#I HATE PROGRAMMING TESTS AND I HATE TIMED SHIT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bangtangalicious · 2 years ago

Text

placebo (m) | part 1

⇒ pairing: jimin x reader, jungkook x reader ft ot7

⇒ genre: 18+ romance, smut, soulmate!au, academia!au, vigilante/gang!au, strangers to enemies to lovers, forbidden attraction, romeo-juliet typa shit, opposites attract, hurt/comfort, fate versus destiny, kinda dystopian, bikergang!jimin, biochemistry-student!reader, neuroscience-student!jungkook

⇒ warnings: sexual tension, making out, kissing, cuddling, just a whole lot of kissing--they just met okay lol they'll get down and dirty soon enough bear with me ;) pet names, teasing, flirting (i mean cmon its jimin), motorcycles, jungkook being fresh out of a kdrama lmfaooo, betrayal, people being judgey

⇒ premise: a scientific compatibility test matches you with your soulmate, except he's everything you hate and you're everything he stands against.

⇒ wc: 6k, short and sweet

⇒ taglist: @tornparts @loona15 @mini-euphoria @effielumiere @agustdreamsblog @jnghs @dragons-flare @xiusmarshmallow @ratherbefangirling @infires-imagines @aretha170 @dvalitaes @kookiejeonie @ddaeng-angmoh @idk123906 @medievalpink5

series masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Delicate. The way the crystal snow glided through the crisp winter air. It wasn’t cold—not yet. But enough to make your breath fog into a sweet sigh. Deep in the heart of campus, you took a moment to do just that—breathe. The sunlight was polarizing against the stunning white layer on the ground. You hugged your large coat closer to your body, basking in your own warmth. After staring at the sky for another moment you stepped forward. Crossing the street.

A car whizzed past. Quicker than light you were pulled back by the shoulders. Until you suddenly found yourself in the arms of a familiar face.

“What the fuck” His words were worried, but a smile painted over them. Exhaling softly, his hand cupped the back of your neck. He towered over you, shielding you from the strong sunrays. His silhouette breathtaking, but his face mimicking the light you could no longer see. “Be careful”

His glasses were thin rimmed. Turtleneck doing its best to hide his thick muscular build. His large wool coat fitting nicely across his broad shoulders.

You blushed. Your lab partner of three years never failed to make your heart skip a beat. Jeon Jungkook had been a friend. A colleague, and nothing more. Yet the more hours you spent grueling away in the tiny, musky lab—the later nights redoing experiments and writing up reports, you had become closer.

Despite your intuition, you began to feel hope. The moment spinning in your mind unparalleled as you arrived in lab, him not leaving your hand in case you may decide to absentmindedly wander off again. You were notoriously clumsy—you couldn’t help it. You had a lot on your mind. The cold air made you crave the warmth and safety of touch. It made you crave the day you would find your soulmate.

A sharp pain stung in the back of your neck, where a bioregulatory chip had been inserted when you were 16 years old. Everyone had them. The pain was a telltale sign that the cognitive-sexual threshold had been achieved, and you could now be matched with a soulmate. A brilliant formula that you had spent all of your early college years studying—infamous Dr. Kim Namjoon developed a way for people to recognize others who qualified for peak compatibility. The hope was to promote healthier relationships, happy families, and improved social function through strong support systems.

The pain had been recurring frequently over the last week. It was only a matter of time. They say you’ll just know when you see them. The chip is programmed to signal once it registers an ideal partner based on the compatibility test that runs whenever you look in anyone’s eyes. You hoped it would be Jungkook. That one day, you’d look in his eyes and you’d know for sure—that the sweet, soft, nerdy and beautiful neuroscience student Jeon Jungkook was yours. And you, his.

The age that soulmate’s got assigned varied, as each formula was unique to the individual. However, there were telltale signs that you would find out soon—including heat spikes in your biochip. You know for sure when the unique code of your iris meets that of your soulmate—your biochip then signals to your brain.

Hours spent together in silence, you adjusted your focus to work. The work that made you get up in the morning—that excited you about life. Carefully pipetting, time would move in a blink of an eye, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. He was leaning over your shoulder. That big, goofy smile on his face.

“Hey, I’m going to head down to the autoclave” His fingers ran through his neatly combed black hair nervously. “Do you want me to take anything down?”

Scanning your workspace, which was royally cluttered in a way with would have biohazard authorities throwing a fit—you shook your head. “No,” You smiled, “Thanks though…” Jungkook nodded, loading his cart with equipment. “Are you going to leave after?”

Taking off his thin-framed glasses, he wiped them against the pocket of his lab coat. He wore the coat so well, you swear nothing suited him more. “Yeah, I was getting hungry. Do you wanna join me for some jjajangmyeon?”

Heat rose to your face, tickling the corners of your lips into a smile. In an effort to not be too eager, you reached for your cellphone. “Sure let me just make sure I don’t have any more meetings”

“Great” Jungkook chuckled shyly, hands shifting in his pocket. His eyes glazed over you, head to toe before he gave you a nod and turned away. You watched him leave, allowing your smile to grow even more. He was so freaking adorable. God what would you have to do to get a soulmate like him? Yours would be a romance of the ages. Two scientists working in the Department of Biochemical Affection at the most prestigious science institute in the world, being each other’s most compatible. It would be amazing.

Jungkook was perfect for you. He understood what you were passionate about. Who else would listen to your geek rants about hormone interaction experiments? Or patiently wait while you fangirled over Dr. Kim Namjoon, the mastermind behind the entire field who authored the fool-proof, innovative compatibility experiment that had allowed for the government Soulmate initiative? And it didn’t hurt that he was drop dead gorgeous.

Urgently you began to clean up your workspace, grabbing your things and shoving them aimlessly into your bag—until you heard sirens outside. Brows furrowed, you headed to the windows to see what the commotion was all about.

The sun was just setting, a sweet peach hue glazing the sky, hiding the deep navy edges of the night. In the golden light, you could see two police cars surrounding two motorcycles. They were parked, one of the supposed owners talking intensely to the officers while another simply sat on his bike, a cigarette tucked in between his lips.

Your lips scowled at the man who was smoking. You hated smokers. The man held his cigarette in one hand, pushing his sunglasses up with the other. He looked to the sky—eyes bored, searching for something.

His hair was jet black. Pin straight. Leather jacket tight around his slim frame.

His eyes met yours. They were brown. Round, beautiful eyes.

“Ouch” Your hand flew to your neck. A pain burning into your skin. Hands trembling as your heart rate quickened. Blinking you realized he was still looking. Hadn’t flinched, not even once. Your lungs grasped for air—breathing out, you suddenly felt a wave of comfort. Of ease.

It was like a warm hug had overtaken your senses. You felt safe. This stranger was in your proximity and every wall you had up came tumbling down.

They say you will just know.

The man abruptly got up from his bike, his eyes not leaving yours. You watched, stunned as he tossed out his cigarette and went running towards your building. Once he was out of your vision, you gasped—suddenly aware of how long you had been holding your breath.

The safety was replaced with a sense of dread. Something bitter in your throat. You were nauseous. You didn’t want to believe it. You hoped—prayed it wasn’t true.

“Ready to go, Y/n?” Behind you, Jungkook had returned. Backpack in hand, he handed you yours. Taking it from him sheepishly, you couldn’t hide the shock on your face. “Everything okay?”

“I..I just” You were at a loss for words. Your gut told you that the man—your soulmate—was coming up to see you. You had to wait. You had to know for sure. Maybe it wasn’t true. There was still a chance that—

The lab door flew open.

“You”

Your backpack fell to the floor.

Jungkook exchanged a confused look with you as the man shamelessly entered the lab, strutting past highly classified experiments and notes all to reach you. You saw him closer now. Inches away from you. He was shorter than Jungkook, but his eyes fascinated you like nothing else. He was wearing earrings, necklaces, rings on his small fingers. His lips were thick, lush and seemed incredibly soft. He smelled like smoke. Unhinged and raw. Expect you didn’t hate it. Not on him.

He cupped your face, his hands were cold against your burning skin. He searched your eyes. So familiar, so incredibly sweet, and yet you didn’t even know his name.

Time seemed to slow. Your heart was racing. He stood there, taking you in as if he was memorizing every detail of your face. You forgot about everything—the world around him seemed to fade. A blur in your vision except he was clear as day. He was real as anything. Dizzy—your head spun with questions—with doubt. You were nervous. Suddenly feeling vulnerable in the palm of this stranger.

His touch, while aggressive, was strangely soft. His demeanor was intimidating and yet you were confident you were in no danger.

He leaned in closer. Eyes widening as though he was asking a question. You had no answers. You had no thoughts. Your mind was completely blank, senses overwhelmed until you blinked

And his lips were on yours.

He kissed you. Tender. Gentle. Quick—but long enough for you to really feel him. The way his lips fit perfectly against yours. He tasted disgusting. Tobacco on his breath. You wanted more, but he pulled away.

“Hi” His face was serious, but his eyes seemed to be laughing. “Name’s Park Jimin”

Swallowing thickly, you parted your lips to speak but he kissed you again before you could. Not realizing your hands were bunched up against his shoulders, grabbing the collar of his jacket—pulling him to you. You sighed.

Jungkook cleared his throat in discomfort. You had completely forgotten he was waiting for you. You pushed Jimin away slightly, gathering yourself before looking at him again.

“Hi J..Jimin” You extended your hand awkwardly. He raised his eyebrows, amused at your behavior, “I’m Y/n L/n” He took your hand, turning it over before he placed a fleeting kiss on your wrist. You shivered—the gesture so intimate. “I’m so sorry I have to go I uh—” you motioned towards Jungkook. “Have plans”

Jimin let your hand go, turning to Jungkook. “Hey man” He nodded his head, “Nice glasses” He winked. Jungkook looked flustered but said nothing. Turning back to you, Jimin waved. “Great meeting you, soulmate”

Your heart sank. He said it. Which meant, he felt it too. Your fate was sealed. And as you watched him leave, you couldn’t help but question where the hell this man came from—who he was—and how in the world was he your soul mate?

“Park Jimin?”

The steaming bowl of noodles in front of you did little to distract your mind from the overwhelming encounter you had just minutes before. Jungkook sat in front of you, seemingly more bothered by the whole episode than you had expected. Jealously was not a great look on him. You watched dully as he typed away at his tablet.

“I was so surprised. I always thought you’d get matched with someone more…you know…” He paused, searching for the right words. You knew what he meant. Exactly what he was insinuating. You felt a glow in your chest knowing that Jungkook had probably thought the same of you as you did of him. However, you found it difficult to care. Jimin may not have been what you expected, but you knew what you felt. Without a doubt.

