asked, resting his hands on your hips for a moment, just briefly. He made sure you were steady before he let go, but he didn’t want to draw any more attention to the public display of affection currently going on behind his desk. It was hard enough to keep the higher ups off of your backs for just dating, let alone showing off your relationship.

You nodded excitedly, forcing your phone into his hands. “What is this?” He asked, looking at a thread of text messages from your mother.

“Look at the picture!” You cheered, leaning over to point at the image your mother had sent you. Spencer scrolled up a little bit, opening the photo. It was one he’d seen before, he knew that much. He couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, eidetic memory and all.

It was a photograph of a high school girl’s soccer team from around the 1950s. He recognized exactly one of them, his mother. She was dressed in a classic soccer uniform, with hair much longer than he was used to seeing her with. Spencer had seen the photo in a yearbook she had when she had first begun showing signs of dementia.

“That’s my mom’s high school soccer team,” Spencer concluded, not understanding why you were showing him this, or why your mother sent it to you.

Contrary to his confusion, you were full of glee. He looked up at you and was basically blinded by the radiant, beaming smile on your face. He was even more entranced by you when you spoke, “Noooooo,” you extended your words for emphasis, “that’s MY mom’s high school soccer team!”

You and Spencer hadn’t been together long, merely a few months. Due to the nature of your jobs and the way you were constantly on the go, he hadn’t had the chance to meet much of your family, not even your parents. The topic of them had come up, but he didn’t know much. You spoke more about how you grew up, telling anecdotal stories when appropriate.

“Really?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone closer to his face and scanning it for a woman who resembled you in any way. He could feel you excitedly nod, again, as he did so. “She said she knew your last name but couldn’t remember where from! She was cleaning out her storage closet and found her yearbook!” You were laughing as you spoke, mind blown by the crazy coincide.

“There’s like a one in a million chance this could’ve happened!” You explained, leaning down to point at your mother in the photo. He followed your finger, smiling when he saw her. You did have a bit of resemblance to her. He was so in awe of the situation that he didn’t do the numbers to figure out the real chance.

“How did we not know this?” Spencer asked, handing your phone back to you. “My grandfather was a higher up in the military, so my mom moved around a lot. She said she stayed at this school from 8th to 11th grade and it was the longest she was at one school.” You explained, still shocked by the photo.

“It’s like destiny!” You cheered. However, when you saw Spencer’s face twist up, your excited demeanor fell. “There’s no such thing,” Spencer declares, ever the man of science.

“Look up the Red Thread of Fate, boy wonder,” Penelope butts in from behind you. She’s watched the entire exchange. You smiled at having her be your back up, and because you could finally teach Spencer about something.

“That’s just folklore,” Spencer dismisses, brushing off Penelope’s suggestion. “Just admit it, Spencer!” You demanded, “there’s always been an invisible string tying us together!” You pulled him to a tight hug that only lasted for a second.

“Okay,” he agreed after contemplating for a while, “only because it’s very sweet that you think so.” With that, he turned back to his computer, trying to hide his blushing face.

[yanderecrazysie]

Intertwined (Yandere Oikawa and Iwaizumi)

Thank you again for commissioning me! It means the world to me! I don’t usually do poly, but I decided it would work best with your request!

Title: Intertwined

Pairings: Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader x Oikawa Tooru

WARNINGS: yandere themes, NSFW, non-con, bondage, branding, chubby reader, poly relationship, aged up characters of course

AU: Red string of fate Soulmate AU

Oikawa and Iwaizumi had been lucky to find each other early on- the red string of fate connecting them at the pinkies for many years now. They knew that each string only had two ends, but they had always felt like there was someone missing.

There was an emptiness that ached every time they were together. They always sat a little bit apart from each other, feeling as though someone belonged there between them.

“My project is about Pompeii,” came a timid voice from the front of the class. Oikawa, who had been barely listening to the world history projects, suddenly perked up at the sound.

His brown eyes shot to the front of the classroom. There, standing right in front of him, was a girl unlike any he’d seen before. 

You clutched the volcano you’d spent hours making to your chubby form, no doubt feeling self-conscious with all eyes on you- especially the wide-eyed stare from Oikawa himself. But he couldn’t help but stare! You were so cute, so squishy, so precious that he couldn’t believe someone like you existed. How had he never noticed you before?

You were the first one out the door when the bell rang. Oikawa slung his backpack over his shoulder and shoved through the crowd, clearly a man on a mission. You had barely made it out of the classroom before he intercepted you with a charming smile.

“Hi there!” he chirped, “I’m Oikawa Tooru. I was so impressed by your project! You’ve got a real eye for detail! How did you make that volcano look so good?”

You blinked, startled. Then, you clutched your volcano tightly and stammered out, “Oh, um, thank you… I just looked up some tutorials online for it… It’s nothing special.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Oikawa nodded, absentmindedly looking around for Iwaizumi, “Why don’t you eat lunch with me and my soulmate?”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding! Iwaizumi will be so excited to meet you!”

A crowd was starting to form and you were panicking slightly at being on display, “O-okay…”

Oikawa mussed up your hair and said, “Perfect! See you in an hour!”

You nodded and quickly retreated down the hallway. Finally, Oikawa spotted Iwaizumi leaving his class. Oikawa nearly tackled his soulmate- grabbing him by the arms and hissing, “I found our third.”

Iwaizumi’s expression didn’t change, “Don’t joke about things like that.”

“I’m not joking,” Oikawa shook his best friend roughly, “She’s perfect- I know you’ll love her! She’s meeting us at lunch in an hour!”

—-----------------------------------------------------------

You took your seat across from Iwaizumi and Oikawa in the cafeteria, unable to shake the feeling that you were being studied.

“So, how long have you been attending this university?” Oikawa asked, leaning in close enough for you to smell his minty breath.

“For two years.”

Iwaizumi, who had been initially staring at you with a mildly stunned expression, finally frowned, “Then how did we never notice you?”

You shrugged awkwardly, “I stay out of the spotlight and it’s a big university…”

Oikawa laughed, but there was a sharp edge to it, “Well, that’s not going to work anymore.”

You forced a smile but you didn’t really understand what he was saying. The three of you ate in silence, Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s eyes on you the whole time. The bell eventually tolled, signaling the start of a new hour.

“Let’s do this again tomorrow, sweetie,” Oikawa said with a dazzling smile.

Iwaizumi nodded, “Same time.”

“We’ll walk you back to your dorm,” Oikawa said as the three of you stood up and grabbed your trays.

“Oh,” you suddenly felt very nervous, “No, you don’t have-”

“We want to,” Iwaizumi said sharply. Unable to argue with that, you allowed them to walk you back.

They walked on either side of you, so that their red string of fate brushed against your legs several times. You stopped in front of your dorm room’s door.

“This is me,” you said softly. You unlocked the door and Oikawa immediately pushed past you.

“Where’s your roommates?” he asked.

“I dunno,” you said. You really hoped your RA didn’t think you were bringing boys into a “girls only” dorm room.

“Do you think they’ll be back soon?” Oikawa asked.

“They probably have classes…” you regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth. Oikawa’s eyes gleamed with excitement and, suddenly, Iwaizumi was pushing you into the dark room and closing the door.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa were meant for each other- working in harmony without saying a word to each other. The red string of fate could apparently be lengthened and these men were using it to their advantage.

Oikawa wrapped your wrists in the soft red string while Iwaizumi looped your ankles to opposite bed poles. You tried desperately to escape, but you couldn’t separate your wrists or move your legs at all.

You quickly closed your eyes as they started to undress.

“Rock Paper Scissors?” Oikawa suggested with a grin. Iwaizumi nodded, both men ignoring the sobs that suddenly spilled out from your mouth.

Iwaizumi won after a short battle of hands, and he crawled over your form on the bed, grasping your hips and raising them. He slid a pillow under your ass, giving him access to your unprotected cunt.

He dove in with his tongue, gently lapping at your slit at first, before thrusting the tip of his tongue inside. It wasn’t particularly pleasing. At least, it wasn’t until his lips closed around your clit and sucked lightly. 

You were focused on the pleasure, trying to mentally escape from Oikawa’s coos and laughs. When he pulled away, you let out a little whine, which made both men laugh.

“She wants you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa purred, “Better give our baby what she wants.”

Iwaizumi grasped his cock in his hand, using his thumb to swipe at the precum that was already accumulating at the mushroom tip. He was by no means small in length or girth and you were not ready for this at all. You closed your eyes.

You could feel him sinking into your heat, inch by inch, mercifully slow. It was quickly too much stretching for you and you tried to cry out. As soon as your lips parted, Oikawa shoved his cock inside.

