Emit: You need some rest. Apparently time travelling has its own draining effects that I haven’t fully studied yet. And… sorry for putting you in danger.
Emma: For the last time, if it wasn’t for you I would be dead already. It’s me who has to apologize because I… I screwed up with that girl so bad. God, this girl. I’m not even sure where are we supposed to look for her.
Emit: We’ll give it more thought tomorrow. It’s not like she went to break up with her boyfriend straight away.
Yoongi’s not one for nerves when it comes to basketball. It’s just not one of those things he lets himself stress about. He knows he’s good and when he’s playing, it’s one of the only times he feels like he has shit under control.
But it’s just. It’s a huge play off. The final and he’s the captain and people are expecting things from him and his brother has come to every single game of his since he was like, ten and he’s not gonna be at this one and for whatever stupid reason Yoongi doesn’t feel so reassured anymore.
He’s dressed in all his gear, hanging in the locker room before any of the team has arrived. He’s trying to amp himself up, jumping up and down on the spot for that reason and also because it’s damn cold in the locker room without a dozen other bodies pressed too close against him
Releasing a shaky breath he steels himself, looks over at the grimy mirror and levels his reflection with a glare. He needs to get his shit together, seriously.
‘This isn’t something to get worked up over,’ Yoongi says to himself. ‘We’ve totally got this under control. I have this under control come on. I’m Min fucking Yoongi, this is nothing–’
Yoongi almost jumps a foot in the air. He whirls, cheeks flushing and sees a figure decked out in black standing against a locker. Namjoon’s grinning, dimples digging into his cheeks and all seven of his facial piercings flashing in the shitty locker lighting.
‘What are you doing here?’ Yoongi demands, that embarrassment curling around his ribs like a vice. Namjoon just scoffs again.
‘Well, hello Mr. Grumpy,’ he has the audacity to waggle his fingers in Yoongi’s direction, bats his eyes and Yoongi wants to cuss him out but he just ends up blushing harder despite himself.
Kim Namjoon is in the year below though he’s smart enough to be in university, which keeps the school from expelling him. He gets detention slips every week for getting caught smoking and the amount of metal in his face and the knot of his tie always looks more like a noose and Yoongi often wonders if that’s part of Namjoon’s weird sense of humour.
Sometimes he wears make up, like some idol boy or something. One time he showed up to school with pastel purple hair so he’d stand out even more than he did already. He was also one of the few openly gay students at the school. Which was just. It was something. It was definitely something.
He didn’t have many friends and seemed to like it that way. His close knit group consisted of two others. Kim Seokjin was Yoongi’s year and often times hung out inside his own locker playing on his phone. Jung Hoseok was Namjoon’s year, a giant flirt and notorious for threatening to kick the living shit out of people if they so much as looked at one of his friends funny. And after a dude who’d scribbled ‘FREAK’ on Kim Seokjin’s locker after locking him inside wound up with a broken arm from mysterious causes the next day, everyone just tended to leave the three of them alone.
Needless to say Yoongi didn’t have much to do with them. Namjoon, however… Namjoon was just… Relentless? That might not be the right word. He wasn’t horrible, by any means. He just showed up a lot. And Yoongi didn’t exactly shoo him away even if the guy irritated him beyond belief.
They’d hung out a couple of times. Yoongi had taken them out in the car he’d borrowed from his brother and they’d driven up a hill and eaten burgers as they watched the city lights. They went to a movie together. Sometimes Namjoon would send him links to music over KakaoTalk. One time, they sat under the bleachers during a free period and listened to music, sharing a pair of headphones. Yoongi’s heart had been racing the entire time, thinking or what might happen if they were caught.
He hasn’t told anyone about any of this. He’s not sure if Namjoon has either but sometimes he swears he sees Kim Seokjin grinning at him in class, but they guy’s weird and it might not mean anything. It’s not public knowledge that Namjoon and Yoongi sometimes hang out by any means.
(It’s no-one’s fucking business that Namjoon had called their last hang out a date and Yoongi had not corrected him. Or that they’d held hands or that when Yoongi dropped Namjoon at home, he’d kissed Yoongi’s cheek and Yoongi had grinned into his pillow like an idiot.)