“Like you?” You picked at your food, poking your chopsticks against your noodles aimlessly.

Jungkook took a big bite, wiping his face before scrolling down the screen, “I feel obligated to look into this guy. He seemed sketchy. And you said he was in the middle of being arrested? And rode a motorcycle—I mean do people still even do that?”

You felt guilty about judging him. Guilty that you were trying to fit him into a predesignated category in your mind before you even got to know him. You didn’t want to look him up, although you knew everything would be available. Privacy was not something valued in the state anymore. Information was completely open source. Accessible.

“He’s a student, so that’s good at least” Jungkook muttered, chewing his food.

After a few moments of silence, he stroked his jaw in confliction. Eyes glued to the screen, he had clearly found something. “Oh, this makes absolutely no sense”

“What?” You tried to reach for his device but he pulled it out of your reach.

“Park Jimin is part of an anti-science vigilante group that believes the government is using the institution of science as a way to regulate the population as per their agenda”

“Okay,” You swallowed thickly, slightly taken aback by the news. “So he has beliefs that are different than mine. That’s okay”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, “Anti-science? Y/n, this guy is the total opposite of you. And not in an, opposites attract, cute kind of way. In an inherent personal values kind of way. You’re a scientist for heaven’s sake!”

You exhaled steadily, setting down your chopsticks. “I know the compatibility formula inside and out. It’s never wrong. Our chips know us better than we know ourselves. I must trust it, Jungkook. It feels strange to me too, okay. I mean, Jimin smokes and I hate smoking. But if he’s my soulmate—I have to try. I have to make it work”

Defeated, Jungkook put away his tablet. “Just be careful okay. I know you believe in this, but science isn’t perfect. I’m just a little worried” His voice was quiet. “I had sort of always though you would be mine. So, I’m sorry if I’m being a little much today” His eyes diverted, looking hurt.

Your heart sank. People often dated before finding their soulmates. It wasn’t abnormal at all. A part of you wished you had never seen Jimin just so you could have had more time. More time in ignorant bliss. Admiring Jungkook for a while longer, even if it didn’t amount to anything.

“I understand. Trust me, I do. But I have a duty to my soulmate. I need to find him, and get to know him” You sighed, “The science is right. Dr. Kim Namjoon is right. I’ve seen it myself”

Jungkook nodded, shifting his weight. A bought of energy overtook him—ever reluctant to give up. “Will you just do me a favor? It’s for your own good, Y/n. You’re going to meet Dr. Kim at the conference in a few weeks, right? If you can, ask him to send the compatibility test results to you—just so you can know for sure. It can’t hurt”

“Where the hell did you run off to?”

Steadily making his way back to his bike, Jimin could make out Seokjin’s annoyed face in the dim light. He had roughly a few seconds to come up with an excuse. Jimin surely couldn’t tell him that he found his soulmate. Not unless he wanted an earful of Jin ranting about how fucked up the compatibility formula was, and how corrupt it is for people to be force matched into relationships against their free will.

Free will. All he had left to hold onto and yet, he didn’t feel in control lately. He felt numb. Lost in the haze of a double life where the secrets drowned him out into nothing. Law student by day, his nights were spent carrying out orders from the ambiguous resistance core. Fighting for justice through a system where he still had no say. Fighting corruption through a sense of servitude. It seemed all but ironic to him.

Frankly, the state had done him no ill. The death of his brother had forced him into the company of the resistance by association. His brother was an active member. He had surgically removed his bioregulatory chip and insisted Jimin do the same. “Don’t be a pawn in someone else’s game” He had said.

Jimin didn’t listen.

Surely being a pawn was better than being a king. Walking around with a target on your back. Jimin had no one else. The resistance took him in, offered to pay for school, so there he was. Seokjin by his side since it happened.

For the first time since the death of his brother, Jimin felt something. Sure it had been years, and maybe he had moved on. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but feel curious. Exited even. Who were you? Why was it you? Whether the compatibility test—whether the concept of true love was real or not, he wanted to know you.

“I uh, had to talk to one of my professors” The lie came easy to him. In a way he was protecting you already. If they knew he had been matched with a citizen, you’d be on their radar. Who knows what they might do to you? To make matters worse, you were a scientist. The resistance didn’t believe in science. Science was simply a tool to further the state’s agenda.

Which made you the enemy.

Jimin didn’t trust the resistance the least bit more than the state. Caught between two flawed systems, Jimin was barely staying afloat.

Seokjin eyed him skeptically. “I still think you should consider dropping out, Jimin. Seriously, all they will do here is plague your mind with a false history of thought. You can learn anything you need through the resistance”

Jimin rolled his eyes, kicking his leg over his bike. Shaking his head, he lifted his helmet on, glancing back up towards the window where he wondered if you still were. He wondered if you were a key. Something that would save him from his mess of influence he was in. His mother had only ever wanted one thing—that he finish college. He hated school, but he did it for her.

“Say, what does the resistance think about compatibility science?”

Eyes dry, drained from a day of emotions, you stared at your computer. The clock hit midnight. Tucked in bed, you were robbed of sleep, wanting nothing more than to find the mysterious Park Jimin. To know him, truly, before you let Jungkook’s words create ideas in your head.

His profile wide on your screen, school picture staring back at you. He was hopelessly handsome. Almost ethereal with those pretty eyes. You recalled how his lips felt against your, tracing your own at the thought. You craved the smokey taste of him—the taste you thought you would loathe.

The video call button under your cursor. You wouldn’t dare—you were too nervous. Nervous that Jungkook may be right, and you would find out that this man stands against everything you do. Everything you work for.

But you simply had to know.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you took a deep breath, clicking the call button. The soft ringing tone made you jump—as you waited for him to answer or ignore your call.

The ringing stopped.

Your heart with it.

And there he was. Tired, makeup off, revealing the dark circles under his troubled eyes. His room was dimly lit. He appeared to be sitting at a desk, in nothing but a white T-shirt. His muscles prominent even through the screen.

“Hi you” He grinned lazily. An easy, teasing smile. The type of smile that made you want to kiss him long and hard. “Miss me already?”

Throat tight, you were suddenly at a loss for words. A million questions in your mind, now knowing where to begin.

“Jimin—hi” You waved sheepishly at the camera, “I hope I’m not bothering you, I know it’s late”

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair, “Whatever,” You noticed that he kicked his legs up on the desk. Something inside of you felt queasy. It drove you crazy when people behaved like that—disrespecting their workspace. “Just doing some homework”

You exhaled in relief. “Right, so you’re a student?” He rolled his eyes.

“Duh. I met you on campus didn’t I?” Sighing, he reached for something. You watched as he brought a bottle to his lips. Energy drinks. Your hands curled into fists. Doesn’t he realize how unhealthy those are? “I study law”

“That’s cool” You couldn’t hide the disinterest in your voice. You had never really resonated with social sciences, being a science lover from as early as you can remember. The most reading you did was the romance novels that were hidden in your closet. You dreaded conversations about politics. Ethics. Law.

“No,” He chuckled, “It’s not. But aren’t you little miss impressive, doctor Y/n?”

You blushed, “I’m not a doctor.” Pausing, you added, “Yet”

“Biochemistry” Jimin took out his phone, clearly reading off your profile. You hated the way your ego inflated with the way Jimin sounded genuinely impressed.

“So you’re really familiar with all this soulmate crap huh?”

The feeling was short-lived. Your lips pursed. Soulmate crap. “Yeah, I guess”

“Do you think it’s real?” Tossing his phone aside, he suddenly leaned very close to the camera. Voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper, “The soulmate stuff—is it really love?”

“I do think it’s real” Your voice wavered slightly, but you were determined to stand your ground. You had been trained to deal with skeptics and if this man was your soulmate you were determined to make sure he believed it too. “I realize that it can be complicated to understand, but it’s a way to ensure high quality of life in the long run”

“Being told who to love is high quality?” Jimin taunted.

You frowned. A part of you recognize he was egging you on. You were determined not to let him get to you. “You don’t even know me. Don’t decide I’m not worth it without at least doing that”

Satisfied with your response, you relished at how Jimin’s face hardened. It wasn’t entirely uncommon for people to doubt the system. In fact, you always felt it helped hold scientists like yourself accountable to the general good. But Jimin’s doubts almost hurt. His reluctance to believe in what you dedicated your life to. Maybe Jungkook was right. Maybe this really couldn’t work.

“It isn’t personal. I just don’t buy into a chip in my back telling me what to think”

Surely, it was personal. Surely Jimin felt the same as you—that you weren’t what he wanted. He seemed unwilling to compromise, unwilling to budge. Exhaustion flooded your senses. You wanted to scream.

“Then forget it!” You snapped suddenly, slamming your computer shut. A tear rolled down your cheek, which you quickly wiped away. After a few deep breaths, you opened your screen back up. Jimin had tried calling you back.

I’m sorry

I do wanna know you, Y/n

Why don’t we try hanging out? I’ll come to your lab tomorrow after your shift.

That night, you dreamt of Jungkook. What it might have been like, being the soulmate of someone so handsome, smart, and sweet. Instead of someone who was bound to drive you crazy.

“Y/n” The voice of your PI, Jung Hoseok, boomed through the lab. It had been a busy day, with the important conference coming up, Hoseok was insistent that the first series of trials be complete before then. You and Jungkook had been working to the bone. “You need to redo these samples. Stay after tonight and get them done”

You groaned, setting your pipet down. Jungkook gave you a sympathetic look.

“I can’t tonight,” You spoke up, which was unlike you. But things were different now—you had a soulmate. You had to spend time with him. “I have plans”

Hoseok stomped over, towering over you. “Excuse me?”

You and Jungkook would sometimes gossip about whether you thought Hoseok had passed the cognitive-sexual threshold yet. Whether he had been matched to a soulmate, or if perhaps he would be one of the few who would never be matched.

He was so uptight, the two of you liked to joke that he’d end up alone. You always did wonder what happened to those people.

“I said, I can’t. I’ll come in early tomorrow and get them done, I promise. But I have to be somewhere tonight”

Hoseok’s jaw tightened. “Since when do you have a social life, Y/n? Ever heard of priorities? If you don’t stay back tonight and finish, you’re not coming to the conference. It’s as simple as that”

You sighed in defeat. You needed to go to that conference. Dr. Kim Namjoon, your idol and inspiration, was going to be giving a presentation. It was a great opportunity to network and see if you might be able to go work for him after you finish your degree. And Hoseok knew how bad you wanted to go.

Not to mention, you wanted a copy of your compatibility results.

“Fine”

He grinned in satisfaction, “Good”

Groaning, you returned to your pipetting. Jungkook nudged you lightly with his elbow.