You let out a muffled sound of surprise then gagged as it went too deep. Oikawa chuckled and brushed your hair out of your face. His hand then went to your round belly and gently stroked it. 

“So cute…” he cooed.

“Thought you were waiting your turn,” Iwaizumi muttered. 

Oikawa laughed, “I can go more than one round, you know that, Iwa-chan.”

The two looked at each other lovingly before turning their sweet gazes onto you. Iwaizumi pulled out and slammed back inside, starting a brutal pace that made you sob and gag around Oikawa’s cock. The former didn’t even bother with moving, since you were already vibrating his dick with every sound you made.

You tried to move your tongue from under Oikawa’s cock but accidentally succeeded in circling his tip with it, which made Oikawa’s hips jerk in shock, his orgasm hitting him by complete surprise. 

Thick cum spurted down your throat and partially filled your mouth until your cheeks were bulging with it. “Swallow,” Oikawa demanded and, despite not wanting to listen to him, you did so to get the taste out of your mouth as quickly as possible and not anger him.

Iwaizumi, unfortunately, lasted much longer than Oikawa, who had resorted to playing with your nipples- tweaking and pulling on them until it almost hurt. The attention to your breasts tied with Iwaizumi starting to hit your sweet spot caused you to wail through your own orgasm, shuddering from head to toe by the intensity of it.

Iwaizumi followed shortly after, pulling out and painting your round belly with ropes of white. The two men looked down at you, satisfied. You hoped it was over, but soon enough, Oikawa was playfully shoving his soulmate out of the way and taking his place. Iwaizumi swapped places and began gently sliding his still-hard cock into your mouth.

You wanted to say that it was too much and your jaw hurt, but you couldn’t say a thing without choking around his cock.

“Next time, our place,” Oikawa groaned through a slow, sensual thrust. Iwaizumi just nodded, still staring down at you as though you were all that mattered in the world just then.

—----------------------------------

You felt like a shell of your former self months later, sitting on the couch and “watching” a movie with Iwaizumi and Oikawa on either side of you. In reality, none of you were focused on the movie. You were trying to be, but it’s difficult when one man is groping your chest and the other has his hand down your underwear.

“Her mark is fading,” Oikawa pouted, eyes on your stomach. 

Your blood went cold, “No, please, not again!”

The words on your stomach read “Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, My Soulmates”. It almost looked like a red tattoo, but you knew better.

Iwaizumi held you down, using his red string to tie your wrists together like they do so often that it’s become second-nature. Oikawa held up the metal brander, the words that matched your stomach glowing orange with heat.

You screamed as he pressed it into your stomach, unable to hear their reassurances when in so much pain. It seared the words back where they belonged.

As soon as the fiery pain was lifted, you began to cry. All you wanted was to go back to university, maybe meet your real soulmate, and live a normal life. But if you were to say all that, your new soulmates would be furious. 

Oikawa gave you a kiss on the head, “You’re all we’ve ever wanted, sweetie.”

Iwaizumi nodded, “Mother Nature messed up not giving you a red thread connected to ours.”

And maybe, you thought as you felt your consciousness fading from shock and pain, maybe she did mess up. 

Maybe you were never supposed to meet them.

[dabi-drift]

I started writing this and got obsessed with Twisted Wonderland. I may have lost the plot.

Mash Burnedead x Reader (Mashle: Magic and Muscles):

Love was a feature of life that Mash needed you to unlock. You introduced him to it, to a kind that's just for you. He couldn’t feel this way for anyone else. You must've tied the red string to his finger, to make him yours before fate intervened. 

Even if it's by spell or by potion, you're so unbelievably beautiful to him. If you reached for divinity, you'd find a place for yourself at once, but you're the only god in his pantheon.

Sometimes he thinks about this too much, but just know that you're always on his mind, even when he's not listening to you.

Meeting you was the only time he'd ever wished for magic. He saw your angelic camouflage, and then he saw behind it, and he still wanted you. But you're a double-liner, in a world where magic matters more than people. But you know that the status quo isn't always right, and you don't judge him for what he can't control. That feels different against the backdrop of love.

Pops has a suit ready for your wedding.

He doesn’t realise how much he talks about you, until his friends point it out. And he has to ask, what does it mean to like someone? He has no experience and no tact, so he asks Lemon for advice. But she's still upset that he asked her for another plush so he'd know what you looked like as a creampuff.

That made being her roommate very awkward.

A barrier isn't a barrier to Mash; he'll break them all to follow the whispers of his heart.

But romance is a language you'll have to teach him. He keeps his eyes open when he kisses you, and he hugs you like it's the last time you'll ever let him. He swears your hugs can heal him, but maybe he just likes how you feel when you laugh.

[bluemari23]

new _world || choi seungcheol

summary: the night of your 18th birthday left nothing to be desired; waking up to no hint of any soul bond left you one of the unbonded. almost eight years later, however, you find out that you are very much not unbonded, and that your soulmate is someone who you admire. very much. pairing: choi seungcheol x reader genre: soulmate au, soul bonds, fluff, angst warnings: not a lot, overwhelmed and insecure mc, mc believes she's unlovable, bad thoughts, scoups falls first, hopeless romantic scoups, word count: 3.3 k part 1 of ?

masterlist

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

Despite the normal day you were having, bosses who never seemed to learn how to use their volume button properly and coworkers who continued to get into your space despite you constantly reminding them how much you enjoy your singular personal space, you felt the tension building in your body like no other. 

You could feel how tense your shoulders grew as the day trudged on, shuffling, and crumbling on the invisible weight that seemed to settle write in the crook of your neck and shoulder. “Coat hanger pain” is what your doctor had called it, another symptom of your undesirable stress and anxiety. No massage on earth could help it though, as you had been to numerous masseuses, some even recommended by your doctor. None had worked or even lessened your pain. 

By lunch time you had decided you needed a break, a well-deserved break, if anything. So, you had scheduled your couple-day wellness time, something your company thankfully provided despite your supervisors absolutely hating that they couldn’t deny the requests. You would be off work for the next three days, as well as the weekend, so five days total. 

That should definitely be enough time to relax and take the ever-growing load off your shoulders, you think, more like you hope. 

In addition to the break, you decided you would also treat yourself to your favorite take-out, having been depriving yourself of it as of late due to work.

It had been a split second decision, but something completely worth it as you kick your front door closed behind you and retreat to the couch, almost immediately dropping your work bag and coat onto the floor in favor of placing your food onto the small table that you had placed in front of your couch. 

You tried to ease your mind, empty your thoughts as you watched mindless reality television, but your attention was caught by a program about the research and cause of unbonded.

Unbonded were people who never received a soul bond on the morning of their 18th birthday. There are a few well known soul bonds. 

Soul transport, where one member of the soul bond transports to their other. 

Soul glow, where upon being in the presence of your soul mate, your body will glow in an attempt to draw the two souls together, only the people in the bond can see the glow. 

Soul bloom, where a crown of flowers favored by the other soulmate will appear and will only go away once you touch your soulmate.

Soul string is the last well known one, where the “red string of fate” ties you to your soulmate, growing thicker or disappearing depending on how close or far away your soulmate is.

You woke up to nothing. Not even one of the rarer soul bonds like the soul mark. You had waited, days, weeks, and now eight years later, you had resigned yourself to the fact you were one of the unbonded. It was something that constantly hung on the back of your mind, watching your friends and even coworkers discover their bonds and finding their soulmates over the years.

But it wasn’t meant to be for you. 

Suddenly feeling a little nauseous, you put the bite of food you were about to eat back into the take-out container, your thoughts getting to you again as the program continued to play. You had always dreamed about having a soulmate, someone who would love you unconditionally and take care of and be there for you. 

You had been so used to doing everything yourself, by yourself, that you secretly wished for someone to take care of you. Someone who you could just turn your thoughts off with and they would make all the important decisions for you. Maybe you just wanted ot be babied, you didn’t know, but you were tired of being alone and being crushed by the seemingly unbearable weight hanging from your shoulders at any given time. 

“Unbonded are found to be people who are deemed “unlovable” and individuals who don’t fit in with soc—” You can’t help but want to throw your remote at the man who spoke as you turned the television off. 

You had heard those words way too many times now and grew resentful at how those words hit right into your core. 

Yeah, you did feel unlovable sometimes, but you didn’t think that warranted not being gifted a soulmate by the universe. You tried to be better, to help those in need never when you yourself needed help, thinking that then, maybe then, the universe might take pity on you. 

“No!” you exclaimed firmly. There was no way you were gonna set yourself up for more unbearable thoughts and tear stained pillows. Not again. 

