#the urge to make a non-au one shot for them. Everyone is blind to how based this ship is/lh

[threepoint14art]

deuzaggie ill take you out of the pits of hell (no one makes content for them)

i like to give them matching bangs and i also like making Deuz huge (bear) U-U

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Seungkwan: Void (Part Three)

Characters: Seungkwan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, kinda fluff but not really?? idk nothing bad happens

Word count: 1,657

Summary: Seungkwan can’t resist the urge to go searching for the banshee any longer, but his trip into the woods has him coming face-to-face with a strange girl who doesn’t seem to remember anything about where she came from or how she got where she is. The only things she knows are the things the voices in her head that Seungkwan doesn’t know about tell her. And that strange girl is you, his mate.

a/n: sooooo i havent had time to work on more parts for seungkwan and i only have one more part completely written. so until i can write more parts, i��ll only be updating once a week and it’ll probably be on wednesdays

Previous | Next | Void Masterlist

After being brought up to Seungkwan’s room and speaking with Soomin, Jia, and Yeji -- the wolves could only hope one of those three would be able to make sense of everything -- you seemed much calmer. The three alphas went to check on you with Seungkwan, hoping to get some answers from you. All they knew was you were the banshee, and something about Joshua seemed to be the reason for your screaming.

“So,” Soonyoung began as he approached the small group with the alphas and Seungkwan flanking him, trying to keep his tone light, “care to explain?”

“She doesn’t just signal death,” Soomin explained, “she sometimes screams to block out the noise of this world to hear the voices on other planes.”

“Was that what that was?” Jihoon wondered.

"Yeah, we think so,” Jia confirmed. “She did say she’s been hearing one specific voice lately, and I think I can guess who it is.”

Soonyoung shook his head, trying to wrap his head around all this new information, “Hold on, so… What about the other times she’s screamed near the house? Is one of us going to die?”

“Not necessarily…” your voice was soft as you shrugged, seeming to shrink into Soomin’s side in the presence of the alphas. “It could be someone will die, it could be someone close to you will die, it could be that one of you will cause somebody to die, it might just be me trying to hear… I don’t know what it is, I’m…I’m sorry…”

Seungcheol sighed, “No, don’t be sorry, _____; it’s not your fault. Let’s just not worry about it for now. It’s _____’s first day with us and we should show her around and make her feel welcome.”

“I think you’ll like the gardens,” Seungkwan smiled at you before holding his hand out for you to take. “I’ll show you.”

-

Showing you the garden had somehow turned into a new activity. While you were inside, Jooyeon had gone outside with some of the wolves and was doing some target practice to pass time -- and because she felt there was too much commotion going on inside. The thief was excited to have a weapon in her hands and targets to throw knives and shoot things at. 

The other mates -- except Danbi who you still had yet to meet -- had gone outside with you and Seungkwan, followed by the alphas. Jooyeon noticed all of you and smiled brightly.

“Hey, wanna throw some knives?” she offered.

Jia was unable to participate since she was blind, and Soomin quickly but politely declined. So that left you, Yeji, and the thief to it.

“I used to be pretty decent with one of these when I was a human,” Yeji said as she grabbed a bow and an arrow from the grass. You watched her as she loaded the arrow before aiming your bow and staring at the poorly painted target on the tree ahead of her. “It was just for fun, though, and I wasn’t any good. I’m worse now.”

Her ears twitched slightly as she aimed before she released the string, sending the arrow flying toward the left of the center, but not too terribly far off. You heard a low whistle, but you weren’t sure who it came from. But you were sure impressed because Yeji seemed so cute and non-menacing. The fact she knew how to handle a bow and arrow even mildly was a little intimidating to you.

“I was never good with those kinds of weapons,” Jooyeon shrugged, slipping her pocket knife out of her pocket. “I’m more of a…knife or tomahawk or sword kind of gal.”

“Well, you are a thief,” Jeonghan snorted, watching the younger girl carefully. “It only makes sense you’re better at combat at close range.”

"I was explaining for _____’s sake,” she grimaced before sticking her tongue out at the wolf.

You smiled a little at the sentiment, liking that she thought to include you. You weren’t really sure how anybody in the pack felt about you now that they knew you were the banshee they’d been so terrified of, so this was definitely a step in the right direction.

Jooyeon walked over to stand where Yeji stood, so she stepped to the side to give her room. Jooyeon looked over at the target as Chan retrieved the arrow, using his speed to go back and forth.

“I’m definitely rusty,” the thief sighed.

Seungcheol whined softly from where he stood beside Jeonghan, “Please be careful, Jooyeon.”

Without even pointing the knife to line up the shot, she just threw it toward the trees. It missed the center by only a couple inches, but it still had the pack impressed. They had rarely seen  Jooyeon in action, so she wasn’t too surprised by their reactions. However, she was definitely flattered, a soft blush coming to her cheeks as she smiled to herself proudly.

“It’s been a while,” Jooyeon nodded, watching as the pup ran to retrieve the knife before handing it back to her with a smile.

“That was so cool!” he chirped excitedly. “Can you teach us to do that?”

Jooyeon shrugged, gesturing to the target with the tip of her knife, “Uh…I mean, you kinda just…throw it. It’s just a lot of practice, I guess.”

You were so wrapped up in everything happening that you didn’t notice how Seungkwan softly smiled at you, seeing how in awe you were at the mates’ skills. He also enjoyed how you seemed to fit right in as you observed quietly, not spacing out or standing off somewhere by yourself. He liked that you seemed to belong already.

“Somebody grab the ax from the shed!” Soonyoung ordered with a bright smile.

As Junhui went to go get it like asked, Seungcheol’s eyes went wide, and he growled in warning to the younger alpha, “What? No!”

“C’mon, it’s like a tomahawk, Cheol,” he scoffed. “She’ll be fine.”

“She could get hurt! We can toss it around like it’s nothing, but it’s heavy to her!”

Jun returned with the ax and handed it over to Jooyeon. The girl tested it’s weight with a frown, deciding it was definitely too heavy to throw. Immediately, Seungcheol grabbed the ax away from her, and pulled her to stand behind him. She huffed in reply but said nothing.

“You can’t give her an ax!” he said, tossing the weapon away like it weighed nothing.

“They just did,” Jihoon deadpanned.

“I’ll give it to Yeji and see how you like it!” Seungcheol shot back.

Nobody had noticed Chan go back inside the house until he returned with the kitchen knives in his hands. He dropped them on the ground near Jooyeon, and she smirked as you went to pick one up by the handle. The blade shone in the sunlight, as the expertly tossed it around to catch the handle once again. Then she looked over at you with a quirked brow.

“Wanna try?” she offered.

You weren’t sure what to do. Your first instinct was to look to Seungkwan, but he seemed a little apprehensive. But with good reason that you didn’t know about. You seemed so delicate to him that he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. You were also very spacey and he wasn’t sure how safe that was.

“It’s fine,” Jooyeon encouraged. “I guarantee there’s no way you can get hurt -- I mean, unless you hold the knife the wrong way.”

Slowly, you approached the girl and took the knife handle that she offered you. You looked down and studied it, weighing the weapon in your hand.

“You just…throw?” you asked, glancing up from the knife to the girl that was standing beside you.

She nodded, a friendly smile appearing on her face, “Yeah, just throw.”

You did as she had done earlier, looking toward your target before bringing your hand back over your shoulder before throwing the knife. It clanked against the tree before falling to the ground in front of it, and you laughed at yourself.

Seungkwan let out a breath he was apparently holding.

“God, you’re going to kill me with a heart attack,” he mumbled to himself, running his hands through his hair as Chan raced to get the knife.

Seungcheol looked over at Seungkwan with an amused smile, knowing the younger wolf finally felt just a taste of what it was like being Jooyeon’s mate.

“Blame fate, Kwannie,” he laughed.

“Fine, I’ll let you have a turn at heart palpitations,” Seungkwan sneered, watching the alpha’s grin turn into a glare before he turned to face you and Jooyeon. “Jooyeon, show us your skills some more. Didn’t you say before you could throw them really fast?”

“How about she doesn’t do that,” Seungcheol whined like a child as his mate picked up the knives by the handles one by one, placing them in her belt. “Stop listening to Seungkwan!”

"It’s fine,” she said with a laugh, stepping to stand where she had before. She stared at the ground. “Tell me when to go, Kwan.”

“Go.”

When Jooyeon looked up, her eyes were narrowed and determined, grabbing knives from her belt and throwing them one by one at the trees. The first one hit the target right in the center, the rest behind lodged into various trees at roughly the same spot. All you could do was watch in wonder, impressed by the thief’s skills.

Once she was fresh out of knives, she turned to look at you with a smile, hoping for praise.

“That was insane!” Yeji squealed, clapping her hands together.

“Whoa...” Junhui breathed, nodding slowly.

Jooyeon’s smile only widened at everyone’s compliments. But all you could do was stare at her in awe.

The pack was full of various kinds of people that didn’t really seem like they’d fit together, but they did. You decided the pack was interesting, and you liked them.

[spicykoreantatertots]

Peach (Lobotomy) - Part One

Pairing: Hoseok x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Rating: G

Genres: SFW, Soulmate AU, College AU, F2L, Angst, Fluff

Summary:  In a world where there is no limit to the number of possible soulmate connections, you've become obsessed with figuring out what yours will be. While walking to class one day, you find a ring on the ground. A ring that will finally lead you to your soulmate.

Warnings: this is only part one! this is slightly angsty, but there is fluff. 

A/N: Proud to be part of the Luv Library Collab! This is the first part of my first soulmate fic. Part two will be coming before the end of the month. I may also do a NSFW one shot later this year. I’m excited to continue working on my soulmate series (one for each member). They are all based on songs by Waterparks, check out Peach (Lobotomy). Big shout out to @megahwn and @joonkookiemonster​ for beta reading, @namluve​ for this beautiful banner, and to @ho-baebae​ and @lovely-literati​ for always being supportive. Love y’all! 💜

~~~~~~~

You've seen it happen a million times before. When someone meets their soulmate for the first time, it’s like watching magic happen. It's just a moment, a spark, and then that person's entire life changes.

There are countless types of soulmate connections out there. From color blindness and red threads to timers and birthmarks. Some people can write to their soulmate and the words will appear on their skin, no matter how far away they are. Some people can hear the thoughts of their soulmate or taste what they're tasting. It's exciting, waiting to meet that person who is everything you need. The person made just for you.

But it's terrifying for those who don't have an obvious connection to their soulmate. It's terrifying for people like you. You weren't born with a special mark, you weren't born with colorblindness or someone else's thoughts in your head. There's no obvious way for you to connect with and find your soulmate, and it often keeps you up at night worrying.

Being the optimistic person and hopeless romantic that you are, you've done your best to stay positive. You know that there is someone out there, there's someone for everyone. So you've spent the first 21 years of your life keeping your eyes wide open. Waiting for the sign, the connection.

When you were in high school, you were sure that your connection must be eye contact. You walked around constantly looking people in the eyes, probably looking like a psychopath

The summer before college, you spent the summer abroad in Spain. Part of you hoped you would meet some rugged Spaniard, but the other part of you knew that your Spanish was mediocre at best. 

Freshman year of college you had a persistent craving for pickles and you were sure that had something to do with finding your soulmate. But then you met Hoseok and he helped you figure out that you were just dehydrated and you needed electrolytes.

You actually met Hoseok in line at the dining hall. Your request for an entire bowl of pickles on the side disgusted him. He followed you to a table, confronting you about your strange eating habits.

“An entire bowl of pickles? That’s disgusting.” Hoseok joked. 

“Well I’ve been craving them non-stop. Hopefully this is my soulmate connection.” You replied as you sat at the last open table, trying to avoid touching the various sticky spots on the table. 

“You hope? As you don’t know what your soulmate connection is?” Hoseok questioned, mouth full of french fries. 

“No, not for sure. I don’t have a mark or anything.” And as if he could sense your dejectedness, he cheerily followed up by telling you that he doesn’t have an obvious connection either. Of course your mind immediately goes to the possibility that he is, in fact, your soulmate.

It doesn’t help that he is gorgeous. Dark hair, chiseled jaw, bright smile hidden behind soft lips. Lips that you really really want to kiss. 

Unfortunately Hoseok isn’t your soulmate. The two of you spent almost everyday together for the semester and no connection ever presented itself. Eventually the urge to kiss him dissipated (for the most part) and you gained a really great friend. Every time you feel miserably alone, he’s there to comfort you. He's been there for every missed connection, every failed attempt to find your soulmate.

There are still days that you wake up with The Feeling. The feeling that tells you it’s finally the day you’ll find your soulmate. And today just so happens to be one of those days. When you woke up, you didn't feel tired. You were able to get up and out of bed and ready for class in time to stop to get coffee for you and Hoseok. 

The Feeling leaves you on edge. You keep your phone in your pocket instead of scrolling through your daily rotation of socials. Making sure to keep a small smile on your lips, you try to make eye contact with as many people as you can.

Surely people think you are a crazy person, but you won't miss an opportunity to meet your soulmate for the first time. Unfortunately, none of the customers in the coffee shop or the Baristas are your soulmates. But that's okay! There is still plenty of time left in the day.

"Today's the day Hobi! I can feel it." Hoseok is leaning up against his car in the parking lot waiting for you as usual. The two of you have the same math class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday morning. 

"Yeah I'm pretty sure you said that about last Wednesday too." Hoseok playfully nudges you as he accepts the coffee you've brought for him.

"Okay yes, but I feel REALLY good about today. Maybe I've just been missing him by a few minutes." 

"I wish you weren't so obsessed with this, Y/N." Hoseok pauses, adjusting the strap of his backpack. "You always end up disappointed and I hate seeing you upset."

"Wow thanks for believing in me." You turn away from him and continue down the sidewalk path, rapidly approaching the Mathematics Building.

"It's not that I don't believe in YOU, I just hate watching you obsess over this, can't you just enjoy life and let your soulmate come to you?"

"LET MY SOULMATE COME TO ME? Hoseok didn't you hear about the girl who WAITED for her soulmate to find her and ended up finding him in a COMA? I CAN'T RISK IT!"

"Y/N you can't assume the worst just becau..." And you don't hear the end of whatever Hoseok was going to say. Because in that moment you see something shiny on the ground a few feet in front of you.

You jog ahead of Hoseok, and you see a gold ring abandoned on the sidewalk. You bend to pick it up. Hoseok has now caught up with you. He's trying to get your attention, but all you can focus on in this moment is the ring. You have the same giddy feeling you always do. Butterflies flitting around in your stomach. It’s your soulmate's ring, you're sure of it. 

"What is it Y/N?" Hoseok leans over your shoulder to see the ring you're turning over in your fingers. It's a fairly simple gold ring. There is a simple design carved around it and an inscription inside it. Two initials. You can feel your heart swell, your pulse begins to race.

"It's my soulmate's ring Hobi. I knew today was going to be a good day." You can read the skepticism in his frown and knitted brow. He doesn’t refute you though, maybe he can sense the certainty you’re feeling.

“We’re gonna be late for class.” He huffs, continuing down the path at a pace you struggle to keep up with. 

