#linking posts that are along the same lines

[demie90s]

FUCK YOU.

Natisha Hiedeman x fem!reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: You and T don’t get along. Never have. On the court? Barking. Off the court? Subtweeting. In-person? Straight disrespect. So when y’all get chest-to-chest mid-game, no body expected that.

Genre: Enemies to whatever-the-hell-this-is. Diana x Seimone moment.

Word Count: ~ 1.5k

Warnings: Language, tension so thick it might sue, a kiss you’ll rewind 7 times

You couldn’t pay either of you to care.

Seriously. There was no flirty undertone, no slow-burn tension waiting to boil over into something sweet. Y’all did not fuck with each other. At all.

You were 5’9—5’10 on a good day. Masc, broad build, mouth slick. Played for the Phoenix Mercury: a team full of crash-outs, loud mouths, and women who didn’t blink when shit got heated.

You fit right in. Like you’d been born to the chaos.

Tish played for Minnesota. Fast, flashy, cocky as hell. Always got something to say. She wasn’t the problem. You were. Because you talk shit. Always have.

Sure—maybe you said something reckless during a press run after the draft.

Something like, “I don’t really see what all the hype is. She decent. Nothing special.”

Maybe she saw it.

Maybe she posted a little tweet. Nothing direct. Just a shady little “LOL” with a link to your stats.

So yeah. It started there. Just never cooled down.

Now here you were: mid-season. Nationally televised game. Crowd screaming, bodies hitting the floor, everything on the line. And as always, she found her way in front of you like clockwork.

Fourth quarter. Close game. You were already heated because the ref was calling weak shit all night. Then Tish brushed your hip on a switch—subtle, nothing illegal, but you turned your head real slow like bitch, I know you felt that.

“You always play dirty?” you muttered, not even bothering to whisper.

She shrugged, fake innocent. “You make it easy.”

“You bold today, huh?”

“Always bold,” she said, walking backward in front of you like she was guiding traffic.

You took a breath. Let it go. Tried. But you weren’t a “let it slide” type of player. Next possession, she boxed you out hard. You elbowed back. Light. Fair. She spun, elbow grazed your ribs.

That was it. You stepped forward. Not rushing. Just walking like you were going to say something smart and keep it moving. But she knew what was up.

Tish squared her shoulders, and that’s when it started. It didn’t feel like tension—not the kind fans drool over.

It felt like the way your mama used to walk toward you after you mouthed off in public.

“Ian hear you speak up” you said, low and sharp.

“I said you’re soft,” she replied, tone cool as ice. Condescending. Like she was tired of having to explain herself to someone beneath her.

“Bro. Wassup like what you on?”

“I wanna win. But if swinging helps you sleep at night—go ahead.”

Your jaw clenched. You were chest to chest now. You weren’t backing down, and neither was she.

Just when it was about to tip—when you were ready to bump her shoulder and maybe let it escalate—Tish smirked. Not cute. Not charming. That same little smile she wore when the scoreboard lit green. When she knew she had just ruined someone’s night.

She kissed you. Quick. Bold. Right on the mouth. You blinked.

Then you shoved her. Two hands to the chest. Hard. She stumbled back and didn’t even flinch—just laughed once, a breathy, obnoxious sound as the ref leapt between you both.

“Oh, now you mad?” she called over the ref’s shoulder, still grinning. “That’s crazy.”

“Yo—you really finna piss me off,” you snapped, voice booming across the court.

Your teammates were pulling you back. Tension high. Crowd screaming. Cameras flashing like it was the fucking Grammys.

On Twitter, they were calling it iconic.

“They’re soulmates fr.”

“Enemies to lovers speedrun!”

“no cause they’re so hot together 😭”

“REFF DOO SOMETHINGGG‼️”

No. You didn’t want her. You wanted to swing. You wanted to put belt to ass.

Back on the bench, she wiped her lip with the back of her hand and winked at someone in the crowd. You glared from across the court. If looks could kill, hers would’ve been a closed-casket.

Deep down, you knew the truth: Yeah, y’all would look good together. Matching builds. Fast mouths. Semi-alright tempers. A whole team’s worth of attitude between the two of you.

But if you ever ended up on the same roster? You’d quit the league. Because there’s no fixing that.

No talking it out. No post-game handshake. You started this. She escalated it.

Now it was just spite. Mutual. Nuclear. Glorious.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how damn good it felt to shove her.

I’m laid out in the hotel bed, hoodie on, durag tied, face in the camera like I got something to confess to the nation. My live just hit 8K viewers and climbing—probably because y’all messy and got no boundaries.

“Okay, so boom,” I say, flipping the camera to the ceiling for dramatic effect, then back to my face. “I’m on the court, doin’ my job, mindin’ my business. And guess who decides to turn a full-on argument into a damn rom-com?”

I stare at the screen deadpan.

“Natisha Hiedeman.” The chat explodes instantly.

“NOT THE GOVERNMENT NAME 😭😭😭”

“Kiss was fire tho be honest”

“enemies to lovers speedrun goin crazy rn”

“YALL HAD A MOMENT STOP LYING”

“Nah, ‘cause y’all really delusional.” I sit up straighter. “Moment? Ain’t no moment. That was a crime. That girl kissed me mid-rant like we was in a Disney Channel musical.”

I toss my hand in the air. “We was chest to chest like two pit bulls about to scrap, and she gone lean in like she in a romance webtoon.”

Another wave of comments rolls in.

“so did she use tongue or not 🧍🏽‍♀️”

“this got wattpad energy and I’m here for it”

“she kissed the attitude off you be fr rn”

“you lowkey looked stunned”

“I wasn’t stunned. I was… processing. Shocked. Violated. Genuinely considering jail time.” I scroll through the comments and squint because why y’all so bold?

“she ate that kiss tho admit it 😏”

“they’d have the prettiest babies”

“stop fighting and start dating”

“Y’all tryna matchmake two people who’d rather fight to the death over the aux cord. If I had to ride in a car with her for more than five minutes, somebody going out the window. Probably her. And he tf we having bab-shut up.”

And just as I’m about to end the live out of pure secondhand delusion, I see it: T5poon requested to join.

I blink. Sit up. “Oh hell no.”

“ADD HER”

“not the ops linking up 😭”

“STOP BEING SHY IT’S YOUR GIRL”

“don’t leave her on read be so fr”

I stare into the camera. “Girl get tf on. You bold online but can’t hoop without touching somebody’s face.” But I click accept anyway. Because clearly, I hate peace.

I WANT PROBLEMS ALWAYS!

The screen splits, and there she go—Tish. Fresh out the shower. Bonnet, sports bra, glowy skin. Buzzed blonde hair back like she know it’s her villain arc. She’s chewing on something—probably my nerves.

She smirks like she been waiting on this moment. “Missed me?”

I blink once. “Like a rash.”

“Don’t act brand new,” she says, leaning back into her pillow like we on FaceTime and not internet beef part 87. “You was feelin’ it.”

“I felt disgusted.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Your hands said otherwise.”

“Oh, you mean when I shoved you halfway back to Minnesota?”

“no cause why do they LOOK good together”

“this the hottest beef since Megan & Nicki”

“y’all both too fine to act like this”

“omg her voice is melting me”

“girl she eating you UP rn”

I scroll and squint at that last comment. “She not eating shit.”

Tish just sips her drink. “Keep talkin’. You still got my lip print on your cheek.”

“You got my handprint on your chest. Wanna compare?”

We stare at each other for a second, both of us fighting the urge to log off—but neither of us clicking that X.

“Why you even here?” I ask finally. “Ain’t you got a PR team to convince you didn’t sexually harass me on live TV?”

“I am the PR team.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Great. Public’s on my side. I’m the underdog.”

“Underdog???” I almost fall out laughing. “You kissed me unprovoked.”

“You walked into my space.”

“You exist in my space.”

“this is so gay I’m ascending”

“they definitely f*ckin at some point don’t lie”

“they got too much chemistry for people who hate each other”

“y’all need a reality show”

“I feel like I’m watching a very queer episode of First Take”

I shake my head, biting a grin. “Y’all annoying. Ain’t no reality show, ain’t no couple name, ain’t no storybook ending. This ain’t love. This is a restraining order waiting to happen.”

Tish grins like she’s won. “But I’m still in your live tho.”

“Because I added you. Out of charity.”

“Mmhmm. So when the next game?” she asks, stretching like she not plotting.

“Why, so you can kiss me again and get dunked on for real this time?”

“I like your confidence,” she smirks. “It’s cute.”

I click end live so fast the screen damn near cracks. The comments vanish. But her smug-ass smile burns into the back of my eyes.

@letsnowtalk @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog @kaliblazin @liloandstitchstan @footy-lover264

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

So I finished the trilogy and woahhh it was... well it was not what I'd expected lol. My thoughts are a little messy and jumbled so I can't put them into words rn and I can't decide how to feel about alina's ending.

But yeah the whole "Like sure, he put a fucking collar on her but she’s His and it’s Not Supposed To Be Like This." pretty much explains his thought process. What was it supposed to be like in his head? Wonder what would've happened if Alina had been an obedient little pet sun summoner and done everything just the way he wanted it. Would he have grown tired of her after sometime? Or if at any point in the books alina would've reciprocated his advances how would he have reacted? Also, just what exactly does he even want? Like if he'd gotten his perfect sun queen and ruled ravka would that be enough for him? Idk he's a weird little guy and I think nothing would satisfy him. Also sorry for yapping around in your askbox lol I read these books because of your takes so I didn't know who else to share my thoughts with 😅

Re: this ask Oh yeah. Yeah... the ending is bad lol. In some ways I can understand what LB was going for? But the end result feels wildly regressive for Alina as written. It's a real shame!

FWIW she said this about it in a Q&A: "In Ruin and Rising, Alina embraces her role as a Saint when she must, faces a dictator who she knows possesses greater power than she does, learns to rely on people to help buttress her own strength, murders her best friend because she knows the sacrifice is required.

What does Alina do after she loses her power? Brings down the most powerful Grisha in the world using her intelligence, courage, and the teachings of a woman who was her mentor and friend. Secures a pardon for Genya. Determines the future of the Second Army by selecting the Triumvirate (Zoya, David, and Genya) and getting Nikolai to put them in power.

And as for ending up where she began, Alina chooses to rebuild Keramzin and make it a place of love and learning where every child can be raised to be a valued citizen of the new Ravka, and where every child has a say in his or her destiny—Grisha or not. In other words, she gives orphans and refugees, the unwanted and disadvantaged, the opportunities she never had.

For me, these are not the actions of a girl who does not know her own worth. That's how I see the story, and that's why I wrote it that way."

And like... I get it... but... that isn't the narrative framing that actually exists in the series. It's not really a story that's about her being told that her only value is in her power and therefore her having to lose her power to see her own worth being the logical conclusion? And even in a scenario like that, I think you'd need to spend longer with her having lost her power and having to adapt without it, rather than it just being the conclusion of her story. The series sets up Alina's power as something intrinsic to her that she's been suppressing to be with fucking Mal, who textually doesn't appreciate her. Her growing into herself is explicitly tied to her embracing her power-- something the Darkling tries to wrest from her. Meanwhile the story continues to build up a conflict where it becomes increasingly clear that she cannot be with Mal if she continues to have her power (because she'll be more important than him lmao) so... the conclusion is that she loses her power and settles into obscurity... and again explicitly this is the only way she can be with him? Infuriating! I think Bardugo tries to frame Alina changing her name and going to live in the countryside as like a positive exiting of the narrative, being released from the burden of it. But the way the story is built just doesn't support that! Anyway, re: the Darkling, I agree that he would never have been satisfied with any outcome. He's had centuries since the creation of the Shadow Fold to build up the idea of the Sun Summoner as the cosmic answer to every one of his problems. As someone who exists specifically to fill the gaping hole in his withered husk of a heart lmao. And those just aren't expectations that any real, living person could ever live up to. Anyway, eye personally do not think he would have grown tired of her, for the same above reasons. The accumulated obsession is just way too intense and has basically nothing to do with her. So in a way, nothing she could do would kill it. As far as reciprocation. I mean I think he would've always gone gloves off with her at some point. The plan was always to use the amplifiers to control her. Even if she hadn't run away, at some point she would have refused to help him do mass murder, and he would've treated her the same way. Frankly, her running away was such a small mutiny, that itself tells you how little he's willing to compromise or give her any space. She hadn't acted against him, she was afraid and with good reason! It would've been so easy to just... tell her that Baghra was lying lmao. Just be nice and smooth things over! But he's fucking incapable. And I think reciprocation would've gone the same way. Like, in the first book she literally offers to work with him if he doesn't kill Mal. Which... would literally just give him a hostage to hold over her head forever. Like it was a good bargain for him. But he couldn't, because he cannot bear a situation where she gets to dictate the terms at all! He'd always want to make sure he has complete and utter control. I've speculated a couple times about "And then what?" scenarios about him winning though

[dashcon-two]

DashCon 2 Venue Announcement, Vendor's Hall, and More!

