#I do really need to try and get my project draft submitted today

[flowering-darkness]

I once again have done nothing today (so far), but it’s because I got distracted by finally trying to get Zero’s broken scythe model out of the game files and turning it into a black mage weapon

AND I MANAGED IT!!!

I’ve wanted to try and do this for so so long (because Lorenza canonically wields Zero’s scythe as a black mage staff after the blade gets broken and Zero uses a sword again), and I actually got it working without needing to dive into Blender or anything!! So I’m very proud of myself for being able to pull this off given my lack of experience!~

[cdelphiki]

I submitted my final project yesterday, and took my final exam today, and now I'm officially done with this stupid class and this stupid certificate forever. Lmao. Stay tuned for my rant about how frustrating this experience has been for me, if you want:

I'm so annoyed with this class, because the professor was so frustrating. She didn't grade a single thing I did all semester until FINALS WEEK. She also didn't open up the instructions for the final project until she told me I was done with it (we had teams meetings so she was just verbally telling me what to do). She told me that the instructions for writing the abstract are in the project module, and I was like... what project module? When she finally opened the module and I was able to actually read it, I found that my final project she had just approved as being ready to submit didn't meet the minimum requirements? And when I asked about it she said "yes those are the minimums." LADY? DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF? YOU JUST SAID MY PROJECT WAS DONE??? It was 5pm on Friday, the last day of finals week when she did this, BY THE WAY. I had been working on the project all week, I'd put, like, 30 hours into this damn project already. And she couldn't have been early on like "hey there's a project module" so I could have even KNOWN there was supposed to be a module I couldn't see? This is after all semester long I was emailing her asking 'where is this reading, where is this lab' etc etc because she just simply didn't upload stuff or release it as the syllabus stated she would. I had to ask her for things weekly that should have just been there in the course material. Oh yeah, and those instructions for an abstract? Not in the project module. I just wrote an abstract how I think it should be. Then her exams she writes are just.... she really needs to use grammarly. Some of her exam questions made ZERO sense, because it just wasn't proper English. English is her second language, so I understand why it happened and do not judge that, but I do not find it acceptable when this is a graduate level class, in English, and you mark me wrong if I don't answer the question correctly? Just run the question through grammarly. The final exam had instructions that were like 'for essay questions write a response between 75 and 100 words, this is open book, you can talk to your classmates but your answer must be your own," and that was the instructions. Then 20 of 26 questions just had a single word as the question? Like, what do you want me to do with this? Define it? Explain it? Give an example of it? All of the above? None of the above? And she had one question that I SWEAR said "give three (4) examples of...." like?????????? and another question said "name the three types of...." but there are FIVE types of that thing?

Anyway I went to eviscerate her in the course eval and learned it closed yesterday but I wasn't done with the class yesterday so I was waiting. Oh well. My complaints will be kept to myself. She has strong suits. She's very nice, and when she actually responds to my messages (oh yeah she ghosted me the first half of this last week, when I was working on the project. I was submitting drafts to her via email like she asked me to do and she just simply didn't respond until Wednesday.) she's pretty helpful. I also DID learn a lot in her courses, and in this program overall.

The entire certificate program is sorely lacking, tbh. The first professor I had was also my advisor, and he would just flat up not respond to my emails. I don't think I'm too needy, I tend to get my work done on my own. I asked him the answer to a final question after the final was due and grades were posted, and he didn't reply to me. Like, okay dude. That's kind of rude. It's your job to teach me and I think I'm doing well by actually trying to learn what the correct answer is after the fact? Whatever. The second two classes were this same lady twice, and all my complaints about this semester can be applied to last semester, too.

Overall, I'm very glad my work paid for me to attend these classes and it was not coming out of my pocket, because if I was paying as much as work paid for this, I would have been in the dean's inbox every single semester with my issues lmao. I WILL be a Karen if it's warranted. Not grading *any* of my work until after the semester is over is unacceptable, not providing material on time is unacceptable, having exams that are indecipherable is unacceptable, etc etc. The list goes on. I didn't get my midterm grade until the final exam was open to take, also. If I as a student am expected to keep up with deadlines, my professor, as the professor, should also be expected to keep up with deadlines. (all within reason and with allowances for true problems, ofc)

[zorosimpclub]

late night at the office – Zoro NSFW

characters: zoro roronoa x fem!reader (he's your boss)

boss employee relationship, praising, degrading, light choking | smut | 18+ only – MDNI

word count: 5.5k

She glanced at the clock, it was 8PM and most if not all of her co-workers had gone home. She was assigned to this project by her boss, Zoro – the man was ruthless. He made her repeat her work if there was one small error. Sometimes even when there were 0 errors. That's how ruthless this man was. Today was no different, the client deadline was a few days away but he made her scrap her whole progress and start again.

Zoro sat in his office watching cameras his employees like a hawk, checking on each and every coworker he had. Until he looked at her, seeing her upset. His eyes narrowed and opened up his emails to write her one.

I need to see you in my office.

Minutes turned into hours until she received his email. She held her breath when she saw a small pop up flash on the corner of her laptop screen.

This can't be good, she thought. Sighing, she got up and made her way to his office, stopping right outside. She hesitated a little before finally mustering the courage to knock on it.

Zoro leaned back in his chair, checking through emails as he heard her footsteps outside his office.

“Come in.”

He looked up from his laptop, and fixed his gaze on her. He gestured to a small seat in front of his desk and waited for her to take a seat. She gulped slightly and sat down in the chair, she had no idea what to expect. Zoro was usually really hard to read and today was no different.

Zoro had folded his hands on his desk, looking at her with his sharp eyes. He didn’t waste any time – he didn’t believe in sugarcoating things and was a man of practicality.

”I see you work so hard yet you can’t seem to meet my expectations. I don’t know it your not trying hard enough or you’re just not good at your job."

She felt her lip quiver, he was harsh…there was no surprise there. She bit her bottom lip to fight herself from crying and waited for him to continue talking, knowing that he didn’t just call her into his office to just tell her that.

“I want this project done by the end of the week, I don’t want to hear any excuses. If you can’t get it done by the end of the week…you’re fired, is that understood?”

He wasn't really going to fire her, at most, he was planning to transfer her to another department. He didn't know why he was being such a dick to her...well, he did. Lately his bright eyed employee has been pissing him off. She keeps occupying his damn mind... that infectious smile of hers, her beautiful, innocent eyes...all of it. He didn't know how to feel and it was easier to get rid of her than just dealing with.

"I understand." She spoke up meekly, holding onto her composure so that she didn't burst out crying.

Zoro could see her eyes, they were filling with tears. For a brief moment, he almost felt bad for her. Almost. He let out a sigh and spoke softer whilst remaining stern.

“Good. You can leave but I want the first version of the draft first thing in the morning."

She gasped a little and looked at the clock in his office, "But Mr Zoro, it's 9PM now..."

She already knew what he'd say, it didn't matter because he was definitely going to ask her to pull an all nighter if necessary. It's not like he cared since he usually left the office quite late and in fact, this wasn't the first time she was working late. She wasn’t entirely sure that he had a life outside the office. He was the hardest worker she had ever met, always the last to leave but somehow the first to arrive.

Zoro's eyes locked onto hers.

“Do I need to repeat myself? I don’t care if you have to pull an all nighter here or at your house, as long as you submit the first draft tomorrow morning. That’s all I care about right now.”

At least she had the option to take her work home and work from there if needed. She stood up and excused herself, "Understood."

In the end she decided to finish as much as she could before leaving, she did work better here after all. She began typing away before she heard her co-worker Sanji settled down next to her briefly.

"Y/N my love, you're still here? I'm about to leave now, did you want me to give you a ride?" Sanji asked.

Zoro let out a soft groan as her placed his head against his palms, thoughts racing in his mind. He couldn’t take it. After she left his office, his heart pounded a little. He wanted to tell her that he wasn’t going to fire her and that he was harsh on her. He got up and walked out only to see Sanji next to her.

Zoro smirked a little sadistically, he knew what was going on with them. He wanted to hear Sanji ask her out and he wanted her to reject him. Again and again. He went to the water cooler to hear their conversation more clearly.

"Ah thanks Sanji but I don't think I'm leaving any time soon, I have this due tomorrow and it's much more peaceful here than home so I figured I'd stay until I get this done." She smiled softly at Sanji before typing away at her laptop.

Sanji huffed and leaned closer to her before whispering a joke in her ear, to which she giggled.

Zoro rolled his eyes as he heard Sanji’s whisper, hearing her giggle. His jaw clenched a little, he didn’t like her so close to another man, especially Sanji. It felt like he was so close to seeing her date this man, she’s too beautiful to be with someone like Sanji.

He drank some water, hearing Sanji make another remark, hearing her giggle again. He was getting jealous by the second.

He walked towards her desk and raised his brow at Sanji – he had always hated this man. Something about the way he spoke to her made him despise him.

"Why are you still here? Aren't you from the sales department?"

Sanji let out a chuckle, seeing Zoro walk towards his desk. A smug face on Sanji, as he spoke.

“Ah, yeah I’m in the sales department. I was just here for a client, I just happened to see her beautiful face and decided to visit.”

Zoro rolled his eyes again, he knew he was trying to make a move on her. Anyone with eyes could see how desperate he was towards her.

Zoro was furious but kept his calm, tone stern. "Yeah? Well she has something due in the morning so why don't you just leave instead of slowing her down?”

Sanji gave him a playful grin, his eyebrows raised.

“Wow! Mr. Zoro you are pretty protective of her, you should be careful otherwise someone might think you have a thing for your pretty little employee.”

Zoro's face got red as his fists clenched, he didn't like when people saw through him. He couldn't even respond to Sanji’s claims.

"Shut up." Zoro stormed off to his office, feeling a little embarrassed. Did that moron just practically confess for him?

Y/N blinked once. Twice. Thrice. What just happened? It all happened so fast. Why did Zoro get flustered like that?

She shook her head and sighed, "Anyway Sanji, I'm going to get back to work, please feel free to leave. Thanks for offering me to take home but I think I'll just get the late night bus back."

Zoro had his fists clenched, he wasn’t expecting Sanji to be so loud and put those words in her head. It made his blood boil in his veins as he slammed the door to his office with one hand. He sat at his desk, pushing his fingers through his hair. Why was his heart beating so fast? Why did he care so much about another man calling a woman beautiful? He didn’t know. He shook his head, this was getting ridiculous.

Time went on as he heard Sanji leave, the office became silent. It was all him and her.

Zoro couldn’t stand it, he watched from his desk. Seeing her stretch and hearing her tired yawns. Something in him got him to stand up and walk over to her desk. He towered over her.

“Its late, you should go home. You look tired.”

"But I haven't finished yet. I work better here." She shot him a soft smile and continued typing, feeling awkward that he was just standing there. She sensed some tension – what type of tension, she wasn’t sure quite yet.

With him, it was a mixed bag. He has been really kind to her but in a professional, stern way. But he’s also straight up been a dick to her, she wasn’t sure what to think.

He let out a sigh, his attention locked onto her soft smile, he couldn’t look away…it’s like he was mesmerised.

“I know I gave you that deadline earlier but I’ll give you more time. Just leave and get some rest, you need it.”

She perked up a little, "Thanks but I think I can finish up in a couple of hours..." It was obvious that he felt bad, he always does and she was grateful that he showed care for her. But she really wanted to prove to him and herself that she wasn't just going take the easy route.

He stayed silent, watching her type away on her keyboard. He felt like time was going incredibly slow, watching her fingers type. His eyes roamed from her hands to her face, back to her hands then back to her face. His face only got redder at the sight, damned feelings he thought.

–

He left the office and grabbed both of them some takeout before returning – he convinced himself that he would do this for any employee and that it was just him fulfilling his duty as a boss. He pushed open his office door with his shoulder and placed the takeout on his desk.

He should email her to come have dinner since it seems that she hadn't already had it.

After hesitating for the tenth time, Zoro opened his email and wrote to her.

I need to see you in my office.

He wasn't going to tell her that he got takeout, she probably wouldn't come if he did.

She sighed and got up as soon as she saw the email pop up in the corner of her screen. Walking over to his office, she rubbed her temples to prepare herself for whatever the man was about to throw at her.

Zoro watched her walk over to his office, the sight of her just walking over was enough to make him lose his mind.

The moment she walked in he gestured for her to sit down, he put the takeout in front of her. She had no idea the amount of willpower he was exerting to not just kiss her.

She raised a brow not knowing what he asked her here for, there's no way he called her in here because he got her food...right? Maybe he was going to eat in front of her knowing that she hadn’t had any dinner yet but he can’t be that cruel…right?

"You called sir?"

Zoro stayed silent, his heart pounded in his chest. What if she thinks it's inappropriate he bought her food? He felt like the air in the office got thicker as he looked at her. He spoke up with a firm tone, trying to get away from his thoughts.

"Eat."

She looked taken aback and looked at him as if he said the most incredulous thing ever, he was joking right? She didn't know what to say but on cue, her stomach grumbled. She had completely forgotten to eat dinner…

He watched her stomach grumbled, making him feel a little amused. His lips twitched, his eyes darted to the takeout and back to her, wanting her to eat. She hesitated for a bit and leaned in to grab part of her portion. He leaned back in his chair, not taking his eyes off her as she began eating.

His lips twitched into a little smile watching her eat, she looked so cute eating. Hell, she looked cute doing anything he thought. Zoro reached for his food and started to eat, his gaze never leaving her form. She ate nervously in silence, the food was good but she didn't know how to take this. Maybe he just felt bad for barking at her earlier.

His gaze was fixated on her eyes, occasionally his stare would wander to her lips as she chewed. Her nervous look only made her all the more gorgeous to his eyes.

He knew she wasn't aware of how attracted he was to her, to be fair, he didn’t know how attracted he was to her until it was just them alone. It was getting harder for him to hide it, every time he looked at her he wanted nothing more than to hold her close to him.

Everything was fine until she bit into the hotdog, causing the sauce to squirt on her cleavage. She panicked and wiped it off with her finger before licking it clean.

Zoro almost bit the side of his mouth as he saw her. She was eating the hotdog so innocently. He nearly lost it when the sauce made contact with her cleavage.

The sight of her innocently licking the sauce up with her tongue was enough for him to want to pin her to the wall and kiss her. But he snapped back to reality, he quickly cleared his mind and coughed a little.

"Thank you for the food." She squeaked, breaking the awkward silence that had built up.

Zoro let out a small chuckle. He looked at what she was wearing and had an inappropriate thought that he immediately pushed away.

“You’re welcome, you still have sauce on you,” He pointed to a spot of sauce on her cleavage that she had missed.

Y/N squealed a little and got flustered as she looked down to the sauce. Zoro got up and walked around his desk, sitting on it. He was directly in front of her now. She felt incredibly self conscious with the sauce still on her cleavage but for some reason she froze. She couldn’t move or say anything.

Zoro could feel himself getting more and more attracted to her. He watched as she seemed to freeze, it made him want to do something about it. He leaned forward, his face getting closer to hers.

“M-Mr Zoro?”

Zoro smirked a little at her squeaky voice. She looked so adorable right now, it made him want to close the gap between them.

“You’re so adorable...” He whispered leaning forward even more, his face inches away from hers.

She was shocked, this is so unexpected. Was she so tired that she was hallucinating?

“Y/N…" He called name her softly. He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving hers. He couldn't help but think about how badly he wanted to kiss her right now.

She closed her eyes, feeling his warm breath on her lips. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t think of him late at night, as harsh as the man was on her, he was often the object of her fantasies. In fact, she’d moaned his name as she pleasured herself countless times.

Zoro couldn't take it anymore, his eyes burning with desire. He couldn't resist any more, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips. It was more of a teasing kiss than anything else, but it she felt intense sparks.

The soft moan from her only fueled Zoro's passion. He deepened the kiss, his hands gently holding her face. He could feel her trembling against him, and it only made him want more.

He broke the kiss and dipped his head to her chest only to lick the sauce off without breaking eye contact. She gasped at the sight and tightened her grip on her chair. She wanted to touch him but she was too afraid to, she didn’t know how to approach the situation. Zoro pulled back slightly, his eyes twinkling with lust as he looked at her. He could feel the tension in the air, the desire radiating off of them both.

He couldn't help but chuckle softly, "You taste even better than I imagined.”

“Y-you’ve imagined tasting me?” She blushed deeply and locked her gaze onto his eyes.

“Well, you are pretty irresistible."

Zoro teased, his gaze never leaving hers. He wanted her, there was no denying it. He reached out and gently traced his fingers along her cheekbone, his touch sending shivers down her spine. She closed her eyes and leaned it to his touch, which left behind burning heat. Her body ached for him, it wasn’t a want anymore… it was a need.

Zoro could feel the heat radiating off of her, his desire for her only growing stronger. He leaned in closer, his lips mere inches from hers.

"I want you," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Let me show you how good I can make you feel…”

She looked up at him with those big doe eyes that he loved so much and nodded slowly.

Zoro's heart raced with anticipation as he leaned down to claim her lips once more, his hands running through her hair as he deepened the kiss. He knew he shouldn't go this far with her, but he couldn't help himself. He’d worry about the mess tomorrow. She fluttered her eyes shut and kissed back passionately, letting her hand roam his body shyly.

The kiss was intoxicating, and Zoro found himself lost in the heat of the moment. He groaned softly against her lips, his body responding to her touch. He broke the kiss for a moment, their breaths heavy and ragged.

"You're so fucking beautiful.”

She watched as he loosened his tie and smirked at her. She bit her bottom lip and squeezed her thighs together in response to how attractive he looked.

“Mr Zoro…”

Zoro reached out and undid the first button of her shirt, his eyes burning with desire.

"Don’t you think you need to be punished? For flirting with other men, hm?” he questioned, his voice husky with need.

He took of his tie and tied it around her eyes, blindfolding her. She gasped and stayed still, part of her feeling like it was on fire.He trailed his hands over her skin, unbuttoning more of her shirt as he went.

"I can’t believe I get to do this to you.”

She didn’t stop him, after all she did want him in every way. He took this as a sign to continue unbuttoning her shirt. His heart pounded in his chest as he exposed more of her skin to the cool air. His hands were shaking slightly, not from fear or hesitation, but from the overwhelming desire coursing through him.

"You’ve been driving me crazy.”

She gulped visibly and leaned her head back, exposing her naked neck and clavicle. Zoro's fingers brushed against her soft skin, tracing delicate patterns on her skin as he leaned in closer. His lips grazed her neck, his breath warm against her skin.

"You're making this very hard for me," he murmured against her skin.

He leaned down and took one of her nipples in his mouth, flicking his tongue sensually around it. A moan escaped from under her blindfold as she arched her back, offering more of herself to him. Her other nipple hardened at the sensation, begging for the same attention. He chuckled darkly and grazed his teeth against her as he gave her other nipple a pinch.

Her body trembled with anticipation and need. "Zoro," she panted, her voice filled with desire and longing. "Please...”

“Patience sweetheart. I did say that you were going to be punished didn’t I?” He sucked, bit and licked her nipples before lifting her skirt and moved her panties to the side. His rough hands slid over her mound, teasing her sensitive folds with his fingers.

"Look at you, dripping for me to touch you." he growled against her skin. "I'm going to fuck you until you scream, is that okay sweetheart?”

She grinded her hips on his fingers and nodded, begging to feel them inside of her. Unable to resist any longer, Zoro thrust his fingers inside of her, groaning at the feeling of her slick walls squeezing around him.

"You're so tight," he moaned, his pace becoming rougher.

She moaned and bucked her hips faster. It felt so good, she couldn’t even think straight. That however changed as soon as he slipped his fingers out of her, she moaned in protest and she heard something ruffling near her. She felt herself be lifted from the seat by her waist and laid down on the table.

“I think I have some space for dessert.”

Before she could ask what he meant, she felt something wet trail along her pussy. In an instant, she gripped his hair and ground herself against his tongue. Zoro moaned around her clit as he alternated between licking and sucking, loving the way she was writhing against his mouth. He moved to the side, sliding his tongue inside of her as he thrust two fingers inside of her.

“Mr Zoro!" she cried out, her body shaking with pleasure. Her hips bucked against his hands as she came undone, her moans echoing in the empty room.

As she finally came down from her orgasm, Zoro pulled his fingers out of her and stood up. He gave her a wicked grin.

"Now it's my turn." He pushed his pants and boxers down, freeing his already hard cock.

He took off her blindfold and yanked her to his chest.

“Now look at me when I fuck you," he growled, his voice dangerously low. He pushed her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes as he thrust into her, claiming her body completely. Her body was slick with their combined fluids as he slowly started to pick up speed, slamming into her with a primal groan.

He gripped her hair, pulling her head back as he took what he wanted from her. He peppered kisses and bites on her neck as he pounded mercilessly into her tight hole.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt of fucking you like this?”

She gasped, her body arching into his as he hit her sweet spot. "Mr Zoro…" she moaned, her voice filled with desire and lust.

"T-Too much." she panted, her body trembling under his relentless thrusting.

“Good. Your punishment is cumming over and over again until you can’t think straight, are we clear, princess?”

“Yes," she whimpered, her body throbbing with need. "Please.”

He thrust into her so deep, she swore she could feel him hitting her cervix. She could feel every inch of him pulsating inside of her, claiming her like he would never get to touch her again. His fingers found her clit, rubbing it roughly and sending waves of pleasure through her.

He withdrew from her slowly, only to push back in hard, his muscles rippling as he hit the spot that made her scream out his name. His hips snapped with each hard thrust, driving him deep inside of her.

She held her breath as his balls slapped against her ass in all the right places. She could feel herself getting closer but the pleasure was overwhelming, making it nearly impossible to think straight. Her body tensed, her walls clenching around him in anticipation.

Her cries of pleasure and pain mingled together, echoing through the room. Her climax hit her hard, her body shuddering underneath him. Zoro’s own climax was imminent, his cock throbbing inside her.

“Look at you, you’re such a little slut aren’t you? Pretending to be innocent with those big pretty eyes but here you are, taking dick from your boss like a cumslut.” He chuckled dryly and pushed her against the door, her chest rubbing against the door every time he thrusted into her.

Zoro lightly gripped her neck and fucked her senseless, he wanted to have her like this every day. Everyday whilst everyone outside had no clue what was going on inside. Her eyes widened, both from the pleasure and surprise of his grip on her neck.

She couldn't help but moan loudly, her body arching off the door in response to his rougher actions. "Y-yes, Mr Zoro!”

"That's it, moan my name princess." He groaned out, thrusting harder into her. His grip on her neck tightened slightly, not enough to hurt her but enough to leave a mark if anyone were to find them like this.

She moaned his name, her body trembling from the intense pleasure and the sensation of being taken by him. "Ahh...”

Her eyes rolled back in her head, lost in the pleasure he was giving her. "Mr Zoro!" She cried out, her body shuddering under his rough treatment. She couldn't believe how much she craved this dominance from him. Zoro leaned in, his free hand running up her leg and over her thigh, his fingers finding her clit again.

He circled her clit slowly, teasing her further as he continued to fuck her against the door. "You're mine to claim whenever I want, understand?”

Her body convulsed around his fingers and his cock, her voice barely more than a whimper now. "Y-yes, Mr Zoro!" She panted, her eyes locked onto his. There was no denying the truth in her words—she belonged to him completely.

Feeling her submission, Zoro groaned deeply, his hips snapping faster as he took her roughly against the door.

"And you'll always remember this, won't you?" He asked, his voice thick with lust and possession.

"Y-yes, Mr Zoro," she panted, her voice barely audible over their heavy breaths. "I'll always remember this."

Hearing her confirm his words, Zoro felt a rush of power course through him. He gripped her tighter, biting his bottom lip as he drove deeper into her, claiming her in every sense of the word.

Her cries of pleasure mixed with his name filled the room, echoing off the walls. Her body arched off the door, meeting his brutal thrusts with unyielding desire. This was their dance—one of dominance and submission, pain and pleasure—and she was his perfect partner.

“I’m going to fill you up with my cum, got it?”

"Please, yes!" she whimpered, feeling his thick cock throbbing against her sensitive walls. The thought of him filling her up with his seed sent shivers of anticipation down her spine.

"That's my obedient princess." He groaned out, his voice low and rough with lust as his hips pistoned into her. His pace grew more rapid, his cock sliding in and out of her with brutal speed as he prepared to unleash his seed inside her.

“Fuck! Take my load!”

“Mmph!" She gasped, feeling him pulsing inside of her. His cum filled her up, claiming her in the most intimate way possible. She cried out his name as the intensity of the sensations washed over her.

She screamed, her body shuddering under the pleasure. Every muscle in her body was taut with anticipation as he continued to empty himself into her. His hips bucked wildly against hers, driving him deeper still as he claimed her completely.

"Look at me when you take my cum."

He snarled, yanking her head back by the hair, forcing her to meet his gaze as he exploded inside her. His words snapped her back to reality, and she finally registered the loud grunts of his orgasm echoing around them as his cum shot into her, filling her up and making her sob out his name again.

He pulled out of her and carried her to his chair before sitting down with her in his lap. Panting heavily, she felt him shift her so that she was now sitting in his lap, her legs dangling slightly. Her body trembled from the aftermath of their intense lovemaking, her heart still racing from the sheer intensity of it all.

“So…” she started.

He looked down at her, his eyes dark and smoldering with lust. "So," he drawled, running a rough thumb over her swollen lips, "you just fucked your boss huh?" His voice was rough with satisfaction and pride.

She blushed and hid her face with her hands.

Chuckling softly, Zoro wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.

“It's alright, I won't fire you.” he teased, his other hand traced gentle patterns on her stomach, trying to soothe her blush. “In fact…from now on, this is your duty.”

He growled low in his throat, nibbling on her earlobe as he started to grind his hard cock against her still-sensitive core.

"Every day during work, you come to my office and let me have my way with you, understood?”

“Y-yes, Mr Zoro," she whispered, shivering in pleasure at the thought of the things he would do to her.

“Good girl." He murmured approvingly before leaning down to capture her lips in a slow, deep kiss that left her reeling. As he held her close, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that from now on, this beautiful woman was his to claim whenever he wanted.

“Oh and your work is actually good, I was just being harsh on you because I wanted to not like you." He admitted sheepishly “I was never planning to fire you, sorry for being rude to you.”

She blushed and cuddled against him, her heart fluttering with happiness. "Thank you, Mr Zoro." She looked up at him, her eyes shining with adoration and desire. "I'm glad I didn't disappoint you.”

“Zoro.”

“Hm?” She looked at him, a little puzzled as to why he was saying his own name.

“Just Zoro.” He smiled at her and captured her lips into a sweet kiss.

"Yes, Zoro," she breathed, returning his kiss eagerly. A warm shiver ran down her spine as he continued to touch her in ways that made her body tremble with anticipation. She was his now, completely and utterly.

"That's a good girl." He whispered against her lips before pulling back to look into her eyes.

"Now, let me drive you home." His tone was both commanding, leaving no room for hesitation or refusal. He wasn’t going to let her get the bus alone, definitely not at this hour. She nodded.

