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anamatics · 4 years

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Send a ship and I’ll tell you who: Fleurmione 🥺

Here have some stuff form the Teenagers Universe, some spoilers as this is mostly set in the aftermath as that’s what I’m writing now. Slight CW for dealing with the aftermath of trauma.

Gives nose/forehead kisses

Probably Fleur, she's the more affectionate of the two of them, but when Fleur dozes off in the middle of a translation, half-read books of runic poetry scattered across the desk and crumpled bits of parchment scatted on the floor. Hermione drapes a blanket over Fleur's shoulders and gently shakes her awake. "Come to bed," she says. She bends and presses her lips to Fleur's forehead. "The runes will still be there in the morning."

Gets jealous the most

Jealousy was reserved for that one time that Hermione had a maybe-almost-something with Pansy that blossomed into what even Fleur agrees is one of the healthiest friendships either of them has. And besides, Hermione had that mortifying moment with Professor McGonagall that was, well, enlightening for everyone. When Pansy finds out about that during a party she laughs for a good ten minutes before giving Hermione a slow once-over and announcing, “I stand by my point about degenerates and nerds from fifth year.”

Hermione doesn’t hex her, but it’s a close thing.

Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive

So maybe Ron splitches himself once too many, and Hermione’s started to just take the night tube back to White City. It’s easier, honestly. Living in a space that straddles both muggle and wizarding London has left her so accustomed to occupying both spaces that it seems the natural option. When she and Fleur get caught in the turnstiles, and neither of them can quite get their oyster cards to read, they realize that they’re in their late thirties and probably should not be out so late when they have children waiting for them at home. But Pansy throws the best parties and the sitter’s agreed to stay late while they explain to the TFL attendant that they’re not too drunk to get on the train, and no one will get sick.

Takes care of on sick days

Here’s the thing. Wizards don’t get sick the way muggles do, no, they have ailments of the wizarding kind that Hermione’s got no idea how to deal with them when she first encounters a case of dragon pox on her third day of residency at the Queen Vic’s A&E. She still gets headcolds and a flu shot every year because in the eyes of magic she’s more muggle than witch. Fleur attempts to make soup, and, despite Hermione having (relatively) mastered cooking, she’s still not the best at it. When she ends up disappearing for twenty minutes and coming back with a packet of instant noodles from the corner shop, Hermione just sniffles and smiles woozily at Fleur. “Hate that you can’t catch this.”

“I’d rather you didn’t catch it either,” Fleur replies. “Perhaps this is a lesson about refusing to take the floo or apparating to work?”

“I will die before I floo willingly and you like taking the train as much as I do.” Hermione takes the chopsticks offers her and sits up, frowning at the instant noodles. Even through her clogged nose, Hermione recognizes the scent of peppers. “The Korean one?”

“To clear your sinuses,” Fleur answers.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

Here’s the thing, the water’s cold and Hermione isn’t going to just get in it without prompting. She’s brought a book to read, a fiction book. She’s taking a break from all the academic reading and reading a novel that Pansy’s recommended in the shy, hesitant way that Pansy does anything that matters. She’s been working her way through the wizarding classics, but this novel is new - just published. Pansy’d been insistent, and when it’d arrived in the post Hermione understood why. She’s not a fool, and she recognizes a pseudonym and a barely disguised dedication.

Fleur’s standing by the water, ankle-deep in the chalk-colored water, waving at her. Hermione sets the book aside moves to join Fleur, their fingers tangling together as they wade out into the water, staring across the channel at the French coast.

“I can’t believe she kept her hobby a secret,” Hermione comments. “Dunno how she has the time between doing all those proofs for work and taking care of the kids while Hannah works nights.”

“I think she wanted to impress up on the world that no one truly knows her,” Fleur answers.

“Very Slytherin.”

“Quite.”

Gives unprompted massages

It used to be that touch was something they both craved, having spent so much of their early relationship apart. Now, when Hermione gets home at half ten from a shift at St. Mungo’s that turned into a shift and a half dealing with a magical catastrophe so bad that they’d had to call Andromeda back from Reading to even begin to make sense of what had happened. Near-fatal organ damage from accidental magic was something Hermione was used to dealing with, but this, threaded with something think and dark and particularly nasty that sat like oil amidst the child’s blood was not her area of expertise. She’s dead on her feet, and her patient is barely stabilized by the time she’s comfortable leaving. She collapses on the sofa when she arrives back at Catterlily Place, half asleep as she melts into the soft cushions.

“How bad?” Fleur asks. She’s got her glasses perched on her nose and is already bending to pull Hermione’s trainers from her feet. Her fingers dig into Hermione’s sore, aching feet, and Hermione cannot say anything at all, knowing full-well that there’s a chance the patient won’t survive the night.

“We had to call Andy back from Reading.”

“Oh, chérie.” Fleur’s hands still and she pushes herself to her feet, settling next to Hermione and wrapping her arms around Hermione’s shaking shoulders. “You are so, so good at what you do, Hermione. So is Madame Tonks. It’ll be okay.”

Drives/rides shotgun

“I think this is a threat to public safety,” Fleur says as Hermione adjusts the seat and fiddles with the height of the steering wheel. She walks around to the passenger side of their rented hatchback, and climbs awkwardly into the seat. “We could be killed in this deathtrap. We are witches. We do not have to drive anywhere.”

“Fleur,” Hermione says with grave seriousness. “Sometimes things that are easier... are worse.”

As they drive away from Reykjavik and into the Icelandic wilderness, Fleur’s breath catches and Hermione’s smile grows smug. This was going to be a fun holiday.

Brings the other lunch at work

It takes over a year for the goblins to allow Hermione back into Gringotts. She runs into Damien Betz when she’s ducking into Fleur’s office on the second floor with with a bag from Pret and two coffees during her lunch break at the Queen Vic. “Mademoiselle Granger,” Damien says. “Bonjour.”

“Salut Damien,” Hermione says. She tilts her head toward Fleur’s office door. “Is she in?”

He nods, but bends close. He’s clearly just had his line done, as it looks as though a razor has carefully sculpted the shape of his bangs against his forehead. “This morning,” he bites his lip, frowning, “didn’t go well.”

The Blakeley Vault has been a nightmare for the entire curse breaking team for weeks now. “I’ll bear that in mind,” Hermione says. “It was nice to see you, Damien.”

He waves his hand, and Hermione moves toward Fleur’s office with purpose.

Has the better parental relationship

When Paulie drops them back at the hostel, she again offers them a chance to stay at her place with her husband. “It’s no trouble, really,” she says. She drums her fingers on the steering wheel. “I know this hasn’t been an easy day - being surrounded by muggles,” she wrinkles her nose looking the hostel’s shabby exterior over, “does not sound like my kind evening.”

In her distaste, Hermione is able to look through the haze of sadness that’s come over her to see Pansy in Paulie - the Parkinson upbringing creeping through despite the fact that this woman has a muggleborn witch as a mother, despite the fact that she’s helped Hermione undo all the damage she’s done to her parents, despite the fact that she’s being so kind to two complete strangers, she’s still a Parkinson at heart.

“It’s alright, Paulie, thank you though.” Hermione says. “I expect there will be a lot of days like this before things get better.”

Later, Fleur holds her and promises her that it will get better. “At least your mum can stand to look at you,” Hermione says through the tears.

Tries to start role-playing in bed

“Grab the headboard,” Fleur says. Her hair is mussed, lipstick smeared across her cheek. They’d been out at a ministry function, but all it had taken was one lingering look from Hermione, her lips closing around the olive in her martini, to have Fleur pulling her into a darkened alcove and pushing her up against the wall. Hermione doesn’t mind when this part of Fleur comes out, the part that’s content to kiss her like she’s damnation and salvation at once. Hermione’s hands found their way under Fleur’s tailored jacket (she’d insisted on attempting a menswear look to compliment the dress Hermione’d found while out with Pansy and Ginny a few days back and the final product had Hermione’s mouth dry even before they’d left the house), and she’s whispering about finding somewhere more private.

Hermione grabs the headboard, and Fleur’s straddling her hips, eyes dark and wild. Fleur reaches for her wand, raises an eyebrow. “Will you let go?” she asks. “If I say you can’t?”

Swallowing, Hermione shakes her head. “I won’t.”

But then Fleur’s using a severing charm on her dress, leaning over her with a sinful smile. She bends to kiss Hermione and the whole world is closing in on that one moment and Hermione can’t breathe, she cant--- When the world relaxes and Hermione’s body starts to untense, she’s sobbing, back in the terrible memory of that night at Malfoy Manor and Fleur’s gathering her up in her arms and apologizing over and over again.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer

It takes nearly three years before Hermione is comfortable going to a club again. Being trapped in the dark, surrounded by people she can’t see, whose faces are obscured and then illuminated by flashing lights is enough to send Hermione into panics that last two or three days. So they go out to warmly lit pubs full of old men who look them over before shrugging and turning their attention back to their conversations instead. On a warm night, when they’ve shared a pitcher of Pims with Harry, Ron, and Ginny, Fleur gets to unsteady feet and asks Hermione if she’d like to dance to the song that’s playing lowly from the wireless in the corner. To her credit, she nearly manages to execute the proper steps to the dance before they tumble together, clinging to each other as they sway to the music.

“This is so disgustingly adorable I need to get a camera,” Pansy comments, sliding into the seat Hermione’s vacated. There’s a large diamond on her ring finger, which is, ostensibly, the reason they’re all out. Hannah didn’t wait long. She pours the remainder of the pitcher into the final clean glass, fishing out cucumber and crunching on it thoughtfully. “When are you two getting married?”

Hermione shrugs, and Fleur just laughs.

“I mean they sort of are married,” Ron says.

“Totally,” Ginny agrees.

Harry buries his head in his hands and groans. Pansy reaches over and pats him on the back before drawing Ginny into a conversation about the ring. Hermione rests her head on Fleur’s shoulder. “We should do that, you know.”

“Let Pansy have her fun,” Fleur says. She presses a kiss to Hermione’s forehead. “There’s a lifetime for us.”

Still cries watching Titanic

They go to the cinema not long after the war ends, and Hermione very bluntly asks for the attendant what the longest film that’s playing’s run time is. They’re avoiding her parents, who are desperate to reconnect since she’s retrieved them from Australia, and avoiding Fleur’s, who’ve come across the channel to meet Hermione’s parents. When Fleur’s mother had summarily dismissed them as they all traipsed up from the basement dining room of the charming French restaurant near the National Gallery Hermione’s parents knew, they didn’t need telling twice. The conversation thus far had been mortifying, and they’re both eager to get away form the nightmare that is the combined powers of their parents. They offer to meet back up for tea in a few hours, and disappear off to the cinema, where they sit in the very back row leaning on each other and sob through the ending together.

Firmly believes in couples costumes

Hermione hates fancy dress parties and balls, but after the war they become all the rage within her friends group. Something about going out as someone else appeals to so many of them, as they’ve all been forced to be celebrities despite their best efforts to avoid the spotlight. Harry and Ginny always go as famous quidditch players with period-appropriate gear and think they’re terribly original. Hermione lets herself be talked into floor length gowns and togas and, one memorable time, a full pirate costume by Fleur. She wears what she’s told and when Fleur finds a way to use the costumes to drive her wild throughout the night with slips of skin and lingering touches, Hermione doesn’t have any cause to complain.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas

The ring, when it does come, is presented on Christmas morning at Fleur’s parents’ house in full view of Fleur’s mother and grandmother. Gabrielle is distracted with a new book from her father and Phillipe has been drawn into explaining some of the diagrams at the back of it. Fleur holds out the small box to Hermione with some trepidation, looking from her mother to grandmother. “Oh just give it to her Fleur,” her grandmother finally snaps. “You’ve waited long enough.”

"Fleur?” Hermione asks.

“You once gave me the soul of the world,” Fleur says quietly.

“Because it never ends,” Hermione breathes. Her fingers tremble as she opens the box. The ring is beautiful, and when Fleur puts in on her finger it feels as though Hermione’s come home after a long, long time away.

Makes the other eat breakfast

“You need to eat, chérie,” Fleur says.

Hermione, where she’s been pacing up and down the length of the flat, looks to where Fleur’s standing in the kitchen holding out an energy bar. “I can’t,” she says. “If I eat I’ll get sick and I have to pass this exam today or I will never get the job at St. Mungo’s.”

Fleur’s lips press together into a thin line. She steps into the path of Hermione’s pacing and places her hands on Hermione’s shoulders. “You already have the job at St. Mungo’s. You know as well as I do that Blacks do not stick their necks out for just anyone. If Andromeda says you’re ready, you’re ready.”

Hermione opens her mouth to protest, but she knows Fleur’s right. Her teeth click as she closes her mouth.

Fleur’s expression softens. “Now, please, eat.”

Remembers anniversaries

It’s late February when Hermione suggests they go out somewhere nice. Fleur smiles fondly from her translation. “What’s the occasion?”

“You kissed me for the first time five years ago today.”

Brings up having kids

“There are potions for that, Healer Granger, if you’re at all interested in such things.”

