#'i am like the cheese. usually in a building. and aging'

[keeps-ache]

it happened again lmao 👍

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

The Breaking point Analysis

Warning: do not read this post if you have not read chapter 36! You have been WARNED

Also I wrote this when I was sleepy at 2 am so sorry if it doesn’t make any sense.

Now I usually try to avoid making posts where I openly discuss stuff in my story- but after all the issues this chapter gave me- I wanted to do this.

The breaking point is a weird chapter for me it’s both one of my favorite and least favorite chapters- but it’s a contradictory chapter within itself. It’s one that is both a payoff and build up in a sort of way…

Think about it in Chapter 33 Tomas writes this in his journal:

‘To die and leave behind so many unfinished things was my worst fear. A fear that may very well become a reality given my current situation. “You expect me to still be alive by then?”

What was Tomas’s worst fear became Asha’s breaking point, and it’s all so tragic when you realize the similarities between the two. Both were fairly young when they got to meet the stars and ended up running into trouble with the crimson court or a seperate entity armed with similiar powers. Both being novices had to rely on a yellow/blue star to keep them safe while said star worked with an ulterior motive.

It’s strange right?

We don’t know how Tomas’s adventure or experience with Sirius ended. All we know for now is that he did not want his daughter to get involved in his past/legacy. Which ofc in and of itself can and does bring up a lot of questions but the worst part is that Tomas is gone and now he’ll never get a chance to fairly explain himself to his daughter. Their relationship and perhaps even her perception of him will change because of this which is something I think we could all say wouldn’t have been something Tomas would have ever wanted.

For all the work Tomas put in to build and help others he couldn’t stop his worst fear from coming true- and that’s what makes it all even worse.

But the tragedy or rather my favorite part of the breaking point isn’t just there- it’s in everything Asha doesn’t say, or rather what she inadvertently confronts herself with.

When Asha’s justification for the past 5 years of her life unravels who do we see appear before her? Everyone higher on the social ladder, with even the apprentices making sneer remarks on how Asha was never one of them, how she’s unwanted or mocking her for Cepheus. It’s a sharp contrast to how she dismisses their mistreatment of her, but deep down she does care and it really does bother her

So many things she’s told Ceph that she’s seemingly gotten over comes back to haunt her in this conversation- not having powers, not having a noble title or not being able to win Ignacio’s heart, not being able to believe in wishes after the power failed to save her father and grandmother but it’s not just her realizing it, but it’s her hating herself for it.

She hates herself so much that she believes all the mistreatment she receives is justified because of it. She hates herself for purposelessly existing in a world with so many fantastical beings and people. But most of all she blames herself for not being able to save her father and grandmother.

Remember this line from Chapter 33? It’s the question Sabino confronts her with:

“Do you think your father would’ve valued this kingdom over the wellbeing of his only daughter?”

And Asha cannot answer. She in fact just changes the subject!

But it’s worth mentioning the things she thinks in that moment:

The answer seemed so obvious, but their unfinished star maps and broken dreams had made her wonder.

Shes doubting the love her father had for her (which has aged like cheese lol) because remember she could plan to make star maps in advance with him but all magnifico had to do was show up one night and her father would promptly cancel with her. We see this in one of her dreams:

Chapter 12: the dream

“Papa?” she whispered.

“Tomorrow,” he said softly, in a tone that made her heart sink.

That was what he’d always tell her on nights when he was too busy to take her stargazing. When his friend would come to whisk him away for weeks, maybe even months at a time.

Her heart began to ache as she cast the beautifully clear sky a glance, knowing that tonight would not be the night she’d spend perfecting her star map with her father.

It’s an arguably selfish realization to reach, but I suppose in the mind of someone with deep insecurity and terrible self loathing it’s just a hint of the cracks about to form in their relationship. given what we know now it’s one that I think has aged with a terrible vengeance as Asha’s mind seems to think that the reason why her father wouldn’t let her know about his legacy is because she’s a disappointment.

You can even see it here in how she contemplates the question.

Why wouldn’t he? Between her and the kingdom, at least the kingdom had offered a sense of refuge and hope for its people. What had she done? Other than crying, failing, and running around aimlessly, not much. Everything she’d achieved and promised had only been because of the star, not herself.

What is said in chapter 36:

“Are you?” the king asked, watching as she hesitated . “Because the last time I checked, you and your lack of powers weren’t the reason that it got fixed.

“Or the reason that the market got decorated,” Lady Allard sobbed, as she gingerly held her bandaged arm.

Chapter 33:

There’s a reason why her father’s projects and dreams had never gotten off the ground. How could they when he had an unspectacular daughter like her at the helm of each project? Her poor father, if only he’d known just how doomed his projects had been when he’d promised her that they could build them together.

What Velius tells her in Chapter 36:

“You accomplish nothing yet you still manage to cause more trouble than you are worth. Then you wonder why people struggle to believe in the projects and ideas you helm.”

What Asha thinks in chapter 33:

Maybe he should’ve wished for a better daughter…

Whats said in chapter 36 by the king:

Maybe your grandmother and father still would’ve been here as they’d not only have the child they deserved but one that could have ultimately saved them…”

((I don’t think it’s a coincidence))

But it’s very funny to see it when you realize that last chapter (chapter 35) she tells Ceph this:

“But that resilience wasn’t enough to save her from a broken heart…our wishes weren’t enough…nothing we did was enough!..” she nearly yelled as her eyes narrowed. Disgust and anger filled her as she spat, “After that…I just couldn’t bring myself to believe in them again…how could I? All I’d ever wanted was for my Dad to be healthy again, and for my family to be whole once more…Was that so wrong to wish for?

But now we see that it’s Not just the wishes that isn’t enough, but herself. And maybe that’s why she can’t wish for anything because deep down she feels like it just won’t come true because she isn’t deserving of it.

That’s why she doesn’t bother challenging magnifico about his wish granting despite knowing that he’ll definitely pass over some urgent wishes. It’s not because she inherently agrees with it but it’s because she doesn’t think she has the place to say otherwise especially to someone like magnifico who is the opposite of her.

Then there’s the part about her feelings for Ceph. Hearing that he was entertained and pursued by princesses has to be absolutely crushing when you realize Asha’s financial situation and the girls she notices he happily entertains.

But that’s not even the worst part- notice how she calls out her grandfather for this:

“Mean?!” her grandfather stammered. “He’s the one leading you on and making your life harder, yet you call me the mean one?!”

She responds with this:

“Cepheus isn’t leading me on! Saba why can’t you just understand that he’s only trying to help me because he’s my friend?!”

And later confessed that Cepheus is one of the few bright spots in her life:

“He’s the only reason you got out of that forest unharmed!” Asha cried as she pointed at her grandfather. “The only reason why I got to stay home…and the only reason why the tree got healed! If he hadn’t been there then…then…” her voice trailed off as she took in the shocked expression on her grandfather’s face. But it had been the disappointment in both the eyes of her mother and grandfather that had hurt her far more than the assassins had as she lowered her head, whispering, “I…I can’t take it anymore! Everything has been so terrible for me lately, everything except for this, for him!

But ironically we see later on that her argument is used against her.

The guilt over the Clariveaus, the queen, Julian and lady Allard also eat away at her as well, reminding her that no matter just how much she comes to care and Cepheus, that deep down she’s just as responsible as he is for the suffering he’s caused.

She even hears the figures say that Cepheus is incapable of ever loving her back or is only using her for what he wants. She likens it to her experience with Ignacio, which if you think about it does sorta share some similarities.

Then there’s the helplessness she feels despite giving him credit. Even before Asha spirals you can see it usually eating away at her as she starts to think that maybe Magnifico’s advisors had a point. And it’s not just a point she hates conceding too but rather one that haunts her so badly that she fears that if she moves elsewhere her experience will repeat itself.

“I don’t think you can. You could move away, but the results would still be the same. I don’t need you, nor does the world for that matter. Our power far exceeds anything your little science could compensate you with…

On a side note I honestly feel as if jealousy is an unspoken facet of Asha’s character because it’s so deeply hidden behind the insecurities that it’s hard to tell. But I think the jealousy is born not so much out of a yearning to have but moreso a yearning to belong. She wants so badly to be trusted, to be understood and maybe even loved, but after so many failures I think she’s come to realize that it’s not worth the risk. She’s terrified of failure and the burn that comes with it.

She compared herself to Icarus at one point- reaching for stars that would consistently burn her. But isn’t there something ironic about someone who is so deeply insecure, so self-loathing who doesn’t even think she deserves the most simplest of things to compare themselves to a cautionary tale of overconfidence, and ambition?

But there’s one more thing I would like to bring up:

Why would Asha want to burn her storybook? It’s full of fairy tales isn’t it? Something similiar to the world she lives in and wants to be apart of. But the reasoning that the ‘king’ gives to her is that ‘she doesn’t deserve it.’

I personally believe that this sorta extends beyond the physical sense- so it’s not the king saying she doesn’t deserve to physically have the book but moreso she doesn’t deserve to entertain herself with fairy tale like dreams when none of hers ever came true. It’s her self loathing in full display because that book used to be everything she ever represented, and she was going to burn the symbol of who she once was, who she once dreamed to be in a perfect world along with the book of her dreams for how she turned out in the real world. Completely and utterly destroying her future and aspirations because she no longer knows who she is.

It’s not until she sees herself in a mirror looking completely worn down and broken just like how the rest of the world sees her, and maybe like how the audience sees her, does she stop. Because now she realizes that she no longer knows what she’s doing.

And for someone like Asha who never usually confronted a problem without some semblance of a plan, who always bore things with a smile because she believed in an ultimate purpose, perphaps that’s the saddest part of it all.

[hana-bobo-finch]

MORE PDBC POSTING!!! WHAT!!! I AM UNSTOPPABLE!!! HERE IS A QUICK DOODLE I DID LAST NIGHT OF SUSHI THE FISH DAUGHTER

YIPPEE so. As ive mentioned before she was a fish who was given human life! She was Gourdie’s pet fish who, at the end of its life, Gourdie took to someone to give it new life so it wouldn’t die. The result was Sushi!!! My beloved!!!

First lemme talk about her design, it’s not final but it’ll be somethin like this. In her fish life she was a banded archerfish so I tried to convey that through the black streaks in her hair and somewhat through her vitiligo (but that was mostly just because I think vitiligo is really pretty looking and I wanted to make a character with it). Also gave her arrow shaped earrings to try to convey the archer aspect of it. She also has gills as you can see, on the sides of her face, I’ll get into the biology of it later. Gave her big-ass eyes, I initially pictured her with sharper angles but she didn’t have that fishy vibe so I scrapped that. She has a long neck and weird floaty hair that’s loosely based on the shadow queen from pmttyd! (HER HAIR IS HELL TO DRAW) it’s hard to see here but she usually wears a wetsuit cause they keep in a thin layer of water and that’d be good for a fish-person right?

SO the biology aspect of things. I haven’t come up with it fully but she needs water to survive, she can sort of breath plain air but it’s not as effective. Because of this she’s usually in water and, when not, has water tanks hooked up to herself that deliver water to her gills. Sorta like the opposite of scuba diving gear I guess? She also lacks fingers! Can’t see it here but she just has weird-ass fin hands. as for other aspects of her biology, I ended up cheesing my way out of having to think about that because her boyfriend is asexual so i don’t have to question the morals of getting it on with someone who’s half fish (though I think the unanimous decision would be that you shouldn’t do that so it worked out in the end)! good for me I guess?

ANYHOO she was put in charge of the fish clan at a young age and was constantly told that her main duty is to keep the fish clan alive, so obviously she dedicated her entire life to doing so to an unhealthy extent. She did a fairly good job at keeping it afloat but just barely, as nobody wanted to join it and she was usually forgotten about when it came to the clan leaders. She has connections to the Ramsay clan though and managed to prevent them from harming the fish clan so good for her she managed to negotiate with them. Really she just did her own thing most of the time, she’s the youngest clan leader by a lot so everyone else just let her be as she did whatever she saw fit. She was given a building as her official clan headquarters that she absolutely ADORES, I don’t remember if it has a name but think of it like the woah zone from super paper mario. So I’ll just call it the woah zone before I think of something original. It’s all weird and anti-gravity and stuff. She loves it there and instead of bothering to do her job she would just hang out there swimming around and stuff. Even while slacking she was still patriotic to her clan to a fault, she could barely interact with people cause her sole mission was to get them to join the clan. She also holds resentment towards the other fish people (there are MORE) because they’re vastly more successful than her and aren’t part of the fish clan. She also hates finch with a burning passion, she would definitely kill him if given the chance! Eventually she met Wheezer (will get to him someday) and over time fell head over heels in love with him but ALAS while they were on their first date he was like. hey listen dude you’re cool and all but I’m aroace. she was DEVASTATED but they managed to work something out so they can both be happy in a relationship yippee. Around this time she founded the underground fish clan, which was essentially just the fish clan but…secret. Secret missions, different members, etc. It was located in an underwater facility, with ways of communication through pipes that you would send messages through (some pipes were connected to sewage systems so there’d occasionally be classified UFC documents popping up in toilets and people would just be like. Ok. what the fuck is that.) When the fish clan was signed away to the pumpkin clan, she, in a fit of rage believing her entire life led up to nothing, took the guy in charge of the deal to the woah zone and shot him with a flaming cannon, killing him. As I mentioned in my previous post this sparked an all out war, and sushi ended up actually feeling horrible for what she did (SHOCKING) especially as Wheezer was so disgusted with her that he broke up with her. She spent the next few months desperately trying to win him back over with scammy products that were sold as relationship fixers. During this time she also recruited new underground fish clan members, promising freedom and excitement. She rescued a hostage of the Ramsay clan, and set off with Fina (the first hybrid) to attempt to make a hybrid version of the man she killed in order to smooth things over. This…somewhat succeeded, Fina ended up going on her own little rampage but the hybrid was made (HY.K.) and (if I’m remembering correctly??) was brought to Mount Margarita and TBYTF to bring him to full life. The group went there with Deux Souris (who desperately wanted HY.K. to work as she was friends with the original version of him) but ended up getting in trouble, and they all bailed, leaving Deux Souris behind at the mercy of TBYTF. HY.K. did end up working but that’s a story for another time. Anyway. Skippinh ahead because the next part of the story is still in development, oof, she finally disbanded the fish clan and turned herself in to prison, spending a few months there while also rebuilding her relationship with Wheezer.

Once released she had Gourdie fully remove the fishiness from her to try to start her new life away from the fish clan. She bought a house (WHICH GOT BURNT DOWN BY AN EVIL SUITCASE BUT UHHH) with Wheezer and got to work on her passion project, a large system of buildings called the Snowflake. what’s the snowflake you may ask? UHHHH I DONT REMEMBER UHHHH LOOK THERE’S A YEAR’S WORTH OF LORE CUT ME SOME SLACK ANYWAY she worked a ton of miscellaneous jobs to pay for the expenses including an extremely sketchy place near Mount Margarita that PROOOOBABLY also doubled as a child fighting ring. During which she was so traumatized by the children there (being a fish person she’s never really seen human children before) and vowed to never have children ever. Which was fine with Wheezer.

ok so that was a LOT uhhh in terms of personality she takes after Gourdie quite a bit, pretty competitive, a hopeless romantic, etc. but sushi differs from her as sushi is MUCH more hyper, she pretty much will NEVER sit still. Sushi’s also extremely gullible, she falls prey to scams SO much and once almost burnt her house down because she followed a recipe that simply told her to turn on her stove and leave it on for a few days. So pretty much the opposite of Gourdie in that regard. She also is rather…petty towards people, she just doesn’t really like them that much. Holds grudges a lot, she hates forgiving people. She is a ball of barely concealed anger at all times. if you’ve ever listened to all American bitch, she’s pretty much that song. Oh yeah also she can turn into a well. Like just straight up a well. No explanation for that she can just. Bam. Become a well. So yeah. That is sushi. I love her (though actually for a time I really hated her lmao, the character she killed was one of my favorites and I hated her for weeks after that despite…me being the one writing the story. And me being the one who decided she killed him.)

anyway yeah! Sushi!

[azure-steel]

Meet the Mun.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

Yeesh, LOADED question xD Uhm... well I fell in love with Cloud way back in his polygon popeye arms phase when I was around 15 or 16. That moment when he trundled down the stairs on the Hardy Daytona. But like... there's elements of his character that kind of remind me of me that I don't want to go into here tbh. In short I was having a hard time at home when I first took to Cloud, I owe him a lot, and I just pray that I do him justice, you know?

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

Not really? I'll have a go at anything. I don't usually know if something is going to bother me or if I'm not feeling it until I'm in the moment. But if that happens I'll let you know :)

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

Heh, probably angst tbh. I have this nasty habit of turning the most upbeat thread into a sea of misery if I don't keep myself in check. It's not like I enjoy watching my muse suffer... no... that's a lie OMG. But I love shippy things too, fluff, smut and all that stuff. But the one thing that's key to me is WORLD BUILDING. I love exploring a character's emotions, the things that surround them and how it affects them. Honestly, if I feel stifled in a thread I lose interest pretty fast.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

Usually on the fly, as I'm writing replies. It's not something I do often for Cloud considering that his lore is already quite extensive so I don't often feel a need to elaborate on what we already know. It depends really.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

I prefer to have music playing and I like the music to fit the mood of the thing I'm writing. Helps me keep my flow and it blocks out everything around me. I can be easily distracted.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

A bit of both. Totally depends if the thread is plotted or not honestly.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

Oh man I LOVE IT. A bit too much to be fair. But I'm a bit shy and I don't want to come off as pushy if I feel like my muse could ship with someone elses so it's not often I'll bring it up like that. There's so many good characters here I would love to ship Cloud with but I'm a damn coward xD

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

Saphie or just Saph is fine. It's been my online alias for YEARS now.

ᴀɢᴇ?

HAHAHAHAHAHA I'm over the age of 30, so OLD

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

25th of March. Team Sheep!

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

I... don't think I really have one? I do art as a profession so I love all colour I guess.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

Oof, I don't have one to be honest because my tastes change so sporadically. I just love music in general.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Uhm... I want to say Advent Children because that was a movie I specifically put on to watch about a month ago. I'm sure there's been movies on the TV that my husband has been watching and I watched by proxy since then but I couldn't tell you what they are. I have a memory like a sieve...

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

Everybody Loves Raymond as I was stuffing my face at breakfast this morning.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

I am currently listening to Who's Side Are You On by Tommee Profitt.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

CAKE, though if it has cheese on it I'm in!

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

Anything apart from winter. I hate the cold and I can't look cool walking to work in the snow when I'm slipping around on my face...

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

I do!! @ghostofnibelheim/ @nanakithewarrior/ @roleplay-abiogenesis2 GO FOLLOW THEM!

Tagged: Yeah... I pinched it from @mezzomorendoTagging: Just steal it and say I tagged ya~

[imnotsorryforanyofthis]

Quirkless Advantage

Chapter eleven: NOT A DATE

Warning: Lots and lots of cussing…..

———

These chapters are going to be stupid and short. Enjoy reading!

———

"No, I'm not going on a date," I say to Haru on my phone. "Well, it sounds like one," he says in an annoyed tone.

"Even if it is, it will never work," I say, going through my closet, looking for something to wear.

He is a villain after all...

"Why? Is he a villain or something?" Haru asks jokingly. I stop what I'm doing and answer quickly, "No." "I have to go. I'm going to get ready. Ok, bye!" I say hanging up on Haru before he could say anything.

I sigh and pick out what I usually wear. A green shirt, blue shorts, pink tights, dark grey cardigan, and don't forget my annoyingly yellow rain boots. I leave my hair down because I'm not putting much effort into this.

I hear my phone go off and I check it to see a notification that says "Big D."

Yeah... I need to change that.

"Hiya Bunbun, so about that date..," the text says.

"Ok, if you call me Bunbun then I will call you Dumb Fox," I text back.

"Really? Zootopia?" He asks.

"Yes, now get to the point. Also... It's NOT A DATE!" I text back.

"Sure it isn't," He texts and I roll my eyes.

"Anyways, meet me by the bookstore that I borrowed the book from," He texts and I laugh.

"Yeah...'borrowed'." I text back, grabbing my rain boots to put them on.

Right as I am about to put them on, Aizawa comes through the front door. "Where are you going?" He asks. "I don't know yet, he hasn't said anything yet," I say standing up with the rain boots on. "Ok, good luck on your date... I guess," He says walking past me.

"It's not a date, just going somewhere with a friend. That's all," I say, not knowing if I'm trying to convince Aizawa or myself. "Ok, bye..." He says going into the kitchen.

I open the front door and walk towards the bookstore.

After a couple of minutes, I finally ended up outside of the bookstore. "Bunbun, over here," Dabi says. "Stop, calling me that," I say not moving, just looking over at him. He smirks and pushes off of the bookstore's building.

He begins to walk away but I stay in one spot. He turns around and says, "Are you coming?" "Not until you tell me where we are going," I say.

Dabi sighs in annoyance, "We're going to a restaurant that I used to go to when I was a kid."

I don't say anything and walk up right next to him. I see the side of his face since he is facing forwards walking with me.

Why does he look sad?

I gently brush my hand against his.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

My hand somehow ends up holding his.

They're warm and rough. That's actually not surprising. He does have a fire quirk .

We stop at a small diner and walk in. Dabi sits at a booth that is in the back corner by the window. He sits facing the door.

Of course he does.

I take off my cardigan while I sit down across from him and a girl that is around my age comes up introducing herself. She asks for what we want to drink. Dabi gets a coke and I get water.

"Really? A water? Why?" Dabi asks. "Because I want water. What's so wrong with that?" I ask and he just shrugs. I roll my eyes and pick up the menu to shield myself from him.

"What do you want to get? I usually get the grilled cheese and tomato soup," He says, pulling the menu down so I can see him.

Well, that plan failed.

"I guess I'll get the same thing," I say, setting the menu down.

I look at Dabi, seeing that he is still looking at me. "Why did you bring me here?" I ask and he doesn't answer. "Why did you even want to see me again?" I ask and he only smirks. "Oh, just because you're interesting," He says and I roll my eyes.

"I'm not interesting. I'm quite boring actually," I say and he puts his elbows on the table and leans in.

As our waitress comes back with our drinks he gets off the table, "Trust me, you are definitely interesting. Just as you said, you basically know almost everything about this world." She sets down our drinks and writes down our orders.

"You didn't know about this place though," He says, taking a sip of his coke. "I didn't even know this place existed. Well, I didn't know that the coffee shop or bookstore existed either. I only know what the anime shows or what I read about," I say.

"So it's like a book, movie, or show here," Dabi says and I sigh loudly. "It's not like I was trying to tell you that or anything," I say leaning back on the booth, looking up at the ceiling.

The waitress comes back with our food and we start eating in silence. Well, it is silent until I realize something.

"You don't even know my name."

Dabi stops eating and looks up at me,"What?"

"I just realized that I never told you my name."

"Yeah, you're right... I don't know your name," Dabi says, picking up a fry and eating it.

I continue eating as he stares at me. "What?" I ask. "Well? Aren't you going to tell me your name?" He asks, smirking. I glare at him, "If you tell me your real name then I'll consider it."

Dabi rolls his eyes, "You know my real name." "Yes, but I'll love it if you would confirm that it is your real name," I say, smirking right back at him. He sighs, "Fine... My real name is Touya." "Uh huh, Touya what?..." I ask putting my elbows on the table to lean my body closer to him. "Touya Todoroki..." He begrudgingly says. "Yup," I say, smiling triumphantly.

"Ok, now it's your turn," He says. I grin, "I said I'll consider it. That doesn't mean I'll actually tell you." "Ok, then consider it faster," He says impatiently.

"Ok," I say.

Dabi angrily takes a bite out of his grilled cheese and waves his hand forward to signal me to continue.

"Yeah... nope," I say, getting up.

"Wait? Where are you going?" Dabi asks frantically wondering why I'm up.

"Oh, I'm going home," I say like it is the most obvious thing in the world. "Thanks for dinner," I say, putting my cardigan back on.

"Oh and don't forget to pay this time," I say, leaving him stunned as I walk out of the diner.

Dabi sits in the booth confused and I continue to smirk as I walk out.

Yeah, definitely not a date.

---

Here is the link to all of the chapters

Link to next: Chapter twelve: Haru and Name

[pleas3pretendimnothere]

Still dealing with chronic illness issues, but that's okay! I was able to read what I was!

The Sword of Summer & The Hammer of Thor

By Rick Riordan - I read the first two books in Riordan's Magnus Chase trilogy, and as usual, I have little to say that hasn't already been said! Riordan continues building his mysterious universe of delightfully fun and silly young adult characters navigating their lives as the children of gods. I'm a huge fan of Norse mythology, and this series dives right into that stuff...

The first two Magnus Chase books are just like the rest of Riordan's works. Each follows a new adventure amongst unlikely friends who suddenly encounter some sort of doomsday timeline--something terrible is about to happen, and this time our team only has three/four/five days to stop it! It's a familiar script, but if you're familiar with Riordan, you know not to take the books too seriously. You go in to meet colorful characters and learn obscure facts about godly mythology. They're guilty pleasure novels, but somehow, Riordan is always able to attain stakes. Characters gain and lose, kill and die. That, I believe, is what make his worlds most endearing.

My biggest shock of this series? The representation. A homeless hero. A deaf best friend. A Muslim partner. And a genderfluid love interest. My jaw was consistently on the floor, and I was once again absolutely thrilled with Riordan's commitment to inclusion. Thanks to cheery, playful dialogue, it never comes off as forced, and I will never not recommend Riordan's work to people of all ages. RENT IT!

Love, Theoretically

By Ali Hazelwood - All right, I have to be honest. I'm in a book club with a friend, and we love bad books. We previously read Hazelwood's The Love Hypothesis and had a great laugh. Published Reylo fanfic? Unbelievable. We had to know what happened. That book was so strange and...upsetting (a sex scene where the MC is uncomfortable the whole time? Wow, that's sooo hot...). So my friend insisted we read another book from Hazelwood...

I admit, I am not the target audience for books like these, but I really hated this one. Hypothesis was fun because of the Reylo of it all. But Theoretically? Bland, slow, and incredibly unrelatable (to me, at least). Incredible average. I don't enjoy fanfic, nor do I enjoy relatable-girl rom-com reads. This book was made to be disliked by someone like me. The constant mentions of Twilight. The persistent, quirky thoughts of cheese. A seemingly perfect love interest with exclusively perfect friends. A quirky family that's...actually also pretty perfect. And an absolutely, objectively perfect ending. Come ON. I was ASLEEP.

At least reading all the different ways Hazelwood could skirt around using the word "vagina" kept me laughing. If you like plain, inoffensive, modern-day romance, sure. Read it. Whatever. But I prefer more turmoil in my love stories, stuff that goes beyond "It's so hard to just be myself...". SKIP IT!

Factotum

By D.M. Cornish - Okay, now this is the stuff I love! Can't sing enough praises for Cornish's series, and this finale does not disappoint. Like the two books preceding it, Factotum struggles with pacing at times, but otherwise, it's another fascinating thrill in a horrifying world. I may have teared up a bit at the end.

I'm a sucker for huge fantasy. I love gothic settings, and I love a heartfelt parent-child relationship story. I would die for this series' main character, and so would all of his caretakers. He must be protected, and in this finale, our poor MC is being actively hunted. As the reader, you just want this young boy to be safe, to follow his dreams and go about his life, but never has he been more in danger. It was scary and violent, and I had so much fun--even when our little boy was being mind-tortured.

Great, high-stakes action. Beautiful prose. Mesmerizing world with monsters and kings and gods. Delightful artwork, and loveable characters. Bloodborne for kids, and now one of my new favorite book series in the gothic/fantasy genre. I'm just desperate for more. By all means, do not overlook this little series from the 2000s. BUY IT!

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

“There’s always free cheese in a mousetrap, if you catch my meaning."

“What, Shaw, are you suggesting that ‘Meet hot mutants in your area’ might possibly be a set-up?” 

“Yes, obviously,” Sebastian said, completely ignoring the sarcasm.  “But messages like that usually just lead a computer virus and perhaps a stolen identity.  This is leading to disappearances.  Apparently living on an island of free booze and sex is not enough to keep our people from falling into the most blatantly transparent honey-pot schemes.”

They were outside a rundown warehouse in the industrial district, both in undercover plain clothes.  Pyro had his flamethrower concealed under a track-suit and had been forced to go full mullet again to complete the “sleazy fuck boy” look.  Sebastian was wearing a suit, because of course he was.  Somewhere in a hotel room across the way, Haven was keeping a look out for anything going in or out of the back of the warehouse, and would call reinforcements if things got bad.  Pyro wrinkled his nose at the grime-encrusted building.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure there’s loads of great mutant sex happening in there.  Totally hygienic.”  Admittedly, he and Avalanche had managed in worse places.

“Well, I hope so,” came a voice behind him, and Pyro started as a red-haired man in what appeared to be motorcycle leathers walked up, accompanied by another man in a cowboy hat.  They were both white, and in that forever-young, vaguely between 18 and 30 age range that so many mutants seemed to exist in even before The Five and resurrection. 

“You fella’s here for the sexy mutant ladies?  Or maybe it’s sexy mutant gents, no judgement on that.  We all just want some lovin’, right?” drawled the cowboy.  Pyro hated them both immediately.  Either they were humans with a gross mutant fetish, or they were mutants who couldn’t find a hook-up at the Green Lagoon, and in either case they were so utterly stupid they believed that walking into a clearly abandoned warehouse at 2 AM would lead to a sexy good time and not getting murdered. 