–

Once they reached her home, he parked the car carefully. His hand gently guided her out of the vehicle, their connection undeniable. As they stood on her porch, he leaned down and captured her lips once more, his tongue teasing and tasting her mouth.

He pulled away and stroked her hair lightly, “In all seriousness, this wasn’t driven by lust. Well, part of it was… but I do like you. A lot.”

His words sent a shiver down her spine, making her heart race even faster. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with desire and a hint of admiration.

"I... I like you too, Zoro…do you want to come inside?" she whispered softly, biting her lower lip nervously. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he took her hand,

"Alright then, let's continue this inside." His voice was sweet but seductive, his grip firm yet gentle.

-–

As always, feel free to request a fic! :) Here's my third Zoro fic (I cannot stop writing about this man helP RJSGIOEJ) anyway, please lmk if you enjoyed this one! seeing comments on my last few fics made my day (maybe that's why i'm churning out these fics so fast??? LMAO) <3

[whentherewerebicycles]

okay we are almost at the end of this mad dash. here's the update:

teaching statement: i went over it with liz and made a couple changes but it's sooo close. i need to work on the conclusion a bit but i also think the original draft i had is okay so i am hoping to spend MAX 15 minutes on this tomorrow. plus i gotta do a final readthrough as i was shuffling things around a lot and want to make sure all the internal transitions work. but gosh i'm really happy with how it turned out.

cover letter #1: DONE. i just knocked out the last paragraph which had been giving me fits. it's not perfect but it's done. i will do one last close readthrough tomorrow.

diversity statement: god i am so freaking close i just have to clean up two sentences in one paragraph and then rewrite the currently very bland conclusion. i wasn't happy with this one last night and did a ton of work overhauling it today. i think it's good!

now the big pieces that are left:

cover letter #2: this job doesn't have a separate teaching statement so i am going to have to frankenstein together a new cover letter and answers to their supplemental questions. for some reason i am less psyched about this job than the other one but the commute would be absolutely unbeatable, like honestly just kind of life-changing esp with the baby, so i do want to at least try for it.

resume: uhh i started adding to it tonight but i have more work to do on that front. i am going to try to spend no more than 30 minutes on it tomorrow. maybe even 20 minutes. i wrote down a bunch of notes for it in a document somewhere i just gotta find that document and update it real quick.

supplemental questions: GODDD these are going to kick my ass tomorrow. i just started copying over big chunks for a couple of them but they're not all a great fit and i will need to spend most of my available work time tomorrow focused on these.

okay god how is it almost 10pm. ok now a super quick checklist of things i need to do tomorrow in distilled form and roughly in order of priorities:

text MC and E to get updated info for reference and figure out who my third one is gonna be... maybe i will ask KB from current job??

write online teaching short answer

write future of composition pedagogy short answer (lol who fuckin knows)

modify/rewrite diversity short answer to be more factual (can use material from older drafts)

modify teaching short answer

THEN i can:

6. read teaching statement very carefully for typos and concision

7. finish teaching statement conclusion (don't you dare overthink it)

8. read diversity statement closely

9. finish diversity statement projects paragraph and conclusion

10. finish resume entries

11. rework cover letter for job #2 if i have time... if not we will submit as is, baby!

[meg2md]

Operation: Trying To Get My Shit Together

It's my last week of nights, but like I said before, even though it's ass and I'm constantly in a state of existential dread, the hours are considerably better than normal day shift hours and I actually have a relative ton of free time as long as the floor isn't on fire and I'm not expecting transports. I read through all 41 volumes of Berserk in the past 3 weeks and have (almost) recovered from the emotional trauma it inflicted on me, and now I have one week left and no hyperfixations that call me too strongly. So I guess I can work on getting my life together lol.

Academic responsibilities:

M&M - draft due Tues, about half done

CREOG - test in January

ACOG - need to make AROM demos and borrow some amnihooks/FSEs, e-mail about borrowing CE demos, end of Oct

M3 surgical skills - submit simulation center form!!!!, next month

Urogyn - prepare for surgical cases next block by reading/watching videos, next week

Conferences: book hotels, flights; schedule reimbursement - this month

Research: meet about SDOH study paper; log into Athena to prep for data collection for Sedation project; touch base with JC about if AI study going anywhere

Fellowship: app in May, the biggest things are figuring out when/how to ask for LOR and drafting a personal statement. And then hoping my extracurriculars and research are enough :( also potentially an away rotation for end of March/early April - need to meet with MIGS ppl next week to discuss next steps

But the most stressful thing that's been weighing on me for MONTHS is my finances and disorganized spending. This week I REALLY REALLY REALLY want to get my budget it order. I can't even imagine how much my stress levels will improve if I don't have this crushing dread about my finances hanging over my head. This includes

Figuring out loans and how/when to pay them back

Budgeting software (I used YNAB previously)

Paying back my friend who lent me money for vet bills

Calling insurance to see why therapy costs so freaking much

My spending has been out of control!!!! It is like, the absolute worst, most damaging symptom of my ADHD that I don't have a good handle on yet, especially when I'm so dysregulated from nights. I thought I could work on it over the weekend but alllllll my limited, limited energy was spent on basic self-care (laundry, dishes, cleaning floor) and I had NOTHING left.

Anyway. Today is for starting on the budget journey and working on M&M. Maybe I'll log into YNAB and reset some things and just start over. ho hum

I'm just..... so beaten down, so tired. I have so much existential angst. Like idk that I'd want to do anything other than medicine in my life, but like..... what's the point of living ? Lol. Is this all there is? I don't have a partner, I don't have many friends near here. I don't want to not be alive but I like, need a reason to live

:')

[automatismoateo]

This shit just pisses me off via /r/atheism

This shit just pisses me off You’ve probably heard by now that earlier today the us bombed Iran and just now Donald Trump just addressed the nation where he basically said if Iran doesn’t agree to peace, he’ll do much worse than he just did to them. Anyway I was texting my friend about this. Me and her share many of the same political beliefs however she believes in god and I don’t. I was just venting to her about how I’m scared about what’s gonna happen and this is what she said: “I’m sorry but you should be, Ik you don’t believe in him but I was you I’d dead ass get close to god now if you really don’t wanna get drafted” I’m just kinda annoyed with her, it seems like she’s threatening me with being drafted unless I get close to god. This isn’t the first time she’s urged me to get close to god in order to get what I want. I just don’t like being told that if I don’t get close to god bad things are gonna happen to me. If god was real would he really be letting all this shit happen right now? UPDATE Here’s how the conversation continued Me: Are you trying to insult me? Sorry I don’t understand what you mean Her: Yk I believe in god and I believe that whoever isn’t with him well things don’t go exactly how they want too Me: Ohh okay well I respect your beliefs but I’m gonna have to ask you to please not project that onto me. I know you’re just trying help but you telling me bad things will happen if I’m not close to god is not what I need rn so if you could please keep that to yourself I appreciate it. Since it’s hard to understand tone over text I’m not trying to be passive aggressive I’m just respectfully asking you to keep that to yourself. Is that okay? Her: I’m telling you the truth if you don’t like to hear it it’s on you If you don’t like the way I am why do you keep coming back? For context on that last text we had a fight about a month ago and didn’t speak for sometime. I actually reached out to her a few days ago because she is an El Salvadoran immigrant and with all the mass deportations I thought it would be the right thing to reach out to her and see if she’s okay. Submitted June 22, 2025 at 04:22AM by Any_Topic_9538 (From Reddit https://ift.tt/drQG7Es)

[talesfromasnarkylisa]

Lacey: Chapter 25

Lacy’s Diaries: September 0X, 2023

Dear Lord, I am not getting good vibes from Archer fucking J at all. Let’s see:

-He told me that I should try and accept more pieces written in an illegible cursive font for Music Refined. Barring the fact that I’ve only been getting slightly more content to go over than during the time when I had just emailed Tate and Theodore, it is just common sense in most publications to host pieces people can actually read. Not fancy formatting for the sake of it.

-He asked me to help him understand an email with a bunch of French clichés which didn’t make it past Google Translate or even DeepL due to them, all because I told him I knew some French. Forget the fact that I explicitly told him in DMs multiple times that it was only at a B2 level and I forgot most figures of speech! Nope, just had to run to me specifically about it instead of even posting parts of it on a Reddit throwaway.

-What makes me most suspicious, though, is his advice when it came to Writer’s Delight. You see, I submitted a draft to them about the dangers of AI generated writing on Medium. They rejected it without explaining why, so I emailed Vivian about it. She unfortunately had no clue, which forced me to try emailing Alfred. Archer suggested that I try to flood the inboxes of some of the lower ranking editors regarding my rejection. Needless to say, I’m not dumb enough to not realize that spam is a horrible idea.

In other news, I’m doing so much better with Folkin. Betty (yes, that’s Lovergirl’s real name and not just a publicity stunt from last year) boosted my recent piece there. Granted, it hasn’t exactly helped my follower count or fan base increase in numbers. It’s already been a few days, so I don’t think much will change. But it did get me my first 1000 clapped article.

I’ve only been in university for a few days and Jesus Christ, it has been kicking my ass already. It’s been studying on top of homework and even group projects already, for heaven’s sake. But at least I still have a little free time - if only because I sacrifice sleep and work at lunch more now.

I went out with Dina in the evening today. We went out to Queen’s Park. Dina was dared by a new friend of hers into chugging 3 cups of hot tea consecutively at night in under two minutes. Out of morbid curiosity, I decided to unofficially join in on the dare. I say “unofficially” because I don’t even know who this friend is. Besides, I wanted to provide my best friend some encouragement to stay away from excessive dieting.

I had just finished my last drink when my smartphone rang. It was from Otto, so I accepted the call.

“Hey Otto!” I greeted. 

“Hello,” I greeted back. “How’s America been?”

“It’s been okay,” Otto answered. “Look, I kinda wanna talk about something in private.”

I lowered my phone’s volume.

“Alright,” I responded. “Hold on a sec.”

I muted my phone’s microphone.

“Dina,” I waved to her, “I need some privacy right now to talk to Otto about something.”

“Ok!” Dina exclaimed. “Just make sure you can be back at eight.”

I went into the bushes.

“What’s up?” I asked Otto.

“Has Dina been acting unusually lately?” he wondered.

“Not really,” I told him. “We just had a tea drinking challenge.”

Otto sighed in relief.

“Well,” he stated, “that’s good to hear. I’ve been a little worried she was still trying to overdiet since I left.”

“Don’t worry,”  I said. “Dina’s doing fine. At least, I think she is. We’ve been best friends for years. She’d tell me if something was really going wrong. Even if she doesn’t get into the nitty-gritty.”

“Yeah…I don’t know about that,” Otto replied. “I’m gonna be completely honest: there is shit going on in my life that you guys have no clue about. There are things that have happened to me months and years ago which I haven’t hinted at when it comes to anyone, let alone you and Dina.”

I froze for a moment. Sure, Otto has always been timid. But secretive with his friends? I was surprised. I was the first person he came out to about being aroace and trans and Dina was the first person to find out about him being ganged up on by a quintet of boys back in high school because he dared to talk to one of their girlfriends about a health project. 

Then again, I haven’t been the most transparent about my online life, either. Dina knows about my Lacey Hannah profiles and vague snippets of my more private interactions with people, but that’s about it. I have not told her about what’s been going on between Archer and I since last month. And Otto? Forget it. He only knows the top of the iceberg’s tip.

I reassured Otto that he could tell me anything when all of a sudden, I heard my phone buzz off. It was a text from Dina - who wondered where I was and if everything was okay. I told her I was fine and that I’d be back soon.

“You there?” Otto asked.

“Yeah,” I responded. “Sorry, just got a text from Dina. I have to go back with her soon. But my messages are always open to you.”

“Alright then,” Otto stated. “You can always contact me as well for stuff. Even if…”

I adjusted the volume.

“Did you want to say something?” I wondered.

“Never mind,” Otto answered. “Bye for now.”

“Goodbye!” I ended the call.

(Wattpad version: https://www.wattpad.com/1518386249-lacey-chapter-25)

[kerikaaria]

Hanging by a Thread

(Yoongi x Taehyung) Oneshot, Soulmate!au

Genre: (NC-17) ANGST. BUCKETS OF ANGST. With some fluffy fluff.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (just some friends hanging out and going to a bar and club, nothing crazy), mentions of past abuse (undetailed and brief), homophobic side character, brief mention of minor character’s death (happened in the past)

WC: 16.3k

Description: Yoongi thinks he is unlovable, and Taehyung doesn’t believe in soulmates. When they meet, Yoongi feels a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, this person can love him the way he craves. Except, Taehyung only gives Yoongi a single glance before walking away, taking the last piece of his heart with him.

A/N - This fic is submitted for the “Dishonest Love” project for Valentine’s Day 2021 with @thebtswritersclub​ ! It was something that the amazing @eternalseokjin​ had pitched to me months ago when I said I wanted to write something angsty but didn’t know what, and here it is, FINALLY done! It’s also my first official MxM fic, in honor of the great MxM writer who pitched me the idea. Thank you, Dean! <3

Also, I had wanted to get a beta reader for this but.... I literally just finished and am posting it LITERALLY last minute after quickly reading and editing through myself. So if there’s stuff I missed, sorry! I hope it still reads well!

Yoongi walked into the now familiar building, easily directing himself to the third floor as usual. He had been routinely coming here for a few weeks now, and he found himself looking forward to his meetings with Jimin. The building itself was a bit smaller than he had originally expected for an entertainment company, and he remembered needing to stop and take a look around the first time he walked through the front doors. The lobby was rather welcoming, not so monochrome and sleek as many other businesses liked to keep their interiors.

The comfy-looking couches in the seating area were complementary tones of brown and blue, the plants placed nearby looking much more real than the plastic ones found at Yoongi’s workplace. The bit of actual life brought into the lobby just added to the much more welcoming feel here, something Yoongi had really come to appreciate these past weeks. Wall-length windows brought plenty of natural light into the open room, and along with the colorful but tasteful art hanging on the walls, the area emitted a warmth that reached into Yoongi’s bones. Much different from the cold atmosphere he was used to.

He didn’t even need to stop at the reception desk on his way in anymore since the staff easily recognized him. After the first week, he didn’t need to schedule appointments anymore either. He and Jimin would text and arrange their own times when they were available to meet.

Walking into the studio they were using, that now had temporary touches of Yoongi as well since he spent a fair amount of time working there, was more than natural by this point. It even felt more comfortable than his own studio lately.

Jimin smiled lazily at Yoongi. “Hey, Yoongi!”

“Hey, Jimin,” Yoongi responded as he pulled out the couple pieces of equipment he liked to use and always brought with him since they weren’t available here. “I have a demo to share with you today.”

Jimin’s eyes widened in excitement. “Really? Let me hear it!”

Yoongi chuckled. “Let me get set up first, huh?”

The first meeting Yoongi had with Jimin weeks ago went better than he had expected. He seemed to be just about as nice and personable as he acted in public, which was something Yoongi certainly couldn’t say for many of the other artists he worked with. By the end of it, he felt like he had a pretty good understanding of the type of song that Jimin was hoping to sing.

To be honest, Yoongi was surprised his company even agreed to let him meet with Jimin at all. This certainly wasn’t the first time someone from another label had requested a song produced by SUGA, but it was the first that his company approved. Usually they’d instantly refuse the request, wanting to keep Yoongi’s work exclusively for them.

Maybe they felt like Jimin wasn’t enough of a threat to compete with their own artists. But even just from the research Yoongi had done prior to meeting him, listening to his music and watching a few interviews to get an idea of who he’d be working with, he knew better. Jimin might not have been at the top, but he had been steadily gaining popularity since he first debuted a few years ago. He for sure had the talent, not only in singing but also dancing, and with just the right song and publicity he was sure Jimin would become a force to be reckoned with in the industry.

Working with Jimin on this song had been more than a breath of fresh air for Yoongi as well. The label Jimin belonged to didn’t feel the need to dictate every step they took with the song, letting them have the freedom to come up with a song that was a pleasant middle ground between what Yoongi wanted to write and what Jimin wanted to perform. Which surprisingly enough, was much less of a middle ground and more like almost exactly what both of them wanted.

After getting everything set up and pulling up the track that he finished putting together last night, Yoongi pressed play. It was still rather rough, needed finetuning and a more solid melody to go with it, but Yoongi felt like he managed to write something that both of them would be happy with.

The first few demos he made didn’t quite fit the bill, either Jimin not liking it as much as Yoongi wanted him to, Yoongi himself not being completely happy with the outcome, or a combination of both. But this one, he felt was different. He had a feeling this song was going to be it.

A smile quickly spread on Jimin’s face as he listened, giving away that he was indeed pleased with the song. He refrained from commenting until after the last beat had finished, but as soon as it did words flooded from him.

“Wow, that sounds amazing! It’s almost like you looked into my mind and managed to turn exactly what I was hoping for into a reality. I absolutely love it!”

Yoongi tried not to feel embarrassed from the praise as he smiled to himself. “Well, I mean my notebook filled with notes on what you wanted your song to be is pretty much that.” He shrugged. “I just wrote something based on those notes, and based on what I wanted to do.”

“I might be prejudiced,” Jimin said, “but I really think this might even end up being better than all your other songs,” Jimin said, tone light but seeming to only be partially joking. “It just sounds more… I don’t know. More real? Like not as artificial or manufactured.”

When Yoongi stared unmoving at Jimin for a moment, the singer backtracked a bit. “That’s not to say that your songs are bad, or anything! I really love them! It’s why I asked if we could reach out to your company, see if you could write me a song. But, I don’t know. It just sounds different.”

“I agree,” Yoongi admitted, nodding. “Sometimes I don’t even recognize my own work by the time it ends up being released, to be honest.”

Jimin furrowed his brows at him. “What do you mean?”

The elder casually shrugged. “It’s nothing. But if this gets through, I think I’ll be really happy with it.”

Jimin smiled brightly, eyes almost closed from the force of it. “Everyone will love it. I just know it.”

Yoongi was a pretty reserved person, finding very few people who he considered friends. But despite not being nearly as social or chatty as Jimin was, he found himself hoping that even after their song was done and released that they would keep in touch.

During the second week of working together, he had caught himself staring at the string on his finger that was only visible to himself many times. It was almost as if he hoped that it would suddenly connect to the other man in the room. Of course, he couldn’t be that lucky. It didn’t bother him, though. He quickly stopped the habit and was perfectly happy with the friendship that was possibly forming between the two of them.

However, it wasn’t much longer that he had to wait for the string that usually faded out into nothing to finally connect to its other end. In fact, it was later the same day that Yoongi had played the first draft of what they finalized as the new song for Jimin.

Yoongi was on his way back to his apartment when he felt it. A tiny tug on his hand that he barely noticed at first. But just a moment later, there it was again. When he looked down, he could see that it was the thread attached to his finger, the string longer than usual and pulled taut.

His heart sped up at the idea of his soulmate being nearby. After 26 years, he thought he’d never meet them. That he was just doomed to be alone and never feel loved. But his soulmate would love him, wouldn’t they? They had to.

Yoongi followed the string, trying to focus on that single task and not think too hard about who could be on the other end. The red thread was leading him toward a higher end clothing store, growing even longer the closer he got until he was standing just outside of the entrance to the shop.

He took in a deep breath, preparing himself before pulling the glass door open.

Once he was inside, the thread no longer tapered off into nothingness, but instead finished its path. Yoongi carefully followed it until he found the person it was connected to. He slowly took in the figure, feeling all of his breath leave him at once.

On the other end of the string was the most handsome man Yoongi had ever laid his eyes upon, perusing a rack of colorful shirts. Curly dark locks just long enough to fall into his eyes, facial features striking enough for him to be a model, and a gorgeous tan to his skin.

Yoongi was speechless, suddenly unsure of how to approach this man who was made to be his soulmate. He couldn’t help the brief feeling that he looked vaguely familiar, but shrugged it off. He would have certainly known if they met before. Worried that he would come across as a creep just staring at the stranger, he turned around to find something in the store to pretend to contemplate buying—although everything here was more expensive than what he’d usually buy.

As he started walking in the other direction he felt the tug on his hand once more, the string apparently wanting him to keep approaching the man on the other end. Yoongi looked over his shoulder to see if the other had noticed, and he froze when he met the beautiful man’s gaze.

The stranger’s eyes flickered down, clearly looking at the red thread tying them together. He then glanced up once more, again meeting Yoongi’s line of sight, before starting to walk in his direction.

Yoongi opened his mouth as the handsome man approached, ready to introduce himself to his soulmate. But before he could even get a syllable out, the man had walked right past him, opening the door and leaving the store. He didn’t look back even once.

Yoongi could feel the string pulling and tugging, not wanting the two of them to be separate after it had finally connected. The line remained taut, not dimming or fading out for a few moments. But then Yoongi could have sworn he felt it snap as it slackened, the string falling and its connection fading out into nothingness and resuming its usual length on Yoongi’s finger, a little duller than it had been before.

Yoongi stood in the middle of the store, unable to move. He had waited for 26 years to meet his soulmate, the one person in this world that he had hoped would be able to love him, only for him to walk away without a word.

“Sir, if you’re not going to buy anything, would you please leave?” a store associate said, returning Yoongi’s mind to the present.

He bowed in apology before walking out the door, staring wistfully in the direction that his soulmate had left.

Apparently not even fate had the power to make someone love him.

By the time Yoongi downed his third beer, Namjoon was looking worried. But he wasn’t going to ask. That was one of the things Yoongi loved about his best friend. He could read him like an open book, but also knew that if there was something to talk about he would come to it in his own time. Namjoon didn’t push or pressure him to talk before he was ready, just waited for him to be.

When Yoongi had knocked on Namjoon’s door with an abundance of beer and chicken wings, the latter already knew that something was up and his friend needed company. His understanding wife called her own friends to arrange a night out and let the men have the house to themselves. She was also Yoongi’s friend, but she knew this was something that only Joon could help with.

It wasn’t until the fifth beer that Yoongi had enough liquid courage in him to tell Namjoon what was on his mind. Gripping the half-empty bottle, he muttered out the words he never thought would end up being as solemn as they were.

“I met my soulmate.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened as he took a good look at the elder. “Seriously?” Answered with a single nod, he only became more confused. “So what’s wrong?” he carefully asked. “I figured when that happened we’d be drinking to celebrate, but you’re not exactly in a celebratory mood.”

Yoongi took in a deep breath in preparation for the next words he would mutter. “He took one look at me and walked away. Didn’t even say a word.”

The look on Namjoon’s face fell into solemn understanding. “Oh,” he said. “Yeah, that… That explains it.”

“Am I that disgusting?” Yoongi asked, looking up at the other earnestly. “Am I that ugly? That undesirable? Just one look, and he hated me already.”

“I highly doubt that, Yoongs,” Namjoon said. “First off, you’re not ugly. You’re actually very good looking, and not at all disgusting. But to hate someone just by looking at them without knowing anything about them? Impossible. Are you sure he saw you?”

“He looked me right in the eyes, Joon,” Yoongi said exasperatedly, harshly setting his bottle down on the table. “Looked me in the eyes, looked back at our string, then walked right past me and out the door.”

Namjoon chewed on his bottom lip in thought. He was going to try to rationalize, just like his smart brain always did. Always trying to think logically before emotionally. “Maybe he had never been interested in men before,” he suggested. “It may have been a shock to him to see that his soulmate was a man.”

“I don’t know. He didn’t look shocked or confused or anything. He had the most blank expression on his face. Like he just didn’t care.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it, looking away. But Yoongi had a pretty good idea what he was thinking. That maybe he was one of those people who didn’t care about soulmates. It wasn’t very common, but not unheard of. Maybe that was him, maybe he was already in a relationship. But did he have to just ignore Yoongi, though?

“But did he have to just ignore me, though?” Yoongi voiced his last thought. “He could have said something, at least.”

Shrugging, Namjoon took a swig from his second bottle. “It would have been nice of him to, definitely. I’m sorry man, I really don’t know what to say other than whether it’s your soulmate or not, you’ll find someone for you.”

“Yeah, the odds aren’t looking too good for that,” Yoongi scoffed before chugging almost the rest of his bottle.

“I’ve already said it so many times, but I’ll say it again,” Namjoon said, honest and strong gaze fixated on his friend. “You’re worth love, Yoongi. Regardless of how others have treated you in the past. They don’t matter. And if this soulmate of yours really doesn’t want to even give you a chance, then he doesn’t either. You’re worthy of being loved, deserve to be loved. The right person will come around eventually.”

Yoongi wanted to argue, but he knew he wouldn’t win. When it came to this topic, Namjoon would always have the last word, refusing to let Yoongi believe anything else. Every time he had been hurt, whether it was by yet another person who found his sexuality disgusting or someone who told him all the right words only to break his heart in the end, Namjoon was always there. He always gave him the ‘you’re not worthless’ speech. While Yoongi was heavily inclined to not believe it, it had always been enough to at least keep him going.

The two fell back into silence—not uncomfortable, but still heavy with the weight of Yoongi’s heart. It didn’t matter if no more words were exchanged until they decided they were done drinking and went to sleep. Yoongi would fall asleep next to his best friend, at least comforted by the fact that even if he never found someone who would love him the way he craved, he had someone who did love him in some way and would never leave him alone.

One of the benefits of Yoongi’s personality that he’d realized years ago was that when he was upset about something, the average person was none the wiser. A storm could be brewing in his mind, but because his expression was blank and his eyes had a hardened look to them during even a normal day, no one would have any idea. Well, except for Namjoon.

It meant that he didn’t have people constantly asking him what was wrong. Which he was extremely thankful for when he saw Jimin again two days later, the singer coming to visit Yoongi at his own studio this time. It was possible he took notice that Yoongi was a tad less talkative than normal, but if he did notice anything at all he just shrugged it off easily.

“Do you not like decorating?” Jimin asked after they finished working on the song for the day.

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows raised.

“I noticed that you don’t really have much of a… personal touch to your studio,” Jimin shrugged.

“Not allowed,” Yoongi mumbled in response as he shut down the computer.

“You’re not allowed to decorate? Not at all?”

“Nope. The studio belongs to the company, not me. I just use it.”

“Huh.” Jimin seemed genuinely confused at the concept. “But like, people who have office jobs are allowed to decorate their spaces. They have pictures at their cubicles, or if they have a room to themselves they can arrange it how they want, can’t they?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know. It’s not like the studio we’re using at your company is decorated with your stuff.”

“Yeah, but we’re just borrowing it,” Jimin countered. “After we’re done with the song, someone else will use it. Whenever I visit the producers at our company, their studios are always decorated. Each one looks different, unique to them.”

“I don’t really care either way,” Yoongi said. “It’s just a room.”

The younger’s face scrunched up a bit, deep in thought for a moment. “It just feels like you don’t have much freedom here,” he carefully said after a moment.

“Comes with the territory, I guess,” Yoongi said. “I work for my boss, not myself. He decides what is good and what isn’t.”

“But the tracks you showed me earlier, they sounded so much better than the versions that were released. They were amazing.”