The DashCon 2 team is thrilled to announce the concrete answers to all your biggest questions. Where it is, when it is, how to buy tickets, and more. You ready?

TL;DR

Where: DashCon 2 will be held at the Japanese Canadian Cultural Centre in North York, Toronto

When: July 5th, 2025

What: Tickets will go live on February 22nd. Vendor Applications will be open on February 1st, and Panelist Applications on February 10th.

Our Venue!!

[6 Sakura Way, North York, ON M3C 1Z5]

Image belongs to Bartman905 on Wordpress

The JCCC has previously hosted plenty of other fan conventions, notably the Anime North Halloween Event and Pretty Heroes. Given their experience with convention hosting and gorgeous venue space, we think they’re the perfect fit.

So, why did this take so long?

Well… the JCCC wasn’t our first pick. Our first pick, who we won’t name, dropped us unexpectedly after months of negotiations. Why? Original DashCon’s reputation. We literally got DashCon’d before the convention had even started!!

While we were expecting this and had backup plans, we were blindsided by a rejection this late into the negotiation process. After reaching out to our other contacts, we settled on the JCCC, but we had to restart the entire process. So much of our planning had to be restarted or paused, which set us way behind schedule. Naturally, we didn’t want to say anything about losing our venue spot until we’d adequately replaced it.

We’re happy to say that the Classic DashCon Venue Struggle is over and done with - and our rental with the JCCC is paid in advance. No $17k hostage situation necessary.

However, all this provokes another obvious question: why did you go public with the project when you hadn’t signed with the venue yet? In short: Strange Aeons’ DashCon: An Extensive Oral History video. We were already knee-deep in the project behind the scenes before finding out she was making a YouTube video about DashCon, pushing the story into the public eye again. The team was concerned that declaring we were organizing DashCon 2 soon after Strange Aeons’ video would imply it was a rush-job inspired by her video. We were far enough along in the initial venue negotiations that we decided to go public with the video rather than after it.

Date & Time

DashCon 2 will be held for one day: Saturday, 5th July 2025. We alluded to using the same weekend as the original DashCon when we first went public, but unfortunately this date wasn’t available at our venue. This does mean it’s pretty close to the American 4th of July - in our defense, we didn’t really think of that, we’re Canadian.

The convention will open to the public at 9:30 AM and close at 9:30 PM. All this information and more will be available on our website.

(These hours may be subject to minor changes, please always check our website for our most recent info!)

Admission

Ticket sales to in-person DashCon 2 will open on Feb 22nd! Mark your calendars…

We’ll be processing ticket sales through Simpli Events, an all-Canadian competitor to Eventbrite. You can click here to find the events page.

We’re working on the feasibility of expanding DashCon 2 into a hybrid event, with live-streams of the most anticipated panels/events and some other informal online panels hosted on a private Discord. More information on those will come at a later date.

Vendor and Panel Applications

DashCon 2’s Artist Alley/Vendor's Hall is a space for independent artisans who create print media, handmade crafts, or other merchandise. If you want the opportunity to sell your merchandise at DashCon 2, then you’ll be excited to learn that vendor applications will open on February 1st!

Please see www.dashcontwo.com/dealers-hall/ for more details about tables, prices, and merchandise. The link to the application form will be posted there.

We’re also happy to say that we’re opening panel applications on February 10th! We have a few guest panellists already lined up (including a few we can’t talk about yet), but we’re excited to open applications to everyone with a good idea! All DashCon 2 panels will be moderated by our volunteer team, and we’ll put out more info soon about volunteer sign-ups!

[withlovemark]

THE LOVERBOY SERIES

“you can be my lover, i can be your love”

𝜗𝜚 welcome to the dream fraternity! seven dreamy boys, seven absolutely cheesy love stories where you’re the main character! warning: you might hate yourself during the process…but what’s love without a little chaos?

contains 18+ content

I. STUPID CUPID

pairing: na jaemin x art major! reader

synopsis -> mr. cupid — anonymous radio host. running the #1 most popular radio show on campus. famous for his thoughtful advice and classified as a true hopeless romantic. na jaemin — photography major, the sweet fuck-boy. described to be affectionate and gentle…but don’t fall for his tactics! once he’s done with you, he’s gone with the wind. your best friend unfortunately happened to be on the receiving end of this. what happens when you find out that the anonymous radio host is none other than na jaemin himself? sweet revenge.

II. FLYING KISS

pairing: childhood best friend! lee jeno x nerd! reader

synopsis -> you and lee jeno go way back, as in diapers and all that. before he was known as the chill fuckboy, he was an all time nerd! just like you! tired of being a loser who can’t even get the guy you wanted, you badly needed tips and a makeover. who’s better to ask for help than your childhood best friend, who has proven that a nerd can be sexy?

III. SORRY, HEART

pairing: friends with benefits! mark lee x tutor! reader

synopsis -> sex helps him focus. focus he needs for your tutoring sessions. it was a win-win for mark lee when you proposed to add a stress-relief session to the schedule. the favorite fuckboy and the girl who doesn’t believe in love equals the ultimate friends with benefits set-up. it’s the perfect dream team! but uh oh…it seems like mark has been shot by cupid’s arrow. will mark survive all of your attempts at pushing him away?

IV. IRREPLACEABLE

pairing: enemy! lee haechan x ex bff! reader

synopsis -> lee haechan, theatre major, absolutely hated your guts. you felt the same exact way. the only girl in this whole university that hasn’t fallen for the most popular fuckboy’s charms. which is why it sucks that you have both landed the main roles in the theater’s upcoming play, romeo and juliet. what was that saying about love and hate being a thin line?

V. MY FIRST AND LAST

pairing: bff! zhong chenle x fake gf! reader

synopsis -> zhong chenle, the lowkey fuckboy, captain of the basketball team, doesn’t believe in romance. flowers? chocolates? handwritten letters? ew. too cheesy. but he can’t seem to shake this crazy girl off of him so he goes to you, his best friend, cheerleading captain, for help. will you be his fake girlfriend? sure. the catch? it has to be believable so for the first time in his life he buys the flowers and the chocolate and writes the handwritten letters.

VI. BREATHING [IN PROGRESS]

pairing: fuckboy! jisung x TBA reader

synopsis -> park jisung has sworn off love after being cheated on. he’s been doing a really great job breaking hearts and not looking back. the boys are worried that they’ve taken fuckboy101 too seriously and have now created the ultimate fuckboy. this conversation was heard by your group of friends who never backs away from a challenge. and so the bets are on: get the ultimate fuckboy to fall in love with you and you’ll get $125 from each friend. deal?

𝜗𝜚 EXTRAs:

loverboy links (18+ only)

authors note: this is a work of fiction only and should not be taken seriously. the way the dream boys are portrayed in these stories are obviously not a representation of who they are in real life. thank you and have fun reading!

this post will be updated along the way -> likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated ⏦ﾟ♡︎

if u would like to be tagged when a story is up please do let me know :3

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] with a s/o with a mental issues pt.2 (the big sad)

Requests with sensitive themes are reposted with names that hint at the topic but aren’t explicit, to avoid censorship. On another note, I’m taking advantage of this post to promote myself and let you know I’m working on a mini-series of Arcane posters. Right below the "read more" line, you’ll find the link to two drawings and my other socials if you’d like to follow me elsewhere! Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky |

poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | | Steb poster |

Jayce:

- The panic man, but not in this scenario.  

- He usually notices a crisis brewing before it’s too late, and when he picks up on the signs, he intervenes immediately.  

- He’ll take you out for a walk to get some fresh air, clean the house thoroughly, and make sure to open the windows to keep everything well-ventilated.  

- Breakfast? In bed. Lunch? Strategically either at your favorite spots or something he cooks himself—things he knows you can’t resist.  

- If the crisis worsens, he’ll help you with dressing, making the bed, and even brushing your teeth if necessary, without making you feel bad about it.  

- He refuses to let you languish and is convinced that fresh air, a refreshed you, and clean, fragrant clothes will help you feel better much faster.  

- Get ready for some storytelling from any fairytale book he can get his hands on.  

Viktor:  

- He completely understands what you’re going through and notices it fairly quickly.  

- Viktor will be the first to personally help you while also suggesting someone who could support you—not because you’re a burden but because he genuinely wants you to feel better.  

- There’s no shame in asking for a little help.  

- Whether you’re up for it or not, he won’t push you, but he’ll try to stay as close as possible.  

- He insists on boundaries, though. Not hungry? At least two full meals a day.  

- Struggling with hygiene? He’ll buy you wipes, and if needed, he’ll assist you with washing.  

- He doesn’t want you to neglect your tasks, self-care, or well-being for fear that it might worsen the crisis or weaken you over time.  

- If you don’t want to go out, it means you’ll watch a series together—or maybe two. He’ll work on his projects at night, but you’ll never know about it.  

Ekko:  

- Ekko notices it less quickly than the others, not because he’s emotionally clueless but because in Zaun, feeling unwell is both common and a part of daily life.  

- He’ll pick up on it when you become less communicative, when he doesn’t see you around, and when he finds you lying in bed all the time.  

- He’s the least likely to push you. Don’t feel like eating? He’ll bring a plate along with some treats he’s managed to scavenge and leave them in your room so that if you change your mind, you won’t have to get up.  

- Really hungry? He’ll cook for you personally before you even ask, as soon as your stomach growls.  

- Can’t bring yourself to wash? You’ll do it when you feel better—there’s no rush, no pressure. No matter how messy your room gets or how much you stay confined to that tiny space, he won’t make you feel bad about it. He’ll ask if you want to take a walk, visit the kids, or suggest plans to stimulate you.  

Vander:  

- The man who managed the entire Undercity, four criminal kids, the mines of Zaun, and the enforcers doesn’t back down from this challenge either.  

- His approach is to never leave you alone.  

- In the morning, he’ll dress you, comb your hair, and carry you to the bar. If he has to visit Benzo or go elsewhere, he won’t leave you alone for even five minutes.  

- His reasoning isn’t fear that you’ll get worse but rather the belief that having stimulation without exhausting yourself will help distract you a bit.  

- If possible, he’ll take you to the bridge, maybe for a picnic.  

- You’ll always have a smoothie to drink so that, even if you don’t feel like eating, you can still get nutrients. At the same time, there will always be a plate of food on the table.  

- Breakfast? Wherever you want. The other meals? In the living room or at the Last Drop, so the air in your room can be refreshed.  

Silco:

- Before you even realize you’re having a crisis, he’ll leave some pills on your bedside table with a note explaining how to take them.  

- His goons—at least the younger ones—are almost like his children, so he’s used to this kind of situation and already has everything prepared.  

- If you lock yourself in your room, he’ll respect that; you need your space. But if it goes on for too long, he’ll feel compelled to intervene, if only to make sure you’re not wasting away.  

- He’ll ask Sevika to take care of you when he can’t—though she won’t be thrilled about it. Still, the kingpin doesn’t want you to feel neglected or entrust you to someone unreliable or incompetent.  