“That was so manipulative” He commented, “You okay?”

Nodding, you rolled your eyes, “Yeah, I just had plans to meet Jimin tonight. But he’ll understand”

“Will he?” Jungkook muttered. You gave him a look. You had told him all about the previous night, which only affirmed his preconceived notions that Jimin was no good. That your soulmate was a doomed case. In a way you were grateful he was continuing to be your friend despite not being a viable soulmate for him. You needed support. You had a feeling this new relationship was going to be rough. “If you want me to stay back and help you, I’m happy to”

You shook your head, “No, don’t worry I got it.”

Jimin paced around the lobby nervously, watching as the whitecoats scurried about. He felt extremely out of place, his skinny jeans, chains and leather jacket contrasting the plain and simple dressed around him. He seriously wondered if these people had personalities, or if they were truly robotic like Seokjin liked to try to convince him they were.

If he recalled correctly, you should have been leaving around sundown, and it was almost dark. Jimin had half a mind to go up and see where you were, but he didn’t want to deal with your big nerdy glasses-wearing, jealous friend.

Fuck it. An alarm in his chest went off. What if you were in some kind of trouble? You didn’t seem like the type of person who would be flaky and forget a date. He rushed to the elevators.

“Text me if you need anything okay Y/n!” The nerdy guy’s voice echoed as the doors of the elevator opened. Jimin stared him down as he crossed him in the hall.

“Hey glasses boy” He called. “Is Y/n in there?”

The boy gave him an unimpressed look, folding his arms over his chest. Jimin bit back a laugh.

“My name is Jungkook, I’m her lab partner. She had to work late today. Don’t bother her”

Jimin raised his eyebrows, “Jealous much?”

Jungkook pouted. “Look, she knows who you are Park Jimin. She knows about the vigilante group”

Jimin scoffed, “Vigilante group? God you’re all such fucking geeks. It’s called the resistance”

“Whatever it is, she knows. You’re dangerous, and I’m onto you—got it?” Jungkook peered at Jimin, making sure to emphasize their height difference. Jimin backed away, hands up in defeat.

“Yeah alright glasses, I got you”

Jungkook huffed, entering the elevator. Jimin watched him leave before rolling his eyes. Jealously looked so pathetic on some people, it was honestly laughable. He made his way to your lab, knocking lightly on the door. He watched as you were immersed in focus, carefully pipetting something.

“Hey you”

You looked up, eyes widening when you saw him. “Oh my god” You glanced at your watch, “Oh no! I totally lost track of time—my PI said I had to redo a whole set and stay after but I was trying to work quickly so I could still make it but—” Jimin walked over to you, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“Relax doctor. You’re so tense”

“Y-you cannot be in here without PPE”

Jimin tilted his head in confusion, “I already peed earlier?”

You blinked at him incredulously. “No—gosh, no, you need to wear a lab coat. Goggles. Gloves.”

He shrugged, taking a seat next to you. “I won’t touch anything. I’m just watching”

You pursed your lips. You tended to be a bit uptight about certain protocols. A generally unorganized individual, you had experienced one too many accidents in the lab to not take safety seriously. “It’s not just about you contaminating the samples, it’s also about your safety. If a solution were to spill you could get burned or infected or—”

“Alright!” Jimin laughed, pinching your cheek. He gazed into your stressed eyes. “I’ll wear your stupid PPE”

He wandered over to the storage closet, grabbing the materials. You watched him, the coat was far too big for him, and the goggles looked almost silly on his face. Returning to your side, he pulled the chair up close so that he could rest his head on your shoulder as you worked.

“You mind if I just stay and watch?”

“N-no. That’s fine”

Jimin smiled. You became increasingly aware of his breath tickling your cheek as you worked. Hands trembling ever so slightly. His proximity made you dizzy. Today he didn’t smell like cigarettes. He smelt addictive. Dark. Like the wild.

You glanced over at him, wanting to see if he was finding your work interesting but were started when you realized he was looking at you. Flinching, you backed away from him.

He hummed, a light laugh. “You’re cute”

You looked down, unable to meet his eyes. “Thanks, I guess” He watched as you returned to your work, unphased by his words. Your dedication was admirable, he couldn’t deny that. He also couldn’t deny he was bored out of his mind. He supposed he could talk to you in the meanwhile.

“Your lab partner. How long has that been going on? Clearly likes you”

“Jungkook? He doesn’t like me, we’re just very close” He could hear you lying through your teeth. The speed of your voice picked up ever so slightly, and your fingers tightened.

“Sure, okay.” Jimin moved closer to your face, whispering against your ear, “He told me you think I’m dangerous…Do you?”

“I don’t know you at all, so it’s hard to tell. But considering you’re in a gang, I suppose it’s a reasonable hypothesis”

Jimin grinned, “Well if you have any questions about it, I’m an open book baby”

You set down your pipet, peeling off your gloves. “I’m done” You announced, shrugging off your lab coat. “Give me your lab coat” Turning to him, you waited expectantly.

“Help me take it off” He teased. You rolled your eyes, grabbing the sleeve of his coat and tugging it down. Once you managed to get it off of him, he pulled you into his lap.

“Jimin” You exhaled. The bunched-up fabric separating you from his chest. His eyes spoke to you. Beckoned you—tempted you. As if they were daring to see what you would do.

He grabbed the coats from your hands, tossing them aside. Hands on the small of your back he pulled you in closer until your hips were locked against his. Gently he slid your goggles off and then his own, tracing your cheek with his thumb.

“Do I scare you, doctor?”

You turned your face away. “No, of course not” He pulled you face back towards him, lips melting against yours. This time, longer. Less fireworks and more comfort. You realize he was trying to give you a sense of ease.

“I don’t hurt people. At least not people who don’t deserve it”

“How would you know who deserves to get hurt?”

Jimin’s eyes flashed. He enjoyed being challenged. “How would some scientists know who we love?”

“I don’t know if I can get past this” You whispered, “You hate what I do”

“I don’t”

“And I hate what you do”

Jimin sighed, caressing your hips. “If you don’t want to see me, you don’t have to Y/n. We still have free will. They haven’t taken that from us. Yet, anyway”

You shook your head. “It’s not wrong. If you’re my soulmate, I believe with every fiber of my body that it’s true. So yeah, we’re clearly different. And it might be hard but, I’m going to find a way to love you. I have to”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that when you’ve already decided who I am”

The words weighed heavy in the tense air. He watched as you considered his statement, that genius little head of yours whirring at what to say next. You looked at him with such earnest guilt, Jimin wanted to kiss you again just for that. His fingers trailed up and down you back. He was warm today. You felt incredibly safe in his hold.

You let your arms slide around him, hugging him to you. Your face against his neck, lips pressed against his jugular. It was so incredibly intimate. Such a delicate moment. For a second you almost began to believe you could fall in love this man.

You rose to look at him. His lips grazed over yours, breathing you in. Pressing against yours, pushing and pulling ever so sweetly. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Heat enveloped your body, like every sense in you came to life all at once.

His fingers wrapping around the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly close. “You taste so fucking sweet doctor” His voice was raspy, breathless. You trembled realizing just how taken he was by you.

“Jimin—wait” You inhaled sharply, pulling away before Jimin could swallow you into another kiss. Jimin steadied himself, tracing your lips while he caught his breath.

“This has been fun, doctor” He winked, nipping at your cheek one last time. Pushing you off him, he stood up, “Would you like a ride home?”

You stared at him in disbelief. “O-on your bike? I don’t know if that would be very safe—I’m not exactly comfortable with—” Jimin grabbed your wrist, pulling you chest to chest.

“I’m not gonna let you fall” You believed the words when he said them. “You wanna know me right? Well that bike is a part of who I am. Don’t knock it till you try it”

The next thing you knew he was placing a helmet over your head. Guiding you to sit on the bike before he sat behind you. His arms hovering over yours, caging you in as he gripped the handles. His chest to your back, thighs keeping you steady.

“Ready doc?”

You stared at the road ahead. It was pitch black. Anxiety danced in your gut.

“Okay” You had to trust him. He was your soulmate after all.

He took off, the engine whirring. Suddenly you were flying through the horizon. Heart beating fast as your surroundings blurred past you. In fear your hands gripped Jimin’s over the handle, steadying yourself.

You couldn’t hear anything but swore you could feel him laugh. He kissed the back of your shoulder before speeding up even more. You focused on the sensation of him—the fact that he was there, he was in control—therefore you would be okay.

You felt like laughing. A big smile on your face as you began to enjoy the rush of adrenaline as Jimin raced through the winding roads. It was exciting, the start of a new adventure. A new person who you had all the time in the world to explore. To understand his quirks, his persona, his story.

It wasn’t love, yet.

But it sure as hell could be.

When you woke up the next morning, your phone was blowing up. Hoseok had left you many messages.

Y/n—what the fuck happened

All of our data is gone—the classified trials, everything

Call me ASAP

full masterlist || ask box || series masterlist | part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

a/n: thank you for reading <3 this is new territory for me so please let me know your thoughts! if you'd like to be added to the tag list, you can reply, send an ask or dm me :) have a beautiful day you beautiful human <3

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bengiyo · 2 years ago

Text

A Boss and a Babe Ep 10 Stray Thoughts

Last week we experienced probably our choppiest episode yet. It’s a real bummer, because I continue to root for New Siwaj, but the final act conflicts always cause confusion. Gun and Cher were outed at work, but that was quickly squashed by Gun’s mom. Cher found out that another colleague had planted the evidence about Thyme stealing the game and decided to take the fall for it to protect her job…for reasons that just don’t track for me. Gun and Cher broke up as a result and both were very sad about it. Gun got drunk at a bar and so the bar called Cher who was his most active contact, and the two were able to reconcile for the second time in the episode. Now, Thoop has been arrested. At the very least, we had a Gay Boy Cuddle Pile.

Trigger Warning: rape mention and a rapist showing up on screen, along with mention and discussion of suicide in part [3/4]

Thoop, are you really mad that the police didn’t believe you? Where’s the shut the fuck up video?

Real shit, it is sometimes useful to have a Super Gay like Gun in your queer circle for when we have problems that only money can solve. Sometimes folks like Gun can keep a program running quietly for years.

I completely get Tub and Jack. Three and Zo would get tiresome after a while.

The gamer boys care a lot about each other, and are careful about how they talk to each other. It’s refreshing.

I do still love Gun. This man understands commitment and showing up when it’s important.

Gun pulled out his stern voice when Cher pushed too far with the old jokes. Surprisingly funny to see Cher retreat.

So if Gun has known about Cher taking the blame all this time, what the hell was most of the last episode for? I hate when they do all this testing nonsense and then waive it off.