~~~~~~~

The lecture on Inverse Trigonometric Functions does not hold your attention very long. All you can really do is turn the ring over in your fingers imagining the man that it belongs to. He’s probably got dark hair, tan skin, glasses. He probably looks so sexy in glasses.

“So I guess you’ll be borrowing my notes later then?” Hoseok whispers and motions toward your blank notebook. “Of course, you’ve got something more important to do than take notes, don’t you?” 

“Yeah I’ve got to track down my soulmate.” As soon as you finish the thought, reality begins to sink in. “Hobi?” You whisper back at him, shoulders slumping. “How am I going to find him?”

Hoseok sighs, settles himself back into the seat, and continues taking notes. Absentmindedly, you pick up your pen and begin doodling the initials “JW”. Your pen traces over the letters, darkening them with each stroke. 

“We’ll find him.” Hoseok places his hand over yours, stopping the obsessive movements of your pen. When he pulls his hand back you look up at him. He’s looking forward, jaw clenched. And you know that just like every other time, with every other potential soulmate, he’s determined to help you. 

~~~~~~~

Hoseok asked you to sleep on it, give yourself some time to process before beginning the process of finding the owner of the ring. 

It was a nice idea, sleeping on it. But in practice it proved to be very difficult. After tossing and turning for half an hour you began mentally designing a Found: Gold Ring flyer in your head and planned where to put them up around campus.

Now your mind has wandered elsewhere. You find yourself browsing social media, looking at the University’s page. Scrolling through the followers and stopping at every J and W you find. 

You: I'm never going to find him. [4:12am]

You: Do you know how many JWs there are in this city? [4:12am]

You: And what if he's not even on social media? [4:16am]

Hoseok: Everyone is on social media. [4:18am]

You: Oh no did I wake you? [4:18am]

Hoseok: Yes. Please tell me you have not been awake all night. [4:18am]

You: I have not been awake all night. [4:19am]

You: 😬 [4:19am]

Hoseok: I have an idea. [4:20am]

You: 👀 [4:20am]

Hoseok: I have a friend who works as a student assistant in the registrar's office, maybe he can help us. Let's meet at 8 instead of 8:45 [4:23am]

You: okay 🥺 [4:24am]

~~~~~~~

"What do you mean "no," Namjoon?" Hoseok is standing at the front of Namjoon's desk.

"Hoseok I am not breaking FERPA for any reason." The blonde boy leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. Government policy prevents him from sharing student’s personal information, but this is bigger than the government. It’s fate, the Universe, call it what you want, but it’s more important than FERPA. 

"Namjoon, I need to find my soulmate, I have to track him down!" You're about to start crying, peering around Hoseok. You had only seen Namjoon once before at a party, he was drunkenly debating the finer details of Platonism with a girl who was clearly only interested in taking him upstairs.

“If I were to give you a list of all the names and phone numbers of students that go to this University, I could be fined thousands of dollars!” He uncrosses his arms and hits his hand on the desk to emphasize his point. 

That’s when you notice the timer on his wrist. Counting down to the moment he meets his soulmate. 

“Namjoon, look at the timer on your wrist. You know exactly when you are going to meet your soulmate. But I have nothing.” He looks down at his wrist, the timer silently ticks closer to zero. “I have no timer, no mark, no connection except maybe this stupid ring.”

You tug at the ring you placed on a chain around your neck for safe keeping. It shines under the fluorescent lighting. Namjoon looks at the ring then back at your face. You’re sure it’s blotchy and red, but you hope that he understands how important this is. 

“Can you help us Joon?” Hoseok asks, pulling a small flash drive from his coat pocket. The only response is a deep sigh, but Namjoon grabs the flash drive and quickly downloads the data. 

“If anyone finds out about this, I’m going to say you hacked into my computer.” Namjoon says, stopping short of handing the drive back to Hoseok.

“I owe you one.” Hoseok winks before he grabs the drive out of Namjoon’s hand.

Hoseok heads out into the hallway and you follow closely behind him, turning back to mouth a ‘thank you’ at Namjoon who responds with a curt nod. 

~~~~~~~

After a trip to the library and $25 worth of printing, the two of you are holed up in your apartment.  Take-out, two bottles of wine, and 250 pages of student names and phone numbers are set out on the coffee table, an R&B album playing on the stereo. Hoseok watches as you flip through the large stack of pages on the coffee table.

“Wait why did you print every name?” Hoseok wonders while he picks at the remains of the food in his container.

“You said it would be easier to have a hard copy.” You huff, dropping the pages on the floor in front of you. Hoseok can feel the frustration radiating off of you. 

“Yes, but maybe we should have sorted out the Js and Ws before printing...” He sets down his food and motions for you to hand him the pile. 

Hoseok begins thumbing through the pages, wondering to himself how long it will take to narrow down the pool of potential soulmates. He locates the Ws and sets the rest of the pages aside. 

“Here, let’s just start here and see what we can find.” He says, splitting the smaller stack in two and handing you half. Hoseok begins reading through each name on the page, pausing only to highlight a name or take a drink from his wine glass. 

After about half an hour, Hoseok has highlighted two dozen names on his portion of the list. You're huddled over the pages, flicking the corners of it absent-midnedly. He can tell that you’ve lost steam, possibly from the two very full glasses of wine you’ve had tonight. 

“Are you almost finished?” Hoseok sets his pages down on the floor next to him and leans his head back against the couch behind him. 

“Oh yeah I finished, I just wanted to go back through to be sure.” You lean back from your hunched over position and lay flat against the floor. 

“I’ve got about two dozen names, how many did you get?” Hoseok yawns and rubs his eyes.

“I found thirty.” You manage through a yawn of your own. It’s barely 9:00pm, but the mundane task of finding matching initials mixed with bellies full of take out and wine makes for a couple of very sleepy friends. 

There’s got to be something he can do to reenergize the two of you. He knows you’re excited to find your soulmate. But after being by your side through so many failed attempts in the past few years, he can tell you’re starting to feel discouraged. 

“Get up.” Hoseok says, an idea brewing in his mind. You look up at him, eyes narrowed. “Come on.” Hoseok gets up and moves to put himself toe to toe with you. He reaches into his pocket for his phone and scrolls through his playlist. 

An upbeat song begins playing through the speakers and Hoseok extends his hands out to you. He can tell you’re fighting a grin and that makes his own smile double in size. You finally give in and grab hold of his hands. Hoseok quickly pulls you up off the ground and twirls you around before letting go. 

“I’m not doing this Hobi.” You stand still, covering your face with your hands while the beat of the song fills up your small apartment. Hoseok’s body is moving to the music. He’s always been a dancer, effortlessly contorting his body, hitting each beat perfectly in time. 

Hoseok knows you aren’t a good dancer, but he loves seeing you try. Loves watching you be silly. So he reaches for your hand once again and pulls you toward him. He uses his hands to guide you, gently shaking you to loosen up your joints. Your awkward movements make him laugh, but he’s happy to see you smiling again. Swaying along to the music with you, Hoseok feels good. The stress of the day melting away. 

He twirls you away from his body as the song is ending, but instead of letting go he tugs on your arm, silently asking you to twirl back into his arms. You’re giggling when you fall back into his arms. His face is only inches away from yours and for the first time in a long time he finds himself wanting to close the distance. 

When the two of you first met, he felt a pull to you. At first he had hoped that you were his soulmate. You were beautiful, funny, silly, and just what he had been looking for. There was no magic moment between you though. No signal that your connection to him was meant to be something more than friendship. 

Before he can think too much about how your lips still look so soft, you pull away from him. Hoseok pauses to catch his breath, shaking his head to clear out the thoughts. 

“Okay I do feel better.” You announce, moving to the kitchen to pop the second bottle of wine. Hoseok sits down on the couch, picking up his laptop. He logs onto Facebook, trying to occupy his mind by searching for the first guy on with the initials J W. “Alright, this is it.”

“What is it exactly?” Hoseok replies, distracted by a video of goats screaming to the tune of Taylor Swift’s latest single. 

“We’re about to find my soulmate Hobi!” Your beaming smile is almost enough to quell the unsettled feeling growing in his gut. 

“Right, right. Here goes nothing.” Hoseok types the name of the first guy on his list and begins scrolling through his available pictures. He is scrutinizing the stranger, his clothes, the way he poses for the pictures. Soulmate or not, is this guy really good enough for you?

“What should the game plan be?” You say, almost startling Hoseok. “Should we just do a quick round looking for the ring in the pictures?” 

“Yes let’s do that, and then we can go back through if we don’t find the ring on anyone.” Hoseok nods moving to the next name on his list, silently hoping that he isn’t the one either. 

~~~~~~~

It was very easy for you to get distracted looking at these potential soulmates. Of course, based on their social media profiles it was also pretty easy to rule some people out. Several of the men had their soulmate’s in the profile pictures. Some had visible soulmate marks or timers in their photos. But there were still a large number of men who could be the one. And you took your time sizing each one up. 

Jason Williams is clearly athletic, plays for the university soccer team, and recently ran a marathon. It’s good for him, but you hope he won’t mind you sitting on the sidelines of the next marathon rather than participating. 

Jaylen Williams has no photos available for viewing, but it only takes three seconds on his profile to realize that his views on feminism leave much to be desired. 

Jesse Williams is a nerd, to put it lightly. His profile picture is a loveable picture of him dressed as Spiderman at last year’s comic con. Many of his posts are related to the Marvel Universe and you can tell that he takes it very seriously. According to his profile, he is studying physics. 

Joshua Wilson seems nice. He’s playing guitar in his profile picture. His beanie and flannel shirt make you wonder if he considers himself a hipster. His latest post is about the inadequate coffee served at the local cafe and how he should just do it at home. Maybe he makes a good cup of coffee, you could get into that. 

James Wilt is handsome. He’s hair smoothed perfectly back, facial hair trimmed neatly. Just as you’re about to scroll down to look at his posts, Hoseok interrupts you.

“Y/N?” He says quietly. “I think I’ve got him.” Your heart jumps into your throat. Setting the laptop down on the coffee table, you scoot over to look at Hoseok’s screen.

Jackson Wang. He’s gorgeous. And he’s clearly wearing the ring. 

“Hobi...” You don’t really know what to say, but he seems to understand. He puts his arm around you and slides his laptop from his lap to yours. You begin scrolling through and seeing pictures of him surrounded by friends, they look like fraternity brothers. It’s not quite what you were expecting out of a soulmate, but as you continue looking through his profile you learn that you are actually quite compatible. 

He has a similar taste in music, loves his family, he’s on the university fencing team, and he might love cheese even more than you do. 

“I... I don’t want to be the one to say it, but all we know for sure is that it’s his ring.” Hoseok says sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, but he’s right. Just because you had a feeling about it doesn't guarantee that Jackson is your soulmate.

“There’s only one way to find out.” You say handing Hoseok’s laptop back to him. 

“Right.” Hoseok nods before tilting his head. “Wait what?” 

“I’ll send him a friend request and I’m going to message him. I’ll have to meet him in person.” You say as you begin typing out a message on your computer. 

“You are NOT going to meet him in person Y/N. He’s a total stranger!”

“Hoseok he could be my soulmate!” You pleaded. There’s a long silence stretching between you. Hoseok is thinking, scanning your face. He’s spent the day helping you track him down and now suddenly he’s so concerned about you meeting him?

“I’ll go with you.” He mutters followed by a sigh of defeat. He sinks back into the couch as you finish typing out your message to Jackson and attach an image of the ring.

You: Hey, are you missing your ring? I found one that looks like it outside the Mathematics building. [9:13pm]

“And now we wait.” You sigh as you hit the send button. The tension between you and Hoseok is still palpable, but you reach for the remote to turn on the television. Luckily for you, Hoseok’s favorite movie is playing on one of the channels and it doesn’t take long for the tension to relax into a comfortable silence.

~~~~~~~

Hoseok wakes to a ping on your phone. The two of you had fallen asleep on the couch during the movie. The TV screen is now dark, credits slowly rolling through. Your phone is shining brightly from it’s spot on the coffee table. 

Against his better judgement, Hoseok reaches for your phone.

Facebook: Jackson Wang has accepted your friend request. [11:46pm]

Facebook Messenger: Yeah wow! I’ve been missing it! [11:48pm]

Hoseok sets your phone back down and looks over at you. You’re fast asleep, head resting on the arm of the couch. It’s getting late.

“Y/N.” He whispers, nudging your foot with his own. You don’t stir, so he decides to get up and carry you to your bed. He carefully pulls back the throw blanket that covers you and hooks his arms under your body. The walk to your bed is short, but he trips over a pair of your shoes, almost dropping you. How are you still asleep?

When he reaches your bed, he sets you down gently and pulls your quilt over your shoulders. He gazes down at you. Once again feeling the pull to your lips. He leans down, brushes a few stray hairs off of your forehead and lightly brushes his lips against the skin of your forehead.

A warm sensation, tingling in his lips, a shiver down his spine. Hoseok pulls away, wide eyes staring down at you. But you don’t wake up. Though he would swear that he saw a smile pulling at your lips as he slowly backed out of the room.

~~~~~~~

As you slept you dreamed about meeting your soulmate. The warm feeling radiated throughout your body, all was right in the world. And when you wake you are happy to see a response from Jackson.

Jackson: Yeah wow! I’ve been missing it! [11:48pm]

You: Okay, wanna grab coffee and I can give it to you then? [9:23am]

Jackson: Haha, sounds great. Maybe tomorrow around 10? [9:56am]

You: That’s perfect, you know The Bean just north of campus? [9:59am]

Jackson: Yes I love that place. [10:01am]

You: Okay great! [10:01am]

You: Kind of a random question... [10:17am]

Jackson: Shoot [10:23am]

You: Do you know what your soulmate connection is? [10:24am]

You: I’m only asking because I don’t know mine. [10:27am]

You: And I thought maybe... [10:27am]

Jackson: Do you think you finding my ring could be... our connection? [10:30am]

You: I had a really good feeling about it when I found it. [10:31am]

Jackson: I don’t know mine, so maybe this is it... [10:34am]

You: I guess we’ll find out tomorrow, right? [10:35am]

Jackson: It’s a date. [10:39am]

~~~~~~~

The Bean is bustling today. Lots of people in and out, dozens of students working on projects and papers, so Hoseok has to sit a few tables away from you. The smell of the freshly ground beans 

“I won’t be able to hear you that well.” He shouts across the cafe. 

You’re too nervous to respond with something other than a shrug of your shoulders. Fiddling with the hem of your dress, you watch the door carefully waiting for him to walk in. The latte in front of you is still steaming, too hot to drink. 

The bell above the door chimes, ringing out over the chatter that fills the coffee shop. And there he is. Jackson Wang. Walking toward you with a self-assured smile. 

“Hi.” You mumbled, standing from your seat to greet him. He’s glowing in front of you, he’s all you can see. Jackson opens his arms you fit perfectly in them. You can feel butterflies in your stomach. It’s not as strong as you expected the soulmate bond to be, but it’s there. 

“I guess this is yours.” You tug lightly on the ring you’ve been wearing around your neck. 

“Well maybe you should wear it for a little longer.” Jackson replies, motioning for you to have a seat. “If we’re soulmates, that is?”

“Did you feel it too?” You ask shyly, tucking your hair back behind your ear. Jackson nods and reaches out to grab your hand across the table. The Feeling is here, just like it was when you picked up the ring, and you never want it to go away.