‘Seriously, Joon-ah,’ Yoongi says and he softens his voice a little now. ‘It’s the weekend, I’m pretty sure you’ve never set foot in a locker room in your life. What are you doing here?’
Namjoon shrugs, wanders over without a care in the world and Yoongi has to look up at him a bit because Namjoon to his annoyance is a decent amount taller than he is.
‘I knew you’d be nervous, hyung,’ Namjoon says, smile warm and Yoongi’s heart does a funny little kick. ‘I figured you’d need some extra support.’
Yoongi puffs himself out, insulted. ‘Who said I was nervous?’
‘Please,’ Namjoon says. He waves to indicate Yoongi’s hands. ‘Your nails are bitten to the nub and when you told me your brother couldn’t come you were just fiddling with your sleeves the entire time. It was cute. You’re cute.’
Yoongi’s heart swoops at that and he has the stupidest urge to hide his face in his hands.
‘I’m not cute,’ Yoongi says.
‘Sure you’re not,’ Namjoon grins. ‘You know you’ve got this, hyung. I’ve seen you play before, you’ll kick the other team’s ass and it’ll be awesome. I’ll even take some photos for your hyung, if you want.’
Namjoon’s annoying. He likes to tease Yoongi about everything and anything and talks philosophy like some sort of schmuck. Has the biggest boner over fucking Camus or whatever his name is.
But he’s so considerate, and just soft and Yoongi has no idea why Namjoon decided to set his sights on him. Min Yoongi, class president, captain of the basketball team who to everyone’s knowledge was straight. He doesn’t know why, but a part of him is just so so thankful for it and so he barely thinks before he grabs Namjoon by his choker and tugs him down for a kiss.
His lips tingle, Namjoon tastes like coffee, Yoongi’s kicking himself for not doing this sooner because when Namjoon smiles against his lips, he honestly doesn’t think he’s felt so good in his entire life.
There’s whooping and hollering and Yoongi recoils just in time for the locker room door to crash open, his team-mates flooding in and hesitating when they see the two of them. Yoongi forces his face to fall neutral.
‘Oh Namjoon!’ Jimin, their small forward’s, eyes go wide. ‘What are you doing here?’
It’s not said with any malice. Jimin isn’t the type for malice, he’s just curious. Which makes sense because it’s common knowledge that Kim Namjoon has skipped every gym class in existence unless Jung Hoseok can drag him along all but kicking and screaming. Jimin’s just got this small crease to his brow, but he’s not recoiling or anything like that.
But the others, they’re less welcoming. No-one’s outright hostile but they look uncomfortable. As if Namjoon is contagious or something. The one’s that are already shirtless try to cover themselves and Yoongi kinda wants to be sick.
‘I got lost,’ Namjoon says and he’s smiling, not phased by any of it because that’s just how he is. He’s used to it. ‘Big school and all. Yoongi was giving me directions.’
‘Oh,’ Jimin says, and he’s grinning big again, accepting the lie without question. ‘Well, okay then, have a good night!’
‘Thanks,’ Namjoon says, smiling easily. ‘Good luck with your game.’
And then he’s gone, wedging past Yoongi and out into the hall. There’s silence for a long moment and Yoongi is just praying no-one will say anything. He doesn’t know if he can cope with anyone slandering Namjoon. Doesn’t know what he’ll do in the face of it.
‘You know there are some girls who made a banner with your name on it, hyung,’ Jimin says, elbowing him in the side as he winks. ‘Pretty special, might finally be able to land yourself a girl you like after this game, huh?’
The smile Yoongi gives him is more of a grimace and he laughs even as his stomach twists in knots but Jimin doesn’t seem to notice.