Hermione splutters, nearly spitting her coffee out as she stares across the breakroom table at Andromeda. “Why Healer Tonks,” she says, picking her words carefully. She’s been lamenting to her colleague that Fleur’s mentioned children for the third time in as many weeks and it’s about to turn into a conversation. “Are you offering to brew for me?”

“Well, I was going to offer my sister’s services,” Andromeda says, sipping her tea. “She’s been complaining to me that she’s bored now that the divorce has gone through.”

Hermione does spit out her coffee this time. “I will not have your sister brewing--”

“Merlin, Hermione, you’re far too easy.”

#fleurmione #fanfic #this was a lot #casual homage to Freckle

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iammarylastar · 5 years

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Jai and Nat's interview for Forbes

“We had planned to build a boot camp situation and get to know each other slowly and hang out. We wanted to build and find that trust in those relationships,” Jai Courtney explained as he discussed the reality of making indie drama, Semper Fi. “Through the nature of independent filmmaking and everyone’s schedules, we ended up having to meet on a Saturday and started filming on the following Tuesday. We had a couple of nights to figure it out, but that was pretty lean, to say the least.”

The 33-year-old plays Callahan, a police officer and serving member in the Marine Corps Reserves. He’s faced with a big dilemma, helping his brother who is behind bars. His brother, Oyster, is played by Nat Wolff.

“The crazy part was Jai and I met one time in Los Angeles,” Wolff added. “We went out bowling, because our characters bowl, we got drunk, and we started saying things to each other in that conversation that we hadn’t even said to some of our closest friends. There was something about my connection with Jai. We talked about things in our upbringings, in our families, and in our lives that made it like it was meant to be for us to play brothers. I still have that brotherly connection with him.”

Both actors have similar approaches to their careers, and both have worked across indie and big-budget productions.

Wolff explained: “For me, it’s really about where I’m finding the projects that I’m enjoying the most. I’ve never been a good predictor of the business or what’s going to be the best trajectory career-wise, and, honestly, if I start thinking that way, it makes me not want to be in this business anymore.”

“I read a lot of scripts, and frankly, I’m bored by most of them. I have to say that most scripts are full of tropes, they’re set up to make money, and that’s not me being cynical, that’s just being realistic. Finding interesting writing with a good team assembled can be a bit of a miracle; having the experience of the project live up to the image of it that you had in your head. Semper Fi is one of those rare examples. I think it’s also harder to market a movie that doesn’t tell you exactly what it is. A lot of people who have seen it said to me that from the trailer, they didn’t know what kind of movie it was going to be, but people are being moved by it. I don’t know if I’ve experienced anything like it since The Fault in Our Stars, something that created tears and emotions, that had people feeling this personal connection to it.”

“The last couple of years have been mostly smaller stuff, but for me, it is more about the role, the project, and the people I’m working with,” explained Courtney.” I don’t have an aversion to either end of the spectrum. The pace is usually what I notice the most. Sometimes I enjoy it more working with less because you have to think on your feet, there’s less time absorbed by the things that you have to create like colossal action set pieces or whatever. That said, it’s also awesome to break up the rhythm and come and do something like The Suicide Squad, where it’s a project with a huge budget, and you’re doing crazy outlandish, preposterous stuff that is a ton of fun.”

Both Wolff and Courtney have worked across the small and big screen, embracing a wide range of projects across wildly varying budget levels.

“Sometimes the more interesting stuff might be less commercial, so you take more financial risks, but it’s harder for those things to get seen, to find a home. The way that TV is shaping up, and how streaming platforms have shifted things, it’s a positive,” Courtney enthused. “It’s not something I’d be afraid of at all. Working in that medium could sometimes give you a chance to develop a character in a way that you can’t in cinema, and that can be a really exciting thing for an actor. I mean working long-form, getting to stay within a world for longer, and keep exploring it is exciting to me, and audiences are responding to that too. It’s not a case of one or the other. We can have both.”

Semper Fi is the latest movie to follow an increasingly popular trend of being released theatrically and on VOD on the same day.

Courtney mused: “There’s so much content being made, and we’re constantly exploring new ideas and approaches for pushing that out to audiences. I think it’s a really exciting time. It’s crazy because I think that it’s a tough time for the film industry. There are certain types of films that people are going to see en masse. For a movie like Semper Fi, it’s an interesting time. This is a classic throwback kind of story. It’ll find an audience.”

“All the people that like this kind of movie will seek it out and love it, but there’s a generation of people who are probably not so attached to this kind of storytelling. They’re a little more attracted to movies that have a lot of moving pieces. It’s a hard time to get a film like this made, but I’m glad we did it, and I’m proud of it. I hope we continue to see stories like this get made.”

Courtney was on the phone from the set of The Suicide Squad, the sequel (also considered a soft reboot) to the maligned 2016 movie, Suicide Squad. He’s reprising the role of George “Digger” Harkness, aka Captain Boomerang. The original film cost $175 million to make and grossed $746.8 million at the worldwide box office. It also won an Oscar.

“We’re in our second week of shooting now. I think it’s going to be fantastic. I know it will,” Courtney confirmed. “It’s great. It’s different now, obviously, but it’s a lot of fun. It’s awesome to see some old friends and familiar faces, but I’m looking forward to seeing a whole dimension unfold, which includes the introduction of a bunch of new people. It’s one of those things that we’ve waited for, and we weren’t even sure it was going to happen at a certain point. So, if anything, it’s just great to be back, and it’s good to put the gold tooth back in.”

Meanwhile, Wolff has recently been announced as being cast in a new TV adaptation of Stephen King’s classic, The Stand.

“If my first real foray into horror is Stephen King, then it doesn’t get much better than that. The Stand is epic. There is no better horror book,” he enthused.

But what, bearing in mind his accomplished and diverse resume of work so far, hasn’t the musician and actor managed to do yet that he wants to?

“I really want to play Paul Westerberg. Josh Boone, who directed The Fault in Our Stars, has Trouble Boys, the book about The Replacements, and he has me attached to that. To play Westerberg would be a dream of mine,” he concluded. “I’ve been working on that movie, and I am excited for it to come to fruition, but maybe that’s bad luck saying that out loud? I don’t know. Hopefully, it will happen soon. I’m very excited about that.”

#jai courtney #nat wolff #semper fi movie #semper fi #beau knapp #beautiful bastard #finn wittrock

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t0ngue-tech · 5 years

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Binding Force

“Yuanfen is the fate, chance or binding force that brings this person and other people or objects together.”

↠angst, soulmateAU, based on this AU i found on pinterest (obvi i made some changes huhu)↞

word count: 12.6 k OH MY GOD

↠oneshot↞

A/N: hi everyone! ive been working on this for a while and i finally brought myself to finish it! enjoy ^-^

“And then let’s end the last hour in your dorm! How does that sound?”

“Perfect babe. Just perfect.”

In a few hours, Park Jimin was going to celebrate his 21st birthday and not only could he finally purchase alcohol legally and go to bars, he was going to be entering the long-awaited Yuanfen.

Yuanfen was a special moment in time for someone who was turning 21 because it meant the entire universe was going to freeze for 24 hours except for the birthday celebrant and their soulmate. The entire world was their oyster and excited was an understatement for Jimin and his girlfriend, Momo.

Jimin and Momo had been dating since Jimin’s sophomore year of high school while Momo was a freshman. They were close with each other’s families, they got accepted into the same university, and after dating for so long, they believed that they were meant to be. A lot of their friends believed it as well and no one could ever imagine them dating other people.

But, of course, they didn’t want to celebrate Jimin’s 21st birthday without their friends.

The university had a bar-like-lounge off-campus two blocks away from the main building that students frequented to and they all chipped in to rent one of the sections off to celebrate Jimin’s birthday there. Thankfully, his birthday landed on a friday and no one of their friends had a class on Saturday which meant they could drink till their hearts’ content.

“Something tells me Jungkook did something headass like make decorations of all the derp selfies I ever took.” Jimin held the door open for Momo and placed a hand on her lower back.

“I think you’re over exaggerating.” Momo grabbed onto Jimin’s hand and guided him through a section of tables, chairs, and clusters of people.

In a few more feet, Jimin could see photos of his head scrunched down until his chin reached his chest taped onto the wall and he stopped in his tracks. “Babe.” He sighed in defeat.

“What? I think you look handsome.” Momo gave him a peck on his cheek and pulled him by the hem of his shirt, leading him to the back room where all of the decorations were.

Once they stepped out of the walkway, streamers and confetti popped from either side of him and their friends, who were wearing homemade masks of Jimin’s derp selfies, all shouted at the same time, “Happy birthday, Jimin!”

↠↞

“Jungkook, you think you’re funny, huh?” Jimin ripped off the mask of his friend and put him into a headlock.

“Ow—ow! Hey! We all decided on this—even Momo!” Jungkook tapped out, constantly swatting at the sleeve of Jimin’s leather jacket.

“But whose big idea was it?”

“It was me and Jungkook’s.” You emerged from the side and attempted to help Jungkook who was still struggling to escape Jimin’s clutches. “Happy birthday!”

Jimin laughed and tossed Jungkook aside to wrap his arms around you. Jungkook, on the other hand, argued about how he let you off the hook instead of gathering you into a headlock. But you two weren’t listening.

“Where’s Taeyong?” Jimin asked.

“He’s buying another bottle of liquor just in case.” You emphasized the word ‘just’ as you fixed up his leather jacket. “I see you’re still enjoying my birthday present from last year.”

“Yes and thank you again. It goes well with a lot of my shirt.” Jimin show cased the white v-neck he wore underneath his leather jacket, striking poses as if there were paparazzi in the room.

“Y/n!” Momo jumped onto you, smothering you in a tight hug. “I fucking missed you! I haven’t seen you since midterms started.”

Momo was a dear friend of yours. You’ve known her since middle school and actually, you were the one who introduced her to your photography partner in yearbook back in freshman year. She profusely thanked you for introducing her to Jimin as the years went on and they were in a relationship. As a thank you, she introduced you to Lee Taeyong, a friend of hers from the dance team. This led to you and Taeyong dating since your sophomore year of high school.

The four of you were almost always together because Taeyong and Jimin became close friends through you and Momo. Your friendship only deepen because you all applied to the same university. There was complete trust between the four of you which meant that Momo didn’t mind if you hung out with Jimin and vise versa.

“After midterms, you and I need to go out and get a fucking drink together.” You gently spun her around, being cautious of her heels. “I hope you don’t mind if I steal her away from you for a bit, Jimin. She was mine first.”

Jimin smiled and gave you the ‘okay’. You walked towards a table, arm in arm with Momo, that carried all of the alcohol. It was going to be an amazing night, you could feel it in your bones.

Almost two hours had passed and within those two hours, Taeyong showed up with two more bottles of alcohol, Jungkook was already drunk and kissed Jimin on the cheek, twice, and Jimin was already five shots and multiple mixed drinks in.

Jimin was now sipping some water trying to sober up to be in the right mindset just in time for Yuanfen. He glanced around the room, satisfied that all of his friends were enjoying themselves.

Jungkook was trying to steal all of the snacks away from Seokjin, Taemin was pouring up another round of shots for Seulgi, Yoongi, and Namjoon, and You were sitting on Taeyong’s lap while Momo sat on yours. He was celebrating with a colorful group of friends that he wouldn’t for anything else in this world.

He found himself daydreaming about the full 24 hours he was going to have with Momo. The entire world around them was going to be put on pause and he was looking forward to wreak havoc on campus and certain parts of the entire dormitory with his soulmate.

“Baby.” Momo joined Jimin on the sofa and cuddled into his side, wrapping her arms around his torso. “Only five more minutes.”

Jimin kissed her forehead and squeezed her shoulder. “Why don’t we leave early, hm?”

She tilted her head to place light kisses all over his neck. “I think you need to calm your hormones for five more minutes.”

He snickered at the feeling of Momo’s lips tickling his skin. “How can I calm down when you’re dressed so beautifully?”

It already seemed like the world stopped around them because no matter where they were, Jimin only had eyes for Momo. He didn’t mind the people around them. The only thing that mattered to him whenever he was spending time with his girlfriend was his girlfriend and his girlfriend only.

“You two only have a couple of minutes left, keep it PG, please?!” Seulgi faked her gag and shielded her eyes.

“Cut us some slack!” Momo yelled back with a smile over the loud music.

Jimin looked at his phone and watched as 11:58 PM turned into 11:59 PM. There were still a lot of people who were enjoying their drinks in the lounge and all of his friends were constantly checking their phones and watches, shooting quick glances at him and Momo with suggestive smiles on their faces.

The last minute felt like an eternity and Jimin placed a hand on Momo’s knee. On an impulse, he cupped her cheek and gazed into her eyes.

“I love you.” Jimin said breathlessly.

“I love you, Jimin.” Momo raised her chin, capturing his lips in between hers.

Once their lips touched and eyes fluttered closed, there was the sound of a wind chime ringing throughout Jimin’s head. Something inside of him rattled inside of his chest and that feeling only meant one thing: it was Yuanfen.