“You’re gonna sit, enjoy your food, drink some wine, and watch your favorite movie. This is a well-earned break and you are going to enjoy it.” You told yourself, trying to break out of the negative thoughts and mood you put yourself in. 

And that’s exactly what you do. You indulge in the food, watch your favorite movie, laugh out loud at your favorite parts, and even have a glass of wine or two. 

But you still go to bed dejected, taking the words of the program from earlier to heart. Maybe you were unlovable and unworthy of a soulmate. Maybe it was time for your dreams of having a soulmate to come to an end and accept that it just wasn’t meant to be for you. 

A small tear fell from your waterline as you fell asleep, heart and head heavy at the thought of your future. 

-*-*-

You dreamt you were enveloped in the best hug ever, big arms wrapped around you and small but loving kisses placed against your temple. You remember burrowing into the person’s chest, reveling in the warmth you were feeling and the sense safety you were experiencing. It was like nothing you had felt before. 

Seungcheol’s dream almost mirrored your own, his arms wrapped tightly around you, almost covering you with his entire body, holding you against him and keeping anyone else from seeing you so vulnerable. He loved how you fit just perfectly against him, how you curled deeper into his embrace, your nose nuzzling against his clothed chest, taking in his comforting scent. 

He couldn’t help but to bring one of his hands down your hip and to the back of your thigh, cupping it and moving your so your leg was propped up over your hip. He needed to feel closer to you, desiring to feel closer to you in any way he can. 

Neither of you wanted the dreams to end, but your phone alarm drew you from your slumber. 

“Fuck.” You bite out, having forgotten to turn your alarm off the night before. You try to untangle yourself from the warm weight you felt on top of you, holding you to them—wait a minute. 

You open your eyes, alert and scared at the fact that someone was in your room, in your bed with you, only to stare into the sleepy, closed eyed face of Scoups from your favorite kpop group, Seventeen. 

You blink heavily, trying to get rid of the sleep still in your eyes, almost hoping that your eyes weren’t lying to you. They had to be, right? There is no way your ult bias of all people was currently wrapped around you, holding you tightly to their chest. 

Your body tenses in shock, still for a couple of seconds before you try to forcefully remove yourself from the man’s embrace, surprise and slight embarrassment fill your body as he only tightens his hold on you. 

“Stop moving, baby.” You haven’t practiced your Korean in a while, but you knew you didn’t misunderstand his words as he tries to nuzzle into your hair.  “Go back to sleep.” 

“Uhm, excuse me, sir? I’m not sure how you got here, but I am really freaking out.” You whisper, not wanting to break the atmosphere but also wary of what kind of reaction Scoups will have once he realizes he isn’t at home in South Korea but in your bed in America. 

However, he doesn’t react like you thought he would. You imagined him pushing you away, maybe in disgust or fear, and angry yelling asking you what was going on or how he got here. None of that happened. 

“His eyes opened, not recognizing the room he was in or the person he was holding, but he knew exactly what had happened. Only one thing could explain what had happened to him.  

Smiling down at you, he couldn’t begin to think of how to express his excitement, only holding you closer whispering as he did so. 

“Finally.” You watched the word leave his lips, this time in English. Confusion flooded you as your eyebrows furrowed at his statement. You couldn’t understand what was going on. 

You had to be dreaming still, that was it. 

You were dreaming. 

But your alarm was still going off. 

“Uh, sir? I’m not sure exactly what you mean, but if you could let go of me, that would be nice.” You try again, hoping that some sense of the situation you found yourselves in would hit him, but it didn’t seem to work. 

“I’m never letting you go, not now that I’ve finally found you.”

Despite appearing unbonded, Seungcheol had always known he had a soulmate, had a feeling gripping his soul and wanting him to follow the feeling. He had always desired to have a soulmate, someone to take care of and who would understand his sometimes overprotective and possessive nature. He knew he would wait as long as he needed to, for any semblance of a bond to kick in, despite people trying to convince him otherwise. It wasn’t normal, he had been told, for late soul bonds to occur. But here he was, holding his soulmate to his chest, in her room only the heavens know where. 

Soul Transport.

His bond with you transcended space and time and brought him to where and when you needed him the most. He could see the tear stains on your cheeks, how puffy and red your eyes were. He had the sudden desire to hide you from the world, scaring away all of your troubles and worries and keeping you with him at all times. 

You would never be subjected to taking care of yourself ever again. Not while he was there to do it for you. All of your wants, needs, and desires would be met by him. Your soulmate. 

You were his soul. 

The only thing to snap him out of whatever trance he was still in, smiling softly down at you, was his phone ringing. 

Scoups reached down to the pocket of his sweatpants to grab his phone, giving you the opportunity to scramble out of his arms and bracing yourself across the room. You observed the idol, watching as what seemed to be disappointment crossed his face for a second before he answered his phone. 

“Hello?” Seungcheol answered the call, already knowing one of his members was the one calling him, probably wondering where he disappeared too.

“WHERE ARE YOU?! We’ve looked everywhere. We have a meeting with our managers in twenty minutes and you’re nowhere to be found!” Jeonghan yelled into the phone, making him wince and pull away for a second. 

“I’ve found her.” Was all he said, smile growing on his lips again. 

“Huh? What are you talking about? What do you mean you found her?” This time it was Joshua on the phone, grumbling coming from the background.

“I’ve found my soulmate.” Seungcheol was barely able to get his sentence out before he heard screaming on the other end.

You, on the other hand, was just lost in complete shock at the situation you woke up to. You went to bed last night crying about not having a soulmate and being unlovable, and now, now you had not only a soulmate, but your soulmate was your ult bias from your favorite kpop group. 

There was no way in hell you weren’t dreaming. 

Either that or the universe was really fucked up at the moment, giving you false hope only to probably take it back.

You couldn’t help but to watch Scoups, sitting up in your bed and holding one of your plushies to his chest, smiling as he listened to whoever was talking on the phone and responding back. You were too in your head to even begin to try and translate the conversation, caught up in the way he was just smiling at you, so softly and with all the love in the world. 

You weren’t gonna lie, it was making you a little uncomfortable. You were so unused to anyone looking at you in a positive light that you didn’t know how to react or think. 

A hand gently grabbing onto your own snapped you out of your thoughts, looking up to see Scoups looking at you concerned. 

“Are you okay, my soul?” Oh my gosh, his English was so adorable, you couldn’t help but fangirl for a second. He called you his soul. He called you his soul. He really did think you were his soulmate.

“Uhm, I’m not sure.” You replied honestly, truly unsure of how you were feeling. You felt tingles and sparks suddenly at his embrace of your hand and looked down, only for black words to slowly appear on your forearm right under the palm of your hand. 

His name was now written in black script on your arm. 

A soul mark. 

You looked at his own forearm only for your name to be written on his skin, your handwriting staring back at you. 

Now you knew you weren’t dreaming. 

Two soul bonds were rare. Almost unheard of. Your own bond with Scoups was soul transport and soul marks was an even rarer combination. Looking up at him, his expression mirrored your own, one of complete shock.

“Hello? Cheol? You still there?” The voice of Joshua came from the speaker on his phone, breaking the moment between you and your soulmate. 

“Yes, we are here.” His eyes refused to leave you, like he was trying to imprint the image of you into memory. 

“Hello there. My name is Joshua and I am a friend to your soulmate.” Joshua’s voice was so sweet and he spoke. You figured he was there to translate for Scoups, seeing as Joshua was from the states and spoke English fluently. 

“Hello Joshua. I uh, actually know who you are and who my, uh, soulmate is. I am a fan of your group.” The blush on your face wasn’t even considered a blush anymore. Your entire face was red from embarrassment as you looked at your Seventeen posters right behind your bed on the wall leading Scoups to look. You couldn’t even look his way once the smirk grew on his lips. 

“And I do speak a little Korean. I’m uhm, still learning though.” You finish off, looking anywhere but Scoups who was still holding your hand, his thumb now brushing softly against your palm. 

“Oh, you are a carat? That’s awesome!” You could tell Joshua and Scoups had become genuinely excited at the fact that you were a fan of them, and it made you smile a little bit. Joshua then asked for your name, and upon hearing you say it, you could see Scoups mouthing it, the gentle smile still on his lips.

After exchanging a bit of information about yourself like where you live and work, the conversation turned a little deeper.

“Well, Cheol wished for me to explain to you what needs to happen. I’m sorry about this, but soulmate laws are a little different in Korea.” You finally looked back to Scoups, only for him to bow his head a little bit. “Because your soulmate is South Korean, you are now considered a South Korean citizen and therefore, fall under our soulmate laws and registry.” Joshua finishes, but you still don’t understand what is going on. 