~~~~~~~

Hoseok watches the two of you chat for over an hour. He sees the exaggerated reactions you give to whatever story Jackson’s telling you. Just by the way your face is lighting up, he can tell you’re already falling hard.

Thinking back to the night before, Hoseok questions what happened. Was it just the wine going to his head? The two of you had been friends for so long now that he assumed it couldn’t be possible that the two of you were soulmates. Surely any hidden connection you had would have been realized by now. Maybe he’s just feeling jealous that you’re finally meeting your soulmate and he’s still alone.

But that kiss was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Deep in his thoughts, Hoseok doesn’t notice when you and Jackson stand from the table and walk over to his.

“Hobi, this is Jackson.” Hoseok jerks his head upward, met with a confident smile from Jackson. Hoseok quickly stands and extends his hand. 

“I’m Hoseok, nice to meet you.” Jackson firmly shakes his hand. The two hold eye contact for just a little too long.

“She’s already told me so much about you. Thanks for helping her track me down.” Jackson chuckles. Hoseok looks over at you and notices that you are holding his other hand. 

“Thanks for helping me find my soulmate.” You chirp happily. Hoseok narrows his eyes, looking back and forth between you and Jackson. 

“Soulmates? Are you sure?” Hoseok questions you.

“Hoseok!” Your exclamation is accompanied by a slap on the arm. “Of course I’m sure!” You give a quick and embarrassed apology to Jackson.

