#EDIT: WOW! Two years TODAY since my first fic!

[writingfics-passingtime]

A bit random, not that I don't enjoy your writing in general, but do you think you'd ever write tickle fics again?

Hey anon, such a fair question!

To be honest, I’m a little tapped out. Not just of tickle fluff stories but of stories in general. It’s not that the stories aren’t in my head, it’s that I don’t really know how to write them down anymore. I guess my ideas don’t excite me like they used to.

I miss the days when I’d write two 5k+ word fics in one day and try and fail to hold myself back from posting them twelve hours apart. I miss being excited about a plot point or line of dialogue, and I miss how excited I was to post a fic before going to sleep and know I’d get to wake up to readers’ reactions and feedback. I miss getting not enough sleep because my thumbs are flying under the covers at 2am while I come up with something I love and try to not wake my boyfriend up. I’ve been trying to rewatch the Marvel stuff to drown my brain in my favourite characters’ mannerism, hoping for a hit of inspiration, but right now I’m kind of sad about it all. I miss how fun this used to be.

I’m looking forward to Loki season 2, to the new Cap film, and to the Daredevil revamp, and hoping that it’ll give me that fresh inspiration I’ve been lacking.

I’m sure there are other creators out there who feel the same. I’d love to hear from you if you resonate. Maybe you have some good tips and tricks on how to drum up some inspiration.

JJ 💜

[stephaniebrownslover]

Stray Souls[A TicciWork Centric Creepypasta Fanfiction]—Part 1 | Prologue|

I decided to upload this story on here since not many people showed interest on AO3. Like it has 108 read and 5 kudos, this fandom is really dead.

Anyways this is my first writing ever, I have started writing in January of 2022. It's a 16-year-old-bad rather than a 12-year-old-bad but it's still awful. This was my first creepypasta fic so the characters may seem out of character.

I'm publishing this story with only little editing.

Read it at your own will.

Also if you decide to read, please act like Toby stutters because I can't write them properly.

Ships: Hoodie x Kate The Chaser, Mary Vaughn x Jane The Killer, Clockwork x Ticci Toby

Love.

A 4-letter word.

But why doesn't this 3-letter word have the same effect on everyone?

Why does it arouse a great feeling of hatred in some while butterflies are flying around in some people's stomachs?

What exactly is love?

Is it like a winding maze that tooks a long time and disappoints you most of the time, or is it like a chess board where you take each step by sifting carefully and analyzing exhaustively?

Is it the two halves of an apple that complement each other in perfect harmony, or is it two opposite sides of a locket, that despite being completely opposite to each other, form a unique image when they come together? But what if it's something else instead of these two?

Perhaps love is when two people accept and complete each other's flaws and oddities as they are. Who knows?

Who exactly said that we must have to fit it into a pattern?

A young soul full of pain, both of whom have lived hell on earth.

They are both full of anger and cruelty against life.

What happens if these two people, who are both very similar and very different from each other, get together?

Do they complement each other like two puzzle pieces that have been missing for a long time, or is it a living example of fire and gunpowder coming together?

Who knows what will happen?

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

"You know what? The first moment I saw your emerald green eye, I felt like I had found something I hadn't known I lacked for a long time."

"You've spending a lot of time with Liu lately."

The young boy's giggle, which was already quite light, had come out too muffled to be heard, which had been thoroughly blocked by his mask. Nevertheless, he could tell that the brown-haired girl was laughing because her head was on his chest. She could also say the same thing for the brown-haired boy, from the way his own rib cage was moving up and down faster than usual. They were lying against each other in the darkness of the night, which covered the area like a blanket. It was a very peaceful moment for both of them.

Who needed therapy or relaxing sounds when you could sleep together at the end of a long day full of endless work?

"What, so I can't compliment to my love?"

"Normally you don't, so you probably want something."

"Not at all! I just wanted to say Toi tu es mon soleil dicen et mon coeur ne bat pas sans toi."

"What the fuck does that mean, you trying magic trick or something?"

"No, I was speaking in French. Just wanted to be a little romantic. Wasn't I?"

"Ooh, so you were saying that to yourself in the mirror today, thought you had an imaginary friend or went nuts finally."

"Don't you dare bring Richard to that."

A foolish smile had taken its place on Toby's face as Clockwork frowned at his words where she lay.

"What the hell does this mean, and why are you saying words that seem romantic for no reason? Besides, did you take your ass out of your head to try to memorize it?"

Toby, just as he was about to start talking, Clockwork said something else and his word got stuck in his mouth.

"If you want to adopt a seal and be her father, and you're sucking up to me for it, I swear to fucking god-"

He let out a hearty laugh as his body shook with a sudden tic.

"Wow, know me so well."

''I know."

The last word she said had come out as hoarsely as a whisper. Although she wanted to continue talking, the fact that she hadn't slept for close to a week had made her faint from exhaustion, and she didn't even have enough strength to manage to keep her eyes open.

Her eyelids were now against her brain, which had caused her to involuntarily close her eyes due to fatigue.

The tick-tock sounds that echoed inside her brain were gradually disappearing. The silence, on the other hand, was unexpectedly very peaceful. Progressively, as she let herself fall into the sweet arms of sleep, a feeling of confidence was instilling in her that she was with the person she felt safe with, perhaps that was the reason she was going to fall asleep.

Toby, after not hearing a sound for a while, finally guessed that the girl between his arms had fallen asleep. He hated that she was beating herself up by keeping herself awake for so long, but it wasn't easy to tell such thing to someone stubborn enough to succeed in gaining a place in the history of world records for stubbornness.

Although he was sure that she could not hear him, he whispered in the ear of the girl in his arms before closing his eyes and going to the realm of dreams.

"I love you."

Other parts

[gayllamafromspace]

Anyone remember this- from a fucking year ago?..... I finally wrote the first gd chapter after abandoned the 4 documents, 15 notes, and ass load of research I did- I would like to thank the brilliant writing of other authors (I recently got back into reading Larissa things) for inspiring me to get my shit together lmaoo- I have high hopes to actually write this thing. I’ll be doing some editing and working on chapter 2 today- and then I’ll post the first chapter and try to work out a lenient schedule for myself. And this time around! I have a beta (just friend skimming over it for me) I’m used to writing in a more roleplay esc style (having custom bots to write under... almost like writing a script I think? Discord things all that jazz.)- since that’s how I’ve been writing for the past... year, but I do think that I've got this cat in the bag. Also- technically the fic would be a Larissa/Original Female Character, because I have created a character for this- but I’m making an effort not to describe her appearance very much, if at all. So it will be under the tags Larissa Weems/Reader, as well as Larissa Weems/Original Female Character. I don’t like writing in first or second person, so third person everybody! I’d like to also say that it’s going to have a somewhat slow start, with how crazy things get in the series so early on, I’m opening the story with a simple chapter, chapter 2 and onward will bring in all the stuff and nonsense. A bit about the fic itself though- (wow this post is long, by bad) The main character and Larissa have an established friendship at the beginning of the fic, but there aren’t romantic feelings (yet). It’s going to be fairly slow burn, and even a bit dramatic. It’s going to follow along the storyline of the first season, and eventually go beyond (unless we get season two before I finish writing all this stuff, then guess what? Imma follow season 2 as well, with creative liberties depending on what happens). There is an age gap in the relationship, however it’s not a very big one, the MC is 41, so It’s an age gap of like 8 years. (For the price of free.99, you can be a milf too!). I think that’s about all i’m willing to say on the matter? I’ll make a post to promote the fic once the first chapter is up. With that, i bid all ado and cross my fingers hoping that I can keep up with this.

I have been plotting out a fic for like... a week, since I watched the show. I'm not sure if I'm actually going to write it, but I'm really hoping that I do, it's literally all I can think about rn lmao.

[writingabouteverything]

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly 

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:)) 

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever. 

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex? 

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish. 

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that. 

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again. 

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle. 

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar. 

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.  

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird. 

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.” 

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.” 

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health. 

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.” 

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have. 

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.” 

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh. 

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.” 

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.” 

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.” 

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible. 

 I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut. 

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?” 

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach. 

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.” 

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.” 

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.” 

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.” 

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected. 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!” 

--

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go. 

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.” 

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.” 

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?” 

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.” 

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black. 

--

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between. 

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.” 

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.” 

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.” 

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.” 

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.” 

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.” 

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.” 

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--” 

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse. 

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.” 

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.” 

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.” 

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.” 

[bibbawrites]

Don’t Get Caught - Owen Joyner x Reader (16+)

Request: mischievous/playful/giggly sneaking around with Owen on set or evading Charlie in their apartment

Word Count: 3142 words

Summary: You are a makeup artist on set for Julie and The Phantoms and quickly began messing around with Owen, but the fear of potentially losing your job if anyone finds out has the two of you sneaking around and trying your best to not be caught aka 4 times you and Owen were almost caught messing around and one time you were 

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, implied oral sex, reference to m*sturbation

A/N: hi all! so this is my first attempt at a jatp related fic so hopefully i do okay, sorry for any mistakes, most of this was written and edited from 2am-6am because those are my motivation hours  i also don’t usually write reader insert so fingers crossed i dont mess this up lol. i have a ton of requests to work through so keep an eye out for things coming soon (hopefully)  also, to the person who requested this, sorry it took so long (my dumb ass deleted 90% of it and had to start again) i really hope i did your idea justice :)

1. Makeup Trailer 

The first time you met Owen was on your first day on set. Kenny had dragged the cast in to meet you, and something about Owen drew you in and you just knew you had to get to know the beautiful blonde boy. 

Luckily your chance came sooner than expected when you were working alone in the makeup trailer a few days later. The door opened and Owen came in, smiling brightly when he saw you.

“Hey, you’re Y/N, right?” He asked. You nodded.

“I am.” You replied and he grinned.

“I’m Owen. Nice to meet you, again.” He said awkwardly.

You giggled at his awkwardness. 

“Nice to meet you again too. Sit down.” You gestured to the chair in front of you and he sat down. You got to work quickly, working in silence for a few minutes before Owen spoke up.

“So how long have you been doing makeup for? You look young.” He asked.

“I’ve been doing it professionally for 5 years now. I started working in my mum’s salon when I was 15, and when I graduated I did a course to get me this job.” You told him. He paused.

“So you’re 20?” He questioned, and you nodded.

“I am.” 

“Cool, I’m 19.”  He said, and you hummed in response, concentrating on making sure his face didn’t looked cakey.

“So are you from around here?” You shook your head.

“Nah I moved here from Quebec.” You said.

“Alone? Or with your family or... boyfriend?” Owen asked, the last part sounding slightly bitter.

“Yeah I came alone, my mum is too busy with her salon, and my siblings are still in school. And I don’t have a boyfriend.” You told him and he grinned slightly.

“Good to know.” He muttered quietly. You raised an eyebrow, not quite hearing him properly.

“Sorry?” You asked. He shook his head.

“Nothing.” 

“Okay...” You trailed off, not believing him. “Well you’re all done.”

“Already?” He frowned slightly. 

“Yep.” You smiled.

“Oh. Thanks.” He stood up, pausing slightly. 

“Can I get your number?” He asked, somewhat hesitantly. Realisation dawned on you.

“So that’s why you asked about a boyfriend.” You said, eyebrow raised. 

“Guilty.” He grinned cheekily.

“Give me your phone.” You held out your hand and he placed his phone in it, and you quickly added a new contact, typing in your number and texting yourself from his phone.

“There. I’ll text you pretty boy.” You said, handing him his phone back. He grinned.

“I’ll see you around Y/N.” He said, turning to leave for the hair trailer. You watched him leave with a smile on your face.

A week of texting and flirting later and you found yourself alone with Owen in the makeup trailer again.

“So what scenes are you filming today pretty boy?” You questioned as you began to apply his makeup.

“Why do you always call me pretty boy?” He asked, ignoring your question.

“Because you’re pretty? And a boy?” You said, pulling a face.

“Are you flirting with me?” He grinned, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe.” You said. He bit his lip.

“So if I tried to kiss you you’d say?” He asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Eh why not?” You said it like it was nothing but inside you were freaking out.

“Y/N.” He groaned and you giggled.

“Just kidding.” You teased.

“So?” He asked again after a moment of silence. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh my god just kiss me you dork.” Owen didn’t even take a second to think about it, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his lap, connecting your lips in a less than innocent kiss. Your lips fitted together perfectly, and he tasted faintly of blueberry and spearmint. After what felt like a lifetime he pulled away from you, leaving you panting and wanting more.

“Wow that was...” He was the first to speak, his voice breathy. You nodded.

“Yep.” You said simply. “I should probably...”

You stood up from his lap, and had barely stepped away when the door opened.

“Hey Y/N, one of my lashes came off and... oh...” Savannah’s voice came, the young actress pausing when she saw how close the two of you were.

“Hey Savannah.” You said with a smile. She returned your smile before glancing back at Owen.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something?” She asked. The two of you shook your heads.

“No, not at all.” You said.

“I was just leaving.” Owen added, standing up from his chair. Savannah raised an eyebrow.

“If you say so.” She replied as Owen left the trailer quickly. The door shut behind him and Savannah grinned at you.

“You like him.” She said, her tone teasing.

“No...” You denied. Savannah rolled her eyes.

“You so do Y/N. And I know Owen, he definitely likes you too.” She told you.

“If you say so.” You said, grabbing a new fake lash to fix the missing one.

Savannah grinned. 

“Oh I know so. You’ll see.”

2. Julie’s Bedroom Set

“Come on Y/N, what’s the worst that could happen?” Owen had said as he dragged you through the filming lot towards the set of Julie’s bedroom. You had been heading off to grab some lunch when he had intercepted you and asked if you wanted to “hang”, which by this point you knew was code for hide somewhere and make out for a while. You had originally said no, but those darn puppy eyes had made you say yes before you even realised you were saying it. 

“What if someone catches us?” You had questioned, but Owen silenced your worries with a blistering kiss that left you breathless. 

“We’ll be fine.” He muttered as he pulled away. “Don’t stress.” 

“Famous last words.” You muttered, allowing him to pull you back in and kiss you again. You ran your fingers through his hair, knowing that he would have to have it fixed up before his next scene anyways. 

It had been a few weeks since that first kiss in the makeup trailer, and since then you had learnt the taste and feeling of Owen’s lips on yours, a feeling that was now so familiar to you that it felt like second nature. 

You mindlessly kissed him back, thanking your past self for deciding to use your favourite chapstick flavour, choc mint, on him earlier that morning when you did his makeup for the day. 

You pulled away to take a breath and he grinned at you. 

“I’m glad we met.” He said. You blushed slightly.

“Me too.” You agreed.

He pulled you back in and kissed you again, this kiss more passionate than the last, and you shuffled closer to him, your lips never leaving his for a second. You could feel his hands resting on your waist, his tongue in your mouth, the scent of his cologne filling your nostrils.

Suddenly you heard a noise and you pulled away quickly, the fear of being caught overpowering your feelings for Owen.

“Someone’s coming.” You said quickly. Owen frowned.

“What?” He questioned.

“There’s someone coming.” You repeated and his expression changed to fear.

“Fuck, what do we do? Run?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yes.” 

He grabbed your hands and pulled you up off the bed, linking your fingers together before dragging you off the set, the both of you giggling the whole way back to his trailer.

“It’s kinda fun, almost but not quite getting caught.” You admitted once the two of you were curled up on the couch in his trailer.

“It is.” He agreed. “But do you know what’s even more fun?”

“What?” You questioned.

“Making out with you.”

And if Owen went back to set with the taste of your orgasm on his tongue that was for only the two of you to know. 

3. Owen and Charlie’s Living Room 

You had just finished some finishing touches on Savannah’s makeup when Owen burst into the makeup trailer. 

“You’re all done.” You told Savannah and she grinned. 

“Thanks Y/N.” She stood up from the chair. “See you later. Bye Owen.” 

She glanced between the two of you, before turning and giving you a quick wink as she left, leaving you and Owen alone in the trailer. 

“So?” You spoke, beginning to pack up your brushes. “Why are you here?” 

“Well you see, I’m finished for the day and I checked your schedule and you are too, and I was wondering if you wanted to come back to my place to watch a movie and chill or something.” Owen spoke, plopping himself into one of the chairs and spinning around. 

"What about Charlie?” You asked, placing your brush bag into the large drawer of your makeup supplies. 

“He’s filming the Perfect Harmony scene with Madi. We’d have the place to ourselves for at least a few hours.” You paused, considering his offer. 

“Okay.” You replied simply. He cheered. 

“Are you ready to go now?” He asked, standing up, and you nodded. He grinned slightly, pulling you in and kissing you softly. 

“Hi, by the way.” He whispered once he pulled away. You rolled your eyes playfully. 

“Let’s just go.” 

You somehow managed to make it off set and back to the building where most of the cast and crew were living without anyone noticing the two of you together.

“What floor?” You asked as you hopped into the elevator.

“6.” He replied, and you pressed the button, riding in silence to his floor. He took your hand, pulling you towards the apartment he shared with Charlie, unlocking the front door and dragging you towards the couch.

“So you mentioned a movie?” You said once the two of you were settled. Owen nodded. 

“I did, what do you wanna watch?” He asked. 

“I actually have a better idea.” You grinned, climbing on top of him, straddling his waist.

“Oh I see.” He replied, grabbing your top and pulling you down to kiss you roughly.

It felt like no time had passed at all when suddenly the front door unlocked.

“Fuck.” You said, jumping off him quickly and settling onto the couch next to Owen, pretending as if you’d been there the whole time. Charlie entered the room, frowning slightly when he saw you sat on the couch.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Charlie questioned, throwing his bag onto the chair. 

“I.. Um...” You stumbled. “I was just leaving.” 

You stood up quickly, thankful that the shoes you wore were slip on’s. 

Charlie eyed Owen carefully as the door shut and Owen shrugged.

“Should I ask?” Charlie questioned. Owen shook his head.

“Nope.”

4. Owen’s Bedroom 

After a couple of close calls on set and in the living room, the next time you came over you and Owen went straight to his room.

He laid down on his bed and you climbed on top of him, kissing him instantly.

“God you’re perfect.” He muttered, lips and tongues combining in a mess of passion and lust. Owen pulled at your shirt, tugging it over your head, and you did the same for him. His lips trailed down your neck, sucking gently to leave a mark.

The front door opened and Owen groaned.

“Shit, is that Charlie?” You asked. He nodded. “What do we do?”

“Uh... get in the closet.” He suggested and you giggled, grabbing onto your shirt so Charlie wouldn’t see it if he came in.

“Owen? You here?” Charlie called, and Owen dragged you into the closet, pulling the door shut behind you.

“Shh.” Owen whispered. You tried to hide your smile.

“I didn’t say anything.” You told him, and he rolled his eyes playfully. The door to Owen’s room opened and the two of you froze, bodies pressed together.

“God I hope that’s your phone pressed against my leg.” You whispered after a moment. Owen pulled a face in the darkness. 