- He’ll adjust his work schedule to spend more time with you, though his requests will often feel more like polite orders.  

- In Zaun, there aren’t good doctors to turn to, so if the choice is between letting you get a rash, an infection, or washing you himself, he won’t think twice about doing it.  

- On the other side, he becomes much more affectionate. He’ll have you sit on his lap while he’s in his office and keep physical contact constant when you’re together, so you always know he’s there for you.  

Jinx:  

- “You’ve got the Big Sad,” as she calls it, speaking as someone with plenty of problems and few diagnoses.  

- Her approach is also a way of exorcising the illness, making it less scary.  

- Her main method of helping is cleaning and decorating her lair to make it brighter and more colorful, with cheerful music playing in the background and colorful lights stolen from Piltover.  

- If you feel up to going out, she’ll take you to Piltover, where the air is cleaner, there’s more sunlight, and you can soak up some oxygen and vitamin D. If not, she’ll steal anything she can—fruit, toys—so you have something to engage with.  

- When it comes to meals, she’s not great at managing herself. She often forgets to eat, and it’s her father who forces her to have complete meals. As a result, most of the edible things she’ll bring you are cookies, chips, pizza—tasty but not necessarily nutritious.  

- The important thing is that you eat.  

- She’ll try to negotiate with her father to skip missions for a while to stay close to you or go on them at night so you won’t notice her absence.  

Vi:  

- She doesn’t catch on too early but notices just before things worsen. She becomes very protective and more careful and kind in her actions, simply to avoid upsetting you.  

- Out of personal guilt, she won’t let you know if she gets hurt, to prevent you from worrying or feeling bad about receiving help.  

- If you drop something, she’ll immediately stop whatever she’s doing and come to you. First, she’ll reassure you that it’s okay—it happens to everyone—then she’ll help you clean up the mess.  

- She doesn’t care if you don’t wash or dress yourself; coming from prison, she’s used to such things. If you want to but can’t, she’ll help. But if you don’t want to because it’s your favorite hoodie, she won’t push.  

- When it comes to eating, though, she’s more insistent. She eats a lot, and Vander raised her with the idea that eating well is necessary to feel well. She’ll negotiate to get you to eat something—at least three times a day.  

- It doesn’t matter if it’s a small amount, not very nutritious, or not a complete meal. You need energy.  

- If you crave something specific, she’ll buy it—or steal it, depending on the cost—but she’ll make sure you get it.  

Caitlyn:  

- She’ll set up the guest room for you so you can stay at her place while still having complete independence.  

- With her job keeping her busy, she can’t take full days off to be with you, so she instructs the house staff to have your meals ready at specific times, change your sheets, and clean your room to ensure you’re as comfortable as possible.  

- To make up for her absence, she brings you pastries, slices of cake, or anything else she thinks you might enjoy.  

- If she notices you’re not eating, she’ll simply sit with you and talk about how you need to eat at least a little, asking about your preferences so she can make sure you get the meals you want.  

- In the evening, she’ll take a bath with you, washing your hair and massaging your back—both to make you feel better and to ensure you go to bed completely comfortable.  

Mel:  

- She struggles to notice something’s wrong until it’s too late or you tell her outright.  

- Her work consumes so much of her time and energy that when she’s with you, she doesn’t immediately pick up on any issues.  

- Her priority is keeping you in the light, which is why she moves you into her room with large windows to let the sunlight work its magic.  

- In the mornings, she’ll prepare a coffee, a pastry from the best bakery, and a glass of water with an effervescent vitamin C tablet for you.  

- Being a woman of science, she believes in medication, but if you’re not ready to seek professional help, she’ll at least ensure you take vitamins so your body doesn’t suffer as much as your mind.  

- The deal is that you can do what you want during the day, but someone will bring you meals (and you’ll need to eat at least half), and all hygiene routines are moved to the evening so you can do them together with her help.  

- Bath, shower, teeth, skincare, hair—you do everything together while chatting (as staff change the sheets and tidy the bed so you don’t feel burdened).  

- She’ll try to skip the least important meetings to have meals or at least coffee with you, making sure you’re not left alone too much.  

- At least three times a week, she gives you small errands to run, knowing that getting outside, walking, and fresh air will do you good.  

Sevika:  

- It might not seem like it, but despite her gruff exterior, she has a very soft heart. Surrounded by people with problems, she quickly notices when something’s wrong.  

- She won’t bring it up first; instead, she’ll ask how you’re feeling, and if you hint that something’s off, her response is, “Do you want to talk about it?”  

- If you break down while talking, she’ll hold you close, not interrupting or offering opinions. She just listens, lets you vent, and gives you something to wipe your tears. It’s not coldness—she simply wants you to process the pain at your own pace.  

- She’ll mention it to Silco, at least to arrange more regular or reduced hours, ensuring you’re not left alone for too long.  

- When she returns from a mission, she always tries to bring you something nice or that reminds her of you—a vulnerable gesture she wouldn’t usually make so lightly but does willingly when you need it.  

- She’s unbothered by smells; if you don’t wash, she won’t push you. She just wants you to feel okay. At least once a week, if you can’t manage it, she’ll wash you herself to lighten your load, turning the moment into an act of care.  

- If she has to leave at night, she’ll tuck you in, whisper that she’s heading out, and leave a glass of clean, fresh water and a sweet treat on your nightstand to reassure you that she didn’t want to leave but had no choice.  

[mesetacadre]

I think a lot of the people you'd associate with the "start a community garden! support local businesses! make zines!" posturing and who are at least nominally sympathetic to communism conceptualize of organizing as a series, or more specifically, a collection of broadly "good" actions that are possible in the short, short-medium term. And it is worth pointing out that this does not come from nowhere, it's a more extreme version of the mental shortcut essentially all organizers end up taking. Oftentimes, when you're working within a party or organization, there are a set of actions and activities that become routine, justified implicitly by their own frequency. This isn't necessarily a problem, but it can be one if left unacknowledged and unchallenged. Along the lines of this post, effective organizing is practical, yes, but based on a careful collective analysis of the external, political context and the internal, organizational realities, if you allow me the semi-correct dualism. We don't do things because we can and they're good, we do them because it's the best course of action to further the medium and long term political agenda of raising consciousness towards challenging the bourgeois' power.

So what I believe happens to those people I mentioned at the beginning of the post is that this fetishizing of the usual activities is so extreme there isn't even an actual concrete analysis of concrete reality at some point in the past to point to, and things are done because they appear to be good in some intuitive sense. For example, you might look at the Black Panthers' free school meals program and attempt to imitate it as closely as possible, instead of actually learning that the school meals program was correctly judged to be something that could really demonstrate the possibility and power of classist worker's organizations, to further their goal of eventually contesting the US' bourgeoisie, in the context of the situation of the US's schooling of poorer children. Much like reading theory, the point is not to learn about anecdotal events, but seeing how conclusions where reached that lead to actual victories, large and small.

Especially for those with the ailment of horizontalism, you'll encounter plenty of orgs mostly making post-hoc and hasty justifications for doing things for which there simply wasn't very much thought put into. Once again continuing on the ideas of that post I linked earlier, this happens because those same people do not have actual programs that can guide their own independent activity, instead substituting it with a long list of things they're against and concepts they abstractly support.

[lady-of-ithilien]

I'm not sure if anyone has posted about this previously, but I was re-reading the Houses of Healing chapter in ROTK today, and noticed an interesting detail: the scent of athelas changes for each person upon whom it is used.

When Aragorn uses athelas to awaken Faramir, the text notes that "a living freshness filled the room, as if the air itself awoke and tingled, sparkling with joy." And for the observers in the room, "the fragrance that came to each was like a memory of dewy mornings of unshadowed sun in some land which the fair world in spring is itself but a fleeting memory." (ROTK 865).

Yet, when Aragorn next uses the herb to rouse Éowyn, the observers note something different: "it seemed to those who stood by that a keen wind blew through the window, and it bore no scent, but was an air wholly fresh and clean and young, as if it had not before been breathed by any living thing and came new-made from snowy mountains high beneath a dome of stars, or from shores of silver far away washed by seas of foam." (ROTK 868).

And finally, when Aragorn awakens Merry, the athelas smells "like the scent of orchards, and of heather in the sunshine full of bees" (ROTK 869).

What I think is interesting here is that for each person, the scent is different, and could be seen to evoke a landscape that is dear to them: for Merry, the description of orchards, heather, sunshine, and bees seems quite clearly linked to the Shire. And for Faramir, the "living freshness" and "dewy mornings" might describe the vales of Ithilien.

What's interesting to me is the description Tolkien chose to give Éowyn's version of the athelas, because it doesn't seem immediately connected to any landscape with which we can associate her. An alternative explanation is that Éowyn is consistently paired with winter and ice imagery, so the idea of "new-made, from snowy mountains" could simply be an echo of that same imagery; in a similar vein, the "shores of silver far off" could just be a vague allusion to the blessed lands of Valinor, and not really specific to Éowyn at all. Moreover, either of these images could simply be a poetic way to convey a sense of renewal and cleanliness; i.e. Éowyn being washed clean of the Black Shadow.

However, my pet headcanon is that perhaps the description of Éowyn's athelas is meant to suggest that she has a special emotional connection to at least one of these landscapes. In my mind, this is most likely the mountains; after all, the White Mountains are not far from Edoras and it is conceivable that she either visited there at times, or at least admired them from the valleys below. Perhaps the sight of the high, snowy peaks were a source of comfort and inspiration to her as she struggled against the confines of her life in Edoras. Along those lines, I suppose it's also conceivable that Éowyn visited the sea at some point; or at least that she dreamed of it, and that to her the sea represented an escape from her intolerable situation.

Either way, we'll never know for sure, but this was a fun little detail to read into.

[thanergetic-hyperlinks]

Tamsyn Muir's writing beyond The Locked Tomb

Y'all, turns out there's lots of imagery and themes in TLT that Muir was already playing with in her earlier fiction. A lot of it is easily available online, in which case I'll link to it. (The short stories that aren't can also be easily read if googled, to be quite honest—that's how I read The Deepwater Bride and Why the Mermaids Left Boralus). • The House That Made the Sixteen Loops of Time (2011)

5K. Short sort-of-cozy romance (?) with (you guessed it) a time travel loop. Explores a very queer potential relationship. CamPal enjoyers might find a similar sweetness.

• The Magician's Apprentice (2012, Lightspeed Magazine)

5K. This is the one that stopped me dead on my tracks. It features an older, male mentor figure called John (a “very ordinary man” with “dark eyes”) who introduces the young, female main character to magic that has a terrible cost—and to literature such as Lolita. This excellent post by @familyabolisher does an incredible job of analyzing the very deliberate intertextual links between TLT and Lolita.

• The Woman in the Hill (2015, Lightspeed Magazine, originally for Dreams From the Witch House anthology of Lovecraftian horror by women)

4K. Possibly my favorite! It's a straightforward Lovecraftian horror, centered on the image of the woman (is it human though?) trapped in an unnatural pool inside a cursed cave. Chain imagery too. It does something different from Alecto, mind, but you can see links, ways of playing with facets of a strong central image. It's fun to consider how reliable the two narrators are. Here's an analysis and afterthought from Reactor Mag.

• Chew (2013) 4K. Zombie abuse and cannibalistic revenge story ft. an uncanny woman revenant, told from the eyes of a traumatized German boy. I was strongly reminded of Harrow's conversations with the Body. Tamsyn gave an interview on the themes and her intentions. Interesting to read in light of Alecto, I think, although I don't think she's going the same route in TLT: “the idea of post-war rebuilding connecting to rebuilding the body of the zombie; a Frankenstein who once rebuilt doesn’t act as planned or desired. […] I love cannibalism […] it’s innately spiritual […] any afterlife she goes to, he’s going too.”

