#bc i want my art to look a certain way. not like utter crap

[cactus-cass]

Sometimes I wish I was worse at art do I could just give it up entirely

Drawing feels like a burden especially when I just simply can't do it no matter what I try

[dreamtaehyung]

(This Is Not) A Puppy Love

In which Jimin’s soulmate is in love with someone or something? else.

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

words: 4.1k

contains: soulmate!au, soulmate!jimin, sulky jimin, run era jimin (because i couldn’t get over it), lots of scenes w/ taehyung and his son bc why not, a hint of suggestive content if you squint

Jimin had been standing motionless in front of the heavily engraved mahogany door for quite a while now, right hand still poised over the doorbell.

He couldn’t believe it.

Etched on the side of his right index finger was a tattoo. It was written in delicate, looping script, the black ink spanning from the knuckle right to the fingertip.

He had not paid a smidgen of attention to it before, but he certainly did right at this moment.

It was too elegant, so perfectly ornate it was almost calligraphy.

He hated it.

Jimin wasn’t averse to the idea of getting tattoos, per se, in fact he had one inked right on top of his rib just last month. The actual process might’ve hurt like a bitch, but God was it worth it.

This one, though, just wasn’t his cup of tea. Too perfect, he reckoned, and his eyebrows furrowed, mouth frowning in distaste at the prospect of the tattoo taking up permanent residence on his body.

Jimin stares blankly ahead, struggling to remember how the horrendous tattoo got there in the first place. If his guess was correct it was probably inked right after partying the other day with his best friend, Taehyung.

That rat. Taehyung had probably convinced him to get the monstrosity tattooed on his skin in the first place, as Taehyung had the tendency to be mischievous and conniving, especially when inebriated, and of course Jimin, as piss drunk as he was, would gladly and willingly indulge his best friend’s antics. Stupid.

Jimin groaned, retracting said hand from the doorbell and running it through his orange locks in exasperation.

“I swear will never so much as breathe near alcohol with Taehyung in the vicinity.”

Jimin brought his hand down to his face again, scrutinizing the tattoo in detail. Upon closer inspection though, he saw that the tattoo was glowing, albeit faintly.

Well that was weird, Jimin mused to himself. Its outlines were tinged a bright, vivid red, blinking one last time before disappearing entirely.

He gasped, mouth ajar in disbelief. It couldn’t be —

He never believed in stuff like this. When Taehyung, a self-proclaimed hopeless romantic had told him about the idea of soulmates, he had always brushed him off. Never believed him when he said that when a person turns a specific age, the universe will help them find the one who was meant to spend the rest of eternity with them.

When the Fates had deemed it fit, a mark would find its way on the person’s skin, which would signify the first words they would hear their soulmate say.

He had never said it out loud in fear of hurting Taehyung’s feelings, but even back then he had scoffed at the notion. It was all utter bullshit, he thought. He never really believed that somewhere in the world there was a person who was meant to be his and only his.

He was content with living by himself and engaging in occasional hookups, insisting that he didn’t really give a rat’s ass if his soulmate did or did not exist. Or so he thought.

That did not stop him from hoping that Taehyung would find his own soulmate, though. And when he finally did, he was ecstatic for his best friend.

Taehyung, despite being pesky and annoying as hell when he willed himself to be, was a pure and genuinely kind soul who deserved to find true love.

His true love came in the form of a tall, blonde-haired girl whose name was Sana, who always had a smile on her pretty face.

Sana and Taehyung met through him, the former being Jimin’s classmate in Contemporary Literature. They kind of suit each other, Jimin had thought even back then. Sana has always been a kind, cheerful girl, always looking at the bright side of things, and while Taehyung could vex the crap out of him sometimes, he was also someone whose positive disposition in life Jimin would turn to whenever his thoughts turn a bit too gloomy.

He and Sana were studying for their upcoming finals in the university café when Taehyung barged in on them, honey colored skin glowing in the afternoon sun, his signature boxy smile plastered on his face.

“What’s up, nerd?” Taehyung mused, ruffling Jimin’s hair in greeting.

“Still as irritating as ever, I see.” Jimin muttered, pushing the latter’s hand away in mock annoyance, albeit unable to suppress his chuckles at his best friend’s antics.