Shaw heaved a long, exaggerated sigh.  “I suppose you gentlemen saw the ad as well.”

“That’s right, pardner.”  Cowboy hat extended a hand towards Sebastian.  “They call me Cowboy, and – “

“I don’t need to know your names,” Shaw interrupted, ignoring Cowboy’s hand.  “Let’s just get this over with.”  He pushed the door open and strode into the darkness, Pyro and the other two trailing after him.

“Hello?”  Sebastian called out.  “We are a group of gullible sex tourists answering your ad for hot mutant action.  We have brought cash to engage the services of your legitimate business, which is in no way possibly a trap.” 

Glaring spotlights clicked on, and as his vision cleared, Pyro saw the small army of soldiers assembled, guns pointing directly at them.  Some of them were in oversized exo-skeleton power armor.  

“They’re either filthy mutie lovers or filthy muties themselves,” declared one man, presumably the leader.  “Either way, take them down.  Hail Hydra!”

“Oh no, what a dreadful surprise,” Sebastian deadpanned, as he charged directly towards one of  the armored soldiers and punched him up through the ceiling.  Pyro clicked his flamethrower on and surrounded himself with intensely hot flames – the better to melt away the wave of bullets that the soldiers were firing.  Beside him, he was vaguely aware of the two idiots diving for cover behind some boxes.  The red-head appeared to be yelling into his wristwatch.

“Guys, it’s going down just like we thought!  A little help would be nice!” 

As Pyro sent the soldiers scattering with a giant flaming bull charging through their ranks, he could faintly hear something over the flames and the gunfire.  A low roar, getting higher and louder.  And then a set of three motorcycles came bursting into the warehouse, the riders yelling in unison like a warcry.

“Team America, go!” 

“Reddy, Cowboy, get out and get on your bikes, we’ll cover you!” said one of the riders.

“Thanks, Honcho.  And I think the big guy and the fire guy are maybe on our side,” the cowboy called back.   

“Are we?”  It was a question Pyro directed at Sebastian, who had picked up a giant industrial pipe and was using it to bash soldiers on either side of him.

“If they are against Hydra, then we are indeed on the same side!” Shaw confirmed.  “And for the record, Allerdyce…..the laws of Krakoa say ‘kill no man.’  But when it comes to Hydra, well…..I won’t tell if you won’t.”  He tossed a solder headfirst through a wall.

“Fuckin' oath!”  Pyro let his fire creations burn brighter and hotter.

Meanwhile, the motorcyclists were zipping around the warehouse, knocking over soldiers and miraculously evading bullets. 

“Fear the wrath of El Lobo!” one shouted, looping a chain around a soldier’s leg and yanking him to the ground.

“Sorry to throw a wrench into your plans!” another quipped as he knocked guns out of hands with, predictably, a giant wrench. 

“Quit clowning around guys, there’s too many of them,” shouted a third.  “We need to work together!  Fire guy, start driving the soldiers towards the back exit.  Me and the big guy can handle the exo-suits, and the rest of the team will cover us and clean up any stragglers.”

“My name is Sebastian Shaw.  And I do not take orders from you.”  Shaw hurled an exosuit across the room, narrowly missing the supposed “leader” biker.

“Why don’t you lot fuck off, we didn’t ask for your help!” Pyro snapped.  Giant flaming hands were scooping up soldiers and tossing them down.  Admittedly, there were a lot of them.  Bullets were whizzing all around him, and it was all he could do to maintain the concentration necessary to keep his fire shield up. 

“Don’t be like that, pardner!  We can do anything with teamwork!”  Another biker zipped by, dragging a lasso of four or five soldiers across the floor.

“We’re gonna need teamwork to get out of this one!” the leader agreed.  “You know who we need, guys.”

Then, yet another motorcyclist entered the fray.  This one came crashing through a high window, bounced off one of the exosuit soldiers (dropping him immediately), and landed upright in a maneuver that Pyro could only describe as spectacularly cool.  The rider was dressed in black leather from head to toe, a helmet obscuring their face, and long black hair that whipped out behind them like a cape.

“The Dark Rider!  Amigos, he has come!”  exclaimed the chain biker. 

“But who?  It was supposed to be one of us!” said wrench guy. 

“Never mind that, let’s just get this mess cleaned up,” shouted the leader.  “Let’s go, Team America!” 

The Dark Rider was like a force of nature.  They whipped around the warehouse at impossible speeds, expertly dodging every obstacle, handling the bike like it was an extension of their own body, hitting soldiers left and right with a crowbar clutched in one hand.  They moved with such incredible grace and skill, Pyro had to tear his eyes away to focus on his own fight.  

Soon, the tide began to turn, and the Hydra goons were either running into the night or sprawled out on the floor.  The Dark Rider snatched up the apparent Hydra leader, and after slamming him into the wall a few times, “convinced” the man to enter a key code into a wall panel.  The wall slide open to reveal what appeared to be a secret lab, and a dozen mutants stuck in a holding pen.  They looked terrified and exhausted, but all were alive. 

“We knew Hydra was snatching mutants up for some secret experiments.”  The apparent leader of the bikers approached, taking his helmet off, revealing a square jaw and brown hair.  “I was able to get some information through my former CIA contacts, we just needed to send a couple of our people in undercover.” 

The rest of the bikers had parked their motorcycles and were taking off their helmets.  There was a larger man with thick black hair and disturbingly Shaw-like sideburns, and a Black man with glasses clutching a wrench.  The other two revealed themselves to be the cowboy and redhead from before, having presumably retrieved their bikes and joined the fight.

“Sorry you guys got caught in the crossfire,” continued the lead biker.

“Caught in the crossfire?!” Sebastian scoffed.  “Gentlemen, I am Sebastian Shaw, the Black King of the Hellfire club, and member of the ruling council of Krakoa.  We were here investigating the exact same mutant disappearances.  You got in our way.”

“You didn’t actually think we were fooled by that ad?”  Pyro said.  “You’d have to be an absolute fuckwit to fall for that.”  He glanced over at the caged mutants.  The Dark Rider, the only one who hadn’t pulled off their helmet, was taking apart the control panel on the holding pen, assisted by the Black biker, who could apparently use the wrench for more than just hitting people.

Pyro started to walk over.  He wasn’t impressed by the rest of the bikers, but the Dark Rider was something different.  Tall and statuesque, they radiated cool, and had charged into the fight with almost effortless confidence.  The pen opened, and the captured mutants poured out, the Dark Rider helping them up with a gentle hand.

“Say mate,” Pyro began.  “Those were some amazing stunts you were doing back there.”  The Dark Rider turned to look at him, not saying a word.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” said the mechanic biker.  “The Dark Rider isn’t quite what they seem.  They’re actually – “

Before he could finish, the Dark Rider’s motorcycle leathers and helmet dissolved away, revealing a familiar face, a familiar form that fell heavily into Pyro’s arms, forcing him to his knees. 

It was Haven.

Around ten minutes and a few shouted arguments later, Haven started to stir in Pyro’s arms.  She did not appear to be injured, and, if the bikers were to be believed, had suffered no permanent damage from her ordeal.  The rescued mutants had already been sent through the nearby gate back to Krakoa, with a stern warning about the dangers of horniness and stupidity.  Sebastian and the biker leader were picking through the lab for tech or information.

“You all right, Haven?  Don’t worry, it’s all over now.”

“What….” Haven sat up, rubbing her eyes, and looking around the warehouse.  “What happened here?”

“You got a little more hands-on than you usually do.  I’ll let this lot explain it, since they’re responsible.”  As he stood, Pyro gestured at the remaining bikers, who were clustered around them. 

“You see, we’re mutants,” said the wrench-weilding mechanic.  The other bikers seemed to call him “Wrench,” but Pyro was determined not to learn any of their names.  Especially not after what they’d done to Haven.  “But our powers don’t work on our own.  The five of us, together as a group, have the ability to project our collective unconsciousness onto another person, who becomes the Dark Rider, with all of our knowledge and skills.”

“Usually we try to project the Dark Rider onto one of us,” the cowboy put in.  “But we don’t have total control.  Sometimes when we’re in a pinch, we manifest the Dark Rider without even trying.  And when that happens, we can’t choose who becomes the Rider, it just kind of happens.  This time, ma’am, I’m afraid it was you.”

“I…..” Haven looked around.  “Are you saying that I fought?  I…did this?”

“It was more of a group effort, Haven.  And hey, we rescued the mutants being held captive here.  Already safely through the gate.”  Haven hadn’t been safe, though, she’d been dragged directly into combat, but Pyro was trying to focus on the positive.  For her sake.

“You were really cool, though, ma’am.  You had some incredible moves,” offered the redhead.  This was the wrong thing to say, as Pyro could see the color draining out of Haven’s face, her body tensing. 

“Did I kill anyone?” She asked in a low tone.

“Nah, luv, nah,” Pyro said hurridly, seeing the limp, crumpled forms of a few Hydra soldiers scattered around the warehouse, a few of them badly burned.  “You were just tapping ‘em out to sleep.  If anyone died, it’s on me or Shaw.”  It was probably true, Pyro thought, and if it wasn’t, no one needed to know. 

“You…” Haven’s voice trembled, her jaw tense as she turned to look at the bikers.  “You took over my body.  You forced me to hurt people.  Why would you do that?”  Her usually soft brown eyes had hardened in a way that Pyro had never seen before.

“Look, it was an accident, okay?  We haven’t used our powers in a long time, and we can’t always control who becomes the Dark Rider.  We didn’t mean to target you, things just got a little messy,” the redhead said.

“Oh, an accident, was it?”  Pyro said.  He waved his hand in a scooping motion, pulling up the few lingering flames that were burning in isolated patches around the building and gathered them into a ball.  Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent the fireball raging into one of the motorcycles, which leaped upwards as its fuel tank exploded, and crashed onto its side, flames licking at the twisted frame.  In the lab, Sebastian and the biker leader glanced up, then started over towards the group.

“Oops.”

“Hey, that was my bike!”  The redhead yelled.

“Don’t get mad, mate.  Accidents happen.  These powers are so hard to control, you know.”

“Pyro, that was not helpful or necessary,” Haven said, and Pyro wilted slightly as the anger in her gaze shifted onto him.  But only slightly.

“He deserved it after what they did to you!  You could have died!”

The redhead took a step forward, and Pyro squared up, fully ready for a good old-fashioned fist-fight.  He’d been in a few.  Admittedly he hadn’t won that many, but he knew how to throw a punch.  But Sebastian’s arm came down heavily between them, shoving the motorcyclist back.

“Enough of that, Winthrop Roan Jr.  I know your father, and I know he has more than enough money to replace that bike.  Consider it payment in kind with the inexcusable way that you have used Ms. Dastoor.” 

The redhead opened his mouth, but was quickly shoved aside as the larger rider came forward, the one with dark hair and Shawburns.  His expression was stern, but he reached his hand out to Haven.  She took it, and the man dropped to one knee, head bowed. 

“We have mistreated you, señora.  There is no honor in sending an innocent bystander to fight our battles.  We swore it would never happen again, but we broke that vow tonight.  El Lobo will offer no excuses, only apologies.” 

“That goes for the rest of us, too, ma’am,” said the leader.  “It was a mistake, but that’s no excuse.  We’ll have to practice more until we can get it back under control.  Maybe Professor Xavier can help us again.”  The others murmured similar sentiments, although the red-head was scowling over at his flaming wreck of a bike. 

“I understand,” Haven said.  Some of the anger had drained out of her face, although it hadn’t been replaced by anything soft or friendly.  She regarded the men with the detachment of an office receptionist.  “I know you meant no harm.  As mutants, I’m sure you will be welcomed on Krakoa, and perhaps will find support in regaining control of your powers.  Although as a human, it’s not really my place to make the offer.”

Pyro folded his arms, glaring at the team, and making no offer whatsoever.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure we’ll find a spot for you,” Sebastian said, waving a hand dismissively.  “Although your bikes will have to stay somewhere else.  I doubt the Living Island will appreciate tire tracks across it’s face.” 

“No way am I living anywhere without my bike,” the redhead protested.  “We’re Team America!”

“Well now, fellas, maybe we should think about it,” said the cowboy.  “Usin’ these powers is like trying to tame a wild bronco sometimes, and when we slip up, people get hurt!”

“I don’t disagree,” said the wrench guy.  “But I’ve got a wife, I can’t uproot my whole life to go live on mutant island.  Georgianna’s human, would she even be welcome there?” 

“I’m sure you gentlemen will work out the details, and I really don’t care.  If you want to apply for Krakoan citizenship, just walk through the nearest gate.  Or don’t.  Thank you for your….assistance, such as it was.  We’re done here.”  Sebastian began to walk away.  Pyro leaned over slightly to offer Haven his arm, and she took it, her expression softening a bit as she pulled herself up.

“I believe human partners are allowed on Krakoa, although it’s up to the Council.  You’ll need to accompany your wife through any gates.  They are closed to humans alone,” she told Wrench, before letting Pyro pull her away.  They went through the gate together, back onto the boat.

“You don’t have to make nice with them, Haven.  Not after what they did.”

“I do, though,” Haven said, a faint worry line creased into her forehead.  “I shouldn’t have gotten angry.  They didn’t intend to….do what they did.  I just….after everything that happened to me, everything that I did…..before…”  Her grip on his arm tightened.

“You’ve got every right to be angry!  Look, luv, wanna burn them in effigy?  Or burn something?  I’ll keep the damage to a minimum, promise.  You’d be amazed how much better you feel after burning something.” 

“Ms. Dastoor,” Sebastian cut in.  He stood in front of her, looking solemn.  Even concerned, if such a thing could be possible.  “I understand your anger at the disgraceful way that you were treated tonight.  That crew of incompetents forced you to perform labor – dangerous, highly skilled labor, at that – without compensation.  If Allerdyce had not acted with his usual lack of restraint, I would have requested monetary payment, but we can still issue an invoice.  I will find you a suitable lawyer if you wish to sue…”

Sebastian’s voice trailed off as Haven’s face crumpled.  And she broke into lovely, beautiful laughter, and it was like watching a sunrise.

OOC: Since I read about Team America in the New Mutants, I had to stick them in a story, the concept is so beautifully stupid.  They later changed their name to Thunderiders, but I like Team America for the corniness.  I was originally toying with having Pyro or Sebastian turn into the Dark Rider for the lulz, but decided on Haven.  And then since it was Haven, things had to get a little serious.  Also wow, I almost write Pyro like he’s in love with Haven, but I promise it’s just platonic affection and admiration.

[normanbased]

YIPPEE also: i forgot to mention these two in my list of Music Mary Introduced Norman To (iirc it was elton john, fleetwood mac, and billy joel) but. she strikes me as the type to listen to cyndi lauper and kate bush. this definitely isn’t a prompt i just felt the need to bring it up

i have. a few headcanons but i dont wanna flood your inbox so im just gonna rattle off as many of em as i can :D👍

norman derives a lot of comfort from stuffed animals but since getting back from the institution he’s become really embarrassed about it

he has a pretty limited range of safe foods because either Taste Bad or Texture Bad. usually Texture Bad

he’s really warm. he doesn’t notice it, but whenever mary hugs him or something she’s like “holy shit you’re cozy”

tbh. i feel like norman forgets to eat pretty often. partly because sometimes he just… doesn’t realize when he’s hungry until it starts to Feel Really Bad

now that ive written these i am hella curious as to your thoughts on ‘em! again they’re not quite prompts but they can def be fodder for something!

I LOVE ALL OF THESE!! Also don’t u dare be afraid of flooding my inbox, I WISH my Inbox was flooded.

I can imagine the institution really did it’s best to just crush any decent coping mechanisms Norman had. They probably thought it would help him “grow up” or deter his age regression (I know that’s only technically canon to the book, but Tony performs those parts even when it’s not necessarily in the script. He’s so good at knowing when to put Norman in a childlike mindset). Suggestion: Modern AU where Mary takes Norman to Build-A-Bear?

The thing that’s so funny to me about Norman’s horrendous eating habits is that Tony was JUST AS BAD 💀 his milk drinking was fucking infamous. He lived on grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate junket pudding. He adored hamburgers and literally has multiple quotes saying “I was trying to listen to this director/someone who was speaking to me, but I was sooooo hungry I wanted a cheeseburger SOOOOOO bad 😫”. They both love to eat garbage basically, and u know what? Slay.

And now I’m like really thinking about the stuff Norman eats and Jesus Christ. it really is just candy corn, fried chicken steak, grilled cheese sandwiches, peanut butter, milk… like… girl … EAT A REAL MEAL 💀💥 even when he DOES remember to eat, he’s just eating the most horrendous crap. No wonder he doesn’t put on weight, he’s eating like.. styrofoam.

Also the Kate Bush fan hc for Mary is SO real. I bet she likes The Police too I can totally imagine her and Norman jamming out to some of their tracks.

[hell-ama-official]

I am starving for more Hellish dialect facts. Feed me. Give me facts. I subsist on linguistic tables. Do ypu use UK or US spellings for words? What do you call bisquits? Is it soda or pop or something else entirely? Is it a sidewalk or a walkway? Do you have traffic lights or stoplights or traffic signals?

I wouldn't know much about linguistic tables or the differences between American and British spelling, but I'll do my best to make a small write-up that should answer your question.

Biscuit - soft dry dough you use for a cake, and a cake made with such dough. Also includes rustlebread cakes, for some reason. Rustlebread is actually more similar to gingerbread, but instead of using ginger to flavor it, you use dried and ground rustleroot bark- conflicting with its name, it isn't actually a root vegetable, but rather a small shrub. The name comes from its peculiar appearance which has been compared to "roots growing upside down" and the particular cracking sound it makes when the bog turns arid and barren during winter. I've never seen it spelled as "bisquit", but I've also never seen anything spelled as "Peaque", so I reserve my right to judge this for a later date. Cookie - small and flat baked treat. Part of "smart cookie", "quick-thinking cookie" and "cute cookie". I've heard it used as slang for someone who makes their own drugs without selling them. Calling someone a "sanguine cookie" means you think they perform dark magic while under influence, and is wildly considered an insult by older folks and compliment by younger lads.

Soda - carbonated drink. Also table soda, also known as cooking soda, also known as baking soda. Pop - short for lollypop, short for popular, sometimes short for "father". Soda pop - initially meaning carbonated drink, then slang for a young-looking gay man over the age of consent. If I were to pick a modern slang word with similar connotations, it would be "twink". Not something you would say to a stranger, and yet a playful comment between friends. It's commonly thought that the name comes from the male hookers' habit of ordering non-alcoholic drinks at bars while searching for clientèle.

Sidewalk - more commonly used than walkway. The word walkway has not been part of my dictionary prior to reading this ask, but after I wrote down the first draft of this post, I've overheard a person using it at the train station, which leads me to the unfortunate conclusion that some beings indeed talk like this. Traffic light - the proper variant. It doesn't just tell you when to stop, it also tells you when to go. And here's a particular curiosity: in Hell, the blinking red lights that warn you about emergencies are what's called stoplights.

And some blitz round additions I couldn't help but look up:

An apartment complex is where apartments/flats are located. "Block of flats" means nothing to me. Are you offering me american plastic cheese, is that what a "block of flats" is? Ground floor and first floor are synonyms, unless you're referring to a building that has a store on the first floor and the apartments start at the second floor, in which the store is on the ground floor and the apartments are on the first floor. An elevator is the small enclosed box that transports people between floors, and a lift is an open platform with handrails typically reserved for cargo. I have never used the word skillet for a frying pan in my life, and even in case of frying, in Hell you usually use a multipot to do it. A merry-go-round is an old-timey sounding version of carousel, but a roundabout is a circular road intersection. Both potato chips and crisps are the same thing - that is, crisps. You just call the French fries "fries". You spell cheque properly, and not as "check", but you can also use "write-up" or "penning" when you're writing a cheque. It is nearly impossible to determine which one is pants and which one is trousers without added context, so most stick to using "undergarments" and "slacks" instead.

[junipaca]

jotting my thoughts on pokemon rejuv so far since im just finished battling hazuki.

likes:

hell yeah more utilization of double battle scenarios. those are my jam and butter i have so much fun calculating who's gonna target who and what the fuck should i go for. I'd like to thank my cinccino and weavile. fakeout helping hand combos so well with my tanky or fast sweeper pokemon.

the field options and crest system are cool as hell. its gen rlly creative and i had to get used to it and use my brain, it throws a wrench in usual pokemon play and style. it also lifts some underutilized pokemon! its manageable though. and the boss battles were gen rlly cool! rift pokemon my beloved. rlly hard in the beginning but i learned to cheese it eventually (curse + leech seed + whirlpool + toxic with corrosion)

the difficulty i think is spiked p well, its good enough that you aren't out of options, almost never, but you got to use your head around certain teams and foes. EV training is a MUST, luckily there are EV training centers. i hate IV hunting so i used the password for full 31 IVs all the way . you also need some basis of pokemon competitive i'd say.

speaking of passwords those are gen rlly nice to use, saves some time. i got a remote pc with me and that saves like 50% of the handling when preparing for a boss battle.

the aevian forms are so cool. my fav has been probably chandelure and leavanny so far but i just caught a feebas so who knows. i also have a gastrodon who's so silly i love that design

god the characters are so nice. i love the individuality of each character presented to the player, and you kind of got to twist one part to get to the other and know why the first part was twisted. that being said, if you asked who my favs are its adam ren and talon. silly dudes. but i also know i would EAT this up in my younger years a lot more. but even now i still adore them. found family is dear and nice, especially well done for a large cast jesus fuck

also worldbuilding. i don't want to say more but woah. good job.

i adore [REDACTED] very dearly and i have to apologize every time i see them. i wish i got to know them more. hopefully more appearances later??????

iffy stuff:

i want to like venam and melia's relationship a lot more than i do now. i think its just uncertainty with their previous known age gap before the time skip? eh.

I'm. very confused about Risa's whole schtick. i don't want to say more than now because spoilers and all. but i think too much information got laid on with that arc that my brain exploded there. wish it was just a bit clarified or so . (also is she 18 or 21??????? the internet and the game confuse me. this matters because i have to know whether to sock dylan or not)

some of the sidequest lines are misleading. they say "go to [here]" and when i go there nothing happens. its only when i search up the issue online is when i find out that i have to do Something Else first. just wish it was more clarified or such? if that makes sense? its like someone told you to go to the field or smth but didn't say you had to talk to the lady at the building first.

honestly i think the story confusions i have now are going to wait until The End of this game because rn it isn't fully complete. i will wait as long as needed until everything releases before i can make a full assessment. like. this has so much work put into this game. for FREE. NOTHING OF COST. like holy shit i can wait forever and ever. i have 130+ hours into this game. i can't believe this is nothing of cost. so a positive note here in this category.

comments:

honestly ive seen a ton of critique towards this game, so i was sort of jumping around trying to assess how hard it was going to be and whether or not i would be actually interested. i'm delighted to say i am. key note: don't listen to reddit when they say "too edgy". i know my edgyness. i i also quite enjoy some of it. i think its a matter of taste.

if you try out this game do have. a lil handful of pokemon experience in terms of speed, sweeping, and tanks. i think some basic knowledge there would go a long way. then again i played normal mode, there is an easier mode if i remember. either way, get ready to strategize.

also rec me more games im almost caught up w everything pretty please i need something to occupy my brain.

[glimmerbugart]

Charcuterie Board for Field Hockey

Last week, my oldest kiddo was headed over to her field hockey teammates house for a pasta party. The first time she’s ever been to one and was super excited about it. She tells me at the last minute that she signed up to bring a charcuterie board.

“What?,” I say.

She’s 15 and she wants a charcuterie board? I wouldn’t touch a charcuterie board with a yardstick at that age… and at this age am likely to not be interested in much on the board still. So I got to work, putting together a little list of what is usually included in a board like this and how to build one. The suggested items were often pretty interesting, and I’m not entirely sure a typical kid would be interested in, like proscuitto and mortadella.

Steering clear of that sort of ingredient, I decided to focus more on cheese, breads, crackers, dips and grapes.

I even needed to purchase an actual board, since we don’t have any here at home and figured that it would be a good investment to have in case we host an event in the future. Once the middle kid got home from school, we got started building the board. Middle kid is my chef, and loves doing projects like this, so I figured she would be a good candidate to help me get this project underway.

I think it turned out great! I love all the different shapes and colors and little nuts and things that kept it eye-catching. And I think it turned out great because my field hockey player was thrilled with the final product and was proud to bring it with her to the pasta party. And from what it looked like when we picked her up, I’d say the rest of the group enjoyed it too!

[lindsaystravelblogs3]

Days 5-6 – Tuesday/Wednesday, 30-31 May

Tuesday

We were up by 6am and at breakfast at 6.45 after leaving our cases outside our room for collection by the porters and stowage in our coach. 

We were told to be in the coach by 8am and that it would take about an hour to get to our destination.  In fact, it was closer to two hours with another 25-minute delay when we arrived for people to use the toilet.   I spent the time photographing a few birds and then our guide took us to the excavated ‘nuraghe’ (new-rarg-ie) that was the purpose of our visit.   There are apparently more than seven thousand of these Stone Age villages across Sardinia but this is the best preserved and excavated.  It is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. (We saw numerous others as we drove around in the following few days.)  They are mind-boggling epic engineering feats with a central tower and three or four defensive towers surrounding them, all made of huge stones, probably close to a cubic metre each, with built-in passages connecting all the structures together and allowing soldiers to move from one place to another very quickly.  They are thirty-odd metres high and are amazingly complex structures.  It astounds me how they could even conceptualise the architecture, much less build them.  They are surrounded by many village houses in a few different styles, all quite elaborate in themselves, and all dating back more than five-and-a-half millennia.

We climbed the ramparts and squeezed down into the belly of the nuraghe via lots of incredibly narrow and twisting stairs – probably designed to make an attack from outside virtually impossible, without the least regard for the needs and condition of the aged and infirm tourists who would one day wish to visit.  It was certainly a very difficult climb in and out again, but we all did it and survived to tell the tale. The whole intricate complex of towers and surrounding housing is quite phenomenal as well as being highly practical from a strategic or defensive perspective - really quite brilliant.

Back on the bus, we drove a short distance to a museum, constructed atop another excavated nuraghe with glass floors so we could walk around and look down at the structure beneath us.  There were also displays with quite a few artefacts that had been uncovered during excavation.  At least, we could walk around that one without risking life and limb climbing up, clambering over and squeezing through narrow rock passages.

Next stop was lunch at the Olianas winery, set in delightful gardens, where we were given a tour of the winery and then lunch, during which we tasted several of the family’s wines.  They were all very acceptable, but nothing I would call special.  Lunch consisted of several different cured meats and a few cheeses along with Sardinian bread – it accompanies everything here, but I am not sure how to describe it.  It is very thin flat bread, crisp and flaky, usually quite dry, but sometimes a little oily, and it goes with everything.

After lunch, we were back on the bus for the 'short hour’s drive' to our hotel – the short drive took three hours.  I think our tour leader must be having trouble with his watch.  For many reasons, we reckon he is well past his ‘use by’ date. (But he might well make a nice old grandfather as long as his charges were not too demanding.)

Driving in the countryside was very enjoyable though.  The outskirts of Cagliari were a bit dismal, but once away from the city, we saw a lot of colourful country with brilliant yellow broome flowers everywhere, red, pink and white oleanders, and swathes of wonderful mixed wildflowers along the edges of the road.  In town, and for a little while as we drove out, everything was blue with hundreds of jacarandas in full bloom, but once out and away, the colour was as prolific, but much more varied.  There are also huge banks of prickly pear beside the road and up the hillsides, all with hundreds of bright yellow flowers like plump fingers erupting from fleshy hands.  The fields were mainly filled with olive groves and wheat ready for harvest, but we had brought some rain with us so harvest will have to wait until the crop becomes strippable again.  The trees are quite varied, no idea what most of them are, but there are lots of cypress and pine of several species along with many other trees.  One species of tree that I did recognise was the cork tree.  Cork harvesting is an important industry here and we have seen some large groves of cork trees, often with piles of harvested cork under the trees.

Our hotel is quite wonderful.  It is set in bushland and surrounded by wonderful gardens.  There is a very arty feel about it, with paintings and sculptures everywhere.  There are many little niches set into the walls, both outside and inside the rooms, with lovely little artworks displayed in them all.  It is a really great place – but they badly need a sparky to do the place over.  A lot of the electrical appliances, power points and light switches simply don’t work.  We have reported a few from our room and some have been fixed, but more of them remain problematic and potentially quite dangerous.  There is a slightly quirky mood to a lot of the artworks in that chooks are a very obvious component in many of them – but very cute and quaint too.  The hotel was built by an art lover and collector, partly as a tribute to one particular artist and a potter and their delightful works are everywhere.

We were greeted on arrival with drinks, and once we were all settled in, we climbed up a very steep slope to a wonderful open-air bar overlooking the mountains and down into a very verdant valley (note the alliteration).  We were plied with lots more drinks and some tasty morsels for an hour or so, before heading back down the hill for a huge lavish dinner.  Heather got a ride down in a golf buggy with a couple of other women with mobility issues, while the rest of us walked.  She caught her toe on the bedpost at our previous hotel and it is very bruised and painful, and I suspect it is broken.  We are both struggling a little with the unaccustomed strenuous exercise but we will persevere – and we are by no means the worst of our fellow tourists.  My biggest problem is my hips that are quite painful and make sleeping difficult.

