pinkie pai

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love me knot ❈ park jihoon

you and your soulmate are connected by a red string tied around your pinky. pay attention because you might feel the tug in your heart.

a sappy piece of fiction about you & park jihoon. angst & fluff. soulmate au. 


zero ; letters and red strings

There once was a girl who sat in a chair at a cafe. It was one of those chairs where you feel more comfortable leaning forward than leaning back. One of those chairs that never sits quite level on the floor. But to her, these cafe chairs felt like home. To her, it was one of those cafe’s where the barista knows her order by heart, and even waves at her when she comes in.

It had been a while, though. Three times had the spring air turned into a refreshing summer since she had sat in this chair last. By now, the barista had forgotten her order. The little notes she would scribble on the wooden table had been washed off. Her absolute favorite painting in the whole shop had been taken off the wall and replaced. However, it still was the same cafe from three spring’s ago.

The girl was hiding, at least, she was trying her best. She let her hair fall over her face as she continued to look at a pale envelope as she repeatedly overturned it in her palms. The tugging was nearly as light as the clouds at this point. It was easy to ignore and even easier to forget about. The cherry string had been slowly fraying every second. The girl was waiting for it to break.

What is a soulmate, she thought, what exactly? The universe should make our connections out of steel instead of a red string. Steel is strong and sturdy and hard to conquer. Strings can fray. Strings can get tangled and knotted. Strings can get cut.

I suppose, the thoughts continued to bounce between her temples, I can’t be mad at you, Universe, this is quite the unusual predicament.

She imaged the universe giving her a pat on the back and sighing a bit. She could really accept the universes’ pity now. That would be okay.

People had come and gone as she waited across the cafe. She waited for him to stand up, brush off his pants a bit, and leave to use the restroom like he always had. Risking a glance up, she looked to see if his spot was empty. When she noticed it wasn’t, she turned her attention back to the letter.

The letter was sealed three springs’ ago, and it seemed to cry, “Open me, please. It’s so suffocating in here.”

With plenty of spare time, the girl let her fingers curl around the ridges of the letter. Breaking the seal, and taking out an old piece of paper, with old thoughts, and with the same feelings, the girl read the letter she had written that time ago. When she finished, she calmly folded the letter and placed it back inside its envelope.  

Another glance up proved to the girl that the universe was helping her out with this bit. He stood up, brushed up his pants, and merged with the sea of people. She waited a bit, staring. The one thing she did not want is the other girl to reach across the table and read some of the most vulnerable thoughts she has ever had.

After waiting a minute or so, give or take a few seconds, the girl pushed herself up. She imagined the universe placing a hand on her back and nudging her, “Go, go!”

She stopped at the other table and cleared her throat so the other girl would notice her.

“Um, hello. Could you do me a favor? I forgot to give this to him, and I was wondering if you can make sure he gets it?”

She let go a beautiful smile, “Of course. Are you a friend of his?”

“Yeah,” she said tapping her foot, “You could say that.”

Having enough interaction for her whole day, the girl sat the letter on his side of the table. Off to her right, she could have sworn someone had called out to her. Maybe she imagined things. Either way, she took it as her cue and pivoted away on her heel.

“Good,” the universe whispered in her ear as she pushed open the glass door to the cafe, “You did good.”

stozier || hand holding

this is just a random blurb i felt compelled to write and it may be bad but it’s cute ok

the losers are all hanging out at the drive in movie theater and they’re in mike’s truck, so they’re all huddled in the bed of the his pickup truck and they’re all chatting excitedly about the movie they’re about to see. stan and richie are pressed against each other, a blanket wrapped around them and they’re hands are to their sides and like every few seconds, richie will  stretch his pinky out to touch stan’s pinky. stan doesn’t really pay attention to it at first, but then richie hooks his pinky around stan’s and stan shyly glances over at him and richie’s smiling, causing stan to blush. so the movie is playing and like everyone is so focused on it and so into it, except richie, who flips stan’s hand over, causing the boy to look down in confusion. richie places his own hand over stan’s and slips his fingers inbetween the spaces between stan’s fingers and richie looks over at stan, who seems so shocked by this. but he loves the feeling of richie’s fingers intertwined with his and his heart is beating really fast and his face is hot and he’s embarrassed to look up at richie.

richie lets go after a few minutes and stan deflates, but he’s too nervous to take back richie’s hand.

so after the movie and on the way home, as mike is driving in the front with bev and ben, who are all singing along loudly to the music on the radio, stan finds the courage to reach over and take richie’s hand into his own. richie looks up at him and smiles and stan smiles back before moving closer to richie and letting his head fall against the taller boy’s shoulder.

tagging: @t-rash-m-outh @rainy-kaspbrak @stanleyurisisalive @trashmoutheds @king-wheezy-trash
red - Minho-centric, jongtae, one-sided 2min

~1.8k words, pg-13, college au/soulmate au

He never really wanted to meet the person he’s attached to.

Minho has always seen them.

They coat his world in color; little shreds of red lay across the roads like perfect lattices, constantly moving, constantly changing. When he was younger he’d sit out on the porch and watch as they rose with the snow. Sometimes they’d snap in his vision and fade away. They’re interesting for sure, but they set him apart. Minho is the only one who can see them; Minho is the only one who can hear them beating, vibrating. They’re almost sentient, he thinks, but really, they’re just there. They don’t even trip him up—the strings—they’re just… there. Almost everyone has them.

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Hot Wit: Yeehaw! You got ‘im, Applejack!
Applejack: Y'all didn’t think ah was gonna let 'im get away with robbin’ that there bank, didja? Besides, ah could use the bounty to buy me a licorice stick!
Bad Wit: Consarnit! Foiled again!