Taehyung proceeded to rant about his Advanced Calculus class, grumbling at how the professor who seemed to have harbored a dislike for him called him to answer every single problem on the board.

“I never even did anything to piss him off, I swear!” Taehyung was rambling now, hands gesturing wildly as he recounts his overall behavior during this particular class, and Jimin was just about to utter some snarky remark when he finally remembered that they had company.

“Ah right,” Jimin almost forgot about his study buddy, gesturing to Sana who was now petrified in her seat, big, round eyes stuck staring at Taehyung who was promptly stopped from spouting more of the verbal diarrhea when he noticed her, mild discomfort evident on his striking features. “This is my classmate—“

Jimin was interrupted by Sana abruptly standing in her seat beside him, shouting and pointing a perfectly manicured finger towards Taehyung’s direction. “It’s you! My soulmate!”

Taehyung’s jaw dropped to the floor, eyes wide as saucers as he too now stared at the girl in disbelief. A beat or two had passed before he came to his senses and engulfed Sana in a bear hug, muttering into her shoulder how he was so grateful to finally meet her.

At that moment, Jimin had finally considered the plausibility of soulmates. He’d never admit it to anyone, not even himself, but he knew that the hope of finding his own soulmate had planted itself deep in his heart, and he began to silently long for the day when he could finally meet them, run his hands lovingly over their skin, touch their lips tenderly with his.

Still, he never thought this day would finally come.

His hands were shaking now, out of nervousness or excitement he really couldn’t tell. Who are you? Did he already know you or are you a stranger? Would you like him enough to spend the rest of your life with him?

Are you pretty? He chuckled at thought. Of course you would be. To him you would be the most beautiful creature he ever beheld, and he was sure that he would always be in love with you, even if he hadn’t seen a glimpse of you yet.

He squinted, eager to read the words that were now permanently etched on his skin. When he had finally read it in its entirety, his brows were creased once more in confusion and a frown had settled on his now crestfallen face.

What the fuck?

He reread it all over again, certain that he had just read it wrong. But he had not. Right on the side of his right index finger were the words “I love you too, Yeontan!”

Jimin scoffed in disbelief. Who the hell was Yeontan and why would his soulmate, the one person he was destined to spend the rest of his life with, say those wretched words towards him and not to Jimin himself?

Surely it was a mistake. It should be a mistake. His mind was reeling now, going into overdrive as he racked his brain for answers to no avail.

The fact that he had a soulmate should have made him giddy and euphoric, not upset and slightly dejected. So you were in love with someone else? His heart broke at the thought.

And what if anyone else were to find out? He would hate to be the subject of pitying glances and faux concern, but most of all he did not want Taehyung to know, he knew that his best friend would take the news just as hard as he did.

He could feel the incoming onslaught of an emotional breakdown, and as much as he would love to slump straight to the floor and wallow in his heartbreak and self-pity, he definitely did not want strangers passing by to regard him with looks of pity and mild disgust.

He shook the thoughts away, willing himself not to think about his predicament anymore and reminding himself of the reason why he had been standing right in front of the dark mahogany door in the first place.

He was here to finally meet Taehyung’s adopted “son” as his best friend himself had put it, a black and tan teacup Pomeranian he got from the local animal shelter. Slowly, Jimin stooped to pick up the plastic bag containing puppy treats that he dropped earlier on the floor, and finally pressed the doorbell right above the doorknob of Taehyung’s apartment.

Jimin could hear Taehyung before he could see him, heavy footsteps quickly bounding towards the door.

“Chim!” Jimin was greeted by the sight of a barefoot Taehyung clad in a light beige knitted sweater and dark olive green chinos, forehead glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and dark, freshly permed hair sticking out in multiple directions as if he had just come back after a run.

“I’m so glad you could make it! I just got back from touring the puppy around the block, and man does he have a lot of stamina for a someone his size,” Taehyung chuckled fondly, and taking notice of the seemingly heavy plastic bag Jimin held in his hands, took it away and made for the kitchen, all the while still talking Jimin’s ear off.

Jimin immediately stalked towards Taehyung’s direction, neck craning forward to make out the words coming out from his best friend’s mouth. He still couldn’t hear him properly though, so he opted to head for the sofa on Taehyung’s living room. He’ll just ask him about it later.