Earlier when they were a bit dry on ideas for the song, Jimin had been curious about demos of some of Yoongi’s other music, and so the producer had decided to play a few samples for him. Yoongi absolutely agreed with Jimin, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t up to him what was good or not.

“Our company doesn’t do that,” Jimin mumbled, almost too quiet for Yoongi to hear.

But he did. “Do what?” he asked for clarification.

“I mean, it’s not like they don’t ask for revisions on songs if they need some work still,” the singer said. “But our producers have a lot more freedom than it seems like you do here. They’re happy with the versions of their songs that get released. I just wish you could be, too. Your music is absolutely amazing and it deserves to be heard the way you want it to be.”

Unsure of what to say, Yoongi stared at the other, blinking. Eventually, when his mind caught up he said, “Well, nothing I can really do about that at this point.”

Jimin frowned, knowing that he was right. “Well, I’m positive my company is going to love this song we’re releasing,” he attempted to lighten the mood a bit.

“I hope so,” Yoongi said. “I haven’t enjoyed writing a song this much in a long time.”

“Well, I’m honored that it’s a song for me, then,” Jimin said, a smile back on his face. “And I hope that it’s just the start of you enjoying it again.”

Butterflies flying into his chest at Jimin’s kind words, Yoongi found himself glancing at the thread on his finger once again. He already met his soulmate, he knew it wasn’t Jimin. But he couldn’t help but wonder if only.

His expression must have become more readable than usual because it was only a few short moments later when Jimin asked, “Yoongi? Are you alright?”

It took Yoongi a moment to look back up at Jimin. “Have you met your soulmate, Jimin?” he blurted out.

The singer seemed surprised at the sudden question. “My- my soulmate?” His expression changed to the saddest Yoongi had seen him yet. “Well, yeah, I met her. I met her a long time ago. But we’re not together. Why do you ask?”

Yoongi couldn’t help being curious about why that was. But, he realized asking about Jimin’s soulmate was already treading dangerously into overstepping and it wouldn’t be appropriate to keep prodding. “No reason,” he shrugged. “I was just curious. Sorry.”

Jimin’s smile returned. “It’s alright. It’s natural to be curious, I guess. I’m a bit strange for not being with my soulmate, huh?”

“No,” Yoongi immediately responded. “I don’t think you’re strange at all.”

“What about you?” Jimin asked, somewhat hesitantly. “If you feel like sharing.”

Yoongi stared at his string one more time. “I ran into them once in a store,” he said, being careful not to specify gender. “But no, I haven’t properly met them.”

Nodding, Jimin seemed to understand that Yoongi also had left something unsaid but didn’t pry. “Well, whoever they are, they are a very lucky person to be your soulmate.” He was smiling, but the expression on his face was one that Yoongi couldn’t quite read.

The song was an absolute hit. So much so, that Yoongi’s boss seemed incredibly surprised. If he had presented a song like this to his boss, he would have been told to make a ton of changes before it hit the masses. He’d be told it wasn’t good enough, not perfect enough.

However, this song blew up so much faster and stronger than any songs that Jimin released before, and even more than any other song yet produced by SUGA. The love for the track made Yoongi happy, not just because his song that he was really happy with and proud of was getting love, but also because of how much it made his boss question everything he knew.

Barely even a week after the song’s release, Yoongi received a call from the company Jimin worked under. At first, he assumed that maybe it was an effort to try to get more collaborations with him, maybe a short-term contract. But much to his surprise, they were offering for him to work with them permanently.

To say that he was floored would be an understatement.

Switching companies like that was not easy. Especially since Yoongi knew how hard his current company would try to hold onto him, knowing that they’d be losing one of their best and most popular producers. Even if he had somewhere else to go, there were clauses in the contracts that made it difficult for one to just move from company to company. By offering Yoongi the job there, they were also promising to spend the time and money to handle the technicalities in order to ensure his successful transfer.

Shellshocked from the unexpected phone call, Yoongi could only muster a promise that he’d consider the offer before the call ended. It took a few good minutes, but once he was able to gather the remnants of his brain together, he pressed the call button on Jimin’s contact.

“Hey, Yoongi!” the ever-so cheery singer answered. “What’s up?”

“Park Jimin, what did you do?” Yoongi asked, no venom to be found in his voice.

There was silence for a moment while Jimin seemed to think about the question. “What do you mean, what did I do?”

“I mean, why did I just get a call from your company offering to hire me?”

“Oh, that,” Jimin breathed out through a nervous laugh. “Well, I didn’t know they were going to actually call you, for the record. Although, I really am glad that they did. I mean, you really des-”

“Jimin.”

Jimin cleared his throat. “I just asked them if they liked you, and what it would look like if they signed you on as a producer for us. I guess they started thinking about it and decided they wanted to.”

“Why did you do that?”

“You know why. That place doesn’t treat you how they should. You could have so much more freedom here, Yoongi.” After a few moments of silence, Jimin added, “Plus, I really enjoyed working with you. I was kind of hoping that we might be able to write some more songs together in the future.” Another silence. “You’re not mad, are you?” Jimin asked in a small voice.

“No, I’m not mad,” Yoongi replied. “I’m just shocked, is all.”

“Do you know how you’re going to respond?”

Yoongi sighed into the phone. “I’m not sure. I’d have to talk with them and figure out what working there would mean, make sure it’s worth the effort battling my current company to let me leave.”

“Well, let me know when you decide?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It didn’t take long for Yoongi to decide. After asking for more information on the offer, there was no way he would refuse the deal. Not only would he have proper rights to his music—still shared of course, but actually a reasonable percentage compared to what he was currently getting—but he’d also get a higher percentage of royalties. Like Jimin had mentioned, he would get his own studio that he was allowed to decorate and even refurbish, within reason of course. All of that, on top of the experience he’d already had with them not forcing him to change his songs entirely, made the choice a no-brainer.

Apparently, they were already prepared for him to say yes to the offer, quickly going in to get his contract with the current company terminated as swiftly and easily as possible. There was of course still pushback, but it could have been much more difficult if Yoongi’s original employer had been more prepared for it.

That still didn’t stop his boss—ex-boss, rather—from repeatedly asking Yoongi to stay, trying to convince him that he’d give him a better deal. Out of curiosity, Yoongi had humored the idea just to see what he’d come up with. But when the man showed him the new contract he had written up, Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh at it. It wasn’t even close to being as good as what Jimin’s company had offered, and he certainly wasn’t going to be hanging around there either way.

The day the transfer was official, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel excited to go to work for the first time in a long time, other than the days when he got to work on Jimin’s song at least. He already had everything prepared to put into his new studio, equipment he already knew they wouldn’t have there that he preferred, and just a few simple things to start making the space his own.

His spent the first hour or so of the day arranging everything the way he wanted, placing equipment where he could work efficiently, and finding places the his small trinkets he wanted to try decorating with. Afterwards, he texted Jimin to see if he was at the office, wanting to show him his studio. Yeah, it wasn’t really much quite yet, but it was his own space. And he knew Jimin was going to be just as excited as he felt.

Jimin’s quick reply let Yoongi know that he was currently in one of the dance practice rooms, and he insisted Yoongi stopped by.

After taking the elevator one floor down, he could hear laughter coming from the room where he knew Jimin to be. Jimin’s recognizable tinkling laughter was accompanied by an airy, deeper one. It was only one short moment later when he felt a pull on his hand. Furrowing his eyebrows, he glanced down to see that once again, the string attached to his ring finger extended farther and was clearly reaching out to the other end.

Sight following the line, Yoongi’s heart raced when he realized it led into the room where Jimin’s laughter could be heard. Without thinking, his footsteps became more rushed as he neared the door, quickly pushing it open and looking for its occupants.

“Yoongi!” Jimin greeted just as Yoongi’s eyes found them. Sure enough, sitting next to him was the dark-haired man that Yoongi had met in the store that day—his soulmate. “Come meet my best friend!”

Yoongi tried to not let the storm going on inside his head to show in his expression as he approached the two.

“This is Kim Taehyung,” Jimin introduced the mystery man. “Tae, this is Yoongi. Better known as SUGA.”

“Ah, Jimin has been talking a lot about you,” the other man, Taehyung said, no hint of embarrassment or apology for their last encounter in his tone. His voice was deep and rich and sent an involuntary shiver down Yoongi’s spine. “It’s nice to meet you.” A hand, the hand which their string attached to, reached out toward Yoongi.

Hesitantly, Yoongi grabbed it, gently shaking it once. “Nice to meet you too, Taehyung.”

Jimin was incredibly persistent, and it was a problem. Because that meant that it was impossible to ignore Jimin's pleads for Yoongi to go out to a bar with not only him, but Taehyung as well. He said something about wanting two of his favorite people to get along, or something along those lines.

So there he was, sitting in a booth next to Taehyung—under Jimin's insistence again—and feeling stupidly nervous about being in such close proximity to his soulmate. While Taehyung hadn't made any active effort to speak with Yoongi outside of the social obligation to generally not be rude, or to please Jimin when he encouraged the two to interact more, he wasn't acting like anything had ever happened between the two of them before.

This was the same man who walked out of the store to get away from Yoongi. Who saw they were connected by this string and still felt the need to completely ignore him. But he genuinely acted like this was the first time they met, and he most certainly seemed to be intentionally ignoring the fact that they were soulmates.

"Everything okay, Yoongi?" Jimin asked when he hadn’t spoken for a while.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm okay," Yoongi said. "Why?"

"You just, have that look," Jimin answered. “Like you’re deep in thought about something.”

Yoongi’s not sure if he imagined seeing Taehyung glance at him from the corner of his eye. “Ah, sorry. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

A slightly worried look sat on Jimin’s face, obviously unconvinced. However, he seemed to think it best to move on, a smile soon lighting up his features. “So, you haven’t told me how your old boss took your transfer to our company.”

With a light laugh, Yoongi’s face loosened up as well. “It was funny. He tried telling me that he’d offer me a better contract if I was unhappy with the one he had given me. But it was still terrible, definitely not as good as what they offered me. He was trying so desperately to keep me.”

“Yeah, they’re no doubt going to lose money without you,” Jimin said. “Their loss. If they wanted to keep you, they should have treated you better. Your songs are amazing. Right, Tae? We’re always listening to songs you’ve written.”

Yoongi glanced between the two, trying not to linger too long on Taehyung’s undeniably gorgeous face. “Really?”

It was Taehyung who nodded. “Yeah, your music is really great. Some of my favorite songs were written by you.” Yoongi tried to hold in his surprise when Taehyung turned to him and gave him what seemed to be a shy smile.

His heart still felt like it skipped a beat, though.

“Thank you,” Yoongi answered, a small smile of his own returning Taehyung’s before taking a sip of his drink.

“Although, I still have to say that your new song is by far your best,” Jimin said smugly.

Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You’re biased.”

“Am I wrong though?” Jimin challenged.

Taehyung was quiet for a moment before he ultimately just shrugged.

A short, not so uncomfortable silence sat between the three. Yoongi still couldn’t forget that first encounter he had with Taehyung, and was trying his best to not look at his left hand. However, it was slowly getting more comfortable with him thanks to Jimin. He made a mental note for himself to definitely try to talk to Taehyung later about what happened that day.

“So, how did you two meet?” Yoongi decided to ask to keep conversation going.

“I transferred to a new school when I was… what? Twelve?” Taehyung started. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Jimin was the first friend I made there.”

Jimin nodded. “And we’ve been inseparable ever since. He’s my soulmate.”

Yoongi’s brow furrowed in confusion, glancing subtly at his string, which most certainly was connecting to the man sitting beside him.

“Not literal soulmate,” Taehyung nonchalantly clarified. “We call each other that because we were basically just destined to be best friends.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jimin laughed. “I’ve definitely caused a few misunderstandings with that one. I sometimes forget other people still have soulmates.”

Now Yoongi was even more confused. “Still?”

Recognizing what he said, Jimin’s eyes widened before he put a smile on his face, looking somewhat forced. “Oops. I’ll tell you some other time. Don’t want to sour the mood. Anyway, when Taehyung was scouted by our company I was so excited that we’d be able to work close together. It was like a dream come true.”

“You’re signed under the company, too?” Yoongi asked the dark-haired man next to him.

Taehyung nodded. “Yeah. I know I’m not like super famous, but most people recognize me. You don’t?”

Unsure if he should feel embarrassed about the fact that he had no idea what Taehyung was talking about, Yoongi didn’t say anything as he looked between the other two.

“Oh, really?” Jimin finally said, giving Yoongi some relief. “I didn’t realize you didn’t know, sorry. Tae is a model.”

The mentioned man already had a picture pulled up on his phone to show Yoongi. It was obviously from a photoshoot, the image expertly taken to show off all the perfect angles of Taehyung’s face. Now it made sense why he felt like he had recognized him when they first ran into each other. Thinking about it, it wasn’t so surprising. The man really was strikingly handsome.

“Oh, that- that actually makes a lot of sense,” Yoongi said before he could stop himself.

“I know, right?” Jimin cheered from across the table. “It’s like he was made to be a model. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Don’t you think so, Yoongi?”

Yoongi spluttered for a moment, caught off guard by the question being directed toward him. As he felt heat rise to his cheeks, he settled on nodding in agreement. He couldn’t help but think about how that meant he’d probably end up running into Taehyung a lot, then. There was a high chance they’d see each other frequently at the company, and even outside of it if Jimin kept insisting on having them hang out together. Maybe it was a chance to get to know each other, maybe Taehyung could warm up to him and consider giving him a shot.

It was interesting to see a contrast between the two best friends in their drinking behavior. An hour later, Jimin was most certainly well past the point of tipsy, while Taehyung was still sipping on water. Yoongi himself had a few beers, but not anywhere enough to get more than a light buzz.

“Not much of a drinker?” Yoongi tried to make light small talk with Taehyung when Jimin left to go to the bathroom, not for the first time that night.

“Nah,” Taehyung said. “Don’t really like the taste at all. I can tolerate some wine, but that’s about it. Jimin loves it though. Obviously,” he chuckled.

Yoongi just nodded, taking another small sip from his cup.

“Did you say anything to him about this?” Taehyung asked, lifting up his left hand where the red string hang from to connect to Yoongi’s.

“No,” Yoongi replied honestly. “I had mentioned that I ran into my soulmate, but I didn’t know who you were at the time, and I didn’t tell him anything else. Just that we ran into each other once. Did you?”

Taehyung shook his head. “We don’t talk about things like soulmates. Not a great topic for us.” He took in a deep breath. “I want to apologize for that day, though.”

Yoongi’s head snapped to look at him, surprised at the sudden apology.

“I’ve never had much interest in the whole soulmate thing,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t rude. I had had a pretty bad day, not that it excuses my behavior. I just didn’t think. I’m sure you have questions, since I know most people care about this string. I’m not comfortable sharing my life story with you yet or anything like that. But you seem like a nice guy, and Jimin wants us to be friends. I wanted to clear that up so that we can try to be friends. If you wanted.”

“Yes,” Yoongi responded, quickly feeling embarrassed of how fast he did. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’d like to be friends. And thank you for that apology.”

The two shared a smile, but didn’t get to say anything else when Jimin came fumbling back to the table and started animatedly talking about some girl that he was sure had been checking him out.

Maybe Taehyung wouldn’t end up being so bad afterall.

This was not going as well as Yoongi had hoped.

It wasn’t that he and Taehyung weren’t getting along well. In fact, they were getting along perfectly fine. Most of the time when Jimin asked Yoongi to hang out, or when one of them would visit the other at the company, Taehyung was there. The more time Yoongi spent with Taehyung, the more he liked the man.

Half of the time, Yoongi would even forget about the fact this handsome, charming, warm-hearted person was his soulmate. He’d just be hanging out with Taehyung. Yoongi felt as though he had been doomed from their first conversation. That as soon as things were friendly between the two of them, it became inevitable for him to be sucked in deeper and deeper, for him to slowly fall for the man.

Okay, maybe not that slowly. It had only been about a month or so, but Yoongi could already tell he was in too deep with no way out. Hence why things were not going well.

Taehyung made no indication to having any interest in Yoongi other than just being friends. He was hands down a great friend and there was nothing wrong with that. But when Yoongi could feel himself longing for Taehyung more and more each day as he saw the string connecting them slowly become duller, things were obviously not okay.

The thing with soulmates was that they weren’t set in stone. No one quite knew how people ended up tied together by some intangible string that only you and your soulmate could see.  There were many theories, mostly spiritual, on the topic but no one had figured it out for sure. However, there was a substantial amount of research put into the topic to decipher as much as humans could about them. One thing that was clear was how the string read emotions. Just because you had become tied to someone didn’t mean you always would be. If there was emotional distance, betrayed trust, or anything else that would drive a couple apart emotionally, the string would reflect that by disappearing. Sometimes slowly, sometimes as fast as a snap of the fingers, depending on each situation.

Every day that Yoongi’s feelings grew stronger for Taehyung, the string faded a little more, becoming more and more transparent. Which meant that while Yoongi had the emotions and felt the connection with him, Taehyung didn’t. Even though Yoongi didn’t know Taehyung’s story of why he didn’t care about soulmates, one thing was made very obvious to him—that Taehyung valued honest, emotional connections more than anything. Yoongi had hoped that as they became closer, maybe Taehyung would start to warm up to him and want to give him a genuine chance, soulmate or not.

Yoongi was, as always, stupidly hopeful.

It was a night where Jimin visited Yoongi at his studio, now much more decorated to reflect his likes and personality when the topic of soulmates was brought up once again.

“You’re staring at your string, aren’t you?” Jimin asked quietly after he had just been gushing his growing crush on his choreographer, which Yoongi had only been paying half of his attention to.

Yoongi looked up from where he had indeed been staring at his left ring finger, apologetically smiling at Jimin. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

The younger remained quiet for a moment before asking, “Have you met them again? Your soulmate.”

Heart clenching, Yoongi nodded. “Yeah, we’ve met properly.”

Another silence sat while Jimin examined Yoongi’s face. He was annoyingly becoming rather good at reading his poker face. “It’s not going well, I take it?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Debatable. It’s going fine, I guess. Just- not where I wish it was going.”

Jimin nodded, taking a moment to stare at his own finger where his string would have been. “It’s been a long time since I had my string,” he said quietly.

It was Yoongi’s turn to examine Jimin’s face, finding a wistful expression as he sighed.

“I met her in high school,” Jimin said, lifting his gaze to Yoongi to check if he seemed okay with the subject change. When Yoongi nodded in encouragement, Jimin continued. “Like the stupid kid I was, I put blind faith into the fact that some red string told us we were supposed to be together. It was fine at first, she was sweet and we had a good time together. I don’t know now if I was legitimately in love with her, or if I just felt like I was supposed to be. But either way, it still hurt more than I could have imagined when I found out she was cheating on me.”

Yoongi’s heart clenched in empathy for Jimin but didn’t have anything he could say. He could understand exactly how that must have felt for young Jimin, having had his fair share of people using and hurting him, but this conversation wasn’t about him.

“You’re forgetting to mention about how she started treating you like shit even before that,” an unmistakable, deep voice came from the entrance to the studio. Taehyung fully entered the room, sitting next to Jimin on the couch and pulling him into his side. “She would insult him in front of friends, convince him to do ridiculous things for her all the time, just generally treated him like he was lower than her and should be lucky she was with him.”

“She wasn’t that bad,” Jimin quietly defended.

“Yes, she was,” Taehyung insisted. “She broke you down and tore you apart before she even decided to cheat on you with that sleazebag. You said your string was already gone by that time.”

Jimin relented, sighing as he lay his head on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’m just lucky I had Taetae. I don’t know what I would have done without him holding me up.”

Yoongi observed the two of them, Jimin still looking sad as he relived the memories in his mind and Taehyung holding onto him, almost protectively with a hard look on his face. It started to become more clear to Yoongi as to why Taehyung might not care about soulmate connections.

“Some people are assholes,” Yoongi settled on saying. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, Jimin.”

Jimin lifted his head, offering Yoongi a smile that brightened his expression a bit. “It was years ago, I’m okay now. And it doesn’t mean I can’t find someone. Same with you. If things don’t end up working between you and your soulmate, you know that doesn’t mean that you won’t find someone for you, right?”

Yoongi tensed up, trying his best not to look at Taehyung at the mention of his soulmate. Instead, he stared at his left hand, the string extending past his vision toward Taehyung as usual. “Thanks, Jimin,” he answered, not wanting to say anything else.

“Anyway, we’re all here now,” Jimin said. “So let’s go!”

“Go?” Yoongi asked. “Go where?”

“It’s the weekend, Tae and I don’t have any schedules tomorrow, and you have been slaving away at that computer all week,” Jimin said, as if that answered the question.

Taehyung chuckled when Yoongi just stared blankly at the singer for a long moment. “He means we’re going out. To a bar or club, or whatever he feels like doing.”

“Why am I included in this?” Yoongi grumbled.

“Because I said so,” Jimin answered. “You need to get out more.”

“I’m good with my music and dark rooms, thanks,” Yoongi insisted.

“I don’t know why you bother fighting this every time,” Taehyung said with a smile on his face. “You know he’s always going to win. Just gotta learn to go along with it.”

“Yes, precisely,” Jimin said, grabbing Yoongi’s arm to pull him out of his chair. “Now come on. Let’s go!”

Jimin was feeling up for a club today, apparently. Yoongi was most definitely not dressed appropriately for one, not that he had anything in his closet that would be, but Jimin and Taehyung were by far well-dressed and good-looking enough to get all three of them in.

It still surprised Yoongi that whenever they’d go out, no one really paid much attention to Jimin and Taehyung. They were both well-known and steadily getting more popular every day, yet they were left alone and unbothered when they were so out in the open. Yoongi couldn’t figure out how they did it, but he assumed that it might have had something to do with the fact that every place Jimin picked out looked higher-end than the bars Namjoon would drag him out to.

The three had barely ordered their first drinks before the first woman approached them. Yoongi paid no attention, subtly turning away from her to stay out of it. Every time this happened, they always had their eyes set on either Jimin or Taehyung—and they weren’t exactly Yoongi’s type anyway. And if it were Taehyung she had her eyes set on, it was better for him to not watch.

To his complete surprise, he felt a tap on his shoulder just a moment later. “Excuse me,” a light voice said.

Yoongi carefully turned back to face the woman, trying his best to keep his face as emotionless as usual despite how shocked he was feeling. “Yes? Do you- can I help you?”

From behind her, he could see Jimin and Taehyung both watching the interaction with rapt attention, amusement on their faces.

“I was about to dance, but I don’t want to go alone,” she pouted. “Would you come with me?” Objectively, this woman was rather beautiful. She was clearly skilled with her makeup, accentuating the soft angles of her face really well. The bold purple dress she wore was club appropriate, showing off a fair amount of skin, but also had a more classy look to it to make her stand out among the other girls in the crowd and it hugged the shape of her body really well.

“Sorry,” Yoongi replied, “I don’t really dance. My friends dragged me here.” He nodded in the direction of the two, certainly much more handsome men behind her in hopes she’d maybe pay them some attention instead.

She looked disappointed, but didn’t push, seeming to sense a rejection when she heard one. “Alright. Well, if you change your mind, feel free to find me.” Her gaze very obviously dragged up and down his body before walking away with a very intentional sway of her hips. If Yoongi were interested in women, he was sure his gaze would linger on the action, but instead he just turned to look at his still amused friends.

“You’re not going to get anyone interested in you that way,” Jimin teased.

“I don’t want anyone interested in me,” he rebutted quickly, being extra mindful to not glance at Taehyung. “I’m not even dressed well, either. Don’t know why she decided to hit on me.”

“Have you ever looked in a mirror?” Jimin asked. “You don’t need the right clothes when your face is that gorgeous.”

“She was pretty hot, though,” Taehyung said, not-so-discretely looking in the direction she had left in. “Wouldn’t have hurt to indulge her a bit.”

Yoongi shrugged. “Not my type.”

There was a time Yoongi would have been cautious about saying anything that could have even subtly hinted at who exactly his ‘type’ was. But after a while he realized that if someone were to judge or dislike him for it, then they didn’t deserve his trust anyway. He didn’t know what Jimin’s stance was and assumed that Taehyung probably at least didn’t have an issue with it since he never appeared repulsed by the fact they were soulmates, despite also not seeming to care much about it. He figured if they were going to figure out what he meant by that, this couldn’t have been the worst time for them to.

Jimin certainly seemed to be in thought after that, carefully scanning the crowd until he apparently found someone of interest. “What about him, then?” he asked completely nonchalantly, bringing Yoongi’s attention to a very handsome man.

From this distance with the dark lights, he couldn’t trust that he was seeing everything fully accurately. However what Yoongi did see was someone whose looks almost seemed to rival Jimin and Taehyung’s. A sharp jaw line, swept back brown hair and soft eyes, and he most certainly seemed to know what he was doing on the dance floor.

After taking the moment to appraise him, Yoongi gave a slight nod. “He’s definitely really attractive, at least from here.” He took a sip from his beer as he waited for one of them to say something more. When they remained quiet for a moment, he decided to ask, “It doesn’t bother you?”

Jimin smiled, shaking his head. “Of course not. I’d be lying if I said that he wasn’t my type as well. My choreographer is a guy, too. What do you think, Tae? He’s a cutie, wouldn’t you say?”

Taehyung’s gaze narrowed as he assessed the stranger. “Yeah, he’s definitely cute. Looks pretty young, though. You know I like it when they’re older, especially men.”

Jimin’s head threw back with laughter. “That’s true.”

Yoongi tried not to be too obvious about how relieved he was to find that out, hiding his smile behind the cup when he took another sip.

Ten minutes later found Jimin on the dance floor, a few shots in already, dancing with the man he picked out earlier while Yoongi and Taehyung hung back at the bar. During the few times that Yoongi had gone out like this with them, it wasn’t a common thing for Jimin or Taehyung to indulge someone else for very long. He’d seen Jimin dance with women on an occasion or two, and Taehyung would have short chats with people who were interested in him. Although that was the first time he saw either of them approach someone themselves. He wondered briefly if this might be the first night they might not all leave together.

“Don’t want anyone to be interested in you, huh?” Taehyung asked after long moments of a comfortable lull in conversation, filled only with the sounds of the club.

“Nope,” Yoongi replied, pulling his eyes away from where Jimin was dancing incredibly close to the stranger. “In places like this, people are usually just looking for a hook-up. I’m not really a hook-up kind of guy.”

Taehyung nodded. “Same,” he said, swirling his glass sitting on the bar. “Although, I find it fun to indulge. Chat a bit, see what they’re like. But if they seem to only be interested in who’s house we’re going to after, that’s the end of that for me.”

“What about Jimin? It kind of looks like he’s interested in not going home alone tonight.”

Shaking his head, Taehyung’s mouth turned down into a stupidly cute pout. “Nah, he’s too much of a romantic. He’s probably going to go home with the guy’s number, though. Jimin has a weird habit of making friends with the people he flirts with. Why? Are you jealous?”

“No, not jealous,” Yoongi replied easily. There may have been a time where he wondered if he could have had a thing with Jimin, but he was far too gone for Taehyung to even remotely consider that now. “Just don’t want him to get hurt.”