“I’m sorry, but I don’t quite understand what that means.” You tell both men, trying to make sense of why Joshua was telling you this. 

“Well y/n, it basically means you will need to reside in South Korea with Seungcheol, as South Korea has a ‘No Separation’ policy.” Your life seemingly flashed in front of your eyes. 

Yes, you hated your job and all of your coworkers, as well as your small, shitty apartment. But it was all you had for yourself. It was something you accomplished on your own. 

But you’ve always wanted to be taken care of. This could be your chance to be with your soulmate and he obviously seems to want to take care of you. your inner voice spoke up. 

It was true. Just from what you know of Scoups, he loves to take care of his members and those around him, but you had to remind yourself that you don’t truly know your new soulmate, only what the cameras show of him. 

“Seungcheol wants me to reassure you that he will do whatever he needs to do in order to make everything comfortable for you. Well, he actually wanted me to tell you that he will provide everything for you and that you will never want for anything again but it seemed a little too forward.” Joshua rushed out the last sentence causing a surprised laugh to leave your lips. 

It was almost too perfect. 

You had a soulmate who fit every wish of your dreams. 

Everything started to feel overwhelming. You didn’t know how Scoups was so accepting of this, seeing as he has had to wait longer than you have for the bonds to click between you two. You felt Scoups squeeze your hand before drawing you into his chest, enveloping you into his embrace. It’s like he could tell you were about to fall apart and he was there to hold the pieces together. 

“Our managers are already booking plane tickets for you to travel back here, and the plan will leave tomorrow morning. I’m so sorry about how fast this has to move, but for both of your safety and because of our hectic schedules, we need to get you both here as soon as we can. Is this enough time to get things sorted out for you? If not, when you arrive, our team will help you settle everything else.” Joshua’s voice seemed a thousand miles away and you felt like you were floating. 

“It seems I don’t have a choice, so yes.” You could feel Scoups squeeze you tighter before talking into the phone and ending the call. 

He held you for another couple minutes, not wanting to let go of you. You didn’t want him to let go either. You knew the bonds were real now, that your soulmate was indeed Choi Seungcheol from the kpop group Seventeen. The safety and reassurance you feel just from his touch was enough for you to accept everything. 

To believe everything would be okay. 

“My soul?” By the heavens above you loved his name for you. You don’t think you would ever grow tired of it. You could feel the heat rushing towards your cheeks as his name for you reminded you of everything going on right now. 

Reluctantly pushing away from Scoups, you made your way to your closet, looking for the luggage set your bought when you last visited your family. Once you found it, you turned around, only to find Scoups looking over your kpop collection. You grew a little embarrassed, really not expecting your soulmate to be a kpop idol. 

You needed to start packing if your flight was going to be leaving tomorrow morning. You set your luggage on the floor, earning you a look from Scoups who moved forward looking ready to do whatever is needed. A man on a mission. 

You were leaving tomorrow to live in South Korea with your soulmate, and by the heavens you would try to fit everything you could into your luggage set. 

[loveandmurders]

Red string and crimson hands (poly!Sinclair brothers x f!reader) - Part I

Hi everyone, I'm posting the first part of a new series requested by @mrstargayen09

The request: "In a world where soulmates are connected by an invisible red string, Y/N has always seen hers—threading through city streets, weaving between strangers, leading her toward someone she has never met. She’s always dreamed of a soft, fairy-tale romance, but fate has other plans. One rainy night, she finally follows the string to an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. Inside, she finds the Sinclair brothers again, mysterious and beautiful men with intense eyes and blood-stained hands. The string ties them together, but the sight before her freezes her heart—each of them is kneeling beside a lifeless body, fresh blood pooling beneath them. They look at her, fear flashing across their face. Y/N should run. She should scream. But instead, she steps closer. Something about them—about the way their string glows brighter, about the sorrow in their eyes—tells her there’s more to the story than just a crime. As they grow closer, Y/N learns the truth: the Sinclair brothers aren’t murderers by choice. They've been cursed, bound to take lives in exchange for their own survival and the continuation of their legacy. The weight of their actions has nearly crushed them—until she arrived, the one person who could rewrite their fate. But can love really bloom when their hands are stained with blood? Or will fate demand its price, tearing them apart just as they’ve finally found each other?

Back story: They're childhood friends and Y/N thought they stopped the killing after Trudy and Dr Sinclair died."

Warnings: no proof reading, reader wakes up at the hospital, amnesia, mentions of pain, panic, sadness, despair, blood, killers

When you opened your eyes, white was the first thing greeting you back to the world of the living.

But it was so bright, it made you wince in pain, and you unconsciously brought your hand over your face to protect yourself. For a brief instant, you thought that darkness was much nicer.

After a little while, you found the strength to blink your eyes open again; your survival instinct was probably kicking in and trying very hard to make sure you were in a safe place. It was funny in a way, because you didn’t remember being in danger before, and if you had been more attentive, you would have wondered where that thought came from. As you opened your eyes, your attention didn’t land on the room around you, but on the first colour greeting you back to reality: red. 

But unlike the brightness that seemed to completely engulf you, red was in the form of a string dancing in the air, like a playful friend waiting to be followed. You didn’t understand what it was; it seemed so unreal. You wondered if you were dreaming. That was until a doctor arrived next to your bed. She called your name once or twice before you finally looked up at her. You quickly glanced around you, and understood you were at the hospital. Your body fully woke up as pain made its presence known. You tried not to groan but you were getting physically uncomfortable. It even made you forget about the red string waving at you.

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asked

You wanted to reply but you struggled to talk and frowned in worry. She shushed you, trying to appease you. You eventually managed to creak out a “What happened?”

“You don’t remember? You had a bad bike accident. But you got very lucky, with just a few broken ribs and a head trauma. We just need to make sure that no other kind of damage happened.” she explained to you and you tried to remember the accident, but your memory seemed hazy. 

“My parents…” you whispered and she nodded

“We found your wallet, and called them right away. I need you to rest some more before I let them come and see you, okay?” she replied

You wanted to see them right away, but actually your eyelids were already heavy. She gave you some painkillers, and with the relief of the pain leaving your body, you fell asleep almost instantly. 

When you woke up again, you were in pain once more, but you felt more awake this time. You managed to talk almost normally too. The doctor came back and sat in front of you. She started to test your capacity to control your body, while keeping you in bed. And then she asked you questions about your past. 

You quickly realised that a lot of it was gone.

You remembered your name, your parents names, who was the president and other things directly linked to the present or to usual knowledge (you still knew how to read and write for instance), but you had massive black holes in your memory. For example, you didn’t remember the city you were born in.

It was making you panic. You needed to remember your past, you needed to remember all of this, otherwise how would you know who you were? The doctor appeased you once again, she understood it was frightening, but she was hopeful. You were doing well otherwise, and it wasn’t uncommon for an accident like that to alter the memory temporarily. She was certain it would come back to you very soon.

She finally agreed for your parents to visit you. You were so happy to see them and you started to cry. The shock of everything was hitting you hard as they tenderly hugged you, trying to calm you down.

“It’s alright, baby, you’re fine” your mother whispered to you and you nodded, the tears were slowly stopping.

When you told them you didn’t remember your past, your parents exchanged a look.

“You mean you don’t remember Ambrose?” your father asked and you nodded, even if the name seemed vaguely familiar.

“Maybe that accident is a miracle then” your mother murmured and your eyes widened at such words “No, I mean… I’m so sorry you’re in pain and you have no idea how terrified your father and I were when we got called by the hospital but… Ambrose is… a bad place with a lot of bad people, and it’s for the best if you don’t have to remember it anymore. Trust me, it’ll make things a lot simpler” your mother explained and you tried to believe her.

All the time you spent at the hospital, you had only two things in mind: the name of Ambrose and the red string. One night, you had asked about it to your parents, because you knew you could trust them.

“Oh so you can still see it?” your mother hummed

“In your mother’s family, one person per generation can see the string attaching them to their soulmates” your father explained “and in this generation, it’s you. You’ve always been able to see it, since the moment you were born.”

“And I didn’t follow it?” you asked

Your parents stayed silent for a little moment.

“Sometimes soulmates aren’t a good thing” your mother finally replied

“I don’t understand” you replied “if the string…” you started but your parents cut you off

“Please, baby, promise me you won’t try and follow it.” she begged you and you looked up at your father, trying to understand

“Your mother is right… There is a reason why your soulmates aren’t there by your side” your father added

“Soulmates? Plural?” you frowned “Wait you know who they are?!” you exclaimed

“Yes, unfortunately. You grew up all together. And you always said the red strings were attaching you all. And we always hoped it wasn’t true. When you got old enough to understand what it was, we couldn’t deny that they were your soulmates. But they are bad people. Their parents were dangerous, and those children…” your mother said

“A family of monsters.” your father ended

“They live in Ambrose?” you asked

“Lived. We don’t know now, and it doesn’t matter, because when we left, you agreed it was for the best. Awful things happened, and that is why we’re so happy you don’t remember any of it. You don’t have to bear this burden anymore” you mother continued

“You just need to never follow the red string, to actually stay far away from it, and everything will be alright. We know that sometimes you feel sad over the loss of your soulmates, but now you are free from that feeling.” your father added, quite hopeful it would be a new start for you.