Taehyung’s living room was spacious, much like the rest of his apartment. Multiple canvases and art supplies were scattered about the room, each painting in different degrees of completion. Freestanding wooden shelves housing selections of books and photography magazines were situated on the right side of the wall, a painting of a blue, starry horizon hanging right above it. A puppy playpen was positioned on the opposite side of the room, filled with toys and treats undoubtedly for Taehyung’s small, fluffy son.

Disorganized stacks of paper were placed haphazardly beside two laptops on an ornate wooden table placed right in the middle of the room, adjacent to the plush, maroon sofa where a certain someone was currently sitting with their back turned towards Jimin’s direction, small, dainty hands holding a puppy close to their face.

Jimin stilled. Taehyung did not tell him he had another guest. Or maybe he did, judging by the way he was chattering nonstop earlier. He probably hadn’t heard him.

You were clad in a light yellow hoodie and black jeans, the hood covering your hair entirely. White sneakers were discarded on the floor beneath you, feet placed on the table revealing cream colored socks decorated with rice cakes all over.

“Cute”, Jimin muttered to himself without thinking, clearing his throat immediately.

He looked at you intently, trying to make out if he knew you already. He wasn’t really sure if he did, so the way his heart was hammering louder the longer he looked at your form terribly confused him. What the hell was happening to him?

He was about to make his presence known when you suddenly held the dog closer to your face, giggles escaping your mouth when it suddenly licked your cheek.

“I love you too, Yeontan!” You exclaim, situating the puppy in your lap and petting its soft, fluffy fur with your hands. You stood up slowly and made your way towards the foyer, firmly nestling Yeontan in your arms.  

You were too busy cooing over the puppy to notice Jimin who now seemed to be glued to the floor, wide, disbelieving eyes never tearing away from you.

Jimin was sure his heartbeat was so loud that even you could hear it from across the room. It was you. His soulmate.

Well, he wasn’t wrong. You really were the most beautiful creature he ever beheld.

He was never one to believe in love at first sight, but looking at you now, laughter bubbling from your soft lips, eyes twinkling in utter delight, he was quite sure that he would do anything in his power to ensure that you would never feel unhappy again for the rest of your life.

You start, a small choked sound escaping your lips as you finally register the man standing in front of you.

Your curious eyes swept slowly over his frame. His hair was distinctly akin to the hue of autumn leaves, only brighter and more vivid. It was messily combed back and styled upward away from his forehead, and you assumed that he must have had a habit of running his hands through his hair.

His soft, slightly round cheeks which were flushed a deep red and his full, pink lips juxtaposed his sharp, angled jaw, impressing a striking yet gentle visage.

Slung over his shoulders was a dark green army jacket, the thin white shirt underneath graciously bestowing you the sight of his delicate collarbones. Your flustered mind unconsciously drifted to thoughts of how beautiful it would look littered with marks all over, and you frantically veered your mind away from the notion.

You ventured lower, noting that the fabric of the light wash ripped jeans he was currently wearing were straining against slender yet thick thighs and calves.

Damn, this guy certainly hit the jackpot in the genetic lottery.

All of his features were lovely, undoubtedly so, but what struck you the most was his eyes. Dark, sharp eyes were staring straight at you, pupils blown wide. It held a plethora of emotions you could not really decipher, but among them one stood out the most.

Pure, ardent adoration.

Cheeks coloring slightly in embarrassment, you wondered how long the man had been standing there. And why was he looking at you like you were the love of his life?

He was easily the most beautiful man you had ever seen, and you definitely have ogled a lot of hot guys in your time. Surely a guy like him wouldn’t even breathe in your direction, let alone be attracted to you.

You inwardly cringe at your train of thoughts, chuckling nervously as you delicately placed Yeontan down on the floor. Yeontan immediately heads for the kitchen, probably looking for his owner. Or food, you couldn’t really tell.

Your meet moved of their own volition, tentatively stepping towards the man who was still rooted in his place. He was probably Taehyung’s best friend, you guessed, the one he always told you about. You reach out a hand towards him, a small smile on your lips.