“Uh... no.” He replied, and you giggled awkwardly. 

“Don’t laugh, this isn’t funny.” He whined.

“It is funny. We’re trapped in your closet waiting for Charlie to leave and you still manage to be turned on?” You questioned with a giggle

“I can’t help it when someone as attractive as you is pressed up against me. Plus you don’t have a shirt on so...” He trailed off.

“Oh yeah?” You pressed yourself against his body more forcefully. Owen groaned quietly. 

“Fuck, stop it.” He muttered. You smirked. 

“No.” You whispered, and Owen placed his hands on your waist. 

“Y/N...” His voice was low, and just the sound of it sent flutters through your stomach. 

“Owen...” You replied just as quietly. “Before you ask, I’m not gonna fuck you in a closet.” 

“Why not?” He whined. You rolled your eyes. 

“You shouldn’t even have to ask that question.” 

The front door slammed shut and Owen let out a sigh of relief, pushing open the closet door. You stepped past him and made your way over to the bed, Pulling your shirt back on before sitting down to pull your shoes on. 

“Wait where are you going?” He questioned, pouting. 

“Back to set, I have a job to do, remember?” You reminded him, tying your laces on your left shoe before reaching for the right. 

“Can’t you call in sick?” He tried. You raised an eyebrow. 

“From my lunch break?” He shrugged. 

“Food poisoning?” 

“Owen.” You gave him a look and he groaned, flopping onto the bed. 

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do about this?” He motioned towards his crotch. You stood up, grabbing your phone, and walked towards the door, pausing before you exited the room. 

“You have a hand. Use it.” And with that, you left. 

+1. Owen and Charlie’s Kitchen 

It was a day off from filming so you decided to have a lazy day. It was almost lunch time when you woke up, and you would have slept longer if it wasn’t for your phone ringing obnoxiously from its spot on your nightstand. 

You rolled over, grabbing the phone and answered without even checking the caller ID. 

“Hello?” You spoke, voice full of sleep. 

“Good morning, Charlie has gone for a hike, wanna come over?” Owen’s voice came through the phone. 

“Sure, why not. Give me half an hour to have a shower and get changed.” You replied, already climbing out of bed. Owen cheered causing you to smile slightly. 

“Awesome, I’ll see you in half an hour.” He said. “And don’t eat anything.” 

“Okay.” You replied, and before you could even say goodbye he had hung up. You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone back onto the bed and grabbing a simple outfit of a crop t-shirt and shorts out of your wardrobe, before heading into the bathroom to get ready. 

25 minutes later you were knocking on the door of Owen and Charlie’s apartment. The door opened, revealing a shirtless Owen, and you had to stop yourself from checking him out as he let you in. 

“Any reason why I wasn’t allowed to eat?” You questioned, following him down the hall into the kitchen. 

“Because, I thought we could make pancakes together.” He gestured to the pile of ingredients sitting on the counter. 

“How domestic. Didn’t realise we had become a married couple.” You teased, and he blushed slightly. 

“I just thought it would be fun.” He defended, and you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It will be. And delicious.” You agreed.

He grinned, grabbing the ingredients. 

“Let’s get started then.” 

Somehow you found yourself sitting on the counter, eating the batter while Owen cooked the pancakes. 

“There!” Owen exclaimed, flipping the last pancake onto the plate he had gotten out. “All done.” 

He turned to face you, his smile turning into a look of concentration. 

“You have a little something...” He said, positioning himself between your legs. You paused, waiting for him to move. Slowly he lifted his hand, running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“Much better.” He muttered. The two of you were still, a stand off to see who would make the first move. You leaned in slowly, connecting your lips in a soft kiss.

It was as if the first brush of your lips opened the floodgates. Owen grabbed onto your thighs, dragging you forward, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, the pancakes long forgotten.

You tangled your hands through his hair, moaning slightly when you felt his hands on your ass, and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You were so caught up in each other that you didn’t even hear the front door open.

“Hey Owen, I forgot my-” Charlie’s voice came, stopping abruptly as he took in the scene in front of him.

Owen stepped away from you quickly, but even if Charlie hadn’t seen you kissing, it was obvious what the two of you had been up to.

No one blinked. Finally, Owen broke the silence.

“You were meant to be hiking all day.” He said, somewhat defensively.

“I forgot my phone, so I came back for it. I figured you’d be on the couch where I left you. I didn’t realise you’d be...” He stopped, focusing his attention on you. “Hi Y/N.”

You waved awkwardly.

“So...” Charlie looked between you and Owen. “Am I pretending I didn’t see this, or...” He trailed off. 

You and Owen shared a look before nodding.

“Just for now, at least.” You said, and Charlie nodded.

“Got it. Well, have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Oh, and if you have sex on the kitchen counter please clean it afterwards. I eat off that thing.” He winked at Owen and before either of you could respond he had left the room.

“Sorry about him.” Owen sighed slightly.

“You didn’t know he’d leave his phone. Besides, now we can hang out here together and not have to worry about Charlie walking in on something he doesn’t know about.” You replied, and Owen grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

You had just started to find a rhythm in kissing again when a cleared throat broke you apart.

“Dude!” Owen exclaimed, glaring at Charlie who was leaning against the wall, grinning cheekily.

“Just wanted to say goodbye. And warn you that I’ll be back at 3, so make sure any... activities-” He winked suggestively. “Are done by then.”

“Get out.” Owen glared at him. Charlie grinned, turning to leave quickly.

“Bye Y/N!” He called back as he left.

“Bye.” You called, giggling slightly.

Owen rolled his eyes as the front door shut behind Charlie. Focusing his attention back on you he smiled slightly.

“Now where were we?” He questioned, pulling you back in and connecting your lips again.

And if you did end up having sex on the kitchen counter, Charlie would never have to know.

[quotidian-oblivion]

Thanks so much for the tag! I have never seen this type of tag game before, but it sounds really cool. And hey, I'm so happy for you, wallflower, with all those achievements! It's amazing! /gen

Alrighty, uh, I had to think a bit for some, but some immediately popped into my mind cuz I had a squeaking session some days ago. (A squeaking session is just me squeaking about myself to boost up my internal validation bar)

FANDOM

Published 15 works on ao3 and have 9 fics written and to be edited and published and too many to count ideas filled in various word documents. This is... kinda overwhelming in a good way cuz writing... writing's just always been me, y'know? Just always a part of me. A coping mechanism and a hobby.

Written and published two novel-length fics. Wow. I've wanted to publish a novel since I was 10. And now... 10-year-old me is gonna be confused about why its fanfiction, but then squeal when she finds out that it's as long as a novel and wouldn't mind anyway.

I've written more words than I could have ever imagined. 251,825 that are published. Oh God, I love this game.

NON-FANDOM

Started being more aware about my mental health ig? Specifically, when I started writing my first multi-chapter fic. Had to do a lot of research and found things that sounded way too familiar. Then I actually started experiencing some of the things, crashed into a wall (metaphorically), started losing myself and motivation, but starting to regain it and myself back! Yeah lol, fanfic's helped a lot with this.

And my friends did too! Even more so. That's my second celebration. The friends I made. The, uh, online ones that is. The irl ones are... just, y'know, are. But I love my lovely noodles. They're the best ones I could ever ask for. Love ya guys! (No really, I would be walking around with an anxiety attack and be like "this is fine" without you and would be dead. Metaphorically that is. Thank you.)

Being more... mature? Myself? Can't think of the word. But not naive and dumb and cringy and stupid and ignorant and- wait no, this is a self-positivity post. Okay, sorry, so, basically, I changed. Drastically. It started last year, and I swear to God, I'm going through identities and personalities like one would go through thin stockings. Weird metaphor, ik, but im not always the best at it. You get the gist tho. The ppl around me must think a new clone is appearing each month or even week with how much I'm constantly changing myself. My way of talking, behaving, acting, thinking. Just constant change on my "journey to find myself".

I wanna say being more organized and meeting due dates but then we all know that I would be lying. All I can say is that I'm surviving and growing braver by the day (like getting the courage to reveal my singing voice to my friends after four years today + a bunch more! Yay!)

Lol, i went on a ramble. I love rambling. This was great, thank you.

Tagging, with absolutely no pressure, @cygnusdoesthings @tristicorde @wakkoroni @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego @sardonic-sprite + whoever else wants to join in. We would love to have you. Really.

SELF CELEBRATION TAG GAME

Thanks @charmsandtealeaves for the tag! This took a few days of stewing... and then I forgot about it.

I’m not sure what the original rules were, but I’m going with stuff from this year.

FANDOM

Started writing promoted microfics. Published 15 so far. Mostly Jily, one Wolfstar, and one about Angelina Johnson. It's so much fun; I love the microfic community.

Published chapters for All’s Well That Ends Well, I Can’t Love Him and Expectation’s Encumbrance. Will probably take me a couple months to publish the next ones, but hey, who's counting?

Published Three Is a Lucky Number, You Know, which was the labour of an in-proportionate amount of time. Probably one of my favourite things I've written.

This is not really fandom, but it is Tumblr: I can now leave Asks without switching to anon, which used to be difficult/anxiety-invoking. Yay for me!

NON FANDOM

Started bouldering again after a long break. Also picked up a few other hobbies again, which is fun.

Have a +30-day streak on Duolingo. Probably my proudest achievement.

Enrolled in a unit at uni. Pretty happy with myself about this one. I was considering deferring because my mental health was in the dumps last year (not helped by uni), but I'm actually looking forward to this semester.

That's all I can really think of.

Going to tag (obviously, no pressure, sorry if you’ve already done it): @merlinsbbeard @kay-elle-cee @annabtg @practicecourts @quotidian-oblivion @constancezin

[blehblarghblah]

I know this is probably annoying. Great start right. But I just want to say, I read one of your very old stories (the untold avatar one) like once a year. Idk why, I only ever shipped that a little, yet the way you wrote the characters was so dramatic, fun and full of banter that it's one of the stories I haven't gotten out of my head since 2019 when I first read it. I'm not expecting a continuation btw, I'm an author myself and I know how you can lose the passion for a story people deeply love or just don't have the means to write it anymore emotionally speaking. But I just want you to know that whenever I think of that fandom, I specifically think of your fic. And I want to you to know the impact your stories have on people. You're a great author. And I'm sure in the years that passed you have become even better at your craft. You have a real talent at storytelling and especially at building character arcs. And you probably don't hear that enough.

Shit Anon, you got me actually crying here.

I really needed to hear this today.

This isn't annoying in any capacity at all, but instead very refreshing to hear. I gotta preface this with saying that Legends of Avatar: the Untold Story, is a very dear fic to me that I do plan to return to eventually. Not anytime soon, but ATLA's fanbase is timeless and I believe I can return to it whenever. But Taang has always been a special ship to me and so has Legend of Korra's lore and world building, and bridging the two quasi fandoms as a semi canon compliance/divergence fic mixed with a pre-canon timeline was a great challenge.

But in all honesty? That fic was a blast to write. As you say, the characters gave me so much to work with in the lens I wanted and I was warmed to see it was well received. Knowing I was working with an angle perceived as borderline crazy in shaking up canon, but still adhering to a strange set of consistencies was entertaining as I saw people slowly find intrigue. It worked.

Here's a crazy fun fact for all you new followers/readers of mine: all the shit I'm writing right now? Would not be possible if it weren't for Legends of Avatar: the Untold Story. It's why the stories I make today are thought out, thorough, but most of all, as true to character as I can work with. Putting my all into that story taught me that there is a payoff to dedication and practice. I was still an amateur then, but even I look back at that story and occasionally find myself gobsmacked with my prose.

"Wow, I wrote that? Me? Amazing!"

I don't think I'd edit anything aside from grammar mistakes when I do return, but I'm still proud of it. I still have notes and the whole plot laid out, so it's not like I don't know where it'll go. I still have the next chapter WIP set up and already begun. I've reworked it many times, but it's there!

And you, Anon?

You're the reason why I write these stories. I used to grow up reading fanfics, and to this day, I still stay up reading them. But I always had that feeling you describe, the one where when I think of a fandom there's just one fic, fanart, cosplayer, who just comes to mind. I never thought: "Wow, I wanna be that person!" But I always thought,

"I wanna make others feel things with stories the way they made me feel."

Occasional praise like yours is all I need sometimes, because it's a good reminder that though I have progressed as a writer, I still did touch people with my stories even then. Thanks, Anon. And I'm glad I managed to impact you and others, in ways like this.

Stay safe and take care all!

Until next post,

-- Bleh

[faevorite-main-blog]

TOP 5 OF 2020

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Thank you so much to @dragontamerdame for the tag! This is seriously such a fun challenge and I’m grateful for the opportunity to reflect on 2020. This year has definitely been a year to remember. I was able to finally return to tumblr and create new artworks that let me express myself in a way I haven’t in years. I met so many new friends and got to enjoy so many new conversations. Thank you so much everyone for the love you have given me and the endless support. I don’t know where I’d be without you.

Number One: Sun and Moon

This artwork was drawn to participate in @yemiello​ ‘s DTIYS challenge. I’m so incredibly proud of how it turned out. It was the start of a new era of art for me where I stopped focusing on the characters only and started implementing both color schemes and complimentary colors. This expanded into a new series (classical painting inspired drarry) that has meant so much to me already as an artist. It has been such a long time since I felt like what I was creating could actually be considered ‘art’ to myself. This artwork was the start of pushing myself to new limits and letting myself grow and it means so much to me. It was also the first work that I made that I looked back on and thought “Wow, I feel like I created something to be proud of today.”

Number Two: Freefall This was the artwork I made directly after “Sun and Moon” I was experimenting with a new perspective for this one, something I’d never done before and it was both terrifying and exhilarating. I’ve never tried to draw a birds eye view angle before and I wasn’t sure that I could pull it off. I also implemented movement for the first time in my art. The motion blur on the sides of their bodies! At first I was worried that it had been too much and over took the whole painting. After encouragement from @l0vegl0wsinthedark​ and @lazywonderlvnd​ I got the courage to post. I’ve never gone back!! I’m so immensely proud of the growth that this art piece brought me. 

Number Three: Something Borrowed

This was the artwork that started my new series!!! (Something Borrowed) When I was drawing it I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to happen. Notice the hair on Harry’s arm?! Like! My first time truly experimenting with body hair. I was nervous that it wouldn’t turn out the way I wanted it to but looking back on it I’m so glad I took the risk. This was another experiment in new art techniques. At first the canvas started up close with them falling in the lower third. I eventually decided I didn’t like that and added extra ground to the bottom and some grass as foreground. LIFE CHANGING. Now I’m obsessed with adding foreground to everything. Who would’ve thought?! Hahaha. I’m really proud of the detail on this drawing and the angle of Draco’s chest. I stared at him for way too long as I tried to decide if he looked anatomically correct.

Number Four: Something Taken

This was the second art installment in my “Something Borrowed” series. THE BACK MUSCLES ON THIS!!! I am so excited about. It took me way too long to get it right but when I did I could literally sob. I’ve always struggled with the anatomy of backs and the backs of arms. They never look like they do in my head and it takes so much time correcting what my brain does incorrectly. I was (and still am) still learning what ratio of linework to painting I like in my artwork. This drawing ended up with a good percentage of both and I honestly wish I could replicate it but I don’t think I ever could. Also werewolf Harry is my weakness.

Number Five: Herbology

This artwork is seriously one of my favorites. I’m especially proud of Draco’s feet and the angle of Harry’s abs. I have a hard time getting Harry’s nose to match how it appears in my brain and this is the closest his face has gotten to my head canon in a really long time. I struggle with Harry’s face so much. I’m really proud of how the foreground turned out in this, and the way the sunlight dapples across the top of the characters. IT TOOK ME SO FREAKING LONG TO FIGURE THAT STUFF OUT. SEriously. I see artists all the time do it almost effortlessly and holy crap it was freaking hard. I’m still not convinced it looks like light shining through trees but despite this I am still freaking proud. I’ve been waiting for years for an artwork where I could dabble in that lighting technique.

ANYWAYS. THANK YOU! So much for the tag! And thank you for reading through this whole monstrocity of a post. It’s so fun getting to look back on our lives and especially things we’re proud of. I TAG ANYONE WHO WANTS TO BE TAGGED. And I also tag @laurisophi​ @aminathescorpio​ @dewitty1​ @lazywonderlvnd​ @l0vegl0wsinthedark​ @polly-weasley​

[hd-fan-fair]

THE MASTERLIST OF H/D SEX FAIR 2020 FANWORKS

View the full list on [AO3] or under the cut below!

( Fanwork posted in chronological order by type )

ART

1. How hard can it be? (Digital Comic, Mature) Summary: 

Harry and Draco have to stay over at their friends' places for a few weeks, since the renovation of the Grimmauld Place hadn't been completed by the time they were back from their honeymoon. That creates a slight issue with being intimate but the newlyweds are nothing if not creative...

2. Revelio! (Digital, Teen and Up) Summary:

It's that time of year again for Witch Weekly's annual charity event! By popular demand, this year they have prepared a calendar featuring the sexiest studs in the Wizarding World. Gracing the cover in style, the Hogwarts staff is represented by none other than DADA Professor Harry Potter and Potions Professor Draco Malfoy. Grab one before they're gone! Reserve your copy by owl today!

3. Handling Dragons (Digital, Teen and Up) Summary:

Harry brought over dragons to Hogwarts for a new Triwizard Tournament or for a class. Draco is hopelessly turned on by the resident Professor or Hogwarts Medic. Draco wants his dragon tickled by Harry. Unknown to him, Draco is the only dragon Harry wants to manhandle.

4. I plan on getting very wet. (Digital, Mature) Summary:

When they arrived at their private beach holiday, they didn't expect it to rain all the time. Oh well, boys can still find a way to have fun.

5. The Dragon's Boy (Digital Comic, Explicit) Summary:

Harry is chosen to be the next sacrifice to the dragon, but it turns out this dragon is interested in Harry for entirely different reasons.

6. The Art of Trust (Digital, Mature) Summary:

One piece of rope offers what Harry and Draco seek the most from each other.

7. (Intimidating) Brand New World (Digital Comic, Mature) Summary:

Draco's nervously perusing a sex shop for the first time when he sees a flash of dark hair across the store. He'd know it anywhere, but why is Potter here? And what on earth is in that box he's buying? Years of uptight parenting from his parents have left him woefully lacking in knowledge about his newfound interests. Potter's always been rather uncaring of public opinion, perhaps he could be the one to help Draco figure it all out...

ART & FIC

8. as much a light as a flame (6303, Explicit) Summary:

His mother paints a wolf on his chest, its eyes bracketing his heart, and its muzzle pointed towards his groin. His aunt fills in the spaces around his waist and ribs with symbols he's lost the meaning of in the wash of whatever plant had been mixed in with the steam. They move after her brush leaves his skin, turning from incomprehensible marks to his name to wolf to home to hunt and then back to misunderstanding again.

His legs are painted in patterned bands, starting from his ankles and ending at his upper thighs. His groin is left unmarked, the pale and empty skin meant to leave no doubt of the Claim once he makes it.