“You and me both. But he’s smarter, now. I don’t think he’d let another Miyoung into his life.”

Yoongi assumed that was the name of the ex-soulmate they talked about earlier. There was another pause in the conversation, this time heavy from the thoughtful expression Taehyung wore.

“It happens too often, you know. Not even just with teenagers. People in any stage of their life blindly trust this thing.” He was clearly looking at where their string attached itself to his left ring finger. “They assume that the person on the other end is going to be loving and compassionate, and there’s no way they wouldn’t work out. It’s so stupid.”

That felt like a stab to Yoongi’s chest. “Maybe some people just don’t have anyone else who can love them.”

“I’m sorry, that sounded harsh,” Taehyung backtracked. “I didn’t mean that about you, it’s just a general observation. Everyone in this world has a string connected to them at some point. But not everyone in the world is a good person. People who are assholes, abusers, criminals, killers, they all have a soulmate. But so many people assume that the person they’re attached to is just going to be amazing when it’s actually not often the case. Did you know there are some really interesting statistics around divorce rates?”

“Oh?” Yoongi asked, genuinely interested. He had never thought about that before, but Taehyung was really making a lot of sense so far and he was curious of what he had to say.

“Among divorcees if you divide the couples into who were soulmates when they met and who weren’t, there’s a much higher percentage of soulmate couples. It was somewhere around 70% soulmates last time I looked. It makes sense in one way because that’s also the majority of people who end up getting married. But when you hear their stories, almost all of them are the same. It’s some version of how they put faith into the string and rushed their relationship without properly developing a connection, and then they found out too late that they weren’t actually compatible. Or worse, that one of them was abusive in some way, overly possessive, or anything else from a list of red flags you’d usually find out during a relationship where you would have gotten to know them properly without a silly string telling you they were ‘the one.’ Non-soulmate couples who have talked about their stories tend to boil it down to other things, like growing apart over time, their partner cheating or becoming a ‘different person’ than they used to be. Rarely anything about rushing into something blindly.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Yoongi said after waiting a moment to make sure Taehyung was done explaining. “I realized earlier that what happened with Jimin might have had something to do with our first meeting.”

Taehyung cringed. “Yeah, I’m still sorry about that. But yes, he’s one reason. He’s not the only person I care about who’s been burned by their soulmate though.” He stared into his drink, a distant look in his eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, Yoongi caught sight of Jimin walking back to them with the mystery guy he had been dancing with being dragged behind him.

“Guys, say hi to Jungkook!” Jimin excitedly said as he approached.

It was almost scary how abruptly Taehyung’s expression changed as he turned to his best friend in amusement. “I was just telling Yoongi that you have a habit of making friends by flirting with them. Nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m Taehyung.”

“I mean that turned out amazing for us, didn’t it?” Jimin said through a laugh.

Jungkook turned out to be a really sweet guy, and the four of them spent the rest of their night just chatting at the bar. Well, mostly Jimin and Taehyung were the ones chatting. Jungkook seemed to be more reserved like Yoongi, so the two mostly just responded when asked a question or being dragged into the current topic.

“You know,” Jimin slurred when he had already gotten well past the point of being drunk, a wobbly finger pointing at Yoongi, “that soulmate of yours must be really dumb.”

Yoongi quickly glanced at Taehyung to see him looking uncomfortable. Tensing up, Yoongi cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, I would,” Jimin insisted. “Whoever he is, he should be thankful that he gets to be your soulmate. You are amazing.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi sighed. “Maybe he has his reasons.”

“But it’s not fair.” The pout was obvious in his voice despite Yoongi not being able to see it due to the man now draping himself over Yoongi’s back. “You said you weren’t happy with how things were going between you two. I don’t like that he’s making you upset.”

Yoongi closed his eyes as he took a steadying breath, not wanting to see Taehyung’s reaction. He already knew the model wasn’t interested and didn’t want to feel that sting of rejection right now. “We should get you home,” Yoongi said to change the subject. “You’re really drunk.”

“I’ll pull the car around,” Taehyung said, seeming really eager to walk away.

Jimin continued to whine, sniffles interrupting here and there while he kept saying how it wasn’t fair and he wanted Yoongi to be happy. While Yoongi’s heart clenched with appreciation for his friend’s concern, he didn’t want to feed into the conversation again.

Hurried knocks on Yoongi’s studio door cut through the track that Yoongi was currently editing. Finding a spot he felt comfortable to stop at, he answered the door to a very smiling and excited Jimin throwing his arms around him.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it, Yoongi!” the now pink-haired singer yelled a little too loud for being right next to Yoongi’s ear.

“Can’t believe what, Jimin?” Yoongi asked as he gently pushed the man back a bit.

Jimin raised his left hand in between them as if that would answer Yoongi’s question. “I have a new soulmate!”

Well, that was unexpected. Confused and surprised, Yoongi tilted his head as he tried to figure that one out. “What do you mean you have a new soulmate? That’s possible?”

“Yeah! It was something I looked into years ago when I was upset about losing mine,” Jimin elaborated. “It’s actually more common than you’d expect. Soulmates drifting apart or separating, whatever causes the string to disappear. But it’s possible to find a new one later. I always hoped it would happen to me but I had no idea how it would. Like, would it happen when I met them, or if I started feeling something for someone?”

“So how did your string appear?” Yoongi asked through his amazement of the new information.

A blush settled on Jimin’s cheeks, looking suddenly shy as he said, “We kissed.”

Jimin was certainly full of surprises today. “Oh, well that’s… good, I guess. Who is it?”

“Hoseok,” Jimin said with a smile. “My choreographer that I’ve been gushing to you about lately. We’ve been getting closer and, I don’t know. It just- it felt right. And we kissed, then the string appeared and connected us. He’s so great, Yoongi. He’s so funny and nice and, I just- I feel so happy.”

“That’s really great, Jimin,” Yoongi genuinely said, a smile sitting on his face. “I’m really happy for you.”

Sighing, Jimin relaxed into the couch in Yoongi’s studio just as another knock, much more calm this time, sounded on the door. Yoongi opened it once more, letting in a confused Taehyung.

Nothing had changed between Yoongi and Taehyung after that night at the club even after another few weeks had passed. They still talked and hung out, usually with Jimin and oftentimes Jungkook as well now. They both seemed to silently agree to act like Jimin’s drunken outburst had never happened, while Yoongi’s heart continued to break every time he saw the string fade more and more. It was almost gone now, hardly visible. It probably wouldn’t make it through the week.

“Is everything alright with Jimin?” Taehyung asked as he stepped in. “He just texted me to come meet him here and that it was a red alert?” He turned to the singer in question, starting to examine him over as if looking for injuries.

Which queued Jimin filling him in on his new soulmate. Taehyung’s eyes widened in shock, but seemed just as happy and excited as Jimin was. Yoongi couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in his chest, staring wistfully at his own string.

“It’s been a few weeks since we’ve talked about the soulmate thing,” Jimin said to Yoongi after they both calmed down. “I want to ask, but I don’t kn-”

“Same as it was last we talked,” Yoongi interrupted. “Nothing new to report.”

Jimin sighed. “I know I was drunk when I said it, but I’m serious that whoever this guy is dumb. It is a guy, right? I just assumed since you seemed interested and made it pretty clear you’re not into girls.”

Turning to his computer so he didn’t accidentally look at Taehyung, Yoongi steeled himself for not being able to dismiss the conversation this time. “Yeah, it’s a guy. And also, you should stop saying that. He has his reasons. And just because we’re soulmates doesn’t mean he needs to like me.”

“But he should!” Jimin insisted. “You’re really a catch, Yoongi. He’s really dumb for not wanting something with you. And he’s making you feel sad, I don’t like that.”

“Jimin, please drop it,” Yoongi said as gently as he could, pleading tone to his voice.

It was quiet for a moment before an, “It’s me,” sounded into the room.

Yoongi’s head snapped around to stare at Taehyung, surprised at the words he just muttered, while Jimin’s face morphed into confusion.

“What?” Jimin almost whispered. “What did you say?”

“Yoongi’s soulmate,” Taehyung elaborated, pausing to take a deep breath. “It’s me.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, looking back and forth between the two. “Seriously? You’ve been talking about Tae this whole time? Really?”

Looking at the nearly faded string that only one person in the room couldn’t see, Yoongi nodded. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you guys tell me?” Jimin asked, almost sounding offended. “I just- oh my god, I just said- Yoongi I’m so, so sorry. I just-”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi said. “I think he knew, anyway.”

After a moment of loaded silence, Jimin broke it again. “Alright, I take back what I said, then. Kim Taehyung, you-” Jimin hit him over the head with one of the throw pillows from the couch “-are undeniably, one hundred percent an absolute moron! You have a whole ass Min Yoongi that your soul is literally tied to and you’re not taking that opportunity? What the fuck!”

By this point, Yoongi’s neck should be sore from the amount of whiplash he’d experienced today.

Taehyung looked a little bit like a cornered animal, unsure of what to do. “Jimin, you know about how I feel about soulmates.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jimin said, still seeming exasperated at his best friend. “You don’t trust it, fine. I get it, I really do. But seriously? You guys have been getting along so well, and you’re telling me you haven’t felt like you wanted to date him at all? I know you, Kim Taehyung. I can tell when-”

“It never ends well,” Taehyung interrupted, remaining surprisingly calm.

“Just because both your dad and I got screwed over by our soulmates doesn’t mean everyone does, Taehyung,” Jimin said. “I get why you’re hesitant. And I think it’s really great that you’re getting to know each other instead of jumping into something too early, but seriously?” By this point, Yoongi just felt like a bystander even though the conversation was about something he was very much in the middle of. “How strong is the string?”

When Taehyung’s eyes shifted, settling on the floor without answering, Jimin finally turned back to Yoongi. “How strong is the string?” he repeated.

“It’s um-” Yoongi cleared his throat “-it’s pretty faded. Getting kind of hard to see.”

Jimin sympathetically smiled at Yoongi before turning back to Taehyung and smacking him with the pillow one more time. “I repeat. You are a moron. You guys are talking this out. Right now.”

“Jimin-” Taehyung started.

“Nope,” Jimin stopped him. “I am leaving the room and standing guard outside. And you are going to sit in here and talk your shit out.”

Standing up, Jimin stopped to give Yoongi a strong hug and then threw one last glare at his best friend before closing the door behind him.

While Yoongi tried to process the roller coaster Jimin just put him through, Taehyung leaned back into the couch, running a hand over his face as he sighed. “I don’t know what he expects us to talk about.”

The door opened once more, Jimin having known the password and just usually knocked to be polite, to say, “In case you’re having trouble figuring out where to start, your baggage is a great place to, Taehyung.” Then he firmly closed the door once again.

An awkward silence sat between the two for a moment while Yoongi did his best to look anywhere besides Taehyung or their string.

“You don’t have to,” Yoongi was the first to speak. “If you wanted to give us a shot the string wouldn’t be fading, so I already know your answer.”

“The most valuable lesson I learned from my parents,” Taehyung said, “was to never trust the soulmate string. They did, and my dad ended up so much worse because of it. He always tells me the only good thing he ever got from her was me.”

Yoongi’s mouth was firmly shut as Taehyung started pouring out what was probably his most personal story.

“They were soulmates,” he continued. “They trusted it, didn’t take their time and just rushed into a relationship like so many other people do. But my mom was a bitch, told me all the time I was a mistake and she didn’t even want me. She was so abusive in every way. Verbally, mentally, physically she abused us. Mostly my dad because he did what he could to keep her hands off of me. It wasn’t until I was twelve years old that my dad finally was able to get us away from her. The courts even tried forcing him to give me back to her, too. That’s a really weird thing about the court system, they tend to favor the mothers in these situations. But luckily my dad had taken pictures, and I guess I was barely old enough that they took my testimony against her somewhat seriously so in the end I got to stay safe, with Dad.”

Taehyung stood, walking closer to where Yoongi sat at his desk and sitting on the floor in front of him. “So needless to say, I kind of have a really bad opinion on soulmates. Between him and then Jimin, I just started to feel like they were pointless, that it was always going to be a bad idea to trust the string. I promised myself I’d never let the people who care about me see me go through what they had.”

“I understand,” Yoongi said. “I don’t think you should feel obligated to care about me just because we have this string. And you certainly don’t have to feel bad for me about it.”

“You, um,” Taehyung seemed nervous. “Jimin made it sound like that you are, uh, interested in dating me.”

Looking at the floor, Yoongi nodded. No point in trying to lie about that.

“Why?” Taehyung asked.

Yoongi turned back to him, confusion knitting his brows together. “What do you mean why?”

“Is it because of this?” Taehyung lifted his left hand, the string moving and bending with it as if it were an actual, tangible thing.

“No,” Yoongi didn’t hesitate to respond. “I can’t deny that I had been looking forward to meeting my soulmate. I- well, things have just always gone wrong for me, I guess. And I hoped that could change when I met my soulmate. But I usually forget about it when we hang out. I just enjoy spending time with you, as Kim Taehyung. Anything I’ve ever felt for you has nothing to do with us being soulmates.”

It was silent for a few moments while Taehyung seemed to be in thought. Yoongi turned to his computer, not really doing anything in particular, but just wanting to keep himself occupied to ease the anxious knot in his stomach.

Before either of them said anything else, Yoongi’s phone started vibrating on the desk. The manager of his apartment complex was calling, which was never a good sign. Sliding the green button on the screen, Yoongi tried to keep his voice from shaking as he answered.

“Hey Yoongi,” she greeted. “Sorry to bother you while you’re probably at work, but he’s here again. He’s just sitting outside of your door and won’t leave.”

Yoongi sighed, feeling bad for the poor woman. She was a really nice lady and didn’t deserve to deal with his father’s bullshit. After probably the fifth time the police were called to forcibly remove him, he had figured out that if he didn’t act violently and appeared innocent, they wouldn’t interfere. So now, the only way to get him to leave was for Yoongi to attempt to deal with him, and then call the cops if he did start to get violent. To be honest, he was lucky the woman refused to evict him over it.

“Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he replied. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “I’m sorry for needing to ask.”

“Not your fault, either. I’ll handle it, don’t worry.”

He hung up the phone as he got up to gather his things and leave.

“Yoongi?” Taehyung asked, almost nervously, from the floor.

“Sorry, Taehyung,” Yoongi said. “Something came up and I have to go home.” As he walked toward the door, a thought popped into his head. “I promise this doesn’t have anything to do with what we were just talking about. I just genuinely have something to take care of and it can’t wait.” He wasn’t looking forward to this, both him and the apartment manager knowing this was going to be one visit that would end with the cops dragging him out.

“Is everything okay?” Taehyung asked as he got up from the floor.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.”

When he opened the door, Yoongi was unsurprised to not see Jimin standing there like he said he would be. Knowing him, he probably stuck around just long enough to make sure they started talking before leaving, and probably to go hang out with his new soulmate.

He could feel Taehyung’s presence closely behind him as he walked down the hallway, finding it oddly comforting since he could tell the man seemed genuinely concerned. It was then that Yoongi remembered something important.

“Fuck,” Yoongi said as he stopped in his tracks. “I walked to work today. It’s not that far, but I don’t want to be too long and risk him causing a scene.” Yoongi turned around, and probably would have laughed at Taehyung’s surprised expression if it weren’t for the situation he was preparing to handle. “I’m really sorry to ask, but did you drive here? Do you have something you need to do soon?”

Taehyung gently shook his head no, but didn’t say anything. When Yoongi continued staring at him, he seemed to realize he needed to elaborate. “Oh. Yes, I drove here and no I don’t have anything else I need to do today.”

“Okay, again I’m sorry to ask but could I borrow your car?” Yoongi hesitantly asked. “Or drive me there and then you can leave. I just want to get home as quickly as possible.”

“I’ll drive you,” Taehyung said, and the two continued walking toward the elevator at a quickened pace. “Seriously, is everything okay?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Yoongi insisted. “I’ve had to handle this a ton of times before, and this time isn’t going to be any different.”

They spoke very little on the way there except for Yoongi to give Taehyung directions. His heart flipped in his chest to think about the fact that this was the first time Taehyung was seeing where he lived, but it wasn’t exactly something to be excited about at the moment. He’d see it and then drive away. And the next time Yoongi would see him, the string connecting them may very possibly be gone. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about that other than the fact that it scared him.

“Thank you so much,” Yoongi said as Taehyung pulled into the parking garage with ease. “You don’t need to wait for me. I can get back to work on my own.”

“I’ll wait,” Taehyung rushed out before Yoongi closed the door. “I want to talk to you when you get back, so I’ll wait. Should I come with you?”

“No, please don’t come with me. I’d rather not get you mixed up in this. I’ll be back soon. Hopefully,” Yoongi said before closing the car door and walking to the elevator which he could take directly to his floor with his ID. He tapped his foot anxiously as he waited for it to climb up and up, until the doors finally opened on the right floor and he did his best not to rush out. As much as he didn’t want his father inside his home, it was best to not get him agitated before then. Especially if he had been drinking.

Pretending to not have noticed the man leaning against the wall next his door, Yoongi made sure his father couldn’t see the numbers as he typed in his code and opened it. Without looking behind him, Yoongi left it open for him to follow before acknowledging his existence.

“Yoongi,” the man said, elongating the vowels. Definitely drunk.

“What do you want this time?” Yoongi asked, already annoyed. “More money?”

“What? A father isn’t allowed to come see his son?” The look on his face would have appeared as offence to anyone else, but Yoongi knew better.

“You never want to just see me for no reason,” Yoongi said. “What do you want?”

“Always straight to the point,” his father said, almost sounding like praise. But again, Yoongi knew better. “I need some help.”

Sighing, Yoongi turned into his kitchen. He hadn’t eaten lunch yet and was getting pretty hungry so he figured he might as well do something useful while he listened to his father’s excuses this time. “So you want money again.”

“I’m going to get kicked out of my house.”

“Good, maybe that’ll teach you to be more responsible with your money.”

“I’m your father, don’t talk to me like that.”

“Yes, you’re my father.” Yoongi dug around his fridge for some leftovers from last night. “My father who won’t get a job, spends all his money on alcohol and gambling, and then comes crawling back to his son for cash when he can’t afford to pay his bills or buy his groceries because he wasted all the money that his son had lent him the last time. The same money that is always given with the condition that it’s to be used only for your rent and groceries, but it never is.”

His father scoffed. “What good is it to have a son who makes a ton of money when he won’t take care of you?”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you treated your son like he was a worthless piece of shit. You reap what you sow, I guess.”

“You fucking-”

Yoongi placed his food on the counter and turned around in time to block the punch that was far too sluggish to be effective anyway. “You might want to add some new tricks to your bag, old man. You’re too predictable.” His father lowered his raised fist as Yoongi let his grip loose. “And I’m not giving you any more money. I told you last time that I wouldn’t be doing this again, and I intend on keeping that promise.”

“You don’t care that your father’s about to be homeless? When you’re living in this nice apartment in a nice neighborhood?”

“No, I don’t. You only care about me when I’m useful to you. Before, you used to think of me as just some piece of shit who wasn’t worth your time. Now, you only care that I have money and could support your alcoholic ass if I chose to. But guess what? I’m done. I told you a month ago that was going to be the last time and I meant it. Now fuck off.”

“I didn’t raise you to be a disrespectful piece of shit.”

Yoongi prepared for the next attempt to hit him, but to his surprise it didn’t come when they were both distracted by a very familiar voice calling from the entryway.

“Yoongi?” Taehyung’s deep timbre sounded into the house. “Yoongi, are you here? Is everything okay?”

“I told you to stay in the car,” Yoongi sighed when Taehyung made his way into the kitchen. “You shouldn’t be here. Please go back to the car. I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Who the fuck is this?” Yoongi’s father asked.

“Who the fuck are you?” Taehyung deflected back.

“I’m his father,” he replied before turning back to Yoongi. “Don’t tell me your gay little ass got yourself a boyfriend.”

“Excuse you?” Taehyung answered while Yoongi bit his tongue. “First of all, that’s apparently none of your business if that’s how you’re going to talk to him. Second, Yoongi, are you okay?” his voice became much softer as he asked, making Yoongi’s heart feel warm.

“I’m fine,” Yoongi replied. “No need to get yourself involved. I’ve got this under control. Now, if you would leave, Dad, we have nothing else to talk about here.”

“I need fucking money, Yoongi!”

“Yeah, I’ve gathered that.” Yoongi turned back to the counter to open his container of leftover food and pop it in the microwave as he spoke. “But you’re not getting it from me. How about you stop drinking and get yourself a job. Maybe then you’d have some money.”

“Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean it’s easy to get fucking money. You think it’s easy?”

Yoongi was more than done with him at this point. “I know it’s not easy. I grew up with you as my parent, remember? After mom died, you could hardly even keep a roof over our heads and I had to work low-paying shit jobs as soon as I could to help you before I got out of there and slowly worked my way to where I am. So yeah, I know it’s not. But I’ve given you so many chances, way more than you deserve, frankly. And I’m done. I don’t know how many times I need to tell you for you to understand.”

When Yoongi’s father knew he had nothing to say back, he resorted to his fists. When the first one extended it was Taehyung, who had been silently standing back and watching their argument, who moved forward to restrain him.

“Keep your filthy hands off of me!” Yoongi’s father struggled as Taehyung kept his arms locked behind him.

“That’s what Yoongi should be saying to you,” Taehyung rebutted as he dragged the man toward the entrance to the apartment. Yoongi followed, watching as his soulmate shoved the still yelling man over the threshold and quickly shut the door behind him, locking him out.

“Taehyung, what-”

“The woman downstairs said she would call the cops,” Taehyung spoke over the pounding and yelling from the other side of the door.

“How did you even know where my apartment was?” Yoongi asked, still trying to process what just happened.

“The way you phrased things made me worried,” Taehyung said as he walked further into the house. “So I got out of the car not long after you and asked the lady at the front desk about you. She seemed relieved that you had someone to help you, and then told me she’d go ahead and call the cops then if you were already up here talking to him. Obviously, I got even more worried so when she told me your room number I hurried up.”

“But how’d you get in?”

“The door was left open.”

Of course his father hadn’t closed the door. Sighing, Yoongi retreated back to the kitchen to get his food from the microwave which had been annoyingly beeping at him periodically to remind him that it was done. His hands started shaking as he placed the container back on the counter, residual adrenaline from the argument keeping his body over fueled.

After taking a breath to steady himself, Yoongi grabbed some chopsticks and took his dinner to the table to eat, Taehyung closely following. While he settled in to eating, he could hear the police filing into the hallway to collect his father and drag him away.

“Yoongi, if he ever comes back here again, please don’t face him alone,” Taehyung said as he pulled back a chair to sit in. “Call me next time.”

“I’ve handled him all my life, I can take care of it on my own.” Yoongi poked his food around as he spoke, not yet having taken a real bite of it.

“But you don’t have to.”

Looking up at him, Yoongi’s gaze met Taehyung’s. A silent moment sat between them, charged but not uncomfortable. “I guess it’s time for me to tell you my baggage, huh?” Yoongi asked.

“Only if you want, but you don’t have to,” Taehyung replied easily. “You could always tell me later.”

Yoongi chanced a glance toward the string, heart dropping when it was still just as faded as before, maybe even a little more. “It’ll be gone soon,” he whispered before shoveling the first bite of rice into his mouth. After he finished chewing, he sighed. “I feel like I need to talk about it now. I just- he gets me so angry. There’s only been one person I’ve ever been able to vent to about anything, and I just really want to get it all out right now.”

Nodding, Taehyung said, “Okay. If you want to, then go ahead. I’m here, I’m listening.” The sincere look in his eyes could have fooled Yoongi.

“My mom was really nice, at least from what I remember. I think she was the only thing that kept my dad held together. But she got sick when I was still young, so then it was just me and my dad. He had a hard time keeping a steady job, would start going to drink and just didn’t pay much attention to me. He didn’t hit me or anything back then, but he just didn’t seem to care much. And then, when I realized that I was gay, he became disgusted with me. Told me how wrong it was, how much of an abomination I was, use slurs with me. That was around when he started becoming violent, too. Was always a bad hit, though.”

“Asshole,” Taehyung muttered under his breath.

That got a chuckle out of Yoongi. “Yeah, basically. I tried to find other people who would accept me. I didn’t think anything was wrong with me, despite what he said. I had heard about same-sex couples who were soulmates not being very uncommon, how it is a really old idea from back when soulmates were completely ignored that it was somehow unnatural and wrong. And even before I started making a bunch of money, he’d always expect me to support him. I had to try to make enough to support myself, and him at the same time because he never got his act together. It’s always been like that.”

Taehyung shifted in his seat, seeming to have something to say but was too nervous to. When Yoongi looked at him and nodded once in encouragement, he gently spoke. “You mentioned earlier that you were unhappy and hoped meeting your soulmate would change that. Is it because of him?”

“He was the first reason. It became a pattern in my life for people to just not care or hurt me. My best friend, Namjoon, he’s always trying to tell me that I deserve to be loved. But everyone has always made me feel like I can’t have it. My father was just the first one to show me that.”

“You do, though,” Taehyung said. “Deserve love, I mean. You really do.”

Trying his hardest to ignore the painful clench of his heart in the irony of Taehyung being the one to say that, Yoongi pushed his food away and set down his chopsticks, no longer feeling hungry.

“Do you want to talk about the others?” Taehyung carefully asked.

Nodding, Yoongi took in a breath to brace himself to continue. “So the first person I told about my sexuality was my closest friend at the time. He didn’t take it well, either. He was always really nice, but then suddenly he became cold and didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. It only got worse after that. When I went to college, I had a crush on this one guy who knew about it but all I was good to him for was to be used to get off, and eventually he got tired of me. Anyone who ever acted interested in me in some way, it was never for me. No one ever cared about me, just that I was a guy they knew was gay and could be used for their closeted asses.”

“That’s why you were hoping your soulmate would be different.” It wasn’t a question that Taehyung muttered, barely above a whisper. “But when we met I just walked away without even talking to you, just like another one of those jerks. Didn’t even give you a chance.”

Yoongi said nothing, just stared at their string that was still hardly there at all. He was so shocked when Taehyung’s hand covered his that he almost pulled his own away.

“Jimin’s right,” were the next words out of Taehyung’s mouth. “I’m a moron. My whole issue about soulmates is that people don’t take the time to properly get to know someone and run so far ahead without even thinking. But we’re friends, we’ve been getting to know each other for quite a while now. And instead of thinking that means it’s okay to give us a chance, I’ve been stuck in this mindset of thinking that I can’t follow the string. That it’s somehow inevitably going to lead me to pain. Even though I-”

Heart pounding, Yoongi’s eyes searched Taehyung’s face in hopes of seeing what he was about to say.

“Just the thought that this string connecting us is going to disappear forever because I’m being such an indecisive, baggage-carrying ass, it absolutely terrifies me. I don’t want it to disappear. I used to hate it, I thought it wouldn’t do anything but cause me problems. But, Yoongi-” Taehyung’s eyes finally connected with Yoongi’s “-I feel like it was impossible for me to not fall for you. I’ve just been ignoring it because I’ve been scared and- fuck, I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense to me now that I’ve actually thought about it. I just feel like an idiot for fighting it all this time now.”