The way you’re already clinging to Jackson makes Hoseok’s stomach twist. The look in your eye when you stare up at his face makes Hoseok want to shut his eyes. He can tell you’re smitten, but he’s got a bad feeling. Despite your obvious certainty that this is your soulmate, Hoseok can tell that something is just not right.

~~~~~~~

See you soon for Part 2! Comment to be added to the tag list! <3

Check out my Not Warriors Soulmate Series Masterlist!

[tae-cup]

Answer: Love Myself | The Pact (4) FINALE

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Summary: It was simple. If you weren’t married by 26, you’d get married to each other. Well, it was supposed to be simple.

Warnings: N/A

Genre: ANGST, Fluff???, Non-Idol!Au, Business!Au-ish

Word Count: 2.4k Words

A/N: Thank you for sticking around to read this series. The support was absolutely amazing and I hope you enjoy this last part! Stay safe everyone and remember to love yourself. 

Other:

Series Masterlist

Normal Masterlist

         A meaningless exchange of words. That’s all this was. Jennie was sitting across from you at the park, Taehyung next to her. His arm was wrapped protectively around her shoulder. You resisted the urge to graze your shoulder with your hand; if only to mimic the contact. 

“So I said to her, ‘Miss, you have a little something right here.’” He pointed to his cheek. “But-”

       Jennie cut in, finishing the story she’d heard a million times before. “-But then she stared incredulously at him and pointed to his hair, which was also covered in the dye.” She chuckled as Taehyung looked shocked. 

“You remembered that story?!” He cried. 

“Of course I did, silly.” The girl poked his cheek. You smiled at them, they looked like they got along better now. Maybe this was how it always was before you came around. 

“I wish you would have told me that before I repeated myself a thousand times.” He grumbled, playing with her hair in his fingers. 

       You were happy for them. Truly happy. Taehyung glanced at you, something in his eyes wavering. His gaze flicked between the two of you, but only one was sitting under his arm, beside him. Jennie and you had found a way to get along somehow in the past few days and you could tell Taehyung was happy you were friends now. 

“Ah, I remember those color wars.” You added, trying to find some way to contribute to the banter. Instead, it did the opposite. The two were obviously pulled away from their little world and you cursed yourself for interrupting. The relationship between you and the two of them would have been normal if it wasn’t for that pact. 

“Right, because you always lost.” Taehyung teased, a small smile on his face. Even Jennie shot you a smile. It felt more sympathetic, maybe pitying, than genuine. It made your face heat up. Desperate for love and attention, yes, but you weren’t one for going after something you couldn’t have. 

“Yah! That’s a bit harsh.” You cried. Taehyung laughed loudly, hand rubbing Jennie’s arm. “I think I won color wars at least once.” You pouted. 

“At my school, the same grade always won the dye round because the student council favored them.” Jennie rolled her eyes. “We never got as much dye as them.”

“Or maybe you were just bad at conserving the dye.” Taehyung chided, booping her nose. Her features twisted to a frown, eyes looking up at him. 

“How dare you accuse me of such an atrocity! I blame the system!” Jennie declared. The two giggle. You’re happy for them. You’re happy for Taehyung. No matter how much you long for his touch, or anyone’s touch in fact. This outing was overshadowed by the bitterness approaching around the corner. Tomorrow. Tomorrow The Pact’s anniversary would take place and you were sure he had dropped it by now. You and Jennie had come to a conclusion, but it was clear Taehyung had not. 

         Taehyung watched you carefully out of the corner of his eyes. You looked much more confident than when you first met. You had grown into a beautiful and charming woman. He wanted to want you, but his heart beat with another. Still, he was a man of his word. He would propose to you. That’s what you wanted, right? If you had asked him if he wanted to marry you a week ago, he would have said yes. But things had been getting better between Jennie and him. He was torn. 

         He was noticing things about Jennie that he’d been blind to before. Her smile, how she waited for him when he got home from work, the way she caressed his cheek. How painful it must have been to see him slipping away. Two years. He looked over to the woman beside him. He had been with her for two years, that must mean something. Maybe it took you blatantly rejecting him for him to get his head out of his ass. He chuckled at the thought, to the confusion of the two women in his company. They were blissfully unaware of his inner struggle. 

         Is this the right decision? You found yourself thinking. You could still get lost in his gaze, you could still long for his fingertips against your skin, but it was different. Your heart didn’t flutter seeing him. You found yourself becoming truly happy for him, pushing away jealousy and resentment. You could forgive him for those words 10 years ago. A smart girl like you shouldn’t have agreed to such a foolish thing. Now you found yourself smiling at the words. They felt like a distant dream. You watched the two snuggle close and you couldn’t help thinking that they fit each other perfectly, like puzzle pieces. Why would you even dream of ripping them apart?

       The day had come. Taehyung had invited you out and you stood at the curb outside your apartment, waiting. Your heart was beating, but not out of nerves. No, you were actually feeling ill. You didn’t want to go through with this. When you had asked him where you were going, he had winked and said ‘it’s a surprise’. 

        You froze as he pulled up to the curb. It was just him, his car, and a nice suit. You gulped, glancing down at your attire. With a deep breath, you knew what you needed to do. You smiled and walked to his car. He jumped out and rushed to the other side, opening the door for you. The warmth of his hand on your back made you shiver as he helped you in. 

“Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it.” He rambled as he drove. 

“Hah, well, I didn’t have much else to do.” Your eyes flickered over to him for a moment before looking back out at the streetlights that whizzed by. In truth, you had cleared your schedule for this day ages ago. However, you had expected the day to be joyous.

     Now, you had a pit of guilt in your gut. You have to go through with it. He seems so excited, Y/N. Then you remembered your words to Jennie. I won’t take him away from you. You swallowed thickly as you pulled up to your old school. Your mouth went dry. You knew what he was doing and you almost didn’t need him to lead you around the side and to the gardens. 

     Your school was always nicer than most. You recognized the faded classroom numbers and pristine halls. In the back was a small garden and in that small garden was a grove. In that grove was a stone bench and a cherry tree. He took your hand, swinging it as if you were a couple. 

“You recognize this place, right?” 

    You nodded slowly, gnawing at your bottom lip. Regret filled you to the brim. 

“This is the place where we-” You cut yourself off, not wanting to finish the sentence. He looked hesitantly at you before nodding. 

“Yeah…” He looked over at the bench. You could see it clear as day. Your 15 year old self sitting next to him, a laptop in hand. You’re laughing, he’s smiling. It’s happy. Then you’re brought to the present. You stood side by side, not a couple, but soon to be engaged. 

“It’s been a while.” You murmured. “Listen I-” You turned to him but he grasped both of your hands, making your heart stop. He still had that effect on you. You could almost lose yourself in this moment, pretend he was yours, that you could kiss those lips, hold these hands, without guilt. 

      He took a deep breath and you trail off, not wanting to interrupt him. Was he going to go through with this? His gaze seemed distant and his brow furrowed for a moment, as if having an internal war. Finally, he stepped back. 

“Y/N. I have loved you for 10 years. 10 years and I haven’t stopped. You and I are right for each other.” Despite his words, He looked so uncertain, unlike the dead gaze he gave you in the library. That night seemed like it was ages ago. You wanted to stop him, to tell him this was a mistake, but he continued. “Let’s make good on this pact, love.” 

      He reached into his suit pocket and opened the velvet ring box and bent on one knee. 

“Will you marry me?”

           You walked down the aisle, a pretty arrangement of flowers in your hands, Jennie had helped you pick them out and you had been surprised by her generosity. You looked beautiful, hair in an updo, arm linked with a man. You smiled at Taehyung and he gazed back at you. You were sure you could see him tear up, but you played it off as the lighting. You nodded reassuringly at him, then you looked up at the high arching ceiling. The wedding bells chimed. Friends and family surrounded you. But they weren’t your friends and family. You took a right. The man holding your arm wasn’t your father and your father wasn’t here to give you away. 

         You part ways with the groomsman and take your place across the way from Taehyung. He didn’t spare you a glance, instead looking eagerly from where you came from. Then you turn, taking a deep breath, to watch the bride walk down the aisle. All rise. You smiled genuinely at Jennie. She looked overjoyed, even her father didn’t seem that bothered. 

        Watching Taehyung be truly happy had been the most fulfilling thing you’d watched in a while. Your heart tugged painfully as the two exchanged their vows, but you still cried with joy when they kissed. Moving on had been hard, but we all grow up someday. Taehyung peered over the bride’s shoulder as the crowd cheered. He winked and then held Jennie’s hand, giving her a look of unadulterated love. 

One month ago

“No.” 

       He quirked his head to the side, confusion flashing across his face. He didn’t rise, as if staying on one knee could convince you more. You smiled softly and stepped forward, falling to your knees in front of him and taking his hands in yours. You gently caressed his hands and closed the box. 

“This is meant for someone else, Taehyung.”

“W-who?”

“You know who.” Your voice is gentle, aching to take him in your arms, to scream yes. One tear. Then another. You watched him slowly unravel in front of you.  

“Y/N, I’ve loved you so long. I just hoped you would love me the same way, but when we met, I knew, I knew you had changed. I have changed. And I missed her, Y/N. She was right in front of me. I was so caught up in you, Y/N.” 

    �� You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing. Your hands fell into your lap, feeling remorseful, but you also had the urge to make things right.

“I love you, but...but I love her more than just a friend. And I don’t want to lose her.” He confessed.

       Your heart broke, only focused on this man, Taehyung, your best friend, sobbing in front of you. You threw your arms around him, hugging him tightly, letting his tears stain your dress. You rubbed his back, then pulled away once his tears had subsided to sniffles. You looked him the eye, determination coloring your face. 

“Then go to her.”

Present

           You stood in front of the mirror. Your eyes ran over your bug bites scars, skin discoloration, body fat. With a smile, you found yourself rubbing over your features gladly. This was you. This was who you were, this body, this skin, this face. You no longer scrutinized yourself, instead finding yourself loving the person in front of you. She was confident, sure of herself, and...and she loved herself. You stared. Was this really you? 

          You had been waiting for so long, just praying for someone to complete you, to love the faults in yourself. You had been waiting for yourself. You were the missing piece. After all, how can you love someone else if you can’t love yourself?  

           A grin broke out onto your face and you were sure if anyone else was here you would seem like a maniac. You hugged your arms, complimenting your appearance. Those scars were yours. That discoloration showed you spent time outside, enjoying your life. The fat meant you ate well, that you were healthy. Acceptance felt nice. 

         You brushed your hands through your hair, trying to contain the frizz that came with humidity combined with wind. The wedding was certainly taking place on a hot night. You could feel yourself sweating as you stepped out of the bathroom. 

“Y/N!” Jennie shouted, immediately noticing you. She drew you into a hug. “I’m so grateful to you. You know, you came at just the right time.” The two of you weren’t worried about talking about what happened, now it was more of a joke. 

          You were basically inseparable now, becoming close friends with the couple. It was silly to think you ever had a feud as heated as it seemed. Taehyung had laughed and told you guys that he had always thought the feud was unnecessary. That had earned two wary stares from the both of you. ‘You can’t blame me! You had me worried there for a bit.’ Jennie had pouted, earning a kiss from Taehyung and a laugh from you. 

“Ah, it’s no problem, call it fate.” You winked. 

“I mean, I spent so much time thinking I was being a fool for loving him, knowing he must love someone else.” She rambled and her eyes fell ever so slightly. You brushed your fingers under her chin, making her look up from her downcast eyes on the floor. 

“A bride shouldn’t look so down on her wedding day. And you were never foolish for thinking that. A smart girl doesn’t do foolish things, love.” You smiled at her. 

       You watched her eyes brighten and she rushed off to talk to her other friends. Your eyes slid over to Taehyung, sitting alone at the wedding table. You missed his smile. You missed his eyes. But you knew that this was right. Your phone buzzed in your pocket. 

Movie night, next Saturday? - Taehyung

You chuckled, making eye contact with him.

Pay attention to your wife.

But She’s busy with her friends and I’m alone at the wedding table.

Yeah?

       You saw him scoff, almost heard it too. You had heard his voice so many times, it didn’t matter that the music was pounding in your ears.

So is it a deal?

      You rolled your eyes, suddenly reminded of when you first made the pact. Deal? Deal. A shaking of hands. Now you looked up at him, a small smile on your face. 

Deal

Curtain fall, end scene. 

Taglist: @tangledsparkles​  @rjsmochii @bonnyskies @imluckybitches​

A/N: Thank you for sticking around! Love yourself!!

[abeautifulblog]

12 and 6 for the writing asks?

Yassssss~

12) My favorite place to write is our courtyard patio:

We live in the literal desert, so it gets too hot to be out there during the afternoon, but it’s lovely in the mornings and the evenings, and I’ve got my chair set up with a little rolling desk I built for my laptop. It’s also enclosed, so it’s safe for my blind & stupid cat  to come enjoy the outdoors with me. (No really, I love her but she’s an idiot and also completely blind.)

(And yes, I gave Gene my own hobby when I wrote him as a gardener.)

*

6) Hardest story to write: haaah, I think you guys can probably guess the answer to this, based on which installments took the longest to get out – “Bodies in the Lake” and “Love Like Light.” And the common denominator there was making those nerds bone.

So yeah, now that I can finally talk about what was going on behind the scenes – why did those take so long?

Part of it was just that as the fic came to an end, there were fewer things left to write, so if I got stuck on one thing, there was really nothing else for me to work on in the mean time. “The Old College Try,” for instance, had been in the works since “This House,” but when I was blocked on it, I could put it on the backburner and write six billion remixes of the bake sale instead.

So after the Thanksgiving chapter, when they finally clear the air about Robert’s mental illness, the next item to check off the list was “nerds get sum fuk” – and I really thought they were ready to get down to it. I was planning a comedy romp at a bigfoot-themed ski lodge that would end with them hopping in the sack. I thought their issues were resolved already.

And then it just.

Wasn’t.

Happening.

Was the setting wrong? I’d chosen to put them on holiday as way to shake up the scenery, get them out of their usual (sexless) routine and perhaps embolden them to try something new. Should I have left them at Gene’s house, where Robert feels safe and comfortable? But then what’s the catalyst that makes them do it NOW, when they haven’t done it BEFORE? What makes Robert decide that now is the “right time”? How do I signal to the readers that it’s okay for them to have sex now, when earlier (like in “Ghosts in the Attic”) it would have been disastrous?

But yeah, I had been trying to make them fuck since chapter 18. It’s why that chapter is shot through with sex, why Robert has a boner for basically the entire first half – and not in the freaky-dissonant way that he did in “Ghosts in the Attic,” but as a natural, healthy reaction to his beloved boyfriend rubbing up on him in slinky yoga pants. It was to telegraph that sex is on the agenda, so that it wouldn’t be coming out of left field when they consummated at the end of the chapter.

It’s why the working title for “Bodies in the Lake” was sex_happens.doc – until it became clear that sex wasn’t going to happen. That the issues raised in “Ghosts in the Attic” were still completely unresolved. Indeed, Gene still didn’t even know those issues existed.

Gene is very good at handling Robert’s crises when it’s something he’s been through before with Alex – but when Robert steps off-script, Gene’s suddenly winging it, and it shows. Alex had a lot of sexual partners in the past too – as people who are outgoing and bisexual and dtf often do – but he never did Robert’s brand of self-destructive, self-loathing promiscuity, and so Gene has no understanding of the psychology behind that behavior, or why it’s different from Alex’s form of slutting around.

And then Mary was supposed to just smack some sense into him and shove him back into Gene’s loving arms, but holy shit, did that conversation get derailed. And as an author, when a character looks you in the eye and says, It’s time to talk about this, you let them talk.

That was when my housemate-beta, who’d been there for all my agonizing over how to make them fuck, said, “You have to break this up into two chapters. This conversation here, it’s the emotional climax.” And she was absolutely right, but that’s why the sex got delayed another year. 😫

(I had not, going into that chapter, intended for them to have that conversation. I thought I was showing their character growth in the gym scene at the beginning, which features a number of deliberate callbacks to the first chapter except for all the ways that they’re healthier now, drinking smoothies instead of mimosas and actually TALKING about feelings. I had not realized they were going to DOUBLE THE FUCK DOWN on character growth later.)

So that was “Bodies in the Lake” finally out, after only eleven months (and I do consider that chapter a conscious bookend to “Ghosts in the Attic”), but I still had yet to make them fuck.

(I feel like some exotic zookeeper – like, I have created the perfect conditions for you, have I not, so why won’t you two just fuck already??)

Because it’s not just about being horny and wanting to get their rocks off (anyone with a sex drive knows how to take care of that on their own), it’s about the profoundly intimate connection that sex can be for sexual people. (The misunderstanding around this is something I find distressing in asexual discourse, when it reduces sex to a one-dimensional, even selfish, urge. I understand that not everyone experiences sex the same way, but there’s nothing selfish about wanting to feel that kind of connection with your partner.)

Not to mention that the hard ban on sex would inhibit other forms of intimacy too – that Robert can’t do ANYTHING without part of his brain keeping track of whether it’s okay or not, worrying how far is too far, knowing that there’s a stopping point coming up. It feels analogous to how queer celebrities, before they come out, seem to have almost no public personality whatsoever – Anderson Cooper and Kristin Stewart are the ones who come to mind here – because they’re having to police themselves so stringently lest anything ‘kinda gay’ slip out, that they wind up clamping down on themselves far beyond that. (And then when they do come out and are free to be themselves, it turns out they’re smart and snarky and all-around cool people!) I feel like after the sex barrier’s been broken, Robert would become a lot more relaxed and uninhibited with non-sexual intimacy too.