9. Starkissed (32631, Explicit) Summary:

“Your tattoos!” The intruder says, boldly stepping over Ron’s chaise and crossing in front of Hermione to get to Harry, eyes wide and hungry. Harry immediately sits up, pulling the towel draped across the back of his chair down over his shoulders.   “No! Don’t cover them. They’re beautiful.” Harry hopes an indulgent trip abroad will help shake him out of the doldrums of his life. What he finds once he gets to Venice is more than he ever expected.

  PODFIC

10. Infuse With Affection, Enchant With Love by bafflinghaze (1.5 Hours, Teen and Up) Summary:

It starts with Draco making protective pendants for himself, his parents, and his friends, after the war. Something that would watch their backs—and their fronts—as people spat on them in the streets and hexed them in the alleyways. Draco gets better at it, does a course on it, and takes enough commissions for charmed jewellery that he eventually opens his own shop.

But Harry doesn’t know any of this. So when he sees Malfoy in a shop of charmed necklaces, he immediately tries his best to uncover Malfoy’s machinations.

11. Things Worth Paying For (1.5 Hours, Explicit) Summary:

After leaving post-war Britain for Paris, Draco is finally happy, with friends and a job he loves, But then his newest client turns out to be Harry Potter, and everything changes.

  FIC

12. Three Wishes (10161, Explicit) Summary:

Draco meets his fairy godmother and is granted three wishes. Unfortunately, they all keep coming back to the same thing.

********** Pop! 

"Oh, wow," Vince says, and is that sarcasm Draco hears? "I never saw that coming."

"What?" Draco opens his eyes. He's prepared for the theatrics of the puffs of smoke—Vince, despite the sudden career change, was never blessed with an overactive imagination—but what he was not prepared for was the sight of Harry Potter, bare-chested and dressed in arseless chaps, his hands bound and mouth wrapped around a ball gag while lying face down on Draco's sofa.

13. H.A.G.S. (Hogwarts Alliance for Gender and Sexuality) (9517, Explicit) Summary:

When Hermione decides Hogwarts needs a LGBTQIA+ club, of course Ron and Harry are roped into helping. After a rocky start, Harry begins seeing the club as an opportunity to educate students and celebrate diversity and sexuality at Hogwarts. He also starts seeing it as an opportunity to snog Draco Malfoy.

14. You Don't Know Me (Like You Used To) (33106, Explicit) Summary:

"Buy me a drink as compensation for maiming me?" he asks.

"And why the hell would I do that?" It’s a perfectly valid question. A drink invitation from Harry Potter is about as likely of a scenario as me streaking down Piccadilly in broad daylight. Consider me completely thrown off.

Sometimes it only takes a week to change everything. The story of how twenty-five-year-old Draco Malfoy hit one Harry Potter with a door and knocked both of their lives into somewhere entirely new.

15. the best treasure is up Harry’s arse (2891, Explicit) Summary:

Harry and Draco probably had a tumultuous time getting together, filled with angst and denial and pining and brooding. However, this is not that story. Here, Draco makes Harry come (more than once).

16. Breakin' the Rules (3146, Teen and Up) Summary:

Harry and Draco are Auror partners. They're in a relationship that they've been forced to keep secret due to relationships between Aurors being forbidden. Harry is okay with this, as he hasn't come out to anyone other than Draco, but after a mission goes awry, their relationship is exposed.

17. The HogShagMan (31685, Mature) Summary:

Professor Potter is called upon to teach the first-ever official course on Magical Sexual Relations at Hogwarts and, in the process, must navigate the pitfalls of relationship-building, the nefarious schemings of those entrusted with school funding, and the uneven tempers of his boss and several co-workers. Clearly, only ‘the’ Harry Potter can pull it all off.

18. Let's not wait for France (17714, Teen and Up) Summary:

All Harry had wanted from his Eighth year at Hogwarts was a little peace and a little privacy but, from the moment that he stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, it was obvious that nothing was ever going to be that easy.

An accidental bond with Malfoy that resulted in them having to stay together at all times was the final straw.

Things couldn't be worse. So much to a quiet year in Hogwarts.

19. Take All That You See (19666, Teen and Up) Summary:

Draco Malfoy has only two goals for his eighth year are Hogwarts: 1) stay as invisible as possible, and 2) get enough NEWTs to be accepted at a university abroad and get the hell out of the UK. Everything is going according to plan until he is unceremoniously outed by the Daily Prophet and subsequently disowned.

Finding himself the unexpected focus of unwanted attention and harassment, he is suddenly dependent on the good will and protection of the last people he would have expected — Harry Potter and his gang of do-gooder Gryffindors (plus Luna Lovegood). With his world turned upside down, how will Draco make it through the rest of the year? And worse still, as he grows closer and closer to Harry, how will he get out with his heart intact?

20. True Children Still (34240, Explicit) Summary:

After years of dancing around each other, Draco and Harry have finally begun to date, though they're taking things slow. They've got enough to figure out as it is, and the last thing Harry needs is an unexpected introduction to desires he's not quite ready to face.

21. Asking For A Friend? (13734, Explicit) Summary:

Asking for a friend? Don't be shy! I'm Genna Russ with advice! Draco Malfoy, drag queen and agony aunt for the Daily Prophet, is very happy with his life. He loves his job. He loves his drag queen persona. And he loves the fact that the wider Wizarding world doesn't know who is offering them sassy advice with their morning news.

When he starts receiving letters from one Harry Potter – letters that are too racy to publish – he does the only thing he can do: he replies. His carefully constructed secret life is at risk of being blown wide open, but he just can't help himself. Draco never did have any self-control where the Prat Who Lived was concerned.

22. All I Have to Do (9575, Explicit) Summary:

The Patented Daydream Charm (Adult Edition) allows you to enter a top-quality, highly realistic thirty-minute sexual fantasy. Solitude and privacy spells advised.

Or: Draco finally has some alone time; Harry just needs to nip in for a book.

23. Take My Wonder (3949, Explicit) Summary:

Harry Potter is the author of very well-written children's text books. Joshua Starkweather is the author of not-so-well-written erotic fiction. Only one person knows that they are one and the same.

24. (There Is Nothing) More Than This (5431, Explicit) Summary:

Harry Potter returns home past midnight, distressed and anxious about the multiple murder case that he is leading. His husband Draco looks after him, comforting Harry with his hands, his mouth and his unwavering love.

25. the space between (what you want and what you need) (13601, Mature) Summary:

As a specialist Healer in dark magic, Draco has had his fair share of difficult cases and awkward patients. Still, nothing has prepared him for a curse-paralysed Harry Potter.

26. Walk in the sun (18233, Explicit) Summary:

Harry is perfectly content with the life he built for himself; simple and private, it helps him heal the wounds from the war. He then accepts to go out with one of Neville’s acquaintances, never expecting that decision would bring him back to his obsession for Draco Malfoy.

“That was his cue. Had Harry stopped to think about his situation, he could have left. Malfoy was nibbling at his neck, he had his hand down his pants. All things considered, a disaster incoming. And yet, his feet still refused to move. After all, he was not the stop-to-think-of-consequences kind of guy.”

(Features drunken confessions, bathrooms, a lot of smut, sexy pictures, panties, cats and only one bed)

27. You Need to Just Do Whatever You Want (7998, General) Summary:

Draco's confused when he receives a manual explaining his magical inheritance. Being a veela would be good (at least he would be prettier), and a vampire would have been fine (another excuse to hide himself in the Manor). But a descendant of the God of Love, complete with arrows and a love quota? Now that's just bonkers.

A story in which Draco is Cupid (sort of).

28. Under my Skin (8258, Explicit) Summary:

One year after the war and after Hogwarts restorations, Harry is back at school to finally finish his education. He wasn't expecting McGonagall to assign him to protect Draco Malfoy, in case he was bullied during the classes. Although really just wants to relax on his last year in Hogwarts, he'd seen how Draco had changed at the trials. He knew being around him would be easy enough... Wouldn't it?

29. Glory, glory! (16898, Explicit) Summary:

It's 2005 and Harry has recently purchased a new mobile phone so he can easily keep in touch with his friends. Little did he know that the Muggle technology would lead him down a path of self discovery and safe exploration that would lead him into the soft recesses of the last person he ever expected. As it turns out, very good things can be found in the dark.

30. Husbandly Duties (2108, Explicit) Summary:

Draco and Harry leave their wedding after-party early for some quality one-on-one time.

31. Sex, Relationships & Love (3873, Mature) Summary:

Draco Malfoy runs an anonymous sex advice column in the Witch Weekly magazine and gets hundreds of letters asking him for advice on sex, love and relationships. How was he to know that the advice he had given in response to one of those letters would result in Harry Potter showing up at his flat at 6 in the morning?

32. Disparate (6022, Teen and Up) Summary:

Ever since he went to Hogwarts, Draco realized that he wasn't quite the same as the others.

Or: Draco Malfoy over the years as he tries to understand and accept his sexuality.

33. Silver Scales in Pools of Green (26603, Explicit) Summary:

Draco is one of the last sirens of the seas, who escaped to the human world looking for friendship and food, but captivity found him instead. For seven years, he's gotten used to his life as human entertainment, and prides himself in his ability to make humans fall in step to his song.

That is, until everything falls apart when he has an audience with green eyes...

34. It's So Hard (9170, Explicit) Summary:

Draco has posed for some interesting photos, and it is currently making things very... hard for Harry.

35. On Your Shore (35113, Mature) Summary:

Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too. But both the house and Draco Malfoy have secrets to uncover, and Harry might be in deeper water than he thought.

36. A Little Less Broken (6417, Mature) Summary:

After the war Draco thought he would never feel again. But a mix of revenge gone wrong and Harry Potter, might help him to feel just a little less broken.

37. Always (20147, Explicit) Summary:

In which Draco is the (in)famous erotica writer H.J. Belladonna, writing successful scandalous novel after successful scandalous novel and hiding his true identity, and Harry is questioning his sexuality after reading one of Belladonna’s books. Until ten years after the war their paths cross again, and Harry doesn’t only question his sexuality, but also the meaning of his obsession with Draco Malfoy.

“You look like something my cat dragged in,“ Blaise said from the sofa. Draco’s sofa, in Draco’s tiny flat. “You don’t have a cat, because you’re too vain, Blaise. A cat would get hair all over your expensive clothes,“ Draco replied and then ignored Blaise in favor of going into the kitchen to get some hot sweet tea into his system. Maybe that would make his day better, even if it had just started and the potential for disaster was high. Blaise followed him. “I’ll take one too.“ “You can’t use my home as your personal hotel, Blaise,“ Draco said, but he was already grabbing two cups out of the cupboard. He was too tired to use magic, after writing the whole night, he felt like all the magic had been absorbed by his parchment. Some of his sanity maybe too.

38. Absurd. (3773, Explicit) Summary:

When Draco discovers a kink that Harry's been hiding from him, he has no choice but to explore said kink, right? Right.

39. For Want Of Five Minutes (And a Locked Door) (4333, Mature) Summary:

It’s hard enough to get five minutes to yourself in a house of five kids, nevermind getting five minutes with your boyfriend for anything else.

40. Let Out the Beast (9649, Explicit) Summary:

In the wizarding world where alphas are looked down upon for their lack of control and unseemly aggression, it is generally accepted that they are not allowed to work in places like schools and hospitals where their nature could risk the people there. When Draco Malfoy suddenly shows up at Hogwarts smelling strongly like an alpha, Harry is beyond baffled. The fact that no one else seems to catch his scent only adds to his confusion. But, of course, the most puzzling part is how Harry’s body reacts to that scent.

41. Flowers, Dildos and Other Courtship Gifts (15853, Teen and Up) Summary:

Harry Potter is the Ministry's star auror trainee, and Draco Malfoy is the cute florist in Diagon Alley who Harry stares at through the window during lunch breaks and leaves. That's all they are and all they would ever be. (Really.) Until Harry accidentally mails Draco an autumn themed dildo (among others). Cue: bad planning, owl kidnapping, and flangst.

Or two emotional gay disasters fall in love in the middle of autumn.

42. he touched me, so I live to know (4729, Mature) Summary:

Five times Harry Potter is unsure about touching someone and one time he isn’t.

43. cut my name into your lip (6321, Explicit) Summary:

Harry can't take it anymore. Seriously. If Malfoy chews on the end of his quill/licks his spoon/sucks on the papercut on his finger one more time, Harry's going to put an end to it.

44. Realities, Unfurling (45487, Mature) Summary:

Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban into a changed world.

45. The Delicate Balance of Light and Shade (13288, Explicit) Summary:

With the war finally over, Harry tries to find his own path in a world where he is free to make his own choice. On a holiday in France, he unexpectedly falls in love with art and painting. Returning to Hogwarts to help rebuild it, he is paired up with Draco Malfoy to restore the Room of Requirement - and unexpectedly falls in love with Draco. When the rebuilding efforts are done, Harry disappears.

Years later, Draco goes to Muggle London at Pansy's suggestion to visit an art gallery. The name of the Muggle artist is unknown to Draco, but the subject of the erotic paintings is shockingly familiar: it's Draco himself. It's time to confront the past and make some long-due confessions.

46. Tonight's the Night (Gonna Be Alright) (9181, Explicit) Summary:

Sex is hard to come by when you're 40 and have kids.

Or: Five times Harry and Draco tried and failed to have sex and one time they were successful.

47. The Spoiling of Sex From Enthusiastic Ignorance (6079, Explicit) Summary:

Draco is going to lose his virginity, so help him god, and he's going to lose it to one Harry Potter. Why? Because of his big cock, his status as The Top Five Quidditch Players in England, and Witch Weekly's Most-Eligible Bachelor for eight years straight. At least that's what he tells himself. Too bad first times rarely go as one plans, and now Harry is looking miserable and Draco doesn’t understand why.

48. you killed me on the moon (4906, Explicit) Summary:

'You barely know me. We do not know each other.’

‘Beyond this overwhelming need to submit to you, completely and utterly?’ Potter raises his eyebrows, stretching his scar. ‘Beyond this bone-deep awareness that you are made for me, and I for you? That our destiny was written in the stars, in the very foundation of our known world?’

An A/B/O Royalty!AU wherein a desperate Slytherin prince faces a proposal from the conquering Gryffindor king.

49. i just want your extra time and your... (9058, Explicit) Summary:

Ron should know better than to speak Latin in a magical library. If he’d just left well enough alone, instead of trying to badger Malfoy for the details of his newest novel, Harry wouldn’t have to listen to all of this chatter about how bloody decent Malfoy is, and he wouldn’t be dealing with all of these...feelings. Really, it’s all Ron’s fault that Harry’s mind is stuck on Malfoy like this again.

50. The Kisses Don’t Count, If No One Else Knows (41492, Explicit) Summary:

Minister for Magic Harry Potter does not love his job. The one bright point in his life is his secret relationship with Quidditch Super Star Draco Malfoy. When they're 'outed' by a peeping tom with a camera, Harry has to decide what's really important.

51. You Do Your Body Work, I Feel My Pulse Working Overtime (1627, Explicit) Summary:

Harry did not have an addiction to watching Draco masturbate on camera. He could stop any time he wanted to. Really.

52. Right Romantic Setting (6266, Explicit) Summary:

On the twelfth day of their romantic relationship, Draco and Harry take Albus, Scorpius and Rose on a weekend trip to Muggle London that Ron and Hermione were supposed to lead. At the fully-booked hotel where they'll be staying for the night, they're surprised to discover that their rather plain room has only one bed. It's definitely not the right romantic setting for their first night together but, as Draco comes to realise, there's good in taking things slow.

53. Portrait of a Marriage (130627, Mature) Summary:

Harry didn't want to marry Malfoy, he really didn't, but he also does want this house and Malfoy looked so smug and well - now they are married, and the house still doesn't like him, and Malfoy only looks more smug.

Draco didn't want to marry Potter, he really didn't, but he also does want this house and he never seems to be capable of escaping Potter anyway, so if he is already doomed to being married off he might as well decide for himself what he is worth, sign the papers and ignore everything wrong with that plan until physically no longer possible.

54. Regardless of desire, life hands you who you are (29803, Explicit) Summary:

When Draco finds himself wrongly accused – of course it's Potter who swoops in to save the day. Isn't it always Potter?

[mm2305]

Hi Mil!!

I thought those Meet Cute asks were so much fun!! I am glad you did too!! If you have time I would like to request #35 for Ethan and Olivia.

Thank you!!

-Kate

Please drive!

Pairing : Ethan Ramsey x f!mc (Olivia Valentine) ¦¦ Words/Rating : 1.4k / T ¦¦ Warnings : mention of aggressive dogs ¦¦ Setting : Alternate Universe ¦¦

Prompt : They jump into your car breathless and tell you to keep driving

A/N : Hello!! I'm sorry this took so long but it's here now and I really hope you like this Kate! I certainly had lots of fun with this. Request from the meet cute prompt list (requests still open). Happy reading!

Disclaimer : all characters belong to the rightful owners. Also the Thomas Mendez headcanon here is by @jamespotterthefirst

Masterlist

-/-

It was a warm, sunny afternoon, the sun high upon the sky, the air unusually filled with humidity. A dreadful combination, for sure. The street was mostly empty, the sight of another soul, rare during this time that the heat was at its fullest. Most people would be sensible enough to not go out at 103°F, but as much as he needed to be one of those people, Ethan was on borrowed time that day.

Being an intern at a hospital was probably the hardest - and let's be honest, shittiest- situation you could be in, right? The answer is a big fat no. At least that's what Ethan Ramsey, a doctor who at just his second year as an attending was at the top of his game and highly successful, would say. Why? Because someone has to deal with the interns and that brave soul has to deal with a lot. He speaks from experience.

Hence why this was the only moment he could slip in his schedule to take a break and get some decent coffee. His best friend Tobias, had suggested he go to the new place in the suburbs to get his caffeine fix. Of course, Ethan didn't believe him at first. A coffee shop in the suburbs? Sounds like one of Tobias' usual pranks. Still, his curiosity won and he drove all the way to the suburbs in search of the infamous coffee shop.

He would die before he admitted that Tobias was right, but that was some pretty good coffee. Content and somewhat more ready to go back, he began walking to his car. He could hear some barking in the distance, but that was to be expected. All those rich people around here sure would keep a dog or two. "Well maybe I should adopt the pup Thomas stole. I could use the company of someone not constantly talking" , he thought to himself as he unlocked the car.

Ethan quickly got in and immediately turned on the air conditioning. He sinked into his leather seat and closed his eyes for a minute, finding some relief from the unbearable heat. Suddenly he heard the door of the car open and close along with some very loud barking and he instinctively jumped in his seat, turning to look at the person who jumped in his car.

He didn't even get to utter a word before the woman turned to look at him with pleading eyes.

"Oh my God I'm so sorry for barging in but please please drive ! I'll explain everything I promise!"