Surely Taehyung had to be able to hear how fast Yoongi’s heart was pounding in his chest. Was he being honest? It would still make sense as to why the string kept fading, but if he was being honest about it now, the string should be becoming brighter, shouldn’t it? Looking at it again, he could see that it wasn’t. Was the damage that’s been done to it permanent?

“I understand if it’s too late, though,” Taehyung said, nearly breaking Yoongi’s heart in half. “Even if we’ve been good friends up until now, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve let you get strung along while I didn’t know what to do with myself. Oh wow, that was a pun right there. That wasn’t even intentional. But whatever, I just mean-”

“Taehyung,” Yoongi interrupted. Blinking back at him, Taehyung stayed quiet while he waited for Yoongi to continue. “If you really mean all of that, then you have a lot of making up to do.”

“Do you mean…”

“The most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, the same man that I have been falling for so hard and so fast ever since the first time we spoke to each other, just told me that he’s been falling for me too. How am I supposed to reject that?”

Taehyung’s chest rose up and down with how hard he was breathing. “Maybe- maybe we should think about this. It’s been an emotional day and we should take a moment. I don’t want you to do anything you’d regret because you’re not able to think properly-”

“I’m a grown man who can make his own decisions and have been practically praying for this day to happen. Kim Taehyung, if you meant everything you just told me, then you better come over here and kiss me within the next five seconds or so help me, I-”

It was Taehyung’s turn to cut Yoongi off, but by joining their lips together. One of his beautiful, large hands rested on the back of Yoongi’s head, making him tilt it just a little to make the kiss easier from the awkward angle. Yoongi felt like his heart was soaring as he eagerly returned the kiss, pressing back into Taehyung’s soft lips. He could swear he felt something tingling on his left ring finger, but was absolutely not breaking the kiss to take a look.

Gripping onto Taehyung’s shirt, Yoongi stood up carefully enough to make sure their lips stayed connected. Wanting to deepen the kiss, he parted his lips just enough to give Taehyung the invitation to do so. He was rewarded with a delightful groan as Taehyung’s tongue tangled with his own. It was only their first kiss, no time yet to learn how to navigate each other and what each of them liked, but it was by far the best thing Yoongi had ever experienced in his life. It was almost as if he could feel Taehyung pouring his emotions into it.

When they finally pulled away from each other minutes or maybe hours later, out of breath, Yoongi thought that maybe Taehyung really did. They rested their foreheads together for a moment, smiling at each other like they’d never been happier in their lives—and maybe Yoongi hadn’t. Yoongi was the first to chance a look at where the string wrapped around his finger only for his smile to grow wider. He looked back up into Taehyung’s eyes once more as he lifted his left hand for the other to see for himself.

“It’s back,” Taehyung breathlessly marveled. “Is it-” he pulled away just enough to look at his own “-is it just me because I got so used to seeing it fading, or is it brighter than before now?”

“I don’t think it’s ever been this vivid,” Yoongi answered. “I always remembered it being just slightly transparent. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think this was an actual, real string on my finger right now.”

Taehyung’s light laugh made Yoongi’s already palpitating heart jump even more. “Kiss me?” Taehyung asked.

Who was Yoongi to refuse that request?

“So does this mean I’m not going to have you coming to me to mope about your soulmate anymore?” Namjoon teased when Yoongi finally introduced the two. It was a stupidly large gathering at Jimin’s house, who had insisted that they had to celebrate not just one, but two soulmate pairs getting together. Jimin demanded that Yoongi invited Namjoon so he could meet him, and had invited Jungkook who also brought his older brother Seokjin since Jimin saw a picture of him and demanded that he needed to meet such a beauty in person. And of course Hoseok was there as well.

So there were seven of them. Maybe not large for Jimin’s standards, but this was absolutely a huge gathering for Yoongi who preferred to just chill at home by himself—well not so much by himself since he now had an actual boyfriend who he just couldn’t help wanting to see all the time.

“You act like I did that all the time,” Yoongi said, rolling his eyes. “I only did that once.”

“Twice,” Namjoon corrected. “Once when you first met, and then when you met the second time. You came to my house so late at night, already halfway to drunk, and kept me up way too late telling me about how you could just tell that it was already doomed to fail.”

Yoongi didn’t need to look to know Taehyung was pouting. He could practically feel its aura. “We’re not doomed though, are we, Yoongi?”

“You would have failed if it weren’t for me,” Jimin inserted himself into the conversation. “You literally owe this whole entire thing to me. If I hadn’t met Yoongi through work, and I wasn’t best friends with you’re dumb but beautiful ass, you probably wouldn’t have even talked at all. And I was the one who forced you to air out your dirty laundry so that you could actually talk things out like adults.”

“Yes, thank you, Almighty Jimin who shall never let us live that down,” Taehyung said as he exaggeratedly bowed to him. “I promise to name one of my future children after you to honor the good deeds you have done for me and my boyfriend.”

“I shall accept that payment,” Jimin said, definitely enjoying himself more than he should.

“If we have or adopt kids in the future, we are not naming them after Jimin,” Yoongi said, bursting Jimin’s bubble of delight. “And also, please don’t compliment my boyfriend’s ass, it’s off limits.”

“So’s mine, so it’s even.” Jimin laughed, leaning into his own boyfriend since he could never keep himself standing when he laughed too hard for some reason.

“Dude, why did you never introduce me to your new friends before this?” Namjoon cut in suddenly. “I like them already.”

“Of course you do,” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You can have them if you want. I don’t think I want to keep him anymore.”

“Hey! We literally just established how you two owe me a child for putting you together,” Jimin said.

Sighing, Yoongi rolled his eyes. “That is not what we-”

“I promise to not forget my debt to you, my Savior Jimin.” Taehyung yet again played up worshiping the man while Yoongi merely questioned every choice he made to put himself here.

But when he saw the string on his finger, bright as ever, he couldn’t help but smile. Thanks to not just Taehyung but also the other people who had recently entered his life, he smiled much more than before. He had people who accepted him for who he was and cared about him.

Sometimes, the string was wrong. Not even that could be perfect. But sometimes, it got this so, so right. And Yoongi was just happy that in the end, his soulmate did end up being the person who could love him the way he had longed for for so long.

My ask box is always open!

Also, if you’d like to donate to my Ko-fi, feel free! Absolutely no pressure though :) You can also check out my Etsy shop for BTS inspired charms as well!

[livlepretre]

Hi! You probably get asked this all the time and I haven't had the the chance to see it. What's your advice about gaining confidence about your writing? I have moments when it just flows; I enjoy it; and what I write feels true to me. But sometimes I go back and I second-guess everything and accuse myself of being pretentious. It's my current cycle. I'm asking because I love your writing and you seem to have a healthy relationship with it.

Ask away, friend :)

Honestly the main thing that's going to give you confidence is probably just time-- I find it much easier to let my former anxieties about my writing roll off my back now at 31 than I did when I was 21. The longer you write, and keep at it, the more you will figure out what you like about your writing, or other people's writing, and the more you will find yourself dismissing things that are supposed to be "good" but which leave you cold, and being attracted to things which are "hokey" or unpopular just because you really really like them. Writing really isn't about "good or bad" so much as "do I like this? does this make me feel things? think interesting things? is it fun?" Who cares what the popular opinions are on the matter?

BUT here are some things that could be proactively useful:

1) Give yourself permission to write however you want! It's only pretentious if you find it pretentious-- and pretension, in my personal experience, tends to arise out of dishonesty on the part of the writer. If you're writing something you find meaningful, and truthful, then it can't be pretentious-- it's anything but. So what if it's lofty stuff? GO FOR IT! We need those sorts of stories! I used to have a lot of fear about writing "purple prose" and also about being melodramatic in my writing-- and then I was reading a novel, really enjoying it, and realized that it does all of the things I had held back on in my writing out of fear and anxiety and that I should just say to hell with it and do the things in my writing that I wanted. Like, be as emotionally devastating and really linger on those things as much as I desired, because that's what I like to write. So, just give yourself permission to be "pretentious," but know that you aren't being pretentious at all because you are writing from a place of truth.

2) Not every writing project needs to have the same "bar" for yourself-- I find it helpful to decide when I start a fic whether I'm going to obsess over every little detail (hello Fairytale Ending) or whether I'm going to intentionally keep it casual, and write and publish messy first drafts that kind of meander and explore random tangents and just be satisfied with the writing being imperfect but fun ((The Stars Were Brightly Shining) is mostly a writing exercise I designed for myself to destress because I just write a short 1300 word or so chapter and then publish, so a lot of the time I can get a chapter out after only an afternoon of writing, vs. in FE where it might take me weeks to publish one 8000 word behemoth of a chapter that is compulsively worked over). So, basically, let some writing be more serious, and some more just for the fun of it. This can really help get things flowing.

3) Don't write if you don't feel like it. Unless you're writing for your work. But if it's a hobby-- keep it a hobby. Write when you want to, and don't let it feel like an obligation, because it's not. It should be for fun, when you have the headspace and the desire.

4) Find a time of day when you write best. This can really help you feel like writing more. For example, I'm best at writing in the mornings-- thoughts are clearer, words flow much more easily, and scenes that totally stump me when I pull open a story in the evenings flow like a miracle if I open the document up right when I wake up. Obviously, most of the time I can't write in the morning-- but a couple of days a week, sometimes more often than that if there's a holiday, I can, so I try to make an effort to if I'm excited about the idea of writing. This time for you might be late at night, when there are fewer distractions from other people, or it might be right after school/work, or on your lunch break, or only on Sunday afternoons when the light is just right. But find that time, and it will really help you to think.

5) If you're going through a funk, try Gentle Writing as a technique. This is for when you want to write-- genuinely-- but you're having a ton of trouble getting the words out. The idea is this: instead of trying to meet a high and ultimately arbitrary word count which can add unneeded stress and anxiety (I have to write 1000 words today or it's not writing!), give yourself permission to write however much you actually want to write and be content with that. That might mean writing a paragraph, a few lines of dialogue, or maybe just one sentence. The idea is any writing is writing. It could even be just adding in a word, or switching a word or a phrase out on something you've already written to something that sounds better. It could be just rereading what you already have, or jotting down some notes on your outline. It's called Gentle Writing because it's gentle on yourself, of course, but also because it's about rearranging your relationship to your writing and doing away with the arbitrary stressors that tells us you're not a real writer! Because of course you are. This is probably the form of writing that I practice the most often, with those spurts of furious inspiration where everything just flows only happening occasionally.

6) Accept and embrace the inherent imperfection of the craft. I prefer writing fic and self-publishing in many ways to submitting work for publication in other forums because that medium embraces the messiness of writing-- it's okay to have typos (I have them, you have them, everyone has them) and it's okay to be totally experimental and have clunky formatting and change your ideas midway through the process-- posting chapter by chapter tends to encourage those sorts of changes, and the "learn as you go" approach and it's easy to see it in fic-- but all of this is also true in published works, it's just that what we see when we read a book is far from the original manuscript-- many revisions past. Fic helps me to remember that all writing has its flaws, its failures, and its inadequacies, but that the whole process is really a big learning process, and hopefully the next fic or even the next chapter of the fic is written a little bit better. It's actually super freeing to realize that writing is always going to be imperfect-- for me, that's what helps me move on from past mistakes and keep swimming forward.

I hope some of this might be helpful. Good luck with your writing!!

[kim-seungmine]

give my heart a chance

title: give my heart a chance

characters: (fem) reader x han jisung of stray kids. 

genres: romance, fluffy as hell (i just want them to kiss so bad!), college au, friends to lovers au, composer/music scorer!jisung, assistant director!reader

word count: 6.9k words

warnings: cursing, a little suggestive i guess? there’s a lot of sexual references but nothing too wild, lots of (attempted) flirting, jisung is whipped as hell, it gets very wordy sometimes IM SORRY.

synopsis: you and jisung have these theories about love, and there’s only one way to prove yourselves right: testing them on each other.

a/n: writing this gave me so much joy, and writing from jisung’s perspective is super fun. lastly, sorry for the lame ass title, but i hope you’ll enjoy! please tell me there aren’t many grammatical/spelling errors i’ve read this over and over again.

Verse 1: “Date me, so I can write love songs about you.”

Han Jisung has a lot of ambitions. Being the world's best composer, buying a whole island for himself, and flexing his Rolex watches are on his list, but for now finishing his demo for the upcoming production meeting will be enough.

Maybe he's not so ambitious after all.

The door clicks open and reveals his roommate Lee Minho, his hair disheveled but eyes twinkling. Jisung raises his eyebrow. "Did you pass out on the street or something? What time is it?"

It's now Minho's turn to raise his eyebrow. "I had this amazing date but to put it simply, your man got laid."

Jisung sighs and knocks his head on the desk. "Lucky you."

"Your time will come, my friend," Minho assures him flatly, lying on the couch with a contented sigh. "What time is the meeting?"

"9 A.M." Jisung yawns, lifting his head to glance at his watch. "Fuck, I'm late."

Jisung doesn't know why he struggles to finish this project. His senior Bang Chan asked him to join his graduation project and help with the scoring. Jisung is willing to do anything that boosts his resume, but so far the project is only causing him headache. He's Han Jisung, the best student in his batch who almost always forgets to finish his assignments but always manages to ace them. He also sings and raps—even freestyling. He's the musical genius. Why is this happening to him?

Minho mumbles a sleepy good luck before passing out. Jisung is about pack his laptop when his phone vibrates. Your name appears on his screen, making him groan.

"Han Jisung you're late," you deadpan before he gets to say hello.

"I'm on my way."

“Get your ass here in 10 minutes or..."

"Or what?"

He can hear you tapping your pen on the table. "...I have nothing to threaten you with."

Jisung chuckles. Do you know how cute you are even over the phone? "I'll be there in 10."

Chan and the rest of the crew are already inside the room when Jisung arrives. He slowly pulls up a chair beside you, trying his best to ignore your glare.

"About the wooden table we wanted last week, have we got it?" Chan asks.

Kim Seungmin, the head of production design team, nods his head. "The color is a bit different from your moodboard because the one you wanted was slightly more expensive than expected, is this still okay?" He pauses to show Chan a picture on his phone. The director examines it before passing Seungmin's phone to you. "What do you think, Y/N?"

"It's a bit different but still fits the overall mood in my opinion. A little bit warmer, but I don't think it will disturb the ambience."

Chan smiles. "Hmm, I agree. Good job, Seungmin. And that's it, everyone! Thank you for coming! We only have 3 more scenes to film so hang in there, okay?"

The whole room lets out sighs of relief, leaving the room one by one.

"Jisung, can I talk to you?"

"Just curse at me. You don't have to be so nice."

Chan laughs. "You know why I asked you to help me, right? I know what you're capable of, so tell me, what's bothering you?"

Jisung pulls out the film script from his backpack, showing Chan the parts he's circled with red marker. "I finished the scoring for other scenes, but I can never seem to think of anything that fits this one scene."

He has played the scene in his head over and over. The man confesses his feelings to the woman he loves dearly, but also says goodbye to her. The woman only nods, lips curling into a small smile, and waves him goodbye.

It doesn’t make sense. Why would they do that? People who love each other stay together unless their parents disagree or someone dies. Or at least, they try to be together until the feelings fade. Why would they say goodbye before even starting anything?

Chan stands up, patting Jisung on his back as he’s making his way to the door. “I don’t want to limit your creativity or make you create music only based on my vision, but here’s something to think about: sometimes it’s not about fate or timing. It’s about choice. See you next week, kids!”

Both of you slump into your chairs the moment he’s out of sight. “I hate it when he’s being cryptic like that. Why can’t he just tell you what he wants? He’s the director anyways, everything has to be according to his vision.” You turn to Jisung who’s scratching his head. “Please tell me you understood what he said.”

“I understand,” Jisung answers. “Well, theoretically. Do you?”

“No one will truly understand it the way Chan does, but I understand the message he wants to tell.”

“Will you just help me then?” Jisung begs. “We don’t have much time left and I’m sure you’ll kill me if I submit the demo a minute late so let’s make our lives easier and help each other out, shall we?”

Jisung does need help—especially since you’ll be extremely critical—but he also wants to spend more time with you. He doesn’t know if Minho going on dates motivates him to do the same, and that’s what he wants to figure out.

“Okay,” you say. “But the moment you annoy me too much I’ll leave you to rot alone”

Jisung smiles so brightly his cheeks hurt. “When do you finish class today?”

It wasn’t love at first sight. The first few weeks working with you was hard that he wanted to take a revenge on you by asking Minho to break your heart. His roommate specializes in breaking people’s hearts, but he figured you would break Minho’s heart instead.

After a while, Jisung would rather you break his heart than anybody else’s.

“I hope you like Americano,” Jisung says. You avert your gaze to two cups of Americano on the table, nodding as you sit in front of him. “Thanks. Is the cheesecake mine too?”

He chuckles, sliding the plate to you. “It’s mine, but you can have it. I wanted to buy you one but I don’t know what you like.”

“You dared to assume that I like Americano but couldn’t decide what cake I would like?”

Jisung wonders whether he should be honest with you.

“I almost did,” he confesses. “But buying you cake feels too personal, isn’t it? This will feel like a date.”

You unexpectedly pout, and Jisung almost has a heart attack. “Stop flirting, you’re so bad at it.”

“Once I start flirting for real, you’ll be madly in love with me in 10 minutes.”

You slide the plate back to him. “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation,” you sigh. “Let’s start. You’re the one who wants me to help you get your shit done.”

Jisung opens his laptop to show you his drafts. “I honestly don’t know if this scene is supposed to be sad,” he explains, playing one of them. You listen carefully, glancing at him every few seconds. When the music stops, you close his laptop.

“Do you believe in love, Han Jisung?”

Jisung stops slicing his cheesecake, puts his fork down, and looks into your eyes. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Just answer me.”

“Yes? I’ve been in love before, that’s for sure.”

“Do you think the man loves the woman?”

“He does.”

You look satisfied with his answer. For a few minutes, you don’t ask him any other question, just sipping your coffee while examining your surroundings. “That’s it? You asked me all those big questions then just stopped?”

“Your theories are interesting,” you point out. “You believe in love and thinks that the couple needs to be together, but you’re not thinking from their perspective yet.”

“What’s your theory then?” he asks.

“My theories… about love?”

“Yeah. If you don’t mind sharing.”

You shake your head. “It’s okay, I think it will be fun. Well, this is what I’ve always believed in: boys like you will never be heartbroken.”

“Boys like me?”

“Boys like you, who date just for the sake of dating itself or getting laid.”

Jisung panics, waving his hands in front of your face. “Y/N I’m not some fuckboy I swear to God.”

“I know you’re not,” you clarify. “Boys like you just don’t think too much about anything, don’t really use your feelings. You date you when you want to date, break up when you want to break up, stay single for a while then starting to feel empty and thinking that dating someone is the only solution.”

“Aren’t we all like that?! Tell me you’ve never thought of going on Tinder when you’re lonely!” he protests. “For a film major, you have a lot of time.”

“I have to observe people in order to survive,” you laugh. “Where do you think I get ideas? It’s from other people.”

Jisung is still forming a smart comment in his head when you tilt your head, flashing him a smile so sweet like you didn’t just indirectly diss him. “Your turn. What’s your theory?”

It’s kind of hard to believe, but Jisung has quite a lot of theories about love. He’s not what you’ll call experienced, but he knows enough to come up with his own theories. “Which one hurts more, dumping someone or getting dumped?”

“Getting dumped, of course. That’s not even a theory anymore.”

Jisung wiggles his index finger. “It’s the other way around. Before you break up with someone, you think of hundreds of reasons—whether blaming yourself or the other person. You’ll keep thinking about things you hate about them and shitty experiences with them before coming up with a perfect breakup scenario. And the whole process, Princess, is agonizing.”

“Wow,” you breathe out, amazed. “You’re something else.”

“Jisung-ah!”

Minho jogs to your table, stopping when he realizes that Jisung isn’t alone. “Thank God I found you,” he whispers urgently. “Listen, I know you’re in the middle of a date but this is emergency.”

“What is it?”

“Are you coming home tonight?” Minho asks.

Jisung frowns. “Of course I am. I need to sleep so bad.”

“Are you sure? If so, then…” Minho proceeds to type something on his phone before passing it to Jisung. The latter coughs at the content, pulling out his wallet from his back pocket and handing it to Minho. “If you lose it I’m going to kill you,” he threatens.

“Are you sure you’re coming—”

“Don’t worry, he’s definitely coming home. I’m not sleeping with him if that’s what you’re implying.”

Minho laughs, bowing playfully at you as he backs away. “Good choice!” he yells. “Have fun, you two!”

You giggle while Jisung curses under his breath. “He asked you for a condom, didn’t he?” Once again, you casually smile at him, eyes twinkling. Jisung slowly nods, and you burst into a hearty laugh. “I caught you carrying condoms in your wallet after you insisted that you’re not a fuckboy. Nice move, Han Jisung.”

Jisung groans.

“Are you done?” Jisung asks over the phone. After your “date,” it’s become a routine for him to visit you at the bookstore you work at to discuss the project (while subtly flirting with you because he wants to see you getting all sassy).

“Not yet,” you answer lowly. “My manager is here. You can come inside and wait.”

He forces his legs to walk faster and enters the bookstore. You wave at him from the cashier, gesturing at him to sit on one of the benches. You continue to serve the remaining customers, smiling at Jisung once in a while. He finds himself returning your smile with a bigger one, and he wonders how to convince you that he’s not as bad and shallow as you think.

A crazy idea pops into his mind, causing his palms to sweat. But he wants to do it, to at least try and see how you react. Jisung’s heart races when you say goodbye to your manager and approach him. You nudge his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

You shiver as soon as you open the door. “Where do you want to work?”

Jisung gestures at you to keep walking, giving you his phone and airpods. “You can just listen and give me feedback. I’ll edit once I get home, you must be tired.”

You keep repeating the song throughout the way to the bus station. You turn to Jisung when you’re done, punching his arm lightly. “Well done, this is much better. You can actually show it to Chan.”

“No way. Really?”

You press play once again, bopping your head to the soft beats. “The man tells the woman he loves her after a long time. It’s a happy moment, an achievement. Then he bids her farewell because he knows—both of them know—that the relationship will end badly. It’s sad, but relieving because at least they know what they feel about each other. The music is not sad, but it’s not happy either. It’s hopeful because the characters are going to start another journey, although without each other.”

“But you end it with that little piano sounds, so there’s a tinge of sadness left,” you continue. “And that’s wonderful. I think Chan will like it a lot.”

Jisung lets out the breath he doesn’t know he was holding. “You interpret it better than I ever will,” he mutters. “Thank you. I hope Chan won’t fire me now.”

“He won’t. He loves you and knows you’re talented,” you tell him. “Will you help me for my future projects? We have to create a short film for finals. I haven’t told you this, but I really love your style. I wish I could hear your songs more often.”

“I-I could just, y-you know, write you songs,” Jisung stutters. This is it.  He has to tell you now or he will regret it for the rest of his life.

“Huh?”

“I can write you all the songs you want. I can even write songs about you.”

“What songs? Like diss tracks?”

“I take requests, so I can write you a diss track if you want me to. And I can definitely write love songs about you.”

“How is that possible? You’re unbelievable.”

Jisung stops, clearing his throat before focusing his eyes on you. “Date me,” he enunciates. “Date me, so I can write love songs about you. Maybe later you’ll realize that boys like me aren’t always fuckboys. At least, I’m not. And I’ll give you the privilege to break my heart. I know you can do it.”

You gape at him. “You’re asking me out just to test our theories?”

Great, you think that it’s a stupid idea. Of course it is, why would you want to date him just to—

“Okay,” you add. “I’ll go out with you.”

“Holy shit,” Jisung yelps. “I thought you would beat me up.”

Leaning on the lamppost, you wink at him. “It’ll be fun. But I’ll break all of your bones the moment you start disrespecting me.”

Jisung stands straighter at your tone. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“So, what now? You’re taking me home?” you suggest.

“If you’ll let me.”

You extend your hand, and Jisung quickly takes it before you change your mind. The two of you walk in comfortable silence until you reach your neighborhood. “Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?” Jisung shyly asks, tightening his grip on your hand.

“Sure!” you chirp, squeezing his hand before letting go. “Good night, Jisung.”

“Good night Y/N.”

You give him a small wave, a cheerful smile plastered on your face.

Jisung waves back, unable to erase the stupid grin on his face. Oh, you’re so going to break his heart, and he won’t even try to stop you.

Verse 2: “I just want to be yours, completely yours.”

“You did not just tell me you like horror movies.”

The two of you are currently standing in front of the self-ticket machine, bickering over what movie you should watch. In turns out, your movie taste clash; Jisung lives for horror movies while you despise them. People behind him start snickering, so Jisung pulls you away from the queue.

“While we’re at it, tell me what kind of movies you watch,” he begins, trying to hide his amusement at your frustration. “I love everything, except for horror. But the ones I often watch may put you to sleep.”

“And now, if you don’t want to watch It 2, what do you want to watch?”

“Nothing really interests me,” you express. “It’s fine, let’s just watch this. I’ll pick the movie next time.”

Jisung beams. “My princess is so understanding,” he coos.

You roll your eyes at him, but not pushing him away when he wraps his arm around your shoulder. “How do you not cringe everytime you call me that.”

He pokes your cheek. “Because I know you secretly like it, and I’ll do anything that makes you happy.”

“Wow, you sound like you’re really in love with me,” you blurt out, completely unaware of the effect your words have on him. Who knows? Maybe I will, soon.

Three hours later, Jisung figures that you’re already playing with his feelings. During the entire movie, you didn’t flinch nor close your eyes. You didn’t even hold his hand for support (to be very honest, Jisung was quite disappointed at this).

“Y/N.”

You get startled at his voice, automatically stopping on your track. “Now everything startles me.” You clutch your chest in shock. “I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”

“For someone who doesn’t like horror, you endured everything well inside the theater.”

“Curiosity always gets the best of me.”

“You could’ve chosen another movie, and I would be okay with that. Next time don’t force yourself, okay?”

“It’s something you love,” you explain. “I know you won’t force me to do things I don’t like, and I won’t force you either, but if it’s something that I can still tolerate then I don’t mind. It’s not like we can’t compromise, right?”

There you go, saying thoughtful things that warms Jisung’s heart so nonchalantly. He only hums in response, picking up his pace since you’ve started running. “I’m running late!” you half-yell before sprinting towards the bookstore.

After a few blocks, both of you arrive at the bookstore, almost running out of breath. Jisung fixes your hair in a haste. “I’ll pick you up later? Watch another movie, maybe? A funny one so you’ll be able to sleep?”

You scrunch up your nose. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll just call you if Pennywise appears in my room.”

“Oh I’m sure you’re scarier than him, Princess, don’t worry.”

Jisung is prepared for a punch on his shoulder or strings of cussing words from you.

But you reward him with a peck on his cheek instead.