Sadness.

Yes, that was definitively what you were feeling as you were quietly watching the red string. You didn’t remember your soulmates, but your heart definitely remembered them and what was forever gone.

From what your parents told you, you had been away from your soulmates for over a decade. You couldn’t imagine how terrible it must have been for yourself: knowing you had soulmates, knowing them, knowing where they were, knowing how to easily find them, and yet deciding to stay away from them. Your father had to be right, they had to be monsters or you wouldn’t have been able to stay away from them.

You didn’t realise tears were cascading down your face, until a nurse came to check on you and worriedly asked you if you were alright. You gently shook your head and tried to smile at him. 

It wasn’t just sadness.

It was as if something was missing. It was a hole inside your chest. It was such a cruel and violent desire that you couldn’t satisfy, and it burning you from the inside. You knew that curiosity killed the cat, and with everything your parents told you, you couldn’t have a look at Ambrose or at the end of the red string. It was too dangerous.

You needed to take the chance that you were granting, you needed to move on and to forget about the red string. Maybe that if you were focusing on other things, you could pretend it didn’t exist.

In a way, it was indeed easier, because you didn’t know what you were missing. Or at least, you knew that what was missing was actually something toxic for you and it was better to not have it in your life. You didn’t have any kind of tender memories with those people that would haunt you at night. You even tried to convince yourself that your soulmates weren’t loving or caring about you that much, otherwise they wouldn’t have let you go or they would have found their way back to you. If over a decade, they hadn’t been able to do so, it meant that you didn’t matter that much.

Yes, it was alright, you didn't want something you didn’t know anyways. It was alright if in this existence, you didn’t live with your soulmates either.

Soulmates are such an overrated concept anyways, right?

Trying to get better and out of the hospital allowed you to put the red string aside. Then you worked hard to get back to a normal life.

At night, you were welcoming the pain of your broken ribs, because it allowed you to focus on something else. 

Months went by and the accident was just a souvenir now. The only thing it left behind was this “luck” of not remembering Ambrose or your soulmates. You pretended everything was alright in front of your parents, your friends, your colleagues. Yes, you were happy, you were doing well, you were living a perfectly quiet and peaceful life. 

But at night, even in the complete darkness of your room, the crimson string was still there, hanging above your head.

Sometimes, you even woke up in the middle of the night, as if the string had tried to pull you by the wrist or the ankle out of your bed. One evening, you even found yourself talking to it, even if you knew it wouldn’t answer you.

“What’s the point? What’s the point of showing me the way to them, if they are bad for me? Aren’t soulmates supposed to bring you happiness and not just sorrow and pain? My parents told me it was better without them, so why are you still there? Why are you still trying to bring me back to them? I forgot about them, about Ambrose. I could be at peace, but no, you have to be there and to remind me they are waiting for me somewhere I don’t want to go anymore. I mean… My parents told me I don’t want to go. And I believe them. They are my parents and… I know that I feel something like fear when I try to remember about that place and them. And it’s not fear about remembering all the awful things that happened, it’s fear of them. So why can’t you just leave me alone?”

You grew obsessed with fairy tales and fanfics talking about soulmates. You tried to cope, in a way, and to forget about your reality. You needed to imagine another existence in which you would have good people awaiting for you.

One afternoon, you were basking in the sun with a book laying on your lap. You were enjoying the soft wind kissing your face as you were leaning against the bench you were sitting on. Everything was alright. You closed your eyes and just relaxed in this quiet atmosphere. You took a deep breath before looking around you again. You watched the red string weaving between strangers, dancing in the street, inviting you to follow it, like always.

When the desire to follow it was getting too strong, you always called your mother. You never told her what it was about, you just pretended you wanted to chat around with her. 

One time, you asked her about soulmate and the red string.

“Why are some of us able to see it?” you asked her and she sighed

“We don’t really know. My grandmother always said we had been curse by an evil witch” she tried to laugh

“You don’t believe it?” you wondered

“Before I just thought she was crazy, because she could see her string and her soulmate was a criminal. But now I don’t know” she admitted

“What do you mean, her soulmate was a criminal?” you frowned

“He was a killer actually. It seems that whenever a member of the family sees the red string, it means the soulmate will have hands covered in blood.” she said

“So my soulmates are killers too?” you shivered

“I never said that. But they are toxic and wild animals. Their parents were the worst” your mother replied

“Did they hurt me? Did her soulmate hurt your grandmother?” you questioned some more but were met by silence “Mom?” you called after a little while, wondering if she was still on the phone

“It’s… complicated” your mother replied and after that you hadn’t been able to get any more answers from her.

And it woke up something in you: they were your soulmates, so they couldn’t hurt you.

And you needed to follow the red string.

--

Part 2

[ctrlhope]

— Rest, Relax, Reserve ⊹ Series M.List

⭔ : Welcome in! Here at the Humbolt Insect Hybrid Conservation Park, we implore all of our guests to experience the wonderful world of hybrids living in their natural habitats! Feel free to interact with any hybrids that may approach you— however, please keep in mind that this is a no-touch park, these are wild animals after all. Please stay safe, stick to the trails, and enjoy your stay!

Please note: we are not responsible for any risks associated with entering our parks. Keep this in mind when exploring.

Information Board

⭔ : warning! most stories on this list are yandere-themed, meaning they may have elements of dark content in them. all have mature content within them as well. please read all warnings before reading each one!

⭔ : a/n! this series has spawned from my entomology class this semester! so enjoy a lot of useless facts about arthropods while falling in love with hybrid bts <33

⭔ : status! ongoing -> last update: Chasing Tornados

Looking for a sneak peak of the stories? Click here!

Kim Seokjin

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: blue morpho butterfly

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, lepidoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

Chasing Tornados ⊹ Min Yoongi

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: fattail scorpion

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, arachnida, scorpiones

-> Ever since you were young, you found solstice in the clouds. Found haven in their winding winds, their chilling storms. Monsters of the air meant to destroy became your love— your safety. You know everything about the skies, yet you only want to know more about him. Wish for him to love you just as much as you do him. Your best friend. Your scorpion. Your impossible. Your Yoongi.

Jung Hoseok

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: warrior wasp

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, hymenoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

Kim Namjoon

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: honey bee

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, hymenoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

The Pitfalls of Silk ⊹ Park Jimin

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: cobalt blue tarantula

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, arachnida, aranea

-> The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same.

— bites: 01

Kim Taehyung

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: domestic silk moth

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, lepidoptera

-> coming soon . . .

Jeon Jungkook

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: black garden ant

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, hymenoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

⭔ : disclaimer: all members of bts are face and name claims for all works on this blog. the pieces on this blog are entirely fictional and are in no way meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. any representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[empress-simps]

Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

[bradleysass]

red + string - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 631

James Potter doesn’t believe in fate. He believes in making things happen, in chasing after what he wants, in sheer dumb luck. But fate? No, that’s some fairytale nonsense, and he’s always been too impatient for fairytales.

Which is why it’s ridiculous that he keeps running into Regulus Black.

The first time, it’s the grocery store. James is pushing a cart with one wonky wheel, trying to make a very important decision between two brands of cereal, when he turns, and—bam—his cart slams into another. The other cart is filled with absurdly neat rows of organic produce, meticulously stacked like it belongs in a stock photo. And standing behind it is Regulus Black, scowling at him as if James has personally ruined his day.

James grins. “Fancy seeing you here, Reggie.”

Regulus exhales through his nose. “Don’t call me that.”

“You eat fruit? Thought you lived off espresso and disdain.”

Regulus blinks at him, unimpressed, and then without a word, steers his cart in the opposite direction.

James watches him go, feeling strangely victorious. He chalks it up to nostalgia—because sure, he and Regulus have crossed paths a handful of times over the years, mostly through Sirius, but it’s been ages since they’ve had an actual conversation. He almost forgets about it.

Until it happens again.

This time, it’s Remus’ apartment. James drops by unannounced (as one does when they have no regard for their friends’ schedules), barges into the living room, and nearly topples over when he spots Regulus curled up on Remus’ couch, sipping tea like he belongs there.