Not even thinking about it, he started driving, while keeping an eye on the woman next to him, who was breathing heavily and looking out of the mirrors. It was then that he saw six big dogs running after his car and all that barking he had heard started making sense.

The dogs stopped following them after a few more minutes, their endurance making them seem understandably terrifying. Only then did she relax and take a deep breath.

"Thank you so much for this. I'm so sorry for jumping into your car.", she thanked him with a small smile.

"Uh… it's no problem. Glad I could help."

"I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Olivia Valentine, nice to meet you.", Olivia extended her hand towards him in a handshake.

Turning his eyes on her he briefly shook her hand. "Ethan Ramsey, it's…certainly interesting to meet you"

She laughed slightly at that, shaking her head and looking out of the window.

Ethan couldn't help but really notice how attractive she was. Her hair was gold blonde and tied back into a high ponytail, shaped in loose curls. Her eyes were big and green and her skin was spotless. Olivia wasn't wearing much makeup but what really stood out was her plump, bright red lips, perfectly contrasting with her fair skin. She was dressed in a simple, professional, dark blue , form-fitting dress with black high heels that accentuated her long legs. She was wearing a silver, elegant wrist watch and in her lap rested a black briefcase.

"Would it be okay if I asked what just happened to you, Miss Valentine?", the urge to solve mysteries whether it was regarding medicine or this beautiful woman, propelled him towards asking her this question. Besides she just came out of nowhere, I have a right I ask her. Right?

"Please call me Olivia."

"Only if you call me Ethan"

She grinned and nodded. "Deal"

"So, Ethan , I am a real estate agent. I had an appointment with a client to show him a villa that was for sale but I had been waiting outside the house for thirty minutes and he hadn't shown up. And of course, he didn't even call to let me know that he wouldn't come, instead of letting me roast in the sun. Anyways, I decided to leave and I walked a couple of blocks down the street in hopes of getting a cab. You can guess how well that went in this time and area, so I called a colleague to come pick me up. I was waiting for her to come, when two of these huge ass dogs escaped their homes, thinking I was an intruder just because I passed by and began coming closer, teeth bared and all. Since I am so lucky today, somehow more dogs gathered so I panicked and ran. They started chasing me… and then Olivia met Ethan", she finished her story with a dry chuckle.

Ethan was left speechless. His surprise must have been written all across his face because next thing he knew she was bursting into laughter.

"I'm-I'm sorry… it's just--that you should see your face", she said in between laughing.

"I mean. Wow. And all because of that jerk of a client."

"Definitely a jerk and not only because of that. He's a plastic surgeon and he's all about how successful he is or some shit. "I'm Dr. Thorne and I'm one of the leading plastic surgeons in Massachusetts." As if I give a damn. ", she rolled her eyes hard.

"Dr. Thorne you said? Ugh he's one of the worst of his kind"

"You know him?!"

"Yeah unfortunately. He works in Edenbrook, as do I. I'm a doctor."

"Ohh interesting! Let me guess. Internal medicine?"

"Actually… yes. How did you guess?", he turned to give her a surprised look.

"You previously said of his kind. I know enough about doctors that one working in internal medicine isn't particularly…fond of surgeons. Am I right?", she asked giddily.

Ethan chucked at that. "Yes, you are. Mostly at least"

"Nailed it."

Valentine. Where had he heard that name though…?

"You work in the big firm downtown don't you?" , he stated rather than asked after a moment of silence.

"I was wondering when you would figure it out Dr. Ramsey.", Olivia teased him, smirking.

"I am a diagnostician Ms. Valentine. I notice things. And your firm is difficult to miss"

"Technically not mine. My father owns the business."

"So it's safe to assume, your mother is the doctor?"

"Bravo, Doctor. Yes indeed. She works at Mass Kenmore."

"I see… So. Want me to give you a lift? We're already in the car and your work is on my way.", he raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Sure! Thanks Ethan", she replied, grinning widely.

They spent the rest of the way comfortably talking to each other, both genuinely enjoying each other's company. For someone who was so talkative and gregarious, Ethan found himself interested in anything Olivia had to say. She was smart and confident, but in the most charming way possible. At last they reached the firm and Ethan pulled over.

Both turned to look at each other and started talking simultaneously

"Olivia--"

"I --"

"Ladies first.", he motioned for her to say what she wanted.

"Right. Thank you once again Ethan, both for the save and the ride. It was really nice to meet you.", her hand reached and squeezed his arm.

"You're very welcome, Olivia. I uh… wanted to ask…only if you want to of course… can I have your number?". He was quite visibly stuttering, but he tried to hide it behind a cough.

Olivia looked him in the eyes, clearly seeing through him and smiled. "Yeah, absolutely. Can I have yours too?"

He smiled back at her. "Yes of course"

They exchanged cards and after saying goodbye, Olivia got out of the car and walked back into the office. Just as she sat down at her desk she received a text message.

Ethan : Meet me this Saturday at 8, in "Gaston's Bistro"?

Olivia : I'll be there :)

Ethan : Perfect :D

She put her phone away and got down to work, smiling all the way, already excited for her date this weekend.

-/-

A/N : Of you made it till here, then thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated :)

Taglist :

Perma (all OH edits and fics) : @romewritingshop @codykosuckmytoe @sophxwithers @actuallybored @potionsprefect @ethansramsey @crystalwillow @gryffindordaughterofathena @kiara-36 @mrsethanfreakingramsey @writer-ish @panda9584 @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @queencarb @shanzay44 @nikki-2406 @starryeyedrookie @coffeeheartaddict @schnitzelbutterfingers @mysticaurathings @starrystarrytrouble @lsvdw-blog @izzyourresidentlawyer @silma-words @stygianflood @headoverheelsforramsey @maurine07 @natureblooms24 @a-crepusculo @barbean @choicesaddict5

Fics only : @alina-yol-ramsey

+ @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Please let me know if you want to be moved to another category or totally removed. No hard feelings promise.

[jinpanman]

It's You

pairing: hoseok x fem. reader (+ lowkey yoonjimin)

word count: 14k

genre: pg15, fluff, friends to lovers au, teacher au, coworkers au

warnings: a lot of awkwardness, excessive blushing, drinking, some non-explicit nsfw (dirty thoughts, brief mention of boners, hoseok blurts out wanting to put babies in you😌)

synopsis: An accidental confession throws your years-long friendship with Hoseok into disarray.

a/n: my first finished fic in 2 years!!!!! WOW. from what started out as a literal dream months ago to a 3k monster of illegible scribbles to a 9k mess to this. thank you to the BSH members for being amazing and helpful and oh so wonderful. thank you to Connee @writerly-love​ for being so lovely and encouraging uwu she writes so check her out y’all 💖 and the biggest BIGGEST thank you to my beta reader Melissa @hauntedlilies​ for doing me the biggest solid and helping me with 31982 things in this fic. you have been the best help and your advice and commentary is invaluable to me. thank you for encouraging me and thank you for loving my idiot characters! she draws and writes btw. check her out!!💖 i hope you enjoy this story, dearest reader 🥺🌱 (edited 05/2021)

yoonjimin drabble: It’s You 2.0

Is it normal to be so endeared watching your students jumping with excitement around your colleague?

You love your students, you do. Why else would you have become an after school teacher?  Sometimes, though, there are days when you’re scrambling to come up with an activity hours before the kids flock in from their day class. It’s tiring to always have to be on your toes in order to meet the needs of your students—which change at the switch of a light every day!—but it’s a welcome weight in your life. 

You’re thankful that you don’t have to do it all on your own. Every other week you collaborate with other teachers at the school to foster friendship and camaraderie outside of your student’s usual age range. Today your class is combined with Hoseok’s, and they are all too excited to see their favorite Mr. Hobi. Not that you blame them.

Hoseok claps his hands, drawing the attention of your students whose loud chatter lowers to a hum, albeit still excited. The students flock to him like little ducklings to their mama and you absolutely cannot help but giggle at the sight. He has such a natural chemistry with children and choosing a life as an educator fits him so well. 

Your eyes wander to where your colleague is situated in front of the class. He instructs the students to raise their hands along with him and together they stretch for a good minute. His face is scrunched in a goofy smile as his head tilts, causing his glasses to slip down his nose. Would he mind if you walked over to fix his glasses?

The herbal tea he brought you before class warms your hands as you stand in the back to observe. The steam from the cup brings out a lovely smell of peppermint which you inhale happily. Despite being a strong advocate for coffee and knowing next to nothing about tea, he somehow knew the exact type of tea you liked to drink. You take a long sip and listen to him entice the children with one last hour of fun before they have to go home.

“Okay kids! Today we’re gonna make the ground really pretty for everyone to see tomorrow morning! What do you say?”

They all cheer and he directs them to stand in two orderly lines in front of either of you by the front door while he hands you a bag filled with chalk sticks of varying colors. You raise your brows in curiosity.

“Last minute decision?”

He scoffs and hands a chalk piece to the next student in line.

“No!” You raise a brow at him and he sighs in resignation. “Fine, yes. But no one needs to know that, okay?”

You both laugh in complete understanding of the teacher struggles. Oh, the simple life of a child; so easily amused by a little piece of chalk.

“Teacher, teacher! Come look!”

One student pulls you away from your bad attempt at a portrait of Grumpy Cat, the greatest cat to have walked the earth. You walk over her and she points out something she drew on the cement.

“Look! It’s you and Mr. Hobi!” she exclaims in excitement while jumping up and down.

Sure enough there are two clumsily drawn stick figures. You assume the one with glasses is Hoseok since he’s donned a pair of round glasses today, paired nicely with his red flannel. You applaud her artwork, thanking her for drawing you so nicely, when another student comes up from behind you and squints at their peer’s drawing.

“That looks like Mr. Hobi and his girlfriend!” they say.

“No! That’s not his girlfriend. That’s Ms. Y/N!” she stomps in defiance.

The two students argue until they both yell for Hoseok to come over. Their loud commotion gains many of the other student’s attention and they all seem to watch on with curiosity. He casts a puzzled look at your direction to which you shrug, not entirely sure what your students are trying to prove. When he’s standing beside you they both shoot rapid fire questions.

“Mr. Hobi, who does this look like?”

“No, no! Mr. Hobi, who do you think these are?”

“Do they look like you and Ms. Y/N?”

“No, do they look like you and your girlfriend?”

“Do you even have a girlfriend?”

The other students have somehow flocked around you during this squabble. They giggle and you hear a unison of audible gasps in approval and join in on the questioning.

“Yeah! Do you? Do you?”

Hoseok stands there like a deer caught in headlights, not knowing what to do. His eyes flicker over to you, silently begging for help. Both your students are normally well behaved and usually do well not to ask personal questions about information you don’t voluntarily share. You can’t fault them for forgetting to be polite in the heat of the moment. They are children, after all, so you do your best to redirect them.

“Hey hey, why don’t we let Mr. Hobi speak before you ask any more questions, okay? Remember what Mr. Slug says?” 

They slouch over and robotically recite Mr. Slug’s motto about letting other people take a turn to talk but their eyes still glimmer with hope. It’s clear Hoseok doesn’t know what to say. As much as you want to laugh at his skittish stance, you know it won’t do to leave your fellow teacher hanging. The laughs can come later when the kids are gone.

“Alright, kids why don’t we—” You start to change the subject to shift their attention elsewhere when a student behind you speaks up.

“Ms. Y/N you have to help us!”

The other students join in and echo the plea to find out who Mr. Hobi’s secret girlfriend is. You cup your hands around your face so no one can see you mouthing to Hoseok—earning several groans from your students—and exchange silent communication with him. The easy smile on his face tells you that it’s okay to humor your students today, so you begin to laugh with your students and egg him on.

“Mr. Hobi, please, please, will you tell us?” you ask, putting on a half hearted puppy face and clasp your hands together to appease your students.

You swallow back a snicker at how his face morphs into embarrassment. So maybe this isn’t what he thought you’d pull, but his reaction was worth it. You tease him and poke at his reddening cheeks.

“Ahh, you don’t need to do that,” he mumbles from his pouty lips.

You pull away before he can snatch your hands. Your students laugh at your antics and chant “Mr. Hobi has a cruuush!” You chant along with them in good fun, giggling at your friend’s increasingly flushed face. He seems to finally find his senses and holds his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, alright! Calm down and I’ll tell you who she is.”

The students jump in place, cheering for their victory. His gaze lingers on you, but you think nothing of it, instead donning a shit eating grin. The children waddle in even closer, eager to hear what he has to say.

“Okay, well she’s this really, really pretty lady who likes cats a lot.”

“Ooh, like Ms. Y/N’s cat she drew?” one student interrupts and points to the striped cat you have yet to finish.

“Mhm! Just like her cat.”

“What else? What else?”

“She also doesn’t like coffee at all and makes fun of me for drinking it.” You raise your eyebrows and nod your head in approval. Whoever this lady is, you like her already.

“What does coffee taste like?”

It’s clear he didn’t expect that question and fumbles with trying to explain what coffee is to five and six year olds. You rub at your cheeks, aching from having been smiling for so long. It’s impossible not to smile when you’re around Hoseok. Simply being near him has always been enough to get you to smile.

“Tell us more about your girlfriend please!”

You hadn’t expected them to still be after that and you laugh at their boldness.

“Yeah, c’mon. Who’s this secret lady who hates coffee as much as I do?” you ask cheekily.

“Ah,” he looks away and scratches at his nose. “Well she’s—” 

Just as he’s about to reveal more about this mystery woman, the dismissal bell rings. He clicks his tongue and cackles at the disappointed faces all around him.

“Oh well! Guess you’ll have to wait ‘til next time, kids. Let’s get back to class.”

The students moan and groan but they comply and head back to the classroom to be picked up and go home.

It’s become routine to walk out to your cars together any time your classes are paired. Today is no different. Hoseok waits for you by the door, hair tousled from running after students and long sleeves rolled up his arm, revealing a black watch wrapped around his delicate wrist. As he fiddles with his phone, the rings on his fingers glint under the afternoon rays that sneak through the classroom door sidelight.

“You took your glasses off,” you nod your head at the glasses now tucked inside his shirt pocket. “They looked good on you.”

“Ha. Nice as they are, wearing glasses for too long hurts my ears.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you coo and reach forward to rub his ears. 

He grumbles and swats your hand away. He pushes open the door and motions for you to go first. You think back to the earlier fiasco with the children and wonder how is he still single? Having known him for many years prior to working together, you remember many interested suitors, both men and women alike, trying their hand at wooing him. You can’t think of a single person who doesn’t like him, or at least have a begrudging respect for him.

Outside of your job, you also know he’s the life of the party when you meet up with your friends. Your mind briefly wanders to what it would look like if you were coupled with him. Maybe you’d drive home together and wind down after a long day at work. Then you’d change out of your work clothes, cook a meal together and dance while you’re waiting, maybe even cuddle in bed together until you fall asleep. You’re thinking dangerous thoughts and you take a mental note to chastise your inner conscience when you’re alone.

“So,” you clear your throat and pretend like you hadn’t just imagined a particular fantasy about the man walking beside you, “since the kids brought it up, now I’m actually really curious.”

“Oh man, not you too,” he groans and rubs a hand over his face.

“Hoseok, come on! We’ve been friends for years now and you know what, I don’t remember you ever dating? At least not seriously. Is there anyone you’re interested in these days?” You see the hesitance on his face but you press on. “You know me, Hobi. You know I won’t tell anyone. Not even Yoonji.”

Yoonji, half of the reason why you and he are friends in the first place. The other half being her twin brother, Yoongi. You met Yoonji in your first year of university, and through her you met the crazy bunch you now call your friends. Hoseok and Yoongi had been friends long before college. Once you and Hoseok became acquainted through the twins, you’d bonded over the mutual suffering dealt by them. It had been easy to get along with him, and it didn’t take long at all to move up from acquaintances to friends. You were more than happy when you found out you both had been hired and placed at the same school after university.

He shakes his head at your request. “Nah, you wouldn’t know her anyway.”

“Okay, see! So there’s no problem in me knowing! ‘Cause I don’t know her.” You bump shoulders with him and tug at his arm. “Look, if you really don’t want to tell me, I’ll drop it. I promise. But I really am curious about the person who’s stolen Mr. Hobi’s heart.”

You’ve stopped in front of his car and now there’s nothing to distract him from your pleading face. You do your best not to look like a wide-eyed crazed cat lady and more like the pleading Puss in Boots. You hope it’s working.

“You really wanna know?”

“I do! But only if you’re comfortable telling me.”

“Promise you won’t run away when you find out?”

You’re puzzled by the shift in his demeanor, in the way his voice has dropped to nearly a whisper, but you nod anyway and extend your pinky finger out to him. He brings up his hand to wrap his pinky around yours. You’re taken aback by how seriously he’s taking this, but you wouldn’t do anything to betray his trust. He waits for a few seconds, then nods, seemingly satisfied and stuffs his hands inside his jean pockets.

His eyes are downcast and with a heavy exhale he says quietly, “It’s you.”

You blink. Then you laugh. And you can’t stop laughing. The nervous energy rolls off of you in peals of inappropriate laughter. It isn’t until you see he’s frowning—an expression that doesn’t cross his face often—that you try to reign in your nerves and calm down. 

“You got jokes Hoseok!” you say, trying to lighten the sudden sour mood.

“I’m not trying to be funny. I—I like you.”

Your residual giggling immediately subsides when you realize he really is serious. A wave of confusing emotions wash over you. You’re shocked, you’re confused, and you’re in denial. This can’t be happening. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly as your brain flips through your dictionary of words to try to understand what you’ve just heard.

Frustration spills out of his lips when you remain mute. “It’s you! I want you! It’s been you for years. Is that not what you wanted to hear? Are you satisfied now that you know?”

Wait. What? 

Your mind still hasn’t caught up and all you can do is stare at him. You catch a quiet "fuck” escaping his lips as he roughly rakes his fingers through his already messed hair. He gives you one last glance before he dashes into his car. Seeing him leave finally gets your tongue working.

“Wait.” You try to grab his arm but he’s already shut the car door. “Wait Hobi, I—I’m sorry. No, no wait please!”

He drives off without a single glance back.

You have never felt like the shittiest person to exist on this planet until now. You survey the lot to make sure no one witnessed this scene and are relieved to find no one. You scurry into your car, forcing back the hot tears that want to come out. 

You don’t deserve to cry after being so cruel. Even if it was unintentional. You scramble for your phone as soon as you’re strapped in. The screen immediately unlocks once your face is in view and you swipe on your best friend’s number starred at the top of your contacts list.

Yoonji picks up after the third ring and her voice drawls out through the speaker, “Did Hobi finally spill the beans, ‘cause thank fucking god.“

You briefly register that you can hear Yoongi in the background talking to another man whose distressed voice sounds vaguely familiar. Blinking your tears away, it takes a second for Yoonji’s words to sink in and you are, for the second time today, at a loss for words. You’re out of the parking lot when your voice finds itself but your brain has yet to catch up, still stuck on those three words that came out of Hoseok’s mouth.

