Casual Soulmate AU that I’m just gonna leave here

So what if you were born knowing the time you realised your Soulmate was your Soulmate, like not the time you met but the time you realised it was them? 

  • Bitty was born knowing the time 8:45am
  • It was a pretty common time of day so he always knew the likelihood of him finding them anytime soon was pretty low
  • Come on, 8:45 was train times, the first bell before 9am classes, and so on. Times when you meet people
  • Maybe once he was older and 8:45 would be the time he went to work, that’s when he was going to realise that that coworker he was close to was the love of his life
  • So when he got to Samwell and his orientation for Hockey started at 8:45 he wasn’t surprised. 
  • In fact, it felt a little like a joke to be honest
  • But he couldn’t help but carefully watch his new teammates to see if any of them seemed likely. 
  • He found they all had something he really liked, but all platonic. Besides, they all had their own soulmates already. 
  • Well most of them, the team’s Captain, Jack Zimmerman, seemed to have found his soulmate in hockey. If that was even possible. 
  • In fact, that’s a common chirp amongst the Hockey bros
  • So Bitty resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn’t find his SO anytime soon
  • As time passed every so often Bitty would think that maybe at 8:45, just before a 9am lecture he would realise it was that guy who sat next to him and he’d rush over
  • And as he grows closer to Jack he started to think “What if it were a trip back from Annie’s with coffee I’d realise it was him?” 
  • As much as he tries to suppress his growing feelings for Jack (Because it obviously wasn’t him) he can’t help but hope and fall for him
  • Then in Jack’s final year, one day while they’re making breakfast at 8:40 they somehow end up on the discussion of soulmate times. 
  • It’s rude to ask people who haven’t met their SO’s time but Bitty is chatting with Jack, Shitty and Lardo, Ransom and Holster, who have each other.
  • “So how did you guys know for sure it was them?” 
  • “Well who else are you going to be hanging out with at 4:20am?” Shitty laughs. 
  • “I needed glitter in the next thing I know Shits has three different colours and it was suddenly oh so clear.” Lardo explains at Bitty’s raised eyebrow
  • “Ours was 4:53pm. Pretty random but like, in the middle of the day. It could literally have been anything that made us realised.” Ransom mumbles 
  • “Then how did you know?” Bitty asks
  • “Rans kept almost missing his 5pm lectures because he always napped at 4, so I always woke him up around 10 to 5, and one time he said ‘what would I do without you?’ and we just knew.” Holster grinned at Ransom. 
  • “The eco system would fail” Ransom said soppily. 
  • “Y’all are lucky, 8:45 is pretty much a time when you see people. Nothing spectacular happens then, and it’s just such a common time! - Jack, could you turn off the timer?” 
  • The timer had gone off and instead of turning it off Jack just stared at Bitty. 
  • “Jack?” Bitty asked as he turned to turn the time off on the oven, only to notice the time display on the cooker. 
  • 8:45am flashing at him
  • “Oh.” He looked up at Jack. Who was staring straight back at him. “Oh.” 
  • “Do you, uh, wanna go to Annie’s for a coffee?” Jack asked hesitantly. 
  • “Sure.” Bitty is obviously in shock but also so freaking happy because Jack in love with hockey Zimmerman is his soulmate
  • The other four sit there for a moment and then - 
  • “We just witnessed something beautiful” 
  • Shitty probably cries tbh 
  • Poor zimbits get chirped endlessly for it though

Things said to me by my coworker;

  • “ I have to protect you because you’re small. ”
  • “ I have to go to the bathroom. I have to tinkle. ”
  • “ I mean I’m not really into dudes, but I would marry that guy. ”
  • “ Listen, listen… fuck you. ”
  • “ He can’t be in love with you he’s like eighty. ”
  • “ Did he look at your boobs? Do you want me to beat him up? ”
  • “ I peed on the rocks and it was like a spiritual experience. ”
  • “ Did somebody have a big bowl of grumpy for breakfast? ”
  • “ I would kill you for some pizza right about now. ”
  • “ I’m gonna buy you some gas station nachos. ”
  • “ I’m like a secret genius. ”
  • “ I just act dumb so society will accept me. ”
  • “ Will you pity date my little brother? ”
  • “ I tried shrooms once, I thought I was a transformer. ”
  • “ If you get that cops number I will make you a five star Ramen dinner. ”
  • “ Here’s to deadbeat dads, am I right? ”
  • “ Fuck, fuckity fucking fuck. I’m fucked. ”
  • “ This tastes like dirt… but I kind of like that. ”
  • “ I’m hip. I vape. ”
  • “ I’m bitter because everyone is taller than me. ”
  • “ You’re like fly paper for creepy old dudes with empty bank accounts. ”
  • “ I’m not saying you’re wrong, but you’re super fucking wrong. ”
  • “ I would say ‘fight me’ but you would probably kick my ass. ”
  • “ I’m really good at drinking alcohol. ”
  • “ Pinch my cheeks again and I’ll bite you. ”
  • “ Shit, I just pooped all over my own life dreams. ”