• Apothecia (2014, published on Tumblr and tapas.io)

Short webcomic where an alien monster tries to corrupt the ruthless human girl who holds it captive. Musings on responsibility and murder, mention of child abuse. The alien's speech patterns remind me of a Resurrection Beast. You get wonderful dialogue like “Murder is a profession. Job. Employment, you tiny leg dog. There you are, walking along. Walk walk walk. Now you are a walker. Good job. Special child. Murder is like this.” Art by Shelby Cragg.

• The Deepwater Bride (2015, Fantasy & Science Fiction Magazine)

The opening line is: “In the time of our crawling Night Lord's ascendancy, foretold by exodus of starlight into his sucking astral wounds, I turned sixteen and received Barbie's Dream Car.” Need I say more? Extremely fun. A novelette where a young queer girl from a clairvoyant family struggles with an apocalyptic event while being annoyed by another very plucky girl. Lots of descriptions with nerdy marine zoology terms. Close in tone to Gideon. In the background, someone dies EXACTLY like that one death at the end of Gideon, which makes me wonder what happened to make Tamsyn interested in this particular image. I also liked that Tamsyn is aware of Nightwish. No link, but you'll get a PDF immediately if you Google.

• Union (2015, Clarkesworld Magazine)

5.5K. Very weird, extremely Kiwi story about a town that gets sent lab-grown wives by the government, but they're not made the usual way so they're Weird and people have feelings about it. Fascinating and eerie description of non-human (in some people's eyes, sub-human) women (?) who cannot be observed to have recognizable feelings or thoughts, yet have some sort of inner life. Quite touching, very uncanny.

• Princess Floralinda and the Forty-Flight Tower (2020)

Short novel (~200 pages). Very funny. I was reminded of Coronabeth because the whole plot is “princess finds herself branching out into decidedly non-princess-like activities”, but other than that—this is a fairytale for adults about people who make eachother worse. No particular links to TLT but a very fun read with some gut punches. Extremely Tamsyn through and through, what with the dubious morality and all.

• Why the Mermaids Left Boralus (2021, in Folk & Fairy Tales of Azeroth by Blizzard Entertainment)

Set in the World of Warcraft universe. Haven't read this one yet, will report back lmao. As with The Deepwater Bride, no link but I easily found a PDF of the entire compilation. It's illustrated!

• Undercover (2022, from Into Shadow, Amazon Original Collection)

Haven't read it either. Will edit once I do.

[gojover]

i was debating making this post for a long, long time, because i don’t like getting political on a fandom space, but as an indian, i felt the need to talk about this. i can’t engage in fandom content without feeling deeply guilty & worried for all the soldiers and innocent lives already lost and at stake, so here’s a brief masterpost to spread awareness about what’s going on in jammu & kashmir at the moment.

i have linked all my sources, and have aimed to be as unbiased as possible. if you find any discrepancies or inaccuracies, please don’t hesitate to tell me so that i can edit accordingly.

before i get into any of the actual details, i want to talk about what triggered this entire conflict between india and pakistan: the pahalgam attack, which took place on april 22, 2025.

(it’s also worth knowing that the india vs pakistan conflict over J&K is not something that was caused by this isolated incident; there are decades of history between the two countries dating back to the partition of india. you can read briefly about it here.)

the pahalgam attack was an attack on 26 tourists by five armed militants in a popular tourist destination known as baisaran valley (located in india-administered kashmir), which is surrounded by dense pine forest and is only accessible by foot or horseback.

the militants singled out the men & asked for their religion, before shooting the hindu and christian tourists. the attackers also asked some tourists to recite the islamic kalima to identify non-muslims. of the 26 people killed, 25 were tourists and one was a local muslim pony ride operator who tried to wrestle a gun from the attackers before being shot. the tourists included several newlywed couples, and the men were shot point-blank in front of their wives.

some hindu men were forced to remove their trousers to check for a lack of circumcision before being shot at close range. the militants also told some hindu women that they were spared so that they could narrate the horrors of their mens’ killing to the prime minister of india, narendra modi.

the national investigation agency (NIA) formally took over the pahalgam terrorist attack case on april 27. the lashkar-e-taiba proxy the resistance front (TRF), claimed responsibility for the attack.

in retaliation to the pahalgam attack, india launched operation sindoor on may 6, 2025.

the indian armed forces carried out precision strikes at around 1 am on terror infrastructure in pakistan and pakistan-occupied kashmir (PoK). nine sites were targeted, and each were selected because they had a history of association with major terror plots and infiltration attempts against india (such as the 2001 parliament attack, the 2019 pulwama attack, and the 26/11 mumbai attacks). no pakistani military facilities were targeted, as stated during the press briefing on may 7.

you can read about the nine sites & why they were targeted here.

as an additional note, it is worth noting that the central government directed all states and union territories to conduct mock drills on may 7 across 244 categorised civil defence districts in the event of a hostile attack.

following the indian attacks on may 7, pakistan resorted to unprovoked artillery shelling across the line of control (LoC), resulting in 13 casualties, with the poonch sector in jammu being the worst hit. this is not the first time pakistan has violated the LoC ceasefire agreement.

as of the time of writing, several cities/districts present on the border of the two countries have been facing blackouts. this comes as a counter-offensive against pakistani drones and missiles which violated the indian airspace several times over the entire western border with the intent of targeting indian military facilities along the western and northern frontiers. however, india was able to neutralise this attempt to hit military stations in jammu and other locations.

tl;dr: this thread on x offers a more concise version of the same events.

the main reason i wanted to make this post is because i saw this post on x and had to take a minute to recover because. genuinely what the actual fuck. in my opinion, a caucasian british person should be the last person speaking up on this matter. the selective activism and hypocrisy is glaringly obvious.

edit: here are a few more resources that provided good insights into what’s happening

articles on the pahalgam attack and its immediate aftermath: one two three

regarding the TRF statement: one

more articles about india/pakistan escalating the war: one two three

posts about what’s been happening in azad kashmir: one two

how to download tiktok (if you’re indian): here

please take the time to read through these and educate yourselves if you’re unaware of what the conflict is about.

[rivereverie]

I’ve just been thinking about how important Astarion’s hands are to his identity. I feel like the brainrot is taking over that I’m trying to analyze this, but hear me out. It's more my rambling thoughts than analysis.

All of Astarion’s practical skills are intimately tied to his hands. Finesse. Dexterity. He tosses daggers, picks pockets, picks locks, disarms traps. Even when it comes to his hobby of sewing and embroidery, that’s all about hands and fingers too. He rolls coins along his knuckles to show off. Astarion takes pride in what his hands are capable of.

His hands are also used against others. A way to hold someone back. Hold someone down. To have them in his hands. Touch is a power of his, practiced for decades, to pleasure and manipulate others. Wrapping them around his finger. In the palm of his hand. Hands are what we use to push someone back. To grab the collar of a shirt. To hold a dagger. They are tools of control. 

We get two lines about him being loath to “break a nail”, and as I once spoke about in an analysis post on Astarion’s expression of vanity, this is clearly an example of his mask, distracting from vulnerability. It’s not a stretch to read into these lines about his nails as alluding to his time in the crypt. Clawing in desperation at a coffin lid for the better part of a year would do much more than break nails. That year wore away so much of his identity, as it did his hands. It was loss and helplessness.

Hands can also be a symbol of violation. A hand being forced. Grabbing. Prodding. Taking. Hurting. Claws scraping. Curled fists. A bruising grip. The stuff of his worst memories and nightmares. Even gentle, loving touch does not feel safe or enjoyable to Astarion for a long time. He's used to hands only ever taking. His own included.

Hands are so often used as imagery for autonomy, responsibility, and guilt. Blood is on our hands specifically because they are considered instruments of will. It's interesting that Astarion’s story is all about these themes, too. In the end, the hands that were forced to drag so many souls into Cazador's grasp were the same ones that drove a dagger through the vampire's heart.

Hands are also meant to reach out. To hold on. To carry a torch to light the way. To caress. To link fingers with the hand of another. To create and build. To express and feel. Hands (both his and those of others) have the same capacity for gentleness, giving, and connection as they do cruelty, and that's something Astarion finally believes, by the end.

And his hands will never be forced again.

- (The dialogue screenshot above is from 'A Dream Of Silence' by abigailmoment. I'm just using it illustratively)

[alex51324]

Now, more than ever, we need to be careful about spreading misinformation and rumors

I can guarantee that over the next few months, we'll be hearing about a lot of alarming things going on here in the US. Some of those things will be true, and some won't. (And some will have both true and false or exaggerated elements.)

It's going to be absolutely vital that important information is not drowned out by misinformation, rumors, and ragebait.

That means, when you see something that would be important if true, before sharing, you check whether it's actually true.

In library world, we use the acronym SIFT:

STOP: Don't spread the information, or get caught up in your emotional reaction to it, before you've checked it out. INVESTIGATE: Who is saying it? How do they know? If there are links or sources in the post, do they actually say what the person is saying they do? FIND other coverage: Do an internet search for key details: quotes, people's names, specific locations. If something major is happening, there will normally be a lot of coverage. TRACE claims, quotes, and media back to their original context.

Usually you don't need to do all four things: just STOP and then pick what makes sense from the other three. If you decide to share the information, you can also say what you did--"This is a firsthand account from XYZ protest; it lines up with what the local TV station is saying, but has a lot more details about what the cops did," or whatever.

The more urgent the information seems, the more important it is to make sure it's reliable.

If we're hearing every other day that this or that vulnerable group is in immediate, life-threatening danger--but 49 times out of 50 it turns out to mean Trump rambled somewhere about something which, if actually implemented, could end up having the described consequences at some point down the line--then people aren't going to know the difference the one time in 50 when the danger really is immediate.

Think, here, things like immigration crackdowns, CPS investigations into parents who affirm a trans child's gender, or demands that health care providers report miscarriages to law enforcement. We all know that these are things Trump World talks about a lot and would like to be able to do, in some form. For the sake of the people affected by these topics, we need different ways of talking about, "Here they are, back on their bullshit," versus, "This is a policy proposal for a real thing that could happen," versus, "Holy shit, grab the kids and run."

We cannot go to "Holy shit, grab the kids and run" every time Trump, or someone in his inner circle, decides to bloviate about something that could disastrously affect people lives. The people who are most in danger can't stay at DefCon 5 every day of their lives, and when they do really have to grab the kids and run, we need that alarm to be heard over the constant background hum of dread.

The same goes for action items--whether protests, ways to help, or little things people can do to stay safe/sane. There's going to be plenty going on, and nobody is going to be able to do everything, so do your part by passing along those things that you can vouch are true and important, and skipping the things you aren't sure about.

I'll leave you with an example. Remember how a few years ago, we were all-in about hand hygiene and disinfecting surfaces? And then it turned out that those were not actually very important in terms of preventing the transmission of COVID-19, and what we really need is better air filtration in public spaces--but, at my work at least, we still have canisters of surface-disinfecting wipes sitting around, and tattered old signs up about hand hygiene, and no air filters.

At the time, early in the pandemic, we were sharing the best information we knew about how to stay safe, but people got a little too fixated on that initial advice--remember how people would wipe down their groceries? And those little sticks for pressing elevator buttons?--and then when the advice changed, they didn't want to hear about it.

Distrust, fatigue, superstitious attachment to the old grocery-wiping ways--there were a lot of reasons, but the key thing to take away is that attention, energy, and goodwill are all finite resources. Try to avoid wasting it with grocery-wiping--or worse, shilling for the guy selling little sticks to press elevator buttons with.

[buriedpentacles]

How to Work with Nature Spirits

Warning: Long Post under the Cut!!

Before getting into this, I want to preface that this is heavily based on my experiences and UPG. This is intended to be a helpful guide for anyone not sure on where to start but my Number 1 piece of advice will always be: Just go for it. Your experiences will be different from mine and that's a good thing! Be respectable and figure out what works best for you. With that in mind, let's get into it.