"Wait, wait, wait. Yoonji. You knew? About him? But—wait. How did you—why didn’t you know—er, tell me?” Your free hand flies wildly in the air as you drive.

“He’s not exactly subtle about his feelings for you, you know. Do you not remember last month when you complained about wanting milk tea and he immediately dropped everything to personally drive to a shop 10 minutes away to get you one—a large one, might I add!—with ‘for miss beautiful’ written on the side of the cup?” 

“He does that for everyone,” you mumble into your phone.

“No he does not. You’re just a dumb squirrel and apparently he’s attracted to dumb squirrels.” You don’t need to see her to know she’s pacing mid rant and examining her freshly manicured nails like the princess she is. You wish you knew how she had the funds and time to repaint her nails every other week.

“How come I never noticed?” you ask, pointedly ignoring the squirrel jab.

“Again, you’re a dumb squirrel—”

“What am I gonna do? I didn’t mean to make him feel bad about confessing to me. I feel like such an ass,” you whine into your phone, once again ignoring her insult. You roll your eyes at the fake sounds of her humming in thought. She enjoys making you antsy beyond belief way too much.

“Yoonji! Stop teasing me please!” Your face contorts into the best puppy face you could muster, and you’re sure the driver next to you is giving you a weird look.

“Ew, gross. I can feel your puppy eyes on me 70 miles away. Stop it.”

Worth it.

“Well first of all,” she begins, “you were an ass. How would you feel if you confessed to someone and the first thing they do is laugh? That was shitty of you, babe!”

If you weren’t driving, you would have hung your head in shame. “Yeah, I know…”

“Mhm. At least you know.” As much as she loves you, Hoseok’s her friend too. You don’t blame her for not comforting you. “Anyway, you could go about this several ways. One, let him down easy. Or two, open your eyes and realize you feel the same way. Or three, avoid him for the rest of your life and run away to a convent to make certain you’ll never see him again.”

You whine again, just as pathetically as the first time. “You’re not helping! Those are all impossible!”

“Fine, fine.” She sighs into the phone. “So answer this for me then. Do you like him?”

And that there is the million dollar question. Do you like him? You’ve never given yourself the luxury of seeing him in that way. He was obviously a very attractive man with an equally captivating personality. Yes, he may have made your heart flutter at least a dozen times in the time you’ve known him. Okay, so maybe more than a dozen… 

And yes, you may have indulged in one or two fantasies about what it would be like to date him but you never allowed your mind to wander farther than a few innocent thoughts. You valued your friendship with him far too much to divulge in selfish daydreams. You reveal as much to your friend.

“Babe, all I can tell you is that knowing Hoseok, he’s probably at home wallowing in despair and embarrassment and will probably hate himself for making you uncomfortable. Aaand drinking himself silly because he’s stupid.” 

You hear Yoongi snort in the background.

“B-but I’m not—”

“So go tell him yourself then!”

“Ah Yoonjiii..” you whine... again.

“Figure it out, bitch! I gotta finish painting my nails now. Love youuu!” She hangs up before you can wail her name once more and you’re left to stew in your feelings for the rest of the evening.

The following day, Hoseok doesn’t show up for work. Or the next. By the third day, you’re tempted to ask your supervisor if he still even works here. Okay, so maybe you’re overreacting a little bit. Maybe Yoongi would know if he was still alive, but then he’d pry into why you’re asking in the first place and you’re not ready to answer any questions. 

You’ve just gotten home and your shoulders droop heavily. You have yet to receive any news or texts from Hoseok since he left you in the parking lot that day. It didn’t help that the kids were exceptionally testy today.

Your mind is riddled with worry, but rather than for yourself, you worry about him. Actually if you’re being honest, you’ve been thinking about him endlessly since then. You hope he’s taking care of himself. You want to apologize. You need to apologize. This realization is what helps you to make your decision. 

With a sudden blaze of courage, you grab your purse off the couch and head out to the bus stop just a street down your place. It takes about thirty minutes with one bus transfer that leads you directly to his apartment complex. You’ve been there many times and while you know the route by heart, this visit feels like a whole new experience.

Your feet know exactly where to go and how many steps to take, leading you out the bus, into the apartment complex, and up the elevator until you’re standing in front of his door. You stare at his door and a brief flash of doubt rings alarms in your head. You ring the bell before you can overthink your actions. A few seconds later his voice chimes out from the speaker box.

“Who is it?” 

His voice sounds very tired. Has he not been sleeping well?

“Hello?” He tries again.

You lightly slap your cheeks, bringing yourself back. You weren’t even aware you had frozen up.

“Hey, it’s me. Um, Y/N.”

No answer.

"Can we—can we talk?”

Again, you are met with silence.

Your fingers twiddle with the hem of your shirt, unsure of your next move. You came all the way here on complete impulse. You don’t do well when you don’t have a plan. And right now, you have no plan, which is ironic, considering you’re a teacher for young children who require a level of spontaneity every day. 

You’re itching to escape but your feet remain wooden against the pavement. You bend your head down and glare at your legs, willing them to move goddammit. You nearly find the will to finally bolt when you hear the door creak open. Your head whips up and you immediately seek out his face. You come eye to eye with a disheveled looking Hoseok hiding behind his door. His bleary, sunken eyes follow you warily as you take a step forward and blurt out his name, but before you can get another word in he addresses you.

“Look, I don’t need a pity party okay?” He pauses to slink further away from the already small opening through the door. “Especially from you. It was a mistake and I’m sorry that happened. I shouldn’t have told you like that and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was a bad move.” 

You open your mouth and breathe in, ready to counter his allegation but he puts a hand up, an unspoken request to continue talking uninterrupted. “I just need a few more days to clear my mind. I can’t promise I’ll be okay soon but—”

You interrupt him anyway.

“I’m not saying no Hobi,” your voice is meek but you mentally pat yourself on the back for finally finding your voice.

“Wha—what? What did you… er, what do you mean?”

“I,” you pause to collect your thoughts but alas, when you have no plan your brain goes haywire and your mouth rambles away without your permission. “Well, first I want to apologize for forcing you to talk and for not taking you seriously. I really didn’t mean to disregard your feelings or make fun of you. You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all actually! It’s just that… no one’s ever—I mean, I didn’t think you saw me in that way and, well, I mean I always thought you were cute. You’re so handsome and dreamy and you’re funny and when you smile your eyes crinkle into little moons and your hearts a smile. I mean! Your smile, it makes a heart and I love it so much and I, um, but I didn't—I mean I don’t know why you even like me in the first place.” You laugh nervously, anxiety rising up inside you like bile at not being able to get the words out right.

A warm hand wraps around yours and you’re bewildered. He’s opened the door just big enough to let his hand out to hold yours. He’s the one hurting and yet he reaches out to comfort you when you showed the slightest unease. If anything, he should be lashing out at you right now. The warmth in his eyes tells you he has no intention of doing that. His thoughtfulness and care towards you, even after you hurt him, causes your heart to stutter and you fight on despite your nerves.

“I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m still not sure about my feelings but I’m willing to try? If you are too? I don’t really know how to do this, but—but I’m willing to explore whatever this could be with you. And I’m not saying you have to consider my feelings because that isn’t fair to you. You can absolutely tell me to fuck off and I won’t bother you again. Um, yeah I think—I think that’s it.”

God, you can’t wait to get home so you can punch your pillows for rambling so much! You stand there, staring at the side of the door so it looks like you’re looking at him but you’re really not. Your halfhearted smile slowly dwindles into a tight lipped smile the longer he stays silent and you’re wondering if now’s a good time to skedaddle.

“Okay, got it. I’m sorry Hoseok—” You turn your back to him, completely prepared to walk away with your tail tucked.

“Can I hug you?”

You whirl around and blink owlishly at him and stutter embarrassingly so. “What?”

“Can I hug you?”

“I mean, y-yeah? I guess?”

You’re dying internally over how your voice squeaks and inflects into a higher, unsure tone. He pushes the door open and pulls you by your hands into his arms, effectively drawing you away from your internal conflict. The feeling of his warmth around you sends your heart into an unfamiliar tangle of emotions. 

Hoseok has always been the best bear hugger. He believed hugs revealed what a person was like, and his preference for full hugs definitely conveyed his desire for physical contact with the people he loved. This hug, though, was different in the way that he held you so close to him, with his face nuzzled in your hair. You breathe in his scent that’s brought you comfort throughout the years and wrap your arms around his waist. You feel his arms tighten and pull you closer into him. You pray the stuttering heartbeat felt between the two of you isn’t only yours. 

After a long minute of silence—which somehow felt like one hour and one second all at once—he murmurs close to your ear, “If this is you giving me the okay, then I’m not gonna hold back anymore and I’m going to pursue you honestly. And… hopefully show you that my feelings for you are sincere.”

You let out an involuntary squeak much to your horror and hide your face into his chest, not trusting yourself to speak. You feel the shake of his shoulders as he laughs, the puff of breath tickling the back of your neck, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. He eventually pulls away from your hug but instead of letting go, his hands reach down to hold your own and he looks down at you with shining eyes. His face paints a tender gaze and the combination of how he smiles at you has you bashful so instead, you focus on the way his thumb rubs against yours. It only sends your heart into further overdrive.

“It’s late.” His voice is soft as he speaks to you. "Did you drive here?”

You shake your head no. Then you gasp and tilt your head in mild bewilderment.

Okay but why didn’t you drive? Are you dumb or are you dumb? You try to convince yourself you took the bus to save Mother Earth. Not because you were in such a hurry to see him that you forgot you have a car.

“Let me drive you home then,” he says and squeezes your hands.

“No, no it’s okay. I can get a taxi!”

He shakes his head in disapproval. “I can’t let you do that. It’s dark out now and I’d feel much better if I take you myself.”

“Hobi, I’ll be fine. I promise!” His brows furrow and you bring your arm up to flex your bicep. “See, look! I’m a strong girl.”

He’s entirely unimpressed and rolls his eyes. “Look, either you let me take you home or you’ll have to sleep over tonight. I don’t want you going home by yourself.”

“Eh?” Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. You’re a deer in headlights thinking about a night alone with him. Nope. No way. Nu-uh. Vetoed. You won’t survive. Especially not after your almost-kind-of-but-not-really confession. 

You sigh in defeat and bow your head.

“Fiiine. You can take me home, I guess.”

He grins and while you’re pouting that he won this trivial argument, your heart is whistling a happy tune at seeing a smile grace his face once again. You wait outside while he grabs his wallet and keys. When he reemerges from inside his house, he gestures to his left.

“Ready to go?”

“Mhm!” You motion for him to lead the way and you follow after him.

The car ride back to your place is quiet, save for the low ambiance of his music playing on the stereo, but it’s a comfortable silence. You have more questions you want to ask. There’s still a lot you want to know, but you figure you’ve both had enough of a surprise tonight. You trust that there will be many opportunities in the near future to ask.

Once he’s parked his car outside your apartment, you turn to thank him and bid him goodnight only to be met with an empty seat. He’s already outside, waiting for you.

“Hobi you didn’t have to come out!” you protest as you exit the vehicle. “It’s cold!”

He only hums in response and walks with you to the front entrance. You’re half expecting a goodbye hug, considering he’s out here with you, and you’re surprised to feel your chest swirl in disappointment that he does neither of those. Instead, he takes a step away from you and the words that leave his mouth bring you a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“We’ll take this slow, yeah? I don’t expect you to know how you feel by tomorrow or even next month. I’ve waited this long. I can wait a little longer.”

He strokes your cheek, lingering in front of you for a few more seconds. He leaves you with his touch etched onto your cheek. You fall asleep with the sole thought that you wouldn’t mind falling for Jung Hoseok.

The following morning feels like a daze and you’re on autopilot for the rest of the week. Before you know it, it’s your biweekly get-together with your gang. You’d gained a chaotic but solid group of friends in your college days. While the group has slowly decreased over the past two years after graduating, your bond is still as strong, even if you don’t meet as often as you used to.

It’s Hoseok’s turn to host this time and you’re freaking out. You recount every conversation you’ve had with him this past week at school. The both of you made a point to only talk about school related topics, very obviously ignoring the elephant in the room. The only thing that’s changed is the rate of daily text messages between the two of you. You now awaken to “good morning texts.” Throughout the day, you send each other “this reminded me of you” texts and end each night with “how was your day?” texts. Your heart is slowly becoming conditioned to jump any time his name appears on your phone screen. Today is no different. Your heart is racing at the thought of finally seeing Hoseok outside of work.

[Y&Y’s Minions Group Chat]

Taetae: aye bro heads up im bringing some juice w me

Taetae: yknow. for us nonalcoholics.

Hobibi: 👍

Yoonji(min’s Wife): weak ass bitch 🙄

Taetae: Shut up or im not bringing jimin with me 🥱

Min Suga: she just punched me cause i laughed man wtf

Taetae: 🤣🤣🤣🤣

You: LOOOLLL it’s what you deserve

You: also tq for bringing juice taetae 🤧 idk if i can handle another of jimins mystery concoctions 😩

Taetae: that’s what you got hobi for right?

Hobibi: Exactly ;)

Min Suga: right. like he can hold his alcohol????

Hobibi: also can yall actually come on time so we can start our movie early?

Hobibi: dude i’ve gotten better at drinking tghank you very much

Yoonji(min’s Wife): sorry what im jared 19

Min Suga: she lies. shes putting makeup on for Park

[IMG_2831 delivered]

You: lmaaaoooo you got called out babe!!!

Yoonji(min’s Wife): fuck you min yoongi. find ur own ride there bitch <3

You snort reading through the messages. One day someone’s gonna fight and you have no doubt Yoonji will be one of the contenders. You’ve already resigned yourself to the role of her babysitter, knowing full well you’ll be tending to her every whim and command the day it happens as well as the following day of her recovery. Your phone pings again. 

It’s a separate text message from Hoseok.

Hobibi: i can’t wait to see you beautiful :)

You gasp audibly and your face heats up instantly. You’re grateful there’s no one around to hear you. What should you text back? You’re still unfamiliar with the Hobi who flirts. He is flirting, right? You fumble with your phone, heart racing a mile a minute, texting a (hopefully) flirty reply back when Yoonji’s winking selca takes over your screen. You drag your finger across the Accept button and her voice drawls out from your speaker.

“I’m heeerre!! Come outside so we can get wasted tonight!”

You snort and hang up without replying back to her. As soon as you plop into the passenger seat she thrusts a bottle of alcohol into your hands.

“Drink.”

Apparently, her idea of calming you down is with some pregame booze. 

It doesn’t help.

When you arrive at his apartment, you attach yourself to Yoonji’s back, but she was having none of that. Her shared telepathic powers with her equally chaotic twin brother draw them together as soon as they’re in the same room. You squeak at having been left behind and follow her, intent on hiding behind her the whole night. 

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have blindly followed after your friend because the person accompanying Yoongi was none other than his best friend who also happened to be the man you were trying to avoid… which wouldn’t have worked anyway considering this was his home. Yoonji drags you out from behind her and you’re given no chance to pretend like you weren’t hiding. 

You shoot daggers into her boobs, praying that her boobs will swell and explode right in front of Jimin for outing you like this. You clear your throat and straighten out your shirt, then exchange greetings with the two men, feigning nonchalance. You don’t mean to but your eyes flicker down Hoseok’s figure. His hair looks freshly dried and curls around his face in the most beautiful way. A thin blue crew neck sweater hangs off his shoulders and hugs his torso just right, but when do his clothes not fit him well? It’s cut low enough to just tease the outline of his collarbones and it doesn’t help you with your already heightened nerves. You gulp and lower your gaze. For some godforsaken reason, he decided it was a good idea to roll the sleeves up and expose his forearms. You’re on your way past his hips when—

“You look beautiful tonight.”

Oh dear, did he catch you staring? 

His voice draws your gaze back to him and you find him looking right at you with a shy smile that flutters your heart. A compliment from him would usually have elicited a laugh and a “thank you Hobi.” Now, it evokes a stutter and a burning face. It’s a change the twins catch onto quickly. They exchange knowing glances which neither you nor Hoseok see, too busy staring at each other.

And then you’re colliding into each other.

“Oops!” Yoonji cackles and raises her glass to her brother.

"My bad. My hand slipped.” Yoongi raises his own and clinks his drink with hers. They take a sip and completely ignore the two frozen statues beside them.

“Hey, what do you say we go say hi to the soulmates?”

“Right on my sweetums. Let’s go find your loverboy.”

“You’re disgusting and also you’re wrong.”

Yoongi forcefully links arms with his sister and they shuffle away still bickering, meanwhile you and Hoseok are a blushing mess, locked in each other’s arms. His hands burn pressed against your lower back and you pull yourself away from him. You ignore the way your body screams at you for leaving his warmth. Your eyes flit around, looking at everything except for him. And then it lands on a sliver of skin peeking out behind his sweater that had risen up in this blunder.

Wait. This is bad. Don’t focus on that. 

Focus on your annoying best friend. Yeah… this is all her fault.

“Sorry Yoonji’s such a pain in the ass.”

“Understatement of the year.” He snorts and readjusts his sweater back down. You bite back a pitiful whine and suddenly you have no idea who you’ve become.

“They’re both menaces. Remind me never to have them in the same room again.“

You laugh at the truth in his words and then it’s back to a dead silence. One you’re not used to, especially not with him. He rubs the side of his arm and clears his throat.

"Um, well, you know, if being here makes you uncomfortable it’s okay to leave. My feelings won’t be hurt. Or I can just, I don’t know, not talk to you tonight? If that’s what you want?”

You wince at his offer.

“No!” you say immediately, wanting to remedy his misinterpretation of the nervous waves radiating off you. “I wanted to come! I… well, as nervous as I am, I wanted to see you?”

He lets out a dry laugh. “Oh, right. I could definitely tell from the way you hid behind Yoonji as soon as you got here.”

You force out a weak laugh at having been caught. Should you apologize or yeet yourself out of this situation? Thankfully, he makes the decision for you.

“Why don’t we go say hi to Tae and Jimin? Since you just got here.”

You swallow the apology that hangs on your tongue and nod slowly. You walk in silence to where the rest of the gang is gathered. Yoongi and Jimin are engrossed in a conversation about the latest EP released by their favorite duo RM and JK. Meanwhile Yoonji is making very no-so-subtle heart eyes at Jimin while Taehyung is chatting away about something she obviously has no interest in.

You’ve known Jimin for a few years and he’s only just started coming along this past year to your meetups with Taehyung, his childhood friend. He integrated so well into your little group and you all were quick to adopt him and dub him as the Resident Giggly for how beautiful his laughs were. His bubbling personality also somehow snatched the Resident Shady’s heart, despite her always denying it. You decide to do your friend a solid and save her from Taehyung’s ramblings. It’s definitely not to distract yourself from the Resident Smiles beside you.

“Hey Taetae!” you call out to the broad shouldered man who turns around, bright eyed and smiley. You notice a cup in his hand that you hope is just juice. He doesn’t drink often but when he does… Well, you certainly won’t want to be present.