“You must be Taehyung’s best friend, I suppose? I’m y/n, Taehyung’s thesis partner.” You offer, eyes darting to his face. He was still staring at you, ears not registering what you just said. You try again, this time a little louder.

“I’m y/n, Taehyung and I are thesis partners? We’ve actually just finished working on it today, so I was just about to leave. Sorry for startling you,” You laugh uncomfortably, lowering your proffered hand back to your side when he didn’t take it.

Jimin was startled out of his stupor, wringing his hands in embarrassment. He willed himself to speak, clearing his throat a few times in an effort to get rid of the nerves currently plaguing him.

Finally, he croaked, tone tinged with both amusement and relief, “Y-you mean to tell me it was a dog?”

“Huh?” You crease your brows in confusion, not really understanding his question.

He asked you again, tone softer and voice a bit louder this time.  

“You mean to tell me it was a dog?” Jimin asks, earnest eyes searching yours for any sign of recognition.

He could see the gears turning in your mind, confusion melting into awe and disbelief. You hastily searched for the mark etched on the inside of your left wrist, confirming what he had been thinking.

“You mean- I- We-“

“Yes.” Jimin was laughing now, dark eyes resembling crescents. He offers you his hand, showing you the exact words that had come out of your mouth earlier.

You couldn’t believe it.

There he was, your soulmate, in the flesh.

You gave his form a not so subtle once-over for the second time today, and this time he definitely noticed, if the teasing glint in his eyes was enough to go by. This man seemed to be carved out of marble, exquisite features carefully made out with the skill and precision only the most adept sculptor could ever achieve, and he can’t blame you for making sure that he wasn’t just a figment of your overactive imagination.

You were too busy checking him out that you startle when he speaks, the smallest hint of an amused smile adorning his features.

“Like what you see?” Jimin asks teasingly, feet clad in black combat boots treading slowly to close the distance between the two of you, careful and calculated as if he doesn’t want to scare you away.

He was in front of you now, so close you could feel his hurried breaths fanning across your face and could take in the scent of his cologne.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you surveyed him in closer detail. He was much better looking up close, if that was even possible.    

“I’m Jimin,” he breathed, eyes never leaving your face.

You wordlessly nod, the words seemingly stolen away from you.

“I.. I can’t believe I actually found you,” he chuckled a bit at himself, unable to hide his exhilaration and relief at finally meeting you, his soulmate.

Thank heavens you weren’t actually in love with someone else. It was just a puppy, Taehyung’s puppy to be precise, and as he lets out a slight laugh he felt as though a massive, painful thorn had finally been dislodged from his chest, allowing him to breathe freely.

He never took his eyes away from you, as if looking elsewhere would make you slip away from him forever. He regarded you with so much affection, so much love that you wondered if you deserved this. If you deserved him.

The corners of your eyes started to fill with unshed tears as he beamed down at you, thoughts of you being unworthy of his attentions, his affections beating harshly at you. 

Jimin frowns, hand coming up to your face to wipe the stray tear cascading down your cheek.  

You stared wordlessly back at him, his small gesture comforting you and vanishing those ugly thoughts immediately. You knew at once that you would gladly spend the rest of your life gazing at his face if he allowed you to.

Jimin’s holds your gaze tenderly, his hands reaching to cup your face. His fingers graze your cheek softly, lovingly, as his lips slowly inching towards yours.

You blushed and closed your eyes as he crossed the distance between the two of you, laying your forehead on his.

He was utterly perfect. And he was yours.

You sighed and closed your eyes as his soft, plush lips met yours. You stayed like that for a while, relishing the feeling of the other’s lips, before you felt him nip softly at your bottom lip, as if asking your permission.

You press your lips to his once more, insistent as you feel Jimin smirk as he finally deepens the kiss, angling your jaw gently to the side.

You whimper, shuffling impossibly closer to his body, eager to feel the warmth emanating from him. You wanted nothing more than to feel him against you, hear the frantic beating of his heart as you melt into his touch.

“Soulmate.” Jimin breaks away from the kiss and sighs contentedly into your lips, placing a delicate peck on your forehead as he struggled to catch his breath.

Your hand settles on his hair, playing with the strands and pulling slightly. Your eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide with desire as you stare at his lips, which earns a low growl from Jimin.