It’s been two hours since your shift was supposed to end, but Jisung hasn’t heard anything from you. His messages are unread and you won’t pick up his call. Minho watches his friend paces back and forth in the living room.

“Dude just pick her up or go to her place, you’re stressing me out!”

“I don’t know if she will like it. She did say I didn’t need to pick her up.”

“Are you really dating her? You’ve never been like this before.”

Jisung plops onto the sofa, massaging his temples. Minho won’t understand, especially since he’s the one who totally fits your “boys like you” criteria. “I am, but the whole thing is different.”

“Like, how?” Minho deadpans.

“We’re dating to test our theories about each other. About love.”

“So you two are just fooling around?”

“No!” Jisung insists. “It’s not like that. We’re dating, but I have to admit that things are getting more serious than I expected.”

Minho rubs his chin. “Isn’t that what you want? You seem to really like her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

The doorbell suddenly rings. Minho opens the door, surprised to see you there. “Y/N?” he gasps. “Are you okay? Are you crying?”

Jisung’s ears perk up at the word crying and he immediately rushes to you. He cradles your face, examining you from head to toe. “I was so worried Y/N. What the hell happened?” he questions. Minho grabs his phone and wallet from the buffet, mouthing that he’ll give the two of you some time alone.

You circle your arms around Jisung’s waist after Minho closes the door, wetting his sweatshirt with your tears. Jisung automatically takes you into his embrace, stroking your hair in the hopes of calming you down. “Some old man tried to make a pass at me,” you sob. “I almost slapped him but my friends stopped me. The owner has banned him from coming.”

Jisung tightens his hold on you, guilt starting to overtake him. He should have come to you, he should have just come to you. Why did he hesitate? “Motherfucker,” he splutters. “God—I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Why are you saying sorry?” you try to laugh. “I’m fine, Jisung. I’m just… mad. And a little bit scared, but I’m okay. Seriously though, men have no manners.”

“I know,” he replies. “I’m sorry. I hope it won’t ever happen again. I won’t let it happen, okay? I’ll keep you safe.”

You snort, pulling away to pinch his cheeks. “Then who’s gonna protect you? I know you watch horror movies well but everything else scares you.”

Jisung’s lips stretch into a loving smile, wiping your tears with his hands. “I’ll try my best. You can trust me,” he says. “Should I take you home now?”

You seem to consider his offer before burying your face in chest again. Jisung hopes you can’t hear his heart beating violently due to the close proximity. “Jisung, you okay?” you hum. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

Of course, he won’t be able to fool you.

“Yeah. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

“Can I sleep over?”

Jisung separates you from his body before you can hear his heart jumping out of its ribcage. “All I can think about is Pennywise now,” you sigh, searching for approval in his eyes. Jisung feels his legs weaken, so he squeezes your shoulders. “You sure? Do you feel comfortable sleeping in my room with Minho sleeping next door? Oh fuck it, why am I encouraging you to change your mind? Of course you can sleep over. You can trust me, and you can trust Minho too. And it’s not that I’ll even let him touch a strand of your hair!” he blabbers.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Minho’s name. “Lee Minho is hot, I don’t mind having him around.”

“You go around declaring that men have no manners and boys like me are fuckboys yet you don’t mind having Lee fucking Minho around?!”

Once again, you wrap your arms around his waist, and Jisung wastes no time in returning your hug although his eyes are angry now. “I have you, right? You’re not an asshole, you won’t let anything happen to me.”

Jisung sighs in defeat, resting his chin on top of your head. “You’re impossible.”

After putting you to bed (with much difficulty because you kept commenting at how messy his room is), Jisung finds himself lying on the couch, staring at his room. Minho is already back and is now asleep (but not before he gave his roommate a whole warning to not say anything that can damage Jisung’s reputation).

Are you sleeping well? Are you still sad? Do you really think that Minho is hot or were you just playing with him?

His questions seem to reach your mind because seconds later, you slide the door open. You walk towards him, kneeling down to see him better. “JIsung-ah,” you call out softly. “Are you asleep?”

Jisung blinks, heat rising to his cheeks because you’re staring at him so intensely. “Not yet. What is it? You can’t sleep?”

“You can sleep inside, it’s cold out here,” you whisper. “It’s fine, I can sleep anywhere like a log.” He rubs your hand. “Go back to sleep.”

Jisung sits up when you don’t budge. “What if I also want you to be next to me?” you murmur, but he hears everything loud and clear. He carries you back inside his room with saying a word, hoping that this isn’t just a test he will fail.

He lays you down gently, which surprises himself since he tends to do everything in a rush. Jisung settles himself beside you, ready to finally sleep when you scoot closer and put your arms around his torso. “Thank you for today,” you say.

Jisung turns around to face you, slowly pulling you into his arms. “What did I do?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Being there for me,” you reply. “You didn’t doubt me, you didn’t blame me.”

Jisung lifts your chin so he can look into your eyes. “Why would I blame you? You really should’ve kicked that man’s ass.”

You break into a smile, and Jisung can’t hold himself anymore. The feeling of you in his embrace, your smile, the way you look at him, and the warmth of your words are driving him crazy. Jisung realizes it’s always been like that since the very first time he met you: you’ve always driven him crazy.

“Y/N.” He licks his lips. “I want to start over. I want us to date without thinking about the goddamn theories. I don’t care about them anymore. I just want to be yours, completely yours. I’m not saying this only because I want to date, I only want to date you. And I don’t want to think about breaking up with you once we finish proving those theories. I won’t be able to handle it, I like you too much.”

You blink at him, staring at him long and intense Jisung feels like burning. You cup his face, tilting your head to peck him on the lips. It ends way too soon for his liking, but he already wants to faint.

“Aren’t I your Princess already? That means you’re automatically mine.”

Jisung chuckles, a huge burden is lifted off his chest as you snuggle to him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Nice move, Han Jisung. Confessing to me when I’m in your bed and feeling sentimental as hell.”

“Sorry Princess, but you’re too irresistible. I just gotta make you mine right here, right now.”

“Go to sleep.”

“As you wish,” he sighs dreamily, peppering kisses on the top of your head until you fall asleep.

“Where are you? The food is ready.”

Jisung rummages through his pile of clothes on the floor, picking up a random black shirt and a pair of ripped jeans. His phone is on the bed, speaker on so he could actually get ready while you’re hollering at him.

“I’ll be on my way soon, Princess. Please don’t get mad,” he pleads.

“I took a day off from my part-time job for you, Jisung. But you’re acting like my time isn’t precious at all,” you answer, a little softer this time. Jisung chews the inside of his cheek; you’re right. He’s always late although he barely has time to meet you thesedays.

He swears he doesn’t mean to, but whenever he’s about to meet you, misfortunes always happen: his alarm doesn’t go off, he has an appointment he can’t cancel, or he’s too tired to get out of his bed. You get into petty arguments whenever you meet, but you forgive him every single time although Jisung himself knows he’s being stubborn. As he slips on his shirt, Jisung wonders if this is the beginning of the end.

“Okay,” you finally mumble. “Be careful.”

Jisung ends the call, running as fast as he can to your apartment complex. He considers taking the stairs, but remembers that you live on the 20th floor and decides to wait for the elevator. When he finally enters your flat, his eyes brim with tears.

You’re sleeping on the sofa, two portions of jjajjangmyeon along with a bowl of caramel popcorn are on the table. The television is on, ready to play Along with the Gods because Jisung wants to re-watch it tonight.

He’s the luckiest man on Earth yet he keeps disappointing you. It pains him how small mistakes may really destroy both of you.

Jisung crouches down, wiping his tears quickly before planting a kiss on your lips. You stir, opening your eyes.

“Hi,” you yawn. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“I missed you,” Jisung rasps. “So much.”

He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, his tense muscles relaxing when you hum knowingly against his skin. “I missed you too. Wanna talk about it?” you offer, patting his back softly.

“About what?”

“You had a bad day.”

“And you’re sleepy,” he retorts. “Let’s just sleep.”

“Not before you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Jisung gives up, deciding to tell you how swamped he is with projects and how everything doesn’t seem to go his way. You listen to him—although through half-lidded eyes—giving him all suggestions and reassurance he doesn’t even know he needs.

Sometimes Jisung still thinks about the theories both of you wanted to prove months ago. He remembers how sure he was that yours was wrong. He was not an insensitive asshole.

Maybe he is now. And you don’t deserve it.

The thing is, Jisung is selfish. Losing you is something he fears the most, and now, surrounded by your warmth and soft caresses, he makes a silent promise to fix everything. To make himself worthy of you and your love again.

“Y/N.” He lifts himself up just enough to see your face, smiling at your sleepy face. “I love you.”

You freeze, eyes boring into his, trying to look for traces of lies. He stays in his position and waits for you to say something, anything, before his heart explodes and breaks into a million pieces.

“You do, now?” you reply, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

Jisung waits for you to say it back, but you soon fall asleep in his arms.

Jisung had the best dream ever. He dreamed of going on vacation with you, and you always wore your brightest smile that he loved so much.  But that wasn’t even the best part.

In his dream, you told him that you loved him.

In reality, Jisung wakes up to an empty bed. He checks his phone, relieved to see some messages from you.

princess : hv some cereal before you go, but pls wash the dishes

princess: dont forget to make the bed or ur dead

me: im a slave 4 u, ma’am, dont worry

The tone of your messages doesn’t change, and for now it’s enough to soothe his heart. Jisung makes the bed as you requested before examining your room. He’s seen all his photos you pinned on the wall, but now you’ve written comments underneath some of them.

Jisung’s eyes fall on a photo of him munching on his chocolate. The comment reads, “Please eat more, you’re too skinny.”

Another photo sees him sitting in front of his laptop with his headphones on. “You’re the coolest composer, you know that, right?”

Jisung recognizes the last photo as the one taken during one of your beach dates (in which he dragged Minho to be his designated photographer). You had begged him for a piggy back ride, and he eventually caved. Jisung flaunted his gummy smile as you pressed your lips on his right cheek. Underneath the photo, you wrote, “Jisung-ah, I’m so happy with you. Thank you.”

He wonders why you keep all these thoughts to yourself. These are your love letters for him, they beat all the “Han Jisung, I love you too” scenarios Jisung have inside his head. Why wouldn’t you just tell him that? Is it because he hasn’t been the best boyfriend thesedays?

After taking a photo of your “love shrine” (for blackmail purposes), Jisung leaves his notebooks inside one of your drawers, the ones filled with lyrics he wrote for you and about you. You wrote him the sweetest love letters, and he’s going to fulfill the promise he made when he asked you out.

You deserve to know every little detail of his feelings for you.

“Y/N… about last night… are you mad at me? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You stop flicking through channels, dropping the remote to ponder Jisung’s question. “Yeah, I am,” you admit. “But we’ve fought enough. I don’t wanna waste my energy.”

“So you’re going to let me be a jerk?! What if I never snapped out of it? What if I never apologized to you? Or feel guilty?! You have to beat the shit out of me, Y/N. You can’t be this nice!”

You prop your chin on your knees, closing your eyes. “Last night, I planned to break up with you.”

Jisung pales at your confession. “Princess, I’m—”

“Please hear me out first,” you cut him off. “These past few weeks have been tough, I honestly thought you cheated on me. When you were late again last night, I told myself to end things with you. But then I fucking fell asleep, and then as soon as I saw you, I didn’t want to do it anymore. Plus you looked like a mess last night.”

“I kept wondering if we’re trapped in a toxic relationship. And it angered me. I hated myself for keep wanting to forgive you. When you told me that you love me… I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t know whether you were being sincere or just caught up in the moment.”

Tears start rolling down your cheeks. “That’s why I didn’t answer. This morning, I decided to give you one last chance.”

“Did I… ruin it?” Jisung asks sheepishly, wiping your tears gently.

You shake your head. “I acted like nothing happened, but you still apologized. And complained about me not telling you about this sooner.”

“So that means…?”

“That means,” you begin. “Your theory is right. Dumping someone feels worse than getting dumped. Yesterday, memories of us fighting flooded my mind as I created a whole speech in my head about how much I hated you. It made me wanna explode, and that was the worst feeling I’ve ever experienced. Resentment is tiring, but the moment you stepped into the living room I know I don’t hate you.”

Jisung heaves a sigh of relief, placing his hand on top of yours carefully. “And your theory is wrong. You broke my heart. You truly did. I told you I love you, and when you didn’t say it back… I felt horrible... although I know it’s all my fault. You have me wrapped around your finger, Princess, I hope you know that.”

“Anyways, I saw your lovely comments for me on the photos,” he teases, knowing you meant to keep it a secret.

“Fucking hell!” you yell. “I forgot to hide them!”

“Why don’t you tell me now, then.”

Your lips curl into a teasing smile. “If I tell you I love you now, will you kiss me?”

Before you even properly say it, Jisung is already hovering over you, cupping your face and crashing his lips on yours. It just occurs to him that he’s never kissed you like this; it was always light pecks here and there. Jisung doesn’t know how he survived that, because nothing beats feeling your lips moving against his. Nothing beats the feeling of you tugging his hair, sighing in contentment when he starts exploring your warm mouth. Jisung tries to remember every single sensation; the way you curl your arms around his neck, the way you keep pulling him down to you as if he’s not close enough, the way you squirm as he nibbles your bottom lip gently.

“I love you,” you whisper in between feverish kisses he leaves every now and then. He pauses, finally letting himself breathe. You hold stars in your eyes, and those stars are all for him to see. It’s overwhelming, so all Jisung does is pressing another kiss on your lips. Moments later, when the lack of oxygen forces him to stop, he pulls away.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, trying to stop himself from kissing you again because he needs to tell you this first.

“For…?”

“Loving me.”

Chan’s graduation project has finally been screened, earning a standing ovation from everybody present. He invited all his crew to dinner, which has turned into a congratulatory party for Jisung and you. “You two didn’t disappoint me,” Chan exclaims. “I guess you’re the reason why Jisung finished his demo early, right Y/N?”

You wink cockily at him. “Han Jisung is nothing without me.”

Chan ruffles your hair before raising his hand to get everyone’s attention. “My last few months as a student felt amazing thanks to you guys. I’m sure you all know how thankful I am for each of you, so I won’t bore you with my speech. Now, Seungmin, I believe you have something to say.”

Kim Seungmin stands up, unfolding a piece of paper that sparks mixed reactions from the crowd. “Lee Felix, Hwang Hyunjin, Choi Jisu,” he announces. “Each of you owes ₩20,000 to me, Chan, and Shin Yuna because you guys freaking lost!” He claps, then turning to both of you. “Jisung and Y/N, thank you for making us rich!”

Everyone cheers while you and Jisung look dumbfounded. “All of you bet on us?!” you scream in disbelief. “Whoa I can’t believe you guys! Even you, Chan?”

The senior only chuckles. “Everyone was stressed out at how slow you two were but you guys were so annoyingly cute we couldn’t help ourselves!”

Seungmin collects all the money from the lost participants before distributing it to each of the winners. When he gets to Chan, the latter shakes his head. “Just use the money for round 2, I’ll pay the rest as well.”

The whole room cheers again, quickly getting up from their seats and debating about which place to go. You immediately start interrogating Seungmin, wanting to know what exactly happened during the whole production process.

Jisung taps Chan’s shoulder. “I believe I haven’t thanked you.”

Chan frowns. “For what?”

Jisung slips his hands into his jeans pocket, smiling at you as you turn around to check on him. “For making the whole project happened. For the whole, ‘Sometimes it’s not about fate or timing. It’s about choice.’ It kept me going, even when I thought Y/N and I weren’t meant to be. There are times when we just have to keep trying, aren’t we?”

“Well, thank you for remembering what I said. But it wasn’t me. It happened because you did try, Jisung. All of us have to make choices at some point, but not a lot of people actually have strength and will to do that. You did, so kudos to you. I’m trying to do the same myself, wish me luck, okay?”

Jisung snorts. “This is getting sappy, but thank you. And I will.”

Both boys laugh, exchanging playful slaps on each other’s back until you come up to them.

“Hey Chan, can I borrow Jisung for a sec?”

Chan shoves Jisung towards you. “If I catch you two sneaking out before round 2 is done, I’ll end you!”

You wave at Chan, and Jisung is now glued to your side. “What is it?” he asks, wrapping his arms around your shoulder. “I found your notebooks.”

He grins. “You did? I thought I’d have to tell you about them. They’re nice, right? I’ve recorded some of them, I’ll let you listen later.”

You cross your arms. “The ones in the black notebook are nice. I’m a goddess and I agree. But what are you gonna say about the red notebook?”

Jisung smirks at your question, dropping a quick kiss on your lips. “What about it? You wanna make everything I wrote there come true? I can do that, Princess. Whenever you want,” he whispers seductively.

His original plan was only to leave you the black notebook that contains all the sweetest lyrics he’s ever written. But then he thought it wouldn’t be fair if you only know that side of him. You have every right to know about his sexy thoughts too.

“I just want you to know me. All of me. And everything I feel about you, including the things I really, really want to do to you,” he continues.

You tiptoe to whisper into his ear, “Maybe later.”

“Later?!” Jisung shouts. “Later as in tonight?!”

You shrug, and now Jisung is dragging you to the opposite direction of where his friends are going. “Chan hyung! You can nag us later but we really need to go home right now!”

Everyone whistles, including Chan, so Jisung takes it as a yes and quickens his pace. You, meanwhile, are looking at the snacks stalls along the street.

“I’m still hungry. Let’s stop by to buy hotteok first.”

Groaning in frustration, Jisung knows he has no choice but to follow you. As he watches you enjoying your hotteok, he thinks about the moment when he desperately wanted to prove you wrong.

Jisung has nothing to prove now. You gave his heart a chance. You gave him a chance, and he’ll make sure to cherish you as long as he can.

more a/n: and it’s done! This story seems simple but writing it, I think the theme is a little bit hard to grasp. I hope you guys can understand everything that Jisung feels... 

[iffeelscouldkill]

Mission Log: REDACTED

A/N: Now that Yuletide reveals are revealed, I can go ahead and own this fic I wrote for the awesome Mousek for Yuletide! It’s quite long (14,999 words), so I’m not going to post the whole thing here, just enough to give people a flavour and lure them to AO3 for the rest.

This fic is written in an “audio narrative” format, in the same style as the From the Archives ficlets if you’ve read those. Slightly spoilery warning (skip over this to remain unspoiled but please read if you’re concerned about potential triggers): this fic features people’s memories being modified (though not completely irreversibly) without their consent.

Enjoy, friends!

Summary: Canon divergence AU from mid-episode 9. Instead of executing Plan B, the Rumor crew learns about a top-secret Regime project that is being carried out at ADVANCE Labs - and that the fate of the crew of the Iris is not what they thought it had been.Violet Liu goes in undercover, posing as a member of the lab team. But can she undo what the Regime has done to the crew and free them - without losing herself in the process?

Read on AO3!

---

“This is Agent McCabe. Two weeks have now passed since our last update. Based on the continued lack of audio input via this swarm of Strain H, we can assume that the crew of the Rumor have acted on the intel given to them by the insurgents, Thasia and Violet Liu, and successfully cured themselves of the VCN nanocloud infection.

 “As a result, pending further developments in this case, the Strange Case of Starship Iris is now considered closed. Footage from the case remains available in the archives and can be accessed on request by submitting form B7-081 with a superior’s signature.

 “My thanks to Major General Frederick, Agents Bauman and Cross, and the specialists at Procyon, as well as Junior Agent Goodman for their assistance in this case. Long live the Republic.”

*

SYSTEM: E.L.L.A.

USERNAME: EMILY CRADDOCK

ACCESSING RECENT DRAFTS... YOU HAVE ONE RECENT DRAFT. COMPOSED 26 JULY 2191.

REVIEWING DRAFT...

“Hey, it’s me. I just wanted to check in and say that I’m fine, I’m safe and I passed the background checks without any problems. I kept thinking the whole time that someone from the intake process would recognise me, but – none of them seemed familiar, and I guess I wasn’t either. Just a very small cog in the vast machine of the Reg- the Republic. God, I’ve got to get used to saying that again.

“I’m all settled in in my apartment – it’s twice the size of my room on the Rumor, but I can’t help thinking how much I miss that space.” Quiet laughter. “And you all. I… guess I’ll talk to you soon. I’ll have more to update you with tomorrow, after I start work at the lab. And I’ll be able to let you know whether our intel was good.

“Until then… Violet Liu out.”

*

“This is uh, lab report 05, week two? Analyst Brannon reporting on behalf of Gamma Team at ADVANCE.

“Over the past few days, our lab has continued work on synthesizing the NDMA proteins, and Specialists Chang and Yeboah report that they have made some positive advancements in this area. We have provisionally moved up the timeline for the first round of testing with this in mind, though Specialist Yeboah cautions that we need to monitor how the new proteins react with other molecules in the solution first, and then with the blood cell samples.

“A new member also joined our team today – specialist Huang. I wasn’t aware that we’d actually been hiring for our vacancy, but uh, she seems very qualified? A little over-qualified, even. In addition to her qualification from Brightwell she has extensive experience with this type of lab work, which makes us lucky to have her as part of the team. She’s joined Analyst Vázquez and Assistant Hudson in their work on the histone deacetylases.

“My specialism is in a completely different area, and I’m pretty sure our work histories have never overlapped, but – she seems familiar somehow. Except she said she was based on Mars up until six months ago, and I’ve been working on New Jupiter since… uh…

“Sorry – lost my train of thought for a minute there. I’ve been getting these persistent headaches… I think it’s all that poring over modelling data. Though I never get them while I’m working, so maybe they’re delayed-onset headaches? Heh. It could be the lab lighting; I might ask Supervisor Kaaka if we can swap out the bulbs for a lower wattage.

“Uh, anyway. This is Analyst Brannon signing off. Long live the Republic.”

*

ACCESSING RECENT DRAFTS... YOU HAVE ONE RECENT DRAFT. COMPOSED: 27 JULY 2191.

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“Hey, it’s me. Oh my god… oh my god, I can barely process what’s been happening. I was going to send this message as soon as I got back to my apartment, and instead I’ve just been sitting and staring into space because it’s just so… surreal…

“They’re alive. They’re all just… alive and working in a lab at ADVANCE on New Jupiter.

“I mean, we haven’t ruled out the possibility of highly advanced duplicates, but why would the Repub- the Reg- the IGR go to all that trouble? The simplest explanation - even if it still sounds pretty far-fetched - is that they're the same crew.

“Brian, if you’re listening to this – Alvy's alive. I know I didn’t work with him that long but I’m sure, I’m so sure it's really him. But it’s like Thasia and Other Violet said – none of them remember who they were, or their real names. Everyone here calls him Analyst Brannon – Michael Brannon.

“We’re not working very closely together, but I found an excuse to go over to his workstation and introduce myself, and – it seemed like he recognised me. I’m gonna try and find ways to talk to him – the real Alvy Connors is still in there, Brian, I’m sure of it.

“Is there anything you want me to… ask him? Maybe a question that only he would know the answer to?

“Sorry, I don’t have much more time – the IGR has listening devices planted throughout every Republic-issued apartment; everywhere except the bathroom. Even they have to draw the line somewhere. I scanned it, and it’s clean, but if I remember right there are still sensors that will activate if you go above a certain noise, light or heat, threshold – y’know, in case anyone takes it upon themselves to… build a bomb in here or something. And I don’t want the bugs outside to pick up what I’m saying, which is why I’m whispering.

“But I can’t stay in here too long, or they’ll get suspicious, so – I’m fine, and so far I haven’t messed up or called the Republic the Regime or anything in earshot of anyone. And no-one has recognised me. Well, except for Alvy, maybe.

“I’m still trying to figure out what exactly they’re working on, here. If you’re going to go to the trouble of staffing a lab with the crew of an… of an exploded space ship, it must be important, right? Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just a test, to see how well they assimilate.

“I’ll let you know when I know more. Until then… stay safe. I will too. Violet Liu out.”

*

ACCESSING RECENT DRAFTS... YOU HAVE ONE RECENT DRAFT. COMPOSED: 27 JULY 2191.

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“Hi, Liu. It’s me.

“I’ll keep this to the point, since I know you probably don’t have much time to spend playing back these messages. We’re all fine here. Kind of in a holding pattern, since there’s not much to do until we hear more from you or from Thasia and the other Violet, but it’s not too bad.

“Jeeter’s really happy, by the way, since he listened to your message. I mean, I think he’s still – processing – because he thought Connors was dead, he even wrote to his parents, and now we find out he’s alive, but not… y’know. Not Connors any more.

“But he’ll be fine. Krejjh is helping, which means the two of them are being even more nauseating then they usually are, and that’s saying something.

“Anyway. Listen, I know you want to try and get through to Connors, but… just be careful, okay? None of us, including Jeeter, wants you to get hurt or – worse – on the off chance that we might be able to bring him back. We always knew it was gonna be a long shot.

“Tripathi said to tell you the same, by the way. Well, she said it in a more… Tripathi… way, but the idea was the same. Find out what you can, but don’t get caught. We can’t afford to lo- to mess this up.

“Okay, I should go. Arkady Patel out.”

*

“This is lab report 06, week three. Analyst Brannon reporting on behalf of Gamma Team at ADVANCE.

“Since my last report, we have introduced the synthesized NDMA proteins to the solution and tested their interactions with samples representing different blood types. Six out of eight of the samples produced expected results, but two of the samples produced some unexpected interactions with the AB type blood cells, which warrants further testing and study.

“Specialist Huang, Analyst Vázquez and Assistant Hudson are progressing with their work on the histone deacetylases, which should be ready to introduce in the next phase of the solution, pending resolution of the AB blood cell issue.

“Okay, what else… Oh, Specialist Huang is integrating well with the team. She and I have had a couple of conversations, though our second one was unfortunately cut short when my headache started up again. Maybe I should bring it up with Dr. Starling…

“Damn it. Is that the time? I was supposed to go for my treatment a half hour ago – damn it, damn it.

“Uh… I should probably redact that from the final report. This is Analyst Brannon, signing off. Long live the Republic.”

*

ACCESSING RECENT DRAFTS... YOU HAVE ONE RECENT DRAFT. COMPOSED: 30 JULY 2191.

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“Hey guys, it’s me again. Violet. It feels kind of nice to use my own name for a change instead of being called ‘Specialist Huang’ all the time… I almost forgot to react to it once, though luckily Vázquez thought I was just focused on my work.

“Not a whole lot to report still – I’m still trying to figure out what it is the Regime is doing in these labs. It’s something to do with DNA methylation and synthesized NDMA proteins – well, I won’t bore you with the science, but why would the IGR be working on that? Could be they’re trying to develop a neural enhancer, but for what? I haven’t ruled out the possibility of there being some kind of link to the nanobots, but no-one here has mentioned nanites, and there are no nanotech specialists working in the lab.

“They keep us very siloed, too. I know what I’m working on, or at least what I have to do, but I don’t know why, and none of the people I work directly with seems to know what we’re developing here. Just something about a solution and blood cell samples. We might not even be the only lab working on this, which means I’ll have to find another way to get at the bigger picture.