“Y/N you’re here! Finally someone who will listen to me!” He pulls you into a side hug.

You laugh. “That’s ‘cause she’s too busy making goo goo eyes at—oof!”

Yoonji shoves Taehyung who still has his arms draped around your shoulder. He trips and sends you nearly toppling over as well. An arm wraps around your waist to steady you. Hoseok pulls you to his side, a safe distance away from the two rowdy ones.

“If you both know what’s good for you, you will shut up or else!” she hisses between her teeth. The blush growing on her cheeks tells you otherwise, though.

“I love you too, Yoonji poo!” Taehyung teases and pinches her cheeks.

She slaps his hands away, scowling. Then her attention redirects to you and you don’t like the way her eyes have turned alight. She nudges Taeyung and nods her head at you and Hoseok. He looks at the pair of you and his lips turn up into a sinister smirk.

“Well, well, well. Wouldya look at that?” You don’t like that both his and Yoonji’s smug faces are now focused on you. “So anyone wanna tell me when you two became a thing?”

You and Hoseok share a confused albeit nervous look. It’s then you realize how close you are to each other and you don’t hate the close proximity.

“You do realize you have your arm around her, right hyung?”

It’s not until he points it out that Hoseok realizes he never let go of you. The arm that rested around your hips tears away from your body and falls back limply to his side. Yoonji snorts at how fast he let you go and you try your best to hide your disappointment, calling upon all the times you’ve had to school your face of irritation at work.  You note that he doesn’t move away though, and his hand ghosts yours with every breath he takes.

“Don’t be mean Tae,” you scold him and push him away.

“It’s not like that. We’re not a couple.” Hoseok’s strong protest wavers at the last word and the way his ears redden don’t do well to support his claim. Your face flushes at his word choice.

“Who’s not a couple?” Jimin pops in, hands propped around Taehyung’s shoulder.

Taehyung eyes Yoonji and says with a smirk, “You and Yoo—mmph!”

Yoonji pounces on Taehyung and slaps a hand over his mouth. In typical Jimin fashion, he falls to his knees, laughing at their bizarre antics. As much as those two clashed, you knew they loved each other a ridiculous amount. You tug at Hoseok’s shirt sleeve and ask if he wants to get a drink.

He nods in agreement. “Yeah, let’s go before they strike again.”

The two of you share a laugh and head into the kitchen where two glass bowls are filled to the brim with dark liquids. The smell of alcohol reeks from the one nearest you and you nearly gag.

“Did Jimin make this?” you scowl and point accusingly at the punch bowl with a dark red liquid sparkling dangerously. You hope alcohol doesn’t spread through air particles because if it does, the other punch bowl is surely spiked by now.

“What did you expect?” He chuckles and hands you a glass cup.

You grab the ladle laying beside what you hope is the nonalcoholic drink and pour into your cup.

“Hey, so um… about earlier,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, “er, sorry about that. I didn’t even know I was still... touching you.”

“Ah, no it’s okay. I didn’t know either actually.” You take in a breath and brace yourself for what you’re about to admit out loud, “To be honest, I kind of liked it.”

You hear him take in a sharp inhale after your confession and you wonder who’s blushing harder. Probably you. You hand the ladle to him and hold your breath when his fingers graze yours.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time.” He recovers quickly and winks at you. Your recovery rate is much slower and his wink only sets you back further. “So, um, I’ll let you catch up with everyone. I gotta go set up for the movie anyway. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He briefly reaches his hand to brush against your cheek, then leaves you alone, starstruck in the kitchen, to be the good host that he is. The rest of the night goes off without any other hitches. Plenty of laughter is shared between the lot of you. Jimin may have tried to spike the literal juice bowl a few times, but both Taehyung and Yoongi dragged him away each time. 

Throughout the night, you find yourself unconsciously scanning the room for Hoseok only to be met with a pair of brown eyes already looking at you. Each time you make eye contact, you both blush and look away at having been caught staring. Each time it happens, your friends turn around to stick their fingers in their open mouths and fake a gag.

You’re on popcorn duty as the evening begins to settle down for the “movie” part of movie night to finally start. You emerge from the kitchen with three large bowls with freshly popped and buttered popcorn. You sigh with resignation when you see only two available empty seats. One next to Hoseok on the love seat and one in between Yoonji and Jimin. You absolutely are not ready to be in such close proximity with Hoseok for the next two hours, but you also don’t want to cock block Yoonji. 

Although she’d never admit it to anyone, you knew she harbored a secret crush on Jimin. Anyone else outside your group and they wouldn’t know any better, but every one of you except the object of her affections knew those faux mean jabs and rosy cheeks were reserved for Jimin and Jimin only. You have a suspicion that he felt the same way about her with the way he always seemed to apparate in whatever room she’s in just to giggle at whatever she says or does. You can’t wait for the day they both stop toeing the line and confess to each other.

You pass out two of the three bowls of popcorn and peek over at Yoonji and Jimin. Jimin’s leaning over the empty seat, phone outstretched to show something to Yoonji. Their voices are hushed but you can see her lips curled into a dopey smile. Right, no cock blocking. Your gaze flickers to where Hoseok is seated. Okay girl, you got this. No time to be a chicken or Taehyung and Yoonji will never let you live it down.

Your leg collides with his when you sit down and your poor heart is once again fluttering. Should you let it stay there or should you move your leg? Why are you suddenly so self conscious about every move you make around him? The answer was obvious but let a girl stay in denial, please.

Unbeknownst to you, the man sitting next to you was going through his own inner turmoil. Should he act like his usual self? Should he be chill? Should he try to flirt? He wants to put his arm around you, but what if he came on too strong and scared you off? Before the both of you noticed, the film was already ten minutes in, popcorn in your hands untouched.

“Hey, Hobi! Y/N! If you two aren’t gonna eat your popcorn, pass it on!” Taehyung shouts over the movie with a mouth full of popcorn.

He pulls you out of your thoughts and you grimace at the way the light from the television makes the butter grease around his mouth shimmer in the dark room.

“You’re disgusting. Swallow your food before you speak, you heathen. And for the record, we aren’t sharing.”

Hoseok grabs the bowl from you, smushes it into his chest, and grabs a large handful shoving it into his mouth as if to prove a point. Several pieces of popcorn fall out of his hand back into the bowl. In his haste, he gets grease all over his outer mouth. Your mind dares to flash a dirty thought about the lubricant on his lips and you cup a hand over your mouth. 

Oh god. 

Your brain really just went there. 

You make a point to ignore the way your body heats up and instead reach over to wipe the oil off his mouth with a swipe of your thumb. He looks at you quizzically and when you lock eyes you both freeze. His eyes grow comically wide, his jaw locked mid chew.

Hold on. Did you just touch Hoseok’s mouth? With your thumb?

“Gross.” Taehyung grumbles at the sight of you and turns away to focus back on the movie.

You pull away quickly and shift in your seat. “S-sorry your mouth was dirty and, um, well, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Um… thank you.” He wipes off the remainder of what you miss with the back of his hand and offers you a sheepish smile. And with that, you fall into another silence, popcorn once again forgotten. 

Great. Back to square one.

By the time the end credits roll out, everyone is dead asleep save for you who remained wide awake thanks to your very imaginative and hyperactive brain. You decide to disregard the awkward cloud that hung over you and Hoseok tonight to figure out all your sleeping arrangements. It isn’t unusual for everyone to crash at the host’s place, drunk or sober, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble. You arch your back off the couch and stretch your tense body, letting out a soft moan as your muscles loosen up.

“Hey, Hobi?”

When you don’t get a response you look over to find him leaned against the couch with his eyes closed and lips scrunched in a small pout. His chest raises rhythmically and you feel bad for having to wake him. You’re nearly tempted to push back his hair to get a better look at his sleeping face. You scoot closer to him and shake him by the shoulder while softly calling his name. He jolts slightly and his eyes flutter open, scanning the room until they fall on you. Your breath hitches in your throat seeing his eyes slowly light up with recognition.

“Hobi,” you try again, voice quiet so as not to disturb him, still in a state of slumber. Your hand rests on his arm and you can’t find it in you to remove it.

He calls out your name, tenderly, carefully. You bite your lip to hide the way it wants to curl into a smile at the way he whispers your name. You don’t realize how close you’d gotten to him until his hand moves a mere inch to rest atop yours. You twist your hand up until your palms are touching. Your fingers instinctively curl around the slots between his own. You feel his fingers twitch but neither of you makes a move to actually embrace, instead reveling in the way both of you vibrate with warmth.

“Sorry I woke you. I just figured you wouldn’t appreciate having everyone drooling all over your couch and carpet tonight.”

He shifts in his seat so that he’s sitting upright and squints at the fallen figures scattered around the room. Then he shrugs.

“Who gives a fuck. Let them sleep there.”

You giggle at his remark and nod in understanding. It would only be too much work to try to move them and you definitely did not want to deal with a drunk and sleepy Yoongi.

“Why don’t you go sleep in your room then, and I’ll see you in the morning?” You take the popcorn bowl laying haphazardly on his lap and set it on the coffee table in front of you. 

“No, no. You go sleep there. I’ll sleep here tonight.”

You scoff. “You don’t need to be a gentleman, my dude. This is your house, it’s late, and we both need to sleep.”

“You’re exactly right, it's my house. My house, my rules. And I say that you’re sleeping on my bed tonight. I won’t let you take the couch.”

“Hoseok!”

“Do you want to share it with me then?”

Your words die in your mouth and you gape at him. He nods and says, “That’s what I thought.”

“Oh my god, you are insufferable. Fine, take me to your room. Wait.” Your ear begins to burn as soon as you blurt out that sentence, the insinuation not lost on you. Oh god, why did you have to say it like that? “I mean, uh, er, I’ll just go by myself.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. C’mon, I’ll take you.”

If he’s flustered by your request, he doesn’t show it. Instead he helps you up from the love seat and leads the way to his room. Despite having been to his house many times, you’d never actually seen his bedroom. There was never a need to go in there and now the first time you’re going in is after you find out he likes you. It’s a lot to process.

His room is a lot cleaner than you thought it’d be. The first thing to catch your eye is a shelf filled with a mixture of figurines and music albums. You appreciate that he hasn’t abandoned his likes and hobbies for the sake of appearing more mature. Beside it is a desk littered with books and paper scrap, presumably for work. In the left corner of his room rests his bed; a thin wool blanket lies unmade at one side.

“Sorry my room is so messy. I didn’t think anyone would be sleeping in here tonight,” he says as he rummages through his drawers.

“If you call this messy, you don’t wanna see my room,” you mutter.

He says nothing back until he finds what he’s looking for. He calls your name and tosses a large shirt and gym short your way.

“You can change into those. I think they’ll be comfier than what you have on right now.” He turns away and scratches the back of his neck. “Um, I’ll, uh, let you do your thing and, um, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks, Hobi.” You reach out for his hand and squeeze it. He’s blushing again. You like it when he blushes. Maybe you’ll have to initiate this more often. Holding his hand, that is.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, beautiful.” The giggle that escapes from your lips causes his heart to soar. He looks at you standing in the middle of his room and smiles. It’s something he’s only dreamt of and he knows it’ll be a portrait etched into his memory for a long while.

You wait until he’s closed the door behind him to soak in the feel of his room. This is the room where he sleeps in, where he changes in, where he… Nope. Not gonna go there. You strip off your clothes and discard them in a pile by the bed. The shirt he gave you is thankfully oversized and you decide to forgo the shorts. No one’s going to come in tonight and you loathe wearing pants to bed. After climbing into Hoseok’s bed, you’re hit all at once with his scent. Fuckfuckfuck. He smells good. Your brain seems to manage only that one thought. Again, it’s a lot to process.

Does he have a side of the bed he prefers to sleep on? Does he have a preference at all? Does he sleep fully clothed or… You gasp at yourself and shake your head. Bad thoughts. Unnecessary thoughts. But not unwelcome thoughts. You spend the next while thinking back on the unexpected turn of events that transpired the past two weeks.

Hoseok has been a continuous and pleasant presence by your side. What was once only brief greetings in passing easily evolved into a comfortable friendship. As easy as it was to befriend him, your relationship never became stagnant. There was always something new to learn about each other and it didn’t bore you to talk about topics you’d already previously discussed. It definitely helped that he was just as eager to talk with you. Now you know part of the reason why he seemed to like being around you so often. Not that you’re opposed to it.

Your mind wanders back to earlier this evening when his hand rested on your hip. It was such a foreign feeling but you liked it a lot more than you anticipated. If you think really hard you can still feel his touch. You lied when you told him you didn’t know. You felt everything the moment he put his hands on you, from the way his bicep flexed against your back to the way his fingers absently circled your clothed waist. Almost like it was meant to happen. You can’t stop the smile and warmth that spreads on your face and you roll around the bed, squealing into your hands.

“Bye teachers!” Your last student waves goodbye as they leave with their older sibling.

You both wave back and resume cleaning up the classroom after your last activity. There’s not much left to do thanks to the children helping to clean up before it was time for them to leave. You grab a disinfectant and wipe down the snack table while Hoseok neatens up the rows of desks and chairs.

You may be a bit distracted at the bright blue striped collar shirt that pulls taut at his chest whenever he pulls his arms back. He has at least three buttons undone, not that you’re counting. You’re wiping until the table suddenly disappears beneath your hand and you nearly fall on your face. You catch yourself just in time and move onto the next table, pretending as though nothing happened. He clearly saw you though, if his snickering in the corner is anything to go by.

“I’m about done, Hobi. How ‘bout you?” you ask him as you shove the last of your paperwork into your work bag.

“Yep! I’m good to go.”

He’s fidgeting by the door when you finally grab your bag and walk towards him. His eyes are downcast and worries at his lower lip, but you don’t press him about it. Instead, you nudge his shoulder and motion for him to leave with you.

When you exit the building, he asks, “Are you doing anything this weekend?”

A smile creeps up on your face. “No plans. What’s up?”

You already know the answer and your heart rate is picking up the pace from the anticipation. He curls his pinky finger around yours, eliciting a contented sigh from both of you. He hums thoughtfully and swings your hands around as the both of you walk to the parking lot at a leisurely pace. Neither of you seem to be wanting to leave this moment just yet.

“If you’re not busy, I’d like to take you on a date tomorrow.” His voice is firm and unwavering.

Your smile only broadens. “I think I’d like that a lot.” 

He nods shyly and his face beams at your reply.

“So I was thinking—and if you think it’s a lame idea please tell me!—but I was thinking, since you’ve recently started a rock collection, maybe we could… go to the river and find you some rocks? Maybe you can help me find some rocks too?”

You didn’t think your smile could grow any bigger. It’s been a few weeks since his accidental confession and you were truly moving at a snail’s pace. Not that you weren’t grateful for it. It’s really allowed for you to take the time to evaluate your friendship and your newfound feelings for the man walking beside you. You’re stealing glances at him more often these days, thoughts straying to how he’s doing. Your phone’s found a new activity, consistently vibrating with text notifications from him. He makes you happy.

You’d been waiting for him to ask you on a date. Yes, it’s the 21st century and no, you don’t need no man to make the first move, but you still wanted to wait until he initiated it. You’re almost surprised by his date suggestion, but you know Hoseok. The wonderful man has always been thoughtful and considerate of his friend’s passions and hobbies. You just didn’t expect him to be so in tune to your interests. Knowing he was aware about your current rock obsession causes an eruption of butterflies and giddiness to flutter in your chest.

“Oh, wow! You’re full of surprises, Hobi. Of course I’d love that! Maybe we can even have a little picnic afterwards.”

“I think I’d like that a lot,” he echoes your previous words. “So, it’s a date then?”

“It’s a date.”

He still hasn’t let go of your pinky finger by the time you reach your car which automatically unlocks from your near proximity. The day still has so many hours until sundown and already you’re buzzing with excitement for tomorrow. Neither of you have stopped smiling since you left the classroom and you decide to give him a surprise of your own.

“Close your eyes for me?”

He raises a brow at your request but complies and shuts his eyes. You wave your hands around his face to confirm they really are closed. Once you’re certain, you grab onto his shoulders for leverage and tiptoe upward to plant a kiss on his cheek. With a teasing smile, you rush into your car. He jolts, eyes shooting back open at the sound of your car door closing. Giggles escape your lips, watching him standing in a daze. You wonder if he’s as out of breath as you are, despite not having done anything cardio related.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hobibi,” you say as you reach across the opening to poke his nose.

His lips curve into a lopsided grin and he moves to brush his lips against your finger. You shiver at the sensation. He starts walking backwards to his car and brings 2 fingers up to his forehead to salute you.

“See ya, beautiful. I’ll call you tonight?”

Your heart leaps at how hopeful he sounds. “I’ll be waiting, handsome!” 

You wait until he’s inside his car, wave goodbye one last time, and then drive off.

By the time he walks you to your apartment after your date, the moon has risen high in the sky and encompasses the both of you in a faint glimmer.

Today had been the perfect day to go to the river and you both spent hours crouching in the river bed, your faces nearly touching the water in order to see the rocks clearly. It had truly been a wonderful date and you came home with a good handful of small river rocks to add to your collection. 

You love that this wasn’t a conventional first date. It did, however, bring a different type of first date anxiety because of the fact that you were already friends. Sweet Hoseok didn’t let the nerves take control though. He’d pulled you into the cold water with him as soon as you got there, effectively washing away all worries. You shared plenty of laughs and water fights today. You’re still damp from spending so much time in the river and while the evening breeze should have sent goosebumps all throughout your exposed skin, you’re instead filled with a cozy warmth merely being in the warm and calming presence of Hoseok. 

“I had a great time today, Hobi. Thanks for taking me out to find cute rocks.”

“And thanks for making me wet,” you add for good measure. You snicker under your breath when he chokes on air.

“Oh my god. Um, you-you’re welcome. Your rocks are just as cute as you! Um, and thanks for packing us delicious food.”

It’s entirely too amusing seeing him flounder at your brazen declarations. You liked this shy Hobi. Actually, you’ve come to find you like a lot of different Hobis. The one who brings you tea every other morning at work, the one who walks you to your car even when you’re not teaching a class together, the one who has recently started calling you every night just to say goodnight, the one who blushes any time you compliment him, and most definitely your favorite: the one who has given you a beautiful friendship as the foundation of this newfound relationship with one another.

You have always loved how his smile seemed to shape into a heart. A beautiful physical display of the love he so eagerly and openly shares with the world. Here in this moment though, you know this smile was only for you and you are suddenly so eager to kiss those heart shaped lips. You sigh happily and reach up to smooth down Hoseok’s wind blown hair. You clasp your arms around his neck and bask in the stillness, soaking in the memory of his glowing face under the moonlight.

“Don’t forget to take care of your rocks, okay?”

“Yes, Ms. Y/N.”

“Gross. Don’t call me that,” you scrunch your nose in distaste and push him away. “You can go home.”

He laughs again and grabs your face to plant a kiss on your forehead. “I’m glad you had fun. Go rest up, okay?”