First, let's define 'nature spirits'. Nature spirits may conjure a number of associations and concepts depending on your culture, religion or practice! For the purpose of this post, 'Nature Spirits does not refer to any nature-associated deities or entities such as The Fae, Dryads/Naiads/Oceanids/etc, Elves etc - while many of these practices could be applied, each of these entities has specific cultural and religious etiquette attached that I'm not going to get into!

In this post, Nature Spirits are the spirits of all natural things, following the animistic view that everything has spirit. Plants, animals, rocks, metal, landscapes, etc. This is an incredibly broad definition, that can be narrowed or adapted however you see fit, nature is not an easily defined box. You can create your own categories or definitions, if that makes it easier to understand. For example, I may categorise certain spirits by a dominant element, or biome, or breadth, but these categories will always only ever be guidelines. (Note: at some point I want to make a post about different nature spirits along with some personal experiences. Will link here!)

Which brings us to the next point: accept that nature is not neat, and neither are the spirits. There is a level of overlap between different spirits that cannot be easily discerned - there is no clear, easily drawn line between the spirit of The Forest and the spirit of the Trees. The Spirit of that One Particular Crow is not entirely separated from the Spirit of Crow, but they are also not the same. The Spirit of the Stream will flow into the Spirit of The Ocean and you cannot pull them apart, yet you can still work with one but not the other. It is all a tightly interwoven web of spirit, it mirrors the balance and entwinement of the complex ecosystems all around us. Spirits and energies can shift and change with each meeting because of the changing seasons, the time of day, the influence of the landscape around it, or just because. Some spirits can be particularly variable, and it's important to recognise this! When working with nature spirits you must be open minded and adaptable, meet them as they are.

So how do you actually work with them?

This can largely depend on your goal, so I'll break this into two categories; A one time or "casual" relationship, or building a long-term relationship. I have both of these types of relationships - it would be impossible for me to have a long-term relationship with each individual spirit, but sometimes I want to ask them for help. My long term relationships are with Nature itself, and a handful of plant/animal/land spirits, the rest of my practice is made up of much shorter-term relationships that are made much easier by my long-term relationship with Nature. Again, figure out what works for you!

Working with Nature Spirits Once/Casually

Maybe you have a specific spell or petition that you think a nature spirit would be PERFECT to help you with. Or you want to add an extra bit of oomph to your spellwork by working with the spirit(s) of your ingredients. Or maybe, you just want to give (nature) spirit work a go. Whatever the reason, sometimes we just want a short-term relationship with a spirit. This can also be a helpful approach if you want to take something from nature* (i.e. a tree branch to be your wand, some flowers as spellworking ingredients, etc) and want to ensure it's permitted and you respect the spirit.

The best way to approach this, from my experience, is to be honest with the spirit, and respectful. Some Nature Spirits have no interest in helping someone they don't have a relationship with, and some spirits don't want to help period. Leave an offering for the spirit (expanded upon in the Offerings section further in the post), call upon them and ask them if they would be open to what you need. It really can be as simple as:

"Spirit of Oak, I ask you humbly if you would aid in my enchantment. I give you this offering and ask if I may take one of your many branches. I ask that you may allow your magic and wisdom to stay with it and empower it to be my wand. Thank you."

You may get in an answer through divination such as tarot or runes, through your clairsenses, or you can ask the spirit to provide a sign. If they say no, respect that. Thank them and leave. If you aren't willing to hear no, you should not be working with spirits.

If they say yes, but give certain requirements - i.e. "Yes, but only so much. Yes, but I want an offering of xyz in return. Etc" respect that and consider if you're willing to oblige. If not, thank them and leave. Spirits do have preferences and requests, and sometimes they change over time! I.e. in Summer, Oak may be happy for you to take one of his branches, but in Winter, when he and his wards (Oak, in my experience, is a very protective and familial spirit, often charging himself with protection of the land he lives on) are struggling, he may only allow you to take it if you agree to leave some extra bowls of water as an offering.

This doesn't just have to be a one-off, even for short-term relationships. If you are asking for quite a lot or something significant, you should leave multiple offerings over time before asking for permission - especially if the spirit you're working with might be a bit less welcoming.

*If taking something from nature, always ensure you are taking no more than you need and, if applicable, leave more than enough for that resource to survive (unless it is invasive to your area). Respecting the mundane balance of nature is the most important thing. Also, check any laws in your area regarding collecting feathers, certain plants, bones etc!!

Building a Long-Term Relationship

If you want to build a longer relationship with Nature Spirits, or connect more deeply with nature as a whole, there's a few 'steps' I would recommend:

Research and learn about your local area! What plants are you most likely to find? What animals and trees? How do the seasons change and impact the land? What patterns can you find? Do they align with your personal experiences? Join local Birdwatching or foraging groups, pick up localised wildlife books, take online courses! Learn about the world around you!

Get outside and experience it! Get a nature journal to record what you notice - when do you notice the bees coming back after Winter? What are the first plants to sprout in Spring? When do the first Autumnal leaves fall? What animals do you see most? What trees? Sit outside with no intent other than to *feel*. Sit in the forest and let your energy merge with everything around you; feel how the tree roots stretch beneath the soil, and intermingles with stretching mycelium, feel the flap of insects wings and the wind on your skin. Feel the energy of the spirits around you. Like when trying to befriend a crow or stray cat, you must give them time to adjust to your presence.

Leave offerings on a regular basis. This can be done on your altar at home, but often the most effective offerings are ones that aid the physical side of the spirits of well!

Talk to them (without necessarily expecting a response). Say good morning to the magpies on your way to work, tell the trees about your day. Even if you are trying to build a relationship with one specific spirit, it never hurts to connect to nature and its other spirits - sort of like being polite to the in-laws. All of nature is connected, if you're trying to befriend Lavender but throw litter out the car window, it's gonna be much harder to forge a connection.

Ask the spirit if they want a working relationship with you! And respect their answer if they say no. If they say yes, ask them how you've been doing so far - is there something you've been doing that they don't like? Or that they wish you would do more? Do they have any preferences? Requests? Some spirits don't like to communicate through tarot, others have specific times of day they prefer to talk. Some of this can be discerned through research (i.e. nocturnal animal spirits might prefer nighttime communication) but much of it can only be learned by *asking the spirit*.

Keep it up. This is it. This is what a relationship with spirits is: consistent communication and respect. What you choose to do with this relationship, and how it evolves and changes is entirely up to you! Nature is not a religion, these spirits are not a part of a specific tradition or culture (though you are more than welcome to incorporate your own culture/traditions/religions into your relationship with them) and so there are no pre-set prayers, offerings, rituals etc; it is up to you to build a unique and personalised relationship with them!

If you ever want to end it, be respectful and polite. Thank the spirit for everything, provide them a final offering and say goodbye.

Offerings for Nature Spirits

Here are some suggestions of offerings for Nature Spirits, but they are just suggestions and recommendations from my own experiences; come up with your own and figure it out *with* the spirit!! I've divided them into physical and non-physical offerings:

Water (a classic, hard to go wrong)

Wildlife Safe food (this will require research and will be very dependant on your area. HOWEVER, it should not be done regularly, and ideally should be in your garden rather than a public or "wild" area - bird feeders, feeding hedgehogs etc Feeding wildlife can cause more harm than help a lot of the time).

Coins, tobacco, crystals etc (some 'traditional' spirit offerings in many cultures. These are best for any indoor altars rather than outside.

Picking up Litter or other acts of service (an amazing offering, often highly appreciated)

Removing Invasive Species!

Physical touch (NOT for animals or potentially dangerous plants. Do your research. This may be a hand in the river, a hug to the tree, bare feet on the soil.)

Time (a simple, yet much appreciated offering)

A poem, artwork, prayer

Donating to their conservation/aid

Other parts of nature (laying flowers at the foot of the tree, berries for the crow spirit, dressing a fox skull in leaves)

In my experience, acts of service or creation are often much more appreciated than physical offerings! Art in their name, cleaning the local stream of litter, calling your PM to pressure more conservation policies etc are far better than leaving a - potentially disruptive and harmful - piece of food.

What NOT to Do?

This is also UPG based, but there are some things I would really NOT recommend.

Not doing your research. You wouldn't jump into a relationship with a deity without learning anything about them, why do the same for nature spirits? Just because they don't have specific religious lore surrounding them, doesn't mean you shouldn't learn. Pick up a field guide or book on local folklore.

Leaving human food outside. You baked a tasty brownie and want to share it with the Fly Agaric spirit you're building a relationship with? Great - leave it as an offering but TAKE IT BACK HOME WITH YOU. Let the spirit take the energy from it it wants/needs, and then remove it. Do not leave human food outside. If you INSIST on leaving a form of food offering, it MUST be safe for the local wildlife.

Littering. Doing a spell with Birch? Cool. Make sure you don't leave anything behind. Ideally, use compostable or wildlife safe ingredients (i.e. beeswax candles, toilet paper tubes instead of spell jars etc)

Graffiti/Carvings on trees/rocks etc. Sigils and art can be a great tool/offering but PLEASE don't graffiti or carve into trees/rocks/natural things. It does damage them. Write a with your finger in sand or on your palm or recreate it with branches instead.

Taking more than you need. Don't collect every shell you see on a beach, don't pick up every skull or bone your find in a forest, don't pick every mushroom or herb in a patch. Take what you need, ask permission, leave more than you take.

DO NOT GO INTO FORAGING/BONE COLLECTING/HIKING/LITTER PICKING WITHOUT PROPER SAFETY PRECAUTIONS. Know the laws in your area. Know the trails and paths. Have a map if the area if large enough. Know what plants are safe to touch, if you're not sure - DON'T TOUCH IT. Know what is safe to forage, ideally have an expert to confirm, if you are not 10000% certain, LEAVE IT (and I mean 100000% certain. Not 99%). Wear proper hiking boots, be aware of the weather and any risks in the area. Keep up with weather warnings. Know if there's any traps in the woods. Going litter picking? Make sure you're aware of any local vaccination attempts, as the devices used to help vaccinate wild animals may look like rubbish. Be sensible, be SAFE.

General Tips and Advice

Use common sense and critical thinking.

Notice how I kept saying "local" in this post? That's because it's ideal for a nature-based practice to be localised to your surrounding area! I live in the UK, so whats the point in me trying to build a relationship with spirit of Bald Eagle? It has no roots in my land, nor in my heritage or craft. It is much easier to connect to a nature spirit that you can actually, physically visit, or that has a deep connection to your culture/religion/heritage than one that you thought "seemed cool".

Take it slow, and take it easy. There are no strict rules besides don't be a jerk. The best expert on any particular spirit is that spirit!

However, its important to be safe. Know how to protect yourself and how to banish. Don't call on any spirit you can't get rid of. Not all nature spirits are friendly.

Nature spirits are also not a monolith. They overlap, they blur and twist together but working with Bramble is an entirely different experience to working with Lavender. Be prepared. You can typically get an idea of a spirit's personality through research - it peeks through in the science and ecology, as well as the folklore.

Practice energy work! Nature spirits, in my experience, love to communicate through energy. Sit with yourself for a while, learn what thoughts are yours, what sensations are your own, so that you can differentiate from others. Get used to the feeling of nature and its spirits - they will guide you and help you, they will teach you knowledge you cannot imagine.

You're allowed to say no, and so are they.

Do not be deterred by your circumstances. You live in a city? There's still nature spirits there, a lot of them. (Will link my post about Urban Nature Spirit Work here when posted). Struggle to get outside regularly? Get a Houseplant (will link houseplant post too) watch nature documentaries, find a way to connect to nature and it will find a way to connect to you.

Remember that YOU are a part nature. You are not an onlooker, you are not an outsider, YOU are a part of the ecosystem, apart of natural history and the complex beauty of evolution and change. YOU are an animal and you are so much more similar to the foxes and bears and flies and butterflies than you think.

I hope this post has been helpful to some! Please feel free to add any of your own points/experiences or ask questions/suggest future posts!!

Praise Mother Nature 💚🌿🪲

[synity]

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

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

RED THREAT

(Lee Jihoon x FemReader)

*Fate, Romance, Slice of Life Soulmate AU*

Y/N’s POV

The screen blinked again.

