#at that one ramen place but its a thrift store.. pretending it’s not all that bad except reader doesn’t rlly try LMFAO

[riaki]

thrifted romance | megumi fushiguro x reader

synopsis: you’ve never really spoken with megumi before, so when your friends leave the two of you behind on a snowy night, you take the opportunity to get to know him.

wc: 6.2k... SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY cw: swearing, college au, noncurse au, i don’t thjnk there’s anything else ??

this got way longer than i intended it to be and i rushed to grind it out so it may not be coherent.. if so i apologize :’3 and this one’s late but i hope the content makes up for it ! enjoy meemow barely proofread!

it's a late winter evening when you meet up with megumi and your friends on the side of the street— cozied up in puffy layers and a long blazer stained with coffee splashes and a few hot chocolate smudges here and there.

fall had melted away with the slow gradient of leaves from the trees, sinking into fluffy piles on the sidewalk that soon became coated and replaced with light snowfall; the first of many problematic inches. midterms were just around the corner, and with it meant late hours spent pulling all-nighters that left you exhausted, eyes dark around the edges with a lack of sleep; breaths of minty hot chocolate and coffee from the amalgamation you'd concocted to at least pretend to get into the holiday spirit.

(a fruitless effort, though— if not for your failure that warned you to stay out of mixology, but the way your roommate's cat had knocked over your mug and ruined the flashcards you'd been wrestling with and looked completely smug with itself.)

really, though, there was absolutely nothing jolly about school, or exams. so when your favorite inefficient, sidetracking study buddy had offered to spend the weekend out, who were you to say no? nobara had offered to go find a club, but it was far too cold out to frolic around in skimpy clothing and your expensive winter coats were much too valuable to risk being stolen in the haze of drunken students and sweaty bodies. so, you'd decided to go shopping, because what else is there to do with her? besides the usual karaoke session with the upperclassmen she seems to like so much, of course.

turns out, it'd had been a group endeavor. or, more accurately— a group of four, unlike the duo you had previously thought you'd be going out in. yuji and megumi were there too— friends from separate majors; you'd heard that yuji was involved in the uprising surge of software engineers and computer science majors clambering for a shot in the world of big AI tech companies, even though he supposedly was about as computer-smart as your teetering old grandma ripe with age, permanently stuck in her rocking chair crocheting the days away.

megumi, on the other hand, was a mystery. you'd shared a few classes together; his chipped dark nails that shone the same blue as his esoteric eyes beneath the warmth of the glowing sun, and his inky black hair that spilled over the collars of his simple gray sweatshirts like effortlessly graceful calligraphy on paper had captured your attention as smooth and seamless as the daylight turned to darkness, days cut short by the onslaught of cold. even so, you'd never brought yourself to interact much— he seemed like he'd prefer to keep to himself, if the way he'd disdainfully scoot away from anyone who tried to approach him and turn up the volume of his headphones indicated anything. you had laughed to your friend and called it introversion to its finest, only to promptly shut up when his unmoving gaze landed on you, leaving you feeling like a clown on the stage, rimmed by rich dark red curtains and a wooden floorboard as the beaming spotlight shines upon you imaginary button nose, hot and glaring under his gaze. 

even though you'd approved of his music taste once you snagged a few notes by the ear, you'd really thought his taste in fashion was too bland to be the type of person to shop with nobara— her meticulous style and image were much brighter and more flamboyant than megumi's jaded attempts at a splash of color through the occasional blue argyle or layered turtleneck. still, those were better than yuji's paltry attempts at fashion; at least the myriads of color on nobara's figure were coordinated. the pink-haired boy with funny scars on his face would probably have been better off learning graphic design or art, with the disasters of clashing colors on his person.

and he'd gotten the opportunity to demonstrate his questionable tastes on the chilly evening, when black ice had begun to form on the roads and the soft light of boutiques with slow jazz flowing from the speakers filled your frost-bitten red ears as you walked up to the shade of a nearby lamppost. once you'd all met up, nobara had hooked an arm around your elbow and dragged you off, leaving the boys to follow along like it was walking dogs.

honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if you were— at least, with yuji. he carried nobara's bags like she was the next princess in line, without complaint and with the little fearful quivers that dogs get in their legs whenever their owners scold them for barking or misbehaving, much like how nobara would yell at yuji if he dropped a single cream linen sweater or ruffled pink cami.

megumi, on the other hand, was far too lethargic and quiet to be considered any kind of canine. although the weaved bracelet on his left wrist with a cute little puppy charm you caught sight of when he'd rolled his sleeve up implied otherwise. the only reason he'd even had to do that was to rub the sickeningly sweet orange blossom hand sanitizer nobara had spritzed on each of your palms after you took turns petting a stray cat, one that seemed to take a great liking to you and megumi in particular.

the night seemed to drag on forever; pale yellow lights and holiday decorations blurred into swathes and bubbles of color in your vision as the hours passed and the caffeine from the cute little coffeeshop you'd stopped at earlier began to wear off.

but there had just been something magical about that evening; spending time with friends (albeit, more like acquaintances) had granted you a much-needed break from cramming your mind with an overflow of information that was sure to spill out the moment you answered the last exam question. so, when it was almost midnight and it was time to retire to your bed, you'd insisted on staying out for just a little longer while nobara and the rest returned to their dorms to catch some sleep. yuji had complained something about his legs cramping, but you were feeling giddy, and the stars were twinkling just as bright as the light in nobara's eyes were when you told her you had to soak in the fresh air for as long as you could before being locked in to study again as she laughed and headed home with her pink dog-boy escort in tow.

megumi had mumbled something about staying with you since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. you didn't think too much about it, because if you did, you were sure you'd end up with a faced even more flushed than it was frostbitten from the cold.

so, here you were, strolling down the quieter side of town, a brooding boy with inky dark hair and hands pale with blue veins shoved into the pockets of his jacket trailing behind you. he had one airpod tucked into his pierced ear; you assumed he hadn't brought his headphones because yuji would be there to prattle and babble. even so, you were content not to say anything, so there was plenty of opportunity for him to wear both. but he wasn't. you decided not to linger on it.

you'd just finished writing a silly little note out of the crisp snow gathered on the windshield of some stranger's car; the flakes were cold and biting on your skin, leaving it feeling numb with little droplets of icy water when you pulled away to admire your handiwork.

"actually, maybe i shouldn't be doing that." you decided after a moment, mumbling under your breath. it was just a little message with a whiskered smiley face, but the headlights on the car and the bumper seemed to form a frown at you when you stepped back, shaking its motorized head at your vandalism.

"you think?"

megumi's voice sounded from behind you, a little weighed down by the cold with a wisp of warmth leaving his lips like a powdery exhale, curling into the prickly night air. he was standing on the sidewalk, observing you all prickly-like as if you were some flagrant toddler he was babysitting. you still had to get used to the way his voice sounded after rarely hearing it; the few crumbs you got when your professors forced obligatory presentations onto struggling students had sent this warm, fuzzy feeling collecting in your stomach at the rich tone of velvet it held. not rough or overly deep, but smooth and reassuring. the kind you could fall asleep to; like there was a lullaby just waiting to be poured from his tongue with little scratches in the indent of his tone.

of course, you hadn't heard enough of it to make such an assumption, so when you heard the little quip framed with irritation at the edges, it wasn't all sugary sweetness like you imagined.

"yeah, well, sorry i like to live a little," you huffed, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to resuscitate some warmth back into them with a small little sigh.