“I spoke to Alvy a couple times – I was careful, Arkady, don’t worry. We didn’t manage to talk for long anyway – people don’t socialise much here. I’d kind of forgotten what it was like to work in this kind of environment, where no-one trusts anyone or lets their guard down, because people will backstab each other for the slightest thing. Maybe they had a professional disagreement, or don’t get along, or they wanted to get the credit for the other person’s work. It doesn’t take much of an insinuation to get someone transferred or – worse.

“Nothing’s happened, not yet, and it’s still nowhere near as bad as that student internship I did during the war. But it feels… tense, almost hair-trigger. I think I heard we’re having an inspection later on this week.

“Anyway, Alvy – I didn’t get to talk to him for very long, not just because of the environment, but because he had this headache come on the second time we talked. I’m not sure if it means anything – he said he gets them often. Brian, do you… remember him saying anything about that before?

“He seems a little different to the way I remember him on the Iris – a little more serious, less laid-back, though he’s still the friendliest person on the team. I didn’t… get to know him under the best circumstances, so I’m not sure if that’s due to the memory wipe or not.

“He also mentioned that he’s been seeing a doctor for these treatments – they all have. It could just be something to do with the away shuttle explosion, some kind of recovery program – there was an explosion, even if it didn’t really kill anyone, and Alvy’s got these – support struts in one of his legs, I think they’re carbon fibre. He walks with a slight limp sometimes.

“It could be nothing, but I feel like it might be worth digging into? Arkady, are you able to poke around in ADVANCE’s systems a bit, see if you can find anything that resembles medical reports?

“I’d better go. I brought my makeup bag in here as a cover for taking a bit longer – I don’t even know if the IGR has cameras in these apartments, but better to be safe than sorry – but there’s only so long you can take to put on the bare minimum I wear.

“Send me a message when you can. Violet Liu, out.”

*

ACCESSING RECENT DRAFTS... YOU HAVE ONE RECENT DRAFT. COMPOSED: 30 JULY 2191.

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“Hey, Liu. Good instincts on the medical treatment thing. I didn’t spot anything like that in my initial sweep of the system when I forged your interview and acceptance records, but I wasn’t on the lookout for it either.

“There’s a limit to what I can access without jacking directly into ADVANCE’s mainframe computer or piggybacking on their local network, but I’ll dig around as much as I can.” Jokingly: “ Worst comes to worst, we could always send Jeeter in with an earpiece and make him pose as a computer technician.

“Oh, also, Jeeter says he doesn’t remember Alvy ever mentioning any kind of migraines or head pain. Apparently he’d go on these all-night coding benders and then sleep for two hours and be completely fine the next morning. Maybe it caught up to him, but – well, I’m not gonna jump to any conclusions. I’ll see what I can find in the medical records.

“Also – be careful with the inspection, okay? Your ID will hold up, Campbell doesn’t skimp on the quality, and you look different enough from the physical description they have on file, but those Regime higher-ups will ask some weird shit to catch you out.

“You’ve got the comm if you need us for anything. Just… keep your head down.

“Arkady Patel, out.”

*

ACCESSING RECENT DRAFTS... YOU HAVE ONE RECENT DRAFT. COMPOSED: 31 JULY 2191.

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“Hey, Liu, listen. You were right. There’s something weird going on with these treatments.

“I managed to track down the medical records for the whole crew. Wasn’t easy, but I’ll save the tales of my security-defying exploits for another time. Anyway, I managed to hack into an account belonging to someone called Dr. Starling. They were brought onto ADVANCE’s payroll on June 1st – two days before the away shuttle exploded.

“There are files for all of them, and the scientific stuff doesn’t mean much to me, but from what I can tell, they’re monitoring them all for signs of what Starling calls ‘leakage’ – memories from their previous lives. Five of the other crew members have reported experiencing head pains, and it’s not a physical injury – Starling seems to think the pain is set off by them thinking back beyond a certain point, or being reminded of something from their past life. They upped the frequency of the ‘treatments’ to try and counter it, but so far it hasn’t worked.

“I think that’s what they’re for, the treatments – they’re keeping the crew’s memories suppressed. Which means, if they can be interfered with somehow…

“Bad news is, I can’t get into the scheduling system, not without access to the local network. But in Starling’s notes it says that Alvy was meant to come in for a treatment earlier today- well, yesterday technically, since it’s after 3am. But he didn’t show. So maybe you could get through to him.

“Obviously, don’t blow your cover, but if Alvy’s been getting these headaches a lot, it could mean he’s trying to remember? You said he got a headache when you guys talked – what were you talking about?”

A stifled yawn. “Shit, I’d better sleep, Sana wanted me to help encrypt some intel to send to Thasia and the other Violet Liu first thing in the morning. I’ll talk to you later. Arkady Patel out.”

*

ACCESSING RECENT DRAFTS... YOU HAVE ONE RECENT DRAFT. COMPOSED 31 JULY 2191.

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“Arkady, you’re a genius! Oh my god, I could kiss you.

“I’ve only skimmed the records you copied, but they make references to a solution that sounds a lot like the one we’re developing in the lab. What if that’s the answer? What if that’s what the IGR is having the crew develop, another version of the treatment – maybe one that’s more permanent…

“…Oh god, that’s so dark. They’re having the crew work on erasing their own memories. It’s so inhuman, so – exactly what the IGR would do.

“–I have to go, I’ve got work in half an hour, but – this really helps. And I’ll try to talk to Alvy today, see if he seems any different after his missed treatment. Violet Liu out.”

*

ACCESSING RECENT DRAFTS... YOU HAVE ONE RECENT DRAFT. COMPOSED: 31 JULY 2191.

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“You, uh—” The sound of awkward throat-clearing. “You are welcome. Yeah. Like I said, it’s uh, it’s what I do! So, no, uh thanks required. Though if you wanted to, I—

“Shit, I’ve gotta go, Sana needs me. Uh, Arkady Patel out.”

Read the rest here!

[pinkhairedlily]

Wanting Validations

Chapter 5 of The Spring He Came Back | 5 of 12

“Momo, don’t forget your bento,” Baba called out just before Hinamori dashed towards her bicycle. She grabbed the two packed bento from her grandmother and pecked her cheek.

“I’ll try my best to give this to Hitsugaya today.” She was having trouble finding Hitsugaya without being caught by professors and other supervisors. “He’s gonna miss out on the fresh watermelon slices you packed in otherwise.”

Despite their staggered meetings, she found herself in high spirits. Dr. Aizen has continued to depend on her more, even letting her write a draft for a book section. She wasn’t sure if she had the qualifications to write such. She was only finishing her first semester, but the professor tempered her self-doubts with assurances.

“I don’t know if you ever noticed this, Hinamori. You’re a fast learner. You have the highest grades in your section, even above the upper middle-class folk,” Dr. Aizen handed her a large bulk of papers. “These are some designs I’m planning to use for my large-scale project next year. Go through them and annotate for me, would you?”

She was continuously yawning until she reached the academy. She glanced at the clock tower in the middle of the campus grounds and figured she can slip in a quick nap before her morning classes. She was busy deciphering the documents in the past few weeks to the point that she would sometimes go without sleep.

“I think I have a migraine,” Momo grumbled to herself. “Dr. Aizen should be consistent with his handwriting. The varying strokes in each document are like sending me on an acid trip.”

“What sends you into an acid trip?” Hitsugaya popped in behind her, dressed in the flashy, identifying grabs of a Soul member. He reached out to grab her arm and led her through a narrow alley between the buildings.

“Hey, good morning Shirou,” Momo said sarcastically while trying to match his steps. They arrived in front of a small almost-dilapidated room. “Are you gonna murder me?”

“Maybe, do you want me to shower you with yellow petals?” he joked. The room inside was definitely not worn down. The three Rs were there but were all asleep in bunk beds. Rukia and Renji sleeping together in the lower bunk with backs behind each other. That made Hinamori blush until she remembered Hitsugaya saying they were also childhood friends. Rangiku was passed out in the upper bunk with a subtle smell of alcohol.

“I see your nostrils twitching. Rangiku needs alcohol sometimes to power through her exams,” he gestured for me to sit on a day bed on the corner of the room.

“What is this?” Hinamori asked, feeling a little slow because she was only able to get two hours of sleep. She sat beside him and controlled the urge to close her eyes.

“It’s an escape dungeon. They think this is the sleeping quarters of the custodians, which of course is, but they rented it out to us.” Seeing Momo settled, he started to fill the nearby kettle to boil some water. “Did you get converted into a coffee addict or are you still my tea-loving friend Momo?”

“Black tea please.” Momo smiled at him. “How erratic are your schedules? Our class is about to start in one hour.”

He glanced at her, smirking. “How erratic is your schedule? Your eyebags are heavier than mine. Oh, is that a bento?”

“Baba made this. It has watermelon inside.” At such an opportune moment, Hitsugaya’s stomach grumbled. “Come on, let’s eat together like the good old days.”

She thought he was about to grab his bento box, but he reached out across her, their faces looming closer to each other. “Why don’t you sneak in some snoozes while I eat?” He was arranging the pillows behind her.

Hinamori woke up to the school bells ringing, a flurry of robes, and cacophony of curses. Slightly disoriented, she found herself waking up from Hitsugaya’s lap who was frozen red in his place, the empty bento box on the table beside him and a gray flask. How she got to that position she will never know because panic started to set in.

“Good morning, Hinamori!” Renji and Rukia both yelled before running through the door.

“Gotta go, childhood friends. Gotta thank you Histugaya. Renting this place primarily to see Hinamori and secondarily for us to rest is genius,” Rangiku said as she traipsed outside.

“Fuck,” Hitsugaya muttered under his breath, truly embarrassed. “Here’s your black tea Momo. Tell Baba her bento gave me the energy I needed.” He handed her the gray flask without meeting her eyes. “You gotta go, although your classroom’s much nearer.”

Still disoriented, she started towards the exit. Remembering a nagging question in her mind, she halted and glanced back at him, “Shirou-chan.”

“Hmm?” He still wasn’t meeting her gaze.

“How did you preserve the daffodils? It was below zero temperatures that week. Frost would have already killed them.”

This time he looked at her. “I just sprayed them with a solution I made, Momo. But I know you would have found a way to alter them naturally.”

Hitsugaya always has this weird way of validating her. His trust in her abilities has grown so much despite the time that they were apart. She wanted to honor that. “Thank you.”

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

It has soon become their morning routine – Hinamori with her bento boxes that soon included the rest of the group, Hitsugaya with the black tea for her and coffee for the rest, and few minutes of snooze on the sofa slash day bed. It wasn’t as if they haven’t slept beside each other since they were kids, but the slight reprieve was something to look forward to. They would be able to slip in mundane conversations in between, but almost often Hinamori would doze off in the middle of Hitsugaya’s rants. She has fully exchanged her nights with sleepless annotations for the experiment designs. She knew Dr. Aizen was ambidextrous, but it bothered her that the blueprints and guides frequently changed handwriting styles, and the discussion structures varied. Well, it couldn’t be helped that the professor’s thoughts ran too wildly that his hands were barely able to keep up. By the end of the semester, she was able to finish the book section, submit the annotations with her own suggestions for recalibration, and top her class.

“I think it was only a matter of time, Hinamori.” Rangiku quickly stole Hitsugaya’s sandwich from his hands and sat across them in their (open) secret hideout.

“What is?” Hinamori resisted the urge to clean the room. Printouts were sprawled everywhere, coffee stains on beds and tables, and a lot of instant ramen packs. While general admission students have the benefit of semestral break, the core Soul group tended to be occupied with competitions, conferences, and exhibits abroad. Hitsugaya’s group will be traveling to Karakura next week to compete against the infamous Ishida Uryuu, a prodigy of optics in physics.

“Why don’t you make your own sandwich Rangiku?” Hitsugaya grunted as he downed the last bit of his coffee and decided to lie down on the day bed behind his childhood friend’s sitting figure. After a minute or two, he started to snore.

“Your membership to the core group, of course. Hard to miss your superb accomplishments,” Rangiku replied. “Your radiant personality is also a plus. That would make it easier to hang out with us.”

Hinamori blushed at the compliment. “Thanks, Rangiku, but I really doubt I’ll get in.” The gap in expertise and intellect between core and general admission students was assumed to be wide enough to hinder friendships between the two groups, but she never felt that way with them. Granted that she was Hitsugaya’s friend, they never reacted strongly to her addition. It was true however that there was a gap. What inherent genius they have been born with, she compensated with hard work.

“Wish us luck though. I hate to see the bastard Ichigo smirking if we fail in the exhibit.” She’d be exaggerating, but veins really started to pulse around Renji’s temples.

“Stupid, there’s no if. We won’t fail. As if I’d let Ishida rub his win over my dead body,” Rukia interjected with the intensity of her competitiveness. She turned to Hinamori with an embarrassed smile. “Well, the deliberation will probably happen over the break. With us out in Karakura, they’d probably not look much into your relationship with Hitsugaya or with us.”

“Apparently, according to the academy’s standards, friendships are not meritorious. Such a stupid rule,” Renji added. This was the reason why they avoided letting both students and professors see them together. Only Dr. Aizen knew of their friendship. He made her feel like she could trust him with her secrets.

As if Rangiku read her mind, she quipped, “You’ve been meeting Dr. Aizen lately, right Hinamori?”

“I volunteered as his research assistant. The professor has a lot of projects with the academy so I do my best to ease the load.”

“How many projects is he handling?”

“He has five large-scale projects programmed for this year.”

“And he’s doing it solo? Wow, that’s a lot of work and a lot of funding.”

“Thank God for the investors, I guess.”

“If you get accepted as a core member, he would lose a great RA,” Renji assured her. A big question mark was probably on her face because he immediately expounded his statement. “Core members are expected to complete projects on their specialization. If you’re as genius as the midget sleeping over there or Rukia’s brother, you can complete as many as you like. But most of the time, we work in groups like how professors work together too.”

Rukia aided him, “What Renji is trying to say, you won’t have the time to help Dr. Aizen anymore.”

A foreign feeling crept along her insides. Over the years, she has mastered the act of hiding her emotions with a nonchalant smile, and she did this now to brush off three pairs of probing eyes. Confusing emotions from the conversation accompanied her to the semestral break party organized by her section. Balloons and streamers decorated the interior of their go-to ramen house. The owner, enamored with the boisterous students, provided free-flowing broth and discounted noodles refill. Several of her classmates tapped her on the shoulder and congratulated her for landing on the top.

In the midst of jovial cacophony, she felt untethered. Needing the space to rationalize her thoughts, she quietly slipped out of the party and traced her steps back to the academy. She was floating in-between circles, trying to walk beside her friend and at the same time, trying to make sense of who she was and what she wanted to be. Her memories brought her back to her first conversation with Dr. Aizen where she truly felt seen and needed.

But she was spending her days playing catch up to someone who doesn’t need her. Did she really want to join the core group to realize her dreams or did she want to join simply because of Toshirou? She found herself in front of Dr. Aizen’s office. “Professor.”

The door opened, revealing a disheveled glass-less Aizen. His furrowed brows immediately softened when he saw her. “Hinamori, come in.”

Hinamori hesitated because she didn’t know why she went to his office in the first place and what she wanted to talk about. But she stepped in anyway without further prodding, afraid to disappoint him. “Professor, I-“

“I saw your annotations, and I appreciated the suggestions for calibrations. You made my job much easier, Hinamori. You brought these projects closer to completion at a much earlier date.” He brushed his fingers through his brown hair and sighed contentedly. “But I need you to do one more thing for me. It’s very urgent, and only you can do it.”

Warmth coursed through her body. He trusted her well enough to do this. “Anything for you, Dr. Aizen.”

He quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to her. It was a description of a notebook– plain black cover, velvet finish, coffee-stained surfaces, and the first few pages ripped out. “It’s my long-lost notebook. I’ve searched everywhere, but I cannot find it. Maybe you can look through the libraries.”

“It will be difficult, Professor, given the broad description, but I will not let you down.”

“Of course, Hinamori. I know you too well already. You exceed my expectations. Do find it quickly for our funders. They are expecting me to complete the study over the break.”

“Over the break! That’s short notice, Dr. Aizen. You need to rest!” she complained. Embarrassed of her outburst, she covered her face with her small hands, flushing red at her visible concern towards her mentor. “I mean, please think of your health Sir.”

The brown-haired doctor looked at her incredulously and placed his hands on her shoulders. “I really lucked out with you, Hinamori. Why are you here again? Do you need to tell me something?”

She peeked at him through her fingers but found she can’t return his steady gaze. Straying her eyes to the floor, she requested, “Please deny my membership to the core group, Sir. I want to stay by your side more.” All of her senses were overwhelming her because of his close proximity and the comfortable weight of his large hands on her shoulders. Her emotions may have gone into override when he pulled her into a hug.

“Of course, Hinamori. You’re my one and only precious research assistant.”

She found the notebook the following day in the same library where she and Hitsugaya used to go, conveniently so as it was positioned beside her most borrowed ecology book. It was a tattered piece of document, but the experiment design and the parameters set were the first of their kind. She brought it immediately to Dr. Aizen and suggested to patent it. “You could name the methodology after you, Professor. Or better if it’s a theory – Aizen Laws on Ecological Succession or something.”

“Aren’t you a doll? You always say the most interesting things.”

With the set deadline for this particular study, Hinamori agreed to accompany the professor in a fieldwork on a mountain outside of town for a week. She would be back in time for Baba’s birthday.

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

She didn’t make it back in time. She got stuck with Dr. Aizen for two weeks in the mountain because he needed to repeat his sampling, not that she regretted it. Baba will understand. I expect she’ll be angry for a few days, but I’ll make it up to her. I just missed one birthday after all.

What she didn’t expect was Hitsugaya standing guard under the camphor tree, worried, angry, and defiant at the same time.

“Where the fuck did you go, Momo?”

NEXT CHAPTER | 6 OF 12 | IN RETROSPECT

[fenheart87]

manikin

Lukanette 2020 Exchange piece For @the-alice-of-hearts, enjoy! 

Marinette was on a mission,step outside of her comfort zone and again echoed by her technical design professor to be more daring and assertive and bold. She needed to round out her styles and portfolio as much as she could to make herself a more attractive candidate for any applications she submitted or even just expanding her online commissions and bulking her portfolio that way if she chose to start out on her own. It was difficult to just be set in one style and make it big when just starting. Mari figured that she would explore as much as she could before committing to one genre or style, it would keep her far from being burnt out like some of her fellow classmates.

“Hey Nathaniel! Have you seen Juleka?” She called out, walking a bit faster to the redhead who waited for her to join him.

“She was around this morning but I haven’t seen her since. Have you tried calling or texting her?”

“Yup, nothing but silence though. I’m out of touch with everyone’s schedules the more time goes by.”

“Is she complaining she can’t be super Mari and be our everyday ladybug again?” Marc teased, sneaking up and poking the shorter girl’s sides resulting in a squeal.

“Marc!” She smacked a red clad shoulder before they disappeared behind their boyfriend. “Stop doing that!”

“Stop making it so easy?” Nathaniel offered, smirking at Mari’s adorable pout.

“I hate you. I really do. Welp, if Juleka is busy and you’re both too shy to play model and dress up and have proof of it, I guess I need to find a model.”

“I’m pretty much free if you need a mannequin, class ends at three for me this week.” Marc offered kindly, green eyes peeping over Nathaniel’s shoulder.

“Oh wonderful! I found another sample fabric I wanted to try for you!” She did her jump and hip shimmy, ignoring the giggles.

“Only exception being Thursday, that’s date night this week.”

“Fine, have your boyfriend Marc on Thursday, I get your girlfriend Michelle the rest of the week. See you later!” Mari dashed away, giggling as the bright red spots on Marc’s cheeks.

After walking around campus and deciding against searching too far as she still had classes, she was no closer to finding her muse model but it did nothing to dampen her good mood. It was a sign that meant she would just have to explore the in and outs further and stay away from her usual haunts. Instead of using her eyes she decided to let her ears guide her, Marinette glanced around a few times and focused on conversations instead of what people were wearing, hearing the emotions in their voices. With the new mindset, carefully the young designer wandered around and sketched some expressions, new emotions to craft into fabric choices and color schemes to make them come alive as clothing to wear the emotion plain as day. There was a ton of laughter and giggles around her until she got closer to the library. The sound of a guitar drew her in like a sirens song.

Marinette needed a break from all the walking and climbing she had done so far and decided to stop by the library for the few books she had on hold. Skirting around the cliques that hugged the stairs more often than naught, the petite designer made her way into the library. Seeing Max working the check out desk, Marinette bee lined for him, smiling wide enough to crinkle eyes just slightly.

“Marinette, how are you today?” Max greeted, shuffling books around to scan them and write the names on the cards for the reserved items.

“I should have a few books on hold, all fashion related of course, there was one that was checked out but if you could see if it’s been returned?”

“Sure thing, book title, author or DEWY code?”

“There’s several, here’s my card.” Marinette held it out for Max to scan, rocking on heels slightly to a rhythm she could hear every time the door opened.

“Ah yes, you have five reserved and it looks like two have not been checked back on yet. Would you like me to check the return bin?” Max asked, finding the appropriate stack of books and setting them on the counter.

“Yes please, even if we can find one more that makes it easier to study and hopefully pass with flying colors.”

“Fashion has always been a huge part of you Marinette, as long as your heart is in it then you’ll pass with flying colors.” Max smiled at the rare blush on the young woman’s face, “I’ll check the returns for you, be right back.

Marinette breathed deeply to calm her sudden nerves, her friend’s unwavering faith in her abilities always managed to take the designer off guard but she wouldn’t change any of them for the world. While waiting, she filled out the cards for the books in the pile to make Max’s job easier but kept getting distracted by the wonderful music that kept sneaking through.

“I managed to find both luckily, if you could fill these out then you free to chase whatever has you so distracted.” The glint from his glasses made Marinette squeak in embarrassment as being caught.

“Thanks Max!” Quickly she stuffed the books in her backpack and marched at a reasonable pace to the door and only let out the breath she was holding once outside.

Students shuffled to and from the library, stopping to chat quietly or bask in the music for a moment before continuing their way. The solo guitarist was the center of attention, playing a mix of old and new songs. The overall genre seemed to be with the intent to soothe stressed students and teachers alike as they passed by, Marinette could feel herself relaxing and her creative block lifting. Deciding to obey her muse, the slim young woman snagged a bench that was being vacated by a couple who had finished their coffees. Unsure how much time had passed, the designer lost herself to the world of inspiration, completing outlines with notes and vague sketches with the knowledgeable experience telling her to be swift and flesh then out later.

The music had become a soft and sweet ballad, just hovering in the background for anyone to notice or ignore if they were passing by. Marinette took a quick glance at her outlines and notes, polishing little things or rewriting fabric choices, her eyes fell to the musician that she could finally see and she froze. This was exactly what she was looking for, his expression spoke of calm but hid the slight anxiety every time he started a new song. When he suddenly changed tunes and a couple stopped fighting because the music took over made his lips quirk in a faint grin. His clothes were made to blend in, ripped jeans and combat boots topped with a plain Jagged tee and lightweight layered Hoodie. That did absolutely nothing to help hide his hair with the blue tips, was that a tongue ring?! Marinette felt the need to sketch and design and she had to see what color his eyes were.

Swiftly but carefully she put away her supplies and made her way to the musician that was quietly packing away his guitar and removing the tips from his case. The designer caught his attention and when the weight of gaze met hers, Marinette just blurted out what came to mind.

“You’re hot, can I undress you?” With a squeak, she smacked her face with her sketchpad and took a few deep lungs full of air. “I’m sorry! I want your clothes- I just, you were playing and sound sexy- GOOD SOUND! I really like you- YOUR  style it’s mysterious but like nice- I really want to undress you- I mean I-!”

“Deep breaths.” His melodic voice cut through her anxiety like a hot knife to butter. “I’m Luka.”

“Ma-ma-Marinette!”

“Nice to meet your Ma-ma-Marinette. You’re an artist too?” He nodded causally to her sketchbook.

“Yes. Fashion designer. Project.” Few more deep breaths. “I need to branch out and try a new style and I usually create women’s clothes. So my professor told me to challenge myself and your music inspired me and when I looked at you, you’re perfect. That is- I mean, if you wouldn’t mind being my model?”

“So do I get to undress myself or is that your job?” Luka teased with a grin, causing Marinette to hide her face again with a squeak. “I have a crazy schedule but I’d love to help.”

“I have time on Tuesdays from two to five, Thursdays from five to seven and Saturdays after the morning rush so more like three or four to eight.” She rattled off, pulling out her planner to his amusement.

“Okay I’ll have to check my schedule, two of my classes are up in the air. How about we exchange phone numbers and then I can text you what’s my schedules going to look like? It changes week to week.”

“Most musicians do it seems, one of my best friends is a DJ and he takes all kinds of gigs so it’s hard to sit down and catch up.” They traded phones and saved their numbers before swapping back. “Some of this we can do via Skype if needed, you have to be comfortable with the design too and just wearing it to help my grade.”

“Seems like you’ve done this before.” Luka stuffed his phone into his pocket and packed away his guitar, shouldering his case.

“Fashion student, too broke for mannequins so I lure in unsuspecting folk with delicious free pastries from the best bakery in town.” She teased with a huge grin.

“Well then, I look forward to those pastries.”

Waving, they went their separate ways and Marinette had a skip in her step that had been missing due to the stress. Texting her other friends that were her usual models but this time with ideas of clothing to compliment the designs she had drafted for Luka. Everyone had a positive response and she had just enough people for a full collection, Marinette was sure to blow this project out of the water.

- - - 

Luka stared down at his phone with a smile. As far as first impressions go, he didn’t think negatively of Marinette. It was easy for the musician to recognize the spark of creativity making her blue bells shine and the dark circles the byproduct of sleepless nights from the muse keeping her awake to do her bidding. Her song was the dead giveaway, it was beautiful but unfinished with the crash of crescendos and decrescendos in spots, showing she was afraid to stay loud and bold.

“That had better not be another cat meme.” Juleka muttered, sliding into the booth across from him.

“Nope, I just got asked to undress for a pretty cute girl.”

“What girl wants to see you naked?”

“Not naked, she wants to dress me up.” Luka corrected, waving the waitress over so they could order. “Caramel cappuccino and one hot fudge vanilla shake.”

“Design student or art student?” Luka had no trouble hearing his sisters mumbles, even over the din of the coffee-shop.

“Design student, I guess she felt a good vibe with the music I was playing and she got bit by the creative bug.”

“Not the only one that got bit.” Juleka smiled innocently as the waitress set down their drink orders. “When’s your first fitting?”

“I don’t know, I told Marinette I would text her my schedule for the week once I figure it out.

"Well them, you had better bring me back an eclair and a chocolatine, try the macaroons.” With that cryptic advice, Juleka took her drink and left her brother confused. A ding from his phone had him opening a picture of a very familiar face forwarded from his sister.

Is this the ‘go get em tiger high-five from you?

You hurt her and you’ll answer to your future sister-in-law.

Thanks for the vote of confidence.