I like that these two have good apologies. I just hope that we don’t immediately contrive another conflict five minutes from now.

I feel like this one guy plays a cop in every GMMTV show.

I knew this was going to eventually be the reveal about what happened to Tian, but it’s still upsetting and gross.

Gun is solid. Maybe I’m being influenced by how much I’m enjoying Jeng on Step by Step, but I do like having characters who can manage a crisis and don’t overreact to someone’s emotional outbursts at them.

Jack is correct. Thoop being arrested for possession is a big deal.

And of course someone saw them sitting outside of a police station all night. Now the mom is demanding they break up AGAIN.

Was one of them watching Star in My Mind before Cher showed up to tell them the news? Joong is paused on YouTube in the background.

I enjoy the parallel from earlier with Cher showing up at Gun’s place this time.

Oh hell yeah! It’s 2023 and we all verse now!

There’s a lot of threads active in this show. I don’t necessarily dislike them, but the timing isn’t really satisfying. I also feel like the mole plot was kind of a letdown.

#a boss and a babe #a boss and a babe meta #thai bl #bl series #Ben watches

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itswhumpday · 3 years ago

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GIVE ME NICE WHUMPER!! GIVE IT TO MEEEE!! Open... the nice whumper vault. Stop... having it be closed. D : asdfghjkl

Hhhhhhhhhhnnnngggg… Fine! Just this once.

---

“I’ll be right here when you come out, alright?”

Whumper’s voice was always the last thing Whumpee heard before everything went to shit. They tried to remind themselves it wasn’t Whumper’s fault. But it was damn hard not to hate their guts when it hurt like this.

The tests were a stepping stone on the way to a cure. A cure for humanity. Whumpee just had to suck it up. They were the ones who had begged to join the program anyway. And Whumper always said their life meant nothing when compared to the survival of the species.

First, the new drug would go into the bloodstream. The effects of each one were always a fun surprise. The disease took over the entire body, with symptoms that varied from case to case, with a few common ones. More than just a cure, they helped develop medicine for the symptoms. Only one thing was always the same: the burning sensation spreading through their flesh as the liquid travelled.

“Steady,” Whumper said, holding Whumpee down as they struggled against the uncomfortable restraints that held them to the table. There were still bruises where they had been held down before. The restraints weren’t enough. When the drug spread… every instinct they had yelled that they had to leave. A spasm made Whumpee try to pull their arm away and Whumper slammed them down. “Steady, now!”

“I heard!” Whumpee spits back, trying to hold still. It was like trying to keep smoke inside. You can do it for a while, but one the burning gets too intense, builds up too high, you have to let it out or it consumes you.

The burning was on their chest now, their breathing getting labored. Sweat covered their entire body within a few minutes. Ah, so this was what they were trying to treat this time…

“Hey. Don’t fall asleep.” Whumper gave them a little slap to the cheek. Whumpee held back the instinct to bite them.

“Wasn’t… planning… on it.” Whumpee managed, as their throat kept closing up.

“I mean it. If you embarrass me, I’ll stop giving you extra pudding.”

“No… You won’t.” Whumpee’s back rose off of the table as a new wave of searing pain crossed their chest as if scorching iron was being touched to the skin and let out a pained scream before falling back down, breathless. They felt Whumper cleaning their face with a glorious cold compress. “You… hate… pudding,” Whumpee continued, as if nothing had happened, although dark spots were swimming around their vision.

“That’s true.” Whumper always seemed casual during these sessions. Whumpee didn’t know if it was all an act, or if they were truly this able to ignore another’s feelings. Whumper held them by the neck - not hard, but enough to cut the limited supply of air. “That doesn’t mean I can’t make your life much worse if you don’t fight.”

Whumpee fought. They rose off the table, banged back down, revolted against the retraints until they felt blood. Whumper pulled back with a smile, raising their hands. Whumpee saw it as if they were seeing it on the other side of a tunnel. They let go, closing their eyes and focusing on their breathing.

They opened their eyes a second before Whumper was about to slap them again.

“One day…” Whumpee said. “W-w-when… This is all over. When this… When we get this cure…” Getting the words out was a struggle on itself, but this they had to say. “I’ll kick your ass.”“And if when we do get this cure, I’ll let you.” Whumper said, leaning closer and raising an eyebrow. “There’s an incentive to stay alive.”

---

Listen, this one BROKE ME. T'was the reason for me collapse. I could not conceive of a nice whumper even WAS. I was in shambles, not thinking myself worthy of this community.

But I have returned and FACED MY FEARS. There's your nice whumper!

And as usual, my requests are ALWAYS open. I might take over a year (like I did with this one), but I'll get to them eventually

#nice whumper #whump #whump prompts #whump drabble #drug whump #medical whump #beanwhump #beanprompts

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ms-demeanor · 5 years ago

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My friend says not to vote in the upcoming election because our liberal establishment is no different from fascism and because Trump's policies are merely an extension of existing policies (like the ICE concentration camps that were established under Obama). How would you, being a leftist like me and my friend, respond to this attitude?

When I was in high school there was one cataclysmic, catastrophic, Very Important school board meeting.

It was a perfect storm of religious freedom, LGBT Rights, and Holy Shit You’re Talking About Taking Daycare Away from Students Who Are Parents.

The first thing, religious freedom, was exceptionally stupid but I think it’s a great example of how shitty the suburb I lived in was and what we were dealing with. Basically the D&D club that I started was accused of being Satanists and the Campus Christian Club was trying to get us shut down for worshipping satan. (I live in the fucking WORST part of LA County, I swear). The defense for the D&D club was pretty simple: If we’re worshipping satan as an on-campus activity at lunchtime we have every right to do so just like the Campus Christian Club an in fact if the Campus Christian Club got us shut down for practicing a different religion they’d made a very effective argument for shutting down their Praising Christ on-campus lunchtime activity.

The second thing was ANOTHER conflict with the Campus Christian Club - this was more serious. This was “High schoolers shouldn’t be exposed to deviant lifestyles and therefore we need to shut down the Gay/Straight Alliance.” At that point the GSA was also very new and I was also the VP of it. Spoilers: we were allowed to continue existing and we had speakers come in from time to time - we had grownups who talked to us about dealing with homophobia and resources for what happened if your parents kicked you out; we had a trans woman in her 50s come and talk to us (in 2003!) about transphobia and dysphoria and how to cope. The adviser handed out a packet to all of us that had the suicide hotline number right at the top, I know at least three people used that number the first year. The defense for the GSA was actually another handy-dandy page out of the ACLU handbook: The Campus Christian Club’s definition of deviance is something they have a right to hold but not to impose on other people - if you ban the GSA based on being ‘deviants’ you are imposing someone else’s belief system on us so knock it off unless you want to be a fun LA Times story.

The third thing didn’t have ANYTHING to do with the Campus Christian Club and was much worse because it had to do with funding and teen moms. The third thing was “The district believes it’s a waste of money to continue to pay for childcare at the district continuation school; if you can’t afford childcare you should have thought of that before becoming a teen mom, good luck getting a babysitter while you’re trying to finish high school.” Four of the students from the continuation school had showed up with their children and their defense of the daycare program was basically (and understandably) “What the fuck you fucking ghouls we just want to finish school and it’s one fucking daycare provider on campus you already have to pay the insurance for childcare providers for other schools in the district what the fucking fuck.”

The D&D Club, GSA, and Childcare for Teen Parents Program were all allowed to continue existing.

By one vote.

By someone who had recently been elected to the school board.

By four votes.

Four people went out and voted that November. Four people filled in a bubble on a ballot.

The GSA did fundraisers to pay for STI testing and suicide prevention. My friend Michelle graduated on time with her daughter waiting in the crowd. Knowing that adult trans people could survive and exist and thrive and love themselves was lifesaving information for a few kids in the GSA.

Four votes. If four people stayed home that’s a hundred fewer STI tests, that’s wondering if Michelle would ever be able to get a job when she didn’t have a diploma and couldn’t hire a babysitter. That’s three dead queer kids and another two homeless.

And it didn’t happen. Because four people filled in a couple of bubbles one night in November.

Voting is not activism but it is by no means useless. If your friend is incapable of distinguishing fascism and liberalism that sounds like a them problem and it sucks to be them; that amount of nihilism is hard to carry around.

People who criticize leftists for “electoral apologism” or whatever for voting are the “yet you participate in society, curious. I am very intelligent” comic

Yeah, the system’s shitty. Yeah, it sucks and should be overthrown. But it’s not overthrown YET so we may as well take advantage of the few areas of harm reduction the system allows. Voting doesn’t mean you STOP doing direct action or that you stop pushing for change, it just means you’re doing the single easiest real-world thing to alleviate suffering. And if it doesn’t work who gives a fuck - you did the bare minimum and it cost you a small amount of time.

Vote and then go hand out food in the park or cut the valve stems off a cop car if you’re feeling angsty about conceding to the system.

(also FUCK, you have no idea how much I hate having to defend the Obama administration but please go talk to a trans person about whether it is easier or harder to get healthcare in their state under Trump or under Obama. I fucking hate liberals but I don’t think that they’re actively interested in overturning Roe V. Wade. Fuck this political purity culture and go learn about harm reduction.)

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

Hey Eve, I just tested positive fir Covid through my school's testing program and I was supposed to fly home on Sunday for winter break but now I'm stuck in quarantine. When you have time to breathe, could you write some hurt-comfort? Maybe between siblings? I'm really missing my older sister right now. ALSO, you're amazing. Have a good day.

Oh anon that's terrible! Big hugs coming your way, and I hope you can still have a decent holiday without going home <3 This ask was combined with prompts for Regulus sneaking out with Leo (mentioned here) and Regulus messing up, then worrying Sirius won't love him anymore. Oh, and AJ? You're killing it right now, and it sucks that program couldn't see it <3 SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW alcohol and drunkenness (from bad drinking etiquette), young adults being young adults, throwing up, past pressuring someone into drinking, and mentioned sex (teasing and non explicit)

“This is so stupid,” Leo said gleefully as they stepped into the bar. The bouncer didn’t card them—the place certainly wasn’t nice enough for the owners to really give a shit, and it was close enough to the college that carding would lose them about half their patrons.

A slow smile built in Regulus’ chest before spreading over his face. “It’s so stupid,” he agreed, practically buzzing out of his skin already. He usually hated crowded places and loud noises, but the bar was pulsing with activity and the kind of freedom that came with getting absolutely blasted, the kind he had watched his teammates partake in and then wake up the next morning groggy and sticky.

Regulus didn’t want to get so drunk he started bashing on other guys’ girlfriends or picking on rookies. But once, just once in his goddamn sheltered life he wanted to get tipsy with his best friend before he left his adolescence. Just once.