James stares. “Are you squatting here? Have you been secretly living in Moony’s flat?”

Regulus doesn’t even look up from his book. “I’m allowed to visit my friends, Potter.”

James gapes at Remus, betrayed. “Since when are you guys friends?”

Remus sips his tea, unfazed. “Since university. Some of us can maintain normal adult friendships without dramatics.”

James plops down on the armrest of the couch, still watching Regulus like he might disappear. He doesn’t. Instead, he flips a page, entirely ignoring James’ existence. James should be annoyed. Instead, he’s intrigued.

The third time, James literally walks into him.

He’s at an art museum, pretending to be cultured, when he gets distracted by a group of schoolkids loudly debating whether one of the paintings looks like an old man or a really ugly dog. He’s laughing to himself when he turns a corner and—

Smacks straight into Regulus.

James stumbles back, blinking. “Are you haunting me?”

Regulus looks up at him, unimpressed as ever. “This is a public space, Potter.”

“That’s what a ghost would say.”

Regulus rolls his eyes and steps around him, but James is quicker. He steps into stride beside him. “So, what’s your favorite piece here?”

Regulus narrows his eyes, like he’s trying to determine if James is being serious. He must decide he is, because after a moment, he sighs and gestures subtly to a painting in the next room. “That one.”

James follows his gaze, expecting something cold and dark, something perfectly curated and distant. But it’s not. It’s soft brushstrokes and warm colors, almost dreamlike.

“Huh,” James says. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the sentimental type.”

Regulus glances at him. “That’s because you don’t know me.”

James doesn’t have a good response to that. Because he’s right—he doesn’t know Regulus. Not really. But it seems, lately, that the universe keeps throwing them together, over and over again. And James has never been one to ignore an opportunity.

So he grins. “Well then, I guess I’ll just have to fix that.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow but doesn’t immediately shut him down. And James counts that as a win.

Maybe the red strings of fate aren't such nonsense after all.

[paperultra]

candy stripes.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5,048 words Warnings: Swearing, hospital setting [A/n: Soulmate AU. :)]

sortiger (adjective): delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular

Nobody else can see the string but you.

You wish you didn’t. It has no texture, no weight, so you can’t understand why it can’t be invisible too. But the string demands attention with every use of your hands, seizes your eye when you wash dishes in the morning and brush your teeth at night, a garish and bloody red that matches the stripes of your uniform.

You hate your string and you hate the color red.

Miss Xinyu, the old lady in Room 30, has one too. At least, that’s what she had told you when you gained the courage to mention yours one day, not knowing what it meant and how much you would come to dread it.

“It’s your red string of fate,” she had explained. “It connects you to the person who understands you more than anyone else in the world.”

In other words, your soulmate. Your one and only.

Miss Xinyu says you’re a lucky ducky, knowing what your future holds.

Her string goes into the ground now. You don’t think being reminded of a dead person whenever you look at your pinkie is very lucky.

The biggest reason why you hate the string so much, though, is because you’ve always had a problem doing what you’re supposed to unless you want to, which causes a lot of trouble for a nine-year-old girl. You already have trouble being nice to patients who are mean to you, so how can you love and wait for someone you’ve never met? It makes you feel icky.

Why can’t you choose? How come you have to have one at all?

Your only source of comfort is that your string is very, very thin and runs out of the hospital. That means your soulmate, whoever they are, is very, very far away. You’d very much like it to stay that way.

But it doesn’t.

—

Nurse Taoh wants you to watch the patients in Room 8 while he finishes his charts. You don’t really want to, if only because it’s Nurse Taoh asking – he likes to order you around more than Dr. Gu – but you don’t want to get into trouble again, so you go.

(… And okay, you are just a little bit curious about the new inpatients. You only know three things about them: one, they were brought in together last night while you were in your room poking holes into your paper instead of correcting it; two, they’re a man and a boy, presumably father and son; and three, everyone says it’s a miracle they’re still alive.)

(Then again, you’ve seen many miracles here.)

The unit is quiet as you walk down the hallway. Quiet, but not silent, as your polished shoes squeak like little mice against the floor and you whisper the room numbers as you pass by them. Two, four, six – eight.

You stop and knock, three sharp raps against the brown wood.

“Hello?” You open the door and poke your head in. “My name is –”

The squiggly-patterned curtain that often separates patients for privacy is drawn, and you clamp your mouth shut as you realize the patient closest to you is asleep.

Shutting the door silently, you creep closer to the foot of his bed. The man underneath the sheets lies quietly; he is little more than a skeleton, eyes sunken and bones sticking out underneath blistered skin. His beard is long and scraggly, but it pales in comparison to his mustache, each side braided and sticking out to the sides.

He looks angry, even though he’s sleeping. You hope he’s not the type to wake up and yell at you as you tiptoe past to check on the boy.

You pass the curtain, catch a glimpse of the bed sheets, and see –

Red.

Your feet root themselves in place, the room suddenly devoid of air.

You stare. Blink hard, twice. Look again. Then, trembling, you look down at your hand.

Your eyes trace the string around your own finger, following down to the dip of it that barely touches the ground and back up over the blankets until it ends in a red loop around the boy’s pinkie, tied off with a little bow.

Your stomach turns.

Stumbling forward, you make your way to the visitor’s chair in the corner. You slump down into it and stare straight ahead at the curtain, refusing to look at the boy’s face.

He continues to sleep.

You don’t want him to wake up.

—

The boy does not stir during your first meeting, but that small mercy is quickly eclipsed two days later by a single bowl of chicken broth.

The look on your face is sour as you walk down the hallway again, the broth splashing up against the lid with each step. Because most of the patients in the hospital you live in are elderly, the staff have somehow gotten it into their heads that you simply must spend time with the boy in Room 8 because he is your age and you need to socialize with other kids. You very much don’t want to. Not with him, at least.

Dr. Gu is just leaving the room when you arrive. She gives you a quick smile, the corners of her eyes wrinkling, and pats your head.

“So you heard that the boy woke up, huh?”

You grunt, looking away with a pout. “Can’t you give this to him, Dr. Gu?”

“Nope. I have to finish my rounds,” she says. “Go in and have a chat. His name is Sanji. You’ll like him.”

“I doubt it,” you mumble underneath your breath.

Dr. Gu probably hears you, but she doesn’t scold you, merely patting your head one last time before you enter Room 8.

The dividing curtain is drawn this time. The window curtains are pulled back, too; it’s a somewhat cloudy day outside, but bright enough to sharpen the shadows on the walls and make the boy look even paler than you remember.

His eyes are closed as you approach. A sprout of hope that he might have fallen asleep again blooms in your chest – you’ll just leave the broth on the table, you think to yourself, and go about the rest of your day. Nobody said you had to watch him drink it.

You get about five feet away, already planning to drop some books off to the other rooms, when the boy’s nose suddenly twitches.

His eyes open to thin slits. Your hope shrivels like a weed in the desert as he speaks.

“What’s that?” His voice is quiet and raspy.

Your eyebrow twitches. “It’s just chicken broth,” you say tartly, setting the tray down on the overbed table and turning it around so that it’s over his lap. You take off the lid and steam bursts from the bowl.

The boy reaches up to rub his eyes. The red string dangles from his pinkie, and you quickly look away with a scowl.

“Who are you?” he asks, scooting back to sit up more as he gradually becomes more alert.

Reluctantly, you give him your name. “Will you need help with the soup?”

He shakes his head. His gaze latches onto the contents of his bowl, and he stops, transfixed.

You scramble to stop him as he suddenly grabs the bowl and attempts to gulp it all down in one go.

“Don’t do that! You’ll throw up!” Without thinking, you seize his hands and pry the bowl away from his mouth. A few drops of broth splash over the blankets and his gown, and your irritation grows. Now you’ll have to fix that. “Drink it slowly.”

“I haven’t eaten anything for weeks,” the boy complains. “What do you know?”

“I’ve been studying medicine since I was a little kid,” you retort. “So I know a lot.”

He frowns. “You are a little kid.”

“I’m nine years old!”

“No, I’m nine! You don’t look as old as me!”

There’s no way this … this brat is the same age as you! Fuming, you let go of the bowl and jab a finger at his face. “I am nine years old and I know more than you! You can’t drink the broth like that!”

You’re met with silence. The boy’s eyes are wider than saucers. Pride wells up inside you at your ability to shut him up.

But then he puts the bowl down and seizes your hand, and your pride gives way to horror as he folds down your index finger and lifts your pinkie – the pinkie with the red string wrapped around it.

He lifts his own pinkie, the rest of his fingers folded. Your jaw clenches when you see how the string has shortened to mere inches, bridging the space between his hand and yours.