[kinetic-elaboration]

100 Days of Writing: Days Twenty-Two - Twenty-Four

Going to try to catch up on at least a few of these 100 Days of Writing Questions. Not going to talk about specific fics because I’ve gotten distracted by work and life and stress and being tired so I haven’t done any writing this week, and decreasing amounts of thinking about writing. Mostly just obsessively thinking about old projects and tying myself into knots about them... The creative process continues to intimidate me WAY too much. Not good lol.

Tagging @the-wip-project and fellow participants @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold, @thelittlefanpire​ @hopskipaway​ @easilydistractedbyfanfic @dylanobrienisbatman.

22. Tell us about a scene you’re most looking forward to writing in your current project. 

For the Sleeping Beauty AU: ...the last one? So it’s done? That’s probably a really bad answer and too indicative of my negative feelings.

More specifically, I do want to start on Chapter 6. I planned Chapter 5 so long ago, and it’s been in limbo for so long, at this point there’s not a lot of big-picture creative thinking going on with it. It’s just me writing out the plot points I decided on ages ago, which feels like (and possibly reads like) a slog. I’ve had a few new thoughts about it but not many. Chapter 6 was also outline ages ago, but in a much more general way... basically just me figuring out if I could actually bring it to a conclusion, really general plot strokes and so on. The most excitement I’ve felt for this fic this year was me figuring out some new ideas for that outline and picturing some specifics for scenes in it, so it would be nice if I could actually write that and see how that works out. Plus, those scenes have some different characters in them, which might be nice.

That said, I’ll probably freak out about actually writing Ch 6 too.

Outside of Sleeping Beauty...I don’t even know what I’m looking forward to or what I want. I’ve been mentally poking at some possible projects, ideas, old stuff and new. I can’t really say these thoughts are “fun.” But maybe something nice will come of them at some point. It’s so hard for me to TRUST any excitement I feel because there’s some dumb voice in my head that always says “You think this seems like a good idea now but you’ll avoid actually writing it because it will be too hard and then you’ll harshly judge it and probably hate it so what’s the point?”

Wow I’m really down today. A real downer on this positive question.

23. Have you ever read a thing in a book or seen in a show/movie where you thought: "Oh, this is bad, I can do this so much better!" What was it?

....Well. I mean one answer is that I don’t engage in fandom if I’m 100% happy or satisfied with the canon because then I don’t need transformative works. At this point I’m SO critical of my main fandom that I’ve gone too far in the opposite direction, I think...there’s no longer that balance of critique and love.

I feel like that’s not what this question is about, though.

The only experience I can think of that really fits this, and actually fits it really well, is watching STB. I love the AOS verse as a whole and I find it very inspiring (I’ve never written TOS because it’s too good and I’m afraid haha), but the only movie that’s actually good is ST09. And Beyond is like.....really, really bad. But there are only 3 films so like... I gotta watch it sometimes, there aren’t a lot of options.

So last February my mom (who is in fandom and knows I’m in fandom too) and my friend B (who afaik is not in transformative works fandom), and I watched Beyond together over Skype and afterwards my mom and I basically rewrote the whole film. It does have some good ideas! But wow does it suck at executing them at literally every turn. So glad people were paid huge amounts of money to produce S**** P***’s first draft submitted at dawn after an all nighter lmao. Anyway, we fixed it problem by problem and I saved all the notes and a part of me kinda.... wants to turn it into a whole-ass outline and then write it, fic-style. A dream!! A dream.

24. Have you ever read a thing in a book or seen in a show/movie where you thought: "Oh, this is good, I'm gonna steal that!" What was it?

Not anything specific-specific, but I’m basically mining everything from RL experiences and moods to books and tv and movies and music, for inspiration at all times, so in general, yes. Usually, I’ll watch (or read) something that I really like and that makes me feel a certain way and I think “I want to create something else that will make me--and others--feel just this way.” Like “that was a good, creepy atmosphere in that film. I want to write something creepy too.” Or “oh the nostalgia of adolescence! let’s write a high school AU.” Basically just a childlike scream of “I want to do it too!!! Let me play too!!”

I also do this to some degree with themes... like I finished Roadside Picnic and pretty much immediately stole the concept of the final chapter for a fic I planned out but didn’t write. Part of the reason I didn’t write it was intimidation at attempting to come at the same question/concept in an even halfway decent way--even though the point wasn’t to copy but to engage in a different and deeper way with the original text. Like, it gave me so many thoughts, I wanted to get into those thoughts using, instead of a discussion or a piece of meta/essay writing, a different fictional universe. In other words, some works make me really engage in a particular question and I want to think more deeply on that question in an entirely new fictional story I write myself.

I really do have a long habit of engaging with art through other art but I feel like I’m...losing that a little, in the sense that barriers like a hyper-critical attitude and low self esteem are keeping me from doing that right now. I could describe it a million different ways but basically... I don’t believe I can do it, so I psyche myself out.

[oknstark]

The Bet - Thor x Fem!Reader

HOLY MOLLY! I dissapeared like a year but I’M BACK, BITCHES! Ok, this was something here on my drafts. Let’s keep the Thor love bc he deserves it. EG never happened, ok? OK?! I’m still sobbing for the movie ;; Also I might be writing more for marvel and other fandoms, who knows.

Summary: Tony and Natasha have beein seeing you and Thor distant relationship. He thinks is full of sexual tension, and the spy thinks you do not get allong that well. This leads them to make a bet about you both, guess who wins this time?

Warnings: SMUT! As always, not new lmao. Language. Unprotected sex (use condom, kids!). And my first language is not english, forgive my mistakes pls.

Word count: 2,345

MASTERLIST

Tony narrowed his eyes, arms crossed on his chest, as he watched you drying off the sweat from your face with a towel. You and Steve have just finished your training, and Thor was far away from you both. As he was a god, literally, he used to train mostly with Steve, but this particulary time he refused.

He was some feet away from you and Steve, sitting on a bench and looking at the ceilling like it was the most interesting thing around the place. Tony rolled his eyes, as Thor clearly was avoiding you. He knew it and didn't need to ask to do so.

"So," Natasha came by his side, at the window that lead the sight of the gym. "She's doing great?" she asked.

"She's always doing great" Tony answered, not even looking at the spy. "Thor, on the other way, not too much..."

Natasha furrowed her eyebrows. "Why?"

"Look, Steve and Y/N are talking. They're fine, they're friends, they trust each other" he said, pointing out at the scene: you and Steve were laughing at the other corner of the gym. "And now, look at Thor: he refused to train with them, he usually trains only with Steve, so her presence is not that pleasant for him."

"And what's your point?"

"He likes her."

The redhead bursted into a laugh and shook her head, gaining a look from the man. "Really?"

"Well, I sense a lot of sexual tension between them everytime they're together" he shruggred.

"Sometimes I think they don't get along too well" Natasha commented. "I mean, we're a team, but they just seem like mates, not friends."

"Sexual tension" he whispered.

Natasha sighed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as well. "Do you really want to do this?" she looked at him, lifting an eyebrow. A playful smile on her face.

"Fifty bucks they will give into each other this week."

"Deal."

***

The next day, Tony walked around the tower to the massive office near the lab. He saw Thor very focused on a tablet, not even paying attention to his presence, and curiously you were there too. Far away from the god, on the other side of the room, sitting on a desk and doing paperwork. Tony left his files on the same table Thor was sitting on and an idea came across his mind. With a grin on his face, he walked to stay by Thor's side.

"What are you doing, goldielocks?" he asked, pretending he was interested on his task.

Thor lifted his gaze to Tony. "I was just figuring out how this works, actually" he said, with low voice. "And also that thing we always do after a mission..."

"The report?"

"Yeah" he nodded.

"Oh, well I think someone would like to help with that" Tony smiled, and his eyes were directly to you on the corner of the office, searching for something on the drawers. He was very near to make it up for his winning over Natasha.

You started walking to the door, report on your hands, when Tony's voice stopped you.

"Y/N, hey, would you mind to help Thor on his report?" he said, Thor furrowed his brows at his sudden action. "You know, he has some difficulties to adjust this kind of stuff."

"Um, yeah" you answered and blinked stunned. "No problem. I just have to give this to Banner and I will be right back to-"

"Oh, I'll give it to him!" Tony walked around the table and took the files from your hands, not letting you finish. "Good luck!" he patted you on the shoulder softly and winked at you before leaving the office. You stayed there, confused and blinked again. It was so fast.

You sighed. "Okay, so..." you turned to see Thor, still sitting on the table. "You need help with the report?" you asked, getting near to him slowly.

He saw you and his gaze made you kind of uncomfortable. You put back a lock of hair behind your ear, feeling the tension you always sensed every time you were left alone with him. You didn't know if it was only you, but inside, Thor felt it too.

He stirred on his seat, and cleared his throat. "Yes, sometimes I forgot I have to do this, so..."

"Well, this place stresses me out so, if you want we can go to another room" you suggested. "And we can work there" you added, playing with your hands. You gave him a tiny smile, trying to hide your nervousness.

Thor agreed and then you both walked out of the main office. You took him to your floor, on the office you used to work on your own projects. It was a little messy, counting on the fact that you were currently working on an AI, so there was papers and blueprints everywhere.

"Sorry for the mess" you apologized, making space on the main table, taking some notebooks and files to a desk at the corner of the room. You turned around to see him, looking around to your projects as he never have been there. You attracted his attention when you talked. "So, how can I help you?"

***

Natasha walked to the lab to submit her report for the last mission. Her only task was leave it on the main table and then leave, but as Tony saw her walking inside, he knew he had to tease her about their bet.

"Hey, Nat, guess what" he smiled at her, saving his last hologram on the computer. "I already make to get close."

Natasha turned around and walked besides his table, curious. "How?" she crossed her arms.

"Well, Thor is not good with these report stuff so I made Y/N help him."

She gasped, a playful smile on her face. "That's cheating!"

"I never said it was wrong if I would bring them together" Tony shrugged from his seat.

Natasha shook her head. "You are unbelievable" she said, before leaving the lab.

"I'll win!" Tony yelled to her, at the same time Bruce was entering the lab again. "Just know that!"

"Know what?" he asked.

Tony went back to his work. "That Y/N and Thor will sleep together today."

"That wasn't something I needed to know" Bruce whispered more to himself.

Sometimes Tony was too much to handle.

***

"I still don't understand why we have to do this" Thor muttered, as you wrote down on the page another paragraph for his report. It was like the fourth sentence he speaked since he arrived to your office an hour ago.

You were sitting next to him, which didn't help so much, considering that you had to put a lot of effort to grab the pen strongly to not tremble in front of him. The sweat was appearing on your skin, and you didn't know if it was because of him or just the weather was so hot to do so.

You turned your gaze to him. "Anything else you would like to add?" you asked. Your voice almost shaking for the closeness. At this near, you could see every feature on his face and it just made you feel more attracted to him. Yeah, maybe that was why you felt so awkward being alone with him. And inside you thought he would never feel the same thing. It was mere physical attraction and nothing more.

Eventually Thor said no to your question, but he was more focused on you and how you moved around him. It was different. He noticed it. You were nervous around him every time you used to talk with him, which were just few times. And he grew up to just see you from afar and devore you with his own imagination, as he noticed your behavior towards him. At the end, it wasn't too different coming from him. He was also attracted to you.

He saw your cleaveage as you sorted the pages on the folder for him, and how your hands worked on it in a delicate way. He licked his lips and his breathing became heavy. He didn't know how such simple activity you made had an effect on him. A very hard one.

"Ok, so I think we're all set here," you said, smiling a bit. You handed the report to the blonde god. "You should go up and leave on the main office, so Tony can send it."

"Thank you, Y/N," Thor said, standing up at the same time you did.

"Anytime."

You followed Thor to the door, and he was about to step outside, but something on him just made him stop. You frowned, wondering what happened, but he just turned around to see you one more time.

"Can I just make something?" he asked, in a low voice.

You lifted your brows at him. "Like what?"

Thor didn't answer. He just left the papers on your desk and in a swift motion, he was in front of you.

"Thor, are you-"

The blonde god smashed his lips against yours. It was a shy kiss at first, but you gasped to let him continue and cupped his cheeks with your hands. Thor traced the curve of your neck with his fingers, feeling your pulse and how your heart beat faster because of him.

The blonde god smashed his lips against yours. It was a shy kiss at first, but you gasped to let him continue and cupped his cheeks with your hands. Thor traced the curve of your neck with his fingers, feeling your pulse and how your heart beat faster because of him. You broke the kiss, panting and trying to recover your breath.

"That was it?" you whispered against his lips.

Thor nodded. "I'm sorry if I-"

"Thor, I really like you. Like really, I do," you confessed. "But I, I didn't know that you feel the same."

You looked at his face, and saw all the lust and how his eyes darkened more. You kissed him one more time.

"Are you ok with this?" he asked.

"I am, are you?"

Thor smirked and gave you a steamy kiss. You moaned on his lips, while your hands roamed all over his bare arms and his body. The god groaned when he felt your fingers tracing his covered lenght trough his pants. Moments later, you took his hand and walked to the couch on the place. Thor sat down and you straddled him, kissing him back one more time.

His big hands wandered on your breasts, pinching at your hard nipples; and he caressed your hips, while you moved on his crotch, creating friction. You were so wet by now, and you were still covered with your pants and your tank top.

Thor got rid of your clothes soon, and you helped him to do the same at a fast pace. You both were so eager, devouring at each other. When you were fully bare, his fingers traced your slit, feeling your wetness, as you stroke his dick with your hand. God, he was so hard.

He made his way with one finger on your cunt, pushing in and out slowly. That made you more eager for him. Thor pulled out then and you aligned yourself with his lenght, both letting out a moan as you lowered your hips on his dick. Your ass touching his thighs by now, he was so deep burried inside you.

You moved on a slowly motion, his hands grabbing strongly your hips and his eyes wandered on your face. Your lips open a little, making little noises. His hips bucked to feel you even more, and your arms went around his neck. You let out a moan when he touched your sweet spot and clenched around him.

"Oh god," you whispered on his ear.

Thor started to thrust faster, trying to reach his peak. He was so close, and your mouth close to his ear, moaning wasn't helping him to hold back. You were even hotter than all his fantasies and dreams he had about you.

He reached your clit, rubbing it with his fingers as you moved up and down to meet his hips. His pace was becoming erratic as he thrusted in a desperate way. You clenched one more time around his cock, and you came with a moan. A couple of movements more, Thor exploded inside you with a groan, while you milked him, wanting to get everything from him.

Both of you stopped moving. You stayed still with your foreheads touching for a couple of minutes. Your hand caressed his features, while his fingers traced your cheek lovingly, looking directly to your eyes. You then pulled out his lenght from you, watching how his cum leaked down on your thighs. Thor's hand moved to touch your sensitive clit and your slit.

"That was hot," Thor said, kissing you.

"Next round?" you smirked.

***

BONUS

"My fucking god, I hate you so much," Natasha muttered.

With her arms crossed, the readhead was looking at you and Thor on the kitchen, sitting on the bar so close to each other. Shit, you were almost devouring yourselves!

"Told ya," Tony said, smiling wide.

The spy rolled her eyes back and handed him the money.

"I can't believe it happened!" Natasha exclaimed. "We made the bet this morning, how could you?"

"Intuition" he shrugged and saved the bills on his pocket. "Now if you excuse me..."

Tony walked on the kitchen, smiling. He just won, and he knew he was. It was imposible not to see the tension between you two. That, or people was so stupid to do so.

"Hey, kids do not spill your liquids on the table. We all eat here."

You and Thor broke your kiss and you laughed at the playboy.

"Don't worry, this is not as interesting as the gym," you joked.

"Ok, now I need to erase that tape," he responded, grabbing a soda and finally left.

It seems that you and Thor together became a problem for him.

[universallywriting]

Drive Home

Steven's breath puffed in the air as he came to sit beside her, feet crunching in the frost and pine needles. He was glad they'd planned it the way they did, just cold enough so the Rocky Mountains were dusted with snow. Specks of brown and green covered the mounds that swallowed up the horizon, towering and beautiful, almost touchably close and endlessly far at the same time. Pine trees circled close around them, boulders jutting up from the earth, and he came to sit down on one beside Connie with a smile.

It was odd up in the mountains. Occasionally hikers would pass them by, or a family of tourists, but off the more well-worn trails that was rare. It was still odd for Steven, who so rarely traveled, to see so many people pass him by that he didn’t know the names of. So often he felt like he should see Buck’s familiar deadpan face, or hear Jenny’s laugh from one of the people that passed him by.

But the only familiar face was Connie’s. The thermos of tea he had brought her was hot in the metal flask. When they drove lower, he would switch back to her favorite black teas, carefully measured with swirls of honey and just the right kind of milk to make her smile. But high up in the mountains, the water didn’t boil hot enough.

Just thinking of her face the first morning she’d tried to make them both tea at 10,000 feet was enough to make him smile. The weak brew had made her nose wrinkle up in confusion, baffled at her perfectly measured cup failing, before she burst into giggles and explained the correlation between how water boiled and the altitude.

She was so brilliant. He handed it to her, enjoying the feel of being stupidly in love and out in the world alone with her before murmuring, “How do you feel?”

"Small. But in a good way. You?" She took a deep breath of mountain air, looking over the landscape. He wondered if she felt the same as him, or if we-moved-a-lot Connie never felt that same warm loneliness.

"Same." He smiled and looked back out. Questions about wanting to see familiar faces could be saved for the road home when they were barefoot and bored. “Wish I had come to places like this more often. Oceans are beautiful but... Nothing makes you feel more like a speck than a mountain. It's comforting."

"Just another little person, running across a big marble." She nudged him softly with her free hand. "Gets a little too much when you really see the marble though. I think going out in space can make Earth feel a little too small."

Steven nodded. "Yeah. This is a good middle ground. Earth feels big. I feel small. I like it this way.”

“Why don’t we stay?” Connie asked lightly. “Drive around forever.”

“I could be happy getting lost in these woods,” he agreed, but there was no weight to it. There was no weight to her words either. They swept away in the breeze, tumbling down stone and needles and babbling brooks to the world beneath.

"Me too." Her fingers wrapped tight around the sketchbook in her lap, the cover digging into her skin just at the brink of hurting. "I'm, um... I'm done with it, by the way. With my portfolio. I’ll submit it in the morning."

"That's great!" Steven said, throwing his arm around her shoulders with an eager squeeze. His lips found her temple in a reassuring kiss, seeing the nerves in the stiff lines of her body. "I'm so proud of you. Did the landscapes turn out the way you wanted?"

She opened her sketchbook and Steven eagerly looked over her shoulder, never tiring of the contents. It started with the temple. The morning they left Steven had found her on the beach, wrapped up in a hoodie in the early dawn chill, sketching his home and occasionally sipping at a coffee that had gone cold, and though she had insisted it wasn’t important, he had happily delayed their start until she finished.

Connie flipped to fields of grain. Traveling the midwest had been much less exciting than he expected. Keystone had rolled by and their eyes had glazed over as everything seemed to be the same three trees and two rocks. They had burst into Buckeye and passed through Kansas and had mumbled incoherently about corn while the radio tried to keep them alive and driving. That night they had stared at Connie’s grain drawing with a ghostly horror, neither of them remembering when she had drawn the stuff.

She moved past a drawing of rolling grassy hills. In Nebraska, he had floated to the top of the RV with her. While she drew, he had read about the Great Plains on his phone. They had taken a moment, in warm breeze and isolation, to let tears hit their eyes and cries choke their lungs as they read about what happened to buffalo who had roamed there once. They had whispered about colonies of all kinds, and there was no one around to reassure them, so they took the time to mourn things that might have been.

They had done the same in sand dunes, or close to it. The sketch she passed held more memory than a picture, the grays of her pencil capturing more than just the desert, but him breaking down over Kindergartens sucking life from the earth. Another sketch just after, with a lovely pink flower blossoming on top of a cactus, and he could hear her voice reassuring, “Nothing’s as lifeless as you’d think.”

Connie paused on his favorite, the polar bear she had sketched from the San Diego Zoo. They had spent such a long day there, but when they got to the polar bears she had stopped and gushed about them. The Spirit Morph saga had inspired her to do research, and she rambled facts. Polar bears had terrible success rates, with only two percent of their hunts being successful, did he know? 

He really liked that idea. The largest bear of all, living in such a harsh environment, failed almost all the time. It fumbled and watched as victory slipped away, but it came back to try another day. It survived.

She finished on a sweeping mountain landscape, not too different from the one they sat in now. Connie set her phone next to it, a copy of her finished project next to the rougher draft. "That's the last one," she said quietly, pointing to the screen. "I think it turned out okay."

"It makes Earth look beautiful. I’d put it in a gem brochure," he reassured. “You chose a lot of amazing stuff.”

She bit her lower lip. “I hope so. I tried to choose what a school would think is best, not just the stuff I think is great. The stuff that shows skill, you know?

He kissed her cheek this time, saying, "Any school is going to be lucky to have you. You're amazing, Connie."

"I'm okay," she said, voice very practical about her own skills. Connie looked at him with a little laugh. "I don't know what's scarier - getting rejected or getting in. Mom was mad enough about the world US road trip gap year."

"She got over it! You know, after the meltdown." Steven said, wincing a little at the memory. He had sat behind her, trying to support her as quietly as possible while Priyanka and Connie growled and snapped at one another, each insisting on how the next year should be spent. And, at the end, the tearful apologies, the confessions of fear over the future… He had to admit that it was a relatable feeling, even if no one had fought with him.

"She'll get over this too. Come on. This is what you've always wanted. You're going to be an animator, Connie,” he said, and just saying the word made her eyes go a little wide with hope. 

He remembered her earliest drawings with him, rougher but already so much nicer than his own. He remembered her working through how to draw anime books, silly cat-eared characters with huge eyes. Steven remembered her fumbling beyond that, hours of Tubetube tutorials, crying at the tablet he got her for her birthday, the countless gifts of fanart for his favorite shows. He remembered trembling hands the first time she showed him a comic, with characters he had never seen, because she had snatched them from the air the way he grabbed music.

Steven knew he was tearing up again like he did every time he told her, but he could never hold it back. “It’s what you live for, Connie. It’s what makes you happy. You're going to tell stories."

Connie breathed again, taking in pine and chill and rocks older than even the Crystal Gems by orders of magnitude. The world was big and wide and old, the universe even more so, and usually that made her problems feel small. But nothing could swallow up the fear and doubt today. She took his hand tight in her own.

"This has been amazing. Driving across the country, seeing all these different parts of the world, pitstops to warps so we can see everything Earth has to offer. Steven, I..."  She looked up at him, shaking her head in disbelief. "These past ten months have been the best months of my life. Everyone said we were going to get sick of each other. Your dad gave us that speech about how it was okay to bail. Everyone thought we were going to mess this up but... I'd do this for another year if it wasn't for college."

He was careful not to jostle her phone or sketchbook from her lap as he lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips. "I loved this. I love you. No expectations. No scary future. No responsibilities. Just a big journey together.”

“I’m glad you loved it as much as I did,” she said with a smile.

“More than that. I needed it.” He laughed and shook his head. “Connie, I never could have asked for anything better than this. Everything at home was a mess. I’m so tired of all the work and responsibility and wondering what I’m going to do with my life. But this past year I just got to be with you and not be afraid."

"But now we have to go home," she whispered looking at the RV parked behind them. The place where they slept and ate. The place where they made stupid jokes and listened to terrible radio and podcasts. The place where they’d cried and kissed and worked through things they never thought they’d work through. But that was over now, and it loomed like a hearse. “We have to get in there and drive all the way back to Beach City. And then I... I have to wait to see if I get accepted.”

She laughed, cold and bitter, and took a hand to wipe at her eyes. He couldn’t see any tears falling, but Connie felt them stinging. “I’ve messed up on a lot of stuff, Steven. I know I seem smart, but most of it is from studying so hard. I’m not… special. I’m not talented. The odds are good they’re not gonna want me. And if they don't, I guess I'll go be a doctor or something. And, if they do, I..."

I’m screwed either way.

Steven shook his head hard. "You'll be an animator," he insisted. He took the thermos and set it aside, untouched, just so he could take both her hands in his. "You'll do exactly what you've been doing ever since I met you - telling stories. You'll finally get to be who you've always wanted to be."

She winced. "But my mom-"

"Who cares?" Steven said, barely holding back his temper. "We spent a year, just the two of us! You don’t need her to agree."

"Ten months," she corrected softly. "But, you're right. We did."

Steven didn’t like his temper. He didn’t like how angry he got. He didn’t like how easily he could drag Connie into it, drown her in it when they fused. He felt guilty about that. He worried about that a lot, that maybe his anger meant he wasn’t as good of a person as he liked to try to be. He loved Dr. and Mr. Maheswaran, didn’t he? His anger shouldn’t be so burning and flaring when all they wanted was for Connie to be safe.

But his feelings for her parents got tangled in his own, and when he started down that path he felt that little voice hissing that they should leave them alone, and that they could do things on their own, and for once they wanted to live their own lives and forge their own paths, and was it really so much to ask for unconditional support in that?

Steven took a steady breath to calm himself. "She should be in your life. The gems should be in my life. But nobody... Nobody gets to tell you what to do with it. It took me so long to figure that out. I didn't get that making other people happy and hurting yourself to meet their expectations aren't the same thing. I spent my whole life trying to be my mom. I didn't know what to do when I wasn't."

Connie nodded weakly. "I know."

He took her face in his hands, pressing her forehead to hers. "You're not your mom. You never have been. You don’t love rules and coloring inside the lines. You sneak candy into movies and find loopholes in the law and climb giant robots and... And you love books. And comics. And television. You love survival." 

Steven flipped back to the polar bear, gently tapping the page. "You drew this because of the warrior bears in the Spirit Morph Saga, because those books meant everything to you, and you want to make something like that for other people. That’s who you are. You want to inspire people like people who have inspired you."

She closed her eyes, trying not to cry. “I know. But I’m… I don’t know if I…”

“I’ve seen you capture Pearl on a page, and I can see all her determination and all her fear at the same time,” he whispered. “I’ve seen you draw your dad as a superhero, with a goofy flashlight and a big smile, because that’s who he was when you were small. You… You drew me, Connie.”

His thumbs smoothed over her cheeks as he took a shuddering breath. “You drew me the way you love me. It was just me, sleepy in our RV, and I looked peaceful and happy and I was looking outside and… and I could feel the way I love our stupid little rock. I was human and not human and I loved it, Connie. You made me feel so much.”

“I know, Steven. I know you feel the things I make but…” She whimpered, the tears he hadn’t seen before finally rolling. “What if I'm not good enough? What if I reach for Kansas and burn out halfway there?"

Steven hugged her tight, and let her bury her face in his shoulder. They were all alone up there, softly rustling trees holing them up from the terrifying landscape ahead. But there were such beautiful things below, pressed into the pages of Connie’s sketchbook, and it was time to face them all.

“I’ll pick you up.” His face buried in her hair, thoughts of their families fresh in his mind, and there was only one thing to promise, "I'll drive you home. And we'll all love you anyway."