Jimin was almost too excited to open his eyes, but he knew he had to stop kissing Momo at some point. He extracted himself away from her face and slowly, he opened his eyes until snapping them wide open.

At first he thought this was apart of the entire process of entering Yuanfen; the birthday celebrant would enter first and after maybe after a few minutes, their soulmate would enter too. But two minutes passed and Momo had her lips protruding out and eyes were still closed.

“M-Momo?” Panic shot right through Jimin’s body and he instinctively reached out to grab her hand, but even after doing so, Momo remained still.

This wasn’t happening.

Momo and Jimin ultimately believed with their whole heart that they were soulmates. They were supposed to be leaving the lounge right about now to raid the school’s cafeteria of their cookie dough ice cream sandwiches.

There had to be some sort of mistake.

“Tae-Taeyong?!”

Jimin didn’t realize that the music of the lounge was also put on pause until another voice bled out into the atmosphere; it wasn’t Momo’s.

Like his entire world was moving in slow motion, Jimin turned his direction to where the voice came from and found you roughly holding Taeyong’s face in your hands. He was stuck in a mid-laugh type of expression with you still balancing on his thigh.

“Taeyong, what—?”

“Y/n.” He called out and at the speed of light, you darted your attention towards and he noticed a panicked look in your eye.

↠↞

What in the actual fuck was happening?

You were sitting on the lap of Taeyong, your boyfriend, whom you loved with all of your heart. He was just telling you a hilarious story that happened in his economic class and next thing you knew, there was a delicate ringing sound inside your head. Every movement and sound was put on pause, everything but you.

You waited for Taeyong to finish his story and it finally clicked that he was frozen. Why was he frozen? Why were you able to move your limbs to clutch his face? It took you awhile, but you found your voice and called out Taeyong’s name. He still wasn’t answering. There had to be something incredibly wrong because the silence was deafening until the urgent sound sound of your name was being dispatched from across the room. To your shock, you were staring into the desperate eyes of Park Jimin.

“What time is it?” Jimin asked quietly.

“Um—“ You reached into your back pocket for your phone and with a barely audible tone you said, “12:06 AM.”

“B-But Momo is—“ He frantically looked back and forth from you to Momo. “Is this really Yuanfen?”

You climbed off of Taeyong’s lap and took another look around the room. You even walked out into the bar area where the other booths and tables were. All of the patrons were stuck in time; some were even tilting their head back to down a shot.

“Everyone is fucking frozen, Jimin.” You walked back into the room and Jimin was pacing back and forth trying to get one of their friends’ attention.

“This doesn’t make sense.” Jimin sighed, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Yuanfen is for soulmates. Momo and I—We—“

You could tell Jimin was trying to find the right words to say without offending you. “I know, Jimin. I love Taeyong so much. He’s my boyfriend and he’s—“ You walked over to Taeyong who still didn’t budge. “We can’t really be… you know… right?”

How could you say it? It was one word, two syllables and saying it would only make you feel guilty.

Your chest was starting to feel tight and tears welled up in your eyes. There was a point in your relationship where you also gave the idea of being soulmates with Taeyong some deep thought. You two had a late night conversation about what you wanted to do when Taeyong turns 21. He wore a bright facial expression as you two talked and it was clear that he also believed that you were his soulmate. But now that whole idea was crumbling at your feet and the pieces were too small to pick up and put back together.

Park Jimin was not your soulmate. He couldn’t be.

“This is fucking crazy. There has to be a loophole in this.” Jimin sat back down and whipped his phone out.

You carefully sat down next to him to peer down at his phone. He was googling something about Yuanfen and if it was possible to get soulmates mixed up.

It was always easy to sit beside Jimin. There was never a time where you felt uncomfortable around him except now. You kept enough space in between the two of you and looking at him started to hurt.

“Nothing.” Jimin tossed his phone to the side and buried his face in his hands. “There has been no cases about people having the wrong soulmate, Apparently the people who thought they had a different soulmate ended up marrying the one who they were with on Yuanfen—”

“Stop, Jimin. Please.” You stood up and rubbed your temples.

Hearing the word marriage made you squirm. Marrying Jimin? No offense, but you wouldn’t. He was like a brother-in-law because you treated Momo like a sister.

Oh, god. Momo.

Momo was a sister to you and if she found out that you were Jimin’s soulmate and not her…

“What are we supposed to do, Jimin?” You walked over to Momo and gently tugged at a strand of her hair.

Jimin blew out a breath and stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Let’s go outside for now. We need some air.”

He walked out first and you were hesitant in following him, not wanting to leave Taeyong, but he was right. Being in that room was suffocating you and you need to get away from it.

↠↞

The outside was no different than the lounge; students who were walking were stuck in one spot and cars were stopped. The only thing that wasn’t frozen was the cold air and brushed against Jimin’s face. He looked around and took a deep breath. Was it wrong to wish that he was dreaming?

You were a great girl; excellent grades, passionate about the things you loved, and selfless. He was always inspired to continue his dream to become a doctor because even if being a lawyer was going to take years of education, you were determined to become one. Despite all of these things, Jimin was in love with Momo. He has been for years and it didn’t make sense to drop every single day he spent loving her just because the beholders of true love turned the hands of fate onto you.

“Why the fuck is it so cold? It was nothing like this this morning.” You emerged from the lounge, tugging at your sweater sleeves to cover your hands.

“Well, the sun is hiding.” Jimin watched his breath dissipate into thin air.

You chuckled and stood inches away from Jimin. “So… what did you two have planned besides the obvious.”

Jimin laughed because he knew what you meant by ‘the obvious’. “Uh, escaping onto the rooftops and lots of eating. Starting off with the cookie dough ice cream sandwiches from the cafeteria.”

“It’s freezing and you two were gonna eat ice cream?”

It did sound absurd but there was a reason. “Yeah, it’s uh-it’s her favorite flavor so…”

You nodded and kicked a stray rock onto the asphalt road.

“Do you want to go to the cafeteria? Hopefully there’s a stock on the orange creamsicles you like.” The offer Jimin made sort of came out on an impulse. He didn’t want to spend his birthday doing nothing and if you two avoided the whole being-each-other’s-soulmate a while longer, maybe doing things with you wouldn’t be so bad.

“Uh-yeah. Yeah, sure.” Jimin was a bit afraid you were going to reject the idea, but was relieved at your willingness to go.

↠↞

“At least it’s warm in here.” You wrapped up the fourth popsicle stick inside the napkin that contained the rest of the trash you two had.

The cafeteria was pretty much barren. There were only a few students who were having breakfast for dinner at different tables across the room. You were sitting across from each other on top of one of the empty tables. Thankfully there were still a lot of ice cream choices left inside of the freezer and you took advantage of the situation by taking handfuls of the orange creamsicles.

“You’re not hungry?” You questioned.

“Kind of. I thought the alcohol and all of those snacks you guys bought would’ve kept me full for a while.” Jimin leaned back on his hands and looked over to whatever the students were eating; cereal, french toast, and some were eating whatever what served during dinner.

“I could cook you something.” You tried to peer behind some of the counters to get a view of the kitchen. “Considering this ordeal, I can whip up something in the kitchen.”

“What is this? My birthday gift?” Jimin laughed it off because he knew you were way too busy to go out into the city to get him a birthday gift.

“It could be. If that’s what you really want.” You hopped off the table and trailed towards the kitchen.

Jimin let you walk off a couple of feet before silently following behind you. You’ve cooked for him a few times-mainly instant ramen or fried rice. Other times, you would bake cookies for Momo whenever you had time to go home during the weekends and she’d share with Jimin.

“I’ll take the food, but not as a gift.” He looked around the kitchen as you opened up cupboards, trying to find something decent to cook.

“How about pasta? Judging by some of the prepped ingredients, it seems like this was going to be tomorrow’s dinner.” You pulled out bowls of minced garlic and parsley. “Looks like shrimp linguine.”

Jimin gave you a thumbs up and propped himself on an empty counter space. There were student chefs still inside of the kitchen but they were mainly cleaning up pots and pans and taking back leftovers. The world was still silent besides the sounds of you opening the refrigerator and placing glass bowls on the counter, so he turned on some jazz music on a quiet volume to make the space feel cozier. You smiled at the familiar tune and turned on the stove to heat up water for pasta.

“I hope you don’t mind a simple white sauce. Alfredo would be best but I don’t know how to make that shit.” You confessed.

“You can make white sauce?” Jimin asked with a raised eyebrow.

You tossed a pinch of salt in his direction and smirked. “Watch me.”

↠↞

The early-early breakfast was honestly… lovely.

It’s been a while since you had a one on one meal with Jimin and you two shared a hefty conversation about how school was going for the both of you. The pasta you made turned out to be exquisite and he expressed how impressed he was about how well you were able to cook. You joked about making him garlic butter steak next time because it was your father’s favorite dish that you made for him, but you weren’t prepared for how quick Jimin agreed to try it.

Jimin complained about how much he wanted to perfect his cooking skills so he could stop spending a lot of money on pizza and burgers as a late night snack. Although you weren’t perfect yourself, you offered for him to shadow you if he ever also decided to visit his family on weekends. At some point, during dinner, some of the topics you two had touched up sounded a lot more friendlier than usual.

Casually inviting him over to your house to teach him how to cook the dishes you took pride in was already a red flag in treading rough waters. You’ve hung out with Jimin a lot especially with Momo, but the only time you two ever independently spent time together was in college; studying, sharing a snack during a one hour break in between classes.

Jimin washed the dishes you two used as well as whatever pots and pans you used to cook everything; you didn’t take a lot of the ingredients so it would go unnoticed.

“Do you think the time of day changes during Lover’s Day?” You joined Jimin outside, still pulling your sleeves own past your fingers.

“I’m pretty sure. Why?” Jimin watched you shield yourself from the cold. “Ah. Here.” He stripped himself of the leather jacket and handed it to you.

“No, Jimin. I’m fine, I swear.”

“At least wear it for now, we can head to my dorm to get you another jacket since it’s closer than yours.”

You stared at his jacket and gave it some thought.

Maybe up to his dorm won’t be too bad.

Well—

Okay, maybe it was bad.

Jimin’s roommate wasn’t in the dorm because he left early to go home for the weekend. You unzipped your combat boots and hopped on top of Jimin’s bed.

His dorm was neater than you remember. Even during the chaotic week of midterms, his desk was more put together than yours and your roommate put together. Despite random t-shirts and sweaters that were hanging over his bed frame, Jimin’s side of the room seemed so Jimin.

“Take your pick.” Jimin held his hand out to the portion of jackets and sweaters of his closet space.

“Hmm…” You stared at the section a little until a familiar navy blue and yellow cuffed varsity jacket caught your attention. “Oh my god, that’s our high school’s varsity!” With a beaming smile, you jumped off his bed and walked over to caress the fabric in between your fingers.

“Yeah, four years at that hellhole and I still can’t bring myself to toss it out.” Jimin retrieved the jacket from its hanger and handed it over for you to wear.

You chuckled and proceeded to remove his leather jacket to wear the other one. “Four years and I still question myself why I never bought one.”

Jimin’s mouth gaped. “What?! You’re serious? Whose jacket were you wearing during high school?”

“Uh, Tae...yong…” His name fell from your lips like stones. What a perfect time for you to mention his name.

“Oh.” Jimin said flatly. “Yeah, of course.”

This wasn’t good.

You needed to say something, anything, because you didn’t want to have a conversation about love and soulmates at that moment.

“I—uh, I had to repurchase a varsity three times.” Thankfully, Jimin quickly continued the conversation towards a different route.

“You spent a total of 75 dollars for the same jacket on three separate occasions?!” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Jimin chuckled and walked towards his bed with you following behind him. “During spring fest during my freshman and sophomore year, I spilled paint when I was helping out with the banners. And the third time was during a food fight the seniors were having when I was a junior and I got nailed with all sorts of food.”

Jimin continued his story with more details. Within the conversation, you made yourself comfortable, lying down on his bed while he sat cross legged at near your feet. While talking, you noticed that he played with the stray thread of your socks that stuck out by your ankles.

“I like your socks.” He commented.

“Thanks.” You stared at your yellow Winnie the Pooh socks. “There’s a store near the bistro that sells super cute stationery, hair accessories, and even socks.” You stuck one foot in the air and wiggled your toes inside the cloth.

Jimin took hold of your ankle and rested it on his knee and examined the chibi characters of Pooh and his friends. You held your breath and continually told yourself to fucking cool it. This wasn’t out of the ordinary. The only thing missing was Momo’s ankle resting on his other knee and Taeyong’s lap for your head to be resting on.

How were you supposed to adjust to this? What were the two of you going to tell Taeyong and Momo? You could already imagine the pained expression of your best friend and the absolute devastation of your boyfriend.

This was all a dream. You kept telling yourself this. It was a dream.

↠↞

Five minutes passed and Jimin could feel a slight numbing pain in his right shoulder. He wriggled around and slowly opened his eyes, unaware of his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was slumping over a couple of inches away from your body while you dozed off. He could hear the faint sound of you breathing and it finally occurred to him exactly where he was.