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

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

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

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

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

Client proposal

Fix formatting

Adjust color scheme

Make it “pop” whatever that means

Call with team lead at 10 a.m.

Email Sophia back

Try not to cry before lunch

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

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

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

I didn’t recognize her.

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

Until I paused.

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

The header burned like neon into my dry eyes.

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

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

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

But I didn’t move.

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

What if I just went?

I blinked again. My heart pounded in my chest.

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

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

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

I bought the ticket before I could change my mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I looked… a little more like myself.

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

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

"SAY THE NAME!"

"SEVENTEEN!"

The stadium roared.

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

And then there was him.

Woozi.

Lee Jihoon.

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

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

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

They started “Don’t Wanna Cry.”

My heart squeezed.

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

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

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

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

And that’s when it happened.

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

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

I froze.

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

His gaze slowed.

Sharp, aware eyes.

And somehow, my heart knew.

He sees me.

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

But something told me it wasn’t.

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

And then he blinked. Just once.

Almost like

Recognition.

My lips parted.

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

But I couldn’t move.

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

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

Unless…

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

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

But I could still feel it.

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

Tying something neither of us could see.

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

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

Woozi’s POV

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

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

But then it happened.

Right in the middle of Don’t Wanna Cry.

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

But this time

This time, I stopped.

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

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

It was her.

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

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

But I saw her.

And then the tug came.

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

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

But the feeling remained.

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

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

Just that I needed to find her again.

Was she really there? Was I making it up?

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

I’ve never believed in fate.

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

But now?

Now I wasn’t so sure.

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

But tonight, it’s different.

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

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

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

I nod, almost too quickly. “Yeah.”

But I’m not.

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

A red string of fate.

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

I step back on stage, microphone in hand.

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

Please be there.

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

There she is.

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

And I’m doing the same.

There’s a second where we just stare.

A second where I forget how to breathe.

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

Because something’s happening.

Something important.

And I can’t ignore it anymore.

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

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

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

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

Who is she?

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

I grip the towel tighter in my hands.

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

Like her soul knocked on mine and it finally answered.

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

She’s gone.

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

The thread’s been tied.

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

I didn’t sleep well last night.

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

Like she’s been waiting too.

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

It doesn’t work.

She’s still there in my head.

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

No. I need to get out.

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

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

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

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

And stop in my tracks.

No way.

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

It’s her.

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

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

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

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

This time it’s closer. Sharper.

I swear my heart drops into my stomach.

She blinks. Her lips part. She knows.

She knows me too.

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

“Hyung, you okay?”

I nod.

But I’m not.

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

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

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

I place my order and walk toward my usual booth.

And nearly trip over my own feet.

Because she’s here.

Again.

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

I freeze.

She hasn’t seen me yet.

What are the odds?

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

Instead, I keep watching.

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

My own song.

She was there for me.

And now she’s everywhere.

Over the next few days, it keeps happening.

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

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

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

Just… confused. Like I am.

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

I do.

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

Yet.

Back in the studio, I can't focus.

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

It’s not just obsession.

It’s recognition.

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

Invisible. But undeniable.

The thread is still pulling.

And I’m not going to fight it anymore.

YN'S POV

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

Something had shifted last night.

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

Lee Jihoon.

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

It felt like I was seeing him.

Still, life had to go on.

Or at least, I tried to pretend it did.

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

I needed to work.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

I shook my head and dipped a brush into crimson.

Focus.

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

You need fresh air, I told myself.

So I grabbed my sketchpad and headed to the riverside.

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

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

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

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

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

“This is getting ridiculous,” I muttered.

But then…

That feeling again.

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

I looked up.

And there he was.

Again.

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

I knew.

His eyes found mine like magnets unmissable, inevitable.

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

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

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

Then he passed. Just a nod.

But that one second unraveled me for hours.

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

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

The bell chimed again shortly after.

I didn’t look up at first.

But then I felt it.

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

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

Again.

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

I looked away quickly, heart pounding.

What was happening?

Why did I keep seeing him?

Was I just noticing him more now?

Or was the universe playing some strange trick?

The next few days were… eerie.

I saw him everywhere.

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

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

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

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

I looked up.

And there he was.

He looked just as surprised.

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

Then he walked away.

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

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

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

But now I was starting to wonder.

What if something really was pulling us together?

What if this was more than coincidence?

What if for once I wasn’t imagining things?

Woozi’s POV

He saw her again.

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

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

Jihoon stood frozen just around the corner.

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

Her eyes would meet his.

His chest would tighten.

That damned invisible thread would pull.

And he’d walk away.

But not this time.

He stepped out.

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

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

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

Jihoon swallowed.

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

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

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

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

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

She blinked. “Feeling what?”

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

There. He’d said it.

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

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

His heart skipped.

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

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

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

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

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

So Jihoon just blurted it out.

“I want to get to know you.”

Her eyes widened.

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

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

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

The cat meowed again, circling their feet.

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

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

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

He found himself laughing more than he had in weeks.

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

“I get that a lot,” he mumbled.

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

“Kind of what?”

“…Adorably awkward.”

Jihoon groaned. “Don’t say that.”

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

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

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

The way her lashes curled naturally.

The smudge of graphite still on her fingertips.

She wasn’t just pretty.

She was real.

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

As they reached her building, Jihoon hesitated.

“I want to see you again,” he said.

“You will,” she answered, smiling.

“But not just by chance.”

She looked at him.

“Let me make it intentional this time.”

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

“…Okay.”

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

The red thread tugged again.

And this time, he tugged back.

Y/N’s POV

Jihoon asked her out the next morning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” she greeted, standing up.

“Hi,” he echoed, voice quiet.

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

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

“Yeah.”

They walked.

No crowds. No managers. No schedules.

Just them.

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

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

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

“Oh no, you’re one of those.”

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

She giggled, slipping the book back onto the shelf.

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

“Is that your own song?”

Jihoon froze, then looked mortified. “Maybe.”

She grinned. “Cute.”

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

“Why?”

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

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

“Maybe that’s the side I like best.”

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

“You like caramel,” she said.

He blinked. “I do?”

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

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

“You’re observant.”

She shrugged. “Only with people who matter.”

Jihoon grew quiet.

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

She tilted her head. “What’s that?”

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

Inside was a tiny charm. A silver paintbrush.

Her breath caught.

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

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

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

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

“You deserve it,” he said.

They didn’t rush the day.

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

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

Jihoon did too.

“Thanks for today,” she said softly.

He nodded. “I’m glad you said yes.”

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

Not too close. Just… enough.

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

So she leaned in first.

Just a little.

And that was all it took.

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

When they pulled back, he didn’t speak.

He just rested his forehead against hers and exhaled.

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

She smiled, heart racing.

“Me too.”

4 days later

The city felt different today.

Less rushed, softer somehow.

Maybe it was because Jihoon had asked her out again.

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

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

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

“Ready?” he asked.

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

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

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

He looked out over the water, thoughtful.

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

She reached over and squeezed his hand.

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

He turned to her, eyes sincere.

“Really?”

“Really.”

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

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

“I wrote this for you,” he confessed.

Her heart skipped.

“Me?”

He nodded, cheeks pink.

“Every note is a promise.”

Tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked them away.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He smiled and brushed a stray hair behind her ear.

“You make me want to be better.”

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

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

Jihoon listened. Really listened.

And that made all the difference.

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

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

Her breath caught.

“Open it.”

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

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

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

“I love it.”

He smiled, eyes shining.

“So... about that kiss last time.”

Her cheeks warmed.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Me too.”

Jihoon leaned in slowly.

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

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

[abitohoney]

Seducing the Councilwoman

AO3 link

Sevika x female reader

Rating: Explicit, MDNI, NSFW

Tags: Sevika/Reader, Shameless Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Lesbian Sex, Clothed Sex, Hair-pulling, Vaginal Fingering, Teasing, Post Season 2, Councilwoman Sevika, Assistant Reader

Word Count: 3.9k Councilwoman Sevika is nothing like the other Council members. In fact, she’s nothing like any other woman in all of Valoran. She’s the epitome of tall, dark, handsome- and dangerous. So who can blame you, the innocent assistant to the Council, for falling for her undeniable charms?

But just who is seducing whom here?

AN: Posted this on AO3 last week, but figured I'd throw it on here too.

It’s another beautiful day in Piltover. Puffy white clouds paint the background of a blue sky. The sun shines through the ornate colored glass of the Council’s chambers, casting bright patterns along the tiled floor.

Much the contradiction to the sunny cheerfulness of the day, is one of the Council’s newest members.

Sevika.

She sits on the chair that, coincidentally enough, faces the window receiving the most direct light. A cape, dark red- almost burgundy- in color covers much of her left side. Even the gold stitching decorating the edges appears dull from the dirt and grime that comes from living in the Undercity. Her rich brown skin is adorned with other various dark shades; her hand- a black leather glove that also decorates her wrist; her face- accents painted in deep, chocolate tones, and obscured by short, wispy strands of nearly black hair.

And then there’s her expression. The epitome of overcast. Lips downturned and brows knit so tightly in their own decline that you can easily spot the little lines it creates just above her nose even from where you stand at the opposite end of the massive cog-shaped table in the center of the room. Had you not been privy to a few lucky and rare moments in which those lips curled in the opposite direction, you may have thought the scowl was permanent.

And yet- at least in your eyes- nothing in that room could possibly be more radiant than her.

She’s downright gorgeous.

And you’ve been lucky enough to land the position of assistant to the council, including- and most importantly- her.

Having grown up in the upper echelon that is Piltover, where everything is pristine, proper, pure, and “perfect”, it’s an absolute treat to see someone so… very much the opposite. At least to you, this was a good thing.

The remaining members of the Council watch Sevika with wary, judging eyes. They’re just as suspicious and distrusting of her as she is of them. And although she seems to hold some of that same skepticism towards you, you’ve been slowly buttering– working her up over the past several months.

As you make your way around the table, passing a fresh cup of hot tea to each member, you keep your eyes trained on Sevika, with a soft, feigned innocent smile on your face.

She notices, as given by the way her gray eyes meet yours for a brief moment before flitting back to one of the other members currently rambling about Janna knows what. You don’t know. And you quite frankly don’t care. All you care about is her.

When you make your way to her side, you gently place a hand on her opposite shoulder and bend over, bringing your lips far closer to her ear than you should, given your position and the current audience. But you’re too smooth about it. Nobody else in the room catches the show you’re putting on.

“I’ve put something a little extra special in your drink today, Councilwoman Sevika,” you all but purr. You carefully set her cup down on the table near where her arm rests. Her eyes focus briefly on the proffered drink, brows furrowing as if she can somehow concentrate hard enough to determine the contents. Contents she likely believes to be poisonous. She cocks her head just enough to peer up at you from the corner of her eyes.

Though those looks of obvious distrust should really sting given how much you fancy her, you truly find it nothing more than cute. Intriguing even. She has no reason to doubt your intentions towards her. They are purely innocent. Well, at least in the sense that you have no intention of harming her.

You slowly straighten up, allowing your fingertips to trail all too slowly along the back of her neck. Her nostrils flare, and you swear she even shivers a bit at that subtle touch.

You offer her a sweet smile and a not-so-subtle wink before strolling towards your seat off to the side of the large room.

Disappointingly, your seat is a bit too far to the side of Sevika for you to see that lovely face of hers. However, you are graced with her side profile, which is more than enough to feed you your fill of eye candy. From your position, you can clearly see that adorably prominent and round nose of hers- the one you’ve fantasized about riding far more times than any decent lady should. Also on clear display is a majority of her arm. She may only have one at the moment, but it’s worth far more than all the arms in that room combined. That delightfully toned arm- that bulging bicep- has starred in just as many of your fantasies. Whether wrapped around your neck or beneath your fingers as you held on for dear life while she railed you into a delirium–

You snap yourself out of your drifting imagination when you notice her reaching for the drink. Nearly leaning forward in your seat with anticipation, you watch as she slowly brings it to her deliciously soft-looking lips. She pauses- that silly, cute woman- likely trying to smell for nonexistent poison, before finally bringing it to her lips and taking a small sip.