The meal was touted as a suckling pig and there was a huge fireplace in the corner of the restaurant with about five pigs on spits.  As fast as one was ready, it was passed through a sort of window to be carved and another took its place.  But suckling pig was about the fifth or sixth course and we were all declining more and more food and drink that the staff were trying to fill our plates and glasses with.  It was a huge meal, delicious but at least four or five times what we would normally eat.

The noise level in the restaurant was unbearable.  Everything seems a lot louder here than at home.  It is incessant and totally enveloping and at least twice as loud as we are accustomed to at home.  It got so bad late in the dinner that I started to become confused – almost overwhelmed by it – and I had to leave the restaurant and stagger up to our room where I zonked out completely.  I simply can’t cope with that level of noise for hour after hour after hour.

I woke up when Heather got back to our room and it was quite late before we both got to bed, but it had been a good event as an icebreaker with everyone more than a little happy and enjoying themselves.  Our group had a corner of the restaurant to ourselves, but there would have been at least another hundred guests or ring-ins enjoying the feast and shouting their lungs out in other sections of the area.

Wednesday

After such a huge meal, we were a little more restrained at breakfast time.  It was out on the terrace overlooking the spectacular gardens and the valley beyond, and there were dozens of things to choose from.  All cold cuts except for boiled eggs and toast – although I later discovered that you could ask for other things like scrambled eggs, but the wait was a bit long.

We then all piled into four 4WDs and set off for the mountains.  Two of the cars were very ancient LandRover ‘Troupies’ and they sat three across the back seat and squeezed four more of us in the rear section.  It was really pretty absurd.  They may have been suitable for teenagers who wanted the excitement of roughing it, but the seats were very narrow and too short to fit two bums on either side – as well as being too close together to allow us to straighten our legs.  Getting into the back was a big challenge with only a single wobbly broken stirrup to hoist ourselves in – they were extremely uncomfortable to say the least and we all came out of the experience with huge bruises, scratches and scrapes and other minor injuries. (More than a week later, Heather still has several huge, nasty-looking purple bruises that will probably still be evident a month from now.) It was a pretty cruel experience and totally inappropriate for older folks like our group.

To make it all worse, the tracks we drove on were perhaps the worst I have seen and we had a crazy driver who seemed to delight in finding the most intense teeth-chattering, spine-crunching ruts and potholes to crash down into and lurch out of.  It was agony, but at least we only had to suffer it for half the time because a couple of other hardy souls offered to swap with us halfway through the day.

The first place we went to was maybe ten or fifteen kilometres away, up the mountain to a clearing where they parked the cars and we climbed a couple of hundred metres with a guide who gave us some information, mainly relatively recent history, about the bandits, kidnappers and other brigands who lived in the mountains until the 1970s, when government incentives and police enforcement combined to encourage the criminals and murderers to join a more moderate society and the area is now regarded as quite safe.  Our guide also gave us a modicum of information about a few of the plants and trees in the area, but it still puzzles me why we had to take the bone-shattering drive and the strenuous climb when nothing was said that could not have been said just as effectively back in the hotel.  Nothwithstanding……

We returned the way we had come with an assurance that the next thirty or forty kilometres of road would be much smoother than the section where we had just had our bones rattled.  In fact, it was far worse – our tour leader really is a dummy and seems to have no idea.  He often has to ask our driver where we are going, how far it is and how long it will take – he amended his advice about how far it was to our hotel and when we would arrive on at least four separate occasions yesterday.

It was a frightful journey, a mammoth uphill climb, but we eventually arrived at a shepherds’ encampment.  It was in a huge natural cave and was well equipped with gas cookers and all sorts of other things that goatherds might need.  (It was also well-equipped in a very rustic way to capitalise on the whims of tourists and I suspect that tourism might well be their main source of income and keeping a few goats might be a sideline.)

We photographed a young kid and its nanny mother as well as a fairly uncooperative donkey, but in due course, a huge repast appeared and we ate wagonloads of food, including suckling pig, and disposed of many gallons of red wine.  It was an interesting day, far too much to eat and drink, but certainly a fascinating perspective of the mountain shepherds’ lives. In that regard, I think the 4WDs served their purpose well, but there should have been six vehicles instead of four, and the Troupies should have been updated twenty years ago.

I believe some stern injunctions were issued to our driver and he seemed much more in control of his driving and aware of his passengers’ fragilities on the way back to the hotel.  It was still a very rough and painful ride, but we arrived back at the hotel with minimal additional bruising.  We were on our own for dinner that night so we went down to the restaurant at 6.30 for dinner, only to find that it didn't open until 8pm.  In due course, we returned to enjoy another huge meal, this time around a corner of the restaurant from most of our party, so a little escape (and a little less noise) was very welcome.

[whenrockwasyoung19]

New Fic Alert!

The New Guy and the New Girl

Jimmy Keene x (adult) Reader 

No real warnings apply. It’s just some cute fluff. Bit of romance, no sex  

Summary: Y/N just started working at the prison as a dentist. You never would’ve thought you’d end up here, but here you are. You’re a bit nervous about this new job, but then you meet someone who seems to make it all better. 

**

You didn’t ask for this job. You didn’t ask for metal detectors, or the occasional drug test, or all the badges, or the constant surveillance. 

But you did ask for something, and you asked the wrong person. 

You left dental college about six months ago with one, simply request: to get a job as a dentist as quickly as possible. As your mother reminds you, again, and again, you’re not getting any younger. “Yes, mom”, you’d say in your head after each undesired reminder, “I went to school a little late.” Four years to be exact, but only because you got a little sidetracked by a guy and Europe and Italian cheeses. But after the divorce papers were signed, you found your way back to reality. 

And once you finally reached the end of school, you could finally scoop up a bit of that American Dream your grandma always talked about. So you applied for jobs. You thought it’d be easy to get a job as a dentist. You don’t know where that notion came from, but it came and stuck with you, until it was forced after you after the eighteenth rejection email. 

But finally, after a couple of months of searching, you got an interview. The brief convo with the hiring manager was, as you expected, pleasant. In the pre-interview, you were, as you’d always intended to be, confident, cool, unwavered. The interviewer was impressed by this ‘unwavering’ quality, as they noted. This also didn’t surprise you. What did surprise you was the location of the interview: The Outer Depths Prison, about 28 miles south of Chicago. 

Somehow, you never saw yourself ending up in a prison, and yet, you found yourself interviewing at one. You went through the usual checks, background checks, fingerprinting, all pretty routine, but they also had to strip search you–that was quite unusual. Though, the CO was quite cute, so you didn’t mind as much. 

The interview, despite being a little shaken up by the strip search, went well. Once again, the interviewer admired your confidence and unshakability. A week later, you showed up for your first day. 

Your first patient was a fairly young guy, about your age. He had dark hair, brushed back, though not totally tamable. For some reason, he always had a few pieces that stuck up or fell in his eyes. As a result, he was always playing with it. He could never quite leave it alone. 

As soon as you saw him, you asked yourself how he got in here. He wasn’t like the other inmates–not that you would know. You’d never met them. But you’d seen prisoners on TV, so you knew the type. This patient was the type. Sure, he had the right build for it. His shoulders were broad, his arms were like two thick tree branches. You had never seen his chest, but you imagine he had abs to match those shoulders. Despite the football player build, there was a certain softness there too. You sensed it before he even spoke. His hazel eyes were the dead giveaway. They weren’t hardened, like the COs you’d met, or the couple of prisoners you’d seen in the distance upon arrival. Not him. There was something vulnerable right behind his eyes. 

You knew he wasn’t like the others the first time he spoke. 

“Hello,” he had said in a gentle voice, “I’m Jimmy.”

“Dr. Y/N, at your service.”

“The guard said to take it easy on you. He said you were new.” Something shifted then, in his voice and in his eyes. There was a certain confidence there. Was it cockiness, or was it charm? You couldn’t tell, but you wanted to keep listening to find out. 

“I am new, but I have worked on patients before, just in a different setting,” You replied. You didn’t tell him that you’d only worked in dental school and not in the real world. 

“S’alright,” he continued, smirking, “I’m new too.” There was something in the way he looked at you. He was still that confident jock that he had eased into, but that softness in his eyes was creeping back in. the two sides of him, soft, gentle soul and cocky jock were sort of melting together. And you wanted to keep listening. 

“When did you arrive?” You asked him. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to ask that. In fact, you didn’t know what was taboo and what was fair game. 

“Last week,” he answered. The confidence melted away, and you could see the weight that was bearing on him. You briefly wondered what he left behind, a home, maybe a job, possibly a family. “It’s only been about eight days, and with about 700 more to go, it feels like time has totally stopped. I’d like it to move quicker.”

“It will,” you told him. “I went into dental school late, like really late. So when I saw that it’d take four years, I just felt this dread pass over me. I was really going to have to spend another four years in school, another four years not working, living with my parents, and not really moving forward. Okay, bad example, dental school is nothing like prison.”

“You were in purgatory,” he noted, in a surprisingly non-judgemental way, “I can see what you meant.” 

“Well, in that case, I can assure that your sentence will eventually end. The 700 days will come to an end, and you’ll move forward.”

“Like you’re doing,” he noted. 

“Like I’m doing,” you echoed. 

There was a slight pause, as you both seemed to forget why you were here. And then you remembered: dentistry! 

“Sorry, sir, you had a toothache.”

“Uh, yeah, it’s over here…”

It turned out, his tooth was perfectly healthy. He just had some untreated gingivitis, and the inflammation was causing him some pain. He had remained somewhat calm and collected while you checked him over, but in the moments before you announced his diagnosis, you could see how tense he got. So, you happily announced that there was basically nothing wrong, and he’d just need a regular cleaning to sort him out. 

During his cleaning, the two of you continued to chat. You quickly learned that Jimmy was a big baseball fan, but he wasn’t a Cubs fan. Perhaps revealing a bit too much (which you could tell by the way he blushed) he admitted he didn’t like the Cubs out of slight rebellion. His father was a die-hard Cubs fan, so he grew to love the Red Sox, even though he’s only been to Boston once. You told him that you used to be a Cubs fan, but decided to back the Yankees since you wanted to support a winning team. 

After swapping some baseball stats, and fighting over a recent game, your conversation eased into one about TV. Jimmy revealed that he missed TV. 

“Don’t you guys have a TV room,” you’d remarked. 

“Yes, but I’ve never gotten control of the remote. I always end up watching the news, Letterman, or TV Land, and that doesn’t interest me much.”

You ask him about his favorite shows, and he tells you all about his favorite cop shows, like Miami Vice and Hawaii Five O. the irony doesn’t pass him by. 

After pulling away to let him speak, he said. “Not sure if I can watch those shows anymore, now that I know what it’s like to be in the back of a police car.”

You had so many questions for him. You wanted to know what he was in for. It’s minimum security prison (or minimum for short, you learned), so nothing too terrible. Just something illegal and bad enough to get him two years. You also wanted to know why he did whatever it is he did, and what kind of life he led before prison. But you were just his dentist, not his psychologist or his girlfriend, so you didn’t ask. 

You just asked him something you’d always wanted to know. “I now know what it’s like to be inside a prison, but I don’t know what it’s like inside a police car.”

“Shitty,” he answered, as he tried to stew together something more eloquent. Swallowing hard, he continued, “I had to just stew in the knowledge that I had ruined my own life.” he laid back down and opened his mouth. “Sorry, you were in the middle of something, and I’ve been babbling on.”

“No, it’s okay,” I answered. “A little insight into what it’s like in here wouldn’t hurt.”

“I can tell you what it’s like. Hell. just hell. Like, when I say that, I don’t mean in the colloquial sense, just like, hey it’s hell in there. I mean it as a pretty apt metaphor here. It is hell; we’re trapped here, like demons in hell. We’re given shitty food, which I imagine is the case in hell. It’s hot as hell because the air condition has been broken all summer. And you have to constantly worry about pissing off the wrong person, or else your ass is getting beat.” 

He then looked up at me with those vulnerable eyes of his. Once again, he seemed to think he’d said too much. 

“You asked,” he added cheekily. 

“I’m glad I did,” you answered, swallowing hard. “I think I need to know how people in here think; otherwise, I won’t be able to talk to them, to reach them. I’ll just be an outsider to them.”

“You are an outsider,” he remarked, “But in a good way. You don’t want to fit in here. Trust me.”

“I don’t think you do, either.” You surprised yourself with that comment. “I don’t think you’re one of them.”

“I am one of them,” he insists. 

“Okay, fine,” you relent, because you weren’t about to argue with a stranger about things you didn’t fully understand yet. “We aren’t that alike. But we are alike in one way: we’re both trying to get our footing here.”

He nodded then. “I think we’ll find it. I’ve certainly gotten more used to this place. Perhaps you can as well.” 

“Perhaps I can.” 

“Now,” he continues abruptly, “Shouldn’t you finish cleaning my teeth?”

“Right!” 

Eventually, the appointment comes to end once you finish cleaning his teeth. He gives you a smile, a much brighter one, and tells you, “You’re doing awesome. So don’t let this place intimidate you, alright? You’ve got this.”

“So do you.”

None of your other patients could really measure up to Jimmy. Some were nice, some were mean, some were shockingly cowardly (going as far as to cower in the corner), and some were tough enough to withstand the worst novocain shots. But none of them were like Jimmy. Very few were as open to chatting with you as he did. Most of them had real dental problems, so you couldn’t waste time chatting away while you had to drill and fill and extract. And when they did talk, it was always light fodder. Small talk. You’d discuss the lunch menu, the status of the air conditioning, the itchiness of the sheets, and how people were spending their commissary money. But nothing thought-provoking or particularly memorable. These were conversations you’d forget about in a week. But it’d been weeks and you hadn’t forgotten your conversation with Jimmy. 

Then, without much of a warning, Jimmy returned. He just appeared in your office doorway one day. 

“Do you mind having a look at something?” He asked you. You nodded and invited him inside. 

“How have you been?” You asked him. “Have you adjusted okay?” He rocked his head back and forth, and you knew what that meant; he hadn’t adjusted, at least not much. 

“I can’t really sleep,” he noted, scratching the back of his neck. “And I think I’ve been grinding my teeth, which sucks because I’ve really looked after my teeth. Two months in here, and I’m fucking them up.”

“Okay, let me have a look.” 

He nodded, taking a seat in the chair. You took a seat at his side. He was laying down, and you were hovering over him. Your eyes met his, and you thought, for a second, you might melt. He then popped open his mouth, and you remembered that you had to do your job. 

After poking around his mouth for a bit, he asked you, his voice muffled, “How have you been? I meant to ask earlier, but we jumped into this a little fast.” You pulled the tools out so you could have your convo. You couldn’t help but get butterflies as you geared up to talk to him. 

“Alright,” you answered, “I’ve finally gotten my own apartment. It’s in the eastern part of Chicago.” 

“Nice, I used to live in the Northeast…”

You begin swapping stories about the city, exchanging your favorite pizza joints and Greek restaurants. You quickly discover that he's Italian and a bit of a connoisseur of the local Italian restaurant scene. You tell him about the handful of good Iranian food spots in the area. 

“I have to admit,” he replied sheepishly, “I haven’t had it.”

“Most people haven’t,” you replied flatly. “But I can make some recommendations–for when you get out.”

“In one year and ten months,” he noted.

“One year and ten months,” you affirmed, “See, that’s already much shorter than when we met. And does that feel like it was so long ago?”

He raised one apprehensive eyebrow. “Kinda, yeah,” he replied. “Does it feel that way too?”

“I’m not counting the days,” you answered.

“Really?” He sounded surprised, which puzzled you. “You’re not counting the days until you can get a different job, maybe one without a barbed wire fence.” 

“I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know if and when that’ll happen. I’ve spent years of my life reaching towards some far off goal. It’d be nice if I could just stand still, for a bit, you know, just enjoy what I have now.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think this is the place to do it.” 

“It isn’t so bad on my end. Once I’m in here, and the doors are shot, and the CO goes outside the door, I feel like I’m in a regular dentistry. And once the patients come, and I start working, it all just feels like dentistry to me. Really, you don’t have to worry about me.” 

He looked at you, really looked at you. You had to know what he was thinking. What did he want to know about you? 

“I’ll try not to worry about you,” he sighed. 

“You worry about me?”

“Course,” he answered with a coy smile. “The loonies that walk through that door. I think about you all the time, asking myself how you’re managing in this place.” “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thinking the same thing.”

He gazes at you. You recognized that gaze. Men have looked at you before. In particular, a man you divorced. 

“So,” you start searching around for your tools, your eyes darting all around your tray. At last, you pick one up. “You wanted to know if you were grinding your teeth.”

“Oh, that,” he said flatly. You catch something in his voice, something off. 

“Yeah, you said you were grinding your teeth. Right?”

“Can I be honest with you?” He said in a soft voice. 

“Of course,” you answered, dropping your gaze. “What do you need?” 

“I’m not grinding my teeth. At least, I don’t think I am. I only said that because,” he paused and sighed. “Oh god this sounds so middle school.”

“What?” You said teasingly. Perhaps you were back in middle school. 

Smirking, he explained, “I lied about my teeth because I wanted to see you.”

You looked up at him with a wide, doe-eyed expression. You tried to shake it off, but you couldn’t stop staring. 

“You wanted to hang out with me?”

He smiled and nodded. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by because I have been wondering how you were holding up.”

“You know,” he added coyly, “What if I were to need some more dentistry done.”

“Like what? Your teeth are remarkably perfect.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, because it’s not real. It’s just an appointment slot that you’ll leave open for me.”

“How often?”

“Mmm, I don’t know. Once a week?” 

That made you smile a big goofy smile. “Once a week, you and I can just come in, chat for a bit, and I’ll send you on your way.” 

He nodded, “Yeah, just some chatting.”

But as soon as he said that, you knew it wasn’t true. You knew what you were slipping into, but you did nothing to get your footing. You just said, “I want to see you again, and again, and again, and again.”

And that cocky confidence punched its way through the softness, “Likewise.” 

And you melted right then and there, like puddy in the hot sun.

[crabussy]

heyyyy welcome, welcome!! I've been expecting you. You don't need to wipe your feet on the mat, mud tracks on the carpet adds some personality to the space!! Hang your coat on the weird fake taxidermy pronghorn. To your left, the dining room, currently occupied by 23 people (and not people) having a heated debate about whether chartreuse is green or yellow (its neither). Oh, and here on our right is a comprehensive list of my Things! Take a peek, I'll be waiting in the corridor with the mosaic floor.

post includes: info about me, hobbies, tags, sideblogs, DNI, disclaimers and explanations!

(this is going to be LLLLOOOOOONG. I love explaining!!)

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✦ Name: Robin to most, Rob to some, Thing to all (call me whatever!)

✦ Pronouns: I use he/him exclusively, NO they/them ever thank you! some cheeky it/its is always fun though go for it

✦ Age: 18. somehow an adult and a teen at the same time. save me

✦ Nationality: I am a Pākehā Kiwi. I'm from AOTEAROA NZ!!!!!!!!!!

✦ Plurality: I am part of an OSDD-1B system alongside two dozen other headmates, some of the others have their own blogs set up which you can access via @menagerie-crew. they may post on my blog too, tagged with "_____ takeover" depending on who is in front. it is totally okay to request to chat with any of the others!! (I have discussed this with a therapist and a psychiatrist who both believe I am a system. I cannot get diagnosed for safety reasons. lalala)

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✦ Art:

@beastwhimsy - my art account! Please give it a look, thank you! My commissions are open.

@silly-pony-scribbles - an mlp art request blog I run with my bestest friend, sal!

✦ Tags:

silly tag: blorbos

sea tag: FISH. one of my special interests. coelacanth... kissing you

beast tag: ANIMALS. yet another thing I am full of love for

fren tag: any friend/moot related posts [: sometimes I forget!

art tag: art I am putting in my mouth right fucking now

music tag: music I am grating onto my pasta like parmesan cheese

insp: art inspiration

fave: what it says on the label [:

save: a tag full of posts I haven't looked at in about a year, oops

ultra fave: posts that make me roll around on the ground screaming

people tag: human people!!! I love us!!

mindfuckery tag: posts that violently rearrange my neurons

there tag: liminal spaces yayyy yayy

listen to my gibberish boy: my terrible words

important: usually PSAs and such!

mecore: posts that make me go YEAHHHHH. UH HUH.

robincore: posts that are like if I was images.....

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✦ Hobbies:

⋇ Camping, hiking, etc etc: I'm part of a scout group and have been camping ten gazillion times,, if I am not in a tent again soon I will surely perish. Put me in there NOW

⋇ Conservation/ecology: this is something I am most passionate about!!! I'm fascinated by ecosystems and do everything I can to contribute to positive change in conservation. I am especially passionate about Aotearoa's ecosystems!

⋇ Art: I draw ^_^ self explanatory !!! I specialize in character design!! redesigning characters is my love language.

⋇ Scaring myself shitless: I love horror... I will consume any horror related media although my favourite type of horror is unnerving stuff, not shock value stuff (although shock can be fun) if you have any good horror recs PLEASE I AM SO HUNGRY.

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✦ Interests:

⋇ animals!!! arthropods!!!! zoology/ecology! this is my special interest, has been for years, I could talk about it for hours [: NZ species/ecosystems especially! this is both a hobby and an interest rah rah

⋇ ADVENTURE TIME. HEEELP HELP ME HEELP HELP HELP. life giving magus I would do anything for you

⋇ mlp g3/g4 (currently VERY VERY gripped by The Horses. I love you ponies)

⋇ liminal spaces/old buildings (Don't mind me I just need to be in those places forever ?? and ever?)

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✦ DNI:

transmeds, terfs, pro-contact harmful paraphiliacs, syscourse blogs, autism speaks supporters, neonazis, zionists, racists, sexists etc. please stay off my page unless you're here to explore a different viewpoint and question your current views! thank you!

message me if you need any clarification on why I'm against any of these things, or if you're not sure what something on here means!! /g

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✦ Opinion on system origin discourse: read here!

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✦ Other:

I am autistic and experience chronic pain. Please keep this in mind when interacting with me! Tone indicators can be helpful, and I might sound a little off/dry due to pain sometimes, or I might not respond to asks for a long time due to low energy levels or forgetfulness. I promise I am always happy to talk!

anonymous asks and comments (unless you've been following me for over a week) are off because people kept using them to be needlessly unkind or to assume the worst of me. I've turned them on in the past only to have more people send me awful messages jam packed with pretty much every slur in the book. for that reason, they're off! sorry about that. (if you REALLY need to send me an anonymous message, you could make a temporary sideblog and DM me through it! I hope nobody takes advantage of this to be horrible. just be civil and block me if you dislike what I have to say please!)

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I see you finished reading my extensive list of Things!!! Lets continue with our tour- you haven't even seen the indoor crocodile pool yet. Did you bring any swimwear?

[quirklessidiot]

title : sweet dreams [1] pairing :future ceo!naoya zen’in x f!y/n x boss!geto suguru (office-au; non-sorcerers) Genre: angst, smut, tragedy, psychological drama, romance, yandere & dark soulmate-au

Summary: “ People remember their soulmates through dreams, it’s a sweet thing that you’ve heard from people from time to time but you’ve always been plagued by nightmares. ”

Warnings for the chapter; language, sexual themes, mentions of nicotine addiction, smoking, tight spaces (clausterphobia), drug/substance-abuse, blood, rape/non-con, Y/N is a reckless person here (MINORS DNI WITH THE STORY!) Notes: may or may not be inspired by that one prompt i saw at 3 am , the manhwa cheese in the trap, and Naoya thirsts i see in my tl 😳🕶👌 also because i havent seen a geto or naoya series so yeah pretty self-indulgent.

Masterlist || taglist

chapter summery: Fate is often in line with a predetermined destiny, that’s how soulmates works. Meeting them by fate and destiny. Yet what happens when your fateful encounters signaled the beginning of your tragedy?

next

When people talked about the whole idea of soulmates and everything in between it, a few things would always come to mind about how pure, dreamy, and exhilarating it was. After all, it had been a tested and proven system that was fawned over and glorified by many. Experts would marvel at how that was one thing that science couldn’t really explain. I mean, seeing your other half in your dreams wasn't exactly very scientific.

Yet it wasn’t really the case for you.

The whole idea was something you’ve always wanted to suppress or destroy.

It wasn’t always like this, before you were of age, you had looked forward to the whole process of it. People kept saying how beautiful the dreams were to the point where you wished to never wake up.

Yet ever since you were old enough to receive such dreams, it had always been nightmares to the point where you felt like you had to rely on suppressants. It was considered an abnormality for sure     especially since this wasn’t exactly a known problem, even getting ahold of your medication was considered illegal but you didn’t exactly have a choice for it. 

The dreamless nights were an addiction.

Yet that didn’t exactly help a lot today.

Here you were, standing in your small apartment ; hair combed neatly and away from the face with a wrongfully buttoned top and some bland instant cup of coffee in your hand. Your face is puffy from the sleepless nights that despite rubbing ice all over it, it wouldn’t calm down.

“Shit.” You mumbled, “Shit, shit, shit.”

You were supposed to feel alright, you’ve been taking this since you were a sophomore in university. It was too soon for your body to even build up an immunity.  According to the dealer and creator himself, the body developed an immunity from the drug after at least fifteen years of continuous usage, he made sure of that and you hadn’t even raise the dose so it’s impossible, “Calm down, calm down.” You chanted, taking in deep breaths. Maybe Mahito had given you a bad batch? No, you took this a few nights before that and it seemed to work fine and had the normal span as your usual.

You feel your stomach clamp up as you vividly recall your dreams, it had made you sick to the bone.

You take the mug and down the coffee with ease and shakily button your top right this time. Maybe you could call in sick today? You shake your head, you still had to process some of the papers on your desk. HR was hectic today, you let out another string of curses, among all days you had to get ‘sick’, why did it have to be today?

Your phone vibrates on the counter top and you see the words ‘older brother’ across it, taking one long hefty sigh, you muster up the courage to answer the call in your best voice, “Hey.” you greeted, trying to sound bright and robust as if you just hadn’t dreamt of something horrid and only ran on almost three hours of sleep.

“Hey Y/N!” Itadori Jin exclaims on the other line, your only cousin who treated you like his very own sibling was a wonderful man with two beautiful kids and an even more beautiful soulmate who had three older kids from her previous marriage. All in all, they made quite an adorable family dynamic that you loved looking at, they were the picture perfect family of the whole system, “I was just calling in to see if you can make it this weekend?”

“Oh, yeah.” You tried to not sound too strained, not wanting your cousin to tell you to skip the party to rest, “I wouldn’t miss their 16th birthday, strawberry cake would sound good right?”

“You don’t need to bother, you’re travelling on a bus and carrying an overnight bag-”

“I’ll be fine,” you tried to say, “Plus I can’t let them down and uncle too.”

“Well, I don’t want to give you a hard ti-”

“Jin,” You dismissed, cutting him off in dismay, “I’m a big girl. It's not really a big bag nor a big deal for you to pester me.”

“Well,” you could feel his frown on the other line, “If you say so. Father is asking if you’re getting enough sleep, by the way.”

You’re silent for a moment, they weren’t exactly aware of your predicament. Back when you were sixteen, you had only told them that you weren’t part of the norm      at that time, you remembered the looks of piety they sent to you and words of comfort, saying that it was all alright and it was more normal than you thought. 

Yet those dreamless nights soon turned into nightmares and at that moment, you hoped and prayed to whatever god that was out there to stop it. To stop your cruel fate. For whatever or whoever haunted your dreams would only mean pure abomination and you did not want to risk any of that or bring that destructive force into your life.

You were on uncharted territory this whole time, the chances of you being sent to a shrink was high and if the shrink had loose lips, you’d probably be sent to some facility.

“Still no dreams.” You easily lied, “It’s fine.”

“Y/N.” Your cousin’s worried tone fills the line and it’s something you had gotten accustomed to, “It’s alright, it’s a lot more common. Trust me, you might just be a late bloomer. The latest one in-”

“-History is fifty years old.” You cut him off, finishing for him, “I know,Jin. It’s alright, I’m alright. I’m not exactly keen on fate and love anyways.”

“Y/N.”

“Jin.” you retorted, rolling your eyes in annoyance since the conversation played like a broken record. Consolation wasn’t what you needed, you didn’t want to meet your fated pair and you might as well do whatever you can to get away with it, fate be damned.

“Look, fine. I won’t force it. It’s your life anyways but please, if something happens about the whole thing, update me okay?”

“You’ll be the first to know.” 

Ending the call, you’re once again greeted by the silence of your small and cold home. It was time to get to work now if you didn’t want to miss the next train and risk being late for your job. Grabbing the bag on your counter and doing a quick check of your stuff inside to see if you have left anything, you make your way out and lock the doors, you might as well get the day over with. 

Working at one of the largest companies in Japan didn’t exactly have a lot of perks, the pay was simply enough to live your single lifestyle, not so much to spoil yourself with new things for the most part but if it paid the bills and fed you three times a day, that was that. You couldn’t complain because you at least had the luxury and privilege to have a job in this economy.

By grace, you had fifteen minutes to spare after you commuted to work. Shibuya is busy as always, filled with men and women in corporate attire, most of them on their phones and running towards their respective offices. Meanwhile, you’re focused on the road as you make your way to the largest and sleek building in the district — Zen’in Corporation.

The building stands 35 floors high with quite a structure that's been praised by many architects and tourists alike. The inside was just as amazing as the outside but you’ve grown to hate the place, after all, it dreadfully reminded you of your dead-end job.  Pushing the door open, you’re greeted by the familiar noise in the lobby and dozens of people in line at the elevator. Opting to take the stairs instead since you were too impatient to stand in line.