“Fuck,” Jimin’s nuzzles into your neck, placing open mouthed kisses on your throat. You moan louder this time, hand tugging insistently on his hair as Jimin hums and places delicate purple marks along your collarbone.

The sweet noises coming out of you only serves to encourage Jimin further, hands hastily reaching for the hem of your hoodie to allow him access.

His lips find yours again once more, groaning into your mouth as his hands explored every inch of your body. You gently bit on his bottom lip and let out a gasp as you feel something hard poking against you, causing your cheeks to blush.

At the sound of loud, heavy footsteps, you pull away from the kiss, pushing your hands slightly against Jimin’s torso to increase the distance between the two of you. Jimin frowns, his now swollen lips eager to be against yours again.

He moves his face closer to yours, eyes never leaving your soft lips. You almost indulged him, moving to close the gap again, until you hear Taehyung clear his throat.

“I see you’ve met each other.” His voice resounded in the room, an amused lilt laced in the deep timbre of his voice. Yeontan was cozily nestled in his arms, the puppy yapping at the both of you once, almost as if in greeting.

You jolted away from each other in surprise, cheeks both tinged in pink in embarrassment from being caught.

At the lack of response, Taehyung suddenly wiggled his eyebrows, mischievous eyes flitting playfully between the both of you, Yeontan still held against his chest.

“And I see that you’ve also been getting it on—“

“Shut up, Taehyung!” You interrupt, covering your face with your hands while Jimin turns to look at you, snorting at your sudden outburst.

Jimin gently pulls your hands away from your face, enclosing them with his own. He turns to look at Taehyung who was still sporting a look of delight, eyes following Jimin’s gestures.

“Taehyung, I would like you to meet my soulmate, y/n.”

Taehyung almost dropped Yeontan on the floor in utter surprise, mouth forming a perfect O. Yeontan glances at his owner with what you are sure is a hint of exasperation.

You stifled a laugh for his sake, failing as you hear Jimin chortling slightly beside you. When he finally recovered from the understandably shocking revelation, Jimin finally told him how you both found out.

-

“So let me get this straight. You actually thought Yeontan stole your soulmate away?” Taehyung was cackling now, hands clutching at his stomach from laughing too hard.

“I mean it wouldn’t be impossible, seeing that he got his father’s good looks and all.” He adds with a smirk, and it took all of Jimin’s willpower to not throw a pillow right into his self-satisfied face.

“You’re annoying, you know that, right?” You quip, and as if reading Jimin’s mind you grabbed pillows from the sofa and smacked one right into Taehyung’s torso, effectively wiping the smug look off his face.

Jimin could not help but laugh at the sight of you, bickering with his best friend just like he usually did on countless occasions. You turn to look at him, eyes gazing adoringly up at your soulmate, an impish smile playing on your lips as you hand him another pillow.

You were wiggling your eyebrows at him, gaze flitting to an unsuspecting Taehyung who was still indignantly grumbling about the sudden attack.

“Pillow fight!” You both yell simultaneously, pelting poor, unguarded Taehyung with the pillows you held in your hands, Jimin’s smacking him right in the face.

“Great shot, soulmate!” You cheered happily at him, holding up a hand towards him for a quick high five. Instead of doing so, Jimin reached for your hand to bring you closer to him, placing a delicate kiss on your both of your cheeks, your forehead, your nose and then your lips, much to Taehyung’s disgust.

Only when he held you firmly against his chest, your lovely face peering curiously at his, enamored eyes tracing the shape of his lips, did he finally come to terms with the fact that you were indeed his soulmate and God, did he strike it lucky.