I’d had the first half of that chapter written for ages – the conversation after Robert comes back to the house and he explains that period of his life to Gene – but I couldn’t seem to give them that final push. I made a lot of attempts, tweaking my approach in subtle ways, but nothing quite rang true.

It was my friend Sam (dude who wrote the Craig fic) who finally said, They need to fight.

(And also that Gene needed to get pushed off his pedestal – “Because I have BEEN that endlessly patient and supportive boyfriend, and it gets old.”)

And as soon as he said it, I realized he was right – I’d done the thing, the thing that every guide on writing sex tells you not to do, which is to neatly wrap up all the characters’ interpersonal issues and tie them off with a bow and then let them fall into bed. It’s what feels logical, but it is death to drama, because then there’s no tension, and no reason for the reader to pay attention during the sex scene that follows, because there’s nothing going to be accomplished in it.

…Buuuut, when I’d spent 100k words writing a love story about careful consent, and a protagonist who doesn’t have a good handle on his own desires, there was no way for me to let them barrel through sex on a full head of passion and talk about it afterwards. It’s why they had to stop halfway through and dial it back a bit, touch base and explicitly confirm that yes, I want to proceed, bring them back from the edge for a while so it clearly wasn’t just their downstairs brains doing the decision-making.

The result is that it’s not as sexy as I might have hoped for, and while I’m a little disappointed about that, it’s checked by the knowledge that – realistically – there’s no way it could have been. Scorching hot sex requires the participants to be uninhibited, and Robert and Gene can’t afford to throw caution to the wind when they’re venturing into a known minefield. They’ll be able to relax into it later, for sure, but for their first time, they had to be mindful and deliberate about it.

(And also hearkening back to a thought Robert had in “Ghosts in the Attic,” that he wanted to make Gene smile and laugh during sex. In essence, that his vision for them, what he wanted out of sex, was more for it to be intimate than for it to be hawt.

Ah well. Stay tuned for the hookup AU – basically, all the scorching-hot sex they weren’t having in Beautiful Day wound up in the hookup AU instead)

So yeah, getting them to bone was definitely the hardest part of this fic. There were so many factors involved thanks to Robert’s various issues, that required a lot of careful calibration – and in the end, he still had to take a leap of faith. And while it’s not my favorite part of the fic, now that it’s done I can get on with finishing the rest of it. The final chapter doesn’t have anything really fraught (that hasn’t already been written), so I’m optimistic that it’s not going to give me as much trouble as the previous two chapters.

[aswellingstorm]

eyes wide open

summary: “when you can’t sleep, your soul mate can’t either. so the next time you’re laying awake, know that somewhere, someone else is laying awake too.”

an au where once you turn 17, you can’t get a wink of sleep unless you’re with your soulmate. the system is pretty flawed, so jughead jones is adamant that there’s no way on earth he’s lucky enough to have betty cooper as his soulmate.

read on ao3

Jughead Jones had been in love with Betty Cooper for as long as he could remember. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment that he realized it was love, all he can recall is that for the majority of his emotionally traumatizing, fucked up life there was a bounding light of pink pastels and hair that smelled like strawberries that anchored him--preventing him from ever going off the edge of existence.

He was more than content to stuff his feelings down and never look them quite in the eye. He knew he had to repress whatever it was that he felt, because Betty Cooper would never love him back. She was head over heels for the one and only Archie Andrews. Captain of the football team up and coming vocal artist-Jughead didn’t blame her. He was happy for her, he prayed Archie would give her the time of day and love her the way she deserved to be loved.

Archie never seemed to reciprocate but, Jughead rationed, it was just because he was too dumb to notice. 

Either way, Jughead could live a life of silently being in love with the girl who was in love with his best friend. He figured eventually he’d get over the intoxicating, bubbly blonde once he met his soulmate. he knew he didn’t have a chance with betty, but he still had a glimmer of hope for his future-one where he’d have a soulmate who could love him back.

That was all shot to hell when, after being the last of his friends to turn seventeen, he realized who his soulmate is. Everyone learns at different times, no one quite knowing for sure who their soulmate is until they lay side by side at night for the first time. 

The fateful night he was crashing at Archie’s when the latter invited Betty over for some ‘studying’. It was really a lame excuse for the three of them to hang out together, an idea that Archie ambushed Jughead with last minute. Truthfully, Jughead had been actively avoiding being in the same room as the two of them ever since he realized how deep he was in it for Betty. He couldn’t torture himself by forcing himself to watch Betty fawn all over Archie, but to his closest pals, it just seemed like he was being distant for no plausible reason. 

Everything was going fine until Archie got a message on his phone, a rather secretive one, that caused him to jump up and dart out of the room like a bat out of hell. He muttered something about being back in twenty minutes, but neither Betty nor Jughead quite believed him. Betty watched him go with sad eyes before getting off Archie’s bed and plopping down next to Jughead on his air mattress.

“Satan’s mistress beckons,” Jughead joked, hoping to ease some of the sadness in her eyes. In explicably, he began to feel a bit drowsy.

“Why does he have to lie to us,” Betty huffed, leaning back against the army of pillows Jughead lined up against the wall. “If he’s going to see Veronica, why doesn’t he just say so?”

Jughead wanted to point out that Archie keeps it a secret, or at least tries to, so he won’t break Betty’s heart. But he doesn’t, because he knows it’d only upset her further.

“Archie’s not exactly the brightest bulb in the box.” He was reclining comfortably against the wall of pillows, perhaps too comfortably because he felt if he blinked for too long, he wouldn’t open his eyes for another eight hours.

He swore he could feel his heart stop when Betty leans his head on his shoulder, bodies inches away to the point where they’re borderline cuddling. He urged himself to keep it cool and bring his pulse back to a normal rate when Betty asked, “Do you think they’re soulmates, Jug?”

Jughead knows his odds. He knows his own luck. He knows that Betty and Archie are picture perfect, a classic boy meets girl love story. He knows with every fiber of his being that it’s Betty and Archie who are soulmates. He thought he should comfort her by telling her that, but he can’t bring himself to admit it. Because a part of him still selfishly holds out hope for himself, and if he were to say that Betty and Archie were soulmates out loud, it’d make it all too real.

Instead, he lightened the mood with a joke. “Well, there’s only one way to know for sure,” he looked at her very seriously, “And that’s not the kind of sleeping together that Archie and Veronica are interested in at this given moment-ow!”

She pinched him playfully and they both laughed a bit before she exhaled, “I’m serious Jughead.”

Before he could really stop himself or think better of it, he turned to face her. Their eyes met one another as he said, “I think…I think Archie’s too blind to see what’s right in front of him.”

In the many days to come where he’d rake over every detail of this night, he might deny the way her eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips. He’d swear he was just fooling himself, but Betty shifted a bit closer with her gaze fixed on him.

He couldn’t bear to let this continue, just to have it abruptly end and ultimately crush him. So he awkwardly cleared his throat, “I mean, seriously, remember when he tried to drink Elmer’s glue thinking it was milk?”

Betty giggled, pulling back a bit as she laughed and the moment was gone. “That was in kindergarten, Jug!”

“Pft,” he snorted, “Just the other week he told me he thought artichokes were a type of fish!”

She leaned back on him once again, providing a warmth he didn’t realize he was missing. His thoughts were getting hazier, and wow he didn’t remember feeling this tired before…

They stayed like that for quite some time, swapping stories that primarily poked fun at Archie. It was all in good fun, and while Jughead knew he couldn’t ever be enough for Betty, at least he could put a smile on her face…and was good enough for him.

He didn’t even remember falling asleep. It just happened, the best sleep he had ever gotten. It overcame him like a wave, engulfing him in a sleepy, warm haze. He couldn’t recall what he dreamt about either, too wrapped up in his feelings of pure content.

What he does remember is waking up the next morning with sunlight filtering through the window, illuminating soft lazy specks of dusk. His position had changed, he was laying flat on the air mattress and, wow was there a blanket tucked around him? Betty must’ve done that-

Shit. Betty. He sat up abruptly, or at least tried to, but Betty had tucked the blanket around him with apparent superhuman strength and he flailed a bit awkwardly at first. He blinked, looking around the room with fervor, but only found Archie judging him curiously from the bed.

“Bad dream, Jug?” he asked with a sleepy yawn.

“Where’s Betty?” Jughead’s voice was still thick with sleep.

Fred Andrews walked by the doorway just then, “Morning boys,” he shot Archie a knowing look to which the boy responded by looking at the ground sheepishly. “To answer your question Jug, after I realized Archie snuck out last night, I came up here to find you and Betty passed out on the air mattress.”

Jughead’s eyes widened and he felt his face heat up. “I woke her up and sent her home before I had Alice Cooper at my front door waving a shot gun in my face…but you were conked out pretty hard kid.”

Dumbstruck, all Jughead could say was, “Oh.”

Fred chuckled to himself, “I mean, you must’ve been exhausted Jughead. I’ve never seen anyone passed out like that ‘til they meet their soulmate.”

It was just a joke. One that both Archie and Fred passed by pretty quickly as Archie asked what was for breakfast. Neither of them focused on what was said-both knowing how it was too absurd to be true. Both of them knowing how obvious it was that Betty and Archie were soulmates, not Betty and Jughead. They breezed past the topic quickly, not thinking much of it.

Jughead, however, was a different story. He felt the world stop around him. He’d heard stories of people finding their soulmates or realizing their partner was their soulmate. He knew the tales, the most common question he had as a child was, “How do you know? What makes sleeping next to your soulmate different than…any other sleep?”

The response to his question was always the same. “You just know.”

As Jughead glanced behind his shoulder, looking out Archie’s window and at Betty’s across the way, god dammit he just knew.

Not only was he in love with Betty, but she was his soulmate. A part of him scoffed because, wasn’t it typical? He’d always have the worst luck in the world.

--

It was confirmed when he tried to fall asleep that night and found himself tossing and turning for hours. Insomnia wasn’t something new to him, but soulmate induced insomnia…that was a different story entirely. He was frustrated, mad at himself, mad at the world, mad at fate. He felt lonely too, like he was missing something. Knowing what that something was pissed him off too.

So he did his research, and Jughead Jones was nothing if not thorough. He calculated his odds of having a non-reciprocal soulmate. Google was his new best friend (but if he was being honest, when wasn’t google his best friend?) and he discovered that the whole system of soulmates was…pretty much bullshit.

So many people had soulmates that had other people as soulmates, some people never had soulmates in the first place. Some people never felt soulmate insomnia, so they’d never know who their soulmate was. Some people staved off their whole soulmate insomnia with chamomile tea and melatonin…. the system was pretty flawed. Jughead was nothing if not a pessimist, so he wound up concluding that he was one of those. Someone who’s soulmate didn’t reciprocate. In his mind, he was better off having no soulmate at all.

Couldn’t this one thing just work out for him? It was bad enough he was in love with Betty, but he always relied on the fact that he’d at least get over her and be with his soulmate someday…another dream crushed. If he was lucky, he’d get stuck in some loveless marriage with someone else who was in the same boat as him.

He remained sleepless for a few days, every day dismaying as Betty walked into school as pink and perky as ever before, a telltale sign that she was having a good night’s rest. More confirmation that he couldn’t be her soulmate, if he was then she certainly wouldn’t be so well rested. She hadn’t even mentioned that night, at all. If she was his soulmate, wouldn’t she have felt the same even if Fred woke her up?

He even decided to put it to the test one day. As she strolled into school with the usual pep in her step and ponytail bouncing behind her he baited, “How many cups of coffee did you have today?”

Betty smiled brightly at him, “My mom still won’t let me drink coffee Jug, you know that! I just slept really well, that’s all.”

He nodded slowly, “Of course, Betts, gotta get that REM cycle and all.” She laughed before Archie and Veronica walked over.

He excused himself hurriedly, walking away too quickly. He was a fool for even hoping. Betty probably slept so well because Archie was what, 20 feet away from her in the house next door? He wasn’t sure what the exact radius (if there even was one) for being close next to your soulmate while you slept but maybe Archie being so nearby is what helped her sleep. Or maybe they discovered they were soulmates and crept into each other’s rooms…

Either way, Jughead quadrupled his efforts in avoiding both Betty and Archie. If he was ever going to get over the fact that he couldn’t be to Betty what Betty was to him…he needed to lay low. He just needed to survive the rest of the year graduate, get the hell out of town, go to some college far away from the both of them and maybe if he was lucky, one day they wouldn’t be more than a ghost of a thought in the back of his brain.

So Jughead slowly began to pull himself out of their lives. He sat in the back of the classroom during the classes they shared far away from where they were sitting, ate his lunch in the corner of the library, and never responded to their texts. He kept his headphones on at all times in the hallway and pretended he didn’t hear them when they walked up to talk to him. They got the message within a few days.

And it hurt like hell. Archie was his best friend, after all. And maybe Jughead was being a douchebag, he should be happy for Archie, relieved that his best friend had such an awesome soulmate…but he couldn’t stifle his own feelings of jealousy. He was being selfish, and watching the hurt look in Betty’s eyes whenever he walked past her only wound up breaking his own heart.

It didn’t help that he wasn’t sleeping for more than half an hour every night. His body would more or less collapse from exhaustion, his mind shutting off for just thirty minutes. He missed Betty, missed the way she’d be the only one laughing at his jokes when the gang shared a booth at Pops, how she organized her pens on her desk in color order, the way he eye brows drew together when she was really focused on something…

He spent the hours he couldn’t sleep thinking about her and he hated himself for it, knowing he was only making matters worse for himself. But he just couldn’t get her out of his head. The lack of sleep made him extra irritable. Dark circles, bags, they all made themselves a permanent home under his eyes. He was having trouble paying attention in class too, a few teachers even called him out on it. He was tired all the time and had no energy to do anything outside of dragging himself to and from school.

With a heavy sigh, he walked through the doors of Riverdale High. The lights were disorienting and while he heard his fellow peers chatting in the hallway, all of their voice seemed to blur and mesh together. He felt like was going to be sick.

Everything came into focus and he became suddenly hyper-aware of everything when Betty, the source of all of his current problems, stepped directly in front of him. She blocked his path and looked rather upset with him. In a ballsy move, she reached up and tugged his headphones down to lay on his neck.

“Betty? What are you doing?” He was confused, and after his vision cleared, he felt himself feeling more tired than he had in the past week. He tried to focus on her, but found it increasingly difficult.

“What’s been going on with you Jug?” She tried to look him in the eyes but he looked at the ground. She reached her hand up and gently touched his face, fingertips grazing the soft surface of his skin. “You don’t look like yourself.”

To her surprise he recoiled back from her touch, it was just…too much. “I’m fine Betty, I have to go,” Jughead turned to walk away but Betty narrowed her eyes and grabbed his hand.

She mumbled something under her breath but he didn’t quite catch it. Instead she tugged him down the hallway impatiently, heading towards The Blue and Gold office. He could’ve pulled away or walked in the other direction but he felt the fight leaving his body. This was the closest he’d been to Betty in days and, coincidentally, it was also the best he felt in days.

Once inside the office, she left the lights off and locked the door behind them. She ushered him to sit in one of the rolling chairs and sat on the desk in front of him. The lack of sleep was catching up to him, and he leaned on the desk with his head rest in his hand. It was taking all of his strength to not fall asleep right now.

“I’m not letting you out of here until you tell me what’s wrong,” She crossed her arms and looked down at him, waiting. He could tell she was frustrated.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he lied breezily.

Betty narrowed her eyes at him in disapproval, “Nothing’s wrong? So you’ve just decided to start ignoring Archie and I for no reason then?”

Archie and I he winced, “Yup.”

“I don’t buy it Jughead!” Her voice was animated and louder and definitely shouldn’t be as soothing as it was to him. She was one decibel away from actually yelling at him, but if anything it was bringing him closer to sleep. Pitiful, is what he was. “You don’t talk to us for weeks, you don’t even sit with us at lunch! You avoid me in the halls, you ignore me, refuse to answer my texts and-! Now, look at you! You’re falling asleep as I’m talking to you!” she gestured to him wildly as he felt his eyelids droop down.

“Mmfph…just haven’t been sleeping,” he mumbled.

“You’ve been avoiding us because you can’t sleep?” She questioned doubtfully, “All of the sudden, out of nowhere, you can’t sleep and that’s our fault? I mean that’s…that’s ridiculous.” Her words were blurring together in his mind but he heard some form of realization in her voice. Betty was a smart girl and, with all of the puzzle pieces in front of her, he reckoned it wouldn’t take long for her to figure out. “Jughead, did you…”

Sleepily, he swayed forward and fell asleep before his head even hit her lap.

--

Sometime later, he awoke feeling the same way he did all of those weeks ago at Archie’s house. Warm, content…. complete. He could vaguely recognize fingers laced through his hair and smell warm vanilla, leaving him to linger for just a moment more. He savored the feeling before his brain caught up with him and he opened his eyes.