“I didn’t even think you were gonna be able to sneak out,” Leo called over the noise of the crowd around his crooked grin, making a path toward the bar with his big-ass shoulders. “Cap’s got ears like a German Shepherd.”

Regulus shook his head and winced as they passed a bit too close to one of the speakers. “Nah, he and Loops were out cold.”

Leo squinted and leaned down. “What?”

“They were dead to the fuckin’ world!”

“They were fuckin’?”

“No!” Regulus laughed. “Asleep! I could hear him snoring all the way downstairs! Ew, don’t put those thoughts in my head!”

“I’m just saying—”

Leo grinned as Regulus gave him a hard shove toward the bar, narrowly dodging a tipsy young woman in a sparkly tube top as she slipped past him with a tray of drinks for her table. The excitement of the bar was getting less tolerable by the minute, if he was being honest with himself; it had been overwhelming in the best way at first, a blast of freedom straight to the face, but it was starting to grate on his senses.

He finally managed to break through the crowd and stumble to Leo’s side, where he was immediately handed a bottle of beer. “I don’t really drink, but this one’s good!” Leo explained with an earnest smile. “C’mon, let’s get a seat away from the speakers!”

I don’t either, Regulus almost said. Not much more than a beer or two at team gatherings so he didn’t get called a pussy. Definitely not more than his first night out, when some of the older guys cornered him for shots and then he slept for twelve hours straight before throwing his guts up and going right back to bed.

But it was Leo, and Regulus was dying to just get out after nineteen fucking years and see things before rolling up to college with zero experience. All the stories he’d heard had told him college was where everyone drank. If so many people talked about it, it couldn’t be wrong, right?

The first beer was good.

The second was better.

Some nice lady with bigger eyelashes than he’d ever seen bought him something pretty and blue with an ‘aren’t you just the sweetest thing, pumpkin, I hope you two have a good time!’ and a tap to his nose before vanishing back into the crowd. Regulus didn’t know how to feel about the pet name, though it felt nice to be paid attention to.

Things started getting fuzzy halfway through his…fourth? Fourth drink. He slowly registered Leo putting another glass of water in front of him and the unhappy grumbles of his stomach. His ears were ringing. He knew how ‘tipsy’ was supposed to feel, and that was not it.

“Reg, listen to me.” Fingers snapped in front of his face and he jumped, meeting Leo’s eyes. “We’re going home, okay?”

Regulus frowned. “But I’m having fun.”

“Yeah, no, we’re done.” More concern fell over his freckled face. “You drank that blue thing hella fast while I was gone.”

Gone. That’s right, Leo had popped off to the bathroom after his second beer and a second glass of water. “It tasted good,” Regulus mumbled, rolling the cool glass between his fingertips. The music was making his ears hurt really bad. “Hey, Leo?”

“Yeah?”

“…I want to go home.”

They waded back toward the door together, keeping their hands clasped tight without a care for whatever some stranger would think. Getting through the mass of people was hard enough when he was sober—drunk, it was almost impossible.

The night air hit him like the most beautiful brick to the face. Regulus took a deep breath, felt a sudden wash of cold sweat, then banged his shoulder on the wall and felt his stomach flip. “Jesus, Reg,” he heard Leo mutter as a broad hand steadied his back with each heave. “Have you—oh my god, have you ever had alcohol before?”

Regulus nodded. “Beer. Team drink-ups.” He paused to catch his breath. “Shots, once, and it fucking sucked.”

“I’m so sorry.” Leo sounded close to tears suddenly, and Regulus blindly reached back to pat him on the arm before doubling over again. “Shit, this was supposed to be fun, I’m so—I’m so sorry.”

“Not your f—” Regulus regretted not drinking more water before. Or eating something; someone had said that was supposed to help. Or even looking at alcohol. “Fault. Don’t need your help. I can take care of—merde—myself.”

The hand on his back eased some of its pressure and he heard voices behind him before Leo returned, shakier than before. “So the bouncer guy said the cabs that run in this area at night are kinda hard to get ahold of—”

“Leo.”

Leo fell silent. “Yeah?”

“Leo, we need to call—”

“Absolutely not. I love you Reg, but I don’t want to get skinned alive.”

“I’ll take the fall for it,” Regulus mumbled, squeezing his hand even as his heart raced. “It’s fine. I’m the one that found this place, I’m the one that snuck out, I’m the one who’s drunk off his ass because some stupid blue thing tasted good. D’accord?”

“Reg, I don’t think you understand how hard he’ll kill me. My fucking ghost will be feeling it.”

Regulus shook his head and leaned back against the grimy wall, grimacing at the neon lights across the street. He already felt like death. There was nothing happy or buzzy about it. “It’s okay, we promised not to get mad if we called each other for some—hic—something like this. Safer than walking or waiting for a ride from a stranger.”

He was fiercely grateful that they had caught a cab there in the first place—there would be no sneaking temptation to risk driving to avoid getting in trouble. A point just behind his forehead throbbed as he heard Leo groan, then shuffle his phone out of his pocket.

A few beats of quiet passed. “Hey, Cap,” Leo began in a voice dripping with guilt. “Are you busy right now?”

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

The car was deathly quiet. Regulus tucked his hands under his thighs and tried not to hurl. Leo sat in the backseat like the world’s largest kicked puppy. Sirius remained silent and impassive in the driver’s seat.

“You feeling okay, Knutty?” he asked as they turned another corner and Regulus clenched his teeth.

“Peachy keen,” Leo said miserably.

“Reg?”

“Please keep driving,” he mumbled.

“I’m not mad—”

“You’re disappointed,” Regulus finished for him with a bitter tang to his mouth.

Sirius glanced over at him. “No, actually. I’m not mad, period. I’m really glad you called. Was this a bit stupid? Yeah. Did I do literally the same thing at your age? Yeah.”

“Shut up, you’re 25,” Regulus snapped back. He didn’t know why he was so angry all of a sudden, or why his stomach was trembling uncontrollably. He was sick and tired and the bar had been a horror show on his senses. He was—

Embarrassed. Mortified, even. Worse than the time he walked out of his bedroom and ran face-first into Sirius as he got out of the shower after a morning skate. Everything was cloudy and itchy, and he wasn’t even drunk enough to be able to ignore it like he did The Shot Night.

Sirius pulled up to the curb of Leo’s apartment building and unlocked the doors, looking back through the rearview mirror. “Walk safe. Have water before going to bed.”

“Thanks,” Leo mumbled as he oozed out of the car and slunk up the sidewalk, typing in the building code before he vanished into the main building. Sirius waited at the curb until the last sign of him disappeared.

And then there were two, Regulus thought, leaning his temple on the cool window. The car rumbled in a familiar comfort beneath him as they pulled back out onto Main Street. “I fucked up.”

“Yep.”

He ground the words between his back teeth before letting them out on a slow exhale. “I’m sorry.”

“For getting drunk?” Sirius said quizzically.

“For sneaking out. And getting drunk. And waking you up to come get me like a fucking kindergartener.”

Sirius drummed his fingers on the wheel. “First of all, if that’s your definition of ‘sneaking out’ then we need to have a talk about putting your keys somewhere they don’t echo off the stairs and not using the front door. Second, I was already awake.”

Regulus blinked at him. “Why didn’t you stop me from leaving?”

“Do I look like your babysitter?” Sirius snorted. “I heard Leo, figured you two were hanging out.”

“Why were you awake at—” Regulus squinted at the fuzzy numbers of the dashboard display. “—1:30 am?”

Sirius stopped at the light and turned to him in something like disbelief. “Reg. It’s a Friday night and I heard my baby brother leave the house that I live in with my boyfriend to go hang out with his best friend for an indefinite period of time. Use your head.”

Regulus blinked at him. “Can you repeat that a little slower?”

“I was getting some.”

“Oh, shit, okay, well.” Regulus curled his knees up tighter to his chest as his stomach started lurching again. “Good for you. Apology rescinded.”

“I’m really not mad.”

He huffed. “Yeah, I know.”

There was a nudge to his elbow and he peeked over one hunched shoulder. This light is the longest thing on Earth. “I’m not mad,” Sirius repeated. “I was worried, but I’m not angry with you.”

Regulus’ first instinct was to snark back, just to be a cranky little shit like usual.

He blinked again and winced as the motion made his head throb. He was tired. He felt so beyond guilty and embarrassed. He was sick and upset and still a little scared from ending up in an area he didn’t know, drunk off his ass with his best friend when neither of them were in a place to make good decisions. For the first time since he left his parents’ house, he felt entirely out of control. “I’m really sorry,” he mumbled again as the burn of tears pricked the backs of his eyes.

The light changed, but Sirius reached out to pat his knee while he drove. “It’s okay, Reg, deep breaths—”

“I didn’t mean to cause everyone all these problems—”

“You didn’t cause—”

“I just wanted to have fun—”

“Hey, shhh—”

“If you want to just drop me off at Knutty’s, I’ll come back over to yours tomorrow or Sunday or whenever and we don’t even have to talk about it—”

“Stop.” It took Regulus a moment to realize the car had come to a halt. He blearily looked out the window; they were parked on the curb, near some residential area Regulus didn’t recognize. Next to him, Sirius looked more than a little distressed.

Regulus swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Are you sure you’re not mad?”

“You’re not going anywhere unless you want to,” Sirius said in a firm voice, bypassing his question entirely. “I’m not ever going to make you leave my house. Ever. That’s your home, too. Am I worried that you didn’t keep track of your drinks, or have water, or eat before you went? Obviously. That was dumb. Don’t do it again. But I’m not mad at you and this doesn’t make me love you any less.”

“Sirius?”

“Ouais?”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

His feeling was (unfortunately) correct, though there wasn’t much left to lose. Sirius rubbed his back and kept one hand on his arm to hold him upright, talking to him quietly even though Regulus wouldn’t be able to repeat a single thing he said.

“This is a nightmare,” he all but sobbed about three minutes in. “I don’t want to go to college anymore.”

The hand on his back stuttered. “What?”

“I don’t want to do this all the time.” He was well aware he was babbling, thank you very much, but between the dry heaves and the rebellion of every cell in his body Regulus couldn’t bring himself to care. “I never want to touch alcohol again and I don’t want to go to college because if I don’t drink I’m gonna be friendless and lonely all over again so I should go back to hockey because it’s the only thing I’ll ever be good at.”

A long stretch of silence passed as he coughed one more time and accepted the waterbottle pressed into his hand. “I think we skipped a few chapters,” Sirius said haltingly as he rinsed his mouth out. “Do you feel any better?”

Regulus sniffled, then rested his feverish forehead on Sirius’ arm and let him take his weight. “I want to go home.”