[abnormalpsychology]

The Bully (part one)

[HAPPY VALENTINES DAY EVERYONE! Ya boi is excited bc I’m uploading my first-ever fanfic!! @joshua-rush-fanpage I hope you like it! This is part of the Valentines Day Friendom Gift Exchange. I wrote quite a lot more than I expected to, so the tag #myfanfic on here will be where you can find the rest uploaded later today. Sorry about the spacing errors— I originally wrote this in a google doc and Tumblr was being weird when I tried to fix them. I really really hope you like it! The first part is utter shit as a warning but it gets better!!! Hopefully I write more stuff soon, but here’s a little GHC to warm your hearts for now. I can’t believe I’m leaving a long, shitty, Wattpad-ass Author’s Note for the whole world to see but here we fuckin’ are. I also did not think I was the Soulmate AU type, but ALSO here we fuckin’ are. Meme mutuals please don’t think I’m lame I PROMISE IM COOL UwU. Have a lovely day even if you don’t read anything besides my ramblings. Thanks for making a community where I feel brave enough to finally post some writing I’ve worked hard on. I’m very grateful. <3 @swingsetboys Thanks so much for arranging this.]

Kids normally started thinking about their soulmates and deciphering their marks once they got their first crush, but Cyrus Goodman was different. He’d been worried about love all of his life, and the more he thought, the less sense it made. Trusting fate was generally put forward as the best way to deal with soulmate-related issues, at least before you met them, but Cyrus was finding that trusting fate was remarkably more difficult than all of the online articles and books in his parents’ offices made it sound. He wondered sometimes if he maybe was the universe’s first-ever mistake, a legendarily big screw-up, and this was a concern that was difficult to express without simultaneously concerning everyone else around him.

Cyrus’ mark was in what he had decided was the worst possible place it could be— his back. Two solid pitch-black handprints were indented into his skin so he had to twist around in the mirror to even glimpse the peculiar birthmark, like a two-year-old’s art project smushed across his skin or a crude frat party drawing etched on during a hangover was supposed represent his hope for the future and the person he was supposed to love more than anything. He’d always felt weird about it. The question that was tied most to it, the great white whale, the million-dollar-Jeopardy one, was what the situation could possibly be that would cause the mark to light up, to fill with color, when it made contact with his future spouse’s skin.

They’re gonna... push me? It was still, after years of contemplation and stomachaches, the best theory he had. The first way the person he was supposed to find eternal happiness with was by them trying to hurt him. That sure didn’t sound like love to him.

How would he make them angry? What would he do wrong?

The thought was his shadow, and the more he thought about it, the more confused he was. He didn’t want to make them angry, though! He wanted the person he was destined to spend the rest of his days with to like him right off the bat. He wanted the happy ending that everyone got.

“It’s fate,” Buffy had said and shrugged at their final summer sleepover before seventh grade began. “I mean, you can’t do anything to change it, Cy. I’m pretty sure you can’t fool the system by covering it with a tattoo. Since you always try to be as nice as possible anyway, I think you’re doing all you can.”

“Yeah.” He squinted. Maybe I’m just not good enough at being nice.

Buffy rolled her eyes, seeing through his words. “Cyrus. You really need to stop forgetting how cool you are. It’s annoying.”

“Thanks, Buffy, I just hope my soulmate understands my annoying… ness.”

“That was a joke—“

He gasped, shooting up with wide eyes. “What if I annoy them too much and that’s why they push me? What if I’m the one who ruins it?”

“Cyrus, I’m fairly certain that you would never be destined to spend your life with a total jerk. You may be weird, but that’s why soulmates love us, dummy. That’s why we love you.”

The two exchanged a smile, and Buffy reached around to squeeze his hand with her comforting smile.

“You’ll know when you see them anyway, because that’s like the whole thing. So… I don’t know. Maybe the push will be an accident or something. If it helps, I’ll personally remove the toenails if anyone who messes with you.”

“Well, I think,” Andi interjected like the voice of God from above, staring at the pair from her position of power on Cyrus’ couch. “You should stop worrying about something completely inevitable. It’s coming, like it or not.”

The boy let out a yelp and rubbed furiously at the goosebumps blooming on his skinny arms. “You didn’t have to phrase it like that, Andi!”

“Seriously,” Buffy agreed, eyes wide and unfocused. “Yikes.”

“It shouldn’t be scary. You two should really trust yourselves more. Future us will all make good decisions, I’m sure of it. Mostly. Probably.”

She leaned over to look down at her two best friends, reduced to frightened messes at the thought of someone who loved them, and deeply did not understand.

“I trust future Andi, at least. You two are weird.”