His head was much much clearer now. The clearest it’d been in weeks. He sat up in his chair abruptly, pulling away from the warmth he so desperately desired. He glanced at the clock on the wall, he’d only been asleep for about an hour and a half but…damn that was three times longer than he was used to.

He could feel Betty looking at him. She was practically staring holes into the side of his face and when he turned to look at her…she just had this look. Like she knew everything. All of the secrets he’d been trying so hard to keep, all the cards he played so close to the vest were exposed and laying open for her to see. She knew she was his soulmate.

Since he was thinking so clearly once again, it didn’t take long for him to remember that he wasn’t her soulmate. Was that sympathy in her eyes? He couldn’t bear to look at it. The last thing he ever wanted was for her to find out that she was his soulmate.

Because he knew Betty-her kindness knew no bounds. She’d taking being his soulmate as a responsibility, she’d try to take care of him and be there for him-she’d put her own life with Archie on hold just to make him feel better. He could foresee Archie getting jealous, a conversation about how Betty was too nice to let Jughead down where she’d refute she feels bad for Jughead because he has a soulmate who could never love him back like that. Her sympathy… being her pity project was the last thing he ever wanted.

Panicked at his secret being exposed, he quickly got up and grabbed his stuff.

She was staring at him with a baffled look on her face, “Jughead…where are you going?”

He shouldn’t have answered her. He should’ve just ignored her as he had been doing for the past while. But he retorted, “Uh, class? It’s the middle of a school day, Betty.”

He started to walk out the door when Betty asked, “Can’t we at least…talk first?”

Another opportunity to walk away that he blatantly refused. But, dammit, the world was unfair and he was angry about it. His anger was just a bit misdirected. “Talk about what Betty?”

Her green eyes looked confused, a little hurt at his tone and her eyebrows were raised as if to say, “the obvious?”

“What?” He snapped, “You want a pat on the back? You want a ‘congratulations!’ for figuring it out?” She looked confused when he continued on to say, “The world, the universe hates Jughead Jones, okay? I get it. I get the message, loud and clear, Betty. So there’s nothing to talk about.”

“I’m sorry, the world hates you?” She questioned, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not making any sense.”

He rolled his eyes, frustrated for having to explain, “The world, universe, fate-call it what you want, Betty. I don’t believe in any of it-whatever made you my soulmate is bullshit, okay? So just forget about it!”

With that he darted out of the room, leaving behind one confused and very broken hearted blonde.

--

He retreated into the trailer at Sunnyside, laying face up on the springy, uncomfortable couch. Lazily he tossed a tennis ball up and down trying hard not to think about what just happened.

He was failing miserably, but he figured now Betty wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Which would make avoiding her easier. He scoffed at himself, dumbass.

Bang bang bang. He furrowed his brow at the sound of someone knocking on the trailer door. Bang bang bang. Okay whoever it was, was awfully impatient. Bang bang bang, followed by a muffled open up asshole!

He couldn’t get to the door quick enough, even heard the person on the other side trying the handle. Annoyed, he whipped the door open to see a rather pristine Veronica Lodge waiting for him on the other side. She was wearing her typical hounds tooth attire, looking less than pleased with him.

Veronica was an outlier in the puzzle, just like him. They both didn’t fit into the Betty and Archie equation, and so her persistent presence at Archie’s side was a source of confusion for Jughead. He just supposed Veronica wasn’t as good at picking up on signals as he was.

She invited herself inside, pushing past him aggressively. “What gives asshole?”

He played dumb, “What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? Gee, Jughead, that’s a good question,” she bit back sarcastically, tapping a finger to her chin in mock thought, “I’m talking about the fact that my best friend is crying because her soulmate just rejected her.”

Betty’s crying? Jughead felt a consuming wave of guilt wash over him. “I’m not her soulmate Veronica.”

Veronica just snorted out a bitter laugh, “Really Romeo? That’s why you just passed out on her lap in the middle of a school day?”

“I…” He wasn’t expecting Veronica to call him out like that, “Listen, it-it’s complicated.”

“You two are soulmates, not a Facebook status,” She narrowed her eyes at him, “So no, Jones, it’s not complicated.”

He shook his head at her, irritated, “We’re not soulmates.”

This evoked a long and sharp laugh from Veronica, Jughead could equate it only to cackling like a hyena. Once she realized he wasn’t laughing with her, she paused, “Oh. You were serious?”

“She’s my soulmate,” Jughead explained as Veronica nodded along, “But I’m…I’m not hers.”

“Wait, pause,” She commanded, “How the hell do you figure that?”

He gulped awkwardly, he shouldn’t be the one explaining this to her, “Come on Veronica. It’s Betty and Archie. Always has been.”

Veronica blinked at him, “You think…Betty and Archie…are soulmates?”

Jughead affirmed, “It’s obvious Veronica.”

She started to laugh again, subtler and to herself this time, but Jughead was getting pretty fed up. “Oh Jughead…what are we doing to with you?” She was quite amused, much to his annoyance. “Archie and I have known we’re soulmates since his seventeenth birthday.”

“What?” Jughead’s mouth was hanging open in surprise. Archie turned seventeen a few weeks after Veronica, months ago. His best friend found his soulmate and didn’t say anything? But that means…

Bang bang bang. Veronica raised her eyebrows in interest as someone else knocks on his door. “Expecting someone?” she drawled.

He shrugged her off before opening the door to find Archie on the other side, shoving his way in. Once inside the doorframe, a pretty angry Archie pushed Jughead back. “What the hell man! You made Betty cry!”

“Archie?” Veronica called out from the shadows of the trailer.

“Veronica?” He called back, surprised to see her here of all places. “Betty told you not to go after Jughead!”

“Betty also told you not to go after Jughead!” Veronica argued, more amused now.

The boy in question coughed awkwardly, prompting him to earn another push from Archie, “What? You think you’re too good for your own soulmate dude?”

Jughead looked bewildered because that certainly was not the case here. “You’ve been ignoring us for weeks! And this is why? Were you ever gonna tell her? Or just keep her in the dark?”

“Oh no Archie,” Veronica stepped in between the two boys and Jughead was grateful for just two seconds, “He thinks he’s not Betty’s soulmate.”

It was Archie’s turn to look confused so Veronica elaborated, “He thought the two of you were soulmates. Probably thought I was disillusioned and blind to your love.”

Unlike Veronica, Archie didn’t laugh. “That’s impossible Jughead, she’s like a sister to me. And obviously Ronnie and I are soulmates,” he seemed genuinely confused at Jughead’s confusion on the matter.

“Obviously?” Jughead scoffed, “You two didn’t tell anyone!”

“We thought everyone knew! We thought you knew!” They said in unison, a manner that was more unsettling than cute.

“Betty didn’t know,” he pointed out, “When I slept over a few weeks ago she asked me if you guys were soulmates.”

“My dad and I told her when he woke her up to go,” Archie rolled his eyes, “she wasn’t that surprised.”

And, oh god, was Jughead really feeling like an idiot now. “I mean,” Jughead scrambled to justify, “That still…doesn’t mean…that I’m Betty’s soulmate.”

Veronica pinched the bridge of her nose ready to bite out a rude comment when Archie intervened with a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Why? Why do you think that?”

“Because!” He exclaimed wildly, “I haven’t slept in weeks! Not since that night at your house Archie. I can’t focus in school, I can’t eat, I can’t stop thinking about her! And this whole time it’s been killing me because I thought…you two were soulmates. This entire time, I’ve been tossing and turning all night, looking like hell the next day-and she’s been fine! She’s even told me herself how well she’s been sleeping!”

And…that was pretty sound logic. It was hard to refute. Because even if Archie and Betty weren’t soulmates, there was that giant hole in the Betty and Jughead soulmate theory. He could see it in the way their faces fell. They couldn’t deny it.

“Oh,” Archie said, “Well, she’s pretty crazy about you, dude. The past few weeks she’s been going out of her mind trying to figure out what’s wrong with you. Ronnie and I have had to physically hold her back a few times.”

“She’s been crazy about you. I could tell that much since I first met you guys two years ago when I blessed this dismal town with my presence,” Veronica confirmed, “You’re all she’d talk about. From your dumb taste in movies, to wow Veronica! I can’t believe this article he wrote its so good blah blah blah to laughing at your unfunny jokes half an hour after you already left.”

Even…even if he wasn’t her soulmate, she still clearly loved him. And that was something, right?

Knock-knock. Someone else was at his door. Jughead sighed, exasperated but opened the door nonetheless to find Betty on the other side with a brown paper bag and a nervous look on her face.

“Betty-” He began to say but she interjected.

“Jughead, I know you’re…hurt and tired, but can I just come in? Can we please talk about us? I think I get why you’re upset-you don’t think we’re soulmates-wait, Archie?” She looked past Jughead’s shoulder to see the ginger standing awkwardly behind him.

“Betty?” Archie responded.

“Betty?” Veronica peeked over his shoulder.

“Veronica?” Betty was even more confused, stepping into the trailer.

Half-heartedly, Jughead raised his arm and lamely said, “Jughead, too.”

Archie snickered but Betty sent him an apprehensive stare, he wouldn’t be off the hook that easily.

Betty looked past him and stared at Archie and Veronica, “You two both promised me you wouldn’t say anything to him.”

Veronica had a light and airy tone, “And we had our fingers crossed the whole time, B.”

Betty put a hand on her hip, staring them both down, “Can we, uh, have a moment alone?”

“Of course!” Veronica chirped, taking Archie’s hand and pulling him into the living room, really only a few feet away from the doorway. Not nearly far enough for a private conversation.

“Veronica,” Betty’s said lowly, impatiently.

“Fine!” She huffed indignantly, moving to the door, “But I’m only a phone call away-don’t forget it Jones!”

“Goodbye Veronica, bye Archie!” Betty ushered them out the door quickly. As soon as the metal hinge of the door clicked shut, it became too quiet.

The silence was stifling, neither quite knowing what to say.

Eventually, Betty cleared her throat. “I…I don’t know what they told you, I hope it just didn’t make me look too embarrassing.”

“What do you mean?” He looked at the brown paper bag curiously.

“I just…remember when I was upset about how secretive Archie was about being with Veronica?” She waited for him to nod before continuing, “That night…when we fell asleep…it just felt different. I’ve never felt like that before. I assume you felt it too.”

“I did,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“After Fred woke me up, I was so confused-I felt so disoriented, I felt like I was pulled from the best sleep of my life- I had no idea what was going on. And after I went home I couldn’t sleep. I thought, I don’t know, maybe we were soulmates. I mean those are all the tell-tale signs!”

“I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming on here,” Jughead lamented, eyes guarded.

She nodded, “But the next day, I slept fine. I slept fine, every night after that. Ever since I turned seventeen, I’ve been sleeping fine-better than I used to!”

He looked down at his shoes, this was seemed to be their roadblock. How can she sleep content without him, if he was truly her soulmate?

“So I thought…I don’t know, maybe I’m crazy? And then I was…upset. Maybe dozing off together didn’t count but…I wanted it to be you,” Betty confessed, looking up at him from underneath her lashed, “I wanted my soulmate to be you, so badly. I was so frustrated at myself, and then you kept pulling away. You didn’t want to talk to me or-or Archie, I was worried you were being secretive-I thought that maybe you found your soulmate. And that’s why you weren’t around as much, just like Archie.”

“That…couldn’t be further from the truth-the reality is-” Jughead was astonished, this entire time he’d been fretting over the fact he wasn’t Betty’s soulmate while she was worried she wasn’t his.

“That we’re soulmates,” she finished with a smile that could soothe his soul, “But I didn’t know that-not until today when you, um, fell asleep on me? That’s when I realized-and I was so happy and excited. I had a soulmate and it was you, of all people. But then you-you woke up,” he could see tears forming in her eyes and he cursed himself for his harsh words before.

“I didn’t mean it-I swear,” he jumped in to explain, paranoia coating his voice, “I was-I was an idiot. I thought you were my soulmate but I wasn’t yours- I thought you and Archie were and I was trying to avoid you guys to make it hurt less but it was just stupid and-”

This time when she cupped his face with her hand, he didn’t pull away. He leaned into her touch, finding comfort in it as she nodded, “I know-it was your wording that gave you away. At first I thought you were upset because we were soulmates. I thought my own soulmate didn’t want me but-you said something about me being your soulmate and not us…and that’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

She rolled her eyes, “I knew exactly what happened that night. You freaked out the next morning, waited to see if I joined you in the crusade of sleepless nights, did a ton of research online and convinced yourself we were one of those non-reciprocal soulmate deals.”

He stared at her, stunned with a blush rising on his cheeks, “I, uh-well, basically?”

“I know you, Jughead Jones,” she smirked victoriously, bringing their foreheads to touch.

He could feel her grin against him, contagious enough to make him smile too. “I love you, Betty Cooper.” And it was true. Whether or not she had insomnia without him-they were soulmates. Maybe she was just an anomaly that way.

“I love you too,” she whispered before pressing their lips together softly.

If sleeping next to each other wasn’t enough to tell if they were soulmates, the fireworks and instant connection behind the kiss were enough to do the trick.

“Oh!” Betty said excitedly before pulling back, “I forgot about this!” She brought the brown paper bag up.

“What’s in the bag?” He looked at her, wondering what was important enough to interrupt their moment.

Betty pulled out an orange bottle with a white cap, a pill bottle. Tiny, beige capsules lined the inside of the bottle, it looked like it was halfway through.

He looked at her confused and she handed him the bottle. He read the label AMBIEN-TAKE 1X A DAY, HALF HR BEFORE INTENDED SLEEP.

Shocked, he looked up at her and she exclaimed loudly, “Sleeping pills, Jug! My mom was slipping them into my tea every night! That’s why she always wanted me home.”

“She didn’t want you to know when you found your soulmate,” Jughead realized.

“After Polly and Jason…she didn’t want me to have a soulmate,” She shook her head, disappointed in herself for not suspecting her mother sooner.

“Are you…Are you sure this is it? The reason you’ve actually been sleeping?” He eyed her cautiously, “Because with or without the insomnia-I know. We’re soulmates.”

“Well,” she took the bottle out of his hand before chucking it into the garbage with a sly smile on her face, “There’s only one way to know for sure. And you look like you could use a nap.”

[feisty-mary]

A Pawn’s Gambit (Liam x MC, The Royal Romance)

Notes.  I made a related post about Liam in the previous TRR chapter; you might find that a good supplementary reading to this fic. My MC is Sabrina de Marek. This is her very first non-AU appearance in my fics.

A pawn is the weakest piece on the chess board.

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

On the evening before Lady Sabrina returns to courtly society, she and the Duke of Ramsford share a conversation about her decision to stay in Cordonia.

Takes place before the pilot of the second book. Romance. 2.6k words. One-shot.

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

On the evening before Lady Sabrina’s return to courtly society, Bertrand finds her in the living room balcony of the Beaumont estate.

She is still fully made up, wearing an elegant white dress that has been her staple during her training in courtly graces and manners. She holds a glass of wine in her hand, probably from her earlier session of wine etiquette with Maxwell. She appears deep in thought, her gaze fixated on the cackling flames in the hearth.

“Lady Sabrina.”

She looks up, startled, as if she hasn’t been expecting anyone else to be up. It’s nearly midnight and the rest of the help staff has long been dismissed. “Bertrand.” 

Bertrand doesn’t remember when he allowed her to call him by his name – if he ever gave her permission in the first place – but for tonight he decides he’ll let it slide. “You should be getting some rest,” he tells her instead. “Tomorrow is a big day.”

She nods, her eyes surprisingly clear considering how often she has been staying up late for her training. Not for the first time, he notices the ease and poise in her gait; the lessons have been paying off. “I know.” She returns her gaze to the fire, a small smile on her lips. “I’m just excited to see Liam again.”

Bertrand frowns, both calmed and concerned by the odd sense of peace in her bearing. On one hand, her optimism is encouraging; a cool head will serve her better than hysterics. On the other, he can’t quite figure out how she can be so calm and unruffled, as if her reputation hasn’t been ruined overnight and she isn’t poised to lose the crown to another woman.

Bertrand pinches the bridge of his nose. Perhaps he’s just more used to telling her she’s wrong than complimenting her for getting things right.

Lady Sabrina puts down her glass, still half-full. “No need to look so worried,” she says, as if reading his mind. “I haven’t forgotten about the people who set me up.”

Bertrand stifles the almost instinctive urge to snap; there is no sarcasm in her voice. “Don’t misunderstand. I know you have… very strong feelings for the new king.” He looks at her sternly. “But the people we are up against were willing to invade your privacy and destroy your name, just to ensure that King Liam would not be able to choose you. This is not the time to be sentimental. I cannot allow you to return to court thinking that everything will simply work out because you have feelings for the King.”

Lady Sabrina purses her lips, her eyebrows furrowing. “I’m well aware of that.”

“Good. Then we understand each other perfectly.”

Lady Sabrina looks up at him. “Do we?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I have no illusions about everything falling into place just because of how I feel. My life in Cordonia hasn’t exactly been a fairytale since I got here,” she says. “But you can’t expect me to return to court tomorrow without feeling excited about seeing Liam again. It’s been weeks with absolutely no communication with him.” A look of worry passes over her face. “I just want to know how he’s been doing.”

Bertrand huffs, understanding her sentiment but unwilling to acknowledge it out loud. Perhaps it hasn’t been a wise decision to keep her so sheltered from the world outside the Beaumont manor. “His Majesty has been well, as far as I can tell. Much of his time has been dedicated to his responsibilities as the new king and – ”  He stops. “What is it?”

Lady Sabrina is shaking her head. “I already know that. Well, I didn’t, but it makes sense that Liam will be busy with those things.” She seems to tense up. “He’s the king now. Everyone expects him to dedicate his life to Cordonia.”

“Just as he has been doing his entire life. It is his duty.” Bertrand notes her suddenly rigid bearing. “You seem upset.”

“Perhaps a little. I have strong feelings about the subject.”

“About King Liam being king? Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” Bertrand snaps.