Jimin had a clear view of a navy blue fabric and his arm. He realized that the navy blue fabric came from the jacket he let you borrow and that his arm slung over it.

In basic terms, he was cuddling you at your stomach area.

In a state of panic, Jimin gasped and reeled his arm back which prompted him to roll onto his back. But, he forgot that he was near the edge of his bed and rolling onto his back resulted in him landing flat onto the floor. The loud impact of his body and the floor caused you to flinch awake.

“Oh my god.” You rasped and sat up. “Oh my god!”

Jimin clawed at his sheet to get himself back on his feet and you scrambled up to assist him. “What happened?!”

“Well, I was just lying there and uh, I had that free falling dream. Right when I hit the ground in my dream, bam! My actual body exploded and I actually ended up on the ground here.” Jimin stammered and rubbed the back of his head.

You gave him a questionable stare before reaching out to check for any bumps on his head. “Jimin, you have a bump. Do you have any frozen items in your mini fridge?”

“No, sorry.” He winced touching the bump on the upper right part of his forehead. “But, the main fridge on this floor should have something.”

“Say no more. Let’s hurry to stop the swelling.” Instead of grabbing his leather jacket for Jimin to wear, you snatched a stray maroon sweater that hung off his bed.

Jimin lazily slid his shoes back on and was hastily tugged out of his room with your hand wrapped around his own.

“What time is it?” Jimin held a frozen hot pocket against the bump and blew on his cup of tea.

In the main gathering room of his floor of the dormitory, there was a living room with a large tv where most of the students gathered to play video games or watch netflix and a decent sized kitchen.

Students would normally label any food or drinks that belonged to them and sometimes there would be snacks that were labeled “for all” which was obviously for anybody who wanted it. There were boxes of instant coffee, hot chocolate, and teas that were meant for everybody and you brewed a cup of tea for each of you.

“It’s about,” you took a moment to check your phone. “9 am.”

Jimin choked on his tea. 9 am?! He swore only five minutes passed from when he woke up.

“Shit. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I was.” Jimin said, calming down from his fit of coughs.

“You and me both. It still feels like my feet are about to fall off from standing up majority of the night.” You strolled over to the couch where Jimin sat with your cup of tea in hand. Jimin noticed you were wearing a pair of his slides instead of your combat boots; probably from when you were rushing to leave his room.

“I bet.” Jimin chuckled. “How long did it take you guys to set up everything at the lounge?”

Jimin listened intently as you told stories about how there were many close calls where you and Jungkook almost ripped each other’s heads off. This was mainly because of the miscommunication on who had kept the derp pictures of Jimin and who held onto the money for alcohol and snacks.

Another hour had passed and Jimin spent laughing almost to the brink of tears with you. Everything felt natural, almost too natural. For a split second, Jimin forgot what Yuanfen was all about.

“Are you sure the bump is gone?”

Before he knew it, you two cleaned up and abandoned Jimin’s dorm to take a walk around campus.

The students from last night were still in the same position. The only things that changed were the weather and the time of day. You were a bit ignorant about Yuanfen, so Jimin took the time to explain some basics about the hidden holiday.

Yuanfen was a whole different world only to be seen through the eyes of the soulmates, so once the day is over, everything goes back to normal.

Once everything goes back to normal, the day restarts and the memories of other bystanders remain what they were prior to being frozen in time.

As for the soulmates, Jimin chose to omit that information.

“Yes, I’m sure! Let me just check again just to make sure.” You stepped in front of Jimin and gently felt around his forehead and then traced your fingers through his hair to feel around for any bumps you may have missed.

He wasn’t sure when he started, but Jimin found himself staring into your eyes. How was this even possible? How were you his soulmate and not Momo, his high school sweetheart? But maybe, even just for a couple of hours, he could possibly see what it’s like if you were his—

“You’re good to go, Jimin.” You poked the center of his head, capturing his attention.

“Oh, yeah, great. Thanks.” He smiled shyly.

↠↞

There was nothing like a crisp fall morning; cool breeze, crunchy burnt orange leaves, and warm drinks. Your walk around the campus turned into a complete turn around towards your dormitory to get a cup of coffee—you both were obviously in an area with coffee however, the idea of walking all the way back to Jimin’s dorm felt like a hassle.

“Sorry about the mess. Dahyun and I have been way too busy to clean.” You rushed from your door to tidy up as much as you could.

“Hey, it’s no problem. It’s fine. You saw my place.” Jimin lightly placed his hands on your shoulders to gently pulled you back.

You patted the back of his hands and walked over to a side table that carried a microwave, a keurig, and a rack for k-pods.

“There’s vanilla creamer in the mini fridge underneath my bed and feel free to grab a snack.” You handed Jimin his cup of medium roast. “We also have some ramen bowls underneath Dahyun’s bed. She won’t mind, trust me.”

The last meal you two shared was the pasta you made last night and now it was the next morning and you two were going to have another meal with another form of noodles.

Normal. Things were still feeling normal, nothing awkward. You were having an innocent breakfast with your best friend’s boyfriend when in fact, he’s actually your soulmate. Yeah. Perfectly normal.

You glanced up and soaked in the image of Jimin harmlessly mixing around his ramen.

Was Jimin cute? Of course. Was he smart? Yes. Funny? Also yes. Was he perfect boyfriend material? Yes—but maybe, maybe not for you.

How could you possibly get used to this? You couldn’t shake the thought of Momo being incredibly heart broken. And of course, how in the world were you going to tell Taeyong?! You loved him. What were things going to be like if you told him about this?

“So…” you started off softly. “What are we going to do?”

“About our plans for today?” Jimin asked innocently.

You laughed and sucked in a quiet breath. “Yeah. Yeah, what should we do?”

Jimin took a sip of his coffee and looked up to your ceiling in search of an answer.

“Oh!” He clapped his hands, scaring you a little. “Let’s go to the frat house and raid their kitchen!”

“Ooh, let’s do it! You know, I heard that they have a whole ass stash of ramen bowls and coffee.” You mentioned.

Jimin widened his eyes as he lifted his chopsticks into his mouth. “I wonder what else they got?”

As Jimin spewed out a few snack items that he was hoping the frat house would have, you felt yourself zoning out.

Jimin really is cute.

It was such a horrible thing for you to think of at this moment, but you always knew how cute he was but was he always this cute?

God, this was stupid. You were only having these thoughts because of stupid Yuanfen. This hidden holiday was messing up the wires in your head making you see Jimin in a whole new different light. This was probably a sign to try and see where things could go with him. It was a scary thought, but you did wonder.

“Y/n?”

“Huh? What?” You blinked out of your daze.

“What else do you think they have stashed there?”

Quick. Think fast. Pretend you were paying attention.

“Uh—uh, c-condoms?”

Great. Out of all things, y/n.

Jimin stared blankly at you with his mouth slightly open.

“Y-Yeah. Condoms. Those are, uh, those could possibly exist there.”

The air around you began to feel stale. Seriously, out of all the things you could’ve said—you just had to say condoms!

“So,” you coughed. “I also heard from Wonho that Hani and Suho have the Scholar’s Edition to the Pre-Med and Pre-Law class textbooks!”

Jimin’s eyes lit up and nearly choked on his coffee. “Those things almost cost as much as two classes!”

You gave him a big smile thinking about how it would be you two to get excited over textbooks.

“Exactly! So, while we’re at the frat house…”

“Y/n, isn’t that stealing?”

You paused for a brief second. “N-no. We’re just borrowing them. We’ll photocopy the pages and then we’ll just return them tonight.”

Jimin nodded his head in agreement and took the empty ramen bowls. “Sounds perfect.”

Noon came around in the blink of an eye and you two were trotting down campus towards the frat house. You’ve been to the house a few times, only to attend parties with Taeyong.

The frat house was honestly incredible. A large kitchen, arcade games, and a basketball court right out back. A lot of money was spent to make the house what it was and it was quite obvious.

There was a party last night and there were still people hanging around the stairs and on the main floor, not to mention people sitting on other people’s laps. You both weaved around the sea of students in search of Suho and Hani’s room. Jimin reminded you to slowly open the doors just in case you were to walk in a freeze frame of two people having sex; if only he told you that prior to entering the house.

“God, I just saw someone’s bare ass.” You closed one of the doors behind you and slid your back down the door.

“That bad?” Jimin asked.

“Not only did I see ass, I saw legs thrown over shoulders.” You shuddered and covered your face with your hands.

Jimin chucked and pulled you back up onto your feet. “Come on, shaky. You’ll survive.” He squished your cheeks together before giving you a little nudge to keep moving forward.

After carefully snooping around for fifteen minutes, the textbooks were found and now it was time to raid the kitchen. You were surprised at how neat the kitchen was considering how much people lived in the house. On top of the cabinets, packages of ramen bowls and other microwavable food were stacked neatly. You climbed on top of the counter to grab a decent amount to refill both you and Jimin’s dorm rooms. Honestly, you were kind of scared because you were pretty much stealing. You’ll be fine right?

“Oh hell yes, they have honey butter chips!”

You looked down and spotted Jimin rummaging through a cupboard. He pulled out four bags and smiled brightly.

“Did you get the goods?” Jimin grabbed a random reusable bag to stuff the snacks inside.

Still standing on the counter, you gently tossed the ramen and other foods towards Jimin who needed one more reusable bag. Jimin stood by the counter and stuck his hand out to help you get down.

Why were you so nervous?

Y/n, relax. He’s just trying to fucking help you.

You reached out to hold onto his hand. You crouched down to carefully place your feet one by one on the floor, but even with being careful, you still managed to misplace your foot.

“Whoa, I got you.” Jimin grabbed your waist and pulled you flush to his body.

Your face was way too close to his own and you made the terrible decision to lock eyes with Jimin. His eyes twinkled in the natural sunlight beaming through the window. A foreign look was glazed over his eyes and your breath was caught in your throat.

“I—Thanks, Jimin.” You pushed yourself away from him. He still had a hold on your hand and as you walked towards the bags of snacks, his fingers slipped gently out of your grasp.

What the fuck is happening?!

There was a hundred percent chance that you were blushing, so you examined the packaged goods to calm yourself for a few seconds.

“Shall we go to the library to photocopy the book?” Jimin spoke.

“Yeah, let’s.” You turned and found Jimin’s back facing you. He seemed to be interested in the colorful refrigerator magnets. “Jimin?”

↠↞

What am I doing? Why did I do that? Fuck.

Jimin stared at an empty spot on the white refrigerator door and covered the lower half of his face with his hand.

This has to be cheating right? Momo’s my girlfriend but in the end, y/n is my—

“Jimin?”

“Sorry, yeah. Let’s go.” Jimin squeezed his eyes shut for a second and turned back to you to hold the bags.

After the ordeal, there was an awkward tension between the two of you and this was the last thing Jimin needed. It was only the afternoon and he still had the rest of the day to spend with you. If he was a horrible person, he would’ve suggested to spend time individually but he was a good person. He didn’t have the heart to leave you on your own.

The library was pretty much empty of students, only the still bodies of the staff were present. The copy machine was located on the fourth floor and it was a ghost town. Not one single person was on the floor. How much more awkward could it get?

“I think I’m going to the first six chapters because this medical book has about,” Jimin stared at the table of contents. “Eleven chapters.”

“Ugh. This stupid book has twenty chapters. Do I really want to become a lawyer? The chapters are way too long.” You sunk down onto the floor.

Jimin chuckled and booted up the machine. “Tell me about it. This pre-med book is pretty small but it costs so much.”

The awkward tension was slowly melting as the two of you complained and told horror stories about each of your majors. Jimin ranted on about how he almost changed his major, but the idea of taking more classes to fulfill another major’s prerequisites.

“I know! I almost changed mine too!” Jimin listened to you and the sound of you angrily flipping through the pages of the pre-law book. “But I thought about how angry my mom was going to be so I chickened ou-ow! Jesus!”

Jimin whipped his head around and you were examining your index finger. He retreated to your side and once again, held your hand in his own.

“Paper cut?” He chuckled.

“Y-Yeah.” You muttered. “Books are evil—I’m going to sue this book.”

Jimin laughed loudly and carefully pulled you up from the floor. “Alright, you sue the book and let Dr. Park fix up your finger.”

It wasn’t his intention, really it wasn’t, but Jimin walked down the stairs with you with your hand still in his. But what made his heart beat a bit faster was the fact you didn’t let go, you held on tighter.

“Let’s see. There has to be a first aid kit here somewhere—excuse me.” Jimin jokingly spoke to the still body of a library staff member sitting behind the main desk. He quickly found the transparent box labeled first aid.

“Alright, they don’t have any hydrogen peroxide, so I’m going to have to use an alcohol swab.” Jimin rummaged through the box and pulled out an alcohol swab, a tissue, and a bandaid.

“O-Or we can just leave it as is. It’s just a papercut, it’ll heal in a jiffy!” Your tone of voice was a bit squeaky and you took a step back.

“Aw, is y/n afraid of the alcohol swab?” Jimin cooed. “Your paper cut started bleeding so we have to kill the germs. Just relax. You’ll be fine in Dr.Park’s care.”