(Later, when Yoongi scores a goal in the final minute of the game, seconds counting down and crowds screaming, it’s not the over the top banner, with his name spelled out in bright yellow that he sees. It’s Namjoon’s face he sees in the crowd, smiling back at him, Yoongi can’t help but grin as he pictures it during the celebrations with his team that night.)
also me, reading any zimbits fic ever:
jack is so beautiful and cold and powerful liKE ICE and eric richard bittle is the MOTHERFUCKING SUN SHAKESPEARE IS WEEPING IN HIS GRAVE HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A MORE BEAUTIFUL METAPHOR
A polyfidelity Ot4 but 1 out of the 4 is a serial killer. Any cool details for that situation?
Okay, I’m going to butcher this but I’ll give it a shot!
Person A, B, C, and D are in a polyfidelity relationship. A is a serial killer (they were a victim of child abuse or/and domestic violence and now kill abusers) One day B catches A and is terrified. B tells C who secretly confronts A. A tries to run away but C catches A and ties them up. D has known about all this for a while but accepts it and is working on getting A to stop. When D comes home they try to defend A to an angry C and a terrified B. After much debate they all agree to let A go free as long as they never kill anybody again. When they go back to release A s/he is gone. A week later on the news they hear about a string of murders in the next state over.
When your soulmate is eating something you can taste it on your lips, just slightly. And maybe feel it on your lips too, like the powder of a cinnamon donut, except you can’t lick it away, so you’re just stuck with it like ‘damn you asshole, lick your goddamn lips! This is annoying!’
If they’re having cravings you do too. Sometimes you’ll get cravings for what you’ve just eaten.
If you taste something like strawberry lip gloss you know their either getting ready for a night out or kissing someone. Or maybe they just like the taste.
You constantly lick your lips when they’re eating something you like because 'oh gods this taste so good, what is it?’ or 'I haven’t had that in ages!’
You get jealous of the fact that they have such nice food ALL THE DAMN TIME.
When they’re eating something you don’t like you try to not lick your lips for so long. It gets annoying and is hard to do for a while so you just put on lip gloss. Then you think 'awe, man. What if they don’t like… And that’s why they put on lip gloss the other week?’
One day you try to send them a recipe. So you just, like, munch on a piece of toast, then lick some honey, then eat some banana so they’ll try your favourite meal and you’ll have that taste on your lips without actually eating it.
One day you think 'what kind of idiot eats peanut butter with jam - holy shit it’s an American! Or someone in America… Maybe they just like it? Oh god will I have to take 20-something hour flight to find them? Uuuhhhggghhh!’
You’re in the middle of a test but just can’t stop licking your lips because 'oh god glazed donuts…’
You can’t place a taste but you know you’ve tasted it before.
After going to Harry Potter world you realise 'it’s butterbeer!’ and then you try a butterbeer cappuccino or whatever and are just - 'goddamn it you jerk you ruined all my experiences!’
You start craving a signature dish from your town that is only served there. You go to the restaurant and see three people eating the meal, so you just walk up to the counter, order something that is nothing like the dish or something that you know that person hates because every time after you eat it you taste mouthwash.
You calmly sit down and just watch the people as you eat your meal. The person you least expected it to be - oh god it can’t be - looks up and is just like 'fuck’ and has that expression on their face.
They look around and see you. Their eyes widen at what you’re eating. You’re the only one eating it. You smirk and wave at them because 'haha sucker you laughed when I was teased about my soulmate and it’s you!’
Or one day you turn to your best friend like 'hey, can you see if anyone is eating -’ your eyes widened as you see they’re eating the EXACT MEAL you can taste.
Or a different ending where you follow a celebrity on Instagram and just see a picture of a steak with the caption being 'why the hell do I taste banana and honey… I’m eating a steak!’
And you just drop your toast. Your family stares at you as you squeal. Then you realise 'shit. That could be anyone.’ But you do taste steak… 'But anyone can be eating steak!’ You rush to the kitchen and pull out dark chocolate and go to the bathroom and start brushing your teeth.
Soon you see another picture of a steak and a caption of 'okay, now I’m tasting ANOTHER thing that clashes with my meal. Soulmate, please let me eat in peace… AND WHO HAS DARK CHOCOLATE AND TOOTHPASTE?!?! Will my future babies eat like this too? God save me…’