*gasp* Did I draw Wes Mitchell as a Tim Burton animations character? Why yes, I think I did. I’ll just leave this here then. *casually strolls away*

(I was going to wait and post this once I’d finished Travis as well, but his gorgeous mocha skin is proving the downfall of my graphite pencil.)

Watch on jisawang.tumblr.com

I’ll just casually leave this here. You’re welcome ;D

If Only In My Dreams

Long Way Down

Oliver didn’t so much wake as become slowly aware of the depth and evenness of his breathing, the heaviness of his limbs, the mildly uncomfortable twist of his t-shirt over his torso. Sunlight lay warm across his face, dappling his eyelids in red and gold and red and gold. Bare feet shuffled softly across the carpet, cloth rustling and wood scraping against wood as dresser drawers opened and closed.

He drew in a particularly deep breath, let it go on a lengthy sigh, and leaned his weight more firmly into the too-soft mattress. A soft curse and quiet whine pulled the corners of his lips up.

“Oh, you’re up.” Oliver drew in a deep breath through his nose as answer. Feet shuffled closer across the floor, and fingertips brushed over his cheek, tickling across the stubble on his jawline. “Did you fall asleep here again?”

Her voice was soft with checked laughter, a little teasing as her palm slid down his neck to cup against his shoulder. Oliver eased his eyes open, lashes fluttering against the filtering daylight—but he held no resentment against it for the golden halo it made around her face in loose curls.

“Hey.” His voice came out gravel-rough with sleep as he smiled up at her, bright, sweeping relief blossoming behind his heart. “You’re home.”

She bit at her lip, grin crooked as he laid his hand over hers on his shoulder and leveraged himself to sitting. “So are you, looks like. And in my bed. You moving in?”

“I needed to be here,” he answers, gently rubbing his hand up and down from her fingertips, over her knuckles, to her wrist, back again. “Needed to be here when you came back.”

His brow furrowed, something about that not seeming quite right.

She laughed, light and fond, and slipped her hand from beneath his to turn away, free hand sweeping out to gesture at a suitcase, open on the floor by the dresser. “Well, you can help me unpack.”

She took a step towards the case and panic jumped up Oliver’s throat. He caught her wrist in one hand, setting his palm in the dip of her waist—against the soft strip of skin between the hem of her crop top and the waist of her skirt—to turn her body back towards him. “No—stay.”

Huffing tolerantly, she wrinkled her nose, pushing her glasses up a little, and tilted her head at him. “Oliver, it was only a couple of months.”

“Stay,” he pleaded quietly, letting go of her wrist to frame her waist in both hands. He looked up at her, chin tipped back, the light behind him softening the edges of her face, muting the bright color of her mouth. “Stay.”

Her lips parted and she nodded. “Okay.” She laid her hands on his shoulders, bent slowly towards him. “Okay.”

His eyes slipped closed when her breath hit his face, and her lips brushed his so soft, over and over, almost the ghost of a kiss—strangely melancholy for their first. She pulled away and he nearly rose off the bed chasing after her. She chuckled, but the sense that something was wrong was rising in his chest like pressure.

Oliver opened his eyes, mouth still damp from hers, and furrowed his brow. The soft fuzziness around her face was becoming a blur, obscuring her features. “Felicity,” he breathed. “Where did you go?”

Her hands planed up the slopes of his shoulders, tracing up the column of his neck to curl around his jaw, behind his ears, tipping his head up further. She leaned down like she would kiss him again, but just as her lips touched his, she whispered, “When you find me, let me know.”

Oliver jerked awake in a cold sweat, heart thundering against his sternum and body shaking with adrenaline. Wild-eyed, he searched the dim early-gloom of Felicity’s bedroom, uncurling stiffly from the end of her bed where he only remembered sitting down some hours before.

The room was empty.

He was alone.

She was still gone.