Jimin guided you to an empty rolling chair and knelt down beside you. With the utmost care, Jimin cradled your finger and dabbed the paper cut with the swab. Instantly, your hand tensed up but you stayed silent so he looked up to find your eyes screwed shut and bottom lip tucked between your teeth. He wanted to smile at the adorable sight of you being afraid but he switched his focus back on your cut, forcing his blush to dissipate.

Get your shit together, Jimin.

“Alright, Ms. Y/n. We’re all done here however, you don’t have insurance with me so the total price of this is another cup of coffee.” Jimin folded down the yellow polka dotted bandage around your finger and you scoffed at his witty remark.

“Alright, that seems fair. We can head back to my dorm after we finish up here.”

Before heading to your dorm, you made sure to take a detour to the frat house to return the books in its rightful spot; Being able to copy pages from the book for free was one of the things Jimin was thankful for.

By the time four o’clock rolled around, Jimin had four ramen bowls and two cups of coffee sitting in his stomach. He slouched in his seat trying to not regret eating so much. You were rummaging around your mini fridge looking for something sweet to balance out the spicy-savory taste.

Instead of pulling out some sort of dessert, you offered Jimin a shot or two of whiskey that you found hiding in the small freezer section of your fridge. Jimin was probably going to at least regret this, but he agreed.

After grabbing two bottles of coke from the vending machine in the hallway, one or two shots turned into killing half of the bottle. Jimin poured another round of shots into the coffee mugs and flickered his gaze to you.

Your cheeks were visibly red and your face was glowing. Your eyes were halfway closed and mumbled something incoherent.

“Maybe we should stop here, y/n.” Jimin laughed.

“No, no, no, no. I’m fine. I’m sober, I swear.” You slurred.

“I beg to differ. You should lie down.” Jimin left his seat feeling a bit dizzy, but still did his best to take care of you first.

“One more shot, just one more.” You reached to grab your mug but Jimin intercepted.

“No, y/n, come on. Just sleep for a few hours.”

You reached for the hand that took your mug away and brought it up to your cheek. “Just one more. Please, Jimin? One more and I’ll go to bed.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Jimin started to feel warm. “F-Fine. Just one and then straight to bed.”

You happily rubbed your cheek against his hand and tanked the shot followed by the chaser. Even in your drunken state, you obliged to Jimin’s condition and wobbled over to your bed. You took the open ended side of your bed and laid flat on your stomach.

“Y/n, don’t sleep on your stomach.” Jimin shook you, but you let out a soft whine instead.

Jimin swallowed hard, trying to get a clear grasp of his vision since he was also drunk, but definitely not like you. He carefully rolled you over onto your back and then placed one arm beneath your neck and the other underneath your knees to scoot your back towards the end of the bed. Just in case you needed to throw up, he grabbed your trash can and placed it near your head side.

“Good gracious.” Jimin breathed. He took one of the chairs and stationed it near you so he could keep an eye on you for a while. He closed his eyes for a few seconds in search of relaxation but he heard you talking. “Hm?”

“Yuan…” you sighed.

Jimin scooted his chair closer to hear you better.

“Yuanfen…” you finally said while opening your eyes. “That’s chinese. Chinese for binding...force?”

“Yeah. Something like that…” Jimin chuckled and brushed a few hairs out of your eyes.

You laughed and stared blankly into Jimin’s eyes. “Ohhhhhhh, that’s why it’s the perfect name for this holiday-thingy. A force to bind soulmates.” You whispered. “Hey, Jimnim…”

Jimin snorted at the butchered version of his name. “Yes, y/n.”

“We’re soulmates.” A soft chuckle pushed past your lips. “Soul. Mates. Me. You.”

The mention of being soulmates almost sobered Jimin up in an instant. You were drunk out of your mind, blabbering about anything so he tried to not take anything seriously.

But you know what they say about drunken words…

“Mhm. Soulmates.” Jimin sadly repeated.

“I’m sorry, Jimnim. I know I’m not your type to be a soulmate.” You brought your hand up to cradle Jimin’s face, tracing his cheek. “But I’ll do my best okay? I have to make Jiminim happy.”

It almost felt like he couldn’t breathe. He had to keep telling himself that you were drunk. You were a drunk girl who had no idea what she was saying.

But honestly, your words cut him deep. Of course Jimin was disappointed about Momo, his girlfriend, not being his soulmate. He had thought about this day a million times over and he never would have imagined you in Momo’s place.

Jimin touched your hand that held his face and breathed in deeply. Your eyes were already seconds away from closing and Jimin smiled.

“I’ll do my best too.”

↠↞

You didn’t dare open your eyes. You were pretty much awake at this point, but even with your eyes closed, you felt the entire world spinning.

“Ugh, fuck me.” You finally gave in and cracked an eye open. It took you a few seconds to find the willpower to open your last eye and when you did, a wave of regret washed over you. “I drank last night, now this afternoon… I don’t ever want to drink again.”

Okay, that’s a lie.

After registering your surroundings, you cautiously tilted your head and found the fluff of Jimin’s black hair. He was sitting in a chair, hunched over at your side with his face stuffed in his arms and your hand was lost somewhere between his limbs.

The memories of you and Jimin sharing the whiskey you found came through in blurry pieces. You remembered venting to Jimin about how you wished you had ice cream in your fridge and then face planting onto your pillow; that’s all you could remember at the moment.

“Jimin… Jimin.” You rasped.

“Mmm, five more minutes.” Jimin grunted and shifted around in his seat without lifting his head.

“Jimin, get up, please. I have to use the bathroom.”

You waited and watched and Jimin’s shoulders rise and fall. He then sat up to rub his eyes and your hand was finally free.

“Can you walk?” Jimin questioned, already maneuvering around to help you sit up.

“Ugh.” Your stomach was not happy. “Yeah. Slowly though. The stupid bathroom is down the hall.”

Jimin helped you swing your legs down and you noticed him wince, probably also feeling sick from drinking.

“I got it, Jimin.”

“It’s alright. I have to make sure you make it safe.” Jimin brought you to your feet and supported your weight by throwing your arm over his shoulders. He put his arm around your waist, just like how he did at the frat house, and guided you to take small steps out of your room.

Your stomach was fluttering.

It’s the alcohol. It’s the fucking alcohol.

The whole time to the bathroom, using the bathroom, and then walking back, you were piecing together the puzzle pieces of the hazy interactions you made while wasted. The whiny conversation about how you wanted to drink one more shot became clear and you sort of remembered your failed attempts at saying Jimin’s name.

“I wonder where can we get some soup that’s not ramen soup base.” Jimin said.

You gave it some thought and then you remembered seeing instant miso soup packets at the frat house. As soon as you mentioned it, Jimin grabbed his varsity jacket to put on for you and then led you out of your dorm.

Walking outside seemed to be a bit difficult for you because you were still feeling dizzy after drinking a little more than what you originally planned. Jimin, on the other hand, looked a lot less miserable than what he did when you woke up from your nap. He did have a higher alcohol tolerance than you, but you still found it unfair that you were suffering alone.

“I hate drinking.” You complained.

Jimin snickered. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death.” You sighed. “I’m walking straight, right? It doesn’t feel like I’m even using my own legs to walk.”

Again, Jimin laughed and your stomach started to turn.

“You’re walking fine, but just for added security—”

The sudden touch of Jimin’s hand on your arm made you jump. He made you snake your arm around his to walk arm in arm to the frat house.

The alcohol in your stomach was really fucking with you and you desperately wanted to let go, but you enjoyed the warmth.

“The sunset is really pretty.” Jimin whispered and you couldn’t help but look at the profile of his face.

You could tell he was smiling by the way his cheek bone poked upward and all you could imagine was the way his eyes almost disappeared every time he smiled.

It was the warmth. You were enjoying the warmth.

The miso soup tasted like everything you’ve been missing in your life. The warmth of the soup sat happily inside of you instantly taking away the queasy feeling in your stomach.

Jimin finished his meal quickly and watched you eat with a small smile plastered on his face. He offered to make you more but you declined.

You were now watching his back as he washed the dishes. His body frame was completely different than Taeyong’s.

Taeyong was taller than Jimin, but you were still much shorter than the latter. Jimin went to gym whenever he had free time, giving him a little more muscle mass than your boyfriend. You didn’t mean to compare, but your mind continued to wander. You thought about Jimin’s hands and how they gently cradled yours; they were soft yet sturdy, making you feel weirdly comfortable when you held his hands.

Your thoughts broke once Jimin turned on his heel. The queasy feeling in your stomach returned when he looked at you.

“Feeling better?” Jimin strode towards you and your heart began to beat faster.

“Y-Yeah. I’m fine.”

What’s happening to me?

“So, what else is there to do?” He asked.

You gave it some thought.

“Have you been to the roof of the library?”

↠↞

Jimin stared in amazement looking over the campus. The purple-orange sky had begun to darken a bit with flecks of stars appearing on the canvas. He soaked up the evening air and looked off into the distance, realizing that the day was almost finished.

“Have a seat.” You lugged two wooden crates near the edge.

“This spot is unbelievable.” Jimin breathed. “Why didn’t you mention this place before?”

“I don’t know, I actually I don’t come here often. A friend of mine dragged me up here so she could paint the sunset.” You explained and Jimin nodded.

The world was so peaceful and quiet making Jimin’s thoughts roar even louder. If he didn’t talk about this situation with you, it would only get worse once time starts again.

He turned to you and felt his chest tighten at the sight of your hair messily falling in front of your face when the wind blew. With a thundering heart, he lifted his hands to carefully push your hair out of the way, making you look at him.

“I-I think we need to talk about us.” He finally said.

You let out a sigh and chewed on your bottom lip. “Y-You’re right.”

The thought of Taeyong and Momo being completely heartbroken over the news ripped Jimin’s heart into two. “What are we supposed to do…? Momo and I had a future planned and now…” He dropped his head into his hands knowing that everything that he and Momo dreamed of was now nothing but a hopeless wish.

“Jimin... “ You placed a hand on his shoulder. “If I could change things, I fucking would in a heart beat. I’m sorry that in the end… it’s me.”

He felt like a fucking jerk. Yes, he loved Momo. Yes, he had all these plans to marry her. But he didn’t need to smother it in your face to make it sound like you were a horrible candidate because after all, he was your soulmate too.

“No, don’t apologize. It’s no one’s fault.” Jimin explained. “You know y/n, truth be told, I really enjoyed today.”

He was now smiling thinking back to how simple the day was: eating, sleeping, gallivanting around the frat house, drinking again, sleeping some more, and now the day was ending with a breathtaking view. Studying with you in between classes was great, but it was nothing like this. It all seemed so different. Maybe because it was Yuanfen and the effects of the holiday was gnawing at his emotions or maybe it was because he held your hand for the first time, giving him new waves of emotions he never thought he’d feel before. Even if he was feeling guilty deep down, he was being honest. Jimin truly enjoyed the day with you.

“I don’t--I don’t know, maybe we don’t have to tell them?” You suggested. “We could just let everything happen on its own.”

Jimin tented his eyebrows a bit. “Could you really go back to normal after all of this?” His words came out as a whisper. “I don’t know if I could.”

“But we have to, don’t we? I don’t even know where to begin telling Taeyong about all of this.” Now it was your turn to bury your face in your hands. “My friendship with Momo is probably going to be ruined after this. I don’t know how to look in the eyes of my best friend and tell her that her boyfriend is my soulmate.”

The sudden urge to hug you bubbled inside of Jimin. He fought it, pushed it down inside of him, but it clawed its way back up. He stood up and took your hand, just like how he had done throughout the entire day, and enveloped you into his arms. His arms settled around your waist and he pressed his nose in the crook of your neck. It seemed like you hesitated at first, clutching the sleeves of his jacket, but your snaked your arms around his neck to return the hug.

“I know that everything is just so messed up right now and we’re just forced to deal with this reality. I know that I may not be your type of a soul mate…” Jimin sadly remembered how you drunkenly spoke to him before knocking out. “But I’ll do my best, okay? I have to make you happy.”

You abruptly reeled yourself back, hands resting on his shoulders, and gasped. “Did I--Did I say that to you? That sounds familiar that’s why.”

Jimin nodded his head. “You said it when you were drunk, but listen, I also would change things if I could. But I need you to know that whatever happens, I’m going to learn how to lo--” Jimin swallowed hard. “I’m going to learn how to love you. As a man, I’m going to do my best for you. You’re my soulmate, y/n. It may not be what we want, but we can’t escape this. I promise to make you happy.”

↠↞

The feeling that flowed inside of you was a mixture of shock, confusion, and happiness? You weren’t sure where that last emotion came from. Hearing everything that spewed out of Jimin’s house was painful but so beautiful to hear.

“What—” you whispered. “What brought this on?”

Jimin readjusted his hold on you, but still kept his hands on your waist. “I—I don’t know. I think it came from spending the day with you. It was different. We don’t usually spend time like this together.”

It was true, not to mention, holding hands with Jimin while hanging out together was far from normal. You had to admit, you also enjoyed spending time with him. He cared for you the entire time and always agreed with your plans even though it was his birthday. There were times where your heart was about to burst out of your chest and deep down you knew why, but how could you admit it?