This time Lady Sabrina glares at him. “Not if I’m going to be his queen and his wife,” she replies sharply. 

Bertrand looks at her in surprise. She has consistently alluded to her feelings for King Liam throughout the social season, but this is the first time she openly talks about her future with him. “…I see you’ve made up your mind.”

“I have,” she affirms, rising from her seat. “You don’t seem surprised.”

Bertrand scoffs. “I admit I had... misgivings about Maxwell’s decision in the beginning. But I’m not blind, Lady Sabrina. Anyone with eyes could tell you care deeply about King Liam. It was only a matter of time.” 

Lady Sabrina lifts an eyebrow. “Nice to know you have so much faith in me, Your Grace.”

He snorts, unable to help himself. “I was greatly concerned by your lack of interest in the crown, however. Considering your background in economics and international relations, I would have thought you’d show more enthusiasm.”

“I was also working part-time waiting tables,” she reminds him. “Even now, the idea of being queen is still a little surreal to me. Maxwell’s offer sounded so magical when I was still in New York, but social season taught me… just how unpleasant things can be. To put it mildly.” She gives another shake of her head. “Knowing theory and experiencing the reality of it firsthand are two very different things.”

“And yet you’re still here,” he points out. “And you’ve made up your mind to stay.”

Lady Sabrina narrows her eyes. “I will not allow those people to get away with what they did.”

Bertrand nods in understanding. “Of course,” he agrees. Her anger is justified. “There is no forgiveness for what they did to you and – ”

“And for what they did to Liam,” she interjects, something in her expression cold and hard, before once more she turns her gaze to the flames. “They ruined everything for him,” she says, in a voice so low, so controlled, it makes even Bertrand pause. “They took his choice away from him, on what should have been the most important day of his life.”

Bertrand frowns, the way she has framed her words catching him off-guard. “Lady Sabrina – ” he calls out, stopping when he sees how her knuckles have turned white from clenching her fists too hard. It isn’t until his eyes find hers that he sees the hint of hurt and despair in them, and finally a realization dawns on him –

He has never seen her cry since the Coronation Ball.

Lady Sabrina hasn’t shed a single tear – not when they found her in the Cordonian airport with no one else but the palace guards, and not once in the last few weeks that she has been staying at the Beaumont estate.

This young woman – whose only fault was catching the eye of the Crown Prince of Cordonia, whose reputation has been dragged through the mud by people who are after the crown, and whose identity has been overshadowed by labels like ‘the waitress’ or ‘the mystery woman’ or ‘the candidate from House Beaumont’ – here, she stands, still holding herself together so well he can almost believe she has been preparing for this role all her life.

For what is probably the first time since the night of her ruin, the Duke of Ramsford looks at Lady Sabrina and sees a glimpse of the simmering anger that has been so well contained since the evening of the Coronation. It’s in her suddenly tense shoulders, her slightly trembling frame.

There is a reason, after all, why despite all his misgivings and doubts, Bertrand allowed her to carry the name of House Beaumont.

Bertrand clasps his hands together behind him. “Humor me, Lady Sabrina,” he hears himself saying. 

“How did you come to your decision to stay?”

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

Lady Sabrina takes her seat in front of the fireplace. The dancing flames cast shadows over her face, making it difficult for Bertrand to make out her expression. When she finally speaks, her voice is low, strained.

“Whenever we could sneak away together, Liam would tell me stories about how he grew up. Stories of his mischief… stories of his preparation for his role as king. Funny, fairytales always made it sound as if princes like him could have anything that they wanted.” She shakes her head. “But the more that he told me, the more it sounded like he didn’t have much of a childhood.”

“But this is Liam, so of course he doesn’t ever dwell on that. He accepts it as a fact of life and he moves on. To him, there are bigger things than missing his own childhood. Like the good he can do for his country... like the difference he can make in the lives of his people.” She manages a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Unsurprising, really. This is the same person whose own bachelor party was not about what he wanted, but what his friends did.”

Bertrand frowns. He remembers Maxwell going on that trip, together with King Liam’s other friends.

“There is one thing, though, that Liam has never said to me,” she says. “He has never once told me that he doesn’t want to be king.”

“Because he does,” Bertrand supplies. He might not be as familiar with the King as Maxwell is, but Bertrand has seen enough of the man to know one thing true – there isn’t anyone more suitable to rule Cordonia than King Liam himself.

“Because he does,” Lady Sabrina agrees, something like pride in her voice. “The former Crown Prince might have abdicated, but Cordonia has Liam – and he really, truly wants to be king. And not just any king, but a king who will put his country first, in every decision that he makes. A king whom people can look to and find hope in.” There is a faraway look in her eyes, as if she is echoing a conversation from not too long ago. “A king who will use his power to help those who have none.”

“A long time ago now, Liam told me he never once entertained the idea of having romance in his life. I didn’t think much of it at that time, but I always wondered why he kept… pushing me away... why he kept me at arm’s length, whenever he could.” She clasps her hands together, looks down at them. “He didn’t want me to fall in love with him, should powers in Cordonia prefer someone else to be his queen.”

She takes a slow, steadying breath. “He would never in a million years tell me so, but eventually I understood: He knows he might have to let me go. Not because he doesn’t care for me, but because he’s willing to sacrifice his own happiness for his people.”

Bertrand squares his shoulders, only then realizing how closely he has been listening. “And your feelings for him?” he asks. King Liam might have already known the sacrifices that being king entails, but what about Lady Sabrina? “What would you have done... had it come to that?”

Her answer is honest and straightforward. “I don’t know, Bertrand,” she says. “Which is why I figured I’d just have to make sure that it wouldn’t have to.”

Bertrand narrows his eyes at her, unsure what to make of the statement. “…what do you mean?”

“I decided that Liam won’t ever have to let me go – because I won’t give him any reason to,” she tells him, her voice firm. “All I needed to do was win the approval of everyone at court.”

Bertrand stares at her for a long time. He has greatly underestimated how much thought she has been giving to her conduct during the social season. “Which you did,” he says, remembering how the media and the public have all but sung Lady Sabrina praises in the days prior to the Coronation. “Everyone was rooting for you to be the next queen.”

Lady Sabrina nods. “I decided that if I couldn’t give Liam anything else,” she says, “I could at least make sure that this would be the one time in his life that he wouldn’t have to choose between his happiness and his duty.”

A moment of silence passes between the two of them, solemn and thoughtful. Against his better judgement, Bertrand considers Lady Sabrina’s words. The rational part of him knows that the idea is too ridiculous, too absurd to even bother with – it's a thought that never would have even occurred to someone who was born of nobility.

But there's a small part of Bertrand, too, that somehow knows  – the fact that Lady Sabrina wasn't born into nobility makes her idea worth thinking about in the first place.

“To imagine a world where a king wouldn’t have to choose between his happiness and his duty…” Bertrand huffs, a small, incredulous smirk tugging at his lips as he shakes his head. “A little silly, Lady Sabrina, and also a little stupid.”

She meets his gaze squarely, as if knowing he has more to say. “But?”

“But brave,” he tells her, and knows that he means it. “Certainly an idea I never would have considered. Especially not for someone like King Liam, who is duty-bound to always put Cordonia’s best interest, first and foremost.” He gives her a nod. “You know this.”

“I do,” she agrees, rising from her seat. “Which is why I’ve decided – that if Liam the King will have to put everyone else’s needs before his own, then I will be the one person who will always put him first.” She looks over to Bertrand, her eyes clear and bright and dry, the reflection of the flames making them seem so much more alive in that moment. “His queen.”

For what seems to be a small eternity, silence rules over the room, heavy and thick. Lady Sabrina tilts her chin, as if in challenge, her features twisted by a mixture of love and protectiveness so fierce it makes the words catch in Bertrand’s throat.

It seems so long ago now, when Cordonia’s nobility first welcomed Lady Sabrina with skeptical, mocking stares. Bertrand still remembers the condescending wager that went on among the nobles in the first few weeks of the social season. No one believed ‘House Beaumont’s little pawn’ would last so long in a game that destroys even the most veteran politician with a single, misspoken word.

“A pawn starts out as the weakest piece on the chess board,” Bertrand remembers his chess tutor once tell him. “But it can also become the most powerful one.”

He looks at Lady Sabrina carefully, wondering if this was Maxwell meant when he said he found hope for Cordonia in New York City. “It won’t be easy, Lady Sabrina.”

“Nothing ever is,” she agrees. “But I’ve made my decision.” 

He watches her pick up her drink. “I will be the Queen of Cordonia,” she asserts, and when Bertrand’s eyes meet hers there is something almost inspiring in the quiet, solid conviction in them. “But above all else, I will be Liam’s queen – one that deserves to stand by his side.”

She raises her glass, as if in a toast, the defiant smile on her lips accompanied by an unwavering expression of determination on her face.

“And that’s a promise.”

[blame-canada]

Tempt a Demon, Pay the Price

Craig Tucker was not religious in any sense of the term, but money was money, and Eric Cartman was convincing. Becoming a cheesy sideshow of a falsified church was not his idea of a good time, but a wild encounter he’d never have expected might turn that around. 

Hey guys so uhhh I definitely wrote this. Imp Tweek x Youth Pastor Craig has kind of exploded and I wanted to join in on the fun but since drawing isn’t really my thing, I figured writing would have to do. I actually like this one despite it being cracky so hopefully you guys do too! Link to AO3 here! Here’s some uhh, yeah. Some of this. Special thanks to Phone Destroyer for gifting us these ridiculous AUs.

Note: alternatively titled ‘The Gayte To Hell.’ I loved myself too much to actually go through with it, sorry.

Performing fake exorcisms and reading off the same script twice a week in a rotation of four major themes was not how Craig expected his adolescence to go. Surely, he thought, there would be one or two summer flings which would end in melodramatic heartbreak, and a few obsessions to cycle through in ridiculous phases he’d insist were not phases. Yet here he was, stuck in the sweltering heat of a church’s atrium, fanning himself with a promotional pamphlet and doodling in his notebook that was supposed to be filled with notes. It wasn’t; it was filled with more doodles.

“And Butters, I want to hear those bells next time, got it? The bells are important. Everyone loves the bells!”

“U-uh, yes Eric, sir,” Butters stuttered, and Craig huffed as he rolled his eyes. He could have been getting drunk at Clyde’s right now. He could have been stuffed in a closet with someone hot right now. He could have been losing his virginity right now. Those were fantasies, though, and right now, Craig liked money, and he liked cheating people out of said money. Cartman’s undeniably for-profit church fit that bill, and so here he stayed, seventeen and devoted to a God he did not believe in.

Truthfully, Craig had never set foot in a church in his life when Cartman made the initial offer. ‘We’ll be making bank, Craig!’ Cartman had insisted, and though Craig knew those words meant absolutely nothing positive when considering their history, he was feeling particularly moody and impulsive that afternoon, and something as idiotic as falsifying an entire church for cash definitely fulfilled the primal teenaged urge to do something reckless. Most kids scribbled on walls or did drugs to rebel. South Park kids started wars and Ponzi schemes.

Every couple of weeks or so Eric Cartman would make them gather ‘round in the atrium of the church to discuss any changes to the routine and make sure everything was in working order. It meant inspecting the fog machines and the motorized furniture, which was the best part, and listening to Cartman gripe about having lost a negligible fraction of money in the past week, which was the worst part. Any moment now and it’d be Craig’s turn to get yelled at. Wonderful.

“Craig, I’m thinking your routine is getting a little stale,” he sneered, a hand to his chin in what he probably thought looked scheming when it just looked stupid, and Craig shrugged at him. “Maybe we should amp up the bullshit, you know, make it cheesier.”

Craig snorted. “How do you get cheesier than, ‘open your heart to salvation!’?” He imitated the bad kind-of Southern accent he usually did with the opening line of his act, and Cartman scrunched up his face in an ugly frown.

“I don’t know, asshole, just play it up! Get more fog machines, fuck! Your job is to be convincing.” He was scowling, which was always a terrible expression on him, which made the whole conversation suddenly amusing.

“We both know I’m a terrible actor,” he countered. He crossed his arms and hoped Cartman’s face would start turning purple.

“You’ve been doing this for over a year and you’ve gotten much better than when you started. Figure it out,” Cartman insisted, an accusatory finger jabbed in his direction. Craig flipped him off and sighed as he leaned forward into his notebook. There wasn’t much more to the meeting, and he wanted to finish his sketch of a dragon. It was pretty messed up, and he was probably going to take a picture of it to post on twitter. He had the handle baddragons and he used it to post pictures of poorly drawn dragon sketches on the corners of his papers. He got a lot of angry DMs looking for the dildos of a common name. He thought it was a pretty good joke.

Cartman wrapped up the meeting five minutes later, and dictated that Craig check all the door locks this time before leaving. The building was a dump, but it was the foundation on which they’d built their lies, and they needed a church for people to come to if they wanted to continue making incredible amounts of money. This month was funded by donations to a non-existent homeless shelter for kids with cancer, and it was astounding that none of the churchgoers bothered to look up the organization they claimed was real and just dumped their cash in the collection buckets. Tithe had been taken to a whole new level, and it was as ugly and stupid as the dragons on his troll twitter account.

The church sometimes felt creepy at night, and that was especially true when no one else was there with him. His colleagues had escaped as soon as Cartman had ended his spiel about the importance of proper fog machine use (to embellish the mysterious effect they were looking for). Craig was supposed to be removing the evil spirits from the souls of their planted audience members. Obviously, this meant there had to be smoke coming from the walls. The regulars ate the shit up, and it was frankly embarrassing that they’d refused to catch on. Humanity was such a waste.

He was halfway through blowing out all the over-the-top candelabras at the altar when a creaking sound squeaked underneath his feet. Craig shuffled his weight between legs to try to trigger it again, but he felt nothing out of the ordinary in the flooring that could have caused the squeaking in the first place, and he shrugged and moved on.

A few moments later the floor did it again, and this time Craig turned around to look for a source of the sound. The church was so dimly lit he could hardly see a thing, but what he could see looked normal. He was about to turn around and return to his candle-snuffing when the floor did it again, but this time louder, and it sounded more like a groan than a creak.

Craig tensed. He refused to die in some fucked up church when he didn’t even believe in God in the first place. Absolutely not. He carefully shifted the candle extinguisher to brandish it like a baton should he need to strike a threat. He waited.

A rush of hot air flew through the building and put out the remaining candles one by one, and at the same time, the ground below him began to shake. Craig bent his knees in a defensive stance to keep his balance. From the floorboards came what started as a groan and turned into a wail, which turned into screaming that made his ears feel like they were bleeding and felt like claws gouging at the flesh of them at the same time. In his surprise, he dropped the extinguisher, and brought both palms up to his ears to try to drown out the cries. It sounded like thousands of horrified voices moments before death, and even though Craig couldn’t care less about that part, it must have had some sort of magic to it because his eyes welled up with tears that he couldn’t control or understand.

From the place in the floor that the screaming exploded grew a light, warm and orange which turned to a blinding yellow the louder the voices cried. His hands weren’t helping, and he was resisting the urge to scratch at his ears in an attempt to stop the horrid sounds. The light and sound disappeared for one blissful second where Craig thought it might be over, but as soon as the silence in the air began to ring, an explosion burst from the floorboards in the center of the aisle.

Craig choked on a gasp and hacked as he backed away as quickly as he could without falling. His back pressed against his podium, and he watched as the cheap wooden floor panels splintered and broke apart to leave room for a hole split right through the earth that glowed an angry red-orange, like the flames of a fire. Never in all his life had he ever felt so compelled to talk to God. 

He was about to start awkwardly reciting lines he’d learned in his pseudo-studies when out of the hole popped a ragged, fiercely clawed hand, which spread its pointed tips to dig itself into the wood. Craig shrieked, and any semblance of confidence or security fled from him at such a supernatural sight. The hand braced itself, and it pushed down with all its might to make the slab of wood collapse under its weight and heave to the surface a body curled inward.

Craig covered his mouth to prevent his panicked gasping for air from making sounds. In front of him, in front of the hole that undoubtedly led to Hell (which Craig had not believed in until personally witnessing its existence just now), was what looked like a boy.

At first glance he seemed normal, but from his back spread two huge crimson wings, leathery like a bat’s, and Craig spotted two matching horns sprouting from within messy golden locks of hair. The wings grew larger as they unfolded, and soon they were easily surpassing the width of the aisle, splayed fully out. Behind him a tail like a rat’s swung back and forth like a dog’s, a telltale spade at the end of it twitching. “A demon,” Craig whispered, and he yelped when the creature’s head shot up to meet his gaze with piercing cat’s eye pupils in fiery yellow irises.

“An imp, actually,” he said, and with each flap of his lips Craig saw canines sharp as daggers lining his gums. He gulped, his throat suddenly feeling dry as a desert, and the demon boy tilted his head slowly, carefully.

“You’re not like the others,” he said, and it took a few moments for Craig to compose himself before he realized the boy was staring at him, waiting for an explanation.

“I’m not really a pastor!” Craig held his hands up in the air as though it might help prove his innocence. His gut twisted and he fought the urge to vomit with all his being. The ground was still screaming, and he was finding himself drawn to staring at it instead of the demon in front of him.