“Holy shit,” the boy says. The largest grin spreads across his face, and it’s blinding and scary and you hate it, you hate it. “It’s you! You’re my soulmate, aren’t you?!”

“No,” you reply quickly, whipping your hand behind your back and backing away. “No, I’m not!”

“But you see the string too! I knew I’d meet you some day. How come you’re”— he pushes the table away, eagerly but just gentle enough so no more of the broth spills—“how come you’re hiding it behind your back?”

“I’m not your soulmate,” you bark, panic rising in your chest. “Don’t you ever say that!”

You only catch a glimpse of the hurt that flashes across the boy’s face before you turn around and dash out of the room.

Mrs. Hong finds you in the storage closet later, curled up behind the shelves of gauze and IV tubing. She coaxes you out with a promise of rice balls and no questions asked. You wish all the adults were more like her.

—

The next day, Miss Jaylee hoists you over her shoulder like a human sacrifice and brings you to Room 8.

“I don’t want to see him! You can’t make me!”

“He’s refusing treatment and food unless he sees you,” the woman answers briskly, each of her steps jostling you up and down. “You don’t want to be responsible if Sanji dies, do you?”

“I don’t care if he dies!”

Miss Jaylee clicks her tongue and walks faster.

You flail, feeling a little guilty for your cruel words but too proud to take them back. Sanji couldn’t have heard you, anyway, and nobody here is going to let him die no matter what he does or what you say.

You hear a door swing open. Miss Jaylee walks into Room 8 and turns around, and you lift your head, glaring at Sanji as his face lights up and his cheeks turn rosy.

“[Y/n]!”

Your own cheeks burn in embarrassment at the position you’re currently in. This, you only now realize, is way worse than walking into the room voluntarily.

“How come they’re carrying you? Are you okay?” he asks.

“Let them treat you,” you snap, arms limp and dangling. “And eat your stupid food or I’ll get in trouble.”

“Okay.” You nod, opening your mouth to speak again only for him to continue, “But only if I get to talk to you afterwards.”

What is he, a prince?! What makes it so easy for him to demand such things?

“That wasn’t what you told them,” you protest, squirming, but Miss Jaylee only tightens her arm around your waist.

(“Be nice,” she warns. You growl.)

“It’s important,” Sanji stresses, looking pointedly down at his hand and then back at you.

You bite down on your tongue as the red string glimmers in the light.

Dr. Gu and Nurse Taoh stare at you expectantly. Your neck is starting to ache from craning it, and there’s a feeling that you’ll never stand on your own two feet again unless you do what he wants.

“… Fine,” you hiss through gritted teeth.

Only once you promise to stay does Miss Jaylee let you slide off her shoulder. You stand to the side, arms crossed impatiently as they take Sanji’s vitals and ask him some questions. He’s only half paying attention, head turning to look at you more than once, which you merely turn up your nose at.

“All right, we’ll leave you two to chat now,” Dr. Gu says. “If you need anything, just let [Y/n] know, okay?”

“Okay,” Sanji says.

With that, the three adults leave, and you and Sanji are left alone once more.

“I’m glad you came. They were starting to get mad at me,” he says, then cuts straight to the chase. “How come you don’t want to be my soulmate?”

“Because I don’t want a soulmate,” you immediately reply.

“But why? It’s nice, isn’t it? Being special to each other?”

“You can’t be special to me. We’re not even friends.”

For the second time, Sanji looks hurt.

“…We’re not?” he asks. You shake your head. “But … you brought me food.”

You’re befuddled. “Because Dr. Gu made me,” you say, trying to ignore the disappointment on his face. “Besides, I yelled at you yesterday. Friends don’t yell at each other.”

“I thought that you were maybe just really surprised …” His voice gets smaller and smaller. “Some people get mad when they’re just surprised …”

“I wasn’t surprised. I saw it when you were still asleep.”

“Oh,” Sanji mumbles. He looks down at the sheets, scratching at the wrinkle in the thin white fabric. “Okay.”

He says nothing more. You fidget, wondering if he’s pretending to look like he’s about to cry or if he really is trying not to. You’re not good with people who start crying.

You chew on your bottom lip. Sanji tucks his hand with the string on it underneath his bed sheets, his eyes disappearing behind his tangled hair, and fine, you feel kind of bad whether he’s tricking you or not.

“I’ll only be friends with you if you don’t talk about being soulmates,” you finally tell him begrudgingly. “Not ever, okay?”

His head shoots back up. “Really?!”

“Only if you don’t talk about it! I’m serious.” You huff at Sanji’s sudden change in mood and click your tongue. “If you stay sad you might not get better.  Don’t get the wrong idea!”

He nods, grinning bigger than ever.

Oh, dear, you think as he promises that he’ll be a really, really good friend, you might have made a mistake.

—

By the fifth day, Zeff, the man who was brought in with Sanji, is awake.

You hear them arguing before you see them, pushing a cart of books for Sanji to browse through as per your agreement the day before. They’re loud, and Sanji calls the man an old shitbag right as you knock and push the door open.

“I’m here,” you announce, and the two quiet down to look at you. You give Zeff a polite smile. “Hello, sir. I’m [Y/n].”

“Hello, little miss,” Zeff says, his features softening from the angry expression he’d directed towards Sanji a moment before.

“Why are you being nice to her and not me?” Sanji pipes up from his side of the room, all puffed-out cheeks and petulantly crossed arms.

“Because she don’t make my ears ring with nonstop whining,” the man answers sharply. “Now get a book and read so I can finally have some peace and quiet.”

“You get a book and read,” Sanji grumbles.

“What was that, boy?”

You cut in before they start bickering all over again. “Do you want a book too, Mr. Zeff?”

Zeff’s gaze flicks over to you once more, and your shoulders tense. The man takes a deep, calming breath, and then he sighs, reclining back into his pillow and closing his eyes. “No, thank you, little miss,” he mutters. “Reading’s no good for my head right now.”

“Do you have a headache?” He grunts in affirmation. “Do you want me to get a nurse?”

“No, no, don’t need any of that.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a headache,” Sanji accuses.

Zeff’s mustache twitches. “All you need to know is that you oughta stop yappin’ when a man wants peace and quiet!”

(Not again.)

As you give up and walk over to draw the curtains, Sanji says your name desperately. “Can we read somewhere else?” he pleads when you glance at him. “I don’t want to be stuck in here with him right now.”

Narrowing your eyes, you appraise his weak-looking frame, pointedly skimming past the red string that snakes over to you. “Can you even walk around yet?”

“Yeah,” he says defensively. He wriggles out of the bed sheets and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Holding onto the side rail, he stands up and grips the IV pole for support. Though he’s a little shaky, he shuffles a few steps towards you and smiles when he manages to do so. “See?”

Well, you think, if you and Sanji stay here, you’ll need to have some light in order to read. But it will probably help Zeff if the room is as dark as possible, so if you guys go somewhere else, Sanji’s lamp won’t need to be on.

“Okay,” you agree. “Wait here. I’ll get some slippers.”

Ten minutes later, with Sanji shuffling along in his slippers, IV pole in one hand and your arm in the other, the two of you arrive at the common room and find chairs in the corner to sit down in.

“These’re mostly history books and stories for old people,” you explain as you pull out the one cooking-related book you could find from the top basket of the cart. “This was the only food one I could find.”

“That’s okay.” Sanji takes the book from you and begins to flip through it. “Oh, this one’s about seafood in the South Blue! Have you ever had any?”

“No.”

“Me, neither. I’ll try it someday, though … hey, this fish looks like a fried egg!”

Against your will, you perk up. “… Really?”

For the next half-hour, Sanji fawns over the spices used on grilled Sea King meat and how to cook wine clams and the best fish for South Blue-style sushi. And it’s … not boring. He doesn’t hog the book, and the pictures are cool, and he asks you which ones you think are the coolest or would taste the best. Looking at a book with another kid is different from reading with an adult. It feels like you’re sharing, not like you’re being tested on your comprehension or how to pronounce long words.

Hanging out with Sanji is okay when the string doesn’t sour it.

“So you want to cook all of these one day?” you ask after scanning through a full-color page of steamed Ocean Hawk feet.

“I want to cook things from all four seas,” Sanji says. His legs bounce with excitement. “That’s why I’m gonna find the All Blue.”

“What’s that?”

The boy glows.

“It’s where the North, East, South, and West Blue seas all meet. Think about it – fresh-caught fish from all over the world all in one place! I’ll be able to cook dishes no one’s ever cooked or tasted before.”

You’ve never heard of such a place. But Sanji talks about it with such conviction, such resolve, that you figure the All Blue could really exist.