“I also enjoyed today. Thank you for taking care of me, Jimin.” You looked into his eyes and noticed how they sparkled even without direct light.

“Anytime.” The smile Jimin gave you was so gentle. He could probably feel your hands shake on his shoulders from being nervous.

Was it selfish to want to savour this moment for a little longer?

After Yuanfen ends, how could things return back to normal? You needed to figure out a way to tell Taeyong. Would he still want to be with you and just fall out of love? The thought of that crushed you. You loved Taeyong so much, but he wasn’t your soulmate.

Jimin was.

Just like Jimin, you were going to learn how to love him. You were going to study his love language, learn what side of the bed he prefers to sleep on, and get to know his family. Somewhere deep inside of you scratched at your heart, begging you to realize that doing all of this was more of a want than an obligation.

You wanted to know more about Jimin on an intimate level. You wanted to plan a future with him. But the only hurdle in the way was the pain of having to tell Taeyong what happened.

“Y/n.”

You were so deep in thought, you didn’t realize you were still clinging onto Jimin who was also still holding you.

“Shit, sorry. I—”

“I know what I want as a birthday gift.” Jimin’s cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes shook as he stared into yours. He cleared his throat. “As a gift… can I kiss you?”

Were your ears deceiving you? Did Jimin just ask to kiss you? Sure you and Jimin were tossed into some fantasy world, but in this moment, were you dreaming?

“Wha-what?”

“I know. It’s a stupid request, but I was just thinking about how it would be to you know, kiss you.” The grip he had on your waist began to loosen, probably from wavering confidence. “If you don’t want to then—”

“N-No.” You held onto his shoulders a little tighter. “It’s alright. You can kiss me.”

Jimin raised his eyebrows. He was probably expecting you to refuse and you were honestly considering it, but you also thought about it at some point.

What would it be like to kiss Park Jimin?

A broken sputter of words spewed past his lips. “U-Uh—um, okay. Okay.” His hands left your waist to rest against the small of your back, pulling you closer to him.

The action subconsciously made you raise your hands to gently cup his cheeks. Your heart was pounding and your breathing was audibly jagged.

Jimin lowered his head, leaving a couple of inches of space between his lips and yours. You stared at the thickness of his lips and the desire to kiss him grew.

Just before he moved in closer, you met his eyes once more.

“Happy birthday, Jimin.”

Initially, the kiss was quick—a peck on the lips that lasted about a second of two. But Jimin didn’t stop there. He tilted his head to capture your lips again to give you a gentle kiss, shyly moving against yours. You didn’t fight it—you didn’t even hesitate to replicate his movements and laced your hands into his hair.

Jimin’s lips were soft and he continuously kept pulling you closer to him, but you didn’t mind it. You were immediately intoxicated and addicted to the taste of his lips.

This was a crime. You were both in relationships and here you were, kissing the boyfriend of your best friend. You had to stop...but…

I don’t want to.

↠↞

Instead of spending more time on the rooftop, Jimin suggested to retreat into the library to escape the freezing air. The library was a lot warmer than outside, but Jimin craved more warmth.

There were couches in the study area in the library, so without saying another word, he laid on the couch and pulled you in to have you flush against his chest. Was it his heartbeat that increased? Or was it yours?

Jimin took the liberty to set an alarm on his phone for 11:30 just in case you two fell asleep, which you both did. You probably drifted to sleep first because he caressed your back and you didn’t flinch one bit.

Bliss. Content. Peace. Guilt.

For once he thought, did today have to end?

The sky was now stained black with specks of stars fluttering around. The air was colder with a light breeze and the street lights were on, lighting the path of the sidewalk to the lounge.

Jimin stared at the tips of his shoes as he walked whilst have his fingers laced in between yours. He still hadn’t figured out what exactly he was going to tell Momo. This whole situation was going to ruin four relationships: his and Momo’s relationship, you and Taeyong’s, his friendship with Taeyong, and your longtime friendship with Momo. It’s not like he was going to instantly make you his girlfriend after the whole matter was settled, it would be too soon; you probably thought the same.

“Jimin, we’re here.” You spoke, not even hiding the sadness in your voice.

“I don’t…” Jimin whispered. “I can’t go in.”

Your hand was trembling in his and he thought it was because you were cold, but he noticed you wiping your eyes with your free hand.

“Hey…” He breathed, turning you to face him.

“I-I’m sorry.” You sniffled.

Jimin’s heart ached. He shared the same pain; he had to tell Momo about this, but he didn’t know how.

He ran a hand through your hair to take a good look at your face; your eyes were glossy and the tip of your nose was tinged pink. It was too soon to think you looked absolutely adorable, but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s okay.” Jimin mumbled. He cradled your face and leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose then placed a kiss on your lips. It was a subconscious action that shocked Jimin as much as it did you. It was his turn to apologize and even with the sad look in your eyes, you smiled and repeated his words “it’s okay.”

Jimin gestured you to walk in first and he followed shortly. Everything in the lounge remained the same, obviously. The main area of the lounge was flooded with college students and as he walked further towards the back, his party decorations came into view and the first person he saw was Momo.

She was sitting perfectly still, eyes closed with her lips poked out just as he left her. He sat beside her and stroked her cheek. Tears welled up in his eyes and just before a tear could spill out, the sound of a choked back sob filled the air.

Jimin turned to find you sitting on Taeyong’s lap; he was stuck in mid-laugh, looking as happy as ever. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck with your arms were wrapped around him.

It hurt watching you—everything hurt. In a couple of minutes, Yuanfen was going to end and reality was going to begin. He turned to Momo and his heart sank to his stomach. He never imagined being in this position. Would it still be possible to work through this? Could he and Momo still be a couple?

In one minute, Jimin was going to have an answer.

There was a soft wind-chime-like sound that played in his head, just like the one he heard when Yuanfen started. His chest rattled and slowly, the music of the room grew louder and laughter began to spread into the air. In his peripherals, people started to move around but all Jimin could do was stare into his lap.

“Babe?”

For the first time, Momo’s voice broke his heart. The tears that previously faded sprung back into his eyes and Momo panicked.

“Babe, what’s wrong? What happened?” She gently touched his cheek and it felt so different. Sparks would fly at the slightest touch of her fingers, but now…

“H-Hey, Jimin.” Momo’s voice began to fade in his head. He settled his attention towards the other side of the room where you were.

It looked like you were still crying because Taeyong held onto your hands with a look of concern written all over his face. You turned your head and gave Jimin an unsettling look and tugged on Taeyong’s hand to lead him outside.

I guess we’re telling them afterall.

“Jimin.” Momo spoke. “Are you alright? You’re scaring me.”

What the hell was he supposed to say? He couldn’t just come right out and say “I’m sorry, but we’re not soulmates.” It seemed too cruel.

“And what happened? I swear it was Yuanfen, but I don’t remember a single thing.” There was concern in Momo’s voice and he couldn’t blame her. Afterall… she isn’t my…

“Momo.” Jimin said sternly. “Let’s go outside, we have to talk.”

This was it.

Somehow, the weather hadn’t changed but it was so much colder now.

As Jimin stepped out onto the sidewalk with Momo, he easily spotted you in the short distance even with your back turned to him. Jimin switched his attention to Taeyong who looked uneasy and heartbroken. He looked at Jimin with furrowed brows and sadness in his eyes before walking away. Your shoulders were slumped forward and instead of walking in the same direction as Taeyong, you went the opposite, walking past Momo and Jimin on the way,

“Y-Yn? What happ--” Momo tried to reach out for your hand, but Jimin grabbed her hand instead.

“Leave her.” He muttered.

“B-But, she looked like she was crying! Jimin, I have to go to her!”

Jimin squeezed Momo’s hand. He couldn’t look at her. The words couldn’t come out. Everything was crumbling at his feet.

“Jimin. Seriously. What is going on? You’re fucking scaring me.” Momo lashed out.

“We aren’t…” Jimin’s words were soft, almost inaudible.

“What?”

Jimin swallowed hard and looked Momo dead in the eyes. “You’re not my soulmate, Momo.”

A pained force laugh was pushed past between her lips as she took a step back. “Wha-What are you talking about, Jimin? What the fuck do you mean?!”

Silence. All he could offer her was silence.

“There has to be a mistake.” She was frantic. “M-Maybe there’s something about losing your memory after Yuanfen or soulmates getting mixed up or s-something.”

Jimin parted his lips to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

There were tears threatening to spill from Momo’s eyes as she approached him with caution. She clutched his face, her fingers so cold against his skin.

There was no warmth anymore.

“We’re high school sweethearts, Jimin. How can I not be your soulmate…?” Her voice shook as well as her hands.

“Momo, I’m sorry.” Jimin choked out. “I wish there was a mistake—I looked for loopholes, stories of people having the wrong soulmate, but…”

Slowly, Momo separated herself from Jimin’s body.

“Then who… who is your soulmate if it’s not me?” She managed to ask through her tears.

This is what Jimin dreaded—admitting that you were his soulmate to Momo.

“It’s…” Jimin breathed. “My soulmate is… y/n.”

The sound of your name made Momo lift her hand up to her mouth and all Jimin could do was endure the horror that settled in her eyes. He couldn’t reach out to hug her. He didn’t feel worthy of that.

“Y/n…?” She whimpered. “My best friend is my boyfriend’s soulmate? Is that why she was—” A loud sob interrupted her sentence.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to hurt her and he was damn sure you didn’t want any of this either.

Yuanfen was supposed to be magical. It was supposed to be a celebration of eternal love.

But it was all shit.

There was nothing magical about hurting Momo, seeing her cry knowing that he had no control over any of this.

Jimin had wondered if there was any way he and Mono could work through any of this and just by the look on her face, he knew the answer.

“Momo, I—”

“You spent Yuanfen with her and what? Did you two do anything?!” She spat.

He was at a loss for words. “We didn’t want this, okay?! She was in a happy and loving relationship with Taeyong and us too. This isn’t easy and I swear to you, Momo, I wish I could change this in a heartbeat but I can’t. I can’t do anything about this. I love you. How am I supposed to do this?”

Momo was wavering. She took a few more steps back and shook her head.

“How, you ask… well, Jimin,” She began. “Let me make it easier for you.”

Just like that, with tear filled eyes, Momo spun on her heel and walked away with Jimin’s heart broken on the pavement.

It was cold, so cold. He couldn’t feel his hands, his face—tears? Jimin touched his cheeks with his nimble fingers and felt the damp streaks on his face.

The hard part was over, right? Having to face Momo and tell her the truth, that was the hard part and now it was done. But he was still suffocating.

Jimin lost her. He lost his girlfriend. Sure he may have found his soulmate, but what good is it if his soulmate wasn’t his girlfriend? He spent years loving Momo and just like that, it was all done. There was nothing left.

“Jimin.��

He looked up from his feet to find you standing before him, hair disheveled and cheeks still stained with tears. You staggered forward but he was still close enough to catch you.

“I expected this.” You said quietly. “It was all expected, but why…”

Immediately, Jimin snaked his arms around your waist to embrace you. He felt and understood your pain.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He breathed near your ear.

“Yeah.” You sniffled and hugged him tighter. “I’m sorry, too.”

Jimin sighed and rubbed your lower back. He didn’t know what he wanted. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to leave you be for now or take your hand to his dorm to talk about things. It was all too much to take in.

Jimin had just spent an entire day with you, took a nap with you in the same bed, he even kissed you for God’s sake. Losing Momo now was for the best. It would’ve been too painful to force himself out of love and push her away in the future. It was like ripping off a bandaid, quick and—well, painful.

“What are we supposed to do now?” You questioned.

What were we supposed to do?

Everything was still fresh. He was sure that Taeyong and Momo both had a lot of questions to ask, but maybe now wasn’t a good time. He really didn’t know what to do.

Out of instinct, he reached to cup your face and placed a light kiss in between your eyebrows. Your eyes fluttered closed and it wasn’t the best time to be thinking about it, but Jimin had the sudden urge to kiss you properly on the lips.

Again, Jimin acted on instinct.

He traced your cheek with his finger and curled it to lift your chin to make eye contact with you. Your eyes were red with a dust of sadness. You weren’t pulling away and you were still hugging him. He had a feeling you knew what was going to happen next, so he didn’t hesitate.

Using his thumb, Jimin gently pulled beneath your bottom lip to part them about a centimeter’s distance. He watched you close your eyes once more and kissed you sweetly.

Jimin tasted the saltiness from your tears, your pain, your heart break. Mixed in with the cocktail of emotions was the slightest taste of happiness.

He slowly broke the kiss, already missing the intimate contact and once again, tugged you at your nape to bring your face to his chest. He stroked your hair and sighed.

“I don’t know what to do.” Jimin said. “I guess let’s just...go?” He reeled himself back and took your hand, leading you down the path.

Heartbroken as he was for his soulmate not being Momo, he was still happy it was someone he knew and that someone was you. The beholders of fate and love had decided that you were his soulmate.

Yuanfen was a binding force that linked two persons together in any relationship and in this case, it was a romantic one and that force bound you to him.