"you call that living?" he scoffs a little, cocking an eyebrow at the vandalized toyota behind you. now, it just looked a little sad; imaginary eyebrows over the red lights droopy in disappointment. you followed his gaze, before looking back at him and making a sour face as you stepped onto the sidewalk.

"maybe we just have different tastes, y'know? doesn't mean we don't have to get along like this," you mumbled, shaking your hands out a little to get the remaining snow droplets off before stuffing them back in your blazer pockets. "just like itadori and nobara. one has terrible taste in fashion and the other doesn't, but they both like their bright colors." you feel satisfied with yourself for that one, but clearly, megumi doesn't feel the same. but the corner of his pink lips seem to quirk up just a tiny bit, and you feel pride blooming in your chest.

there's just something about the way it looks— an almost implausible smile coaxed onto his lips by something particularly amusing, reaching his dull blue eyes in a way that made their usual tedious apathy morph into something like fondness, or appreciation. adding a shine to his navy irises the lamp light overhead could only hope to mimic. then again, you didn't let your mind linger on it for too long like usual— so instead you chalked it up to the one other thing that had caught your eye besides the sharpness of his jaw and the handsome slimness of his face: his jacket.

you take back what you said about his style and its blandness before— it would be unfair to what he was wearing right now. just a simple black turtleneck (one that you were sure he'd worn to the early morning wednesday lecture you had a few days ago, when the sun was still bright enough to catch on the condensation of the cup of lemonade your white-haired, oddly sweet-toothed professor had), and black jeans, but the vintage racing windbreaker hanging from his shoulders brought it together in a way that was unfairly seamless; all dark blues and stripes of checker; a neutral grayblue that reminded you of the sky on rainy afternoons, trudging about the shopping districts in tokyo. there were a few brand patches here and there, some red bubble lettering of names you didn't recognize in patches of color that brought out the shade of his eyes. maybe the labels of those energy drink brands you often caught him running on when the shadows beneath his long dark lashes seemed heavier than usual.

all that to say he looked good. like, seriously good. you didn't know how you hadn't noticed all night— but now that you had, it was hard to keep your eyes from his slim and tall silhouette (not that he minded). the jacket really complimented it.

"that's a neat jacket. where'd you get it?" you asked after a moment of chilling silence; he'd probably noticed you looking, and you prayed he didn't think you were checking him out. although, if that meant getting your hands on one of those windbreakers, you wouldn't really mind. he glanced up at you, tearing his attention from the sad snowy toyota camry that seemed worn past its years at the newfound attention on megumi's racing jacket. he blinked a little, and you didn't miss the little flake of frost on his eyelash; probably caught from brushing past a windowsill earlier. by now, most shops were closed; even so, the street still felt warm and safe. well, maybe it was to be credited to a person rather than the concrete— but like you had been all night, you ignored it.

"oh, this?" as if he was wearing more than one jacket (it was cute), "i thrifted it." and for some reason, you didn't expect to be surprised, but you were. him? thrifting? the few western-fashion tailored thrift stores you'd been to with nobara had been lacking— not like you'd been able to stay in them long; the artificial ginger had this... beef with reused clothes. she liked her clothes clean and fresh from the press, even if you reminded her they could just be fresh from someone else's press. megumi must be familiar with the antiquated racks of varied worn graphic tees and frayed pants if he could fish something that classy from a thrift store.

then again, it's not like you had any experience to go off of at all.

"really? y'know, i've always wanted to go thrifting," you sighed, stretching your arms out, watching the fabric of your blazer wrinkle and curve to follow the movement of your muscles. a light dusting of snow coated the surface, like powdered sugar on tiramisu. that makes the coffee stains fitting. "but i feel like i'm bad at it." you said, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk, the rubber bottom of your sneakers brushing against a little clump of pine green weeds.

"bad at it?" megumi echoes, following you with a faint ruffle of smooth fabric, like the sound of a zipper sliding down. before, the world had been a cool shade of gray, like smoke rising from a cigarette or the blurry blue of the sky from the window of a speeding bullet train. but now, you let yourself soak in the sound of his voice, like grinded coffee beans and a smooth, soothing honey medicine for your throat on a sick day when you get to cozy up in your bunk bed and watch the clouds drift by.

it's nice.

"yeah. like, i wouldn't know where to go, or what to find, or what to look for..." you trailed off, rubbing your cold fingers together again as your breaths leave in little exhales of coagulating mist in the cold night air. now that it was late, it the temperature would only continue to drop.

you walked in silence for a little longer, listening to the scuffles of shoes against concrete, glassy with ice that had begun to creep up on the roads like a steady stream of seafoam from the tides.

"why don't we go thrifting now, then?" he asks out of the snowy blue.

you paused, and you almost smacked straight into a pole. "now?" you spluttered, turning around to face him. the look on his face was unreadable; a mix between exasperation, amusement, an attempt at stoicism, and something like affection in the corner of his lips as they curved upward. it was like a CPR compression; the smile that sent fuzzy electricity through your veins and reinvigorated your heart.

"yes, now." he said it like you were stupid, which you might just be, the way you stared dumbly at his face. "the place i got this jacket from is just over there," he said, jutting a ring-adorned thumb behind him. you had to lean up and peek around his shoulder to see it; you wouldn't've noticed if he didn't point it out. it was tucked between two buildings, a stairway downward into the store. the only thing indicating its status as a retail and thrifting store was the broken neon sign and painted red arrow that gestured towards the staircase.

"looks really shady. and it's late." you grumbled after you got over yourself, and he shot you an irritated look. that was all he really seemed to be doing tonight; that downward knit of his dark eyebrows and the slight pout weighing his lips down. not very suave, you think.

he swallows hard, and you aimlessly watch the bob of his adam's apple. "well?" he prompts, a hard edge to his voice despite the situation. you stand there for a little while, marinating in the growing cold until you cant feel the tips of your fingers.

"fine."

one accidental slip on the crosswalk and a few minutes later, you're stepping down the last wooden stair of the thrift store and into the building's basement; it's much bigger than you would've thought, with an expanse of layered clothing racks that obscure your vision, the corners of the walls clogged with cobwebs and years of dust build up. there's a faint lingering scent of cigarette smoke and cologne; something vanilla that you've caught clinging to megumi's wrists and neck on the rare occasion you brush past him. faint jazz spills from the speakers, something in a swing rhythm with the signature lilt of saxophone that makes you think you should be out enjoying a romantic fancy dinner instead of being cooped up between old wrinkly moth-bitten clothes. but you're here with megumi, so you convince yourself you don't mind either way.

"you sure this is the right place?" you asked, trying (and failing) to keep the obvious distain from your voice as you kick a folded 'floor-is-wet' sign from your path and step into the store. you can't even see the cash register from where you're standing.

"yes, i'm sure. can you stop complaining?" you can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice, and you're sure you could see it too if you just turned around. "trust me. it's not all shit." his voice softens, and you freeze up a little as he brushes past you; the corridors and margins are tight, so he has to turn sideways to fit. even so, a tag on your coat manages to snag on his jacket, and you hasten to unhook it before he can notice. he almost disappears into the racks, and you have to follow him, pushing your way through thick coats and worn graphic tees that have cracked logos and balls of lints clinging to them.

you're no thrifting expert, but you're pretty sure the store's supposed to be in better condition than this.