“I hope you find it,” you say, and you mean it.

“I will.” Sanji closes the book. “And when I do, I’ll cook something just for you. A-As a friend.”

He peeks over at you, his eyes even brighter and bluer than before, his cheeks flushing a familiar red. And you find yourself believing him, just a little bit.

—

Sanji keeps his promise.

You know he still likes you (blech) and so does most of the staff (double blech). Nurse Taoh thinks it’s funny and teases you about your little boyfriend in Room 8 who always asks where you are. Mrs. Hong reminds you to be sensitive whenever you stop by to pick up meals. Dr. Gu tells you to tell her right away if Sanji ever does something that makes you uncomfortable.

But he never does. Sometimes his words spill out clumsily like a broken faucet and other times he blushes and stutters, leaving you to wonder what he’s going on about, but he doesn’t try to kiss you or hold your hand, and he doesn’t say a word about the red string that is very much still there. If anything, he just annoys you at times, with how nice he is to you and how sunny he gets when you eat lunch with him sometimes.

You’ve never seen somebody so happy to be in a hospital before, even if it’s just because he wants you to like him. It’s weird.

It’s on the eighth day of Zeff and Sanji’s stay that you learn not everything is how it seems.

You’d gotten in trouble the night before for digging holes in the garden – you had kept the seed from your dinner plum and wanted to see if you could make it grow, but Miss Jaylee had caught you while taking Mr. Hu out for some air – so you’re somewhat grumpy on your way to Room 8, two notebooks in hand.

One of them is blank for Sanji. He wants to record all the meals he’s gotten and write down how he would make them. The second notebook is full of your notes that you need to study for your quiz tomorrow.

Zeff is sleeping again when you enter. You move quietly across the room to where Sanji is lying with his back to the door.

“Sanji.” You can see his shoulders tense underneath the sheets, but strangely, he does not roll over to face you. “I have your notebook.”

No answer. That is even stranger.

Frowning, you walk around to the other side of the bed. Sanji moves to bury his face into his pillow, but not before you hear a very soft, wet sniffle.

“Sanji?”

“Sorry.” His voice is high and so muffled you can barely understand him. “You can just leave it on the table.”

“Why are you crying?” In the back of your head, you know it is not the most sensitive thing to ask. But for some reason, you need to know. “I won’t laugh or tell anyone.”

You hear another sniffle from the mop of blond hair. It takes a long time for Sanji to answer, but he eventually does.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

Your brow furrows. “Oh,” you say, somewhat surprised. Most people don’t like being in a hospital, you’re pretty sure of that, but you didn’t know Sanji didn’t like it this much. “Why?”

Maybe he’s tired of getting poked all the time, or the bland food, or the hospital smell. Nobody here can change that. Maybe he’s homesick. The hospital can’t fix that, either.

Sanji turns his head slightly and takes in a small, shuddering breath. “’Cause it … it makes me remember my mum … when she was sick,” he mumbles, almost too quiet to hear.

“… Oh.”

You had assumed, upon learning that Zeff and Sanji were not at all related, that Sanji was like you and never knew his parents. He’d never talked about having any before, only his time on the Orbit and with Zeff. But he does know them – his mother, at least. And she was sick. The memory is what’s making him so sad, and it’s yet another thing that the hospital can’t help.

You don’t want him to be sad. You did make him your friend, after all, even if he does annoy you sometimes.

“I’m sorry,” you say, standing awkwardly with his notebook still in your possession. You remember what Miss Jaylee has told other patients before. “That, um, must have been really hard for you.”

Sanji squeezes his pillow more tightly.

Should you go? Should you talk to him some more?

“Please don’t tell anybody,” he whispers before you can decide. “Especially Zeff.”

“I won’t,” you reply firmly. “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry I can’t hang out today. I really wanted to, but, um …”

“It’s okay. We can do it later.”

“Okay.”

You set his notebook and a pen on the bedside table. After some thought, you refill his water and, after even more hesitation, fix the bed sheets on him a bit so they’re not as twisted up. That is the best you can do.

The red string follows you as you quietly leave Room 8, and you don’t think about it at all.

—

“How do you spell necessary?”

“N-E-S-E-S-A-R-Y.”

“That doesn’t look right. I think it’s S-S-A-R-Y.”

“Maybe you can find it in the book,” Sanji suggests, kicking his feet as he lies on his belly next to you.

“Yeah, maybe.” You flip through the pages of your textbook, searching for the correct spelling lest you get marked off again.

It is the tenth day. Sanji is doing alright, and Zeff is up and about with his new leg. Dr. Gu says they’re good to go, so they’re leaving after Zeff finishes breakfast. You’re not sure how to feel about it.

In the meantime, Sanji is helping you with your essay about scurvy. He knows quite a bit about it, which makes sense since he’s lived at sea, and you hope the perspective he’s supplying will impress Dr. Gu.

(“That’s why every ship needs a good cook,” he tells you proudly. “We make sure everyone eats right so they stay healthy.”

“That’s why you and Mr. Zeff are going to have a restaurant ship, right?”

“Mmhm.”)

Sanji rests his face in his hands, cheeks squished against his palms while you continue to scan through your textbook. You finally find the word in a photo caption and, with a triumphant noise, jot it down correctly.

Someone knocks on your door. The two of you turn to face it simultaneously.

“[Y/n]?” It’s Mrs. Guo.

“Yeah?” you call, already slightly irritated.

“Is Sanji there? It’s time for him to leave.”

A frown presses down on your lips. Sanji sighs and gets up as slowly as possible, taking his notebook with him.

“Coming,” he says.

The two of you dawdle on your way to the hospital entrance. You pet Cabby the dog when you run into him and his handler and stop by the kitchen so Sanji can thank the cooks. There’s no rush, not really, but an uneasy feeling continues to well up in your stomach anyway.

Upon arriving at your destination, Zeff waiting at the double doors with a giant bag of treasure slung over his shoulder, Sanji stops and turns to face you.

“I’m – I’m going now,” he says, as if just realizing it.

“Okay,” you say.

You and Sanji stand in silence for a moment before Sanji’s bottom lip starts to wobble.

Yours starts to wobble too. The uneasy feeling in your stomach bubbles up into your throat and behind your eyes.

“I’ll write you,” he blurts, voice cracking. “You’ll come visit, won’t you?”

“I don’t know.” You don’t know if they’ll let you. The hospital is busy and the ocean is big, bigger than you, and you don’t know it at all like Zeff and Sanji do. “But I’ll write back.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You are crying now.

For the first time, your arms wrap around Sanji, and he clings back as both of you bawl. Your tears and snot stain the shoulder of his brand-new clothes. Your uniform grows damp at the collar. It doesn’t matter at all.

“I don’t know if I’ll see you again,” you croak into his shirt, face hot and eyes blurry.

His grip tightens. “You will,” Sanji replies in between sniffles. “I know it. Even if it’s when we’re really old, we’ll see each other again.”

“Okay.”

You believe him. Not because of fate, but because you want to.

—

You write to each other every single week for the next ten years. You tell each other everything.

Well, almost everything.

—

“You seem nervous,” Nami says. “Don’t tell me a little bribery got under your skin?”

“No, no.” You wipe your hands on your thighs and try to relax against the back of the booth. “Just … not used to places like this, that’s all.”

The Baratie is nicer than you imagined. Sanji had kept you up to date over the years, sending newspaper clippings and recipe drafts as the restaurant he and Zeff founded grew in staff members and reputation, but seeing it in person is a whole different deal. You’re telling the truth when you said you’re not used to a place like this.

But it’s not why you’re nervous.

“Hey, look!” Usopp exclaims, pointing across the room. “I think those guys are gonna fight.”

The rest of you look. Near the kitchen, two men are arguing, and the pink-haired man sitting at the table stands up when the pirate shoves his food onto the floor.

Usopp sucks his teeth. “Yikes.”

Luffy leans forward in interest. Zoro simply stares, and Nami rolls her eyes.

One of the waiters approaches them. You watch as he tries to deescalate the situation, but neither party is having it.

The pink-haired man draws a gun.

Within seconds, the gun and both would-be brawlers are on the floor.

The waiter shoves his foot into the pink-haired man’s back to keep him down, then picks up the plate of bread rolls again, stepping over both groaning bodies with the ease of one who’s done it before.

He reassures the other customers as he approaches your booth. You’re not concerned about the fight so much as you are about the way that you know.

It’s been ten years, but you just know, even before he gets close enough for you to see the red string that trails up and disappears into the black of his pants pocket. Even before you see the blue of his eyes and the annoyed set of his brow, exactly the same as you remember.

He places the rolls down onto the table, and for the first time, you wonder what you want.

“Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?”