He had wished that maybe it was you who he had dated in high school. He wished that you were the one he introduced to his parents and brother. He wished he knew what your body liked and what made your toes curl in bliss. He thought it would’ve made this entire thing easier.

But that was the thing, love wasn’t easy. Love was an adventure filled with ups and downs, heartache and celebration. It wasn’t a one time thing, it was something to experience at many different times in one’s life.

Jimin was now this adventure with you and he was going to learn how to love you. He was going to experience every side of you and love each one completely. At least now he knew this was going to be a forever thing and it was all thanks to the thing that pained him in the first place.

Yuanfen.

♡ rae jagi

#bangtan boys #bts #jimin #bts scenarios #jimin scenarios #jimin angst #jimin soulmate au #bts angst #bts soulmate au #this was so fucking long im cryin #mochi #binding force #rae writes

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vanilla107 · 5 years

Text

Crowley’s obession with ducks

“Crowley?” Aziaphale asked on a slightly cold day in the Park.

“Hmmm?” the demon hummed as he opened one yellow eye underneath his dark sunglasses.

“I’ve noticed something about you.”

“Oh really? And what might that be? My charming good looks?” he smirked and Aziraphale ignored the fluttery feeling in his stomach.

“No! Nothing like that! It’s going to sound rather…ridiculous but…I’ve noticed that you really like ducks,” Aziraphale stammered.

*************************

Hello everyone!

I binged this show over two days while I was sick and I have no regrets. I fell into a new fandom! I love Aziraphale and Crowley's banter so much and I kept noticing Crowley say 'ducks' constantly and I though 'this demon has an obsession with ducks' and this is how this idea was formed.

I hope you enjoy this and remember that comments and kudos make me super happy (and comments and kudos make me write faster just saying)!

Stay healthy!

vanilla107 xoxo

Crowley’s obsession with ducks had gone unnoticed by Aziraphale.

They had saved humanity and the two heavenly beings (or unheavenly in Crowley’s case), could finally relax after 6000 years.

And by relax, it meant more like spending time together without fearing their higher-ups finding out. They could freely talk, have lunch and even though the angel had denied it many times over the past 6000 years…he considered Crowley to be his friend.

And he really liked that he could admit it because it was always Crowley saying how they were friends but for the sake of them being on opposite sides…he had to lie through his teeth.

But now they could enjoy each other’s company and just be themselves after saving the world. Crowley would stop off at the bookstore during the week for tea, meetings at cafes and restaurants, reminiscing their miracles and poking fun at heaven and hell. It felt so normal that there were days that Aziraphale questioned where there ever was supposed to be Armageddon because if this was all part of God’s plan then…he quite liked it like that.

Spending time with Crowley felt second nature to him and he was content with it. It allowed him to notice little things about the demon that he had never noticed before. The little nose scrunch he would do when he disagreed with something, the quirk of his eyebrow when he ‘tempted’ the angel for lunch and many other little things that made Aziraphale’s heart beat a little faster than usual.

But the one thing that he found to be the most adorable- and he knew that Crowley would hate him for even thinking that- was his teeny obsession with ducks.

He had caught glimpses of it when they were still on opposite sides, like their meetings in the park. Crowley would casually mention the ducks in the pond and Aziraphale would dismiss it because there had been more concerning matters at the time- like raising the Antichrist- but now it was so obvious to him that he couldn’t believe he had been so blind.

“Crowley?” he asked on a slightly cold day in the Park.

“Hmmm?” the demon hummed as he opened one yellow eye underneath his dark sunglasses.

“I’ve noticed something about you.”

“Oh really? And what might that be? My charming good looks?” he smirked and Aziraphale ignored the fluttery feeling in his stomach.

“No! Nothing like that! It’s going to sound rather…ridiculous but…I’ve noticed that you really like ducks,” Aziraphale stammered.

Crowley’s mouth parted a little and he seemed at a loss for words for a minute.

“I…I…they’re ducks? Why, did you expect me to not like ducks?”

“I just find it funny. As a typical demon that supposedly has to hate humanity and everything…that you end up liking ducks.”

“Well I’m not a typical demon and you aren’t a typical angel. We both know that.”

“Yes but…ducks Crowley.”

“What do you want me to say Aziraphale? That you’re right about ducks? Because I’m not giving you the satisfaction with a bird that swims in water,” he said with an eye roll.

“Oh, I didn’t expect you give up the information so easily, Crowley. Don’t worry, I’ll get the information out of you somehow.”

“Oh shut up. I know you like food and surprise! Angels aren’t supposed to like food.”

As if on cue, Aziraphale began to salivate and even though angels and demons didn’t need to consume anything, he liked food. He enjoyed taking part in it no matter what anyone said.

‘Food is just junk that humans put in their bodies! Why would you ever want to lower yourself to them?’ Gabriel had said one day when he caught him in a café eating a croissant.

“Yes but food is food, Crowley. You like ducks. You, Mr. I-am-so-evil-and-mean likes cute little ducks! I wouldn't be surprised if you came here secretly to feed them bread on weekends,” he chuckled and the demon cleared his throat.

“You and your duck nonsense are getting on my nerves. I think that means it’s time for lunch.”

What shall we have today? Crumbed hake and chips? Oysters at the Ritz? Oh, there’s a new Italian restaurant? Maybe crepes because you can never go wrong with crepes!

“Oi, let’s go. What you peckish for?” Crowley asked as he stood up and Aziraphale followed.

“I was thinking Italian.”

“Italian it is then.”

As the two walked to the gleaming black Bentley, the angel hadn’t forgotten what Crowley had said.

“What do you want me to say Aziraphale? That you’re right about ducks? Because I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”

He grinned as he got into the passenger seat and the engine hummed as Crowley reversed into the road.

I’ll get it out of you Crowley. Consider that a promise.

**********************************************************

A few weeks later…

Crowley yawned as he walked into his house, his evening with Aziraphale one of drinking and laughter and even though demons and angels didn’t need sleep to function, he felt exhausted. He threw his keys on the table where a cardboard box sat.

“Time to check on the plants…hopefully no holes today,” he muttered to himself but froze. He turned to face the table, where in fact there was a cardboard box.

A cardboard box that he never remembered seeing when he left that afternoon.

Even though he was sure that Lord Beelzebub and the rest of hell wanted to stay clear of him for the next couple centuries, he still had his guard up as he walked slowly towards the box. He tapped it once, twice before shaking it furiously and hearing an object inside it rattle against the box.

He set it down and tore open the box before staring, in amazement and shock, at the yellow plastic duck.

“Really angel? A bath duck?” he scoffed as he picked it up and held it in one hand as he threw the box away.

Mild irritation set in because Aziraphale really got him a plastic duck as if he wanted to prove that he liked ducks and it was a children’s toy and why was he so adamant?

Crowley sighed as he held the cold plastic in his hands, the bright yellow body and orange beak glaring at him.

It was sorta cute…

“Well…it’s pointless throwing you away…y’know with plastic not being biodegradable and we all saw what pollution does to the environment…so I might as well keep you.”

He smiled a small smile before running a bath and throwing the duck into the water, its bright yellow body bright against the white bath. He stripped and got in, staring at the duck before pushing it under water only for it to resurface with a plop!

“Okay Aziraphale…if this is how you want to play this game then you’re going to have to try a whole lot harder than a floating bath toy,” he murmured before washing himself and getting out the bath. He put on his pajamas, black cotton of course and his fluffy robe and was about to retire for the evening before there was a knock at his door.

Who the devil could that be?

He looked at the clock, before checking security and opening up his door to a delivery man.

“Evenin’ Mr. Crowley. Package for ya,” greeted the familiar delivery man and the demon signed his name before saying good night and closing his door once the delivery man had left.

He looked at the package warily and opened it.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he groaned as he stared at the lemon yellow duck plushie.

He picked up the soft plushie and sighed.

“Well…it couldn’t get any worse than this right?” Crowley said as he discarded the box and walked to his bedroom and got into bed, the plushie by his side.

“Stupid Aziraphale. Stupid ducks.” he mumbled before drifting off to sleep.

On the other side of town at the angel’s bookstore, Aziraphale grinned as he made a list of duck related ideas in bed.

“Oh Crowley, I can’t wait to see how this turns out!”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #my writing #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #flufff

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nate-walsh · 5 years

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unwedded

Sooooo, it’s good to periodically take your life and just spike it into the fucking ground, right? That’s a good healthy smart good thing, right? Blow it up and start fresh? “When there’s nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire?”

Well. Either way, here we are.

Let me catch you up.

I was going to be married. Had a big old party planned (and trust me, it was gonna be a good one) and a big old life planned (presumably also a good one). We were going to say, “fuck kids,” and keep on keeping on with all of our various little unreasonable adventures, basically indefinitely. We were going to move around a lot, see all the places we wanted to see – NOLA, LA, Amsterdam. (We were semi-seriously talking about heading to Buenos Aires after the wedding.) Elli was going to maybe work her way up to a place where I maybe didn’t have to work, and I could go back to school or write a book and get my spirit back. I was going to have siblings, I was going to be an uncle. I was going to have a person, a partner, someone to grow old with. We were going to totter around as cute little seniors. We were going to take care of each other. It was going to be a whole thing.

And then, in the space of 6 days, it suddenly wasn’t. Elli is gone, and we’re done, and here I am alone. It’s pretty wild, honestly.

I’m not really going to get into the why. We talked it over with our therapist – shout out to Dr. Jessica; you’re incredible! – and we established the official party line: Things happened that made us realize that, while we could be lifelong friends, we couldn’t be lifelong partners. That’s all true, but it’s obviously not everything – in fact, it’s pretty damn vague. You know me, left to my own devices, I’d spill my guts all over the place. But it’s not just my story, so sorry, nosy Nellies, I’m going to have to keep this one under my hat.

It was a strange few final days, which I am sure will come as no surprise. We bought all of these fireworks on our drive out to Austin, and finally, our last night together, we finally set them off, in the middle of a field in Garfield, TX – throwing back Hello Kitty cups of prosecco. It was sad and lovely. We got matching heart tattoos – also sad and lovely – hopefully because we’re not done with each other, in some form or other. But, at the very least, because we wanted to mark this not-so-little mile marker in our lives.

I’m always going to love Elli. She is wonderful and honestly the kindest, best person I know. She actively made me better, more thoughtful, more forgiving, more empathetic. She basically killed the fundamental attribution error in me, which is pretty wacky. She was a great partner – funny, goofy, adventurous and cheerfully nihilistic in the same way I am: “Money’s fake, and we’re all going to die, so let’s have fun.” She’s always going to be family and one of my best friends, even if we never talk again. I hope we do, though. I think we will. Neither of us is the sort to be angry or mean or bitter. We’re de-escalators. That’s one of the things I liked about us.

I keep waiting for the big sad to hit, the devastation, but maybe I got it out in the week things ended. Maybe it’s the pills that are keeping me from wiping out. Mostly I feel a little lonely, a little worried about what’s next, and not really ready for any of it. I feel like a little kid, unequipped for being a mature adult in the real world. It’s suddenly much much clearer all the things Elli did to keep us afloat. And now I am my own little life preserver. And I feel like I’ve got a few leaks.

I’m not sure what I’m going to do next. I’m 35 and starting over. Basically everyone I know my age is settled in a marriage, saddled up with a kid. I’ve always deviated from the path a bit, sure, but now I’m starting to feel like a fuck-up instead of a nonconformist.

I’ve got a little less than 2 months to figure out my next move. Stay in Austin? Head back to the Bay Area? Try somewhere new? (“I’ve never lived in LA, but I always wanted to.”) I’ll probably get into this some more in a bit, but it’s definitely hanging over me. The world is my oyster, but I don’t really feel like shucking the fucker yet.

It’s weird doing things as a 1 when you’re used to being a 2. The little routines now seem bizarre and strange. Elli decided we should take some time off from talking, which I think is healthy and smart. But it’s weird suddenly going from having one person who is kind of your whole life and who’s always there and who you know all the things about, and then suddenly, NOPE. And not only that – you don’t just lose the person, you lose the whole life you’d planned together in your mind. None of this is news, I suppose. (This is why I don’t write much these days. I’m not sure I have anything new to say that hasn’t been said by someone better than me. Also because advertising is crushing my soul, haha.)

People have been reaching out, which is nice. But I'm having a hard time. Turns out I don't talk to people very much. Which isn't as big of a deal when you've got one person as a permanent lifeline. Now, though, I realize the distance I've created is a pretty dumb mistake on my part. I have people I love, who love me, and we could talk, and I could form better relationships, but I keep to myself mostly. The crazy, I guess. Don’t want to risk inflicting myself on people.

I actually don’t mind the loneliness a lot of the time. It’s harder out in the world – weird sad dinners, no one to talk to at concerts – but at home, just me and Cat, it hardly feels like I need anyone. That’s not true, though, and not healthy. I worry I’m going to lose my ability to talk to people; it’s already atrophied since we moved here. I worry I’m going to forget how to do jokes. I worry about becoming a total hermit, dying alone and weird.