He felt Sirius’ heavy breath before he was being guided back to the passenger seat on jelly legs. “Hockey is not the only thing you’re good at, and college is not just about drinking.”

“How d’you know?”

“Because I talk to people who actually went to college instead of people whose parents went on fucked-up rants about the evils of higher education compared to sports scholarships.”

“Fair.”

Sirius glanced at him in his periphery. “You’re a good person, Reg. You’ll make friends whether you drink or not. You’re an adult, so it’s your choice.”

“I really thought you were going to be angry,” he whispered.

“I am so, so happy right now.” Regulus turned to him with a mix of indignance and confusion, earning himself a laugh. “Non, I just mean I’m glad you called me. This could have gone a lot worse if you two tried to sneak around some more and got yourselves into trouble. I hope you don’t have to do it again, but I’m happy you did.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes, then relaxed with a sigh. “I have no idea why you’re so chill about this. I got drunk because of stupid mistakes and pulled you away from getting some on your night off.”

“The some was already got when you called, if that makes you feel better.”

“Oh, gross,” Regulus groaned, whacking him on the shoulder as Sirius snickered. “But really. Leo thought you were going to skin him.”

“Why? You fucked up all by yourself. Seems to me like he did pretty well, actually.”

“You must’ve struck the fear of god into him with the whole older brother vibe.”

“Huh. C’est bizarre.” They drove in silence for a few more blocks before Sirius looked over with half a smile. “I’m glad you have him, and I’m glad he has you.”

“Really?”

“Ouais. You’ve both been around too few people your own age. It’s not as fun being surrounded by older brothers all the time. Healthy development, and all that.”

“Somebody’s been watching documentaries again.”

“Somebody is trying to make sure they don’t make a terrible parent to their younger adult sibling so that the aforementioned sibling actually comes to visit for the holidays.” Sirius parked the car and made it all the way around to Regulus’ door before Regulus even got his seatbelt undone.

“Is it normal to want to sleep for eighty years?” he asked, allowing Sirius to take some of his weight as they walked up the path.

“When you’re this drunk, yes. I’ll leave the Advil out for you. You’re not going to bed until you’ve had some water, though.”

“Why?”

“Hangovers are worse when you’re dehydrated.”

“To be honest, I already feel hungover.”

Sirius let out a short, barking laugh and Regulus winced. “Desolée, I just think tomorrow morning is going to be a wonderful learning experience for you.”

Tired footsteps trudged down the stairs while Regulus sat on the kitchen counter and accepted the full water glass; Remus appeared in the doorway a moment later, wearing one of Sirius’ shirts and squinting in the kitchen light. “What are you—” He stopped when he saw Regulus and raised his eyebrows with a smile twitching at his lips. “Do you have alcohol poisoning?”

“No.”

“Good, then I can laugh,” he said, the tiredness leaving his face in an instant. “You look like hell warmed over. Jeez. Did Leo do this?”

“Did it to myself.”

“Wow,” Remus said, turning to Sirius, who was poorly hiding his laughter behind a water glass of his own. “Alright, well, glad you got home safe. Did you at least have fun?”

Regulus tipped his head back and forth in an ‘eh’ motion and immediately regretted it. “Not really.”

Remus looked between them for a few more seconds in obvious amusement before kissing Sirius’ cheek and ruffling Regulus’ hair. “I think I’m gonna go back to bed now. Have fun, you two. Reg, remember to shower.”

“For sobriety?”

“No, because you don’t want your sheets to smell like sweat when you wake up feeling terrible.”

Sirius hummed. “I forgot about that one. Especially cause you have a high metabolism.”

I’m still too drunk for this. “Why does that matter?”

“Reg, I love you, but you smell like a walking mini bar right now. High metabolism means faster processing means you reek.”

“Okay, okay,” he grumbled, easing himself back down to the floor to finish off his water. The pleasant darkness of the rest of the house compared to the kitchen was a balm on his eyes as he wandered toward the staircase. “Bonne nuit.”

“Bonne nuit.”

Regulus paused at the top of the stairs. “Thanks again for coming to get me. That was…cool.”

Sirius’ smile was soft as he tilted his head. “Any time. Sweet dreams, Reg.”

#regulus black #leo knut #sirius black #remus lupin #coops #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #best friends #brothers #alcohol #sneaking out

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socialistexan · 3 years ago

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I hate shit like this why make this do needlessly complicated. Means testing is the dumbest shit on the planet and only takes away resources like time and money that could go to actually improving people's lives. Every time a program is means tested, that cut off line is almost always pushed back.

Also, I am baffled on the medical degree thing. Weren't medical workers held up as heroes the past 2 years and now they get screwed? It is amazing to me that so few people connect high loan for medical workers with high medical prices that price out poor people from seeking coverage.

Just make it all universal. I straight up don't care. Universal programs are popular and don't cause resentment that Republicans can harness as backlash and label the program as a "handout" and "welfare.'

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tooruluv · 4 years ago

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Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour.

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat.

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal.

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name.

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything.

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy.

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked.

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories.

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead.

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes.

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything.

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same.

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was.

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that).

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day.

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing.

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect.

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea.

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy.

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class.

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else.

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting.

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with.

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity.

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath.

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy.

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools.

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger.

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt.

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight.

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself.

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder.

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in.

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.”

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

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grey-sides · 3 years ago

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Day 3, give it up for day 3!! Today's prompt was 'elevator' from chrisbitchtree's April Harringrove list. My day 2 drabble can be found here. Today's mini-fic is Steve centric, fear not, I also have feelings about Steve Harrington.

After the Russians, Steve finds that he hates elevators. Even though an elevator was just a small part of what happened, his brain refuses to get with the program. The first time he notices it happen, he’s on a vacation with his parents and when they approach the bank of elevators in the hotel, Steve just freezes. His dad gets annoyed, snapping at him to get a move on while his mom gently touches his arm and points at the stairs.

Steve tells himself it’s fine, it’s healthier to take the stairs anyway. And he doesn’t really encounter many elevators in Hawkins proper anyway. Now the only time he tends to see them is at the big mall a couple of towns over, thankfully Russian free, and almost always Dustin or Robin is with him then. Dustin likes to turn it into a game, he’ll take the elevator up a floor, and Steve will race up the stairs and they’ll see who’s faster. Steve appreciates the hell out of the kid.

The only other place he sees elevators is at the hospital when he’s visiting Billy. They’re, well they’re something. A too fast whirlwind of falling together in cars, at the quarry, and in Steve’s room when his parents are gone came to an abrupt end when the Mindflayer showed up. But Steve isn’t about to just abandon Billy like that. The guy has been through hell and Steve likes to give him a reason to come out of the hospital.

Even in the hospital, there are stairs and Billy only gave him shit the first couple of times he made it to his room breathing a little heavy. It gets easier every day he goes for a visit, stairs are second nature now. And for Steve, an able-bodied, young guy, it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t want to ride in an elevator. Until it does. Because the universe just loves testing Steve Harrington.

Billy is ready to be discharged. He’s mostly mobile and his breathing has gotten easier even if he’ll never smoke again. He can eat solids and string full sentences together and he’s eighteen which means he can sign himself out so long as someone is there to bring him home, it doesn’t have to be a parent. This is convenient because Billy does not want to go home to Neil.

Steve is going to bring him home. He’s got a room on the first floor set up for Billy and permission from his parents and he’s off from working at Family Video for the day, so really the whole ordeal should be a piece of cake. The only snag, a small one, is that Billy has to leave the hospital in a wheelchair. It’s policy, a wheelchair out to the car and after that, they don’t care what you do. The ramifications of this do not hit Steve until he’s standing next to Billy and the nurse wheeling him out at the bank of elevators.

All of a sudden, his world narrows down to the space right in front of him. His heart starts beating fast and his palms are sweaty. Steve realizes the nurse and Billy have probably noticed, but he’s paralyzed to stop it. It’s a hand on his elbow that snaps him out of his thousand-yard stare.

“You good, man?” Billy asks, careful, casual, like they’re just friends and not intimately acquainted.

Steve hasn’t told him about his fear of elevators because it hasn’t mattered. He’s not laying his heart out bare to Billy yet. Or ever maybe. It’s not like it was with Nancy or any girlfriends he’s had. This is Billy who barely shares emotions with Max.

“Yeah I’m good,” Steve replies and he hopes Billy isn’t going to say anything about his voice cracking. He could beg off and take the stairs, promising to meet them down at the bottom floor of the hospital, but Steve does not want to be chicken shit in front of Billy.

The nurse presses the button for the elevator and Steve starts to count his breaths. Billy stares at him but doesn’t say anything. Time seems to move simultaneously too fast and too slow and Steve can’t focus on anything else except watching that number above the doors tick to their floor. When it finally does and the nurse wheels Billy in first, Steve has to consciously put one foot in front of the other.

The doors closing are almost too much, but Steve digs his nails in his palms. He breathes deep and focuses on the back of Billy’s head in front of him, curls much shorter than before so monitors could be stuck to his head. He stays like that, locking his knees to keep them from buckling when the elevator finally moves down, down, down.

The ground floor must rush up to meet them because they’re getting out way sooner than Steve expected. He’s nearly bowled over in relief, but he gets his act together enough to bring his car around for Billy.

The nurse helps Billy into the passenger seat and Steve’s hands are shaking on the wheel, but no one comments on it. He should be relieved, he survived an elevator trip and it didn’t go into the bowels of the hospital or anything nefarious. But right now he’s just kind of sweating and wondering if it’s going to be like that every time he’s forced onto an elevator.

When Billy is secured and the nurse has walked away, he reaches over to put his hand on Steve’s knee. “Hey, it’s alright, whatever has you so worked up.”

Steve peels his hand away from the steering wheel to shift the car and eases onto the gas to get them away from the hospital. He takes a couple more deep breaths while Billy fiddles with the radio, his big warm hand still sitting on Steve’s thigh.

“Elevators,” he finally manages, clearing his throat. “Just hate ‘em after the mall.”

Billy nods like he already knew that and turns to Steve. “Man, next time just imagine getting stuck with me and all the freaky shit we could get up to in there.”

Steve snorts out a startled laugh, but it helps. He squeezes Billy’s hand in return and smiles the whole way back. Yeah, next time will probably be different.

#harringrove #chrisbitchtree #greye writes #drabble #stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove

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workingforitallthetime · 2 years ago

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trying my hardest to "#FOR MY FILES" this but raven boy/shane wright and also raven boy/mason mctavish. why does he have so many canadian bulldog shaped bfs. more importantly mason/shane and that picture of them cradling the u18 trophy. the vibes between them are completely undecipherable and also logical at the same time. i want more

all very important thoughts, anon. and pondering the vibes among those three has prompted me to write a little more into the single existing scene with mason and connor and shane that i have in my top secret raven boy files, and i will give that to you below the jump. contains no explicit material regarding minors but if anybody is squeamish about minors existing in an a/b/o world this probably isn't the WIP for you.