Okay, so maybe you were kidding when you pushed him away. He moves to let go but you grab onto his shirt and lick your lips in anticipation. Maybe you weren’t taking conventional steps and yes, there is that unspoken social rule not to kiss on the first date but you don’t care. 

Some time halfway into the day, you were swept in a sudden wave of acceptance—of your feelings for this man, of toeing the line between friends and potential lovers. For the remainder of the day you were plagued with thoughts about how kissable his lips are. Splashing him with water until he was soaking wet did not help your dilemma. You zone in on his lips and surely he picks up on your cues because he removes your hands from his shirt within seconds and keeps them clasped in his hold. Your eyes quickly shoot up to glower at him. He chuckles and swipes a thumb across your lips, his expression mirthful.

“Let’s take it slow, yeah?” An echo of what he had said that fateful night in front of his apartment.

You quietly grumble in understanding, knowing he was right not to rush into this, earning you a beautiful laugh to slip from his annoyingly beautiful mouth.

“I won’t say no to another kiss on the cheek though,” he teases.

You scoff at the audacity. “You’ve lost that right. Goodbye!”

He laughs at your outburst and learns forward for another kiss on the forehead. With a final wave goodbye and a heart ready to burst, you head inside. In hindsight, you should’ve known Hoseok’s a glutton for “taking it slow.”

Tonight you’re at his apartment to Netflix and chill. Literally.

It’s been several official dates—and many more unofficial ones in between—throughout the three months since your first date. Many cuddles, many accidental boners pressed against your thigh during said cuddles (leading to some awkward repositioning and pretending it never happened), and many kisses shared all around your faces save for your lips. You’re cuddled up against him tonight watching a rerun of Running Man when you’re hit with a pang of need that you’ve become intimately familiar with these days. 

You want to kiss him. Every time you get too close, though, he’d move away. You try not to let it get to you. You really do. But it’s hard not to feel the sting every time you’re rejected. You know he likes you and he knows you like him too. Amidst these thoughts, your mind drifts back to the day you finally confessed that you liked him too. You suppress a laugh thinking about how much of a blubbering mess he’d been. You just wish you knew why he didn’t seem to want to kiss you.

Thinking about all the times he’s rejected your advances completely kills your mood. You unconsciously pull away from him and scoot closer to the other side of the loveseat. Tears are pooling under your eyes and you’re blinking furiously, willing them to disappear. You don’t mean to suddenly feel this way and you certainly don’t want to ruin the good atmosphere tonight. 

Hoseok laughs and comments on something in the show but you can’t bring yourself to muster up fake enthusiasm. You feel something rub against you and you flinch until you realize it’s Hoseok pulling you back to his side. His face is masked with worry and he rubs your arms in a comforting motion.

“Hey there,” he murmurs. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head and adjust your posture on the couch. His eyes furrow at your lack of response and he pauses the show. He shifts to face you and holds your hands.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You bite down on your lip, willing yourself not to cry. You’re usually not embarrassed to cry. In fact you’ve cried many times in front of Hoseok, but those were different times. You don’t want to scare him away. Of course, your body never does like to listen to you. Your chin quivers without your permission and it was like the dam broke. Hoseok’s frown only deepens and he immediately scoots closer, cupping your face in his hands. Your eyes flutter close, completely embarrassed that you’re crying in front of him.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry.” You try to move away but his hands hold your face firmly in place, wiping at your tears with his thumbs.

“Baby, don’t apologize. If you really don’t wanna talk about it I’ll drop it. I will. But you know that I’ll make time to listen to you whenever you’re ready, right?”

You take in a deep, shaky breath. The pet name doesn’t help with your already frazzled emotions and you whisper, “No, it’s…we—I can talk.”

He doesn’t speak, instead waiting for you. You’re tempted to ask him to forget it and pretend you’re okay but you know if you never address this, you’ll continue to be stuck in this limbo and you don’t know how much longer you’d be able to handle it. Might as well be direct about it. Beating around the bush never did anyone any favors.

“Why don’t you want to kiss me?” Your voice cracks and comes out weaker than you meant it to. The following seconds are completely silent. You can’t even hear Hoseok breathe. His lack of reaction causes fresh tears to fall down your face.

“I’m sorry,” you both say.

“I-I thought we’re good now, you know? And, I don’t know, I figured that since we—”

“Wait. Wait, baby let me speak first. Please?”

You hiccup and nod your consent. His thumbs stroke both sides of your face, continuing to catch your tears. His brows are still wrinkled and you want nothing more than to smooth them out.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I didn’t realize it was hurting you this much and I’m sorry I didn’t notice… I know it’s selfish of me and it’s not a good enough excuse but to be honest I don’t think I’d be able to deal with it. And I’m gonna sound really corny but I just know if I kiss you once, I’m scared I may never want to stop and if… or when you decide you don’t want me anymore, um,” he pauses to lick his lips and laughs nervously. 

You flinch at his words. Was he still holding onto that? Your heart now aches for an entirely different reason. It hurts that he still thinks you’re unsure about your feelings for him. Has he been stressed about that all this time?

Before he can go on, you push him until he’s resting against the couch cushion. You swallow down your insecurities. It’s something you can come back to later. Feeling bad about him not wanting to kiss you holds little value when he’s been worried about this for god knows how long. His hands fall from your face and you maneuver yourself until you’re straddling him, giving him no chance to look away from you. It’s true that he liked you first and that he had longer to realize his feelings for you but you knew what you felt for him was genuine. You were in this for the long run and tonight you want to make it very clear to him.

“Hobi.” 

It’s your turn to hold his face in your hands. His eyes glisten with unshed tears and your heart lurches. “Do you still think that I don’t like you? That I don’t want you? I’m sorry I must not have been a very good girlf—” You stop yourself barely in time. You didn’t mean to let that slip. You’ve yet to establish your relationship with Hoseok, and you didn’t think it was a good time right now. Your blunder didn’t seem to be lost on him though, as you feel his heartbeat race against your chest and his grip that found purchase on your hips tightens.

“I may have been unsure in the beginning, and it may have been new to me at first but my feelings for you now… I love being your friend but you know what? I also love getting to know this other side of you. This side of you that only I get to see. I like when we pretend that we accidentally color code our clothes at work. I like it when our students and our stupid friends tease us. I like that you send me ugly cat memes and that I can send you stupid tweet screenshots. I like it when you come home with me to cook dinner for us. I like all of it.”

You pause to give him some time to let it sink in. He’s staring at you with so much longing and hope that it almost scares you, but you know you yearn for him just as much. If this goes well, maybe you can be scared together.

“I don’t want to go back to being just friends, Hobi. I want to keep exploring life with you.”

His palms are hot against your hips and his breathing becomes erratic. You lean into him until you’re certain he can feel your heart beating at the same frantic rate as his.

“Do you feel that?” He nods. “You do this to me. And... as for my daily problem down there,” you flush, looking down at where you’re connected below the waist. You look up to see him just as flustered, “is because of you too.”

“Loving you... falling in love with you is so easy.”

You feel his breath hitch at your implied declaration. And you realize your mistake too late. Was it too early to say it? Is it too late to take it back? He makes no move to say anything so you attempt to do damage control. In the form of distraction.

You lean even closer into him, pressed flush against his chest until your lips brush against his earlobe, knowing full well this was his weak spot, and say softly, “So there’s this guy I’m into. He’s really tall and handsome. He likes to drug himself up with caffeine every morning and will one hundred percent drop 200 bucks for limited edition shoes without a single thought. Can you guess who it is?” You don’t give him a chance to reply. “It’s you, Hobi. It’s you and only you and I really, really like you.”

Your confession is honest and true. What happens next is entirely unexpected and you would have fallen off his lap if not for his firm grip on you. He practically lunges at you and before you can process it his lips are moving roughly against yours. You had always thought your first kiss with Hoseok would be soft and slow, much like how he’s moved throughout your budding relationship, but no. He kisses you with a hunger you didn’t know he was capable of. He nips at your bottom lip, earning him a soft groan from you.

“What are you doing to me?” he murmurs into your lips.

You don’t respond. You can’t. Your brain is still trying to catch up and process what just happened.

You pull away from him and you blurt out dumbly, “Oh my god you’re kissing me.”

He laughs contentedly and nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He plants a faint kiss, causing you to shiver against him.

"You drove a hard bargain. I couldn’t not kiss you after that.” A quick peck on the lips. “And for the record, I really, really like you too.”

“Kiss me again, Hoseok.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Epilogue

The wind tries to steal your hat away but you hold onto it before it has a chance to fly off. It’s a breezy day today and your boyfriend had the absolutely brilliant idea to teach you how to longboard.

This brilliant idea ends up being him skating down steep hills at the park while you walk in the grass behind him. You had shouted at him several times to slow down or he’d end up hurting himself but of course in typical male fashion, he ignored you every time.

You’re in the middle of firing a comeback at Yoonji’s most recent text about how gross you and Hoseok have become now that you’re a couple when you hear a cry from your boyfriend several feet away. He’s going down a rather steep hill when the wind picks up sudden speed. Loose gravel breaks his smooth run and you watch in horror as he loses balance and tumbles onto the pavement. He hisses as his skin skids against the rocks.

“Hoseok!”

You stash your phone into your purse and run to him. As you get closer he schools his pained expression, in an attempt to hide any pain he may be feeling.

“I’m fine.” He attempts to reassure you before you can start fretting over him.

You immediately kneel down in front of him, ignoring him and grab his hands to assess the damage.

"You shouldn’t have gone so fast,” you scold as you rip out a few alcohol wipes from your bag. You’ve heard one too many horror stories about people injuring themselves falling off skateboards, so you’ve learned to keep several wipes and bandages handy when you found out Hoseok owned a few of his own. You carefully wipe down his scuffed palms and arms. You worry about his knees too but that’s something you’ll have to take care of at home.

He silently drinks in the image of you kneeling between his splayed legs, tending to his barely-there wounds. His heart may very well burst right there. You blow on his hands and flick your eyes up briefly to find his face mere inches from yours, looking at you with such a fond look.

“Ah, babe you’re too close to me,” you mumble shyly and lightly push him a few more inches away.

This only prompts him to lean in even closer until your foreheads knock together and his nose bumps with yours. It’s been several months since you had the “kiss talk” and made your relationship official. It’s been several months and yet your heart is still sent into a panic when you catch him staring. It’s barely your fault that you react physically when he makes you so nervous. You squeak and push his face away from you, causing him to fall over. His chuckles morph into a gruff wheeze as he falls. Embarrassment momentarily gone, you fuss over him again.

“Hobi! Oh no, I’m sorry!”

He lunges for you and pulls you down on top of him. Unfortunately for him, you didn’t expect him to grab at you and you brace your legs for your eventual fall.

“Oof! Oh god!” He exclaims in pain.

He recoils from you and grabs his crotch, rolling away into a fetus position. “Oh god, baby please be more gentle with me! I won’t be able to put my babies in you if you break me!”

You both freeze from his declaration. You, more so in shock, and he, in mortification. You’ve certainly had your fair share of heavy petting and make out sessions since that night at his place… Okay, fine so you can’t keep your hands off each other for even one day and you kiss every chance you get, but you have yet to go any farther than that with one another. Your sanity has been slowly dwindling the longer you go without knowing how he looks and feels. Hearing him basically say he wants to cum inside you in the near future has you perking up instantly. You watch as his eyes grow comically wide and he immediately sits up, pain forgotten.

“Oh shit shit shit. I said that out loud didn’t I? Oh god. I’m sorry I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—I mean it’s—I know we only just started dating and we haven’t even talked about sex yet and—I’m sorry. Oh my god.” He buries his head in his face, ready for the earth to swallow him whole.

You tug at his shirt and focus intensely on where your fingers are fumbling with his shirt and mumble barely loud enough, “I wouldn’t be opposed to it, you know?”

He swears he feels his dick twitch. Great. It’s not broken. Awesome.

When he doesn’t respond you continue on, “W—well not right now!" 

He snorts. "Obviously not. We’re in public, silly… Unless you’re into that? I mean it’s not my thing but I’m willing to try it if you want us to—” Your eyes widen at his bold declaration and slap a hand over his mouth to prevent him from finishing that sentence. You can’t lie though, the idea has you quivering on your knees.

“Hobi!” You hiss. “I meant not for a few months!”

His eyebrows raise and you’re quick to fix it. “I-I mean next year?”

You feel his lips curl into that awful smirk he fancies anytime he turns you into a blubbering mess. Then you feel something thick and wet against your palm.

“Ew! Hobi!” You pull your hand away from him. He leans into you, tongue still out, and licks your lips before you can shrink even further away. You don’t have the energy to protest again, too engrossed on how good his tongue feels.

“Don’t tempt me with the patience game because we both know I’d win.” He grins when you pout at him because you know he’s right. “I can’t wait to explore this new territory with you, baby.” 

You flush at his remark and stand up to create some distance to prevent yourself from doing something stupid.

“I need to find your skateboard,” you breathe out and run away from your cheeky boyfriend. 

“Longboard!” He corrects you and watches your figure trail away from him.

Hoseok muses how he got so lucky that you, the one he’d been pining after for years, actually reciprocates his feelings. He picks himself off the pavement to help you find his longboard. He thinks he’ll hang it up somewhere in his apartment later today as a commemoration of this lovely date. And he definitely can’t wait to get home and find out how long it’ll take for you to break underneath him.

a/n 2.0: HI ISN’T HOBI HOBI JUST A DREAM???? i hope you liked this fic 🥺 pls share your thoughts with me💗 my asks and dms are always open 💕 like.....always.... <<3333

(gif credit: @jengkook)

[itsanidiom]

Hello hello!!! Hope your having a wonderful day!! I have a very serious question, I'm thinking about writing things that like aren't just fanfictions, I've been thinking about it For a LONG while!! I just don't know WHAT the hell to do, how to do it, and figured I could maaaybe ask you!! since you are the only other writer I'm following who published books besides Neil Gaimen... I just thought you could give some tips and basic things, like do I need to go to school for this? Can I open the gates and zoom right into it?? Can I make illustrated novels? How do or would I publish?? Overall everything?? Also again hope your having a nice day! Hope the weathers good in your area!!!

Hello! Thank you! Yes! Writing advice! That I can offer!

Wow! Me and Neil Gaiman, huh? That’s a really honoured place to be 🤣👌 Honestly his advice has always been my fave: Just write.

If you have a good idea just write it out. Hell, it doesn’t even need to be a good idea. You can edit it later! Just write! Get it out of your head and you’re already most of the way there!

If you’ve only written fan fiction and you’re nervous about the transition to original work, I recommend thinking of original stories as AU fic with renamed character as a starting point. Almost all the biggest writers today basically started in fanfic (ever heard of 50 Shades 🙈 worst example but HEY it’s true)

So yeah you’re in a good place when it comes to practicing the craft since you’ve been writing fanfic!

I never went to school for writing. I studied linguistics and German in uni 😂 So you definitely don’t need to go to school for writing. From what I’ve seen you can gain good connections in writing programs, but the academic programs at universities tend to focus on more “lit” genres. So if you’re writing like Murakami/Kafka or planning to be the next Atwood/Hemingway, writing programs can be good.

I’m published with an LGBT+ indie publisher, NineStar Press. They’re not one of the big conglomerate of publishing houses obviously, but they offer wider distribution than self publishing AND they do all the work, apart from making the suggested edits obviously. The process of submission to publishing with them takes about 9 months. With traditional publishing it can take years.

I found I learned a lot working with my editor so that was an important part of my development process. I definitely recommend finding an editor once your story/manuscript is nearing a final draft stage. If you publish traditional or indie your lit agent or editor will help with that. If you self-publish you’d have to pay an editor usually.

Which brings us to the open the gates and jump right in part: Self publishing! It’s fun. It’s easy. Its instant. It’s free! You can put it out there for free or make a few bucks, a lot if you’re lucky and your book goes viral! You can do ebook and or print and illustration as well as far as I know! My favourite thing about self publishing is that it really closely mimics fan fiction. You can basically self publish anything on KDP as long as it doesn’t go against their guidelines.

I’ve really enjoy self publishing for my shorter (smuttier) work, but I probably wouldn’t have jumped into it without a friend showing me the ropes and the experience of having published with NineStar first because I learned a lot through that process. The nice thing about self pub is you can publish any length so it’s great for things that are shorter and don’t fit regular publishers’ criteria. For example two of my self-pub stories (Whisky and Pearls / His General’s Gambit) are only around 10-20k words. That’s barely novella size. Most publishers want 50k at least.

Last but most important: publishing should NOT cost you anything. It might not make you rich, but it definitely shouldn’t cost a penny. If you’re self-pub you might choose to pay for marketing or an editor or a cover (I make my own covers and trade off editing projects with a friend so that saves money haha). But if you’re working with someone and they offer to publish you for a fee…RUN. That’s not legit. Publishers need writers, writers don’t need publishers.

My bestie @inaseaofmidnightblue went to school for writing and is publishing her first book traditionally next year so when she’s less busy (she’s VERY busy getting married right now 😂) she might be able to add more context around the traditional publishing perspective.

But yeah that’s what I’ve got! Happy to follow up if you have any other questions! Happy writing!

[ashxketchum]

Writer’s Month - 3

Not much to share today, I was in office all day so had my first experience of typing something fic-related on my Notes app lol. 

Fandom/Pairing: Digimon/Taiora 

Prompt: outside, wedding (In this case they’re outside of their house {to be extremely technical} and are married {not a wedding but they got back from their honeymoon so pretty close to one lol}) 

Setting: Post Kizuna. Somethings are just not canon in this verse ✨(special shout out to @earlgreymon for her rainy Taiora edits that inspired some of the events mentioned here) 

~ 

Taichi tapped his foot impatiently as he waited outside the powder room for Sora. He was still taken aback by the interview that they had just gotten out of, but before he could begin his interrogation of Sora, she had promptly skipped off to the powder room, leaving Taichi to wait patiently in silent agony. He wasn’t angry at her, just a bit confused since he believed that if they were going to do more such interviews, the least they could do was keep their stories straight. It wasn’t everyday when the youngest member of parliament got married to an aspiring iemoto, the collision of politics with tradition had taken the Japanese media by storm and Taichi and Sora had spent most of their days hopping from one interview to another after returning from their honeymoon.

Taichi straightened up as soon as the door he was leaning against moved and he came face to face with Sora, fixing her with a confused gaze as their eyes met.

“That was our first date?”

Sora blinked twice, as she took in her husband’s words an amused smile settled on her face. She adjusted her drawstring pouch on her left hand and raised her right one to softly stroke Taichi’s cheek.

“You’re such an idiot, Taichi.” She laughed, as he immediately pouted at her words.

“It can’t count as our first date, if I didn’t even know it was a date.” Taichi retorted, grateful for her touch, he leaned into it comfortably, feeling her warmth spread throughout his body.

“How could you not know it was a date?” Sora raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, she removed her hand from his cheek and linked it with his, guiding him away from the door to the powder room and towards the exit.