“Oh yeah, s-sorry about that, hang on,” the boy said, and with a snap, the hole was gone and the screeches were completely silenced. Craig looked up into his intense eyes again and found that even with the gate to hell closed, there was still a sound that surrounded him, almost like a low chanting or hum that represented his raw energy. He stood up straight, and that was when Craig realized that the second half of his body was not human, but furry and cloven hooved. Dear God.

He tilted his head again, and leaned on the pitchfork Craig hadn’t noticed he had. “You say you’re not a servant to the Lord?”

“I-I honestly don’t even know what that means,” Craig said quickly. “I don’t even believe! Well, okay, now I might, but. Before that, no. I do this for money!”

The demon nodded. “I knew that much, and that’s why I came here to drag you to Hell. I don’t know, though…” He trailed off, and raised a clawed finger to press it to his lower lip in thought. “Y-you’re pretty cute, nnh, for a human.” He twitched to the left and frowned.

Craig stuttered, lost for words or what to say really, but when he did finally speak, it was not at all what he wanted to say. “You too!” he exclaimed, and he covered his mouth immediately afterwards as though it could rescind his statement. What an embarrassment.

The demon boy chuckled. The sound was melodic and shook with the humming of his energy so that it reverberated in the church’s echoey chambers, and it was beautiful. Craig wasn’t sure if he was supposed to find it beautiful. Demons were supposed to be the worst, after all, according to his made-up scripture. Craig was supposed to be banishing demons. This one seemed pretty okay, though, and even though Craig was shaking so badly he felt like he might fall apart at the seams, he wasn’t all that threatening. That is, if he could get past the teeth and claws and wings, and horns, and hooves. He was particularly fixated on the cherry-red appendages sticking out of his back.

“Y-you like them?” the demon asked, and he made one flapping motion with his wings for good measure. The wind of it brushed Craig’s hair back and nearly ripped his hat clean off. Luckily he was still crouched against his podium, or else he probably would have stumbled from the wind force.

“Who are you?” Craig finally asked. The demon’s head tilted even further to the side in a way that made Craig think it must hurt his neck, but he seemed content.

“I’m not supposed to tell you,” he started, “but I like you, so I’m Tweek.” He smiled, and it would have been sweet if he didn’t have terrifyingly sharp fangs taunting him behind his lips. The demon boy named Tweek was pretty, Craig would admit, with high cheekbones and elongated features that made him look lanky but somehow beautiful, like a dancer. His eyes were proving just as incredibly sharp as the first time he met them, and they danced on their own with their own fires. He was fascinating to look at, and Craig was mesmerized. The way Tweek giggled made Craig think he’d been caught staring.

“So...yeah. Hell, I guess. You really shouldn’t do this, y-you know,” Tweek lectured, gesturing at the church. “The only reason I can come in here is that your church is so illegitimate, you have no protective worship energy surrounding it. None of you believe at all. I-isn’t that sad, t-to just, not believe in something?” He frowned slightly. “It seems lonely. If I was allowed to like God, I probably would. He seems nice.”

Craig shook his head. “Okay, I’m sorry, but I have no idea what’s happening. Am I dreaming? What the fuck did I take?” he asked, and Tweek laughed at him again.

“You didn’t take anything. You just fucked up and I’m here to make you pay.”

“Oh, good,” Craig mumbled. “I always wanted to become a martyr.”

“I don’t think this counts as martyrdom. You’re not even religious. You’re just a shitty person.” Tweek looked surprised, his cat eyes blinking slowly. “You don’t want to make your case before I toss you in, then?” Tweek stepped forward, his wings rising to glide over the pews. The closer he got, the grander they became, until Craig was so enamored with them that he wanted to reach out and pet just one finger on the skin that webbed Tweek’s wings together.

“I don't really have a case. I know this is wrong.” Craig shrugged. He was starting to feel more comfortable, and his shaking had been reduced to adrenaline-fueled tremors. Now that he looked closer, Tweek seemed to be shaking slightly too. “Are you afraid of me too?” he asked, but he instantly regretted it the moment Tweek snorted at him.

“N-no,” he smirked, “I just shake. God made me wrong so Satan took me instead. He’s very, ngh,” Tweek twitched violently mid-sentence, “nice! You'd like him, I think. Most do. Let's go!” Tweek snapped and the hole in the ground reappeared, squealing at full-force.

“You want me to get in that?” Craig yelled over the cries, and Tweek gave him a confused look.

“W-well, you don't really have a choice.”

“No?” Craig asked, and Tweek shook his head. Craig rubbed his hands together and did what he did best: scam his way through a tight spot. “You're a devil, right?” Tweek nodded slowly. “Wouldn't the more devilish thing to do be to… I dunno, defy your orders and steal me away for yourself?” Craig crossed his fingers behind his back.

Tweek’s eyes practically glowed. “Wow, would you really let me do that?” Craig nodded, very subtly as he was still very uncertain, but he did. “That sounds fun!” He shrieked and the high pitch of his voice rattled the windows and pierced Craig’s brain like an instant migraine. “O-oh, sorry. I forget you're so fragile.” He looked sheepish, which was not a description Craig thought he would ever give a demon. Then again, Craig hadn't believed in demons until one quite literally showed up in front of him. 

“You still have to get in, though,” Tweek said, frowning. “I can fly but I don't want to fly out of here in such a small town. Satan doesn't like when we’re spotted. I want to teleport a little ways out. Is that okay?”

“No,” Craig said, his stomach flipping again at the sight of the flames beneath the floorboards. “But I guess I have no choice.”

“Nope!” Tweek said cheerfully, and Craig sighed.

“Okay,” he said, feeling as though he'd either horribly regret or fondly recall his decision, “take me away, demon boy.”

“I'm an imp,” Tweek corrected, but Craig rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, imp boy. Let's go.”

His stomach erupted into butterflies at the excited gleam in Tweek’s eyes as he held out a clawed hand for him to take. Craig slowly placed his palm in his, and the pad of his hand was surprisingly soft to the touch. It was warm, but not clammy, and Craig relaxed into his hold as he was tugged gently forward. “I can't believe I'm doing this,” he muttered, but Tweek gave him a reassuring smile that was much gentler without the deadly fangs poking out of his lips.

“I won't hurt you,” Tweek said, and somehow, for some idiotic reason, Craig believed him. For a moment he recalled his family, his friends, and his coworkers who would find his notebook discarded and the floors ripped to shreds without any idea of what had transpired, but something about the imp holding his hand made him less worried about the life he was likely abandoning for a long time. 

Tweek led him forward and he gulped, staring down into the flames that screamed. “They won't burn you,” Tweek said, “they’re just warm.” Craig still feared them. After a moment to collect himself, he nodded, giving Tweek permission to lead him in.

“So, are you familiar with the story of Sodom and Gomorrah?” Tweek asked, grinning, and Craig choked on his spit before he was pulled forward and began a free-fall through a wormhole leading to God knew where.

When they resurfaced it was in a dark shack in a town Craig didn't recognize, and Tweek had the same grin in place as when they hopped through the portal the first time, and Craig had to wonder just how familiar he was with the story of Sodom and Gomorrah and how much it was going to relate to the hours of sex they would undoubtedly be having in the very near, very enticing future.

THE END 

[xheartsigh]

coup de foudre

(exp.) french: love at first sight

sugakookie oneshot, college basketball player/engineer student!Yoongi and photographer/cinematography student!Jungkook (they are too cute for their own good and everyone ships them so it’s fluff)

writter for @yoonkookweek‘s Day 6 - Non idol/musician AU

According to Taehyung, Jungkook’s best friend, what he's doing is borderline pathetic. Strike borderline, Jimin would correct him shouting and Jungkook would throw pillows on both of them. His roommates can be so annoying. What did he do in his earlier life that he deserved this kind of punishment? He needs to find new friends and preferably soon, before they announce to the world (okay, just the whole university) his undying crush.

“You can, you know, always ask him out?” Jimin steals a french fry from his plate but Jungkook doesn't even bother to stop him even though he hates sharing. He is too engrossed in his own panicked thoughts about the game at the weekend.

“That's out of the question. I- I don't even know if he likes boys and I don't want to...” ruin what we have, he would say but who is he kidding? They don't have anything. They aren't friends, merely acquaintances and just because Jungkook is constantly around at every basketball match and the shooting guard of the university's team thinks he loves the game so much. But Jungkook couldn't care less about basketball if it wasn’t for Min Yoongi.

“Oh trust me, he doesn’t care about that,” Taehyung speaks up his mouth still full with food, his words slurring but Jungkook perks up his ears at the new information.

“How do you know?”

The light brown haired guy chews on the last piece of his pizza slice and enjoys the attention he gets. He wipes his mouth clean with a napkin ridiculously slowly before he answers theatrically:

“Well, I spoke with Namjoon who heard from Jin who is his roommate that he swings both ways.”

He says it so simply like it’s nothing but Jungkook can't do anything but gape at him until the horrid thought crosses his mind.

“You didn't tell Namjoon that I...” he starts self-consciously while he constantly fidgets with his chopsticks but never actually touches his food that grows cold in front of him.

“That you are helplessly in love with one of his best friends? No. But I think he knows it already,” Tae scoffs rolling his eyes. For him, it's so obvious that blinds should see it too. It's also nerve-wrecking as hell to watch your friend suffering because he can't form one single sentence without stuttering around his crush. They are just tiptoeing around each other instead of kissing grossly.

“He can't. And I’m not in love, I...” Jungkook protests weakly, in no vain. “I just admire him a lot.”

“You are not that subtle as you think you are. You have a folder on your computer dedicated to your photos of his hands,” Jimin reminds him and raises an eyebrow almost challenging but the younger can't deny that.

“He has nice hands!” he says instead but it's the worst kind of excuse because vaguely 70% of his taken photos feature the baseball-player.

“If you say so,” Taehyung shrugs and shares a knowing look their roommate, Jungkook knows he is in way too deep.

Jungkook started going to the basketball games because he got into the uni’s newspaper editor team as their photographer. That’s how they met. When he was a freshman majoring in Cinematography, Min Yoongi was already a senior in Engineering but lucky for him, the older decided to enroll in Masters here and continue his basketball career too. They didn't really speak, only a few words here and there because they had mutual friends but Jungkook was present at every game he could and used the newspaper as an excuse to take numerous shots of Yoongi playing, jumping, warming up or just simply sitting on the bench. He was so sure it wasn't too obvious because none of his pictures proved that he got caught by the captain. So this weekend he does exactly what he did all the time: searching for a good place in the crowd and taking his Nikon into his hands waiting anxiously for the players (especially that handsome blondie) to set a foot on the court.

However, Yoongi wasn't as oblivious as he thought and his friends loved to tease him about it.

“Your loverboy is here again,” Hoseok slaps his butt while passing by him in the narrow locking room. Yoongi likes the adrenaline rush that comes with each game but nowadays he has one more reason to be excited about them. Though he would never admit it.

"There's no loverboy," he grunts and almost throws his body spray at his teammate who dares to laugh at him.

"Ah and how long are you going to play dumb and pretend not to know he has enough pictures of you he could probably sell a photobook?"

"Good for him," Yoongi puts his jersey with the university logo on and grins at Hoseok. "Just promise me you won't drool over my face once you buy it."

"Ew..."

"Hurry up, you rascals. Even pink little princesses change faster than you. I want to see you on field in a minute!" the coach yells at them yanking the door open and banging on the lockers. Everyone picks up their pace and gather around the door. The grumpy coach looks around. "Where is that giant mascot? Has anyone seen our damn mascot? He has to pee again? Unbelievable!"

Laughter and exciting chattering die away at one glare from the man above them as he points his finger at them one by one.

"I want to see you play fair and nice like you are ready to die for this team. But not actually dying, Jung! No more jumping on the hoop if you can't come down!" Yoongi can't surpass a smile thinking back at the iconic scene when his friend got a mental breakdown in the middle of the game because of his fear of heights. Fortunately, now Hoseok could laugh at it too.

A few more pointers and encouraging words later all of them cheer together. "Grizzlies, fighting!"

The game is okay. Yoongi is in his element, scoring points to ensure his team's win. It's not even a close call in the end, they win almost effortlessly because it looks like the opposite team gave up in the last round. Even though they are all sweaty and gross, they hug in joy and the audience cheers for them loudly. However, Yoongi longs for somebody specific’s cheers and he’s looking around in that high up area searching for one particular innocent face. He tries not to show it, but in the end, he turns out to be weak and gives in the urge no matter how hard he tries to suppress it. And there it is: the sparkling eyes focusing on him. But the younger boy looks away shyly as he notices the intense gaze on him. The basketball player smirks and after the lap of honour he withdraws with the rest of his teammates to the locker room to shower and change.

He drags out the time with preparing because he isn't in the mood for going to the after-party. Usually there's nobody interesting there, only booze and drunk college kids. He would rather go home and sleep or continue pining. However, on his way out of school that he believed to be empty, he hears sounds of dribbling from the basketball court and his curiosity takes him there against his will. Not that he minds as soon as he sees those dark, fluffy strands of hair.

Jungkook is just messing around, never throwing the ball at the backboard and Yoongi can't stay in the shadows for a long time.

“Wanna actually play?” he speaks up approaching the startled boy.  His steps are light hiding his nervousness. Thankfully because otherwise it would be pathetic to act like a lovesick teenager because of those damn butterflies (more like nasty bats) in his stomach. Especially when the younger looks at him through those beautiful long eyelashes.

“I’ve never tried before, I mean for real,” he blinks bashfully and stills leaving the ball untouched on the ground. Yoongi picks it up easily and lazily scores a perfect 3-pointer.

“I can teach you. It’s not that hard. You know the rules?” he asks casually and acts like he doesn’t know the other has been there for years now. Jungkook simply nods, not finding his voice and Yoongi finds it adorable.

“Come here,” he beckons Jungkook closer to him and when he complies, h maneuvers him near the center. “Bend your knees, don't be so tense and try to throw it in a high arc.”

The photographer nods once again and tries to follow the advice but he can't do anything with his jangled nerves. It may be the longest time they have ever been alone and his knuckles turn white at how hard he squeezes that poor ball before throwing it. It lands nowhere near the hoop but Yoongi doesn't laugh at him. He gives a few more pointers and brings back the rolled away ball. It takes a dozen more times but Jungkook rarely misses anymore.

“See? You’re good, very good actually,” Yoongi praises him and the younger couldn't be happier. He has lost his awkward shyness somewhere along the way and smiles openly at the shorter male.

“Beginners’ luck?” he offers with a shrug  and the captain smiles at him fondly.

“Yeah, sure.”

He can't help the warmth spreading in his chest and his following offer just blurts out of his mouth surprising them both:

“Let's play a one-on-one till 3 scores. If you win I will take you out on a date.”

As soon as the words stumbles out, he has a mild panic attack and wants to rephrase the sentence saying that by date he meant a friendly eating-out, but he never gets to that.

“O-okay,” Jungkook mutters blushing and Yoongi swears he has never seen anything cuter.

So they start the game. It’s unfair really. The older being at almost professional level while Jungkook still occasionally slips. Also, he’s an easy person to tease, especially when it comes to skinship. Yoongi would blame it on his superb defending techniques but the way he cages the slightly taller boy is nowhere near as aggressive as it should be. But he enjoys seeing the faint pink of the other’s ears none the less. He has no difficulty in elegantly shooting the ball through the hoop twice but his now even slimmer chances make Jungkook bold and competitive. He holds the elder's gaze while dribbling the ball and then he uses the same trick Yoongi did during the game and scores one.

“Nice,” the basketball player comments proudly, his grin never fading. He attacks the younger with vigour but Jungkook gets the run of it and blocks him. It's only then when Yoongi notices his wide shoulders and his hard chest and suddenly the cute bunny smiled kid is not that babyish freshman he met almost three years ago. He has grown up nicely. It distracts him for more than a fleeting moment and Jungkook takes advantage of this to score another goal. It makes things more interesting.

“Is that all you have, grandpa?” the younger teases almost cockily but the melody of his laughter is too sweet. Yoongi scoffs.

“You wish!” he reposts and quickly steals the ball out of Jungkooks hands. He withdraws until the mid-court line and even though he could most possibly throw it in with a nice jump, he waits for the other boy to attack and when it happens, he blocks it easily. They play mouse and cat, a game of push and pull and Yoongi can see when Jungkook's patience is running thin. Then, he makes a mistake: turning right when he should have gone left and now the ball is in the younger's hands. Jungkook just runs and jumps and… wins with a beautiful score.

In the silence both of them are panting hard, chest heaving and heart burning. A minute passes without them speaking and just stealing glances at each other. It’s the usually shy and quiet boy who speaks up first breaking the idyllic atmosphere:

“Why did you let me win?” He's too curious to not say anything about it because it’s obvious that Yoongi could have win if he had really wanted to. But the player isn’t an easy prey to be questioned.

“Don't flatter yourself, I'm just tired because of the game,” he explains half-heartedly but avoids the curious gaze that burns holes into his scalp. It's not necessarily a lie but it isn't the truth either.

They fidget around each other nervously, a little bothered while packing things up and getting ready to leave. Jungkook brings his camera and poppy on his cheeks. He's so young, innocent and easy to break while the older can be a little bit too wild when it comes to basketball or his studies. He's afraid of being a disappointment, but looking at that shy lip bite and blush, ha can only think of one thing: fuck that.

“So...” he shatters the silence between them, catching Jungkook’s curious eyes on him. He smiles. “How about that date?”