Janna, you wish you could see her face when she realizes you’ve mixed her favorite whiskey into her tea. Or more like mixed tea into her favorite whiskey, given the ratio you used. You're more than well aware how much she likes her liquor.

She cocks her head just the slightest- she’s so cute - takes a moment to identify the familiar flavor before taking another sip.

To your utter dismay, she doesn’t finish her drink. Clearly, her distrust in all of Piltover’s inhabitants takes control of her better judgment. She could have just enjoyed a nice warm drink and melted some of those obviously taut nerves and muscles.

Muscles you want to explore with your hands.

And mouth.

Oh well. You’re not about to give up on your mission just yet.

So you sit through the rest of the Council meeting, attention entirely on Sevika. You hang on every word that falls from that pretty mouth of hers. On every syllable spoken in her seductively deep, rough voice. Your lips curl at every biting remark she makes. At every quick retort to the other Council members.

She’s more than just a pretty face.

More than just a sculpture of muscle.

She’s clever too.

She’s the whole package- and you’re bound and determined to break it open- make it yours.

The end of the meeting couldn’t come soon enough. Now comes your favorite part. You get to escort Sevika down the lift and out of the building before she heads back into the depths of the Undercity. It’s your chance to finally be alone with her.

You press the button to open the lift, stepping aside to allow her to enter first. As usual though, she stands rooted to her spot just a few steps from the opening, side-eyeing you.

Oh, and she’s a real gentlewoman too.

So cute.

You smile and whisper a soft “thank you” before stepping inside. You intentionally choose to stand in the center of the small space. No matter where she tries to stand, she’ll be close. So close.

She opts to stand just behind and to your right, her bicep brushing against your bare shoulder as she passes by. Sparks ignite your skin at that contact, and you wonder if she feels it too. You press the button for the main floor before turning to face her, your back against the door.

“Did you enjoy your drink, Councilwoman Sevika?” you ask sweetly.

She fixes you with narrowed eyes.

The lift makes it no further than halfway to the next floor when the side of her fist slams into the control panel right beside your head.

The sudden sound of bone on metal and the lift coming to a halt startles you a bit, but you’re quick to school your expression with another smile. You're confident she has just as little intention to hurt you as you do her.

She brings her face close to yours as she growls, “What’s your deal, girl?”

“My deal?” you ask- more feigned innocence. It shouldn’t be so fun to play naive with a woman this dangerous, but -oh goodness- does the way her nostrils flare and her pretty blue scars light up just pull you further towards that danger.

“Are you trying to poison me?” she grinds out through gritted teeth.

Her nose is nearly touching yours now, but you remain unmoved, cool, and confident. Your eyes never once leave hers, despite how tempting it is to take a peek at the bicep currently resting well within your periphery.

“What on Runeterra are you talking about?” you ask with a feathery light chuckle. “Of course not.”

“What did you put in my drink?”

“Your favorite whiskey. Or, at least I thought it was.” You give her a fake pout, as if offended that she didn’t like your gift.

She glares at you for a brief moment, her breath hot and heavy. She’s worked up and it’s absolutely lovely.

“Then why just my drink?” she finally asks.

“Because you’re my favorite,” you reply nonchalantly before adding, “Well, if I’m being perfectly honest, you’re the only one I like out of the whole lot.”

That seems to catch her off guard.

She cocks that brow again and you can see the gears turning in that pretty head of hers. She’s trying so hard to figure you out. To process all the hints you’ve been dropping over the past several months of meetings.

How much cuter can this woman get?

You decide to take pity on her- give her one more little hint.

You lift a hand through the small gap between your precariously close bodies to run your fingertip along one of the golden spikes adorning her shoulder pad. “You’re truly an amazing woman, you know? Nothing like anyone I’ve ever met.”

She huffs through her nose at that, clearly not falling for your flattery.

Not yet, at least.

You let your lids slowly flutter shut as you take in an exaggerated deep breath and relish in how delicious she smells. Spice, smoke, sweat.

“Girl, do you know who I am?” she asks, her voice much quieter now, but nonetheless threatening.

You open your eyes to meet hers again and smile coyly. “Oh, I know who you are, alright. I know far more about you than you likely realize. I know you were the kingpin Silco’s right-hand woman. I know all the things you’ve done with that hand of yours-” your eyes flit to where her cape covers her missing arm “-and the other. But what I really want to know is just what else that hand can do.”

She raises a single brow.

“I want you to show me,” you answer her unspoken question while trailing your finger down her arm and over her exposed bicep. You let your eyes descend to her lips, watching them intently as you slowly lick your lips. The corner of her mouth twitches, and you know you’ve finally got her.

That tiny gap is closed in an instant. Her body- a delightful blend of soft curves and hard muscle- is pressed fully against yours. Lips connect, and her mouth captures the soft gasp that pulls from your throat. Her fist remains pressed against the control panel, but you waste no time sliding your hands beneath her cape. One hand finds its way to the buckle that rests over her right breast, gripping it and pulling her impossibly closer. Your other hand travels down to the waist of her pants, fingers dipping beneath, desperate for a touch of that beautiful skin.

You press your tongue to her lips, which adorably enough open right up for you.

She’s just as eager as you are.

You delve inside, and -oh goodness- she tastes even better than she smells. Whiskey and warm spices. She’s a drink all of her own.

A wanton moan escapes your locked lips when her tongue meets yours. She cocks her head to deepen the kiss, that glorious nose of hers rubbing alongside yours. You press your knee between her strong thighs, and oh, does that elicit the most wonderful thing you’ve ever heard.

She groans, so deep from within her chest, you swear you can feel it.

You both freeze for a brief moment, equally startled by the intensity of her reaction.

Then she suddenly pulls back from the kiss. Her hand falls to her side, and your hands sadly lose their grip on her. She’s panting- chest heaving- and looking you over with furrowed brows.

How can this woman be so infuriatingly cute? You’re standing here waiting for her to tear you apart, do unspeakable things to your body, and she, ever the gentlewoman, or maybe she’s just paranoid, is still trying to figure out if this is really what you were after all this time.

Well, if she isn’t going to make the moves, you will do it for her.

You close that gap again, grasping a fistful of her cape to pull her lips back down to yours.

She immediately returns the kiss, but her hand hesitates, barely resting on your hip.

You playfully bite her bottom lip before locking eyes with her. “Don’t hold back,” you insist.

To your delight, she doesn’t.

The fingers on your hip sink in, gripping hard as she pushes you back against the wall of the lift with a resonating thud. Just when you think she’s about to kiss you again, she not only matches your move by biting down on your bottom lip, she presses her knee between your legs and uses her grip on your hip to drag your aching center up along her thick thigh.

The moan that spills from your parted lips is wanton, but you don’t forget your manners. “That’s it, baby,” you praise.

It’s clear she likes that praise. The little growl that rumbles from her chest might be her fighting it, but the way she rubs her own clothed core against your thigh is evidence enough.

Her mouth returns to yours, tongue delving inside hungrily. Her hand relinquishes its death grip on your hip to slide up your back, forcing you away from the wall and closer against her body. She doesn’t relent the pace of rubbing her thigh between your legs, nor her own grinding along yours.

Her fingers slip through the hair at your scalp, and without warning, she grabs it in her fist and yanks. Hard.

Your head falls back, breaking the kiss. The back of your head hits the metal wall behind you, but the sound is deafened by the almost guttural sound that rips from your chest.

Sharp teeth run along your chin to your neck as she continues to grind against you. She nips along the column of your throat, each bite timed with the rocking of her hips and the breathless moans pouring from your agape mouth.

“Fuck, that’s so good,” you huff out, your breath ragged as you try to meet her pace, your hips rolling and rocking.

She says nothing, mouth too focused on kissing and nipping at your neck. As she sucks particularly hard at the soft spot just above your collarbone, you’re certain there will be marks. Pretty, perfect marks you’ll wear with the utmost pride.

When she releases the death grip she has on your hair, you slowly let your head lower until your foreheads touch. Those beautiful gray eyes are glazed over, and you’re certain you’ve never seen a sight more beautiful. However, as good as the mutual humping is- which is anything but dry- you need more.

“You know–” you huff between your mutual grinding, “I wore– a skirt– for a reason.”

That bit of attitude seems to catch her off guard, her movement faltering, but she quickly takes the hint and brings her hand up to press two fingertips against the plush of your bottom lip.

You know what she wants, but you’re gonna make her use her words so you can hear that sinful voice of hers.

“Suck,” she demands, her voice husky and thick with desire.

You smile against the pads of her fingers, giving them a quick, chaste kiss before parting your lips.

She’s quick to slide them in, but you take your time, teasing her, slowly drawing circles around those thick digits with the tip of your tongue. She watches your mouth intently, and you can tell she’s growing impatient, her movements becoming more erratic.

You take the last length of her fingers fully into your mouth and suck, making a show of softly closing your eyes and moaning.

“Shit,” she groans so quietly you almost miss it.

When you open your eyes to meet hers, she slowly slides her fingers from your mouth, looking as if she’s fighting the urge to eat you alive right then and there.

You’d let her if she tried.

She backs away slightly, giving her just enough space to slip her hand between your bodies, but her eyes remain fixated on your expression. She’s tauntingly slow as she slips her hand beneath the hem of your skirt and slides it further up your thighs.

It’s maddening, and you can’t help but wonder if it's intentional. Like she’s trying to goad you. If only you could get in that gorgeous head of hers and read her mind. Those thoughts quickly escape you when her digits finally reach the apex of your thighs.

Both of you gasp in unison; you from the blissful contact, she from the surprise that you had gone sans panties that day. Little does she know, you did it for this exact situation.

She dips just the tip of her middle finger between your wet folds.

Your knees threaten to buckle, and your breath hitches. You grasp her cape with both hands- not only to catch yourself, but to pull her lips back to yours before the impending whimper can escape your mouth.

She kisses you just as slowly as her finger teases your entrance. And it seems the little whines that make their way unbidden from your throat only serve to encourage her to continue the delightful torture.

She breaks the kiss before you’re ready and even has the audacity to pull back when you attempt to recapture her mouth with your own.

Just when did she become the one in charge?

You narrow your eyes at her, trying to look in control, but each little teasing touch between your legs makes it beyond challenging. It’s damn near impossible. And the undeniably sexy look in her eyes- the purely carnal lust- is not helping your situation.

But you’ve got to try.

“Stop teas-” Before you can finish your demand, she thrusts her middle finger inside you, clear to the last knuckle. It rips a startled cry of pleasure from you.

That had to be intentional.

But you’ve got no time or brain power to retaliate, because she immediately starts sliding that gloriously thick finger in and out at the perfect pace.

You try desperately to keep your eyes open and your mouth shut, but Janna- she looks so fucking hot and is making you feel so damn good. And when you feel her slip nearly all the way out to allow another finger to join, you know it’s a losing battle. As she slowly slides back in, you let your eyes fall shut and bring your lips to rest against the scars that decorate her neck. You're not about to let her see you falling apart so easily.

As her fingers bottom out inside you, filling you so completely, you’re certain there’s no way you could ever take more from her.

And you don't need to either. She feels so- damn- good!

It doesn’t take long for her to work you up, pumping and curling her fingers just right. There’s no doubt she’s experienced. This isn’t her first rodeo.

You try to kiss, suck, and bite her neck to hide the moans she’s pulling from you, but you’re so close now.

So blissfully close.

You slip a hand up to grasp her bicep, feeling the muscle beneath flex with her effort.

You nearly cry from desperation and disappointment when those expert fingers slip out, but when you feel her rubbing her thumb against them, you know exactly what she’s doing.

Both digits slip right back in, but this time her thumb joins the endeavor, pressing gently against your swollen clit and smearing it with your juices.

“Oh baby, that’s good,” you practically cry.

