Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"No. No coffee for you, Yoongi-ssi. I refuse. I'm still mad about Saturday."

"Jin-hyung, noooo. Please. Come on, I only cheated a little, okay? And I need your coffee to survive. I have two displays to set today. Two. Please, hyung. I'll die if you don't."

Jin just fixed him with a withering stare. Clearly he'd taken their last Uno match more seriously than Yoongi had anticipated. Drunk Yoongi had thought it was hilarious watching Jin realize what had happened after half a dozen cards had slid out of his dongsaeng's jacket sleeve, but now under-caffeinated Yoongi was suffering.

note to self, let hyung win more games.

Just as the two were engaged in a heated staring contest, one of the baristas walked over with a cup of coffee.

"Here, Yoongi-hyung. I've got your usual. Have a good day at work!"

"YAH! Kim Taehyung," Taehyung froze with his hand mid-air, clearly confused before Seokjin continued, "We do not serve drinks to the enemy. I almost had him, I can't believe you just turned around and caved like that, do you have any ide-"

Yoongi cradled the cup reverently and mouthed an appreciative "Thank you - sorry" to Taehyung as he turned slowly in an attempt to creep out the cafe while Seokjin was still occupied.

"The disrespect. I practically raised you. Like my own child."

At that, Taehyung recovered himself, "God I hope not. That would make mine and Jiminie's plan to seduce you super gross." He winked at Jin and turned back to the bar.

Jin's ears turned impossibly red as he spluttered, mumbling to himself about insubordination and betrayal.

"You owe me Yoongi-yah!"

Delayed caffeine aside, Yoongi had a good feeling about today.

++

When Yoongi had graduated with a degree in architecture and design, he'd envisioned himself sketching out plans for billion-won lofts and looking at absurdly priced designer furniture. But the demand for a freshly-graduated design student looking to actually get paid a living wage was much lower than he'd hoped. As he'd told one of the interviewers at his third design company, "Being paid in experience doesn't actually cover my grocery bill." The persistent discrimination against Omegas in high-paying, Alpha-dominated professions didn't help. Nevermind that it was still legal for companies to ask for secondary status information on applications - meaning some companies were immediately out of the question. It took two interviews before Yoongi realized he was going to have to get used to the suffocating feeling of scent-blocking gel.

Finding Paradise Designs had been so accidental, Yoongi still sometimes wonders how it happened. Following a string of politely-worded, but firmly dismissive emails from the most recent round of interviews, Yoongi got on the train just to get away.

He didn't go far from his apartment, not wanting to have to rely solely on the bus to get back. He just needed to be somewhere else. Be someone else. As he walked around Jongno-gu, through some of the typical tourist streets, he happened upon a strangely-themed café. What possessed him to enter, Yoongi doesn't know. Maybe fate. Maybe the idea of a hot coffee on a cold, sad, melodramatic winter day. Whatever the reason, nothing could have fully prepared Yoongi for the experience that was Unholy Grounds Café. The outside seemed relatively normal (aside from the name, that is), but the interior was completely vampire-themed. A chalk sign advertising the seasonal special "코피", a rose latte. Apparently complete with an actual vampire - with the broadest shoulders Yoongi had ever seen.

"Thank you, it's the gods apologizing for making my parents the strangest people I've ever met. And despite my beautiful face, I am not a vampire. And flattery, while greatly appreciated, will not get you free coffee, customer-nim." The beautiful not-a-vampire winked at Yoongi.

It had been a long day. He was unemployed, the last company he'd applied to had completely ghosted him, his scent gland felt itchy from how long he'd been wearing scent-blocker, he couldn't remember when he'd last slept through the night without anxiety waking him out of a dead sleep to remind him of his impending doom, and apparently now he'd completely lost the ability to keep his inside thoughts inside. And maybe it was the combined weight of all of these things that forced the hysterical, slightly panicked laughter out of Yoongi's mouth.

Behind the counter, the man's eyes went wide as Yoongi quickly spiraled from mild upset to a mortified panic.

ah, so that's what that feeling was. a panic attack.

Too many things at once, too many emotions and sensations all boiling over the metaphorical threshold. And sometimes, Yoongi was lucky and he could see the storm clouds from a distance and stuff all of the feelings deep down. Others, he didn't realize he'd been teetering on the edge of an episode until he was past the point of no return. This was one of the latter. He could feel his breathing getting wonkier despite trying to count them out and his legs refused to obey the primal scream in his brain telling him to just fucking run, jesus christ why are you still standing here out in the open, everyone can see you, you need to go.