"hey." megumi's voice soon snaps you back into reality, and you look up from the mustard yellow top you were eyeing warily to meet his sedate gaze. "the good stuff's in the back. c'mon." he doesn't give you much room to argue even though it sounds like you're here to do drugs rather than find clothing, and before you can react he's reached forward to grab your wrist and tug you along. a yelp of protest almost spills from your lips, but you bite your tongue and let him drag you along, trying to extinguish the hue of cherry you know is making a home on the tips of your ears.

you brush past patchwork coats and a few leather belts that've tangled with the lace from the silk shirts next to them, but nothing really catches your eye, until you realize that he's let go of you only because of the lack of warmth around your skin and you focus yourself on the current again. you glance up at him, but he already has his back turned to you, sifting through a rack of black shirts that all look the exact same. maybe you have an untrained eye, though.

still, you can't help it when your gaze lingers over the back of his neck; one strand of dark hair has caught itself beneath the collar of his turtleneck, and it irks you. and you decide to do something about it because you'll know it'll bother you if you don't.

time seems to move in a liquid slow; things are blurring and there's no mothballs or ugly recycled coats to get in your way as you reach over and swipe your hand across his neck, hooking a finger beneath the strand and pulling it out of his collar. it takes you a moment to realize what you just did, and when you do, it's like there's a permanent mark seared into your index finger just from the touch of his skin against your own. you think he might have whiplash because he turns his head around so fast to catch your gaze before you can slink away, eyes wide and eyebrows knit, and you notice his bottom lip is snagged between his teeth.

he raises an eyebrow, but before he can utter a shaming word that'll only make you feel more embarrassed you shake your head vigorously, apologetically.

"sorry— it was bothering me. i hope you don't mind." you managed to say, the words spilling out in a rush before you turned away and slipped past him, disappearing into an aisle of dresses. you can feel his gaze burning cold holes into your back as you distract yourself.

you don't let yourself linger on what you just did— you seem to be doing a lot of that, lately, especially with him as you go through a few batches of clothing. by now, it's far past midnight, and you're feeling much more sluggish than you'd like to admit. you haven't seen megumi in a good twenty minutes save for the few times you picked up a few shirts and a cute diner jacket you thought would look good on him. he just thanked you bluntly, taking the bundle of clothing from your arms before walking away to the fitting rooms. you wished he'd stay to let you see the jacket.

you'd tried on a few things, discarding your blazer in favor of a cute knitted cardigan you grabbed, but nothing seemed to stick the way you'd like them to. it would be a great help if you had nobara to assist, but you were sure she was snoring away at home right now, and at the thought of your warm, inviting bed, your knees wobbled a little and you balanced yourself on the wall.

"hey— oh, you alright?" it's an unfamiliar voice; you lift your head up, looking for the source. it's a young boy— he looks to be about your age, maybe a little younger. there's a blue lanyard around his neck, and he's got a spattering of freckles on his hands, which are curled around the collar of a white linen shirt. he must be the one who's tending to the store.

"yeah, i'm okay. sorry," you said hastily, pushing away and rubbing the back of your neck. how embarrassing— he didn't seem to mind, though. he just smiled, big and bright and toothy. cute. reminded you of how toddlers would grin up at parents with those huge red lollipops in hand.

"no worries. i just thought i'd let you know that we're closing soon, since it's almost 2am." he said, shifting his weight on his sneakers. you nodded, about to give a hum of confirmation before another voice cuts through the slow jazz filling the stifling air above, all familiar in its smoothness.

before you could respond, though— "[name]?" megumi's voice rang out in the quaint little store, calling for you, and so you give the employee an apologetic nod before you turn and start toward the noise. you pass a mirror with a coat draped over the top, peeking your head around a tall rack of long skirts to catch sight of the raven head, in all of his glory. you notice that he's taken off his windbreaker.

"what’s up? we have to go soon," you reminded him, yawning a little and rubbing your eyes as you straightened up and stepped over to his side. there was another mirror in front of him, you noticed, with fading stickers pale in the dim yellow light stuck to the wooden rim. even so, with the smudges and the bare sheen of the silver, he looked good. that black turtleneck really suits him.

"i know. i just wanted to ask for your opinion." he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. you tilted your head curiously, and he held up a deep mauve sweatshirt, with some varsity logo branded on the fabric. it had a nice touch to it; a warm color that reminded you of red wine and slow evenings. you were sure it had been one of the pieces you'd picked out for him, but you were too sleepy to recall. "you should try it on. i think it'd look good," you said, gesturing toward the mirror.

you think you must've said something wrong, because he looks at you for a moment too long before he seems to catch himself staring and he nods, a choked little sound leaving his throat which he hides by ducking his head down and covering his face with his long bangs. you think you're hallucinating the pink on his cheeks.

after a moment, he glances at you. "hold this," he shoves his jacket towards you, and you have no choice but to take it. doesn't seem like he's used to taking no for an answer, but you're certainly not the one complaining when he tugs the sweater over his head, ruffling his soft black hair as he steps a little closer to you, observing himself in the mirror while straightening out the folds and fixing his turtleneck. you were right— it does look good on him. almost unfairly so— you don't know how he manages to rock granny clothes so well, like he was born a retirement home's runway model.

unlike him, you're not a reticent shut in— and although you'd like to say you have no problem telling him how good he looks, it's still a little difficult when the words feel like they're lodged in your throat in order to prevent you from making a fool of yourself again. but you ignore it and push on.

"you look great. i think it really suits you," you breathed, shaking your head as your hands tighten around his jacket in your arms. he blinks, adjusting the collar before glancing down at you. you take a moment to really appreciate the sight— him, bathed in the soft yellow glow of the chipped lights overhead. despite the dilapidated store and the antiquated, worn clothing surrounding him, he still manages to look like some ethereal angel boy you'd stumble upon in a bookstore on a dreary winter's afternoon and never be able to get out of your mind again.

ink black eyelashes flutter when he blinks, framing his eyes like the bangs falling over his face when he turns around again to observe himself in the mirror once more before he takes the sweatshirt off. it catches on his turtleneck, which rides up when he slips the mauve sweater over his head, tussling his hair and exposing the dip of his pale hips, all muscle and flesh and bone, and you pray he chalks up the red on your face to the cold. the end of his belt dangles from the buckle as you hand his jacket back to him, fingers almost brushing— just barely out of reach.

a meager conversation flows between the two of you; you follow him through the endless maze of used clothing until you somehow stumble upon the cash register and he buys his sweater; the only thing he manages to buy after all this time spent milling about in a dusty, dinky little retail store. the boy from earlier helps check him out, and the icy glare he receives from megumi when he glances at you seems to fly straight past your head as you pick at your cuticles. the tips of your fingers are still red from messing with the frosty snow earlier. you wonder when the car owner will find your message.

it's almost freezing when you get out of the dusty shop, emerging from the smoke-stained alleyway stairs and into the cold night air. your breaths almost seem to form a precipitate, and the thought reminds you of the chemistry conversions waiting for you on your desk beneath the lamp, and you cringe internally. staying out for a few hours longer seems way better than succumbing to the never ending stream of worksheets and documents calling your name. you wonder if your charismatic professor will let you get away with a few assignments if you call in sick. are papercuts excuse enough?

the click of a lock behind you signifies the store's closing— the employee left through a back exit, it seems. and you realize too late that you left your blazer in the dressing room when you turn around and a sigh falls from your lips. megumi, paper bag in hand, glances over at you.