Wright starts shuffling the pizza boxes around, consolidating the spare slices into one box and stacking up the empties.

Guenther flicks his last hand of cards toward the center of the table. “Knock off the omega bullshit, Shane.”

“Fuck off.” Wright tries to close the lid of the overfilled box, jamming it down over the rest of the pizza. “I’m an alpha.”

The room’s too quiet, like all the sound’s been absorbed into the padded partitions that section off their quadrant of the hotel’s conference center. Guenther’s mean laugh breaks the silence. “Son, your balls haven’t even dropped yet.”

“I got tested,” Shane insists, indignant as everyone else around the table laughs. “They said my levels are super high.”

“That doesn’t mean shit.”

Privately, Mason agrees with Guenther. The genetic test is maybe 70 percent accurate before you present. Not worth paying for, his dad said. Said Mason could prove himself just fine without some bullshit lab report.

“Scouts care,” Shane mutters, and no one tries to tell him he’s wrong. They’ve all heard that a doctor signing off on an alpha prediction can be enough to bump you up a team’s draft board.

“Nobody knows, though.” Zelly flicks the edges of his cards through his fingers. He probably worries about it more than most of them do. He’s the kind of small skills guy who’s probably spending his draft year trying to prove he won’t turn out to be an omega. “It’s not like any of us are going to be MacKinnon.”

It was big news when MacKinnon presented early. Showed up at the combine reeking of alpha and everybody knew what Colorado was getting at first overall. Knocked Seth Jones right out of the top slot, even though eventually he turned out to be an alpha anyway. Most first rounders do. Although the ones who don’t usually come from the U.S. program like Jones did.

Zelly looks around the table in search of agreement, but everyone’s looking at Mason. Mason keeps his hand still, fighting the nervous instinct to rub his knuckles over his beard. He wishes he’d shaved after all. But he was winning when he left Switzerland, and he wants to keep winning here.

“You have got to be an alpha,” Guenther pronounces.

“Seriously,” Stanks agrees with him. Guys are nodding.

Two seats down from Mason, Connor isn’t. His face is impassive as always, hard to read. But he’s got an awkward set to his jaw with his lip curled back a little, same as he did on the bus from the airport when nobody wanted to talk to him. Mason’s starting to figure out how to read him. Or at least he can tell Connor fucking hates any topic that might remind somebody he’s fifteen years old.

“What do you care?” Mason leans back in his chair. “You lining up to suck my alpha dick?”

Guenther’s voice is loud over the laughter. “Wright might be.”

“Fuck off,” Shane snaps. It must be hard for the little robot to deal with something he can’t control. No matter how hard Shane tries to work hard and do the right thing and ace the genetic test, he can’t predict how he’s going to present. Mason’s never seen him get even the least bit rattled before. Usually Shane’s the guy you want talking to the refs. He’s a good captain. Nice to everyone, no special treatment for the guys he likes. You can’t even tell who he likes. Maybe he actually hates all of them.

“Okay, stack ‘em up.” Mason shoves his chair back from the table and slots his poker chips into the cardboard box without bothering to sort them. “I’m going to bed.”

Chips click together and someone gathers up the stray cards and shuffles the deck to put away. Guenther and Stanks start arguing about the pot for tomorrow night’s game. Mason picks up his water bottle and falls into step with Connor on the way to the elevator.

The awkward conversation lingers around them like a bad smell. Mason can’t think how to change the subject. Connor’s quiet next to him. He hits the elevator button with the base of his water bottle. The doors open and the up arrow chimes almost immediately.

They’re the only ones in the car. Connor leans back in one corner and lifts his feet off the floor, boosting himself up with his hands on the railing that runs around the edge of the elevator. “Can I ask…” One of his slides threatens to fall off his foot and he points his toes upward to catch it. He lowers his feet back to the floor. “Never mind.”

“No, what.” Mason’s pretty sure he knows what’s coming. He looks up at the floors ticking off on the panel.

“You don’t have to tell me.” The elevator starts to slow.

“It’s okay.” The numbers stop at their floor. Mason slips his keycard out of his pocket and balances it on opposite corners between his thumb and forefinger

“You didn’t say…” Just before the doors open, Connor finally spits it out. “Are you an alpha or what?”

“Shit, I don’t know.” The vestibule on their floor is empty except for a glass-topped table with a vase and a fanned-out set of magazines about things to do in Texas. The flowers in the vase might be fake. Mason can’t tell.

The ice machine rattles in its alcove as they pass. “You haven’t presented?”

“Don’t look so surprised.” Most people don’t present at eighteen. Every year there’s some group advocating to move draft eligibility back to age 20 or 21. It’s always based on some bullshit about growth curves and developmental years but everybody understands the real advantage for teams would be knowing more about what they’re getting, dynamic-wise.

“I don’t know.” Connor rolls his eyes. “You just look…” He waves his hand like Mason’s self-explanatory.

“It’s the beard, isn’t it?” Mason rubs his knuckles over it. He does like the beard.

Connor snorts. “Yeah, probably.”

“You love it.” Mason shoulders Connor into the wall next to the door of their room. “Maybe it’ll rub off on you.” He scrapes his jaw against the side of Connor’s face, feeling reckless and giddy. Connor yelps, startled, and hip-checks him out of the way. Mason stumbles sideways across the hall. He keeps getting surprised by the power stored in Connor’s short frame. He lunges back at him, jamming his chin against Connor’s cheek. “C’mon, get some beard.”

Connor shoves him away with both hands on Mason’s chest. “Dumbass,” he says, but the tense set to his jaw is gone. He might even be smiling.

#don't mind me #just worldbuilding a little

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recursivetrauma · 2 years ago

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I'm job-hunting again.

Ten years ago I dropped out of school to be a homemaker. My dream was to be a game developer with my spouse. It was also to be happy with my partner and cats, and to let go of an abusive childhood.

While we were in school together I had a meltdown following domestic violence and my grades slipped, the semester after this slip I stopped showing up to our classes. I found that the anxiety from these events wasn't going to just go away. I couldn't do my work or even take an interest in it. Even reading code brought on emotional flashbacks.

I tried to keep programming off and on for years. It caused extreme frustration, feelings that couldn't be explained yet because I was mistaking serious mental illness brought on by trauma for regular depression and personal inferiority. I felt like I was struck stupid, and then that I had always been stupid, and then that there was no point in trying because I would never be good enough. At this low point I was coerced into accepting a very bad deal; to be an unmarried house husband with no social safeguards. My life was in someone else's hands.

Things got much worse in my relationship. I suffered serious injuries from further violence, I was cheated on and neglected until I grew distant, and then raped, the meltdown that caused my trauma was never ending. It reached a peak when I was hospitalized from stress. I hated myself and often wanted to die.

I've tried many times to return to computer science. I'm still trying, kind of, but mostly because I have to do something to survive that isn't labor.

I recently did well at a Data bootcamp, but I haven't gotten a job four months later. I've had only two responses.

When I had an interview with Meta it was like I suddenly had IBS. I did what everyone does: grind leetcode and study in preparation. I passed a test with a recruiter. Every day I was shitting myself and quaking so much my abs hurt. My stress was awful. Then someone else was interviewed before me and got the job, and my interview was cancelled. I did another interview for a Data Engineer position for city government where I just bombed.

I'm trapped in the same recruiting hell that everyone else is. But that's not all there is to it. I truly believe that I can never succeed in the long term even if I get a job. This is a stressful career and my worst symptoms come out with external stress. I have seen the pattern of my behavior and understood what it is since I was diagnosed with CPTSD in 2019. It is a serious disability.

Eventually, as I work, I will get sucked into emotional flashbacks that last weeks, I will be overcome with pain and it will affect my performance, the way I'm treated will shift with my behavior. The causality of trauma is that you keep finding it. In 2019, I was bullied at work for the first time in my life while working in grocery. I've dealt with bullies before the trauma, but that requires a strength I don't have anymore. I need jobs I can walk out of to be safe, and tech employers want jobs with steep requirements and multiple testing interviews to make sure no-one is safe but them.

Looking at the work culture of tech, I feel myself reverse-engineering the logic that abused me. Their lives revolve around being obsessively superior, the 'grindset' is driven by fear of being surpassed by others. Unless you're one of the privileged, you live by the logic of elitism.

When I told my partner I didn't want to have sex because of the cheating, to her that was someone with a lesser station in life making demands of their superior. The cheating itself carried the logic of "I need more to balance out our partnership because you're just a loser". Gender roles as sexual economics, they're cruel because economies always are to the most replaceable classes.

There is an absolute logic to economic abuse and social status that no-one can dispel. You don't just spend the bulk of your life being a 'hustle mindset' creep and turn it off in personal relationships. That's who you are everywhere. In my mind, Tech companies driving inequality isn't just a function of technology but the people who build it. You may know that 'harassment in tech' was a news item for years, yet there no mechanism in that industry or even in our society to help survivors deal with it. It's just your problem. If you get out of this hole you teach everyone the lesson that 'anyone can do it', and if you don't you're ignored forever. Even the way we view victims is steeped in elitism.

This idea works fairly well being plugged into various scenarios. After our relationship ended I was mocked on twitter as an inferior. Someone who should've known their place and been more thankful. No-one bothered to question the weird narrative shift from 'my sweet, supporting partner' to 'my evil, worthless ex who wouldn't respect my power'. There is no moral difference here, simply knowing that I was worth less is supposed to carry all the credibility of publicly abusive statements. I could write pages and pages on how viciously economic elitism, and the abuse that follows can shape two people and the social circles around them.

I'm still trying. I see some classmates getting jobs and others returning to amazon fulfillment. I read experiences on this process - It's shocking to realize that normal people are experiencing the same stresses I am, not because of an exceptional series of abusive acts but because of the pressure exerted by the regular economy on them. I'm tempted to say Capitalism is as bad as life-ruining abuse, but for some that's what it is in the first place.

I don't think it's an accident that I did so well in my class. It didn't revolve around the same culture as employment does. I felt confident, social, likeable even. If I had just somehow dropped directly into work from that position, maybe I would've been okay.

I really just want to be safe and I don't know how else to do that. If it weren't for one of my injuries degenerating into arthritis I would already be in a fulfillment center or working grocery.

It occurred to me this week that I wanted to make video games with someone I loved and that's how I got here. I despise that romanticism now, but I feel emptier living without it.