She picks right up where she left off, making circles around your clit with each thrust of her fingers. She brings her mouth to your ear, yet another move taken from your book, and somewhere in the back of your delirium-induced mind you hear her rasp, “Say my name when you cum.”

She didn’t even need to ask.

The sound of her husky voice, the warm breath against your ear, and the perfectly timed strokes along your clit send you falling off the edge and right into euphoria.

“Oh fuck, Sevika!” you cry out, certainly loud enough for anyone remaining in the building to hear.

Neither of you could care less.

Every muscle in your body pulls taut, your fingers gripping her bicep threatening to break skin, before quickly releasing in bursts of mind-numbing pleasure.

She leans her head back, eyes alight with fascination as she watches you fall apart before her. She continues to fuck you with her fingers, only easing her pace when she catches the way your body jerks and eyes squeeze shut at the overstimulation.

At a tauntingly slow rate, she slides her fingers out of your now drenched pussy. You watch through half-lidded eyes as she brings them to your parted lips.

This time, you don’t make her speak, you just accept her fingers. You don’t make a show either. You couldn’t if you’d wanted- too fucked out. You let her run those wet digits slowly down along your tongue and back out of your mouth. The taste of your own juices invades your mouth, and you know she's enjoying knowing that.

No longer able to hold your own weight, you fall back against the wall of the lift.

But thank Janna you recover enough to catch that rare glimpse of perfection you’d thought about earlier. As she stands there, staring at you, the corner of her mouth curls into a haughty and undeniably sexy smirk.

She crudely wipes the remaining liquid coating her fingers across her pants before reaching beside your head to press the button for the main floor.

All you can do as the two of you descend is fight to stay upright while she simply watches you with the satisfaction of a job well done.

When the lift comes to a halt at the bottom floor, she steps into your space, bringing her lips to your ears again.

“Make sure you wear that skirt for me next time too, baby.”

The way she says that pet name…

She pulls back, offering you one last smug smile before strolling past you and off the lift.

You blink several times, still not completely in your right mind.

Was she playing you the entire time?

[batlovebites]

Can i have shadow milk x cuddly reader?? I love this silly jester so much 😭

Hi! This is. absolutely not what you were after but Shadow Milk Cookie's whole theatre and deception deal makes it far too tempting to attempt a format screw form of writing with him. So I hope you can enjoy this for what this is. Also, as a note for anyone not familiar with this before reading, the little blue numbers after certain words/sentences are linking that word/sentence to a footnote at the end listed under the same number- You'll see these on Wikipages a lot, but I can't actually hyperlink them in the same way on a tumblr post.

Shadow Milk Cookie x Cuddly Reader [Drabble] - House of Deceit

You do not lay on the bed alone.

Are you alone?

Yes. No.

(He's/You're/They're) there, wrapped delicately in (Yours/His/Each Others) arms. There. Where?

[INT - Spire¹ of Knowledge. Night? You look outside. Its night. You blink. It's morning. You blink. Its dusk. You stop looking. It does not.]

He grins. A bit sharper than it should be. Shifts just so, hand ghosting along your spine, plants a featherlight kiss on just above your brow. The stage lights shine a little brighter. The Audience² cheers.

The eyes lining the shadows of his hair twitch with something like anticipation. (The eyes lining the shadows of his hair twitch with something like love.)

He laughs, something sharp and cruel loving and longing, "You're oh-so unbelievably clingy, my love," he croons. "Whatever would you do without me here to bask it all in?³"

You pretend to pull away your affections just to tease a little; He knew it was a lie, of course, but he pulls you back in with the fervency of if it was the truth⁴ all the same. This is the role you are meant to play; He simply cannot have you going off script.

So he pulls you back in, grabs your hands in his own- they fit together oh-so perfectly. You two were always fated to play the star-crossed lovers; There's no two more fitting actors in the whole world-, and mutters words of affectionate meant (for once) for your ears only. The shadows around you warp and twist as if trying to eavesdrop. (The shadows around you warp and twist as if trying to hold you, too.)

cling·y /ˈkliNGē/ - adjective    1. What he calls you    2. What he is. (LIAR.⁵)

[INT - Spire of Knowledge. The sky watches you with reverence. It's blue. Not day. Just blue.]

So (You/He) lays in (His/Your) arms. Shadowed eyes blink at you lazily, and you return the gaze half-asleep.

This serenity was all a lie, of course. Things like him didn't really love, not in the way people do. Its all just another show at the end of the day. And in the morning you will wake up in a cold bed with no one in your arms. (LIAR.)

This moment (this eternity) was the only truth welcomed into his house of deceit. Not a clean truth, no. A truth swaddled gently in little white lies, in ever-twisting deceptions and cold dishonesty to keep safe the warmth of the only true thing to ever really exist- the little truth between the two of you, only the two of you.

true·love /ˈtrü-ˌləv/ - noun    1. Perfect romantic love between people.    2. A person that You love.    3. A deception. Except when its You. (right?)(Right.)

(You/He) falls asleep in (His/Your) arms. The curtains don't exist fall. The performance ends in its eternally soft dénouement, no loose ends left to be tied; But it doesn't end, not really, because the curtains aren't real will rise with the morning sun tomorrow (today? yesterday?) to start the performance anew; And with each performance, Shadow Milk will play his part with (venera-)(devo-)tion⁶ as always. A single droplet of truth in an ocean of deceit.

Footnotes:

It is(n't) a tower. stage. house. spire. It is ■■■■.

There is(n't) an audience. The audience crowds him. The audience holds him with such affection it feels like suffocation. The only audience there is anymore (the only audience that ever mattered). The Audience is You. You are the Audience.

You would 1.) Sleep a little less peacefully. 2.) Smile a little less often. 3.) Dream of something a little more honest.

Disgusting.

It is the truth. How distasteful.

ven·er·a·tion /ˌvenəˈrāSHən/ - noun    1. Great Respect; Reverence. de·vo·tion /dəˈvōSH(ə)n/ - noun    1. For You, always for you.

[springismss]

ᱬ ࣪𖤐 just some actor! touya thoughts after seeing a lot of actor au content over the past few weeks.

i may or may not have part 2 in the works already because this thought has me in a chokehold. i'm just a sucker for a bad guy in a performer role.

lowercase intended, female! reader and sfw! as always likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated!

part word count: 1.3k | series word count: 3.3k

links: bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist | part 2

actor! touya who enjoys his job more than anyone should. not only does he get to spend time with his family, he also gets to play a villain that’s a hit in everyone’s book.

actor! touya who spends several hours each day in the makeup chair getting in character. sometimes he doesn’t mind it, sometimes he does. after all, having scarred skin and staples glued to him can be a bit tedious at the best of times.

actor! touya who runs through his lines several times in front of the mirror and with his cast members, just to make sure he’s got the personality of dabi in those scenes down.

actor! touya who likes to post behind-the-scenes photos to his public socials, giving his fans a little insight into what he was doing and who he was with. smiling at the comments that he gets before locking his phone and placing it away.

actor! touya who's formed a close friendship with one of his co-stars, actress! toga. of course there were rumours around the two of them dating, but he laughed them off. she was more of a little sister to him.

actor! touya who’s grateful for her as she keeps him sane most of the time, along with the rest of the league cast. after all, they bring the term chillin' like a villain to life half the time.

actor! touya who, one day, overhears actress! toga on the phone to someone, the glee obvious in her voice. amused at how the blonde bounced on her feet before saying a quick goodbye.

actor! touya who, the same day after shooting some scenes for the league, meets you for the first time. he’s not going to lie, he thought you were part of the crew until he saw actress! toga to go up to you to hug you.

actor! touya who finds himself being pulled in your direction by his blonde co-star. who looks down at you as you offer a quick wave with a sweet smile “hi”. who smiles slightly and offers his own “hi”.

actor! touya who gets more used to you as the days go on, learning from actress! toga that the series you were currently working on was on a small break. who's intrigued to know that not only were you an actress yourself, but a makeup artist in your spare time.

actor! touya who, when he walks out of his trailer one day, sees you pacing back and forth not far from your friend. you’re talking on the phone to who he assumes is your agent, judging by the way you’re usually cheerful demeanour is a tad more serious now.

actor! touya who later finds out, thanks to his own agent, that you’d been cast in an upcoming horror movie trilogy as he had. who couldn’t wait to get to know you a bit better, without anyone else interrupting.

actor! touya who spends the few days he has off looking you up and your work. who has to admit that he's impressed at what he sees and what you've starred in, you've made a name for yourself from a young age.

actor! touya who wonders how he's just hearing about you, considering you've starred in some of his favourite movies and shows. who decided to take a look at your public socials to see what you've posted.

actor! touya who sees that you're just like him when it comes to your posts, you love to show off small snippets of your set life and the odd insight into your personal life. who knows that you'll have private accounts made for just friends and family.

actor! touya who'll just persuade actress! toga to give them to him, after all, you were friends after you met, and you would be working together, it would make talking to each other outside of the set easier when either of you needed to go over anything.

actor! touya who sends requests from his personal accounts once he knows your handles, who is surprised to see how quick you've accepted and send him a message. who can't help the smile that tugs at his lips once he reads the string of messages you sent, giving his own string of replies, leg bouncing in happiness.

actor! touya who spends time getting to know you, asking cliché questions which you always happily respond to, before asking your own. who can feel a weird feeling start to take over him as he looks at his phone, it's almost like he's waiting for your messages now.

actor! touya who, when you both arrive on set to start filming together, spends time reading lines with you. who offers his input where he feels like it's needed and accepts yours when you offer it as well.

actor! touya who starts to enjoy his job even more, knowing that he's going to work where you are. who tells himself that it's normal to feel, after all, you were both steadily becoming close friends.

actor! touya who ends up with your personal phone number after a shoot one day. who find himself texting you daily with the most random things he can, smiling when you match his energy back.

actor! touya who bites the bullet one day and asks you to spend time with him outside of the set. whose palms are sweating as he sees you've read the message and are busy typing back. did it get hot all of a sudden?

actor! touya who blinks several times when he sees you've responded back to his message. "of course i'd love to! just let me know where you want to meet!".

actor! touya who feels his heart skipping a beat or two when it comes to spending time with you. who feels like a kid all over again when you ask him questions. who stutters over his words trying to string together a coherent sentence. who smiles slightly when you tell him to breathe.

actor! touya who loves to posts pictures of what the two of you get up to to his own private socials, with captions that make zero sense to anyone other than you and him. who gets teasing comments off actress! toga who knows for a fact her male co-star is smitten, he's just too dense to realise it sometimes. who finds out through a conversation with her that you're single.

actor! touya who finds himself growing closer to you. whose touches linger a little longer than normal, and eyes that watch every move you make. who feels his heart beating in his chest whenever he thinks of you.

actor! touya who one day, when you're both finished shooting the final scene of the film you're on, asks if he can talk to you. who's tapping his foot trying to calm his nerves, as you nod your head.

actor! touya who, when you're both alone in his car, stumbles over his words before muttering out a quick "will you be my girlfriend?". who starts to regret his words the moment he sees you staring at him, brows furrowed slightly.

actor! touya who turns to face away from you before he embarrasses himself any further. who wonders why the hell he opened his mouth, it was clear you didn't feel the same way.

actor! touya who feels his hand being gripped and his body move before you kiss him quickly. who's now the stunned one as he sees you smile. who feels his heart race when you utter the words "of course i will, dummy".

actor boyfriend! touya who takes you to your favourite spot by the beach just as the sun sets. who takes a photo of both of you together before posting it to his private accounts. 'here's to our next project, the rest of our lives, my love @/itsherisms'.

actor boyfriend! touya who lets you take your own photo and post it with your own caption, 'from on-screen lovers to real life lovers, you'll be my favourite co-star for life @/toutodo'.

actor boyfriend! touya who feels like the luckiest man in the world as he puts his phone away, holding you close as you both stare out to sea. who spends the longest time just rambling on with you, holding you close as he sneaks in kisses between your words.

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.