She stuck a bookmark made of old newspapers into the John Green book she was skimming, one of Bex’s favorites. She’d explained earlier about how since her older sister would be coming to visit her for the first time in practically forever, she had better know something about what she liked. Although from her various annoyed growls that echoed from above every once in a while, her friends could tell Andi’s tastes maybe differed from the latter’s.

“Real life isn’t that dramatic! Certainly isn’t as dramatic as this Augustus”—she gesticulated to the paperback copy—“thinks it is! What’s even going on in this book?”

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, setting the book down by the lamp.

“Yeah, whatever.” Buffy turned to look doubtfully over her left shoulder at her other best friend, from the spot on the calming maroon carpet where Cyrus was French-braiding her curls. “If you think all this soulmate crap will be totally drama-free, all relaxation and games, Andi, you’re kidding yourself. And it’s middle school.”

“You might want to rethink your position here,” agreed Cyrus, twirling a lock dastardly between his fingers.

A beeping sound came from the kitchen as butter filled the warm air, clashing with the rosy scent of the aromatherapy stuff Celia insisted on spraying everywhere before anyone else entered the house, even though it was just Buffy and Cyrus. They’re very well-behaved, Andi would always say, even though one was now swatting like a kitten at the other. True friendship.

“Stop that! Grow your own facial hair so you can stop using mine!”

“Low blow,” Andi commented.

“Never!” He fell backwards onto the carpet with a grunt as she attacked him with her fringe scarf, smacking her opponent with swift malice. Andi got up to go get their popcorn from the microwave, hopping easily over the destructive swarm of thrashing limbs on her floor.

The two broke apart, close to the door now. Like wrestlers, the kids sprinted to either corner of the room.

“Every time! This is why I don’t let you braid my hair, Cyrus!”

“You underestimate me! Now I have a secret weapon!”

A shadow rushed forward and cackled menacingly, a beautifully stitched pillow in shades of pink and red held aloft to decimate his friend.

“No! Bad Cyrus!” Andi scolded from the kitchen. “I made that for Bex!”

“This isn’t a Western!” Buffy yelled, hands up in surrender. “You aren’t going to tie Andi to the train tracks, no more!”

Cyrus pouted mutely, savoring the power, then conceded mercifully. “Ohhh-kay.”

“Maybe that’s why your soulmate will push you,” Buffy laughed. “You attack them, viciously, in a war of pillows.”

His face fell again, the weight of worry and insecurities returning instantly.

“Dammit.” Buffy sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Maybe I will... I’d demolish them, anyway.”

The three collapsed onto the couch together once Andi returned, mutely chewing their popcorn, their feathery Cold War forgotten. They could still hear cicadas outside. It didn’t quite feel like school yet, and something about that made the night seem more important, more meaningful, and made them all the more grateful for the other people who they felt like they could tell anything.

“Soulmates are weird to think about, though,” Andi added. “I mean, it’s not something you can teach in school or anything. How one person is made for another. I think it’s pretty crazy. Although I bet Augustus and Hazel would disagree.”

“Yeah, love’s simple until you think about— like— what if they die before you meet them?” Cyrus said, the years’ worth of anxiety seeping into his words. “Assuming it isn’t a fate thing. What if you’re the first one to prove it wrong? Or… you don’t know if you like that type of person?”

“Well,” Buffy chimed in, shrugging. “I mean, people always do, so…”

The trio fell quiet.

“Like soulmates or not, we can agree the marks are freaky as hell?”

“Absolutely.”

“At least you don’t have your mark in as weird a place as me.”

“Buffs, yours is on your hand. That’s not that weird.” Cyrus reached over her back to lightly touch the white splash of color across her right palm, and she jerked it away fast as if she was scared of it going off like a bomb. “High-fives happen all the time.”

“I know, but why would future me let anyone touch my hand? That’s not allowed!” She shivered dramatically. “Ugh. Can you imagine me all… stupid and love-struck? That would be remarkably awful.”

“Middle school,” Cyrus said, nodding sagely. “It changes all who experience it.”

“Well,” Andi whispered, suddenly solemn. “I guess we’ll find out if it changes us too.”

“Guess we gotta trust that the Future Good Hair Trio will make good choices. Soulmates or otherwise.”

The three looked around.

“At least we’ll have each other. No matter who comes, we’ll at least have each other.”