Your floor wasn’t that high up anyways.

“Y/N-san!” A familiar voice greets you, Momo was a young spit-fire that interned at the HR department, she wasn’t exactly assigned to you but you had bumped into her one time while she and another intern, Miwa were gossiping by the water cooler, they had thought you’d scold them but you didn’t bother to and just went on your way. It wasn’t exactly a problem and it would be quite hypocritical since your office mates did the same thing in the break room, “i knew it was yo- oh wow, are you okay, Y/N?”

“What?” You asked, cupping your own cheek, “Is there something on my face?”

“You look sick.” The young woman pointed it out, her eyes glossed with mild worry, “You should’ve stayed at home.”

“I’m alright.” You reassured her, “and aren’t we supposed to finish our monthly reports by Wednesday? I still have ten files to go through.”

Momo crinkles her nose in disgust at the mention of paperwork, “Oh right, that.” She frowned, “I still have fifteen of those.”

“Isn’t that too much for something assigned three weeks ago? I thought interns were only given the maximum load of 20.”

“Actually,” Momo pauses on her tracks and places her hands on her hips, “The remaining fifteen isn’t mine. Mira had me do her part.”

“Ah,” you figured, Mira was a rather outgoing officemate who had everyone by her beck and call, she wasn’t exactly a mean person to you but she did have a habit of taking all the credit in a lot of everyone's works. You probably realized that the reason why she got away with it was because the superiors (since most were male especially the manager of the floor) and your male co-workers were very much captivated by her femininity. She was beautiful, petite, and had a very soft, honey-like tone that captivated a lot of people when she spoke, very much so did she reminded you of starlets in the movies with her beauty, you’d have to give her some credit on that part, she used it well, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You don’t really seem to mind her a lot.”

“I’m not exactly paid to do that.” You dryly replied, office politics were not part of your job description and you were still paid right either ways so why would you worry over trivial things? You had too much on your plate right now that you didn’t even want to be bothered anymore, “…and I advise you to not dwell on it too, she’s grading you for your internship.”

“Exactly why I have to suck up.” Momo groans in disgust as you finally reach your floor. Yet as soon as you push open the glass doors, you’re thrown off by the not-so calm and disarray atmosphere of the HR department, “Holy shit, is a celebrity coming or something?” The young intern next to you wonders out loud.

You check your phone and immediately curse when you see the date, “I wish,” you muttered, “I completely forgot that it was today. Someone is coming in for a check-up. The VP of the department, I think.”

“And why is everyone panicking?”

“Because we can lose our jobs if we don’t show better progress.” You said in disdain, remembering how one of your office mates got chucked out like scratch paper after the VP had simply said he wasn’t of use, “I’ll catch you later, I might have to finish the next ten works before break hits if I want to keep my job.”

Sometimes you wondered if this whole thing that they did was worth more than your paycheck. Suguru Geto had always been a thorn to everyone's side — again, aside from Mina, of course, yes even your vp head was charmed by her apparently, or so the gossip goes— because he thought everyone in his damn department were computers who upgraded their systems every month. 

He recently had transferred three months ago and you’ve had the complete privilege to not run into the said man since you liked to stay at your cubicle whenever he comes (Geto Suguru was also fond of talking to employees and once again, talking to him isn’t part of the paycheck)  and it was at the far end of the office where no head or boss could see what you were doing nor could you even see them, a win-win, really. Usually it would just be the manager or Mina who gives in the monthly reports yet every time they call someone after a meeting to fire an officemate, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be next. 

It definitely didn’t help that you hadn’t slept the night before today and only had instant coffee running through your veins to help you stay alert through your eight hour shift. Your anxiety was spiking up non-stop and countless unwanted scenarios ran through your head right now.

“Y/N-san?” Someone calls out, snapping you out of your trance, young Miwa stands there, peeking through your cubicle, “The manager wanted me to inform everyone that this will be a one on one affair today. So everyone has to be ready with their personal report. Manager says you’ll be interviewed after lunch break.”

You muttered a thank you and after she leaves, you start massaging your temples for relief. Your head was not only killing you because of the lack of sleep but the thought as well that you may or may not lose your job. 

Checking the work you’ve done, you realize that you’re halfway through cramming your fifth paperwork and you won’t be called until after lunch break. It wouldn’t hurt to use one of your five sticks today to calm you down. 

Five minutes would do.

You easily escape from your desk and make your way to the last floor, usually there would be some employees lounging around but it seemed like you had the open terrace all to yourself. Taking a cigarette, you place it in between your lips and flicker the plastic lighter at the end.

You take one long drag and let out a hefty sigh of relief in the bustling air.

You momentarily forget where you are, the blissfulness of it, eating you up.

“Too much crap on your plate?” An unfamiliar rough voice with an accent calls out, almost making you drop the cigarette between your fingertips in shock by the sudden company. 

You turn to try to find the source of the voice, only to find a tall and unfamiliar man in a suit with bleached hair standing there, standing out like a sore thumb.

“Sorry.” You place one arm on top of your crossed one as the cigarette slowly burns away, you’re unsure of what to say since you aren’t fond of talking to strangers, “Just work.”

“Sa’ll good.” He waves it off, stuffing his hands in his pockets, walking a bit closer. Only now do you get a very good look at his face. The stranger had striking and intimidating features, with piercing green eyes and an unbuttoned suit top that he seemed to pull off very well. 

Not only that but he seemed to have broken every single rule that the HR department had set regarding personal appearance from his bleached hair to his piercings on his two ears — was that a tongue piercing? — and to his clothes, so you definitely could tell he didn’t work here and he was probably just visiting.

“You got any more of those?” He asks, his eyes still laced with amusement as if you were some type of circus monkey.

“No,” you honestly replied, looking down at the cigar on your finger, “I’m trying to lessen my sticks a day.”

“Ah,” the good-looking stranger nods in agreement, “That’s a good resolution…”

“Yeah.”

Silence fills the air for a bit and you feel as if you should finish your drag quickly, again, strangers and you don’t mix well, so you take another hit and let out another puff, “must be pretty shitty though.”

“Excuse me?” You turn to look at the attractive stranger again, brow raised and face blank by the way he suddenly makes conversation.

“Your day.” He continues, gesturing towards the cigarette, “I mean, using one of your sticks so early.”

“Well, since when was work ever not shitty?” You dryly replied, tapping away the excess cinders on the stick. Your honest and haphazard reply throws him off but nevertheless, he remains intrigued by your words,  “9-5’s and capitalism are a bane to my existence.”

The stranger laughs, once again amused. You weren’t even trying to be funny, what a weird guy, “Has anyone ever told you how blunt you sounded?”

“Only my cousin, really.” You admitted, taking one last drag before dropping it on the floor and giving it one good step before gazing back at the stranger, hands stuffed in your trousers, “and well, you.”

“I’m honored.” He mused, “Does that mean you’re here most times?”

“Not anymore… I did tell you that I’m trying to lessen my sticks.”

“A shame.” He clicks his tongue, “It would’ve been nice to have this-“

He’s cut off by your phone’s timer ringing, signaling that your five minutes were over, “That’s my cue.” You end the timer and look back at the stranger, his eyes that still held the same amusement towards you, something that you continued to find odd.

“What’s your name?” He suddenly said before you could even leave.

“What?”

“Your name.” 

“Oh.” You blink, slowly registering what he had just said, “I don’t think that bit is too important, we probably won’t be seeing each other again.”

Something unfamiliar flashes in his eyes — confusion? 

Before he could even respond, you mutter a quick ‘goodbye’ and you’re off and back to your floor to finish your work. Completely re-energized and putting the odd stranger at the back of your mind.

Yet when you sit across Geto Suguru later that very same day, you’re perplexed and more so anxious that the cigar from earlier didn’t even seem to help at all. The man was far from what you expected to be; he was tall, young, and incredibly good-looking. It seemed like God decided to make you realize that some men were in fact, worth staring at. From the stranger a while ago to the faceless-now-with-a-face boss.

No wonder Mina and a few other women who caught sight of him fawned over and gossiped about him a lot by the break room.

You thought they were exaggerating, I mean the picture you had of Geto Suguru in your head was an old man nearing his fifties with thinning hair close to baldness and a marriage about to fall apart soon which was why he was taking it out on the employees in his department. You thought the women fawned over him since he had a heavy pocket.

Turns out, he was a man close to your age who made you very insecure because he had achieved a lot more and wasn’t like you who lived paycheck to paycheck, plus he didn’t look like one of those bosses that liked to mooch off their subordinates or lower workers. He looked put-together and seemed to be very responsible.

It irked and disturbed you that some people were just lucky in this system. It’s like you had won the bad luck lottery, not only was your soulmate shit but your job was shittier and dead end too.

“Ms. L/N?” He says, breaking your train of thought.

“Yes, sir?”

He observes you for a split second and tilts his head, “Are you alright?”

“Of course,” you nodded mutely, trying to maintain a straight-face, “Are we done now, sir?”

“Yes.” He responds, staring at your work again, “Everything seems to be in order, good job. I’m expecting more good work from you.”

Silence wafted the air a bit, what did he say?

“Oh.” You mumbled, very surprised by his praise, “Sir?”

He looks up from the paper again and you're greeted by dark obsidian eyes that seem to hold some lacklusterness at your weak reply, “I’ve read some of your data. It’s the most clear and concise one in the department. I tend to wonder why you don’t present it yourself since you seem to know more about the math and analytics. You’re doing your job well.” 

A part of you wishes he’d offer a promotion to the finance department because you’ve always wanted to work there (pay was definitely better) but he remains unphased and disinterested much to your dismay, “right,” you nodded to your boss, “I’ll make sure to provide more work with good quality.”

“As you should, Ms.L/N. Have a good day.”

Your knees are weak as soon as you leave the room. Mostly because Geto Suguru had quite the aura, was that why he became a boss quickly? God, you hoped that this would never happen again. 

The day had thankfully ended uneventfully after that, your VP and the manager had invited everyone out to eat and drink after for the successful one-on-one interviews. You passed on the offer, wanting to return home as soon as you could since you were still not feeling so well. It had technically been a while since the nightmares had happened and you wanted to just try and take another few pills, maybe even up your dosage a bit since you might need it. 

You should call Mahito about the whole thing and ask for a refund if this round didn’t work. 

You stood nearby the entrance of the company, staring at your phone and thinking whether you should call an uber or use the cramped up train. Exhaustion painted on your face from the long day. It definitely was a bad day, in your opinion, probably the worst of the worst you had in a while.

“Ms.L/N?” A very familiar and smooth voice calls for you once again and you feel a sense of dread rise up from your stomach because it’s your one and only boss who seems to make it his mission to remind you of your dreaded insecurity of underachievement.

“Sir.” You greet, bowing down for formalities, “Good evening.”

“Are you not coming for dinner?” 

“I’m taking a raincheck on that one, sir.” You honestly responded, “I’m not feeling very well today.”

“Ah,” he nods, “I understand, would you like me to call my personal chauffeur for you?”

“Sir?” You repeat, stunned by his words. Why would your boss even ask you that? 

“For your troubles and hard work, I seem to have made you lose all the color on your face a while ago at the meeting.” He points out, “Consider it an apology.”

“Oh, oh, oh no I could never.” You start shaking your head nervously, “And it’s alright, sir. I just didn’t expect you to be very, er…young… that’s why…”

Suguru quirks a brow at your honest statement, finding your statement entertaining, “First time someone has ever mentioned my age and my job. Are you implying something negative, Ms. L/N?” He asked.

Your eyes widened at his sudden and out of character joke— for a man who easily fired people, he sure knew how to ‘charm’ them. 

Yet how awkward could joking around with your superior be? The joke wasn’t even funny,  “No.” you weakly replied, “Trust me, Sir. It’s anything but that.”

Your boss is quick to notice your uncharacteristic response.

“I apologize, Miss L/N. It seems that my jokes aren’t as funny as they say.” Suguru notes, observing your tense shoulders, he didn’t look mad but there was mild worry laced in his tone, odd, “..and if you ever do need a ride home, don’t hesitate to cash in the favor. You’re one of the best employees the department has and I value my best employees to a high regard.” 

“I’ll take note of that, Sir.” You feebly replied and for a brief moment a small smile flashes on his lips. After saying your goodbyes to your boss, you let out another long sigh.

You need to get home quick, you’re barely able to function as it is.

The musty smell of wet clothes and liquor filled your nostrils. you blink fast, trying to adjust your vision to the darkness but you can’t exactly see anything at all, “Hello?” You call out, trying to feel your surroundings but all you can make out is that you're in a tight and small space, was this a cupboard?

You weren’t entirely too sure.

“Hello?” You try to quietly call out again, a part of you just wanted it to be over with, “Hello?”

The silence is too loud, too deafening that when you hear a small creak, you feel your stomach clamp. You clench your fist and back away to the wall, this is just a dream.

You didn’t need to be scared.

You will wake up soon.

Yet you feel something cold, wet, and sticky caressing your ankles. It was as if something was rubbing itself on you. You slowly try to move your feet away in hopes that it would stop but the grip on your ankles suddenly tightens, making you let out a blood-curdling scream, “No, no!” You plead as you suddenly feel it pull you beneath.

You know screaming was fruitless especially when its cold slimy hands starts going and creeping underneath your shirt to touch your breasts, “i love you, i love you.” It chanted like some sort of prayer and all you could do was continue to let out a mangled scream as it tried to force itself on top of you, “why can’t you see that I love you?”

You let out another choked sob along with a prayer that this dream would all be over soon.

You could feel it place a slobbering and disgusting kiss on your temple as you shakily try to get him away from it, shutting your eyes and turning away as far as you could, “You’ll see when we see each other again.” It said, trying to calm you down, “you’ll see how much i love you.”

You find yourself sitting straight away in your small room, bullets of sweat with panic-stricken eyes. Shakily putting on the night light to give yourself reassurance that you weren’t in some tight and dark corner with some monster who tried to force itself on you.

“You’re okay.” You muttered, hugging yourself as you slowly rock back and forth in attempts to calm your nerves down, “It’s not real. It’s not real.”

You continue to say those words but it still doesn’t stop the fear in your eyes nor the fast beating heart on your chest. 

You glanced at the nearby clock, 7 pm.

Guess the meds didn’t work for nap time either since you only got to sleep for thirty minutes. You take the glass of water by your bedside table and drink it all in one gulp, Mahito better have an explanation why his batch wasn’t working.

You shuffled to the kitchen, dragging your feet as you sniffed some cold chicken leftovers to see if they’re any good before stuffing your mouth full without even heating it.

Yet you stop mid-action and place your chopsticks down, “Fuck,” you cursed, running your hand through your dry hair in clear frustration and letting yourself rest there, your breathing completely uneven again as you realize that if your last illegal resort isn’t working then you will have to live like this for the rest of your life,  “Fuck.”

Maybe you could add a bit more? I mean, Mahito had said that if you wanted a very good night’s sleep, adding two more won’t do you much damage. Probably will just knock you off even more.

It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?

You awaken the next day, feeling fresh and light with a big smile on your face. That was easy.

It was a dreamless night yet again after you had upped your dosage.

Maybe you didn’t need to curse Mahito on the phone, afterall. 

You begin your usual morning routine, the day would be just like any other before your mild mishap yesterday. The train isn’t that full either since you had come in a bit earlier, wanting to buy a sandwich and a small pack of cigs before entering the office at a nearby convenience store.

As you're making your way through the crowd, you stop in your tracks when a coffee shop door opens up right at your face. A loud thud could be heard as your head collided with the glass, a string of curses followed soon after, “what the fuck-“ the other person sounded angry for someone who knocked a stranger over yet you couldn’t deny that the accent sounded dreadfully familiar like you had heard it before, “-oh, it’s you.” 

You blinked at the sudden sense of familiarity as you looked up to find the stranger from the top of the building yesterday, you placed your hand on top of your head and rubbed it, trying to ease the pain, “It would be nice if you could watch where you’re opening the door next time, Sir.” You quietly replied, your forehead throbbing from the sudden collision.

The man behind him was about to say something but the stranger tells him to leave and that he’ll catch up with him later, he proceeds to turn to you, “Sorry, Usually people don’t walk in front of doors especially in front of an open coffee shop.” He didn’t sound as mad or impatient like a while ago, instead it’s replaced with the same amused tone from yesterday.

The man sports something business casual again, his suit having no tie and a few of the top buttons were popped open. He didn’t even try to hide the tattoo peaking on his chest --one you didn’t notice yesterday-- nor the small mark of red lipstick on the collar.

“Well it would be nice if you looked around, it’s not like you own the street.” You weakly retorted.

“I’ll be sure to take note of that.” The stranger in front of you remains teasing as if you were old friends and he just hadn’t knocked you over with such force, “Would you like me to bring you to a doctor? That’s quite the bump you got there.”

“I’ll live. I’ve got a 9-5 to go to after this.” 

“I remember.” He grins, recounting your rant yesterday, “The bane of your existence. Capitalism and being submissive to it.”

“Very nice of you to remember a stranger's rant.”

“It would also be nice for the stranger to give me her name.” He piped in, making you quirk your brow. You weren’t even sure why he had said that, why would he even want your name?

“Is this some sort of pyramid scheme that I’m not well aware of?” You wonder out loud, the bleach-haired stranger lets out a snort to hide his laughter and amusement at your rather honest and very straight-forward antics.

“No, no. I work at Zen’in corporation too.”

You raised a brow at his response, this definitely sounded like a pyramid scheme that you were being roped into. This guy broke every dress code that the HR department had set, he’d be fired as soon as he waltzed in with that hair, piercings, and too casual business attire.

“Sir, you’re honestly going to have to do better than that.” You awkwardly give his appearance a once-over, signaling that you were judging his rather out of this world appearance.

“Oh, come on.” He laughed, the crinkles on his eyes evident that you found it almost endearing that such an intimidating face could make that, “Didn’t your teacher ever tell you to not judge someone based on their appearance?”

“She told me to also be wary of strangers.” 

“Well, my name is Naoya.” He introduces himself, the cool and suave tone in his voice is something you take note of, he seemed like someone who did on a daily basis, “Try to remember that so I won’t be a stranger next time.”

“Well, um, sir…”

“Naoya.” He cuts you off, correcting you in a fake posh and innocent voice.

“Well, naoya.” You almost wanted to roll your eyes at his rather playful attitude, “Some of us have actual jobs to get to so I have to go.”

“Still not giving me your name?”

You shrugged, “I don’t think giving my name to a stranger who hit my head is very smart.”

“I did say I was sorry, pretty girl.” You scrunch your nose in distaste as you heard the nickname he had given you and he lets out another round of laughter, “I see you don’t respond to nicknames and compliments well. I’ll take note not to call you that again.”

“What makes you even think we’re even going to see each other again?”

“I did tell you I worked at Zen’in corporation.” He winked, maintaining the playful banter between you two without even missing the beat. The man seemed to be sociable and very good with people to get someone like you to even respond and garner a reaction from, after all, you weren’t exactly good with such things like conversation, “Now go on, you’re going to be late, miss. I’ll see you around.”

You look at the large clock nearby and immediately let out a jumble of curses, mumbling a quick goodbye to the stranger who called himself Naoya. Leaving the playful man standing there alone amidst the busy street, the smile on his lips still evident, “Pretty girl.” He mumbles, only for him to hear. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

Later that same morning, you’re confused and not exactly sure why Geto Suguru had seemed to make it his mission to make your office work quite the living hell after what had happened yesterday. He seemed to have taken the words, ‘I’ll do better’ so seriously that he handed you a new batch of paperwork. 

“I’m expecting more good work, Miss L/N.” He says, handing the paperwork to you himself in your cubicle. You almost wanted to let out a scream as to why your boss couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Why was he even here anyways? Didn’t the guy work on another floor? It’s almost as if God had to remind you of how shitty and dead end your job was.

“I won’t disappoint, sir.” You mumbled, weakly. Taking a piece of paper and starting your first work. You notice how he remains standing there and you slowly look up to find him staring at you as if he was assessing your current situation, “Sir?” you ask, wondering what he was doing.

“Nothing,” he replies, “You look better than yesterday, I’m assuming you aren’t sick now?”

You fervently nodded, not entirely sure why your boss even remembers something trivial from an insignificant laborer like you.

“Alright,” he nods, gesturing at your work, “That’s better, I want this by my desk at the end of the week.”

You almost wanted to rip your hair out then and there when you heard those words. That asshole definitely cared for his employees' well-being, totally. You’re pretty sure he was Satan’s spawn or something along the lines of that with the amount of work he just gave you when you just had finished the monthly reports. 

You begin typing away, trying to mute your surroundings to at least finish some work, counting down the hours till you finished this stupid dead-end job that you had no choice but to comply since your stupid boss seemed to have make it his job to remind you of how miserable your life is.

By the end of your boring and mundane day, you’re standing right outside of Zen’in corporation, looking deadbeat tired like you’ve wrestled a bear to the ground. God, you needed to take those pills to get a goodnight’s rest. You tighten your grip on the paperwork you had to take home and take the cramped up train as usual. 

The thought of your bed being too enticing right now.

When you’re finally home, you toss your keys to the side, staring at the mail and unpaid bills along with a blinking telephone signalling your had unanswered messages from a few friends and probably your cousin and uncle checking up on you daily.

You rub your eyes and stifle a yawn, maybe sleeping after a hot bath won’t hurt you. You weren’t that hungry anyways and you could do the rest tomorrow morning. After taking a quick shower, you grab a full glass of water, pop a few pills (and a bit more) then swallow them with ease, the sensation of sleepiness slowly hitting you.

Oftentimes, your dreams would vary. Some days it would be a woman lulling you to sleep then the woman’s face would end up looking horrendous like someone had splattered her brains open. Other times it would be too erotic but not the type to turn you on instead make you sick to the stomach, or worst, something graphic, something so stomach churning that at times you’d wake up rushing to the rest room to start vomiting due to the detailedness. Yet you had realized that there were times where there was a common ground to these dreams, an unknown person whispering its undying love for you as it clung endlessly to you to the point where your airways were blocked.

It was there again, whispering words of affection in your ear, its hot breath trickling your skin.

People always had good dreams about their soulmate, they always described it as seeing a missing part of themselves yet when you faced the faceless man in your dreams with its cold and slimy hands all over you, forcing itself on you, you’re unaware of what part of that was exactly you were missing?

You sure as hell didn’t miss something like that.

You sure didn’t want that missing piece that people seem to clamor on about. 

And you sure as hell wanted to wake up from this nauseating dream, “Stop.” Your voice is rough as you try to resist yet it doesn’t want to stop licking you by the nape of your neck nor does it want to stop the hands travelling dangerously low on your waist.

Suddenly it stops and grips you tightly and if this wasn’t some dream, you’re sure it was going to leave a mark, “What are you doing?” it whispers, “You’re not suppose to be doing this. You’re not supposed to be leaving me. Don’t wake up, Y/N.”

But you’re already clamoring yourself up from this dream despite your body being in a paralysis state- something that would happen when you’re in deep sleep.

“Y/N, do-”

You’re awakened by the sound of the loud rock music playing from your neighbors above, once again, your body is in a feverish state and your face is painted with disbelief and fear. Wondering why it wasn’t working anymore. You grab a hold of your pills and try to empty the bottle's contents in front of you, checking it one by one and giving it a sniff. Wondering why, why wasn’t it working? You took two more than needed.

You increased your dosage. 

Why won’t it go away?

You grab your phone on the nightstand, your hands quivering, making you drop your phone in the process. You let out a frustrated groan, “Fuck.” You cursed, snatching the phone from the ground and gripping it tightly as you tried to dial the number of your dealer.

“Pick up,” You mumbled, pressing the call button next to his name, “Pick up, pick up, pick up…”

You start nibbling on your nails, a disgusting pet peeve you do whenever you’re too nervous.

���Well, if it isn-” Mahito’s droopy voice fills the line but you immediately cut him off.

“You-you aren’t high right now, right?” 

“Well that depends on what you need.”

“It’s not working.” You half-yelled, impatient by his playfulness, “You told me the body didn’t build up immunity until a long time!”

“Woah, woah, Y/N chill. You and I have been buddies for a long time.” he drawls on the last part for effect and tries to ease you but you’re continuing to ignore him because if this wouldn’t work then what exactly would you do right after? Would you be spending an eternity nose diving in those sick fantasies? “...and what do you mean, have you forgotten how the soulmate thing works?”

Mahito wasn’t exactly aware of your predicament, all you said to a mutual friend, Nitta, back when you were in college was that relationships and soulmates were disgusting and you didn’t want to be part of the status quo. She then introduces you to Mahito, a genius who liked cooking shit up in his lab. At that time, the underground scene had a thing called ‘pink’, a drug that changed those pure dreams into sexual dreams with your soulmate.

The bluenette was the one who not only made but distributed it himself, it grew big and it got everyone hooked. Having wet dreams, getting hornier when you wake up, and increased libido with your significant other or something along the lines of that. It amplified to the point that there was a significant spike on sex addicts during that time, the drug getting banned immediately and being labeled as illegal and could be charged for substance abuse.

Yet you weren’t looking for some relief at that time to get you off, you were looking for it to shut down immediately.

“...Thats impossible,” Mahito exclaimed to you back then, “You and I both know that shits impossible. I’m a genuis, baby girl but I ain’t no fuckin’ god of fate!”

“Well,” you muttered, “I guess that-”

“But,” Mahito holds a finger up, his long black nails still had some coke underneath it, “You were too specific, you said you wanted it to stop but not suppress.”

You blink, “Wait, like suppressors? Aren’t those illegal?”

“You literally came to me, the pink-cooker, and you expect shit like that to be legal? We’re not the pharmacy here, girlie! We don’t provide shrink prescription!” He retorts, opening his drawer and taking a blue pill bottle out, he starts grinning like a madman as he stared at the medicine behind the plastic case, “The only reason why suppressants are illegal is because too large of a dose messes with your head and leads to permanent brain damage. Mine, though, doesn't do that.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolls his eyes in reply, “You’ll only build an immunity that’s it. Right after, you’re on your own but that’s like what, fifteen? Sixteen years?  Not sure, haven’t had anyone tried it before.”

Your eyes widen at his choice of words.

“O-oh then-”

“Don’t worry,” He tosses it to you carelessly, “It’s not as bad as pink where everyone turned to sex addicts! Trust me that's just libido, people are naturally feral, i just increased it a bit. You’ll just have no dreams for a few days when you take this and that's that. If you don’t want it, obviously don’t take it.”

“No-no permanent side effects?”

“It just helps the hippocampus stop working for a bit during the sleeping period.” He shrugs, nonchalantly explaining to you “It’s nothing too deep, you won’t get comatosed. I swear that on my career. I make drugs to help people, after all.”

His cheshire grin painted on his lips signaled untrustworthiness but at that time, you were desperate for an escape.

“How much?”

“Just give me a review after.” he replies, giving you a wink, “and come back if it works.”

“What soulmate thing? What do you mean?” You frowned, eyebrows scrunched together in worry as you pace back and forth in your room.

“Well,” Mahito paused, “I did tell you I was no god, remember? The drug only stops you from dreaming about them for a brief period, Y/N. Not actually meeting them.”

You feel your surroundings turn grey, no, oh god no. 

“You do know that the dreams amplify when you pass by your soulmate, right?” Mahito’s voice stated, as if he was saying the obvious, “This shits basic. Once you pass by each other, it could be anytime and anywhere, the drug can’t have any effect anymore.”

“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me?” You try to hiss but it comes out weaker. You grip your phone tightly as if wanting to chunk it to the other side of the room. The anxiety eating you up with the thought that you might’ve passed by the monster on your everyday rides on the train and walk to work or vice versa.

“Well I assumed you knew!” 

“I-I then the dreams are going to stop, right?”

“Well yeah, give it three days tops then the dreams stop.” he nonchalantly replied, “That’s how it usually works for everyone then fate gets on with it and y-”

You abruptly end the call and let out a long heavy sigh, your empty apartment getting colder.

You met it.

Whoever they may be.

You met the monster terrorizing your dreams.

taglist (if i cant tag u that means ur tags r off!)

@fancystark ; @shinsouscatpisssmell ;  @skyh20​ ; @messofavs​ ; @moonlitdabi​ ; @nakiich​ ; @Kuroi_chi ; ​@rogueofbullshi  ;

[cupofteaguk]

on the road (to you)

summary: as a young adult, one of the strangest revelations is the discovery that peers of yours from past fragile college years are getting married. so imagine your shock and excitement upon receiving a wedding invitation. there are, however, two problems: (1) you are a poor early-20s recently employed adult just beginning to adjust to your 401k plan, and (2) the only available ride to the wedding comes in the form of Jeon Jungkook—friend of a friend, attendee to that aforementioned wedding, and your old college crush. 