"you okay?"

you almost forgot he was there, in his brooding vintage racing jacket glory. you shake your head, before sighing forlornly again. he notices this, making a little face; his lips press together and his pretty eyes narrow. he thinks you sigh far too much. you'd look prettier if you smiled some more. he likes it when you do.

"i left my blazer in there, but he just closed it and it's so fucking cold out," you whined, bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes tiredly. you're cold and your fingers are going numb again, and there's light snowfall. so much for not losing your coat at a club. you can't tell which one's worse. "sorry to complain so much, but do you mind if we—"

you're promptly cut off; the words on your tongue left unsaid, burning with the taste of bitter black coffee. your gaze trails from megumi's hand, the clink of his silver ring against the zipper rail of his jacket as his fingers curl around the fabric, up his arm to the sleeves of his dark turtleneck, rounding the curve of his shoulders and up his neck to his face. he's not looking at you.

the words that leave his wet lips are so small and hurried that you think you're hallucinating them; when you inevitably looked back at this moment later, you'd realize that he was being shy. he mumbles something under his sweet breath, and you ask him to speak up.

"i said, you can use mine." he repeats, louder than necessary as he finally brings himself to look down at you from under his lashes, biting the inside of his cheek. his voice is a little strained, and a soft breeze carrying the smell of cinnamon and fresh ice rustles his hair. you blinked, feeling like a deer caught in headlights over a layer of thin ice, ready to shatter at a moment's notice.

"oh— okay. um, do you have anywhere else you need to go..?" you said tentatively, reaching forward to take his jacket again. it was exactly like how you'd done back in the thrift store, but the vague sense of deja vu you get is accompanied by an endless fluttering of warmth in your stomach that melts away the winters and tiring exams, and the night seems to become a soft warm orange, as if someone's drained the cool hues from the landscape.

megumi just shook his head, reaching into his bag and taking out the sweater he'd bought earlier. he slips it on again, adjusting it over his shoulders and refusing to meet your eyes as he crumples the paper bag in his hands. you notice they're slightly trembling as he does it, fingers digging into the material with much more force than is really needed. his hair follows each movement of his head; the strain of the muscles in his neck when he swallows again and gestures for you to follow him back down the empty street, past cars coated in melting snow and jaunty yellow lights twinkling over the awnings of closed store windows, shut down for the night. the sweater suits him really well, you think; not too loose, but tight enough in the right places to send your heart racing a mile a minute.

you pull his jacket over your arms, tucking your sleeves in and zipping it up. it's big on you— that's no surprise, and you can almost taste the vanilla on your tongue, his cologne lingering on every fold of the insulated fabric. it's warm, and it feels like being enveloped in a tight hug. in megumi's head, he hopes— prays its him you think of if you ever feel that way again.

you walk in a stiff silence; both of you want to say something, but you're dancing around it, letting your words linger unsaid until the other breaks the ice first. it's only ever cracked once you reach the dorms, where you part ways. there's light snowfall, and a thin layer of white has coated his hair when you turn to face him. you reach forward, learning onto the tips of your toes to brush off the ice. his hair feels unimaginably soft beneath your fingers, slightly damp from the snow. but he's the furthest from cold when you pull away; his face is burning up.

by now, you can't bring yourself to mind.

"thank you," you said softly, sighing contentedly. you move to take his jacket off your shoulders and return it, but he stops you, holding a hand up. the expression on his face is unreadable, but his lips are pursed together in a way that makes you think he's pouting.

"don't worry—" a pause. " you can, uh. keep it. i know you wanted one. just... give it back when you want, yeah?" he says, curt. almost prude, if it weren't for the way he was avoiding your gaze out of embarrassment. it was like trying to play the world's most difficult game of whack-a'mole, attempting to catch his eyes and see the iceberg that's melted into pools of warm glittering affection in his blue irises. at the thought, you wonder if he likes arcades, and you make a mental note to suggest an activity to nobara the next time she has the urge for an escapade.

you don't bother asking him whether he's sure, because you don't want him to take his words back. so you linger there in a moment of silence, letting it hang over your heads like a warm throw blanket, cozied in front of a fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. maybe a coffee mix like you'd attempted before.

angel boy clears his throat first to speak, all honey that links the syllables together like christmas ribbon; rich like orange flavored dark chocolate. "i'll see you later, then." it's short and sweet, but your heart is already flying so high on euphoria you can barely bring yourself to care, or suppress the giddy grin that's spreading across your lips.

yeah, you're tired. yeah, you're still a little cold and you think you need to thaw at your desk for a week until exams, but at least you've got his jacket to accompany you when your study buddy passes out first and you're alone on all nighters. frankly, you can't bring yourself to care— your head is spinning with the events of the chilly night, from crude messages in the snow to thrift store mothballs and lanyards, to one checkered racing jacket. but you don’t think it’s so bad when it threatens to stick to your memory, like chewed up gum under your professor’s desk. whether it’s from the students or the professor, that’s a mystery you’ll never solve.

"yeah. see you around, fushiguro." you can’t say the same about the mystery that megumi is, though. in fact, you think you’re already one step closer when you turn around and part ways, catching sight of him in the reflection of a frosted window. he’s slipping both of his airpods back into his ears, crimson at the tips.

the sound of your shoes against the rug stairway fills your ears as you clamber back up to your dorm, eyelids heavy with drowsiness and face flushed a pleasant warmth. even when you finally get to bed, you can't stop your eyes from drifting over to the bundle of lapis blue fabric sitting on your desk, and your mind from the soft spoken boy with eyes like the night sky and inky hair like calligraphy.

you decide you don't think his style is too bad, after all. and when you tell him that the next morning when he's still sleepy and his lashes fall slow when he blinks the weariness from his eyes, you get to enjoy the steady flush that stains his cheeks and prompts a hoarse cough from his throat when he ducks his head away and grumbles something under his breath, probably about being offended you even thought he was boring in the first place.

and if you ever ask, the only reason he lent you his windbreaker that night was to replace the scent of mothballs and dust with your sweet-smelling perfume.

so, as it turns out, you're able to get your hands on one of those pretty vintage racing jackets— except, it wasn't a new one; it was his. nobara hasn't stopped pestering you with questions since you showed up to class the next day; the only thing you hear for the next week is how much she regrets leaving early.

apparently, it's all yuji's fault.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[downanight]

p.s. - for a mobile friendly version of our member groups page, click read more!

STANDARD MEMBER GROUPS

all our standard member groups will be free and available on our launch date! we’ve based these on aesthetics versus traits to make them more flexible for you - please consider them loose rather than a total prescription of what your character needs to be!

BAGEL 🥯

vintage corduroy. rollerskates. peanut butter by the spoonful. thrift store couches. ferris wheels. hand drawn artwork. moodboards. watching the sunrise. camera shutters. undiscovered beauty. well-worn sneakers. banana splits. signing petitions. meditation. wise words. sprigs of lavender. long walks. wire rimmed glasses. humming under the breath. cluttered desks. creases between eyebrows. mismatched socks. happy little accidents. wide open windows. swatches. scratched heads. controlled chaos. spinning endlessly. pressed flowers. staring out the window.

BURRITO 🌯

cracking knuckles. the loudest voice at the table. impatient tapping. long term plans. 5am alarms. firm handshakes. sleek cars. dark blazers. polished brass. structured pants. avocado toast. belgian chocolate. annual gym memberships. my way or the highway. black coffee. dramatic sighs. whiskey on the rocks. swipe left swipe left swipe left. moodboards. neat lists. withering stares. asleep at the desk. ambient lighting. no room for mistakes. first place trophies. rehearsed speeches. hardwood flooring. never say never. late night cigarettes. ticking clocks. grasped hands.