In fact, instead of sprinting away, Yoongi felt himself sway precariously as the world seemed to get fuzzier and almost suffocatingly quiet. Everything in that moment had narrowed down to an all-consuming sense of danger and wrongness that he couldn't quite shake. Yoongi hadn't even realized that one of his hands had started to scratch furiously at his gel-covered scent gland until someone gently pried his fingers away.

The sudden awareness of another person nearby was not unlike being plunged into an icy lake and coming back up gasping for air. The cacophony of café sounds crashing back first. He could hear the clinking of cups and plates and silverware, the rhythmic pulse of the espresso machine. The gentle, but consistent hum of a conversation nearby. He could feel someone's hand in his as it rubbed soothing circles over his pulse point - just where his wrist and palm met. He could feel the vinyl of a booth bench beneath him and the solid tile of the floors. He could smell coffee and cakes and steamed milk and under all of that, a gentle, but distinctly alpha scent nearby.

As the panic slowly leeched away, the exhaustion settled into his limbs. Making his arms feel like lead, his head impossibly heavy. God, what he would give for the comfort of his own home, his nest, that one really soft blanket Jungkook gave him.

"Hey, hon. You don't have to move just yet, but do you need anything? Water? A hot chocolate? Maybe a snack?" the soft voice wasn't one he recognized.

Yoongi looked up and met the gentle gaze of yet another beautiful stranger. Two in one day, what were the odds.

"M'sorry," he croaked, his mouth was so dry.

"Oh no. No apologies for this. Sorry we moved you, we just figured you wouldn't want to keep standing in the lobby. Seokjin-hyung felt bad about touching you without asking, but we didn't want you to pass out or anything."

Yoongi quickly absorbed this information before, "Seokjin-hyung?"

"Oh! Yeah. Tall? Gorgeous? Impossible shoulders?"

"Jimin-ah. Clearly my shoulders aren't impossible. Please stop talking about them with customers," a new voice interrupted as they walked up to the booth.

Seokjin turned to Yoongi and bowed slightly, "Kim Seokjin, owner of Unholy Grounds, at your service. I hope you're feeling better?"

Yoongi nodded, "Min Yoongi. I'm so sorry about having a breakdown in your lobby. Please forgive me."

The man next to Yoongi - was it Jimin? - tsked at that, "Again! No apologies necessary. Jin-hyung cries all the time. I totally walked in on him ranting hysterically to the pastries in the back fridge yesterday."

Seokjin blushed, "Yah. Park Jimin. Don't you have things to do?? Coffee to brew? Tables to clean??"

Jimin turned once more to Yoongi before leaving his seat, "He loves me, I promise," he patted Yoongi's knee softly, "Let me know if I can get you anything."

Seokjin sat down across from Yoongi

"Did you want to talk about it?"

Yoongi momentarily bristled a bit at the idea of spilling his secrets to a stranger, but living in Seoul had been lonely. Sure, he had Jungkook, but the younger omega was still so young and Yoongi felt a strong sense of responsibility to shield his dongsaeng from any unnecessary burdens; Yoongi's loneliness was definitely an unnecessary burden.

As much as Yoongi wanted to decline Seokjin's offer, clearly carrying all of this alone was starting to weigh him down. And now that he'd scratched the scent-blocker off, he was sure Seokjin could smell how unsettled he still felt. Before he could convince himself otherwise, "I don't know what I'm doing anymore."

Yoongi took in a big breath and held it, as if he could somehow dam the flow - will his lips to hold back the torrent of words already building.

"This isn't where I thought I'd be right now and it's definitely not what I went to school for and I totally understand that you don't always get your ideal job, but I just keep hitting walls. I got fired from my weird little retail job that was helping to pay the bills a month ago - because I reported the manager for being a creep and his friends worked in HR and somehow it was suddenly my fault. I've had thirteen interviews with design companies in the last three weeks. Two of them completely ghosted me. And four of them eliminated me just because they thought I 'should be home tending pups and letting my alpha do the labor' like this is the fucking dark ages or something. I'm good at design, too. I ranked well in classes and on my projects and my mentor would have taken me on if his team wasn't full but he couldn't and I'm running low on savings and my studio apartment isn't big, but living still costs money and I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I even applied to some regular retail places in the meantime, but no one is emailing me back and I'm running out of options."

Yoongi's chest was heaving at the end of it all and his scent had sharpened with anxiety, vision going a bit wobbly as he started to get worked up again. He didn't have somewhere to go back to, ties with his parents had been cut years ago. So he was alone and a failure and just hoping that he'd be able to find the right job - all for what. It all felt so futile and meaningless. Find a job to make enough money to live, so he could keep going to work? To live? To work? To -

"Yoongi-ssi, can you breathe with me? I'm going to count to four and back down again, can you try to match your breathing?" Seokjin gently reached out to take Yoongi's hand, running his thumb over the knuckles as he counted steadily. After a few minutes, Yoongi felt more anchored, less like his sanity would float away on a gentle breeze.