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: roadtrip au, strangers to lovers au | fluff/angst 

warnings: recreational alcoholic consumption, definitely not an accurate representation of how a road trip might actually be, mentions of anxiety + insecurities, very minor book reference to: The Night Circus, equally minor movie references to: Mission Impossible and The Princess Bride because I have a problem, light makeout sessions, talks of DTR (define the relationship), some angst but this is me so there’s a happy ending. 

word count: 27k 

a/n: a birthday present for the one and only Jeon Jungkook, whom I love and respect so much and only wish the bestest of days for. Partly inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “invisible string” +  a love letter of sorts to my own old high school crush for whom my memory of him helped build Jungkook’s character. This also turned out way longer than I ever wanted it to be lol oops! 

update: i was actually able to do a writer’s audio tag on this fic!!! check it out if you want to hear about the behind the scenes process that went into writing this fic <3 

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When you land a job in the months following your college graduation, you feel as if you are on top of the world. How could you not? After all, the norm that follows post-college is one of disappointment and constant hunts online to find job openings for any position that could suit your background and previous work experiences. It’s a fear that plagues lots of your friends, both those in college and out. It’s the same paranoia you had in the months leading up to graduation and the few months after graduation—in which your days were measured by the boxes you packed to move out of your tiny college apartment and into an equally tiny new apartment you currently share with an old roommate of yours, as well as the days you spent hunched over your computer and scrolling through job postings. 

You had gone through more than a handful of cover letters, resume submissions, and in person interviews before finally landing the job you currently have and have been working under for a month now. 

Throughout the course of the recent month, you’ve continued to secure certain moments that solidify the confidence that you’re finally becoming an adult. Sure, a barely functioning adult who mostly still uses the microwave to heat up your frozen Mac and Cheese—but an adult nonetheless. From learning how to pay your bills online, to realizing that grocery shopping was something you needed to make a conscious effort to do, along with going to and from your nine to five job with your coffee order in hand. 

All of those things have helped you feel like you were, perhaps, finally getting your life together. 

And then you receive the invitation in the mailbox. 

It happens when you unlock your box on a bright March morning, taking out the usual round of bills and fashion magazines until your fingers lock around an envelope bigger than the normal letter size. It’s much sturdier too. 

You don’t know what to think of the letter, until you bring the damn thing back into your apartment and rip the opening. The mere sight of the content inside makes you feel like the hand of life has just taken your figurine and moved you back a good twenty squares. 

The post in your hand reads: 

WITH GREAT JOY, IRENE AND SEOKJIN REQUEST THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE FOR THEIR WEDDING CELEBRATION ON THE DAY OF MAY 25TH. COCKTAILS, DINNER, AND DANCING TO FOLLOW. 

There’s a date at the bottom of the invitation. As you line the date up with your calendar, you realize that you have a week to RSVP to the event. 

You toss the envelope onto the counter in the kitchen just to glare at the cardstock, maybe to convince yourself this is a dream or at least convince yourself that it’s normal for your friend from college to be getting married even when you have yet to land a successful relationship of your own. 

You aren’t as close with Irene as you used to be, but the memory of your friendship is still at the forefront of your mind. The pair of you met during your final year of university, when you were assigned to work together for one of your many senior projects and immediately clicked. The months you spent in her apartment and vice versa pulling out all-nighters in desperate attempts to finish your project definitely earns you an invitation. At the very least, you are happy to see that Irene: bright and smart and funny, is getting married. 

Not only that, but getting married to Seokjin. He’s a year older than you and Irene, but those two met when he was still enrolled and have been inseparable ever since. You don’t know relationships that well, but you know them enough to recognize that Seokjin and Irene were what everyone called the ‘endgame’. In truth, it was only a matter of time before you were to receive one of these from them. 

But did she really have to one-up you like this? Not that it’s a competition. However, it does leave a funny feeling to see someone the same age as you display a much more put together handle on life. You groan at the thought.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Karly asks. 

You turn to your roommate. She’s seated at the kitchen table, books out and everywhere as she looks over at you. Karly: fellow alumni, graduated from her undergrad program early to go straight into pursuing her master’s degree. She’s a busy bee. You wave the envelope. “Irene is getting married.” 

Her eyes widen. “Ah shit, no way?” She takes the paper that you offer to her and looks over the invitation. “Damn, I knew it was only a matter of time before we started getting this stuff, but to actually see it happening…” 

You groan. “I know right!” You take the cardstock back from your friend. “It’s only been six months since we graduated, how could she be getting married already?” 

“Well, Irene did have a job lined up for her right after graduation,” Karly points out thoughtfully. She sees the look of bewilderment you give her. “What? It was on her Instagram.” 

You pout. “Of course Irene would have a job lined up like that.” You run a hand through your hair. “I mean, that’s good for her. Really good, actually…” 

Karly jerks her chin towards the envelope still in your hand. “So, are you planning to go?” 

“I don’t know, do you have plans that day?” You wave the paper. “I’m allowed a plus one.” 

Your roommate cracks a smile. “Are you asking me out? A little forward of you, we’ve been friends for so long…” 

You whine, shaking the paper and little more frantically. “Karly, this is important! I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone!” 

She laughs. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What was the date again?” 

You provide the date to her. You approach Karly’s place at the kitchen table and watch as she opens the calendar on her laptop. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by all the deadlines she’s got under practicality every date on the screen. Yet, a “wow” is the only thing you can say at the sight. 

Karly smiles, sparing you a glance over her shoulder. “One of the joys of being a grad student slash T.A. slash research assistant.” She scrolls down into May, and narrows her eyes upon May 25th. Underneath the date is an event—color coated to bright orange and typed out in all caps. CONFERENCE WITH PROFESSOR WONG. “Oh crap, I have a conference that day.” 

“No…” You whine some more, trailing off as you grab Karly by the shoulders and begin shaking. “Karly! You’ve left me out for the bears! What am I supposed to do?” 

Karly laughs as she lets herself be manhandled in this way. “I don’t know! Go and deepen your social life or something.” 

You stop shaking her and glare instead. “Is that a joke?” 

“What do you expect me to say?” She retorts, appalled by your answer. “Then don’t go.” 

You whine again. “But this is Irene, and I’ll feel bad for not going and congratulating her!” 

“Then go!” 

“But I don’t have a plus one!” 

Karly places her hands at her temples. “Oh my god, this is like the circle of stupidity with you. Then find a plus one! Or just don’t go!” She whirls around to face you. “I will help you find a dress if you decide to go. I will also sit with you on the couch and eat popcorn with you if you decide not to go.” 

You continue to pout, knowing that you deserve that gentle attempt at a lecture but still not liking the reason why you needed such a talking to. 

“Fine,” You eventually decide to say, sliding into the seat next to Karly and leaning forward to plant your entire upper body on the table. 

Karly laughs at your defeated posture. “Well, you have the rest of the week to make your decision.” 

She has a point. That doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

.

For the rest of the week the decision of whether or not you should attend the wedding becomes a weight in your mind. You spend the next few days pondering it, thinking over the pros and the cons. 

As overdramatic as it is, you think about it during work, when you’re partaking in your home workout routines, and even when you’re about to fall asleep. You do want to go, you really do. It’ll be the first time you attend a wedding that didn’t involve a relative, which feels like a big deal in your adult agenda mindset. And Irene is someone you wouldn’t mind spending an evening with to catch up. 

However, you wouldn’t get to spend the evening with Irene—after all, a wedding implies that she would likely be mingling with all of her guests and you would just be another attendee forced to find other means of entertainment. That’s where the plus one comes in handy. Except you don’t have a plus one. A slight problem. 

You sigh. Work is a little slow today, as you are also experiencing the afternoon slump in which your mind drifts away more often than usual. You find yourself with a small laundry list of tasks (such as emailing companies, working on drafts for releases, and trying to set up different appointments) but without the motivation to do those things right away. Because of that, your afternoon slump takes the form of opening airline services to find information and prices about flying to Irene’s wedding. It’s in her hometown, about a five hour flight time from here to there. 

You click on the various boxes that require information, finally allowing a search. As the search goes through, your eyes take in all the prices—both the amount to get there and to get back—and your lips part slightly at the totaling numbers. 

“Five hundred dollars?” You mutter to yourself. You’re not sure how this would work with budgeting, but you’re still trying to figure out how to balance the cost of AC, the internet, and how to eat appropriate meals at least once a day. You don’t have five hundred dollars to spend on an airplane ticket. A slightly bigger problem. 

You sigh again, resting your elbow on the desk and your chin in the palm as your eyes continue to scroll through the website. 

Behind you, fingers curl around the top of your cubicle. There is a silence between the two of you: him, merely observing, and you, completely oblivious, until he clears his throat. 

You jump, having not expected to be interrupted like this. A squeak leaves the back of your throat as you whirl around to see who is visiting you. “Jimin!” You exclaim, taking in the boy now perched along the wall of your cubicle. This is before you narrow your eyes. “Asshole, you scared me!” 

If you just started working here and learned that you’d be cursing out Park Jimin for startling you, that past version of yourself might have turned red, shocked, and nervous at the thought. A month ago, Jimin was that coworker—as friendly as friendly people come by. With his pretty eyes, perfectly soft pink lips, and freshly dyed brown hair, you had been immediately taken by his charm and helpful nature. 

Then the month went by, and you realized there were no romantic intentions on either end. Jimin then became your first friend in your new job. Albeit, he’s a nosy friend who enjoys asking questions and dragging you out to nearby bars and coming over occasionally with take-out, but a friend nonetheless. 

“Sorry!” Jimin says back, then he glares at you. “What are you doing over here anyways?” 

You shake your head. “What do you mean?” 

“What do you mean what do I mean? You’ve been sighing all afternoon.” Jimin pulls out a slip of paper from behind his back. “Fifty times in the last hour, I swear to god.” 

You straighten out of your seat to get a better look at the paper, unamused to find fifty tally marks across the surface. “You’re lying, there’s no way that I sighed fifty times in an hour.” 

“Of course you wouldn’t know, you’re the one doing all the sighing!” Jimin retorts, lowering his hand with the paper. “Is something up with you? Did something happen?” His eyes flicker to the monitor screen behind you and he frowns. “What the fuck? Are you moving away already?” 

You blink. “What?” 

He jerks his chin towards the computer. “You’re looking at flight prices.” 

“Huh?” You turn around, having completely forgotten about your previous predicament in light of discovering that Jimin counts your sighs. “Oh! No…” 

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “No, you’re not looking at flight prices?” 

You slide back into your chair, a silent invitation for Jimin to step further into your cubicle. You sigh again, and he holds the paper back up. Taking a pencil out of his pocket, he makes another mark. You look over at him upon hearing the pencil scratch and scowl. “Give me that!” You grab the paper from his hand. “I’m dealing with a crisis right now, don’t count my sighs!”

“Alright! Alright!” Jimin slides behind you and leans forward to get a better look at your computer screen. “So where are you moving to this time?” 

You press your lips together. “I’m not moving away. A friend of mine from college is getting married. I’m just trying to see how expensive it would be to fly over there.” 

He whistles at the five hundred dollar price in your cart. “That’s pretty expensive.” 

“I know!” You groan, throwing yourself further back into your chair. “I wouldn’t mind going, but I don’t have a plus one. And as you can see, flying there would be a challenge on my wallet.” 

Jimin hums at that. “Well, regarding your plus one problem, I wouldn’t mind going with you.” 

You turn to look at him. “Really? You’d go across the country and endure an entire evening with your coworker and her old college classmates?” 

He shrugs. “If you’re desperate, I’ll keep my offer around.” He actually pouts this time. “Are you implying that you see me more as a coworker than a friend? After all the times we’ve hung out outside of work!” 

Your eyes widen slightly, having not thought of that. “No, no, Jimin, I mean—yes, I do see you as a friend now but we met as coworkers so I just think of you as a coworker first—!” You’re rambling. 

Jimin interrupts by patting your shoulder, the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile. “I’m just messing with you.” 

You shake your head again. “Asshole,” You grumble, returning your attention back to your computer. 

Jimin is still mid-laughter behind you. “Anyways, yeah, like I said. If you’re desperate to go, I wouldn’t mind going with you. But deciding how to get there is a different question entirely.” 

You turn to glare at your friend for a moment. “I’ll let you know.” 

He nods, before his lips part and he’s snapping his fingers. “Oh yeah! I wanted to ask you something.” 

He backs up, allowing you enough space to turn around fully and face him. “Okay, what’s up?” 

Jimin grins, lifting his leg up to nudge your chair slightly. “I’m going out tonight—you should come with.” 

You don’t even give this a second thought. Your lips turn into a downwards curl as you shake your head. “Nope.” 

Jimin looks appalled. “Why not? Didn’t you have fun the last time we went out?” 

“If ‘fun’ to you is trying to drag your drunk ass home and staying the night to make sure you wouldn’t choke on your vomit…” You grumble, trying not to shudder at the memory. It has only been a few days since that ‘fun’ time. 

“I told you that sometimes I overestimate my abilities, and I already apologized for that,” Jimin points out, although he does have the decency to look guilty for that mess. He perks up again. “But this’ll be different, I promise. I’m meeting up with some friends and we’re just gonna catch up. It’s at one of the quieter bars uptown: no loud DJ, no bright lights, no bottomless rum and coke. Promise. It’ll just be a lot of socializing.” He watches you hesitantly. Socializing has never been your strong suit. “And finger food.” 

The mention of food does make you look up towards him—your first sign of interest towards something. However, another thought weighs you down. “Are you sure you even want me to go?” You ask after a moment. “I mean, this is a catch up with friends. Wouldn’t I be intruding?” 

“Not at all!” Jimin brushes off, waving away your concern with his hand. “I told you, it’s a socializing thing. Besides, my friends are always bringing someone along. They were asking me when I’d have a friend tag along, so I thought you’d be a good selection.” He notices you still frowning. “C’mon! It’ll be fun. When I’m not vomiting over your shoes, I’m good company. And I promise I won’t be vomiting this time.” 

You stare at Jimin for a moment longer, contemplating his words. This is very true. Jimin is an ideal friend to have during social gatherings—he’s good at keeping a conversation going so you don’t have to shoulder the weight alone, he’s good at reading when you’re in a good mood and when you’re ready to go home, and he’s excellent at keeping unwanted attention away. You know this. Jimin knows that you know this. 

It takes one curl of your lips for Jimin to grin, knowing that he has convinced you. “Okay!” He says, finalizing the decision without having to hear the actual answer from you. He pats your knee. “We’ll take the subway after work, it’s just a few stops down.” 

If your mind conjures up any second thoughts, Jimin leaves before you are able to express them. 

.

True to Jimin’s word, the pair of you step into a subway heading westbound as soon as you’re finished with work. It’s much later in the day now, the afternoon sun has changed into a night sky with a chill spring breeze to match. The carts are filled with the evening crowd of adults, all done with another day of work and finding enjoyment for the rest of today by returning home or seeing friends. It’s a rarity that you would fall under that latter category, but the thought makes you excited nonetheless. 

“Alright, so you wanna tell me a little bit about these friends that I’m seeing tonight?” You ask, gripping the handlebar above you but leaning towards Jimin so he can hear what you’re saying over the noise of the subway speeding down the tracks. 

Jimin grins. “They’re just some friends I grew up with. We like to get together once a month to catch up and hang out, since everyone is so busy with their own lives.” 

You smile back. “That’s actually really sweet of you guys, to plan hangouts once a month.” 

He lightly flicks your forehead. “Hey, are you saying I’m normally not very sweet?” 

“Well, not right now!” You protest, hand over your forehead. “That hurt.” 

“You’re being a baby!” Jimin retorts back. 

The pair of you continue to bicker like this until your stop is announced over the intercom. Jimin halts the further insults being thrown at each other as he gestures towards the approaching station, as seen through the window of the subway. 

“This is our stop,” Jimin says to you, allowing you to step out onto the platform first. He joins behind you right after, leading the way as the subway’s three chimes signal the closing of the doors. There’s a breeze that follows, running through your hair and clothes as the subway zooms away to its next stop. The station itself is crowded, filled with groups of friends and individuals carrying on with the rest of their evening, overall looking so lively and you can feel yourself feeding off their energy. 

With a gesture pointing up the stairs that’ll take the pair of you to ground level, Jimin leads the way. You make your way through people, following Jimin’s guide until you’re both exiting the station and entering the world of your new stop. It’s another area of the city you work in, so the change in scenery isn’t too dramatic—but it’s a place more catered towards restaurants, shopping areas, and hang-out sections. The bright neon signs protrude out from the building, flashing the various products or services the specific building offered: from manicure care to corner ramen shops. 

“C’mon, let’s hurry!” Jimin calls back to you, picking his pace up slightly. He’s not running, but his long legs make it harder for you to keep up. “Everyone is already there.” 

The pair of you continue to pace down the sidewalk, past the crowds of people waiting to eat, people lingering outside of clothing stores. Finally, Jimin slows down near a restaurant. He looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still behind him, before entering the establishment. He mentions something about knowing where their seats are, before continuing deeper into the restaurant. 

As you look around, the place does look like a restaurant slash bar—not as crazy as some of the bars Jimin takes you with the intention of actually getting drunk, but there’s still a bar here and there’s still alcohol being shared heavily. It’s the same demographic of early 20s, young adults with friends, but there are actual tables and chairs and booths set up like a restaurant. So you suppose Jimin hadn’t been lying to you about this. 

“There they are!” Jimin says to you, as you look up and follow Jimin’s finger to the table in the far corner that is completely filled with the exception of two seats. You vaguely make out the back of some heads, most belonging to boys, before your eyes land on one of the boys facing you and Jimin. He’s sitting at the far end of the table, currently laughing brightly at something one of the boys at the table has said. For all intents and purposes, the boy is cute. Extremely cute. When he laughs, his eyes and nose crinkle and his lips spread into a wild smile—and brings out the dimple on his cheek. He looks like the embodiment of all your ideal types mashed into a singular being. 

All of those things. Yet, that is not the reason why you are staring. None of those things come close to why you stop dead in your tracks, why your heart drops in your chest, why your eyes widen. Even with the shitty lighting in this restaurant, you are one hundred percent positive. “Jimin!” You manage to choke out, having enough well power to grab onto his hand seconds before he is able to make himself and yourself known to his friends. 

He whirls around, wide-eyed and curious and worried. “What? Is everything okay?” 

You shake your head. The room feels too small. “I think there’s something I should tell you—!” 

“Hey, is that Jimin? Jimin!” Your voice is very easily drowned out by the sound of another, much louder voice that seems to boom through the restaurant. 

Jimin turns back around in time to face one of the boys from the table who has gotten out of his seat. You are able to see him from over Jimin’s shoulder—a tall boy with messy unkempt hair and a boxy smile. Jimin greets him with a “Taehyung!” before the boys embrace. “Taehyungie,” Jimin continues afterwards, turning around so both are able to face you. “This is Y/N, she’s a coworker of mine.” 

Taehyung grins, a friendly gesture that makes you relax. But only slightly. “Y/N! It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a bit about you from Jimin. All good things, I promise.” 

“W-Well, that’s good to hear,” You manage shakily, eyes nervously darting to the boy at the end of the table, who has stopped his conversation and is now looking at you and Jimin. 

“Let me introduce you,” Jimin says, breaking your concentration as he rests a hand on your shoulder. He points right at the boy at the end of the table, who is still staring at you. His eyebrows are furrowed together. You want to bury yourself alive. “That one over there is—!” 

A lightbulb seems to go off in the boy’s head. His face breaks out into a smile as he points at you. “Hey, Y/N!” 

Jimin looks taken aback at the fact you are being recognized by someone at the table. His hand lowers as he looks over at you. 

You, however, cannot focus on Jimin. You can only focus on the boy at the end of the table, the boy currently smiling over at you with all the light in his eyes, the boy who makes the memories flash through your mind. From that, the best you can manage is a tiny smile. “Jungkook!” 

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Where do you even begin with him? 

You met Jungkook during your second year of university. He had been an arts major (you were not) and yet, your paths crossed multiple times throughout the quarter as a result of sharing many general education classes together. You even were forced to pair up on a project for one of those aforementioned G.E. classes. Neither of you ran in the same social circle, but that didn’t change how sweet, funny, charming, endearing, easy-going, friendly, smart, and nice Jungkook was. It was very easy for him to make friends, very easy for him to go out of his way to say hi to you in the library or in class or in the cafeteria, and very easy for him to strike up a basic conversation with you. 

Because of that, it was very easy for you to fall for him—to develop a deep-rooted crush that went on for the rest of your university experience. You would use the term ‘friends’ very loosely when describing what your relationship with Jungkook had been. You had never hung out with him outside the context of school, never went out to eat with him, and never saw him again after graduation. Until now. 

Actually, ‘acquaintances’ would probably be a much more fitting term. 

“Hey, I haven’t seen you since graduation!” Jungkook is saying as he stands up from his chair and approaches you. As if on autopilot, you return the one armed hug he gives you. His smile, while still pleasant, holds a surprising tinge of shyness to it. 

“Woah, hold on a second,” Jimin interrupts, immediately pointing between Jungkook and you. “You guys know each other?” 

“Y/N and I went to university together!” Jungkook provides. 

Jimin looks like his eyes are about to fall out of his sockets. 

“We’ve known each other since second year,” Jungkook continues. He looks over at you. “I didn’t know you know Jimin.” 

“Uh…” You forget how to speak. You’re too busy looking at Jungkook as if you haven’t seen him for years. In a way, it feels like that. Seeing people from college outside of college after a graduation ceremony is like meeting them again for the first time—most of them develop a more independent look. Some look like their life is seconds from falling apart. Some look much happier without the institutional pressure to secure classes and grades and internships. Sadly for you, Jungkook falls under the latter category. Did he always have that twinkle of starlight in his eyes? 

“Y/N and I work together,” Jimin provides, seeming to realize that you weren’t going to answer Jungkook’s question. “She started working about a month ago.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Jungkook replies, still looking at you. It is then he seems to notice that the three of you are standing in the middle of the restaurant. Although you are not distracting any patrons, the workers probably don’t appreciate it. “How about we sit down? We’ll be able to catch up more!” 

Jimin seems to regain control of the situation quicker than you do, because he nods at Jungkook. “Let me introduce her to everyone, then we’ll join you.” You look over to where Jungkook had been sitting and immediately notice the previously empty two chairs right across from him—like fate, or something terrible like that. 

So you watch as Jungkook makes his way back to his seat, and Jimin starts to guide you around the table. He only drops a name. Surprisingly, he doesn’t linger, he merely takes you to the next person. It only takes you a second to figure out why. 

“You didn’t tell me you know Jungkook,” Jimin hisses in between the time it takes to travel in between people. 

“I didn’t know you knew Jungkook!” You hiss back. You smile and nod politely at the person Jimin introduces as Yoongi. “Seriously, you never mentioned him once!” 

Jimin only keeps his frustration for a moment before he’s introducing you to someone named Hoseok, a boy with a bright smile, the one who was making Jungkook laugh earlier. “Okay, fine,” He relents, the pair of you finally move to take your seats. “But what was that earlier?” 

“What was what?” 

“You were just staring at him! What, did you have a huge crush on him or something—?” Jimin accuses, but he stops. Just as the pair of you are about to sit down, Jimin parts his lips in realization. “Oh.” Then, he sends you an absolutely wicked grin. “Oh, okay.” 

Your eyes widen at him, murder in your eyes. “Jimin!” 

“So, Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice cuts through your little biting banter with Jimin. 

You whirl around to face Jungkook, eyes completely devoid of murder and voice several pitches higher. “Hi, Jungkook!” 

He smiles, such a wonderful little thing that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Hi.” 

Jimin ducks his head to hide the fact that he wants nothing more than to burst into fits of laughter. 

“So how have you been?” Jungkook starts up. “I haven’t seen you since graduation. Since you landed a job, you seem to be doing well.” 

“I am!” You manage, only continuing to try and keep a handle on your heart and managing well enough this time. “There were a few months of just scrolling through job postings and writing cover letter after cover letter though.” 

Jungkook laughs, another beautiful gesture that makes you mirror his smile. “I definitely feel that.” 

“Well, what about you? What have you been up to?” You ask. “I think I saw on your Instagram and you were traveling around for a little?” 

His eyes light up at that. “Oh yeah! I don’t know if you remember Kim Mingyu from school?” You do. “Well, he and a friend of his got into some freelancing and had to do some traveling around to work on some filming. He asked me to come along because I actually have some photography experience. So that was a thing I did for a few months.” 

You nod, smiling. “No way! That’s so cool.” 

You do relax after a few conversational exchanges with Jungkook. He’s just as relaxed and mellow, yet friendly and polite as ever, and it’s easy to make conversation with him as it always has been. Eventually, you join in on the larger conversations with the whole table—touching on topics from your university experiences to tales from your new job. A lot of your role, however, falls to listening. Jimin’s friends are rowdy, funny, and out-going. They invite you in like you have been in this group for years—and are able to provide context on older memories they are revisiting. 

Most of your evening, however, is engaging in conversation with Jungkook. Occasionally, Jimin will join in, but he does spend most of his time laughing along to something his other friends are saying. Since you and Jungkook have always been friendly with each other, long conversations aren’t out of the ordinary. You just never considered how well you and Jungkook got along, how easy it would be to transition from topic to topic. 

“I am really glad that Jimin invited you along,” Jungkook explains brightly after the pair of you are done laughing following Jungkook’s tale of another fuck-ups with Kim Mingyu. “Makes you realize how small the world is.” 

“Oh, you should have seen her moping around earlier today,” Jimin interjects, choosing now of all times to insert himself back into your conversation with Jungkook. “She was sighing all afternoon—so maybe we should thank her misery that I decided to invite her along tonight.” 

Jungkook turns to you, a sympathetic look across his face. “Did you have a bad day today?” 

You try for a laugh, waving away Jimin’s words. “Jimin’s just overreacting. Actually, I found out a friend of mine from college is getting married, so I was trying to figure out my plan…” You start, trailing off as you look at Jungkook. “Wait, you didn’t know Irene, did you?” 

“I did.” His eyes widen as his lips part in realization. “Oh my god, you were invited to Irene’s wedding too?” 

“I was!” You exclaim, unsure whether you should be excited or even more nervous at the prospect of potentially seeing Jungkook at the wedding event. “Holy shit, this makes it an even smaller world. How did you know Irene?” 

Jungkook is still mid-giggle at the pure coincidence of everything. “We both knew Mingyu! This is so crazy. Are you planning to go?” 

You shrug. Jimin chooses to interject once more. “That’s what Y/N over here was sighing all afternoon over.” 

You whine as you look at Jimin. “No need to sell me out! Listen, Jungkook.” You turn back to the boy opposite of you, who is still gazing at you. “I’m sure you understand my current predicament.” 

“Sure.” 

“You know how expensive flights can be.” 

“Of course.” 

You fold your arms over each other and rest them on the table. “So, are you planning to go to the wedding?” 

He nods. “Most likely, yeah. I actually knew that the wedding was going to be happening soon, since Mingyu told me about it as soon as Irene got the ring. I ran into the flight problem pretty quickly too, so I decided to just drive to the event.” 

Jimin whistles. “Drive across the country, huh, JK? That must be a four day trip, or something.” 

“It was coming out to be,” Jungkook acknowledges with a nod. “But it’s okay.” He’s grinning, looking excited at the prospect. “I’ve never done a cross country drive before, so it was actually kind of exciting to plan the route. There are a few places I want to stop by and visit. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Then, Jungkook turns back to you. “If you decide that flying would be too expensive, then you’re more than welcome to come along. It’ll be nice to have some company and not spend four days by myself.” 

Entirely on instinct, you start to laugh. You think he’s joking—how could you not? This is probably one of the longest conversations you’ve ever had with Jungkook. Like you’ve mentioned before, you wouldn’t consider him a friend. Why would he seriously try to invite you on a road trip?  “Yeah, I’m not too sure—I’ve never done a cross country trip before…” 

The conversation shifts pretty quickly as soon as you reply back to Jungkook. Hoseok asks you a question that drags your attention away, simultaneously allowing you to forget about Jungkook’s request. 

The end of the dinner happens soon after, when the bill has been paid and you suspect the long line of people outside waiting for a table are waiting for your party to be done. So venmo exchanges and money debts go around until each member of the table starts standing up one by one to make their move to exit the restaurant. 

You and Jimin are one of the first to leave. Goodbyes are exchanged along with the polite ‘it was nice to meet you’ phrase thrown around. Jungkook is mid-conversation with Yoongi, but he still gives you a quick hug of parting before you and Jimin exit the restaurant. 

The pair of you only make it out a few steps before there is a familiar voice calling your name. “Hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait up!” You stop and turn around, surprised to see Jungkook dashing out of the restaurant. He rests himself for a moment before he’s straightening back up to look at you. 

You try for a smile. “Hey Jungkook, what’s up?” 

He takes in a few more deep breaths to calm himself—either from the dashing he just did or to steel himself for the next question, you don’t know. “It’s about me inviting you to drive up to Irene’s wedding—I just thought I’d let you know it was a serious invitation. Having the company would be nice, and you wouldn’t be a burden to me, seriously. Besides, it’ll be fun to spend some time together.” 

“O-Oh,” You stammer, wringing your hands together. “I’m not too sure… I still have to think about it.” 

“Of course, of course,” Jungkook dismisses good naturedly. “Just thought I’d let you know, so you know that you do have options.” 

Although the offer makes you nervous, you cannot dismiss Jungkook’s thoughtfulness. You give him a more relaxed smile. “I really appreciate that Jungkook, thank you.” 

He smiles at your smile. “No problem! Actually…” He digs around for the wallet in his pocket and produces a little card. “Here’s my business card—my cell phone number is on here so just text or call if you decide to join me. Or,” He presses his lips into a more bashful smile. “You can just text me whenever for whatever reason. I just thought I’d let you know that it was good to see you again.” 

You take the card slowly, unable to look away from Jungkook’s face. He looks so genuine and shy that it doesn’t help your own racing heart. “It was good to see you too, Jungkook…” You return, albeit a little breathlessly. 