ALL THIS SAID, though, I don’t think it was a mistake, us ending things. It’s going to be hard, probably for a good long while, but I think it’s right that it happened. There’s this line from Dwight on The Office – “I think they both can do better.” That’s about right, I think – we both deserve a little more than we were getting, and I’m hopeful that we’re both going to get it. Because I’m nothing if not an idiot optimist.

(And, at least it happened before we married – and before we spent too too much on flowers and canapés and shit.)

I’m most inclined to write when I’m down or fraught, you’ve maybe noticed. So, for all of you folks hungering for Nate Walsh content the past 5 years, we’re back in the game, baby! I just have to remember how to do this whole thing.

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wineanddinosaur · 4 years

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How NYC Bartenders Are Building Pandemic-Proof Businesses

The days of sidling up to a bar in New York may feel like distant memories. But bartenders and business owners are fighting to bring them back by building imaginative solutions for the beverages, and the hospitality, that have been in such deficit over the past 11 months.

Some of these intrepid ideas involve new ventures and virtual bar experiences, while others pivot from traditional bar service entirely. One upstart is resurrecting an ancient technique to sell shelf-stable libations to-go. Another sees safety — in the form of rapid tests for Covid-19 at the venue entrance — as the new luxury.

In every story told here, there is resilience and a reimagined future. Here’s how a handful of NYC’s bar owners, workers, and newly minted entrepreneurs are attempting to survive and succeed in this pandemic.

Speakeasies Out on the Street

When Raines Law Room opened in Manhattan’s Chelsea neighborhood, it was the perfect example of the speakeasy style that many cocktail bars were emulating in 2009 — unmarked, hard-to-find door, tin ceiling, the works. With no standing room allowed, it was not easy to get in, which was the icing on the exclusive, hidden bar cake. These are not the sorts of places that thrive with indoor seating restrictions.

“Something that’s unique to all these frontline industries — and I hate to put us in the same category as health care, but we’re also some of the most affected — it’s like, ‘Come up with genius ideas while you’re kind of broke and uninsured!’” Meaghan Dorman, bar director of both Raines Law Room and Dear Irving, says. But bar people are immensely resilient, so Dorman opened up the bar’s intimate backyard and worked to obtain a bike lane permit in order to seat even more guests out front, in plain sight.

Though Dorman never thought she’d see a concept like Raines Law Room with a patio, it’s an increasingly common phenomenon in the streets of NYC. Even Attaboy, another infamous and elusive bar of New York, is now serving cocktails right out in the open on Eldridge Street.

“We’ve just really had to rethink how we can translate our philosophy into the only business we’re allowed to do right now,” Dorman says. For all of her bars, this entails not only in-person service, but a focus on to-go cocktails and virtual class offerings as well.

Paying for Safety is the New Luxury

In order to enter City Winery’s flagship location at Pier 57 in Hudson River Park on the West Side of Manhattan, both guests and employees alike are required to take a rapid Covid-19 test.* On Tuesdays and Wednesdays, patrons are responsible for the cost of a $50 test — a fee whose full amount goes directly to the testing company — and can spend their 15-minute wait for the results sipping on complimentary bubbles. Those who test positive for Covid-19 are sent home after being offered a follow-up PCR test with 24-hour turnaround, but they are not permitted inside. A negative result is rewarded with entrance to the restaurant, where all other safety protocols, such as social distancing and mask-wearing, are still enforced.

Michael Dorf, founder and CEO of City Winery, believes that offering tests at the door is “not just a scientific and social responsibility to keep people safe,” but an example of an expanding definition of hospitality. By ensuring that everybody inside what he refers to as “the bubble” has acquired a negative test result, City Winery is able to add another layer of comfort to the hospitality his restaurant venue provides. “And at some point in the not-too-distant future, we’re going to start to see [the need] to check people’s certificate of vaccination,” he says imaginatively.

Dorf believes there are “a lot of psychological considerations” to take into account to make guests feel as safe as possible, “and that’s our job,” he says. “Just like providing good bathrooms, we need to provide a good, comfortable situation for consumption. If people don’t feel safe, then they’re not going to come.”

Since City Winery is usually also a live-music venue, Dorf foresees thorough safety measures carried over for concerts when gathering restrictions are lessened. Until City Winery can host shows with an all-inclusive, test-and-ticket price for revelers, it is offering virtual concerts through its CWTV exclusive streaming series. Dorf says he is open to using it as an incremental offering for audiences who are unable to attend live because of logistics, “but we don’t see that at all in any way as a substitute.” As with its virtual wine tastings, he sees this more as a temporary bridge to connect people in a very solitary time, but also feels pushback on virtual gathering “because there’s so much of it,” he says. “And what we do really well, which doesn’t work in a Covid world … is bring people together.”

The Rise of the Salon

“My apartment, a brownstone with a large parlor, fireplace, and view of the Chrysler Building was my metropolitan dream. I was gutted at the thought of having to leave it,” recalls Georgette Moger-Petraske, a freelance food and drinks travel writer who lost her work last March. When her roommate moved out around the same time, keeping the apartment didn’t seem likely. Then she stumbled upon an 1860s perfume counter from Louisiana in an antique store during a day trip upstate. “I fell hard at first sight,” Moger-Petraske says of the beautiful bar-like structure. “Taking into consideration how much everyone was really missing bars and restaurants and attempting being home bartenders, I hatched a plan.”

The plan was to teach the fundamentals of classic cocktails like the simple yet elegant ones served at the storied speakeasy Milk & Honey, which was arguably the first of its kind in New York City to gain rabid popularity in the early aughts. Late owner Sasha Petraske and Moger-Petraske’s book, “Regarding Cocktails,” is filled with recipes for the at-home bartender and a fitting touchstone for any class. And so, with a little help from a PPP loan and a friend on the North Fork of Long Island with the Yennecott oyster farm, “Regarding Oysters” was born.

Moger-Petraske’s unique salon brings small groups into a Covid-safe learning space. During a two-hour session, guests are welcomed into her Murray Hill apartment with hand sanitizer and temperature checks before being treated to a class in cocktail-making and oyster-shucking at the little antique bar that had caught her eye so many months ago. “The salons are very intimate and there’s always a celebratory feeling in the air,” Moger-Petraske says of her small, reservations-only classes that will gather in honor of birthdays, engagements, and date nights.

Between the roaring fire, crystal clear Hundredweight ice cubes, and vintage barware that she has collected over the years, Moger-Petraske is able to present the feel of a curated bar to her students. The essence of hospitality is palpable. “Our favorite NYC dining rooms and bars put just as much consideration and passion into their establishments,” she says. “From the fold of a napkin to the charm of a miniature salt boat, the clarity of the cube chilling your Penicillin, to the delicate Depression-era coupe your Water Lily is served in. It’s my hope that in the absence of our beloved bars that my guests feel inspired to create some of this magic in their own homes.”

Your Friendly Neighborhood Grocer

St. John Frizell, owner of Fort Defiance in Red Hook, Brooklyn, tried to make his restaurant function as a delivery and takeout business for a short while back when nobody knew how long the shutdowns would last. Since sending out quality meals in to-go boxes is no simple feat and can require menu changes and more, “it was a question of how much investment,” says Frizell.

“Is this the best way to invest the money that I have left? And I decided it was not, so we closed the restaurant in late March,” Frizell explains. Not long after, he reached out to family-owned organic farm co-op Lancaster Farm Fresh to see about obtaining some of its CSA boxes. He found that enough people in town were interested in claiming one of their own to set up an online store on Fort Defiance’s website. Getting a box of beautiful vegetables through contactless pickup outside the closed restaurant was a popular notion in a time when nobody knew how Covid was transmitted and the supermarket was to be avoided. Business grew and soon people began asking for other items. “And I wanted other things too, like, cheese and milk, and eggs, and bread, and just started to build from there,” Frizell says.

It was decided then that the change for Fort Defiance was going to have to be permanent, not just a temporary closure until things got back to normal for restaurants. “That was an important decision because you can’t really ride two horses at the same time,” says Frizell. “You have to make a decision and just go for it with your whole heart.” The new iteration of Fort Defiance as a general store has since gotten into the mail-order and holiday catering business as he and his steadfast team roll with the punches of what their neighbors in Red Hook might need.

“I don’t want this to come off as corny, but [what] we went through, you have to ask, ‘How can I help?’ Like, ‘How can I be of service here?’” Much like when Hurricane Sandy flooded Fort Defiance and most of the neighborhood in 2012, “we were all kind of in the same boat as we are now. We all had problems, but we were all very ready to help each other at the same time,” Frizell recalls of his community.

As another way to reach out, he started a newsletter called The Fort Defiance Gazette with announcements of new items in the store, promotions, and more. “It’s also filled with the same kind of bullshit I would talk to people about across the bar. They’re still getting the content from me, whether they like it or not,” Frizell laughs. “But it’s another way to connect, and then people email me back all the time. So there’s this dialogue happening, it’s just happening in a different space.”

Room-Temp and Ready To-Go

“Our business really came about as we were watching our industry fall apart around us and feeling really sad and helpless about that,” says Blake Walker, co-founder of drinks delivery service Day and Night Cocktails. He and fellow Amor y Amargo alum Sean Johnson mitigated grief with conversations about possibilities for projects, contemplating styles of cocktail to best suit a pandemic hellscape. They settled on the “Scaffa” — a room-temperature and undiluted mixture of spirits found in Jerry Thomas’s 1860s “The Bartender’s Guide.” Recently appearing on menus at bars like Amor y Amargo and the late Pegu Club, the Scaffa also boasts the at-home allure of being shelf-stable, so it won’t take up space in the refrigerator.

Unlike many to-go models that can arrive alongside complicated instructions, Day and Night’s drinks are poured from their bottles without fuss. “What you get is exactly the way we would serve it to you if you were sitting across the bar from us,” Walker explains. Each menu features a fresh, bright “Day” cocktail alongside a deeper, richer “Night” mixture. For those not sold on the warm drink concept, think of cold as a flavor inhibitor and know that the professionals have layered some very indulgent ones in there.

Refreshingly, Day and Night isn’t only about the drinks — like bartending, it’s about taking care of people. “We decided right off the bat that we’d do a donation for each sale to an organization called Bushwick Ayuda Mutua, which is a mutual aid organization in Bushwick that I was volunteering for,” says Walker. After the murder of George Floyd, all profits for the month of June went to the Movement for Black Lives. Because of the smaller scale of the venture, Walker is also able to have an encounter with every customer. “I don’t take that for granted at all,” he says. “Having that personal interaction [is] the closest that I can get to the across-the-bar experience that I’ve missed so much about my job as it was a year ago.”

By the time Walker and Johnson’s workplace reopened to tackle outdoor dining, they already had their own regulars at what was becoming more than just a side hustle. “It made us turn towards Day and Night as a potential alternative because, at least for us, the experience of going back to work was not pleasant.” Less money for more effort with the added bonus risk of catching a deadly virus is a hard sell.

Instead, Walker started working full time on Day and Night Cocktails in December, quickly finding a way to make it a fully legal enterprise. He can now pursue an LLC and, with that, the potential of permanence. “We also are open to the possibility that this is meant to be a to-go concept,” Walker says. “It’s impossible to know exactly what drinking culture is going to look like on the other end of this, and I think that there may be some kind of a liminal time where both the to-go and physical bar spaces coexist.”

The Future

Are all of these innovations and modifications to the classic bar experience worth it if they don’t somehow improve the way hospitality workers are treated or protected?

For Day and Night Cocktails, the commitment to supporting good causes extends to its own hurting community. “Something that remains incredibly important to us is that whatever our participation is with this industry, on the other side of Covid, we just want to make sure that we’re working towards an industry that takes care of its own better,” Walker says. “We want to be a part of that rebuilding process.”

The real pain of newly vacant real estate where beloved bars once were is hard to ignore and important to acknowledge. There will be more empty storefronts as time trundles on, with plenty of talent waiting in the wings to fill them with new concepts. “It’s going to be a really opportunistic time,” Walker observes. Hopefully, the entrepreneurs jumping at these opportunities will have more than just profit in mind.

“Our guests need to understand that we’re not expendable and disposable, and our government needs to know that, too,” says Walker. “We need to remind each other all the time that our work is important and valuable and we shouldn’t be [a] disposable commodity that’s part of this gajillion-dollar industry. We have to do a little bit better [of a] job taking care of each other.”

As creative as bartenders are getting with side gigs and business-wide pivots, many want to get back to the bar as much as patrons do. “It’s all just so antithetical to what we love to do that I just can’t wait to serve someone at the bar again,” Dorman says longingly.

Despite everything, I do detect enthusiasm when speaking with these hospitality professionals about what the future holds for bars. I want to believe that fantastic transformations lie ahead, because perhaps it’s not a return to “normal” that we should crave, but a hope for an evolution. Dorman gets it right when she says, “It feels like the music has definitely changed at our party or something.” Here’s hoping for a better playlist on the horizon.

*At the time of publishing, City Winery is temporarily closed.

The article How NYC Bartenders Are Building Pandemic-Proof Businesses appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/post-covid-bars-nyc/

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