COOKIE 🍪

blanket forts. home-cooked meals. words of encouragement. fireworks in the summer. hot fudge. black and white classics. unfinished thoughts. fuzzy socks. lost items in an old coat. hitting snooze over and over. nostalgia in everything. large families. ocean waves coming to shore. deep breaths. salt stains. juicy peaches. earthen dishware. chamomile tea. flour smeared cheeks. pumpkin spice. walks in the woods. blossoming carnations. slender jewelry. foreheads pressed together. slow jazz. filled calendars. warm cookies. unexpected gifts. fantasies.

FRENCH FRY 🍟

creased maps. raging waterfalls. unwashed hair. instant coffee. one way tickets. sunsets over the desert. root beer floats. half smoked cigarettes. grass stained jeans. dark chocolate. eye roll emoji. 3% battery. crowded concerts. sarcastic greeting cards. acid trips. candlelight. old posters. midnight swimming. warm musk. driving with the top down. burritos with extra guac. forgetting to text back. urban exploring. rumbling thunder. found family. rope swings. just jump. sharing stories. packing light. warm beer. road trips with no destination. bare faced. falling leaves. never look back.

HOT DOG 🌭

small details. herb gardens. busy city streets. conspiratorial smiles. baby powder fresh. tailgating at the big game. extra espresso shots. saying yes. endless ocean. meaningless tattoos. whatever’s on draft. 5k races. answers to everything. all night phone calls. truth or dare. messy buns. raspberry sorbet. you’re my bro, bro. cheating at monopoly. passing out on the couch. conversations with strangers. smolders. act now, think later. leather jackets. smudged makeup. restlessness. loud laughter. confident strides. natural talent. what ifs. hairbrained schemes.

PRETZEL 🥨

dogeared books. leather satchels. phone on silent. noise cancelling headphones. new book smell. chai lattes. chewed fingernails. dancing in the rain. trivia nights. succulents on the windowsill. all white bedding. a wrinkled dress shirt. messy handwriting. true crime podcasts. 5am drives. classic matte lipstick. bare feet in the grass. chapped lips. bullet journals. tired but satisfied. carefully chosen words. old libraries. well brushed hair. fresh bread. untouched snow. antiques. the shade from trees. bicycles. knitted scarves. knowing looks. first hand up in class. reliable suits.

PIZZA 🍕

dancing on tables. baggy shirts. salty fries. smeared make-up. bed head. bold statements. frappuccinos. fashionably late. lucky charms. girls nights in. roaring laughs. siri, open tinder. reality television. takeout on speed dial. midnight skinny dipping. incorrect turns of phrase. wilting houseplants. thriving on chaos. rocky road. hiding junk in closets. long island iced tea. long contact lists. bright confetti. breakfast for dinner. sweatpants. running from responsibilities. dark sunglasses. funky socks. fading hickies. social butterfly. novelty couch cushions. water balloon fights.

PREMIUM MEMBER GROUPS

our premium member groups will be up for grabs once the site launches. to gain a premium member group you’ll need to buy it with points, so get plotting, threading and saving up! purchasing a premium group will give you a cute new skin variation and colours, as well as some lovely prizes and opportunities!

CEREAL 🥣

paint splattered t-shirts. lush green fields. toothy grins. patchouli and sage. tiny tattoos. handwritten notes. mud tracked through the house. classic rock music. unread messages. chipped mugs. tangled headphones. repurposed leftovers. misunderstood punch lines. loaning money. old architecture. wandering. herbal remedies. heavy backpacks. chunky boots. encouraging smiles. thought-out haikus. tarot cards. pots of soup. charitable donations. unruly manes. socks and sandals. warm honey. old cars. golden hour. earl grey. canvas tents. gingham blankets.

CUPCAKE 🧁

maraschino cherries. no set schedules. comic books. wildflowers. light up sneakers. cosy beds. bubblegum. stacks of pancakes. singing in the shower. conversations with dogs. post its on the mirror. romantic comedies. champagne kisses. giddiness. blue sky thinking. twirling in a sundress. saturday morning cartoons. cursive handwriting. crushing hard on strangers. rolling down hills. chewed pen caps. bursts of excitement. hair flipping. cheap drinks. outright flirting. youtube marathons. great with kids. graphic shirts. tik tok trends. silver linings. welcome distractions. impromptu picnics.

ICE CREAM 🍦

drunk tattoos. neon lights. conspiratorial smiles. smashed phone screens. cheap wine. last night’s leftovers. walks of shame. scratches on backs. polaroid pictures. mischievous glances. glow sticks and glitter. crop tops. technopop. laughing til it hurts. bottles of vodka. messy bedrooms. dirt under fingernails. salty fries. bruised knees. doing it for the meme. scars with stories. lips between teeth. glossy lips. thumping bass. splashing puddles. throwing arms in the air. sleep is for the weak. bed head. wake and bake. adrenaline rushes. borrowed dollars. leaps of faith. live fast, die young.

NOODLES 🍜

starry nights. crossword puzzles. listening carefully. sci fi movies. art galleries. snorts of laughter. statement clothing. birds in flight. video games. catching fireflies. foreign films. angry tweets. stacks of books in the corner. saying the wrong thing. dramatic haircuts. taking the train. watching tv with subtitles on. highlighted pages. far off lands. pretending to be someone else. matcha. steamed up mirrors. people watching. documentaries. untied shoelaces. reminders on the back of the hand. underestimation. dad jokes. blanket burritos. nervous texting crushes.

SUSHI 🍣

candle-lit dinners. chilled wine. sound of stilettos on the sidewalk. twilight hours. lipstick on white collars. polished metal. few but close knit friends. love of higher society. hand on chest when laughing. french manicures. caprese salad. luxury watches. leather wallets. long walks on the beach. living peacefully. minimalistic decor. croissants and fruit. flower bouquets. sleek sweaters. well-made beds. pistachio macarons. the glow of a laptop. marie kondo methods. french press coffee. pressed linen. broadsheet newspapers. vanilla bean. grand pianos. long swims.

POPCORN 🍿

dark movie theaters. hand-holding. stuffed french toast. bulky sweaters. hot chocolate. heads on shoulders. beaten up converse. bowls of ramen. comfortable silence. pinky promises. old favorites. tight hugs. dusky evenings. gin and tonic. bubble baths. ruffled hair. slouchy shirts. carnival ferris wheels. amaretto sours. wide umbrellas. quiet murmurs. too many emojis. overstuffed couches. a push in the right direction. hand-me-downs. vcr collections. acoustic guitars. grandma’s casserole dish. sworn protectors. body warmth. aloe plants. waffle cones. dappled sunlight.

WAFFLE 🧇

careful notes. scrabble champions. never wrong. secluded cabins. under eye bags. never misses a phone call. the road less travelled. bitten lips. zoning out. keyboard warriors. cloudy lemonade. forgotten meals. ripples in water. debating at the dinner table. crossword puzzles in ink. crackling fires. best laid plans. paragraphs in journals. long stretches. budget spreadsheets. food magazines. thriving houseplants. practical advice. tailored clothes. raised eyebrows. protein shakes. filling the swear jar. decisive nods. leather couches. lined paper. reason over feelings.