He smiles again, dimples pressing in his cheek (and your heart). He turns to Jimin “Oh yeah, nice seeing you too Park.” 

“Hey.” Jimin hits him on the shoulder. “I’m your hyung, you should show me more respect!” 

“My bad, my bad.” Jungkook doesn’t apologize though. His gaze flickers to yours one more time, gaze looking strangely hopeful. “I’ll see you guys around.” He walks backwards a few paces before turning around and returning to the restaurant. Maybe to see his other friends. 

Either way, it doesn’t matter. You are still screaming internally regardless—as shown through your red cheeks, widened eyes, and singing heart. Jimin will certainly never let you live this moment down. 

. 

Now, you are screaming externally. You don’t even give a thought or an explanation. You simply walk into your apartment, nosedive for the couch, and start yelling into one of the throw pillows. 

There’s a rapid movement of footsteps coming from down the hallway almost immediately, one that grows gradually louder until the owner of the steps starts speaking. “Who the fuck is out there? I’ve played softball my entire life and therefore will not hesitate to drive this bat so far up your ass—oh, Y/N.” The voice lowers significantly, as does the threat level it emits into the air. “It’s just you.” 

You lift your face from the throw pillow, and immediately brush away at the hair that falls in your face. “What the fuck!” You croak, pushing yourself into a sitting position and pointing at the bat in Karly’s hands. “What are you doing threatening me with a bat? You’ve never played a game of softball in your life!” 

“Oh, this isn’t mine. It’s Soonyoung’s.” Soonyoung is Karly’s boyfriend from high school, who used to play baseball on the high school team. How Karly has her boyfriend’s baseball bat is a mystery, but it’s something you think you are better off not asking about. She places the bat down on the carpet next to the coffee table. “But I should be asking you the questions, you bitch! You scared the shit out of me!” 

You sigh, throwing your head to rest on the back of the couch. “Sorry, sorry. Had a crazy day.” 

Karly ponders this as she moves to take a seat next to you. “You seemed fine when you texted me about you getting drinks with Jimin. Did something happen during the dinner?” 

You straighten up again and grip Karly by the arm. “Okay, don’t scream.” 

“You mean like you did?” Karly retorts dryly. 

You shake her. “I’m serious!” When Karly doesn’t say anything, you take it as a sign to continue with your story. “I saw Jungkook.” 

Karly blinks, then grabs your arm right back. “Wait, Jeon Jungkook, as in the guy you’ve been crushing on since second year?” 

“Yes!” You whine, throwing yourself onto the couch all over again. 

“The one you had to work together on a project with and nearly cried even though you guys just had to submit a paper?” 

“Yes!” 

“The one who said hi to you in the library that one time and you tried to put your elbow on the table afterwards but you missed and hit your head instead?” 

You pause, scowling. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. Are you done?” 

Karly is laughing. “Oh my god. What are the chances of you seeing him now?” 

“There’s more,” You groan out. 

“Really? Honestly that yell could have been just for seeing him again and that would have made sense—!” 

You ignore her. “He’s friends with Jimin. He’s friends with Irene, too. He was invited to her wedding.” 

“Wait, Jimin is friends with Irene or Jungkook is friends with Irene—?” 

“He won’t pay for the flight though. It’s too expensive. I can attest to that.” 

Karly holds a finger up, trying to connect the dots. “When did you look up flight prices—?” 

“So he invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.” 

Karly frowns. 

You sigh. “Jungkook invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.” 

“Oh! Oh!” Karly’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, that’s huge. Are you gonna go?” 

“I don’t know!” You whine. “Jungkook mentioned it would be a four day drive to get there. I don’t know if I can survive four days in a car with him! We’ve never been that close, what if it gets awkward?” 

Karly ponders this. “I really don’t think it’s in Jungkook’s nature to be awkward with someone—especially someone he’s had a history with.” She sees the look of disbelief you give her. “Well, even if that history was really limited. What makes you think it’ll be awkward? Was it awful seeing him tonight?” 

“No!” You cry, straightening into a sitting position so your legs drape over the side of the couch. You force yourself to calm down. “It… it was pretty good actually.” 

Karly raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Really now.” 

“Yeah…” You reply, trailing off. “We sat across from each other during the dinner and we talked most of the night, surprisingly. I guess because we were sort of acquaintances we’ve always known about each other, so it wasn’t like we didn’t know how to ask questions to each other. And Jungkook… he’s easy to talk to as he’s always been and he’s so nice and positive and he has a dimple on his cheek when he smiles…” You finish slowly, noticing your racing heart that has come up as a result of this conversation and of your memory. You realize the predicament you’re in, further emphasized by Karly’s growing grin. You groan. “Shut up.” 

Karly looks like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t say anything.” 

You grab onto one of the throw pillows and properly hit her in the face. “You’re saying many things right now, you bitch!” 

Karly takes the pillow from you and proceeds to whack you in the shoulder. “Not outloud!” 

“So you admit it!” You accuse, pointing at her. 

Karly yells. “Just admit you still have a crush on him!” 

Your groan turns into a cry. “Don’t say it outloud! Now I have to deal with it!” 

Your roommate sighs. “Bitch, I can tell you exactly how to deal with this. You’re gonna go on this road trip with Jungkook and see if you guys vibe—you honestly will not find a better way to discover your compatibility with him. If it works out, then you get more than a plus one to the wedding. If it doesn’t work out, just skip the wedding and take the first flight back home. Cut off your friendship with Jimin while you’re at it—it’s the only way to ensure you’ll never have to run into Jungkook again.” 

You pout. “That seems a little dramatic.” 

Karly thinks for a second, then she nudges you. “Remind me again about that quote your high school English teacher used to always parade around.” 

You stare at her for a moment, because you know exactly what point she’s trying to make. Still, you decide to humor her. And yourself. “‘You’ll never know if you’ll sink, swim, or float, until you’re willing to take the plunge’.” You level Karly with another gaze. Your friend has a point. You missed any chance to hang out with Jungkook during your college years—partly because your friend groups never intersected, but mostly because of your internalized fear of fucking up. But now that you are just a little older and just a little more versed in the art of conversing and befriending—maybe Karly is right. Maybe this is your chance to see if a different set of timing could make a difference. 

So you sigh. 

“I guess I should text Jungkook, huh.” 

Karly pats you on the shoulder. “Take the plunge, my dude.” 

.

You do take the plunge. You take Jungkook’s business card out from the pocket of your dress and dial the number. He expresses excitement—and also relief. 

These things lead up to the current moment. Eight o’clock in the morning: you lingering in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, your suitcase by the door, and a roommate keeping you company. 

You don’t realize how nervous you are until you get a text from Jungkook. 

Jungkook (8:03am): i’m here! u can buzz me up so i can help u with your stuff :) 

You (8:03am): it’s ok jungkook it’s just a suitcase. i’ll be down in a second! 

You pocket your phone, and Karly can read the expression across your face before you realize what is going on. She straightens up. “He’s here?” 

“Yeah.” You rinse your coffee cup and make your way towards the door. “Did you want to come down with me?” 

Karly stops and gives you a look. “I thought that was already implied.” 

“Well, thanks, that’s really nice—!” 

“Someone has to give you an embarrassing goodbye.” 

“There it is.” You sigh. You don’t say anything as you and Karly exit the apartment and make your way down the hall into the elevator. It only takes a few seconds for the elevator to lower down to the ground floor, where you and Karly exit and make your way to the front of the apartment complex. 

You swear your heart beats just a little faster as soon as you see Jungkook near the front entrance of the building. He’s wearing a pair of black jackets with an oversized denim jacket and currently looking down at his phone—overall appearing so tall and pretty and otherworldly. For a brief second, you are taken by the fact that for the next four days, he’ll be yours. 

Jungkook looks up as soon as he hears the door opening and he smiles. “Hey you.” 

You smile, albeit a little lopsided and dreamy. “Hi.” 

Jungkook walks towards you immediately. “Here, let me help you with that.” He reaches a hand out and gently takes the handle of your suitcase before you can say anything. Just as he’s taking the suitcase from you, Karly emerges from the building. “Oh, sorry about that.” 

Karly waves him off. “Don’t be. I’m Y/N’s roommate—I’m just here to see her off.” 

Jungkook stares at her for a moment, then he snaps his fingers. “Wait, I remember you. You went to college with us too.” He jerks his chin towards you. “You hung out with Y/N a lot, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m Karly.” She holds out her hand for Jungkook to shake. “And you’re right, she and I hung out a lot. We were roommates back then too.” 

Jungkook nods in understanding, before shoving his hand into his pocket. His other hand is still holding onto your suitcase. “Well, I promise to take good care of Y/N.” 

Karly smacks her teeth against the side of her mouth as she points at him. “You’re a good man, Jungkook.” She pauses for a moment, seeming to contemplate a new thought. You recognize the look immediately, and your fingers twitch as if you want to strangle her. Or at least let her know you’re throwing her a look of murderous intent. But of course, Karly doesn’t see it. And even if she had, you doubt she’d care. “But no funny business, alright.” 

You gape at her. “Karly!” 

Jungkook coughs at that. “I-It’s just a drive—y-you don’t need to worry about that.” He does, however, turn away to hide the red that dusts his cheeks. 

As soon as Jungkook’s back is facing you, you whirl around to shoot Karly with a glare. “Karly, you’re lucky I’m leaving for the next four days or I would not hesitate to figure out how to make stuffocation look like an accident!” You hiss out between teeth without taking a breath. 

Karly glares right back. “You’re really dumb, aren’t you? The fact that he recognizes me because he saw you hanging out with me on campus doesn’t strike any chords? Even though, like you said, you guys weren’t really friends?” 

You blink. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Karly widens her eyes. “What the fuck do you mean? Are you dumb with all the boys or just Jungkook?” 

“What do you mean!” You snap back. 

“So, Y/N, ready to go?” 

You whirl back around to find Jungkook now standing in front of you and Karly. He must have finished packing your suitcase in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head. 

So you force a smile. “Of course,” You say, turning to Karly. “I was just saying bye to my roommate.” 

He nods in understanding, sparing one more glance at Karly before seeming to decide against it because he looks away. He’s still a little red at Karly’s previous comment. “We should get going then.” 

“Sure.” You look over at your roommate. “See you, bitch.” 

Karly waves back, grinning wildly. You just know she has several other thoughts she’d like to share with you, but has probably deemed you embarrassed enough. Lucky for you, she keeps her mouth shut. 

Unlucky for you, without Karly to be a barrier of distraction, this leaves you alone with Jungkook. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, still not yet processing the weight of what you’ve just agreed to. You fiddle alone for a second before Jungkook is opening the driver’s side and shifting into his seat. 

There is a silence as Jungkook is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. Or at least have the ground swallow you whole. Holy fuck, what did you just sign up for? 

Your mind somehow takes five seconds to turn into complete shambles that you almost miss Jungkook’s question. 

“Here, I’m giving you an important mission,” Jungkook says, rummaging through the various chords that lay over the center console before producing an aux cord. “Should you choose to accept.” 

He’s got on such a serious expression you momentarily forget about your anxiety. His usage of the iconic line from Mission Impossible makes you laugh—a breathy sort of noise that escapes when your mind is too full. You still take the aux cord. “Oh my god—ever heard of bluetooth?” 

He pouts. “It hasn’t even been five minutes and you’re already insulting my beautiful Celia!” 

You raise both your eyebrows. “Celia?” 

“Yeah, that’s the name of my car.” He catches the bewildered look you give him before angling himself back to face the steering wheel, where he shifts his console into drive and makes a turn onto the main street. “If you’re already weirded out by the fact I have a name for my baby, then you’re in for a very long four days, Miss. Y/N.” 

You giggle, feeling that distraction of nerves start to come off your shoulders. “Not weird at all.” You pause. “Ryan is the name of my car.” 

“Ah!” He holds one arm out in a grand gesture. “You see, not so strange after all.” He steals a glance at you, watching as you’re about to connect your phone to the aux cord. “Wait!” He says, pointing a finger at you. 

You look up at him, wide eyes. 

He’s still holding an arm up. “How’s your music taste?” 

You’re still giving him your surprised expression. “You scared me!” 

He laughs, returning his hand back to the steering wheel. “Sorry, sorry. I have to ask though—I’d rather know now than later, so I can kick you out and not feel as bad about it.” 

Your laughter seems to melt away the last of your nervous energy. “Nice to know you’re putting all your cards out now.” You look down at your phone. “Regarding my music taste… it’s whatever you want dude! I have some lo-fi on here, some pop, alternative, Broadway, anime openings… an ‘everything’ playlist. Honestly, the world is your oyster.” 

“How about we start with your ‘everything’ playlist,” Jungkook suggests. “That way I can judge you immediately.” 

“Were you always this charming, Jeon Jungkook?” You retort. “Or has graduation changed you?” 

“Oh, I’ve always been this charming—you just never noticed.” 

That comment, however, goes over your head as you focus down on your playlist. You look over, selecting the shuffle option as Taylor Swift’s soft music from her newest album fills the air. Another silence fills the car, but it’s much more peaceful and comfortable. You allow yourself to settle further into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. 

“So,” You start after a moment. Jungkook hums to let you know he’s paying attention. “What inspired the name Celia?” 

Jungkook brightens at the question. “She was this character from a book I read when I was younger. The Night Circus? Anyways, the book is about these two illusionists who try to one up each other with their skills of magic, but they end up falling in love. Celia is the name of one of those illusionists.” 

You grin. “Sounds like a very cute crush.” 

Jungkook grins back. 

The drive out of the city continues like this. The pair of you cover the topic of books, of music, of your favorite animes. Jungkook just has this magical power of ensuring the tension dissipates from your mind and stays gone—whether it’s through his relaxed nature or easy-going teasing or his ability to ease the conversation from one topic to the next. It feels like every conversation you and Jungkook had in college, whether vague or circling around classes, all have led up to this moment. It seems like everytime you or Jungkook run out of things to talk about pertaining to a certain topic, you would bring up memories from college and just continue from there. Everything feels natural. 

It continues to feel natural even as you and Jungkook slowly start to see the edges of the city landscape fade away. The high rises fade into shorter buildings and smaller business areas that surround the bustling city scene. You watch as those buildings and business areas become rows of houses. Residential areas in the suburbs, passing by the occasional school or corner restaurants. 

“Before we enter the wide unknown,” Jungkook starts up, breaking the quiet that has enveloped the car. “You want to pick up lunch? You hungry?” 

You haven’t even realized how much time has gone by until you look at the clock on Jungkook’s dashboard and notice that it’s past noon. You widen your eyes at the sight. “Wow, I didn’t even realize so much time had passed.” 

“Yeah, we drove through a few cities. Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?” 

“You wish,” You tease, sticking your tongue out. “So, what, do we stop at a Cheesecake factory or something?” 

Jungkook blinks. “I thought you were poor—why would we stop at the Cheesecake factory? And why is that the first restaurant that comes to your mind?” 

You wave your hands. “It was just a suggestion!” 

“Well, I’m realizing that I should probably let you know that the motel I picked for us to drive to tonight is pretty far out—Google Maps says we probably won’t get there until midnight, and that’s with us driving straight through.” 

“Midnight? Fuck, Jungkook. Will we make it to the wedding a day early or something?” 

“Ha, ha, no. I’ll go over the schedule I planned out tomorrow. Basically, I want to try and cover most of our ground on the first day so we can take the rest of the trip easy. But I thought I’d let you know now that sitting in a restaurant probably won’t be the most time responsible idea.” 

“That’s true.” You look out the window again and see the golden arches of McDonalds appear within your line of sight. “Let’s just stop at McDonalds.” 

Jungkook follows your gaze. “Alright, down. Let’s do it.” 

He exits off the freeway, following down a route that takes him almost immediately towards the McDonalds parking lot. Since this restaurant is still within the lines of the city, it’s not completely deserted. There are a few cars in the parking lot, even fewer cars in the drive-through line. Because of this, ordering the food only takes a few minutes. Both of you get chicken nuggets, sodas, and large orders of french fries. 

“You know, we’re really living like kings,” You comment as Jungkook drives out and makes his way back onto the freeway. “College graduates, both somehow able to secure a job, and still ordering chicken mcnuggets.” 

Jungkook shrugs. “I wasn’t told this is what adulthood would be like. But I’m not complaining. My 10-year-old self is singing in so much joy right now.” He says this as he’s stuffing a handful of fries into your mouth. You laugh, and hand him a napkin. 

You turn the music back on. The pair of you silently munch on your chicken nuggets, as you angle your head towards the side window once again. As Jungkook drives, the numbers of structural spaces become more scattered the longer you both continue down the freeway. 

The anime opening to Haikyuu starts playing when you turn back to Jungkook and realize that he’s trying to close the box of his chicken nuggets. You move right away, taking the cardboard from him and closing it yourself. “Let me know if you need anything, Jungkook. Think of me as your co-pilot.” 

He laughs gently. “Is that the rule of the passenger seat?” 

You shrug, putting the empty box into the McDonalds bag near your feet. “For me at least. Everytime I do one of these drives with family, the person in the passenger seat has to open the snacks, make conversation, and always stay awake with the driver. It’s just courtesy.”

Jungkook is smiling softly now, mostly to himself, but it lights the corners of his eyes that makes you momentarily unable to look away. “You wanna tell me about your family?” 

So you do. Your voice becomes softer as you continue, but Jungkook listens to every single word you say. 

True to his observation, it’s not long before the pair of you are surrounded by the wide unknown. Houses in the suburbs become farmhouses and farms. Conversations fade from your family to another comfortable silence as you continue gazing out the window. Jungkook requests your lo-fi playlist at some point, filling the car with the soft and distorted hums. It allows your mind to wander as you stare out the window. The empty stretches of land around you are filled with greenery, with mountains, cutting right through the perfect blue of the sky above you. 

By 4:00PM, your entire body is starting to feel the ache of having been seated for long hours on end. You feel the tightness in the muscles of your thigh, the bones in your knees. 

Jungkook must be feeling the same, because as soon as a sign for a rest stop comes on, he exits the freeway and pulls into a large parking lot. There’s a restroom on the side, but the area is surrounded by trees with mountains standing in the background. 

Jungkook stops the car. “We should get out for a bit to move our legs.” 

You’re already tugging on the latch that’ll open the car door. “I’m already feeling it in my knees.” You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction, and Jungkook laughs from next to you. 

He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same. 

You turn to face Jungkook. “I’m gonna use the restroom.” You gesture towards the building and earn a nod from Jungkook, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later. 

Jungkook gestures to the trees surrounding the parking lot. “Want to take a walk around the area? Keep the blood flowing to our legs.” 

You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” 

“Why don’t you get started. I’ll catch up.” Jungkook watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around. 

He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name. You turn around. “Jungkook!” 

The sight before you makes you waver slightly, as bouts of shyness overtake you. Standing before you is Jungkook, with his camera in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jungkook grins. “Say hi!” 

You whine, whirling back around and covering your face. “Are you filming me right now?” 

“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jungkook teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. You think I won’t film it?” 

You snort, starting your walk around the parking lot. “Oh yeah, because there aren’t any parking lots and trees and bathroom stops at home.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a second. “That’s not what I meant.” 

You turn to stare right into the lens of his camera. “Then the mountains, right?” 

He’s quiet for another second. “Sure.” He does, however, sound a little disappointed. You do not notice this. 

The pair of you stay quiet as you make your round around the parking lot, taking in the mountains from different angles. The walk around is mostly just to rid of the sensation of your legs falling off, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you finish a complete round, you and Jungkook return back to the car. You watch as he carefully places his camera into his camera bag before you’re both back in your seats. 

Jungkook turns to you. “Ready to get going again?” He looks at the control panel behind his steering wheel. “We’ll probably have to stop for gas in a few hours. But after that, it’s straight to the hotel.” 

You settle back into the passenger seat. “I guess we already have our dinner plans then.” You’re referring to the gas station. 

Jungkook grins. “I’m down for that.” 

And so, the trip continues back on the freeway. With the lo-fi playing in the background, you watch as the sun tears through the blue sky, as the sun finally begins it’s dip to the other side. The singular color once spread across the pane of atmosphere now conjugates around the sun crawling behind the mountain—creating a diffusion of new colors. The corner of the mountain emits an explosion of oranges, pinks, and purples. 

You lift your head from the window, eyes taking in the rainbow of pastels around the now fading sun. “Wow, Jungkook, look at that sunset.” 

He snorts. “You wanna talk about things that you can’t see back in the city?” 

You pout. “But it looks so pretty, see!” You keep gesturing towards the sunset. 

Jungkook relents just enough to spare a glance in the direction. He hums. “Yeah, it’s pretty.” He looks back at the road. “Can’t really find a view like that in the city.” 

You spend a little more time admiring the sunset than Jungkook does, for obvious reasons. You’ve seen a sunset plenty of times before in the past, but the context of this whole situation makes you unable to look away from it. You’re really out here, stuck in a car with someone you have never hung out with for longer than a few minutes. But you are enjoying yourself. There's peace in that. 

So you watch until the sun dips below the mountain, momentarily leaving the sky in a navy color. 

The next time Jungkook speaks, the area around you is much darker, and the sky is nearly black. “You hungry now?” 

You lift your head from the seat, not even realizing you were drifting off. You’re thinking about Irene, wondering if you should have texted her directly congratulating her on the wedding rather than just simply sending in the RSVP. “Sure. We eat as the car eats, right?” 

Jungkook smiles, a gesture you can barely make out from the headlines. “Of course.” 

This goes on for a few more miles until the sign for a gas station comes up. A few other cars linger near the dispensers. Jungkook parks near his choice and gets out of the car. You follow behind him. He’s already sliding his credit card into the machine, and the sight makes you reach over to grab his wrist. 

“I should pay, you’ve been driving all day!” 

He shakes his head, waving you off. “We’ll take turns, okay?” He looks at you. “Buy me dinner tonight too, that sound fair?” 

You pout, leaning back as you cross your arms. “Not really, but I guess I’ll have to accept it.” 

He grins. “You are correct.” 

As soon as the gas pump alerts you of the filled tank, Jungkook returns the pump back to the machine and locks his car. Together, the two of you make your way towards the convenience store, where the bell above rings to alert the workers of your presence. Nods are exchanged as you and Jungkook tear through the aisles to find anything that could satisfy your cravings. You return back with family size bags of hot cheetos and beef jerky, while Jungkook holds his selection of roasted seaweed and Doritos. You select your drinks together before returning to the cashier. 

It’s nearing 9:00PM as you and Jungkook return back to his car, where you slide back into your seats and immediately tear into your bags of salt and sodium. 

“How are you doing?” You ask as Jungkook finishes his first bag of roasted seaweed. 

Jungkook pulls out his phone, scrolling through the final stretch needed to reach the hotel. “Yeah, about four more hours to the motel.” He looks over at you. “I’m good. The salt in this seaweed really helps. How are you doing?” 

You nod immediately. “Great. Perfect.” 

He smiles, shifting his console to drive and pulling out of the gas station. “I’m used to these weird hours. Remember how I told you I traveled around a bit with Mingyu and Wonwoo? There was this one day we only slept for an hour or something? It sucked, I think I almost passed out that day. But yeah, this is honestly not even that bad.” He turns to look at you. “I think the good company helps, too.” 

You roll your eyes, grinning. “You flatter me, Jeon.” 

Slowly, 8PM turns into 10PM. One glance at Google maps tells you that you’re still two hours from the hotel. Even though you’re not the one driving, and although you haven’t endured any physical activity that could result in this exhaustion, you still find yourself growing tired. Something about sitting under the sun, sitting in a vehicle that rocks side to side with a consistent hum—it makes your mind work slowly and therefore brings out the sleepiness quicker. 

You settle deeper into your seat. 

Jungkook giggles from next to you. “You tired already?” 

You pout slowly, eyes closed just enough. “I’m not a morning person and you made me wake up at 8!” 

“Sure, sure, of course.” 

There’s a pause. 

You ponder a question for a moment. It’s something that you would never dare ask Jungkook if you had been more awake and more alert. But you’re tired, and your defenses are lowered, and it means you are more prone to asking questions. “Hey, Jungkook? Did you have any girlfriends when we were in college?” 

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. “Where’s this coming from?” He asks instead. 

You shrug, making a dismissive noise as your shoulders rise up. “Curiosity.” 

A pause. “I went on a few dates, but I never had a serious relationship.” 

“No way.” You lift your head up from the seat. “But I remember seeing you hang out with the occasional girl in the quad, or at some restaurants around the school.” 

Jungkook smiles. It’s hard to read the look in his eyes. They’re focused on the road in front of him, but they seem almost hazy and faraway. “Like I said, I went on a few dates. I did really want to get into a long term relationship in college. A lot of my friends had them, that’s where my parents met, so I was really open to the idea of at least experimenting. There were a lot of girls that I thought were nice, easy-going, or just really pretty, so I tried my hand in the whole dating thing.” 

“And it didn’t work out?” You coax out gently. 

“Not really,” He continues. He steals a glance at you. “We’d go on a few dates, but none of them ever felt substantial. I think girls see me and have a certain expectation—an expectation I couldn’t meet. So I never could picture myself in a long term relationship with any of them.” 

You tilt your head towards him. “There must have been someone…” 

“Well… there was one girl.” Jungkook starts after a moment. He’s not looking at you this time. “We had a few classes together earlier—we weren’t in the same major program. I don’t even know if I’d say we were close or anything. We just had a few classes and saw each other around on occasion. But the conversations we did have during class or outside of class just felt more real. Honestly, I could have been totally wrong about her. I could have just been blinded by all these expectations I was putting on her, which is ironic. But she was the only person I could actually see myself being in a long term relationship with. Or at least try.” 

You hum, still facing towards him in your seat. “Why didn’t you try anything then? You’re a good guy, Jungkook. I’m sure she would have wanted to try with you too.” 

“I guess I was just afraid of pushing it and scaring her off. I thought it was better to stay friends with her than try to pursue something. She never gave me an indication that she felt the same.” 

“And how do you feel now?” 

There’s a pause this time. “I don’t know honestly. We remained friends up until graduation but, uh, never saw her again. I do wonder from time to time how she’s doing.” 

“You should reach out to her,” You advise softly. “Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird.” You grin at him. “You need to make your move.” 

It is then that Jungkook turns to look at you. He looks for a little longer this time, eyes focused entirely on you. Underneath the small crescent of the moon above, you are still able to make out his facial features. His cheeks, his nose, his eyes—the latter is glimmering, like he knows something that you don’t. 

“I’m working on that,” He mumbles softly. You turn your head back towards the road. 

. 

You wake up the next morning feeling groggy, dirty, and messy. Your head lifts up from a pillow you can only vaguely remember falling on, laying on top of a bed you only vaguely remember throwing yourself in. There’s sunlight pouring into the room, but it feels like early morning sun. There’s a crisp in the air that you can feel, that you see out of the window. Right outside is the gathering of bushes and trees, a bright blue sky.

You are in the motel. 

Slowly, you push yourself into a sitting position, until you’re resting atop the white linen of your bed. Across the room, snuggled in his own twin bed, is Jungkook. His lashes are fanning across his cheekbones, his lips are parted, and his breathing is slow and soft.

It isn’t until Jungkook shifts in bed that you realize you’ve been watching him like a creep. Hastily, you tear your gaze away and decide to focus your gaze down. You notice immediately that you are not underneath the blankets. Instead, you are lying underneath Jungkook’s jacket. 

You roll the jacket off your frame, discovering that you are still in last night’s clothes—which explains why you were feeling so groggy and discombobulated. You look across the floor of the hotel room. Your suitcase is near the foot of your bed, and your phone sits on your nightstand connected to your charger. 

Vaguely, you recall what had happened the previous night—how Jungkook drove into the hotel room nearing midnight and the exhaustion was so overpowering that you and Jungkook blindly asked for any room with two twin beds before following through and practically collapsing into your respected beds. 

You definitely did that, which explains why you were on top of the bed, why you’re still in yesterday’s clothes, and why Jungkook’s jacket was your blanket. Stealing another glance at Jungkook: underneath the blankets and in a different t-shirt—you can assume that he was able to take a shower before lying down. 

With a sigh, you push off Jungkook’s jacket and lay it down on the bed next to you. Hoping not to disturb Jungkook, you slide out of bed and lower your suitcase to the ground. After fishing out a new set of clothes, you decide to take a shower. 

The warmth from the shower is the best breath of fresh air you’ve gotten since hitting the road with Jungkook. It feels like your body is going through a battery recharge, and it’s one you take your time with. You step out of the shower, running the towel through your hair and drying yourself enough to slip on your outfit for the day. The towel is thrown around your neck as you step out of the shower, letting the steam follow you out of the bathroom. 

Jungkook is still sleeping as you step out, which is good otherwise you’d feel bad for having disturbed his sleep time. After all the driving he did yesterday, you figure he deserves a few extra hours regardless of what the schedule calls for. 

You continue running the towel through your hair as you pick up your phone. Strangely, you do not remember connecting it to a charger before knocking out, but you pick it up regardless to see the 9:00AM time across your screen. 

There’s a quiet that takes over, in which you’re sitting perched comfortably on your bed and scrolling through your phone as Jungkook continues to drift a few feet away from you. 

About thirty minutes seem to pass before Jungkook is moaning softly to himself, letting out a puff of air as he slowly opens his eyes. His arms extend above him, knocking into the headboard and making him curse softly to himself. His eyes open as he lowers his hands to inspect the damage before immediately looking over towards you. 