"Seokjin-ssi, I am so unbelievably sorry. I promise I'm usually less," he gestured helplessly, "whatever this is. It's been a day."

"Please. Call me Jin-hyung. I feel like we've had a moment. If you're comfortable, that is." Seokjin continued, "And Jimin was right. I do sometimes cry in the back freezer. The croissant dough is very accepting."

Yoongi snorted.

"This café was not my original plan. I took over for my parents two years ago. My siblings were never really here and this was the thing they built. I could have let it go, but keeping it alive," he cackled, "felt like the right thing to do. Even if it did mean moving here by myself."

"But I've come to terms with this new direction. And the café keeps my lights on and I get to meet all sorts of people. It doesn't hurt business that we're right in the middle of a tourist trap, either. And it took a while, but I'm not alone anymore. I've built up a little community. Some support. So I don't have to carry the heavy things by myself. The load is lighter with many hands."

It felt sort of like a confession, like this wasn't something Seokjin told other people often. Revealing that he hadn't meant to end up here. It was a comfort, really. A relief to hear someone else say that sometimes paths don't lead you where you expected. Yoongi felt just a little lighter knowing that he wasn't alone in this sense of being displaced, of being unknown.

"Thank you."

"Oh! And I actually might be able to help you find a job sort of close to what you're looking for. Not quite prestigious, but it is in home design. And I can guarantee the owner isn't a creep. My cousin's husband owns a store not far from here and I know he was looking for someone to help design their floor displays. Does that sound like something you'd be willing to do?"

Yoongi just stared incredulously, "Are you serious? Like, you're not messing with me right now?"

"Min Yoongi-ssi," he said sternly, "I wouldn't joke about this. I know it isn't exactly what you've been applying to, but at least it'd be some income and you would be able to keep up with some of the relevant design trends."

Yoongi felt like his head was spinning.

"I'll do it. Just tell me who I need to talk to."

Seokjin clapped delightedly, "Excellent! Have you heard of Paradise Home Design?"

Chapter Text

I haven't abandoned this work, but I don't have a full update yet either (my life is a mess rn). I just wanted to hop on here and encourage you to call your reps. Call your MPs, your senators, your presidents, prime ministers, and monarchs. Urge them to push for a permanent ceasefire in Gaza.

Palestinians in Gaza have been pleading with us for TWO MONTHS to amplify their voices, to call for ceasefire, to fight on their behalf.  There is a shocking percentage of the population that remains apathetic or apolitical on the genocide of an entire population. If you aren't already, I urge you to speak out. If we all speak, there is no choice but to listen.

So call your reps. Demand a ceasefire. Boycott (BDS has a list). Keep your foot on the gas.

And if you're saying "oh, but I'm not really educated, I don't really know what's happening." Please take the time to educate yourself.  There are scores of documentaries and books on the topic, a few being:

Al Jazeera's series on the Nakba, Born In Gaza, Farha (both on netlfix), 5 Broken Cameras, Jenin Jenin (on yt).

Books: Ten Myths About Israel by Ilan Pappé, The Punishment of Gaza by Gideon Levy, The Palestine Laboratory by Anthony Loewenstein, Blaming the Victims by Ibrahim Abu-Lughod, Janet L. Abu-Lughod, G.W. Bowersock, et all., Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions by Omar Barghouti (all of these are free, I'll put l1nks in the end notes), On Zionist Literature and Men in the Sun both by Ghassan Kanafani.

You can also visit thepalestineacademy .com and decolonizepalestine .com 

follow journalists in Gaza like Motaz Azaiza, Bisan Owda, Hind Khoudary, Ahmed Hijazi, Plestia Alaquad, Saleh Aljafarawi... (there are so many more). These journalists are all primary sources and it's a direct link to what is actually happening in Gaza. 

Remember to think critically, look for sources when you see people posting things, keep your eyes open for propaganda and avoid people spreading it. 

Finally, probably my least popular point, if your faves (regardless of who they are) are making music or movies or content w zionists, do not consume that content.

DO NOT CONSUME THE CONTENT <3 PLEASE. Your artist will be okay, but Gaza has over 15,000 dead and zionism is perpetuating the occupation, apartheid, ethnic cleansing and genocide of Palestinians.  

Protest! Resist!  

I love you all, free Palestine! 

(and Congo and West Papua and Tigray and Haiti and Hawai'i and Sudan, because no one is free until we're all free). 

Until liberation, urlocalborabot