[xvii-chapters]

I Am You, You Are Me || Soulmate!Soonyoung || Oneshot

GENRE: fluff, soulmate!au, non-famous, convenience stores, college kids

WORDS: 3413

BLURB: Are ugly sweaters a trend nowadays?

A/N: Obviously heavily inspired by Zico’s song of the same name. Have been wanting to finish this for FOREVER, and finally! It’s also my first gender-neutrel fic so please go easy on me. Hope you guys like :)

“Hyung! Could you get me some ramen from the convenience store?”

“Why can’t you get it yourself?”

Chan swivelled in his chair to face the older boy, pouting slightly. “I’m studying! And it’s cold outside. These finals are really important, you know this! What if I catch a cold out there?”

A loud sigh came from the couch where Soonyoung was laying on. “Then eat the ramen we have! Mingyu just went grocery shopping yesterday.”

“But I want my favourite…” The younger boy was petulant and Soonyoung found himself sighing again, sitting up to face his favourite dongsaeng. The kid looked exhausted – what he needed was sleep, not ramen – but one look at that pout and Soonyoung was slowly standing up, though not without a bit of groaning and feigned reluctance.

“You’re lucky I love you kid,” Soonyoung muttered, searching for a sweater and his keys. Chan’s lips quirked up into a grin. “Thanks hyung. You’re the best.”

“Yeah yeah.” Soonyoung wandered into his room and grabbed the first thing off the floor, pulling it over his head. When he walked out Chan was scrunching his nose at him.

“What?”

“You’re wearing that?” the younger boy asked with disdain.

“What? It’s comfy!”

“It’s ugly.”

“It’s late. No one’s going to look at what I’m wearing.”

“But–”

“Do you want your ramen or not?” Soonyoung threatened. Chan just shrugged, turning back to his work. “Do whatever you want hyung. I’m just saying you never know when you’ll bump into your soulmate and I doubt you want to be caught in that ugly sweater.”

Soonyoung just rolled his eyes and left the dorm. Instantly, a cold whip of air hit him. Ugly or not, he’d rather be warm in the thick sweater than freeze to death trying to make a good impression, soulmate be damned.

Working at a convenience store was very boring as you had quickly found out less than a week into your new job. Especially if one happens to be on the graveyard shift, which was unfortunately the one you were currently working right now. The store itself wasn’t so bad – it was nicer than most, the main colour scheme being reds and pinks instead of the usual puke green, and had indie neon décor. But with not much else to do besides restocking the already well-stocked shelves and counting the money in the cash register every ten minutes, even the whimsical setting lost its wonder after a few days. You had stopped caring about how you looked after the first day when you quickly realized the only people who came into the store at this time were hungry college kids or middle-aged men looking for booze.

When the bell rang on you shift that night, the person who walked through immediately fell into the first category.

Watch as he walks straight to the back with the ramen… And of course he did. He read the labels quickly before putting a whole bunch of the same type into a basket. He moved closer to the front where the chips were and you got to observe his side profile. You didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that he was the most exciting thing you had seen all night – all week actually – and he did have quite a nice side profile; high cheekbones but chubby cheeks (how does that work?) and a sharp jawline. Striking eyes.

When he turned to the front you quickly looked away. You started picking on your sleeve instead, tracing the huge white number one on it. Admittedly it was an ugly sweater – your mom had bought it for you when she went through a thrift store phase – and if you had known this guy would come into the store that night, you would definitely have worn something nicer.

A basket was placed on the counter and you realized the guy was done with his shopping. You looked up a little startled – thankfully he was looking elsewhere.

You scanned the items quickly. “That would be fifteen–”

You frowned. You took in the guy’s appearance once more. There was something familiar about his outfit that you couldn’t really place a finger on. Have you seen that top somewhere before? Your eyes widened when it hit you. You two were wearing the exact same sweater!

“Is there a problem?” the boy asked, shaking you out of your reverie.

“No no, nothing’s wrong.” You forced a smile. “That will be fifteen-oh-six.”

When you handed over the bag you noticed something else that was curious – on the pinky finger of his left hand he wore a silver ring much like the one you wore on your right.

“Hello?” There was a questioning look on his face as he held out the money.

“Oh I’m sorry!” Flustered, you counted out the proper change and returned it to him. “Um, have a nice night.”

The boy gave you a bemused look, before heading out the door. You watched him through the glass windows until he was out of sight. Then you went back to staring at the four walls and pondered over the chances of a good-looking boy walking in at 2am wearing the exact same sweater as the one your mom had found at the bottom of a discount pile.

Soonyoung toed off his shoes and put the keys back on the hook when he arrived at the dorm. On the way inside he passed by the hallway mirror and couldn’t help but stop and stare. He frowned at his sweater in particular. Were ugly sweaters a trend nowadays?

“Hyung! Is that you?” Chan called from inside.

“Yeah I’ve got your ramen!” Soonyoung took off the ugly thing – Chan had turned the heat way too high while he was gone – and bustled into the kitchen. He filled the kettle and tore open a bowl of ramen for himself. Chan padded in soon after, muttering “finally” while he waited for the water to boil.

“Hyung, how many packets of ramen did you buy? It looks like I’ll last the whole week!”

Soonyoung just shrugged, mind too occupied elsewhere. Mainly on the brown sweater and the person who had been wearing the exact same one back at the store.

Chan slid into a chair opposite the older boy. He shrugged. “At least you don’t have to go get more any time soon. Thanks hyung.”

“Huh.” And he had wanted to see you again too.

After that night the boy didn’t come back to the store again and you quickly forgot about the whole thing. Well, not really – he still had been pretty cute – but it was secondary now, especially since you were neck deep in finals. You studied fashion at the local university – the irony – and were about to start on the science of buttons and bowties when the bell jangled for the first time that night and in walked a smartly dressed man. Leather jacket, biker gloves and distressed black jeans. The fashion student in you nodded approvingly. Not bad. In fact, the outfit looked a little too good for the night-time and the gloves with the tips cut-off probably did nothing to protect his fingers from the cold. Your eyes trailed up to look at the man in question and –

Oh. It was the cute guy from before. At that moment he turned to look at you and you were oddly unable to look away. Instead the both of you waited to see who would break the stare first and it ended up being him. His gaze fell onto the top you were wearing and he frowned a little, ducking into an aisle when he noticed you noticing him.

Curious, you looked down at your clothes and – oh my god – you had on leather jacket too. You frowned – it couldn’t be mere coincidence, could it? When you looked back up you realized the boy was watching you through the cracks in the shelves and wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore. You should have been creeped out but all you felt was a surge of annoyance so you glared back instead. On any other occasion that would have been a wrong move – an idiotic one, a dangerous one, one you wouldn’t have taken for fear of the stranger getting provoked by your rude manner – but there was nothing threatening about this boy and something told you he couldn’t hurt you even if he wanted to.

Feigning nonchalance the boy went back to his shopping, picking up a couple bags of chips and another few cups of ramen, different flavours this time. Then he stopped by the Drinks section and bent down to retie his laces. On a whim you decided to check your laces too – the one on your left shoe had come undone, while the boy’s was on his right.

When you turned back to him, the boy was focused on you. You hadn’t realized you had stood up and gone around the counter to see what he was doing. You pretended to be interested in something else and went back to your seat. From the corner of your eye you saw the boy smirk. Well.