He blinks, a tired smile overtaking his lips as he arches his back into a stretch. “Hey,” He greets, voice rough and scratchy and making your heart clench. Damn thing. “You’re awake. You knocked out pretty quickly as soon as we got the room.” 

You laugh. “Yeah, I honestly figured that.” You pick up his jacket, as if he hadn’t been the one to lay it on you those hours ago. “Thanks for trying to help me get comfortable.” You gesture towards the nightstand. “Did you find my charger too?” 

Jungkook sits up as he continues a small round of stretches and yawns. “I did,” He says. “You were barely coherent, but made enough sense to tell me where it was in your bag. Sorry for going through it, by the way.” 

You shake your head, waving him off. “No worries. Thank you again, Jungkook.” 

The pair of you stare at each other for a few moments, before that silence is broken by Jungkook’s phone going off. You look down as Jungkook snatches his own phone off the nightstand. He scrolls through something, before placing it back. 

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You ask, bringing your fingers through your hair to comb and give you a distraction. 

“Oh! Right.” Jungkook swings his legs off the side of the bed. “We have a slower day today. The hotel I picked is only about five hours away? We’re driving through the mountains today, so there’s this place I want to visit that has a little restaurant and everything. It’ll be a cute pit stop.” 

You nod. “Awesome, okay.” You curl your fingers around the strands of now loose strands of hair. 

It takes another hour until you and Jungkook are packed up again and ready to leave. A quick stop to the lobby provides both of you with a bagel and cup of coffee each as your breakfast. All before you’re once again sliding into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. 

You roll your shoulders before clicking your seatbelt in. “Ready for another long day?” 

“Of course.” He digs through his center console, producing his aux cord. “Your mission,” He says dramatically, not unlike yesterday. “Should you choose to accept.” 

You laugh gently, taking the cord. “You in love with Mission Impossible or something? This is the second time in two days you’re quoting it to me.” 

And this is how your day starts off—talks of Mission Impossible films that bleed into conversations about movies. 

The day at 10 o’clock in the morning is bright and blue as Jungkook drives back onto the freeway and continues down the road. The first few hours consist of the surrounding flatland, of green grass and high mountains all around. Conversations between you and Jungkook are a little more scattered today, but there’s a new level of comfort about the situation. With both of you well rested, it invites a more relaxed atmosphere as you pass the occasional joke or story time between the pair of you. 

As the sun continues to travel higher in the sky, Jungkook’s car starts it’s approach up the mountain. The trees start enveloping the pair of you into a newer, higher world. Not only that, but whenever you and Jungkook reach a clearing, it exposes a dip of lakes, grass, and mountains. And you, always having enjoyed the views of nature, keep an open eye for every single thing. 

You see Jungkook’s choice of destination before he does, and you gasp excitedly. 

Up ahead is a cloud of pink, white, and red flowers covering an entire mountain side. There is an occasional pop of cedar trees amongst the covering of pink, white, and red, but the colors are so poignant that it captures your attention immediately. 

You point to it. “Is that where we’re going?” 

Jungkook grins. “Surprise!” He’s selected this spot before offering the invitation to let you come along, but you’re not complaining. You’ve never been to a flower farm before, despite having heard about them and seen pictures of them for most of your childhood. You continue to watch with wide eyes and bright smiles as Jungkook drives closer and closer to the destination, finally parking in the appropriate lot after paying the fee. 

You’re practically vibrating in your seat with excitement. “Jungkook, Jungkook, c’mon let’s go, let’s go!” You push on the latch and nearly tumble out onto the ground. You straighten to stand on your feet, before meeting Jungkook near the trunk of his car. Surprise, surprise, he pulls out his camera and loops the strap over his head. 

He’s grinning as he closes the trunk. “You’re a little excited, aren’t you?” 

“A little?” You echo, clapping your hands, seemingly unable to wipe the grin off your face. “Jungkook, this is a flower farm! It’s so exciting!” 

So you dart off with Jungkook following closely behind you. The parking lot is located at the top of the flower farm, so the tour around the fields is a downwards one towards the bottom. A small pathway maps out a route for you to follow as you take in the various lines of flowers and colors. One short glimpse at the brochure tells you that these are spring flowers, and that you and Jungkook are visiting during the perfect season. You and Jungkook continue through your makeshift tour in silence, taking in the flowers as well as the view that extends out far beyond your line of sight while Jungkook snaps photographs behind you. Words don’t need to be said when everything around you says it all. 

At the bottom of the field is a cafe, a small brick building with an outdoor seating area facing the now upward flower display. You and Jungkook order sandwiches and soda, and take your seats outside as you wait for your number to be called. There are a fair amount of people today at the field, most of which you can see ahead roaming through the flowers ahead. 

“Have you ever been to a flower farm before?” Jungkook asks, as he glances over at you to see how bright your expression is. 

You smile as you turn to him. “No, never. But thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful here.” 

Jungkook smiles, looking a little smug. He looks proud of himself. “I’ve always wanted to come here, so I’m glad I was able to bring you along.” It looks like he wants to say more, but the number that rests between Jungkook’s fingers is called out, interrupting the conversation. He returns a moment later with the food. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” He says, taking the sandwich plate off the tray and placing it in front of you. 

You take the napkins that are being offered to you. “What’s up?” 

He settles down into his seat. “I didn’t get to return the question that you asked me last night.” 

It takes you a second to realize what he’s referring to. Immediately, you feel yourself turn red as you press your lips together. You were definitely drowsy last night, and hadn’t put too much consideration in the aftermath of asking Jungkook about his college relationships. You instead try for a laugh, as you wave him off. “Well, you don’t need to ask me. It’s pretty boring.” 

“Nonsense,” Jungkook brushes off, taking another bite of his sandwich. “So tell me, did you get into any relationships in college?” 

You laugh, albeit a little nervously. “No, not really. I never even went on any dates before—I guess, like you, I just couldn’t see myself in any long term relationship with anyone that seemed to like me.” 

“Well, how about crushes on your end? Did you like anyone?” 

You gaze over at Jungkook—taking in his wide curious eyes, his soft voice, his contagious laugh. The memories of him waving at you in class, of him catching up to you afterwards to continue previous conversations, of him going out of his way to say hi to you in the library. Jungkook has always been thoughtful, considerate, and soft along the edges. How could you not have crushed on him during college? 

And how could you not continue to have these lingering feelings for him afterwards? 

You think about your own advice you had given to Jungkook. You should reach out to her. Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird. You need to make your move. Could you even follow your own advice? 

You look down before Jungkook could start asking questions about your staring. “There was this one guy,” You start, trying for an uneasy laugh. “But I don’t think he ever noticed me. Well, that’s a lie. I guess we were kind of friends? I think it’s more along the lines of me being out of his league.” 

“That’s depressing,” Jungkook notes as he finishes his sandwich. You hardly even noticed him inhaling the thing. “How could you be out of a guy’s league? You’re so smart and funny and easy to talk to—if anything, a guy would probably be out of your league.” He leans forward, bringing you close enough where you can clearly make out the mole underneath his lip. “Tell me about this punk. So I can tell you he’s not good enough for you.” 

You laugh, keeping your gaze on him. You doubt he’d be so confident had he known about ‘this punk’. “He isn’t a punk,” You remark quietly. “He’s really nice, and really sweet. I was pretty quiet in college. Definitely introverted and kept to myself and had a hard time making friends. Although I would have honestly barely considered him a friend, he just made me feel like my time was meaningful and my attention was valuable to him.” Jungkook’s eyes continue to bore into yours. “If anything, I just wish he knew how much I admire him.” 

Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering across your face, once again displaying that unreadable expression. Yet, despite that, something glimmers in his eyes and he seems to come to an understanding you yourself don’t know about. That glimmer keeps swimming across the orbs, even as he switches his gaze between your eyes. They flicker down to your lips for a second, and your heart stutters in your chest. 

Jungkook coughs, pulling away from you as he seems to hyper-focus his attention on the soda still in front of him. He looks shy as he steals another glance at you from across the table. “He might not have made you feel that important if you were too scared to tell him how you felt.” 

You look down at your sandwich and take another bite. Something about the way he’s staring holes into the side of your face tells you that he knows something that you don’t. You wonder what he’s thinking. 

Jungkook wears that thoughtful expression for the rest of the visit to the flower field, as the pair of you return back to his car and slide back in your seats. He stays quiet as you resume the trip, slowly making your way back onto the freeway and towards your second motel. 

This kind of quiet is different than the previous silences the pair of you have grown to share over the past twenty-four hours. Unlike the comfortable moments of unspoken words, this is more tense. Like he knows something that you don’t. 

You don’t know what to say, or how to break that silence. You don’t know if perhaps you said something you shouldn’t have, or said something to make him uncomfortable. All of those thoughts are not pleasant ones. 

Jungkook stays quiet for most of the drive through the mountain. The music you have selected is loud enough that seems to drown the tense atmosphere, but the questions still press themselves deeply into your mind. What is he thinking about? 

And worse of all: did he know you were talking about him? 

You and Jungkook only speak a handful of times during the trip. He asks you if you need to use the restroom, if you’re hungry, and if you could play him your favorite anime openings. The pair of you have a handful of laughs about your mutual love for Haikyuu and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but most of the drive to the motel is ridden out in silence. 

The pair of you reach the hotel around dinnertime, definitely nowhere as exhausted as you had been the previous night, but just as eager to finally reach your destination. The tension between you and Jungkook has eased slightly, so you can only assume that perhaps he has overcome whatever was bothering him. You yourself have pushed the thought of Jungkook knowing the truth out of your mind. After all, if he had known, you assume he would have brought it up. Or at least called for an Uber to send you home. You assume you would have provided some sort of reaction for the two of you to talk about. But alas, those thoughts follow a conversation that has not happened, and will probably never happen, because you’re sure that you’ll never have to be in a situation that forces your feelings to go out of control once again—! 

“Hi,” Jungkook returns to the hotel clerk behind the desk, a girl to be about your age, who is flickering her gaze between you and Jungkook. A flicker in her eyes tells you that she already has multiple thoughts and assumptions about your relationship. “Do you have a room with two beds?” 

“Oh!” The girl blinks, momentarily looking taken aback. “Of course, let me check.” She turns her attention to the computer screen in front of her. Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m sorry sir, we only have rooms with one bed available—either a full, queen, or king-size mattress.” 

Jungkook makes a noise in the back of his throat as he taps his credit card on the desk. Just watching from the side, you notice how he swallows, how he looks down, how his cheeks turn red. He turns to you after a moment. “D-Do you, uh, do you mind?” 

It takes you a second to realize what Jungkook is asking. He’s asking if you’d be okay with sharing a bed with him. Him: your college crush, the guy you never really lost feelings for. 

You turn red too. “U-Um…” You press your lips together and swallow. “S-Sure,” You manage, waving your hands out in front of you. “I-I don’t mind. I-If you don’t mind, of course.” 

“I-I don’t mind either.” Jungkook, however, looks like he’s about to combust. He looks a little lost again. He blinks once, twice, and seems to realize that he’s supposed to hand the woman behind the desk his card. “Uh, whichever room is the cheapest.” 

“That’ll be the room with the full-size bed.” She flickers her gaze between the two of you. “If that’s okay.” 

“O-Of course,” He stammers back, allowing the girl to take the card. He looks at you. “Do you mind staying here? I have to go to the bathroom real quick.” 

“S-Sure, go ahead.” A part of you wants to hit your head on the desk. What is happening to you? Why is the mere thought of sharing a bed with Jungkook turning you into a pile of mush? You’re a grown ass woman—! 

“So the two of you on vacation or something?” The woman behind the desk asks. She’s still in the middle of scanning Jungkook’s credit card. 

You try for a smile. “Kind of, we’re going to a friend’s wedding.” 

“I see, that sounds fun.” She smiles. “You know, I have to be honest, I was a little surprised he asked for two beds. You guys would make a cute couple.” 

At the label, you start to turn red. “O-Oh n-no, we’re not a couple at all. That’s very flattering, b-but yeah we’re not together.” 

“Oh, I know,” The girl rebuffs. Her smile looks more like a grin. She places Jungkook’s credit card on the desk, along with a receipt and a pen. “I hope the full size bed will change that.” She gives you a wink. 

You part your lips, unsure what to make of the situation. “What—!” 

“I’m back,” Jungkook says, sliding up from behind you and making you jump slightly. “What did I miss?” 

“Uh…” You wonder if your face is too red or not. It certainly feels that way. “Here!” You push him forward towards the desk. “She scanned your credit card. You just need to sign and we’ll be on our way.” 

If Jungkook notices the stiffness in your posture, he doesn’t comment as he leans forward to sign the receipt. Just over Jungkook’s shoulder is the worker, looking at you with a now shit-eating grin across her lips. Several questions ping through your mind, but you don’t get to ask any of those because Jungkook is turning around with his credit card in hand. 

“Uh, ready to get going?” 

“Sure!” You say, voice a few several pitches higher and you return to wanting the ground to swallow you whole. Jungkook leads the way out of the lobby, and you dare one last glance back towards the woman behind the counter. 

She’s waving a slip of paper in her hand. 

You turn back to Jungkook. “Hey Jungkook, give me a second. I think we forgot to grab something at the desk.” 

It sort of feels like a walk of shame to reach the worker behind the counter, who is still grinning at the sight of you and your internal struggles. She hands you the slip of paper, mouths something that makes you go red, before you’re turning back towards Jungkook. “Good luck,” She had whispered. 

Before you’re reaching Jungkook, you open the paper. At the very top is the WiFi password. 

Underneath the WiFi password, in what you can only assume is her handwriting, is one sentence. Fate said you guys only get one bed- don’t worry, I think he likes you too :-) 

“What was that about?” Jungkook asks. 

You shove the paper into your pocket. “The WiFi password,” You supply. 

The walk to the hotel room is quiet as Jungkook leads the way through the different hallways, corridors, and numbers on plaques. That tense silence is back as he guides the two of you, stopping only when he reaches the number that matches the one on the index card. He gives you a look, and inserts the card key into the slot. The door beeps, and he pushes open the door to find, true to the word of the lady behind the counter, one full-sized bed in the middle of the room. 

For the first few hours, it’s easy to ignore that full-sized elephant in the room. Jungkook takes out his laptop and you guys watch your favorite season of Haikyuu together—it’s season two—or you guys linger about on your phones. It isn’t until nighttime falls into your bones, into your minds, that you realize that you really need to address the new situation. 

“I’m gonna take a shower first, if that’s okay,” You say, already sliding off the bed to gather your belongings from your suitcase. Jungkook is humming along to the Haikyuu ending song, but he stops long enough to accept you taking the first shower. He watches you as you fish pajamas out from your suitcase. “Hey, Jungkook…” You start. “Are you sure you’re cool with this?” You gesture to the bed. “I can sleep on the floor. They give you extra bedding for a reason…” 

“What? No, of course not, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” He moves until his knees are pressed into the mattress. “And I’m cool with this. Promise.” He hesitates. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

“Y-Yeah,” You manage, straightening into a standing position with your clothes in hand. “I don’t really move around when I’m sleeping. And I trust you, Jungkook.” You keep your gaze on each other until you break it first, turning around to step into the bathroom. 

You step out many minutes later, hair freshly washed and feeling much more relaxed than before. Jungkook has moved to the desk in the corner of the hotel room, typing away at some emails on his laptops. He does, however, whirl around upon hearing you exit the bathroom. The sight of you in your sweats, t-shirt, and damp hair makes his eyes linger. 

You merely tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can go now,” You say quietly. 

Jungkook nods. “Thanks.” 

Breaking that eye contact again, you turn to the bed and lift the blankets to slide under the covers. You rest your head on the pillow, and immediately start to drift away. 

You are brought back after what only feels like a few minutes, when you hear a light switch turn off followed by the blanket next to you lifting up. You turn slightly towards the other side of the bed. “Jungkook?” You whisper. 

A stillness. “Ah shit, I’m sorry. I was trying to be sneaky.” 

“Mmm…” You mumble softly, turning your body 180 degrees in order to face him. You can vaguely make out the shadow of Jungkook’s outline. “Don’t worry. I’m a really light sleeper. Come on in.” 

There is a shift in the blankets until you feel the additional weight of Jungkook’s figure crawling in next to you. The knowledge that Jungkook is lying right next to you turns your blood hot both with anxiety and because Jungkook brings in a new wave of heat underneath the covers. For a cool spring night, it’s comforting. But also further anxiety-inducing. 

Jungkook shifts and even though the pair of you are on opposite sides of the bed, you can still feel the warmth radiating off his body. In the silence of the hotel room, you can hear Jungkook breathing. 

“Is this okay?” It’s Jungkook asking. His voice is quiet, soothing, and very close to your face. You realize that you guys are facing each other. 

Still, you have to give an answer. “Y-Yeah,” You reply softly. “Goodnight, Jungkook.” 

“Goodnight.” 

You turn onto your back. You try to go to sleep, you really do. But your heart is pounding, and rather than the blood filling your ears, it’s the sound of Jungkook’s breathing. 

“Y/N, you still awake?” Jungkook asks softly. 

You snort. “It’s only been a minute.” 

Jungkook smiles. “Sorry. I just… I have a question. A thought, actually.” 

“What is it?” 

“Well, okay, I don’t want to come off as arrogant or self-centered, but it’s just a question and just this thought that I have…” 

“Jungkook.” You turn back to face him. “You can ask me the question. I don’t mind.” 

“Well, alright.” Jungkook shifts. He’s a little closer now, you can make out the outline of his face. Everything looks slightly more defined now, definitely a result of your eyes adjusting to the darkness. “When you were talking about the guy you had a crush on… you know, when I asked if there was someone you were interested in while we were in college.” 

“Oh, I remember.” Your heart feels fuzzy, even though you have no idea what he’s going to ask you. 

“Okay, um. I guess I just wanted to know. Were you talking about me? 

The world seems to stop tilting on its axis—and all the consequences of that follow along. Everything around you slows to a grind: your heart stops in your chest, and all the air drains out of your lungs. You hold your breath, feeling as if your body has just been dipped underwater. Thousands of thoughts ping through your mind. You feel like that episode of Spongebob where all the file cabinets in your brain are catching aflame. You suddenly feel like you have no thoughts, but too many thoughts at the same time. 

Above all, one question rises above all the rest: how did Jungkook know? 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear your name being called. It isn’t until you feel a hand at your shoulder do you jolt. “H-Huh?” 

“S-Sorry.” Jungkook sounds a lot more nervous now. “You weren’t responding.” 

“I… I was thinking,” You reply lamely. 

A pause. “What’s your answer?” Were you talking about me?

You swallow. Should you tell the truth? Or should you deny everything with the hopes that Jungkook will forget this conversation ever existed? 

The words spill out before you can think of a proper answer. “What if I was?” 

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “Well…” He starts up again, inching forward towards you. Every move he makes is amplified in your ear, every squeak of the mattress and every rustle of clothing echoed in the small space that is your hotel room. “I’d be kinda frustrated, to be honest. Because when I was talking about my own crush, it might have been about you.” 

At Jungkook’s confession, the world seems to come crashing down on you as everything around tries to catch up to you. Immediately, you assume that perhaps you hadn’t heard Jungkook correctly, or maybe you’re completely misinterpreting what he’s trying to say to you. 

In a perfect world, maybe you’d say something witty and smart. Maybe you’d play along until he snapped. Maybe you’d be fluent in courting talk and understand exactly what he’s trying to say to you. 

But this isn’t a perfect world, and you are neither witty nor smart. You most certainly are not aware of flirtations. You need boys to be as straightforward as possible. Which is why you utter the most comprehensible: “What?” 

You feel a warmth at your hip—Jungkook’s hand against your skin. “Ahhhh.” Jungkook starts, not at all sounding fearful but rather casual. Still the underlying case of shyness, however, because this is still Jungkook. “I forgot you sometimes need simple things spelled out for you. Remember when you emailed our Arts History professor three times because you kept forgetting what font she wanted the assignment in?” 

You flush—Arts History was the class you and Jungkook were forced to pair up together for. Maybe you would have protested it more had you known Jungkook would turn out to be a little shit over it. “That was a one time thing! You’ve been bringing it up for as long as I’ve known you!” 

Jungkook giggles, pulling you closer so your face is against his collarbone and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Shh, okay, okay, I’m sorry.” 

Your face is burning at the feeling of your bodies so close together, your fingers pressed against his shirt and your nose against his skin. He smells like floral fabric softener. “Jungkook…?” You whisper softly, breath fanning his neck. 

Jungkook tilts his head to rest gently against your temple. He stays quiet for a moment, absorbing the moment. “If you did have a crush on me in college, it would be frustrating. Because I had a crush on you too.” 

This time it’s straightforward, just like how you’ve always wanted it. Why can’t you seem to reply? 

“Oh.” 

“I know.” 

You curl your fingers around Jungkook’s shirt. “What if…” You start slowly. “What if I said I still had those feelings?” 

Jungkook seems to think about his answer. “I’d say that I do too.” 

You swallow, nodding in a way that allows him to feel the movement. “Okay then.” 

Without a warning, Jungkook moves to curl his whole arm around your frame. This brings you even closer together. He noses your hairline. “Go to sleep,” He whispers softly. “We can talk about this tomorrow.” 

A part of you wants to say no—that holding off on confessions isn’t what happens in novels or tv shows or movies. But the larger part of you knows that you won’t be able to have a proper discussion like this when you are weak, tired, and vulnerable. Your heart stalls at his consideration, allowing yourself to be content just like this: asleep, cuddling with Jeon Jungkook as you’ve imagined since you first developed your crush. 

It’s much better than the fantasy. 

.

You wake up the next morning with Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, his soft breathing against your neck and his lips dusting the skin of your neck. There’s a new kind of comfort you find being held like this, and a part of you wants to melt back into his arms. You think you can pretend to be asleep just to stay here a little longer, but the urgency you have to pee and get the day started becomes too pressing. 

Your previous assumptions of Jungkook being a heavy sleeper are confirmed as you manage to untangle yourself from him without so much as a whine from his end. By the time you finish with the bathroom, Jungkook is just beginning to push himself into a sitting position. 

You linger near the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” You greet, almost nervously. For good reason to—the memory of last night is vague but defined well enough where you aren’t sure what the next course of action should be. It’s not like your college ever offered a course about what to do when your crush admits to liking you back. 

Jungkook looks at you from across the bed. He gives you a small smile, a reassuring one. “Morning,” He says back. “How did you sleep last night?” 

You twist your hands together. “Pretty good, actually. How about you?” 

“Me too.” He adjusts his position so he can crawl over to you. He slides his legs over the side of the bed right next to you. He brings his hands towards you, palms up. Although he’s close enough to reach you, he doesn’t. Instead, he asks: “Can I?” 

You don’t say anything, you merely rest your hand in his. He tugs you towards him, stopping only when you’re standing between his legs. He still keeps his fingers curled around yours, turning your hand up to play with your fingers. 

He looks up at you, a soft smile across his lips. “Hi.” 

You smile back. “Hi.” 

He laces your fingers together, resting them between your bodies. “I guess now for the bigger question… how are you feeling?” 

You look down at your hands, deciding you like the way his larger hands cover yours. “H-How did you know I was talking about you?” You ask instead, looking over at him. 

Jungkook shifts his gaze away for a moment. “I don’t know,” He admits earnestly. “You were just looking at me back at the flower field and I had a feeling. And I really think a part of me was hoping you were talking about me.” 

Unable to help yourself, you feel the side of your mouth quirk up into a small smile. “What would you have done if I wasn’t talking about you?” 

He exhales in a laugh. “Honestly, I might have just driven out in the middle of the night and gone over a bridge or something.” 

You laugh, trying to diffuse your smile by pressing your lips but it only works so well. “I was really surprised to hear you liked me back.” 

“Of course!” He exclaims, looking momentarily shocked that you would feel this way. “I wasn’t messing around when I said you were smart, funny, and easy to talk to. That’s what made me really like you when we first met. Whenever we talked you just felt so real and approachable—like I could just be myself around you. And even now, seeing you after graduating and realizing you’re still all of those things. It just makes me like you more.” 

You feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You’ve never thought of yourself in the way Jungkook is describing you—you always just assumed that you were in the background, that you’d never be enough. 

Jungkook is looking at you, his eyes big and wide and full of truth. “Is that weird?” He asks. 

You shake your head immediately. “No, no it’s not weird at all.” You shrug a shoulder, giving him a meek smile. “It’s really sweet, actually.” 

Jungkook grins at that, heaving out a breath as a sign of his lowered defenses. “I think you’re sweet too.” 

You groan at that, throwing your head back as Jungkook breaks into a series of giggles. “You’re corny.” 

“You’re not complaining,” He points out. This is true. 

You shrug. “I guess that means I’m expecting us to catch up on three years of terrible flirting.” 

The smile slides off his face. “You’re right.” He brings your joined hands closer together until your whole body is standing closer to his. “Can I ask to kiss you?” 

The four letter K word makes your heart stutter in your chest once more. Your hands are so close to his chest that you can feel his own heart beating, and the thought of Jungkook being equally nervous for this gives you enough confidence to return his question. “Why don’t you ask and find out?” 

He smiles, a bunny smile that crinkles his eyes. “Touche. Can I kiss you?” 

You smile back. “Yes…” You whisper, leaning down just enough for Jungkook to crane his neck up in order to meet each other halfway. It’s just a closed-mouth kiss, a soft weight against your lips.

It’s one that Jungkook pulls away from before you can really enjoy it, really ponder asking for more. “Sorry,” He says immediately, pointing to his mouth. “Morning breath.” 

The pair of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into laughter. That tense atmosphere is gone, replaced inside with that previously casual and comfortable air—as you step away from Jungkook and let him get his morning started. Except this time, the air is filled with open lingering stares, shy smiles, and Jungkook taking your suitcase wordlessly as you exit your hotel room. 

By the time you load into your car, it’s nearing noon and the gas tank in Jungkook’s car is almost empty. The pair of you agree in another champion’s breakfast—gas station food. 

“I swear, we’re both going to have terrible breakout tomorrow during the wedding,” You point out. Despite your words, you still tear into your Nacho Cheese Doritos with the aggression of a gorilla. “I’m going to photograph horribly. Irene will be so embarrassed.” 

“You photograph horribly? Inconceivable!” He says the word just as it is said in The Princess Bride, which makes you burst into another fit of laughter. 

The afternoon pans out the same way it has for the past two days. Jungkook drives onto the freeway, you decide the music, and the conversations fade in and out. Neither of you talk about the events of the previous night or of what happened in the morning—but the way Jungkook reaches out to laces your fingers together is more than enough. 

The town Jungkook has selected to stop for the evening is a five hour drive from the wedding venue—and it’s an actual city space this time, with restaurants and grocery stores and apartments. As soon as Jungkook tells you this information, you are bursting with excitement. It’s been two days since the pair of you actually stopped and lingered in a city environment and you miss it. 

It takes another whole day of driving to reach the city destination, as the first alert you get is the increasing number of cars that have joined you on the freeway. These more busy freeways guide you into the city, where you are greeted with the first sight of buildings, sidewalks, restaurants, and parking lots in days. 

Even though most of these landmarks are simple flashes that you and Jungkook pass through on the way to the hotel he has selected, you keep your eyes glued out of the window in order to take in as much of the surrounding area as you can. You continue to watch as the immediate high rises become more sporadic and spread out, until he’s finally pulling into the hotel. The sun is just setting behind the many buildings along the horizon. Lots of other cars are parked in the parking lot. You can hear other cars, buses, and trunks driving around the background—and you feel strangely comforted by this discovery. 

“Are you okay with sharing another bed today?” Jungkook asks as he guides the pair of you into the lobby. “I may or may not have called to make a reservation earlier when you were in the bathroom.” 

You laugh, feeling giddy at the thought of Jungkook taking the initiative to continue progressing your now slow-growing relationship. “Was that all they had left?” You ask teasingly as you make your way to the counter. 

Jungkook smiles down at you. “Perhaps I didn’t ask…” 

Your lips part. “Jungkook!” 

“What?” He’s laughing now. “I think I’m gonna bow out of any excuse to cuddle with you now that you’ve given me a taste of what that’s like?” 

You’re gasping in the midst of your laughter. “You’re terrible,” You manage. 

So Jungkook checks in—true to his word, he has reserved a single full-sized bed for the room. 

“Hey, so, I was thinking,” He starts as he’s following the map provided to him by the employee with directions about getting to his appropriate room. This hotel is slightly bigger than the off-the-road ones you and Jungkook pulled into, so it takes a little longer to find the room. After a few minutes of turning the map over, you two eventually find the room. 

“What’s up?” You ask as you push open the door and roll your suitcase into the space, with Jungkook following closely behind you. 

“Come here,” Jungkook requests gently, watching as you let go of your suitcase and make your way towards him. You move into his space easily, allowing him to hold you by the waist. “Since we’ve both admitted to missing out on three years of courting, flirting, and dating—I think we should go out to an actual restaurant to have an actual date.” 

You lean back slightly and give him a slightly shocked look. “Really?” 

“Yes!” He says. “Besides, someone has to put their foot down and say that eating only McDonalds and gas station hot dogs is not the right way to go.”

You laugh at that. “True, but we were having so much fun!” 

“Nope!” He exclaims, shaking his head. “The foot is going down, we’re going to an actual restaurant for dinner. Get changed, take a shower, whatever you need to do to freshen up.” There’s a finality in his words as he finally steps away from you, the smile of sweetness still on his lips. 