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frostyreturns · 2 years ago

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Frosty Ruins Rudolph

Rudolph is a yearly staple of the Christmas season, it's a childrens classic that's lasted generation after generation for a reason. There's just something uniquely appealing about a Rankin-Bass stop motion Christmas special. I think one thing that makes this such a fun watch is the stop motion. You can tell a lot of work went into making it, the designs are terrific, everything looks very Christmasey. The animation style is an anachronism that makes it unique and charming. However even though this is a nostalgia laced classic that has a lot that I love in it...there's a bit that annoys me about it as well.

For one thing it was one of the earliest examples of secularizing Christmas, Rudolph was always the Christmas carol that could be sung in school because it never had anything to do with Christianity or the birth of Christ. Not only that but it didn't have any Christian messages in it either...which leads to my main criticism of the special.

It's essentially a progressive fairy tale. It's not enough that it not be Christian, not enough that it not have any religious connection at all...but it was a thinly veiled leftist prog morality tale. You have a character not accepted for the colour of their "nose" and a "dentist" elf which is definitely not an allegory for accepting gays. A message that has no place in a childrens program...nevermind a Christmas one. It's an attempt to subvert and ilfitrate the holiday and turn it from it's original meaning into being just another victim of the progressive machine, where the only appropriate messaging is cultural marxism and identity politics, progressivism in all things and all things in progressivism. Santa is already a departure from the true meaning of Christmas...but it at least has threads to the true meaning, the connection to a Christian folk hero in saint Nicholas, and the gift giving as a tradition going back to the first Christmas. The spirit of giving and helping the poor...these Christian values still remain in the tale of Santa Claus. However even that was too religious and needed to be made about race and sexuality instead.

Honestly if this was made today I would hate everything about it. I think many would boycott it as just another out of touch prog piece of media that misses the point to push their political agenda. However it was made with a little more subtlty and it was made at a time where everyone wasn't sick to death of hearing the same shit over and over again. It was probably a novel idea at the time and nobody would have imagined the cancerous destruction these ideals and their purveyors would wreak on our society and how far it would decline once we started shirking all normalcy because a stop motion elf asked "Who decides the test of what is really best." Well if you're a prog then nobody, you should be celebrated for being different no matter what and all drifting from the norm is good regardless of what the norm is or why it's the norm. There is no objective truth and you should do what thou whilt, anything that you want is good because you want it. If you're a Christian and you're celebrating the birth of your lord and savior Jesus Christ then the answer is the one true omniscient God, thanks for asking...jot that down.

While the musical Christmas special has no songs about Jesus it does have a song about how cool silver and gold are. Now at this point of a critical evaluation of this specials merits as a Christmas story you might be wondering...who wrote these songs, who wrote this movie? You must not ask these questions because that would be anti-semitic, but if you did ask such an anti-semitic question then yes you'd discover more than a few people involved have a propensity for precious metals making appearances in last names.

It's also kind of annoying that the story makes everyone out to be such collosal ass holes. It's a Christmas story that makes Santa an ass hole, it makes all the reindeer ass holes it makes the elves ass holes...everyone is acting like a hamfisted dick. They have Santa siding with the others who were teasing Rudolph for something he was born with and even shaming his father for producing him...and then only changing his mind when he finds a use for the freak Reindeer. None of the messages are Christmasey and frankly I don’t agree with them at all.

That being said it’s still a fun little Christmas special, the songs are classic, the animation is great and I can enjoy it despite my political objections.

#rudolph #christmas

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captainsophiestark · 4 years ago

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Scrapes and Bruises

Grant Ward x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Fandom: Marvel

Requested: Nope!

Summary: Soulmate AU where your soulmate feels all the physical pain and gets all the physical injuries you do. For the past few years, Y/N has had a soulmate getting all kinds of crazy injuries, usually at the worst possible times. When an opportunity to get some payback arises, they jump at the chance, but they might end up getting more than just revenge when they start training.

Word Count: 1,603

Category: Mostly fluff

A/N: This is my 100th fic on here!! Whoop whoop! Fitting that it’s a Grant Ward fic lol.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I hated my soulmate.

I'd never met them before, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I hated them. Whatever they were out doing in the world, it resulted in them constantly getting beat up and, thanks to this stupid soulmate thing, resulted in me getting beat up. My teachers had actually been worried for me my senior year of high school with how many bruises I'd come to class with each week. For most people, sharing injuries with your soulmate was an inconvenience at most. For me and a select other section of the population, it was a constant, legitimate problem.

So, of course, when I graduated high school with an offer to join SHIELD's operations academy, I had to take it. Not only would I become a spy and do good in the world, but I'd also finally have an opportunity to pay my soulmate back for whatever shit they'd been getting up to for the past few years.

After a long processes of orientation, testing, and tedious interviews, I finally woke up from my first night spent at the Academy and started heading to my first training session of the day.

Get ready, soulmate, I thought as my classmates and I formed a line on the mats, waiting for our instructor. It's time for some payback.

"Alright recruits! Listen up!"

We all stood at attention as a big, drill-sergeant looking guy made his way into the room. He paced in front of us, giving us all scrutinizing looks.

"I'm Agent Arlo, and I'll be your regular instructor for your class. I'll be teaching you how to fight, and critiquing you as you go along. But fair warning, I'm not about to be gentle. Only the toughest make it through Operations, and you'll be getting your very first test at the end of the lesson today. Now, pair off!"

We did as he said, walking through various forms of attack and defense and then practicing against our partners. I was actually pretty good at it, which was a pleasant surprise. I held my own against my partner for the majority of the class, although the one downside of that was the lack of revenge against my soulmate.

Oh well. If all went according to plan, I'd have a very long career at SHIELD for all the payback I could hope for.

"Alright, everybody fall back into line!" called Agent Arlo, once we'd all worked through and practiced our moves for more than an hour on end. "This isn't usually how class will end, but you lot are lucky enough to have one of the Operations Academy's best Specialists in the building today. He's going to walk you through a demonstration and test out a few of you who looked the most promising. Agent Ward!"

There were some excited murmurs from the crowd as another agent walked in, this one much younger. He looked to be about our age, and also one of the most handsome men I'd ever seen.

He stood next to Agent Arlo with his back straight and his hands folded in front of him, staring us all down one by one. When his eyes landed on me, I swear I felt a shiver run down my spine.

Once Agent Ward had surveyed the whole line of us, he nodded to Agent Arlo, then stepped onto the mat behind him.

"Alright Ward, who do you want first?" asked Arlo.

"Gimme the best you've got," he said simply. Arlo nodded, then whirled around to look at me.

"Y/L/N. Out of this group, that was you. Let's go."

I took a quick second to steel myself, then stepped onto the mat with Agent Ward. He looked me up and down, and in a different context, I would've thought he was checking me out. Here, however, I knew he was looking for any weakness he might be able to exploit.

"Whenever you're ready," he said, raising his arms into a defensive stance and giving me a nod. I pursed my lips. My plan had been to force Ward to make the first move, but that was now out the window.

I took a deep breath, and studied Ward's stance. I couldn't see any obvious place to attack, so I'd just have to hope one would open up as we went along. With nothing left to do but make a move, I darted towards him for my first attack.

He quickly deflected my first punch, then returned fire with one of his own. Unfortunately for me, it landed right in my ribs at full-force and knocked the wind out of me.

"Ah!" I cried.

"Shit!" hissed Ward at the same time.

We both took a step back from each other, both of us holding the same spot on our ribs. I just stared at Ward, not quite able to believe it. If he'd punched me and it had hurt him too, in the exact same spot it had hurt me... that could only mean one thing.

"You're my soulmate?" I demanded, looking at Ward with equal mixes of curiosity, disbelief, shock, and anger. Without thinking, I smacked him hard in the arm, then instantly regretted it when I felt the impact on myself. "I've been pissed at you for years for all the bruises I got through you!"

Ward held his hands up in defense, and he looked just as freaked out as I did. He turned to look at Arlo, who was also watching us curiously (along with the rest of the class).

"Uh... Sir, do you mind if we take a few minutes?" he asked. Arlo nodded.

"Take the rest of the lesson," Arlo commanded. "We were almost done here anyway. You too, Y/L/N."

Neither of us needed to be told twice. I didn't want to have this conversation in front of our entire class, so I followed Ward quickly out of the room. He led me to an empty classroom down the hall from the one we'd been using.

"So, hold on..." he said, turning to me as soon as we had some privacy. "You're my soulmate? I honestly wasn't sure they were real."

"Oh, they're real!" I yelled. "If I wasn't sure of that before, the black eye and cut that opened up on my cheek in the middle of my AP test last year—with no one else around me—was sure enough to convince me!"

Instead of looking concerned or even apologetic, Ward looked thoughtful.

"Was that last May?" he finally asked me.

"Uh... yeah!" I shouted, making my outrage clear. Ward just nodded calmly.

"That was while I was in Russia. My cover was a little too good, and a few guys working against their government caught up to me and got a few good hits on me before I could get away."

I just stared at him, mouth open and eyes wide, honestly not sure what to say. After a second, Ward looked back at me and realized his misstep.

"Oh, uh, sorry that it impacted you, though," he said. "Look, unfortunately, it's part of being a SHIELD agent. If you're joining up, then I'm going to be taking my fair share of hits too."

"Well, actually, that was the idea," I said, relaxing a little now that I'd at least gotten an apology (no matter how half-hearted it may have been). "I got recruited after graduation, and I figured joining SHIELD would be a pretty good way to get back at... well, you."

To my surprise, Ward actually smiled.

"You joined SHIELD to spite your soulmate?" he asked, a little amusement in his voice. I just shrugged.

"Well, it sounds a little worse when you say it like that. I'd say it was more... revenge than spite."

Ward chuckled and ducked his head, and when he looked back at me, it was with a smile.

"I'm starting to see why we're soulmates," he said. After a short beat, he held out a hand to me. "Why don't we start over? I'm Grant Ward, and it's nice to meet you."

I considered for a second, but then I smiled and took his hand. If he was really my soulmate, I couldn't ignore him forever.

"Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you too." We shared a smile, and held hands for a little longer than technically necessary. "So... what do we do now?"

"Well, it's pretty rare to get out of Arlo's class early. How would you feel about using the extra time to let me show you one of the best coffee shops on campus?"

I smiled. "I'd love that."

Grant nodded, then offered me his hand. I only hesitated for a second before I took it and let him lead me through the academy to the coffee shop. He still had a lot to make up for, especially since he'd also found a way to get in a fight while I was in the middle of taking the SAT, but somehow, I knew he'd make up for it.

I'd spent so long planning payback for my soulmate when I finally met them, it was a nice surprise to suddenly want to start planning dates instead.

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