You didn’t even know him but he was ticking you off in all the wrong places. You took off your jacket so at least you wouldn’t have to be dressed the same way as his cocky ass. Unfortunately when he came over to pay, you realized he had also taken his jacket off. Then you saw it. Your stomach plunged and your heart started beating wildly.

You knew you should be rational about such things but it couldn’t just be coincidence anymore. He was wearing a shirt with the exact same design as yours but in inverse colours – a doodle of a smiling man with lines for eyes and squiggly hair. This made the boy smirk even more.

“Six dollars, fifteen cents,” you said coolly, handing him the plastic bag. It hardly even surprised you that he had a gold bracelet around his wrist and another ring around his index finger, the same as you did. You quickly hid your hand behind your back. The boy left with a hint of amusement in his eyes.

It went much the same for the following weeks. He didn’t come every day but when he did he was always wearing something similar thing to you, no matter how drastically you changed your style. One time you had been so frustrated you asked your roommate to pick out the ugliest thing in your closet for you. It turned out to be a fuzzy yellow sweater you had gotten for Christmas but never wore. You gave it a classy finish (what kind of fashion student would you be if you left the house like a slob?) with a nice watch and stupid Spongebob bag you got from a flea market, just to piss off the Universe.

That night he came on an orange bike wearing the same yellow sweater and an identical watch. His phone with its new Spongebob cover stuck out from his back pocket. You huffed. The Universe has gotten creative, it seems.

He didn’t leave immediately and instead circled the store a couple of times, doing tricks on the bike whenever he passed by the front where you were. On the inside you were secretly impressed. But whenever he glanced over eagerly at you, you would just roll your eyes making him laugh. He gave a giant wave before cycling off into the night.

The boy was soon a familiar presence and it was slowly becoming clear exactly what you two were, but you didn’t want to give in that easily. On occasion you would be nice and allow him a small smile which he seemed content with, leaving the store with a grin brighter than you had ever seen. It was ridiculous how long you two spent dancing around each other but you suspected neither of you were ready yet to put a name to whatever this was, so you just let him circle around you and for now that was enough.

“Hyung, we have to talk about this.”

“Not now Chan I’m busy.”

“No, NOW hyung!” The younger boy tore the console away from Soonyoung, ignoring the older boy’s protests as his game character fell into a pit and got torn to bits. Chan jabbed at the screen. “See that? That’s what I’ll do to you if we don’t talk about your habit.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Soonyoung crossed his arms and sulked petulantly, although he very well knew why Chan was angry. In response the younger gestured wildly to the growing pile of snacks on the kitchen counter.

“I’m taking about this hyung! You’ve bought way too many snacks for the both of us to finish!”

A head popped up from the pile, smiling widely. “Don’t worry, that’s what we’re here for.”

“Not helping, Jun-hyung,” Chan deadpanned.

Another head popped up from the pile. Jihoon was already munching on a bag of chips, another smaller packet stuffed into his pocket. “Hey if it means I get free food for the rest of my life I’ll gladly support Soonyoung never manning up and telling his soulmate they are soulmates.”

“And that is another thing we have to talk about.” Chan whipped back around still frowning as Soonyoung tried to melt into the couch. “Not only are you wasting all our money, you still don’t even know their name yet!”

Soonyoung mumbled something in response.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you, what was that hyung?” Chan prodded obnoxiously.

“I said they’re not ready yet!” Soonyoung burst out, face red with embarrassment.

“They’re not ready, or you’re not ready?”

“Does it matter?”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Of course it does!” He went round the counter and plopped onto the couch, stretching is legs out across Soonyoung’s lap. “It was so annoying for me when Jun wouldn’t just open his mouth and admit we were soulmates.”

Jun gaped. “HEY you could’ve said something too!”

“I asked for your name, number AND asked you on the first date. The least you could’ve done was confronting the soulmate thing.” Jihoon turned back to Soonyoung conspiratorially. “In the end he didn’t even have to do much because we touched and caused a blackout in the restaurant.”

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYONE THAT–”

“He was yelling and hanging on to me and made the whole thing worst.”

“DUDE NOT COOL.” Jun and tried to lunge and grab Jihoon but the smaller boy was faster, the two of them now engaged in a game of circling each other around the couch.

“So in conclusion, tell them first before something embarrassing happens and they get to dangle it like this over your head.”

Chan and Soonyoung watched the two in awe.

“That’s great advice..?” was all Soonyoung could manage before Jihoon was running out of the dorm with Jun chasing quickly behind him.

The room was suddenly quiet.

Chan shook his head slowly. “That was weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Soonyoung dragged a hand down his face. “Ugh it’s not like I don’t want to! It’s…”

“You’re afraid of commitment.”

“What no-!” he spluttered.

“Don’t lie.” Chan’s face softened. “You did just watch your ex-boyfriend talk about how he met his soulmate.”

Soonyoung coloured but didn’t say anything. The younger boy patted his thigh and settled next to him. “But from what you’ve told me, the person waiting back at the convenience store is your soulmate so it’s about time you claimed them, right?”

“But what if they’re not my soulmate?”

“Then apologize, tell them it was a mistake and wait for your actual one to come along.”

“But I– OWW!” There was suddenly blood dripping down Soonyoung’s finger, dripping onto the floor below.

Chan’s eyes widened in shock. “Hyung? How did that happen!”

“I don’t know! It just did, it fucking hurts–” Soonyoung was hit by a sudden realization. “Oh my god it’s Y/N.”

“Who’s Y/N?” Chan gasped. “Wait, is that their name?”

“What?” The cut was aching too badly and all Soonyoung could think about was that you were hurt somehow. What if you were in trouble? Worry surged through him at the thought and he rushed to put his shoes on and get to you.

“Convenience store person! Y/N is their name right? How do you know it if you’ve never asked?”

“I–I don’t know!” Stupidly Soonyoung jumped to the worst conclusion possible and figured that maybe the Universe had kindly gifted him with your name because that was the only thing he would have of you by the end of today. That only made him put on his jacket faster, his wounded finger dripping blood everywhere, clean carpets be damned.

“Wait, hyung where are you going!”

“To the convenience store!”

“Why? We have Band-Aids at home!” But Soonyoung was already stumbling downstairs to his bike, racing towards you.

The gushing blood was making everything messy and gripping the handlebar was painful but Soonyoung managed by leaning forward on his arms and praying he could keep himself balance like that. The streets were relatively empty due to the time of night for which Soonyoung was grateful. He was too distracted to think about anything else other than making it to you and traffic would have just been a hazard.

When he got to the store the lights were all brightly lit and you were behind the counter. He rushed inside without thinking, “Are you okay?!”

You looked up, startled, “W-what?”

“Your finger! Is it okay, are you okay?!” When he looked down at your hand there was already an animal sticker bandage wrapped neatly around your finger. He was so relieved he almost cried. He didn’t but came close to, breathing a huge sigh.

“You’re okay,” he said without realizing. You were looking at him weirdly but he didn’t care. You were okay and that was all that mattered. He looked you in the eyes and smiled brightly. “You’re not hurt.”

“No…” You gestured to his hand. “But you are.”

Suddenly the implications of his actions came crashing down on him and Soonyoung blushed wildly, trying to hide his finger behind his back. He didn’t even bring his wallet to buy anything from here. You watched him with mild amusement.

“Stay here,” you said.

You went to the back and came out with a first aid kit, placing it on the counter between you two.

Soonyoung quickly refused. “You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine–”

“Shut up and hold your hand out,” you demanded. His flushed deepened but he did as you told, pointing his finger out so it would be easier for you to clean it.