“Well we weren’t together together then.” Taichi allowed himself to be led out, still arguing his case diligently.

“Do people need to be together to go on dates?” Sora challenged him in return, it seemed that she was quiet adamant on her own stance.

“Not really…” Taichi answered, silently dreading that his defeat in this argument was closer than he expected and the only valid point he had made didn’t reflect well on his self awareness.

“Did you or did you not take me out that day?”

“I did…”

“Did you or did you not pay for our meal?”

“I did…”

“Did you or did you not drop me home?”

“I did…”

“So how was it not a date?” Sora concluded happily, her tone indicating that she knew Taichi would have no retort for her after this.

“Wow Sora, are you sure it isn’t too late for you to sit down for the bar exam?” Taichi replied sarcastically as he shook his head in total defeat, they’d reached the parking lot during their discussion and the two stayed silent as they settled themselves in their car, Sora taking a bit longer to do so than Taichi, adjusting her kimono to perfection before putting on the seatbelt.

“I’m curios though, what do you think our first date was?” Sora turned in her seat to look at her husband, once they were on the road, an amused smile playing on her lips.

“Obviously, last year of college when I asked you to accompany me to my graduation party.”

Sora burst out laughing and Taichi passed an annoyed glare in her direction, being careful to not let his eyes slip away from the road for too long, “What’s so funny?”

“Taichi, honey, we’ve had several dates before that happened.”

“No, no way. That was definitely our first date.”

“So you’re telling me, you don’t consider you taking me out for a movie after the Eosmon battle a date? Or even you coming up to Kyoto to visit me during my residency doesn’t count as a date?” 

“Okay I think we both have some very different definitions of what a date is.” Taichi muttered through gritted teeth, “I took you to that movie because I was worried about how much time you were spending holed up in your room after Piyomon left you. And I came up to Kyoto to make sure you weren’t feeling homesick.”

“So they were both gestures of your love for me, ergo they count as a date.”

“But I didn’t ask you to be with me then, I just showed up unannounced!”

“Still counts, Taichi.”

“But do you really want it to count? I mean I was a sobbing mess myself when I took you to that movie, and the Kyoto trip was so terrible, it rained the entire time I was there and all we could do was stay in your dorm and eat instant ramen for dinner.” Taichi stated, frowning as he remembered all the bad luck that had followed him around at the time, “Don’t you want to remember something more romantic as your first date?”

“Every moment I spend with you is romantic for me.” Sora whispered gently, and Taichi couldn’t help but turn his eyes away from the road for a moment to look at his wife, “Even if you could barely hold back your own tears that day, I was glad that you cared enough about me to pull me out of my sadness. In Kyoto, I had been so lonely, not knowing anyone or anything, just having you sit across from me and hear you talk about your classes was enough to soothe my heart. I love every single thing you do for me Taichi, always have and always will.”

Taichi was stunned speechless, he hadn’t experienced this level of overwhelming happiness since their wedding vows, he found it amazing just how easily Sora could manage to make him feel so worthy through her simple words. They drove in silence after that, a happy but smug smile visible on Sora’s face over her sweeping victory in this argument. While Taichi did not mind giving this one win to his wife, he was still in the mood to poke the bear a little bit, so just as he turned the car into their driveway, a smirk appeared on his face as he glanced at Sora.

“By your definitions, I’d say our first date was when I saved you from Datamon back when we were kids.”

[deiliamedlini]

WIP Wednesday??

IDK how long it’s been since I’ve done a WIP Wednesday mostly because I haven’t been writing anything. I’m still too busy getting used to my jobs, and being back, and grading, but I remembered it was a Wednesday today, and I plucked a scene from a story I’m hoarding and then it made me want to stop working and go write.

I posted something for this fic twice before (1 & 2), but as usual, I have done absolutely nothing with it. Also as usual, it’s not edited, and it’s really fluffy because I wanted to pour on some fluff. I regret nothing. 

Basically, the context for this one is that Zelda trains with Link every morning to learn to defend herself. She’s barely allowed to leave Hyrule Castle for her safety, but Link changes their day around to get her out for a bit. 

/

“Princess?” Link said, apparently not for the first time.

“Sorry, what?” she asked, snapping from her thoughts.

“We’re nearly there.”

“Oh, yes. Right.”

Raising an eyebrow, he wondered where her mind had been, but shook it off as he led her into a forest. She’d lost track of where they were in her haze, but when Link dismounted, she did as well.

He held his hands out to their surroundings. “Here we go.”

“You brought me to… the woods?”

“I did,” he said with a sly smirk, leading her deeper into the trees on foot.

Zelda trudged along, avoiding the thick underbrush, watching for raised roots, and the occasional stone that cropped up. Link glanced back at her often, especially when she made any noise of disapproval, but she followed, eager to see what the fuss was with this stretch of trees.

When they entered a small clearing, she saw it.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed, hurrying past Link.

The ruins of a house long since taken back by nature stood in shambles, green from moss, and tangled in vines and plants. Her hands ran along the stone foundation, solid and firm, still completely intact, leaving the distinct outline of the structure.

She followed the outside, imagining the shape until she saw a rotted fence. A yard, she figured, or maybe a garden. There were trellises that still hung, though vines had overtaken the entire thing, dangling until they nearly touched the ground.

Hopping up onto one of the stones, Zelda swung her legs around and tested the ground for structural integrity. A large part of her knew that if Link had brought her here, he’d already tested it all, so her inspection was less in-depth than it would have been otherwise. Some things still stood, like the kiln that denoted the kitchen, though flowers grew in the opening. A bird’s nest sat atop a stone wall, and Zelda giggled with pure giddiness as she inspected the surviving steps before turning back to Link.

“How did you find this?”

“Stumbled across it on patrol. I figured you’d enjoy seeing it as well. You had that book with you the other day, the one about old villages.”

She smiled, too excited to find it odd that he noticed what she’d been reading during their breaks. “Do you know who lived here?”

“I thought you might want to research that. I have a map for you, and I marked where we are.”

She was already running her hands along the stones again, making her way across the structure, imagining doorways and walls and furniture. “I can’t believe any of this is intact! Judging by the vegetation and the style, this must be about two or three hundred years old.”

“That’s… older than I expected,” Link said, finally moving closer so he could sit on the wall to watch her.

Which he was glad he did, because Zelda hoisted herself up onto a narrow stretch of the wall to get a higher vantage point; from the gleam in her eyes, he could see her desire to cross the thin stretch to reach the highest sturdy platform to stand on.

He sprung to his feet and hopped up behind her. “Princess,” he warned before she could take a step, but she didn’t pay him any mind.

Instead, she walked across, as if it were the sturdy security of the forest floor. Her foot slipped, misjudging the balance that would be required on the uneven stones, but Link had his arm around her waist, lifting her and spinning her behind him so she was off the narrow point. He didn’t say anything, but his judgmental look spoke volumes.

“What?” she countered, trying to sound haughty, though there was a tremble in her voice. That fall specifically wouldn’t have been too bad, perhaps a throbbing ankle and the sense to not try again, but she was looking to go even higher. “I just wanted to get a better look.” Wistfully looking down at her limited view, a small smile had settled on her lips.

Link was a good knight. He was respectful to his charges, tough on his trainees, a good fighter, and a rule follower. He’d gained acclaim for his skills, his dedication, his leadership, and his ability to follow. He was a perfect knight.

Most of the time.

He was also a complete fool, entranced by the softness and delight the Princess of Hyrule radiated. She hadn’t commanded him, but she might as well have with her desperately excited eyes. He could feel her invisible pull, and Link’s caution turned into a desire get her where she wanted to be.

So, he held out his hand.

Zelda turned at the movement in her peripheral vision and stared at his hand like it was glowing or possessed. “What?”

Instead of answering, he flexed his fingers, urging her to take it.

Cautious at first, she rested her palm against his, stiff and unsure. But Link closed his hand and gave her a light tug as he stepped backwards.

She followed; her eyes narrowed suspiciously until she realized that he was going to help her cross the gap to get to her view after all.

“If I fall, you’ll be beheaded by my father.”

“I won’t let you fall, for your sake and mine,” he said confidently, taking another step back, and her another forward.

Heart racing with every step, Zelda felt herself slightly off balance, trying to keep her foot entirely on the stones. She had no idea how Link was easily walking backwards, though she attempted to mimic his stance regardless, as she often did when they trained.

“Are you an acrobat?” she asked, suppressing a nervous laugh.

“No,” he chuckled, glancing back, as though she’d reminded him where they were. “This is a lot like fighting. Footwork and balance are important.”

“So we are training.”

“It seems that way,” he chuckled, taking a few more slow steps with her before gesturing for her to stop. “Do not move a muscle while I get up there, okay? No jokes this time.”

“Okay,” she said, holding her breath.

He carefully hoisted himself up onto the last ledge, testing its stability for a long stretch of time before bending down to hold his hand back out to her, apparently satisfied.

She let out her breath and grabbed him again to cross the rest of the way, wondering how she was going to get up as well.

But Link just held out his other hand, grabbing her wrist rather than her hand. “On three, jump. One, two, three!”

She jumped, feeling Link do the rest of the work as he hoisted her until he could replace his hold on her wrist with her waist. Her free arm went around his neck to help until he grabbed her by the belt to get her the rest of the way up with ease.

Their faces were close as Link kept a tight hold of her until she found her footing. “You good?” he whispered, not needing to raise his voice any higher.

“Yeah, thanks.” If she wanted to, she could lean forward just a hair’s breadth and be against his parted lips.

If she liked him at all, that is. He was still that knight who refused to let her use a sword and made her run all day.

With some effort, he helped her to turn around, though he kept her securely tucked against him. There was almost no room for them both up there anyway, and Link wasn’t going to let her lean forward in her obvious curiosity only to fall from what was clearly the former second floor and surely end up with a cracked skull or worse. As it is, he shouldn’t have let her up this high. He shouldn’t have let her walk that narrow path.

He really shouldn’t have even taken her here, telling her father that he’d planned to escort her to a small Goddess statue to pray.

He’d seen how hard Zelda was working with him in the mornings, and though she didn’t seem to think he was actually listening to her when she spoke while they jogged, he’d reasoned out enough to know that she wasn’t sleeping, instead fruitlessly praying to the Goddess. He’d seen her sagging body when she thought he wasn’t looking, and he could spot the dark circles under her eyes that she tried to cover with makeup, though she only ever ended up sweating it off.  

All he wanted was to give her a day off. And there was only one way he had been able to do that.

Lie to the King of Hyrule.

[mira--mira]

Question from an aspiring writer:

How do you stay motivated on one project for such a long time?

I personally have the attention span of a goldfish, and whenever I have an idea I either have to write down everything my brain can spew immediately or have it be lost in the void for eternity.

Never mind going back and turning my outline into a fic or gasp editing.

Do you have any tips and/or tricks you use?

Ok, I got completely carried away with this just fyi, but hopefully I ended up answering your actual question 😂 tl;dr at the bottom.

To be honest, staying motivated is a tricky thing, one that I feel I'm still learning how to do even now and varies a bit between shortfics/oneshots and multi-chaptered fics/longfics. For a bit of background, I've been writing fanfic for about a year and a half, but I've been writing original fiction since I was seven, over a decade and a half, and I still wrestle with it. It's definitely a learning process.

One thing I wish someone would have told me when I was starting out was the power of ~scenes~ in either multi-chapters or one-shots. All writing is ultimately made up of scenes, but if you're struggling to put things together, focusing on an individual scene, or multiple short scenes, might help you focus on getting something completed, and it's something that eventually can be applied to longer works as well. Writing has been a snowball process for me and once I started getting anything completed, I felt more secure in knowing what I could write comfortably and what was out of my comfort zone, eventually getting to the point where I felt comfortable tackling bigger and longer projects and knowing I could stay with them.

OoT's interlude chapters and the snippet series are both good examples of scenes because I wrote them with that intention...even if most of them are actually two or three scenes combined. "Gai meets Hashirama and Madara", "Hashirama gets revenge on Kakashi", "Tatsuki and Hashirama pick flowers for Madara, then give them to him" etc. were all my starting points.

If you're first starting out and feel comfortable with outlines of some sort before you start writing I would encourage you to try and write down a bullet point list of your scene(s) and what you know you want to happen in it.

"Gai meets Hashirama and Madara"

* Hashirama meets Gai first, mistakes him for Lee.

* Madara is shopping for a gift for Hashirama

* Madara finds Gai and Hashirama, they spar, Gai kicks his ass, both of them love him.

This is how my initial outline looked for the first interlude chapter, technically each one of these "points" are their own scenes stuck together. Outlining is different for everyone, some people like super specific points, others even less detail than this. For me this is a nice middle that gives me a roadmap for the chapter, but allows plenty of room to naturally diverge and add detail. Play around with outlines and see what you're comfortable with/what gives you the best results.

I'm not sure of your individual situation, but if you're struggling to put together fics in general something like this might help. Doing this process again and again personally helps me stay on track and gives me a sense of progress.

This sense of progress is ultimately key and why I think motivation differs slightly between one-shots/short fics and longfics. If you confine the individual scene to a one-shot, that might give you the motivation to complete it. Even if you start writing and you get interrupted/can't finish having in one setting, bullet points sometimes help inspire me to finish because I'm not starting from scratch when I return to writing. The whole "eat an elephant one piece at a time" thing was difficult for me to learn, but ultimately proved true. Learning to chip away at something bit by bit is going to be the only (healthy) way to write longer projects you can't complete in one sitting.

For longer projects, it's a similar beast just on bigger levels and with an added dimension. I would actually suggest something similar to OoT for a starting project because it is ultimately broken up into arcs that you know and can reference, instead of making a lot of og content for a fan setting. Maybe not go into it thinking, 'I'll do a complete rewrite' but once you feel like you're ready for a longer project 30K+ or so, the rough outline method and the ability to follow arcs was what got me started when I eventually decided to make the fic multi-chaptered. Try writing one arc and keep yourself contained in that. Now the added dimension aspect in general for longfics is that you eventually want to plot individual chapters in a multi-chaptered longfic and individual arcs (character, plot, etc). This comes with practice. I honestly don't think there's a way to get around that. It's something that I'm still trying to work on and I can look back at my early work and see how I've improved, how I can recognize where things didn't go well in certain places, and how I would change them if I was writing today. That's a good thing to be able to do, it means you've grown! The other thing I find that helps with staying motivated week after week for longer projects is to roughly know where you're going and to try to be excited about a plot point/scene/chapter/etc that you're going to write. Really try to hype yourself up. For me, it's a moment that comes at the very end of the chunin arc and I start grinning even thinking about it because I know it's going to be awesome. It's always what gets me through the rough days, imagining the moment I'll get to actually write that scene in its entirety (it's definitely already outlined and I mentally play it out at least twice a week lol) and is a big motivating drive.

So far I think this is pretty standard stuff if you're an outliner and you've been writing for a few years, but the other thing motivational-wise for me is having a schedule. From reading this message alone, I would not suggest it for you right away. Get comfortable finishing small things and feeling confident that if you let an idea sit for a week or two, you can pick it back up and continue. But if you eventually dip your toes into longfics (and don't plan to pre-write everything before you publish) that routine and rhythm really helps keep me going. I've made a commitment, I've posted it online, I'm going to stick to it. No one is going to jump down my throat if I fail to keep it (this is still a hobby and having fun is the most important thing) but in my mind I should commit to it unless something irl prevents me from doing so. Don't put a tight deadline on yourself, I'd start with once a month or if you write shorter chapters every three weeks. This also would help you build up and get a readership, interaction being another big motivational key.

Also, it's important to accept that sometimes you bite off more than you can chew, and when you feel completely demotivated from a fanfic project...it's okay to drop it. It's okay to take a step back and work on something else. Maybe you'll come back to it, maybe you won't. If you can, try to pinpoint what it was about that project that made you demotivated, were you pushing yourself too much and you got burnt out, was it an ongoing series and your interest for canon lagged and so did the fic, was it just too stressful to keep juggling plotpoints, etc. and keep that in mind moving forward. Every experience can be a learning one and eventually make you a better writer that can eventually tackle those bigger projects. Don't be afraid to take on big aspirational projects, but don't walk into them blind either. Above all, and this is repeated a lot because it's true, enjoy what you write. Some days you might not. That's true with anything, but any project you take on the good should outweigh the bad.

This is my wrap up of the motivational section but I also wanted to throw my two-cents in about editing because "oh no editing" is a perspective I've seen from a lot of writers, and used to have myself, but I think is going to stifle your progress in the long run.

Here's the thing: you need to look forward to editing.

You don't have to be jumping for joy, but editing, imo, should be a positive thing. You have all these great ideas, you made it into a fic, something you wrote, and now you get to go back and make it even better! This is a tough attitude to adopt. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. It took me a long time to unlearn the negative attitude and even then sometimes I still wish the editing was already done once I type in the last period. But I've learned to at least appreciate what editing does and I try to think to myself as I'm going through and making changes things like "wow, this suddenly became so much better. X plot point that I thought of ten pages from now is suddenly being hinted at and doesn't come out of left field. The transition points are a lot cleaner, it's not so jarring anymore. I bet the readers are going to love this little detail. Here's some foreshadowing that I hope someone picks up bc it's going to come back in like 5 chapters from now" it's hard, especially when you start, but this is something you made, and now are actively making better and that's something to celebrate.

I hope this helps anon! I know it's a lot and I'm by no means an expert but I've been doing this for more than a decade because I love it and I want to help others get into writing to! I have no problem answering any writing questions you may have if you find this helpful!

tl;dr

-motivation is slightly different between short/long fics.

-starting out, learn to outline by scenes and focus on finishing small projects and getting to a point where you feel like you can put something down and come back and pick it up again in a week. Completion is key and will help you feel satisfied/know your limits.

-long projects also can work on the scene-to-scene outline but now with individual chapters and individual arcs. It's tough to balance both but comes with practice. Bit-by-bit is key, as is having 'one moment you can't wait to write', possibly a schedule if it works for you, and reader feedback are all huge long-term motivational points.

-editing is tough but learn to look forward to it instead of dreading it.

edited: added a bit more/few typos fixed

[kerikaaria]

Hanging by a Thread

(Yoongi x Taehyung) Oneshot, Soulmate!au

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

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

WC: 16.3k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I met my soulmate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To say that he was floored would be an understatement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jimin.”

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

“Why did you do that?”

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

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

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

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

“Well, let me know when you decide?”

“Yeah, sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I wrong though?” Jimin challenged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now Yoongi was even more confused. “Still?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was not going as well as Yoongi had hoped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi was, as always, stupidly hopeful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go?” Yoongi asked. “Go where?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi shrugged. “Not my type.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jimin-” Taehyung started.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?” Taehyung asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You fucking-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need fucking money, Yoongi!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Taehyung, what-”

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

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

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

“But how’d you get in?”

“The door was left open.”

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

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

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

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

“But you don’t have to.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Asshole,” Taehyung muttered under his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you mean…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who was Yoongi to refuse that request?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My ask box is always open!

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