You knew exactly how you had gotten the cut on your own hand – with a rusty pen knife while trying to open a box of Cheetos packets – but you weren’t sure whether his cut would have been formed the same way, so you treated his wound much the same way as you treated your own.

He hissed a little when you poured warm water over the cut but stayed still as you dabbed it dry with the cotton. You rubbed a little antiseptic in with a cotton bud then wrapped a Band-Aid around his finger, an animal print one from the same box where you had taken yours. As you pulled away your fingers brushed. The lights flickered then went off entirely.

Under the dim light of the streetlamps flooding in from outside, you two looked at each other and laughed.

“I guess we can’t say we didn’t see the signs,” Soonyoung chuckled sheepishly.

“I guess not.” He was a shy mess, eyes drifting everywhere but on you so you said, “You’re dressed better today.”

He had on a grey sweater over a white shirt, black pants and a red ribbon around the collar. His hair was swept back and dishevelled, like he had run his hands a few times through it and blown back by the wind.

He grinned. “I could say the same for you.”

You had on something similar except the red was pinned to your chest and there was a black bell choker around your neck.

The silence that followed was charged but not uncomfortable. You smiled cheekily.

“So,” you placed your hands on the counter, facing him. “I take it you are me, soulmate?”

“And I am you,” he returned.

More soulmate stories:  Seungcheol | Joshua | Wonwoo | Seokmin | Mingyu | Seungkwan | Chan

[ichangedmymindalready-blog]

Day 5 Trying not to take stuff for granted, being grateful

I woke up this morning having to shit really bad because I ate a whole all-star meal at Waffle House with two glasses of OJ. I couldn’t decide if I should shit in the airport parking garage, find a bathroom near the airport or drive to a gas station bathroom. I ended up trying to find a bathroom in the garage - NONE. So I drove as fast as possible to the nearest hopefully clean gas station. I shit, I took a bird bath, brushed my teeth, combed my hair, took a couple bathroom pics with my laptop, and then cleaned my car. A laundry mat is right next to the gas station so I instantly thought of starting the day off with dancing but realized there is a worker in there and its kinda weird dancing in a place where people work. Instead, I researched everywhere I was thinking about going today with my GPS and headed to my first spot, Centinnel park. A park in between all the places near downtown Atlanta I wanted to explore. I tried to find Parking that was super cheap or free but couldn’t find that. I circled around the park about twice until I blew a tire trying to circle it my third time. Instantly drove to a gas station, thought I was shit out of luck but didn’t lose my cool, searched for the spare tire - FOUND IT.  I searched for people to help me instead of wasting time pretending to know what I was doing. I spotted out two different construction worker men who looked like they were going to work, I asked  if they could help. One was Mexican and seemed like he couldn’t speak English, he told me he was waiting on someone and about to go to work but never left even after I left, the other guy was black and told me he had to go to work but by the time I finally got someone to help me, he was getting into a car with a odly skinny woman with stray hair and her hands tightened around a few bucks. Finally a guy in the store who ended up actually on the job as a Doritos delivery truck person, helped me and joined him a old black guy with a fat red sports car. After that I Called a bunch of tire places, found one, and headed there. while driving, I listened to Karinas groovy and dance Soundcloud playlists and found some gems, my favorite now to be ____. Finally after some wrong turns on Atlanta butchered roads, I found the tire place got my tired done in twenty minutes, while that was happening I visited a photo place that had film cameras and lenses and found a Nikon battery charger! Now I can take pics! I mightt just stay an extra day in ATL. After getting my charger and fixing my car, went to search the area nad they have a lot of African foods here but I have already spent so much money can’t do that so I sit outside working on my laptop liked I had planned to do later in the day but I figured why not get this anxiety out the way since they paid me. Shit they dont have wifi. What the next stop? But first let me gut this blunt, through the paper in my bad then head to my car ( the spot where I do all my research, the lab) and Search and refinalize my days plan. I head straight to little five points, I park in the neighborhood for da free. I roll a half joint because I broke the paper when I threw it in my bag, grab all my shit and walk into the nearest, cafe or coffee shop. ITs 130 thats how Ive been starting my days and Im cool with it. Im in this place called Brewhouse cafe but its looks nothing more than a bar, a European soccer bar , which is pretty dope to me. I want to go to a European bar just to watch soccer and be a part of the hype honestly. Or an actually soccer match that would be awesome. Ive been doing my work now for about three hours but it feels like 5. But im watching soccer and eating sunflower seeds so im a be alright! So finally got out at the actual 5th hour and I walked through the town and ATLANTA IS A MAGNIFICENT GLAMOUROUS CLUTTER its like my closet theres so much different things that you can go through. So I went through every single store out of 5 stores until it was 630 and time for me to head to the movies. I went through a crystal store which was out of my comfort zone because I dont really believe in that and I was so about not being a non believe. Before we talk about the stores lets talk bout how all outside theres a line of homeless people, Atlanta has a problem with that but its okay., anyways, so either the homeless people are selling stuff or staring not a problem though, but anyways so most of them areselling crystals or smoking weed illegally doing card tricks for people its like Las Vegas strip for the needy. Anyways, I goo into the asecond store and I dont remember verbatim what the second store was so inn just gonna go off of what I remember. There was a medical marijuana store, a record store, a vintage thrift shop, a African store, and a store with a question mark on top of it with a sign on the door saying the hours are maybe this and maybe that and it was awesome to se that. I love this place, s after many many many pictures, I realize that I found my favorite record store and they sell a lot of comics here. Its time to go, I go to the car smoke that half a blunt as. I lose my way to the movie theatre. When I get to the movie theatre I realize this is my favorite movie theater because the shit they show is so fiucking underground but so fucking good. So I saw this movie called the killing of a sacred deer and its one of my favorites, its thriller like split and I realized those are my favorite movies. On to the next movie theater - yes next movie theatre -yes Im splurging- sue me. So its drive in first of all - second of all - I got in for free by going through the exit, the security was laid up against the ticket box looked me in the eye and i swear he shrugged, anyways I get in and find the station and boom im sitting there watching Boo 2! - good ass movie by the way, I LOVE MADEA FOR A REEASON SOME FUNNY ASS SHIT - by the way I bought some more blunts on the way to the second movie theatre at a gas station and heated up some ramen and popcorn - im set. So im high as shit laughing and killing the game with life. I leave hungry as shit and trying to finda place that doesnt cost to sleep. I find PONCE - a cool looking neighborhood thats modern, I look for a parking garage- gotta pay, neighborhood - shady, I finally go to this apt complex with a security camera but loose parkinhg, before I actually park, I go to find some food - =instantly I look up mcdonalds and go to just get some fries because aim on a budget. FUCKKK theres a local restraint HEL YEA BUDGET OUT THE FUCKING WINDOW, I go and its fucking awesome its called THE COOKOUT and I dont know if its just me being high or what but their food is fucking amazing. I order - burger, corn dog, fries and shake for like 7 bucks. I park in this drive in style parking lot set up the office and boom im in heaven once again. Doing what I want, then a guy passes by my car and open the door with one hand in his pocket - bitch im out -  no way am I gonna open a door with onehand in my pocket unless I have gun- later I discovered its pretty cold he has a reasonable reason but I couldn’t do it. So now im in the “home” lot nad eating watching thats 70s show cause I missed it and im on the last seaozon of the office - gotta calm down. I go to sleep after eating and boom a day was made.