The restaurant Jungkook picks after scrolling through Yelp and other lists of recommendations is a corner Italian place that apparently serves the best Linguini and clams—a dish that you really enjoy. So you put something together much more presentable than your usual round of sweatpants and baggy t-shirts—replacing the sweatpants with black jeans and giving yourself a cream colored cropped sweater. It makes Jungkook’s eyes widen all the same. He’s clad in his usual black jeans and oversized coat that is perfect for the spring breeze. 

Since the restaurant is within walking distance of the hotel, you and Jungkook agree to chill off on the driving just enough to stretch your legs and actually have a walk for once—all while celebrating the final night of the road trip. 

“I was a little worried about this at first, to be honest with you,” You admit softly to Jungkook, long after the pair of you have been seated in a corner booth and have ordered your food. You’re circling the pasta noodles around your fork, and Jungkook is watching with a touch of amusement and adoration in his eyes. 

“Not gonna lie, so was I,” Jungkook returns back with an equally meek smile. 

You gape at him. “You invited me though!” 

“I did!” Jungkook exclaims with a laugh, looking down at his own order of food. “Me inviting you was honestly a spur of the moment thing. Me catching up to you, however, was me trying to be brave.” 

“You seemed pretty brave throughout most the trip,” You point out 

Jungkook shakes his head, situating his arms in a cross motion. “Nah dude that was just all a very well thought out facade. A part of me was expecting it to go terribly so I could at least walk away knowing that I built you up in my mind and the fantasy of that was better than the reality.” He must see the look of uncertainty casting a shadow over your mind because he immediately cuts back in. “Just so you know, the reality is much better than anything I could have conjured up.” 

You lower your chin slightly, staring over at Jungkook. You bring one shoulder up into a half-hearted shrug, maybe to showcase a certain level of carelessness. “What were you conjuring up then?” 

“Oh, I don’t know if you want to go there right now,” He rebuffs, looking a little red in the cheeks. “I think we should start slow. Refer to the PG thoughts, if you will.” 

You laugh, focusing your gaze momentarily on the last of your pasta. You had sorted through the clams, since they weren’t your favorite things to eat. “Jungkook, are you admitting to me that you have thoughts above PG?” 

“Oh shit, that wasn’t my intention!” 

You giggle. “I’m messing with you, Jungkook!” 

He pouts. “Don’t do that.” He rests his hand on the table, palm up, inviting for you to take it. “I just want to spend today with you, and take it slow—I just want to hold your hand and kiss you and lay with you and just be with you in the way I couldn’t be with you in college. Is that too weird?” 

You look down, pressing your lips together, trying not to squeal and definitely not trying to throw yourself off the chair. You look back over at him and squeeze his hand. “That’s not too weird at all. That’s actually really sweet. Honestly, those are things I probably would have asked for regardless. I don’t really know the rules of dating—I never really went out that often.” 

Jungkook smiles sweetly back at you, he brings your hands up to kiss the back. “I’ll give you a few pointers then, let’s get going.” 

After the check is paid for—it ends up being a split between the two, it’s the best compromise you can come up with considering he wants to take you out but you want to pay him back for driving this far—the pair of you emerge back into the city space. Jungkook’s hand is still wrapped around yours, using that connection point to pull you close to him. 

“Now this move,” Jungkook explains, beginning to lead you both back to your hotel room. “Is when the gentleman walks the lady home, because their date went by smoothly and he wants to see her for as long as possible.” 

You laugh. “I’m enjoying this so far.” 

The pair of you continue down the sidewalk, using the time it’ll take to walk back to the hotel to walk off the food in your stomach. You resume your conversation, giggling and laughing all the same until you’re walking through the lobby of the hotel and slowly making your way to your hotel room. 

Right before you step inside, Jungkook stops you. “Normally, the front door is where the gentleman drops the lady off, and they talk about how well the date went.” 

“Oh, well, in that case, this was so nice, Jungkook,” You remark, beaming at Jungkook’s own smile. “I’m glad you convinced me to eat real food for once.” 

“You’re welcome—I had fun too.” Jungkook slides closer to you. You, completely hypnotized by his next movements, watch as he cups your face with his hand to angle you upwards. “This is the part where we have a first kiss, because the stars are lined up for this. And because I really want to.” 

You smile, curling one of your hands around the wrist near your face. “Seeing as we’ve already had our first kiss, how about a second one?” 

Jungkook smiles back, eyes lidded towards your mouth. “I guess that’ll work.” His lesson on dating, it seems, is done, as he leans in to kiss you. You suck in a breath as he covers your lips with his. It’s deeper than the first time he kissed you—which had been more of a peck with a side of morning breath. But now you’re both awake, tasting like wine, and drunk off each other. It’s a more real kiss. 

You whimper as Jungkook’s tongue runs over your bottom lip, before slipping into your mouth. It’s a sensation you can get completely lost in, until Jungkook pulls away. 

Under the hallway light, you can make out his flushed cheeks, his wet lips, his dark gaze. 

Immediately, Jungkook is pulling you to his side before he starts digging through the pockets of his jeans. “Alright, we’re going inside right now.” 

You lean into his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to invite you inside, Jeon? What happened to giving me pointers on first dates?” 

“Screw that,” He retorts, practically shoving the hotel door open. He turns around to face you. “Now, this is our hotel room. And I want to kiss you in private.” 

Your laughter is drowned out as Jungkook tugs you by the wrist into the room. 

.

Under different circumstances, waking up next to each other after a first date would hit you with a wave of anxiety and maybe even a vague sense of embarrassment at letting someone you like see you in such a vulnerable position. 

Right now, however, under the morning sunlight within the covers of your shared hotel bed, you just feel happy and content. You wake up on your side, with an arm resting over Jungkook’s chest and his fingers curling around your own. There is an immediate feeling of giddiness that overtakes you, because it’s hard for you to believe that this is happening. Someone you’ve liked and continue to like actually returning your feelings? That has always been such a foreign concept to you. 

You don’t know how long you continue laying in bed until Jungkook starts shifting next to you, signalling his wake. You watch as his eyes slowly peel open, laced with grogginess but still looking unfairly attractive that there are butterflies in your stomach. 

Jungkook lets out a sigh, as he looks down at you. A tired smile takes over his expression. “Morning.” 

“Good morning,” You reply back, voice soft and a little shy. “Happy wedding day.” 

That is true. Today is Irene’s wedding—an event you and Jungkook will arrive at in nearly five hours. There’s a strange sort of knot that is beginning to twist itself in your stomach, a knowledge that something good is coming to a close but a fear in the unknown as to what this would mean regarding your relationship with Jungkook. Neither of you have laid down groundwork for your relationship—if this even is a relationship to begin with. You may be inexperienced with this kind of stuff, but you’re sure that one date and making out on a hotel bed doesn’t immediately constitute an exclusive relationship. 

If Jungkook notices the tension in your form, he doesn’t say anything. He kisses your temple and grumbles something about wanting to get the day started. He mentions something about not having to worry about getting dressed for the wedding straightaway—that he has reserved a room at the hotel some of the guests of the wedding would be staying at, which is where you will be getting ready before the event. You nod, hearing pieces of his words, but a lot of it gets lost in your own thoughts. 

Is it okay to ask questions about where you stand with Jungkook? Is it foolish of you to even bother wondering? You’ve seen movies and have had conversations with friends about guys who dismissed questions like that as ‘moving too fast’. You don’t want to scare Jungkook off, but you also need to know that you’re not wasting your time.

You remain in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you sigh and try to organize through your thoughts. You also try to break down how the past three days have been. 

However, trying to do so proves to be a difficult challenge, as Jungkook’s phone starts buzzing excessively on his side of the nightstand—it seems like he is getting a series of text messages from someone. 

You know you shouldn’t be looking or prying, but the constant binging of alerts only eats at your nerves more. You turn in the bed towards Jungkook’s side, picking up the device to search for the silence switch along the sides. The screen, however, lights up and you immediately see a name you have not seen or heard since college. 

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts 

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think 

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :) 

You freeze, feeling your body overload with information and questions come flooding into your mind. At first, you think you reread the message wrong. You think that maybe Jennie is texting the wrong person. But after the third or fourth time, you realize that this isn’t a dream. That Jungkook already has a plus one to the wedding, and it isn’t you. 

More than that, it’s Jennie. 

Jennie is also someone you went to college with, and someone that you only heard of between the grape vines and therefore is someone that is only vaguely recognizable. But you definitely know her. Jennie had been one of Irene’s friends, president of her sorority—and labeled some of the nicest people on campus. Even just from rumors and the one time you ran into her around the school, you can see it. Jennie is nice, beautiful, friendly, and outgoing. All the things you are not. 

And now, she’s Jungkook’s plus one to the wedding. And Jungkook did not tell you. 

Your lips part as your head starts to spin. Why didn’t Jungkook tell you he already had a plus one to Irene’s wedding? Maybe he did not owe you the explanation, and maybe you should never have assumed he’d be your plus one to the wedding. 

The thought of you assuming Jungkook would be your date to the wedding fills you with a vague mortification—why did you have to go ahead and assume? 

Your mind starts to spiral as you fall into the depths of overthinking. Now you were set to attend a wedding alone, with no plus one, and surrounded by people you don’t know. All while watching Jungkook sit with Jennie, eat with Jennie, and dance with Jennie. 

Holy fuck, holy fuck, what were you going to do? You can’t go to this wedding alone. You can’t confront Jungkook about this—you’re not even supposed to be touching his phone or looking through his phone. He would definitely be upset. How could he not be? 

At once, the tears collect in your eyes. How could this be happening? Seconds ago, you had been so content and happy, excited to attend this wedding with Jungkook. Seconds ago, you had been confident about your feelings, and Jungkook’s feelings in return. From all the kisses he showered you in, the date, the talking, the confessing—how could you not feel that way? 

Had Jungkook just been pulling your leg? After all, he did have three years to talk to you, to go out with you. Why hadn’t he said something sooner? Is he here right now: talking to you and laughing with you because he hadn’t found anyone and knows that you would do anything for him? 

In the background, you can vaguely make out the shower in the bathroom turn off, signalling Jungkook’s near completion with the bathroom. At once, it feels like you’re in a car that has enforced sudden breaks and has sent you flying against the dashboard—like you can’t breathe. 

Hastily, you rest Jungkook’s phone back on the nightstand and roll back over to your side of the bed. You blink quickly, trying to rid of the tears that have collected in your eyes while also trying to calm the lump in the back of your throat. 

Just as you’re starting to get a handle back on your feelings, the bathroom door opens and you can vaguely make out Jungkook’s humming as he exits. The fact that he sounds so carefree while you’re hurting only a handful of feet away almost makes the tears come back in. But you’ve learned how to hide your emotions well. 

Jungkook’s soft laugh brings you out of your thoughts. “Still in bed?” He asks jokingly, sitting on the edge and placing a hand on your ankle. You try not to stiffen at the gesture. “You know, even though we’re getting dressed at a different hotel, we still need to get going.” 

You take in a breath. “I’m comfortable here,” You exclaim, sitting up and facing Jungkook. He’s looking as wide-eyed, easy-going, and comfortable as always. You’re not sure how long you can keep up the facade of being okay. “I was just waiting for you, that’s all.” 

You don’t wait for him to reply as you slide off the bed, grab your clothes from your suitcase, and lock yourself in the bathroom. You ignore the lump in your throat as you brush your teeth, as you get your day started. Finally, you look up at your own reflection in the mirror. Unlike previous times, when there had been a glimmer to your gaze—you don’t know you recognize the now disheartened individual before you. 

You exit the bathroom and immediately turn to pack up your suitcase once more, ignoring Jungkook in the process. The boy is on his phone, typing something—probably a text message. Maybe he’s responding to Jennie, confirming their date for tonight, as he remains completely oblivious to your feelings. 

The thought brings the tears back to your eyes. 

“Ready to go?” Jungkook asks, all smiles and soft eyes as he slides off the bed to face you. 

You don’t look at him as you shoulder your carry-on bag and straighten into a standing position. “Yeah.” You don’t mean for the tone to come out dry and unresponsive, but you’re too focused on trying to get the tears out of your throat. 

You miss the way the smile slowly slips off Jungkook’s face as he watches you move towards the door. 

Jungkook moves towards you, reaching forward to take your suitcase from you just as he’s done for the past few days. 

You, however, brush him off. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” You pull open the door and make your way down the hallway without looking back to see if he’s following closer behind you. You don’t need his help, you don’t need his pity. You don’t need him to do these things, to lead you on—especially if he was going to end up with some other girl at then end of the day. 

You stay quiet as you make your way to Jungkook’s car. Jungkook steals the occasional glance in your direction, seeming to finally realize that something is wrong. 

He, however, doesn’t say anything until you’re back on the freeway—on the five hour drive towards the wedding venue. “Everything okay?” 

You’re playing with your hair, but you stop long enough to spare him a short glance. You’re not even looking at his face, you’re looking at the chair he’s seated on. “What do you mean?” 

Jungkook clears his throat. “You’ve been really quiet since I got out of the bathroom. You…” He gestures to the center console. “You’re not even playing any music.” He tries for a smile. “I’d really like to listen to your ‘everything’ playlist.” 

“Sorry, I’m not really in a music-listening mood right now,” You whisper, realizing that you should probably cover up your ass a little better than you are currently. “S-Sorry, I think it was something at the restaurant yesterday. I’m not feeling super hot right now.” 

“Oh no, do we need to stop by a pharmacy or something? I can run in and get some stomach machine or whatever—!” 

“Jungkook, it’s fine.” 

Maybe it’s the finality of your tone, or the sharper edge in your voice, but Jungkook quiets down again. One glance in his direction shows you the furrow of his eyebrows, the set of his jawline—he looks hurt and confused. And that kills you inside. 

A small part of you wants you just lay all your cards on the table—to admit your side of the story and let him know about the texts and the hurt feeling still eating itself at your heart. 

But another part of you, the bigger part of you, doesn’t want to give Jungkook that power. You don’t want to be the one to crack first, to be the one who gets hurt first. So you refuse to say anything, settling deeper and deeper into the seat of Jungkook’s car. Contrary to your initial thoughts, he doesn’t plug in his own phone to play his own music. He simply allows the pair of you to bathe in silence. 

Without the music to distract you, without Jungkook trying to make conversation, it forces your mind to linger on the events of the early morning. Maybe Jungkook didn’t tell you because it was obvious to him that the pair of you would never have been a plus one to the wedding in general. He’s probably hurt because Jungkook can’t get his way with you. 

The realization that he doesn’t even have the consideration to warn you ahead of time that an invitation for a ride doesn’t equate to an invitation to be a plus one brings the tears back to your eyes. Did you not even deserve a warning? Why would Jungkook let you kiss him, let you fall in love with him—only to turn his back on you like this? 

You have to keep your eyes glued to the window of the passenger’s side of the car, just to make sure Jungkook won’t see the tears. You can just imagine that he’ll ask, and the conversation will steer the pair of you into an even more awkward space. 

It’s a very agonizing five hours. Not having that time to recover from the shock of those texts is becoming increasingly more difficult for you to handle. 

There are a few times that your tears overwhelm your whole system, where you have to sniff to get a handle on your body’s response to the emotions going through your body—which you’re sure Jungkook can hear. After all, there’s no music playing and there is a silence that is threatening to swallow you whole. 

Jungkook, however, does not say anything in response to your very obvious sniffle. He merely tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and keeps his mouth shut. You wonder if he’s waiting for you to talk first, to explain what’s going on with you. 

The sky is bleeding orange by the time Jungkook pulls into the new hotel, the final hotel. There is still two hours until the wedding is set to start, but every nerve in your body is screaming for you to leave and go back home. Every nerve in your body is telling you that you don’t belong here anymore. 

“Okay, I let you have your peace for the whole drive over,” Jungkook starts off, voice tight, fixing the car into park. “But I’m asking you this right now. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t seem fine… and I’m worried about you…” He reaches across the car to land a hand on your shoulder. It’s a completely normal gesture, especially between you and Jungkook, but you cannot handle it. 

You jerk away. “I’m fine,” You snap out, actually fixing your gaze on him this time. Jungkook recoils, immediately retracting his arm from you, looking like you just burned him. You tear your gaze away from him. You’re not strong enough to see him hurt because of you. “Why do you care anyways?” 

Jungkook exhales in disbelief, turning towards the steering wheel of the car and running a hand through his hair. “What are you talking about? Is this about last night? Did I… say something to scare you off?” 

“This isn’t about what you said, this is about what you didn’t say and what you’re not telling me!” 

Jungkook looks like you just grew a second head. “What are you talking about?” 

You whirl back to face him. “Oh, so the fact that you and Miss. Jennie were already set to go to this fucking wedding together and you didn’t even think to give me a heads up and tell me?” 

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. “What? How did you know about that?” 

You laugh, but it’s a hollow noise that only makes that lump come back to your throat. “Nevermind,” You bite out. This time, you don’t stop the tears from resurfacing as you give Jungkook a full look this time. His demeanor changes from frozen to pained at the sight. “I hope you guys are very happy together.” 

You don’t say another word as you fumble with the latch of the door before pushing it open with more strength than necessary. You can vaguely hear Jungkook struggling with his own seat belt, but you don’t care. You slam the car door shut and storm away. You don’t know where you’re going—maybe around the corner to scream, or to call a taxi that’ll take you to the airport. You don’t care about the wedding. You don’t think you could face the embarrassment in facing Jungkook or Jennie or Irene right now. 

“Shit, Y/N! Y/N!” Jungkook is calling for you now, his footsteps loud against the asphalt. 

Everything feels like you’re going through water, which is probably why Jungkook is able to reach you as quickly as he does. He catches you by the wrist. 

“Y/N—please, will you stop and just listen to me?” 

“No! Jungkook, let me go.” You start trying to tug your wrist, trying to pull yourself away from him. “Let me go! I’m leaving! I don’t want to see you anymore!” You’re gasping, the tears blurring your vision and making you feel powerless. 

Without a warning, Jungkook pulls you in his arms. Wrapping his arms around you, he traps you in his embrace. And you are miserable. 

“Stop it!” You gasp, trying to push him away. You’re heaving—crying and trying to escape from someone as strong as Jungkook is definitely a workout for your body. “Jungkook, leave me alone. This is all my fault.” 

He pauses. “What do you mean?” 

You stop struggling, allowing Jungkook to hold you as you pull back enough to look away from his face. You wipe at the tears on your face. “It’s my fault anyways. I said I liked you and you said you liked me too, but maybe that wasn’t enough for you. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we’re exclusive. I should have asked up front, so I wouldn’t get hurt in the long run.” 

“You don’t need to get hurt though,” Jungkook whispers kindly, his voice overcoming the blood in your ears, as well as your own yelling. You quiet down at that, except for your own lungs contracting to catch more air. This leaves you a hiccuping mess. He waits until he knows you’re not going to say anything next. “You’re right, okay? Jennie and I were supposed to be each other’s dates.” 

You’re still trying to catch your breath. 

Jungkook rests a hand on top of your head, curling his fingers through the strands of your hair soothingly. “Are you okay?” 

You hiccup. “Why are you telling me this? I just told you that I’m hurt right now…” 

“Shhh.” Jungkook pulls back and cups your face in his hands so you can look at him. “You aren’t listening to me. I said we were supposed to be each other’s dates. We’re not anymore.” 

You blink, allowing the tears that were already filling your eyes to fall down your cheeks. Jungkook wipes them gently with his thumb. “What?” 

Jungkook’s gaze flickers between your eyes. “Jennie and I are friends, so we’d figure it would be fun to just go together and have a person to sit with, eat with, and dance with. As friends.” 

“W-What happened then?” You ask, a watery color in your voice. 

Jungkook gives you a gentle smile, the kind of gesture that tells you that you should know the answer already. “You happened, silly.” He keeps his eyes on yours. “I saw you at the party with Jimin and invited you to come with me. I assumed when I asked that we’d be each other’s plus ones. I forgot to tell Jennie though when I asked you out.” He tilts his head at you. “You saw the texts on my phone, didn’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry.” You hiccup again. “Your phone kept going off this morning and I was just trying to put it on silent. I-I didn’t mean to look through your messages…” 

“Shh, baby, you’re good, you’re okay.” Jungkook interrupts gently, wrapping his arms tighter around you and swaying the pair of you back and forth. The usage of the nickname fills you with a new feeling, a warmer feeling. It helps calm you down. 

Your breathing eventually evens out, bringing you back to reality and to the realization that you and Jungkook are hugging in the middle of a hotel parking lot. 

Jungkook loosens his grip on you, letting you step back. He watches you for a moment. “Here,” He says, digging through his pocket and pulling out his phone. “I think you should see this.” He clicks through a few of his apps, until he seems to find what he’s looking for because he hands the phone to you. You look over at him, confusion flooding through your features. Jungkook gives you a reassuring nod. “It’s okay.” 

Still hesitant, you take the phone and look at the messages across the screen. It’s the texts from this morning. 

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts 

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think 

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :) 

Jungkook (10:20AM): hey Jennie !! oh shit i totally forgot to let u know but i actually found a plus one :( i’m soooo sorry i should have told you earlier omg i feel terrible 

Jennie (10:20AM): no worries jungkook !! who is it omg do I know them? 

Jungkook (10:20AM): it’s actually Y/N? We all went to college together… 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH!!!! wait isn’t she the one Irene was working with a lot for senior projects? 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO

Jennie (10:21AM): OKAY JUNGKOOK I SEE U 

Jennie (10:21AM): she’s THE Y/N right???? the one u were in love with for our entire college career?? 

Jungkook (10:22AM): …… maybe? 

Jennie (10:22AM): WOWOWOWOW good for u Jungkook !!! glad to see u finally having the balls to ask her out !! 

Jungkook (10:22AM): OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH 

Jungkook (10:23AM): I actually felt BAD for leaving you by yourself BUT NOT ANYMORE 

Jennie (10:23AM): LMAO Jungkook I’m friends with Irene’s entire bridesmaid row i’ll be fine 

Jennie (10:23AM): just go get ur dick wet!!!!!! 

Jungkook (10:23AM): istg i will leave you on read 

Jungkook (10:23AM): also that is NOT the point!!!!!! Just wanna love my new girl :( 

Jennie (10:24AM): You’re gross 

Jennie (10:24AM): but sounds good see you tonight! 

You look up from Jungkook’s phone to see him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction, pleading for you to forgive him. 

The only thought that can be translated into a coherent sentence comes out: “You were in love with me during college?” 

Jungkook exhales in a laugh, his arms finding your waist once again. “I think ‘in love with’ was a bit of a stretch back then. I think you could agree that we didn’t know each other well enough before for me to say that.” 

You’re still looking at him. “Back then…?” You echo. 

He nods. “Back then.” He brings you closer, one hand moving up to gently brush at the skin of your cheek. “But it’s different now. Now, I can say with absolute certainty that I’m in love with you.” 

Your lips part. “You’re in love with me?” The tears spring back into your eyes, but for a different reason entirely. The emotional rollercoaster you have just been on is unbelievable. 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of your tears. “Oh shit, I’m sorry! Is that too fast? I’m sorry, I should have given you a warning or something. Or more time at least. Oh no, please don’t cry…” 

You brush him off with a watery laugh, waving his concern away. “It’s okay Jungkook. This is fine, really.” You give him a smile. “I love you too. I really thought you were pulling my leg or something.” 

Jungkook gives you his own small smile. “I’m sorry. I should have brought this up sooner about us being each other’s plus ones. Just because I assume something doesn’t mean it’s an established thing.” He brings you closer, his smile turning into a grin. “You love me too, huh?” 

You giggle. You’re too strung out to come up with something witty or clever. “Yeah…” 

Jungkook is still smiling, his gaze switching between your lips and your eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” 

You nod. “About time.” 

He kisses you again, softly and sweetly, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips but it’s gentle caresses that make your heart feel like it’s crawling up your throat. 

“OH MY GOD GET A ROOM!” A voice calls from the other side of the parking lot, forcing you and Jungkook to pull away. The pair of you look at each other and you start to laugh. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead, sweeping down to your ear. “How about we check into our room and get ready?” 

You giggle, nodding over at him. “That sounds good.” 

So Jungkook leads the way, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you gather your suitcases from the car and enter the lobby. You check in easily, as Jungkook is provided a map with directions on how to reach the room. 

The pair of you don’t pull away once until Jungkook is sliding the key card into the door and pushing it open to reveal the bedroom you’ll be sharing for the night. 

Both you and Jungkook park your suitcases near the foot of the bed, as per usual. 

“Do you want to use the bathroom?” Jungkook offers. 

You nod, smiling softly. “Okay.” 

You gather the dress you’ve brought in your arms, about to enter the bathroom, before Jungkook’s voice stops you. “Hey,” He calls, approaching you and wrapping you in his arms again. He’s much more handsey this time, like he needs to make sure you’re not going to run away again, like you’re going to be okay. “You feel better now?” His thumb brushes your lips. “Your eyes are still a little red.” 

You nod. “The makeup will probably help that,” You reassure in a soft voice. 

Jungkook mirrors your movements. “Still, how about I get some ice for you so you can put something cold underneath your eyes… to stop the puffing.” 

He looks genuinely concerned and worried for your wellbeing that you can’t help but smile. Since he is insisting, you decide to just let him be. “Okay, Jungkook.” 

He smiles. “Okay! You start getting ready and I’ll get the ice, okay?” A quick kiss on your cheek before he’s bounding out of the door with the provided ice buckets. 

Your eyes linger on the door for a few minutes before you’re turning back to your suitcase. The dress you have picked is a pink flowing floor-length number—something Karly helped you pick out before leaving. It’s soft enough that it doesn’t leave crease marks along the fabric, which had made this outfit perfect for the trip. You take the dress and your bag of makeup before entering the bathroom. You’re just slipping on the dress when you hear the hotel room door open and close. 

“Okay, I got the ice!” Jungkook announces through the bathroom door. “Did you want to work on your eyes right now?” 

“Sure,” You call back. “Do you mind zipping me up first?” 

“Of course,” Jungkook returns, sounding distracting as you open the door to the bathroom. You peek your head through, noticing Jungkook opening his suitcase on the floor and sorting through it—probably for his own suit. 

He must hear the door open, because he looks up towards you. Immediately, his eyes widen as he straightens up into a standing position. “O-Oh wow…” He’s looking you over up and down, up and down, as if he needs to commit this to memory. “Y-You look great. Beautiful.” 

“Really?” You stammer back. “Thank you.” 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as he approaches you. “You needed me to zip you up?” 

“O-Oh right, yeah.” Hastily, you turn around, brushing the hair from your back to expose your undone zipper, and your bare back. 

You think that he purposely grazes the tips of his fingers against your skin in his process of bringing the zipper up to the top of the fabric. You’re about to turn, thank him, but his hands back at your waist do the gesture for you. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You look really pretty.” 

You pout. “You’re being too nice to me.” 

Jungkook whines, hugging you close to him. “You’re too cute.” He noses at your temple. “I just wanted to see you smile.” He pulls away after a moment. “Let’s take care of your face, yeah?” He turns around and returns with a small baggy full of ice. “Here, sit down for a second.” He leaves for a second, returning back with a towel. “Maybe… five minutes each eye. I don’t know. I’ll get ready while we’re waiting.” 

So he takes his suit out from his case and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with a towel of ice pressed against your eye. The cooling sensation definitely helps with the puffiness. 

Jungkook appears from the bathroom a few minutes later—dressed in a black suit with a white button-down and a long skinny black tie. His hair has been fiddled with a little, but he still has that messy, boyish, lovable appearance that makes your heart race. 

“Did you switch the towel?” 

You nod. 

“How do you feel?” 

Slowly, you bring the towel down and rest it on your lap. You look at Jungkook. “How do I look?” 

He leans forward towards you, holding your chin gently between his fingers. “You look better. Did you need to finish getting ready?” 

“Yeah. I just need to touch up my makeup.” 

“Okay, go ahead then.” 

Jungkook takes the towel, and watches as you make your way back to the bathroom. You’re only gone for a few minutes before you’re emerging once more—eyeshadow a little darker, lashes a little closer, and lips slightly pinker, but overall still looking like the same version of the girl he fell in love with. 

The pair of you drive to the wedding venue, a cute brick building with browns, greens, and whites surrounding. Guests already swarm the outside area, some of whom you recognize from college. The sight makes you nervous. 

Jungkook sees this, and he reaches over to grab onto your hand. “You can just stick with me, okay?” He smiles. “I’ll protect you.” 

You roll your eyes, but you are thankful to have Jungkook as your source of comfort and be that person you could run back to. 

He parks and meets you at the front of his car, where you lace fingers and make your way towards the venue. You go through a small round of hellos and ‘nice to finally meet you’ conversations—most notably from Mingyu and Jennie, both of whom light up at the sight of your presence. Contrary to your previous worries, you find that you don’t really need to be so nervous. Mingyu and Jennie are friends of Jungkook’s for a reason—they radiate a relaxing nature that you can tell is what has drawn the three of them to each other. 

They ask about you, your college experience, your current experience, passing easy conversation in the ceremony space right before the start of the wedding. It’s fun to see Jungkook joking around with the friends he grew up with, and even more fun to see how easy you are allowed into that world. 

The actual wedding ceremony is a blur. You vaguely recognize the extremely attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Seokjin at the head of the aisle. You definitely recognize the equally as attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Irene, downed in white lace and looking much more beautiful than you ever remember her. Vows are exchanged, kisses are shared, there’s an applause, and pictures are taken before the guests are ushered into the main entry room—decked out with a bar and a few scattered seating areas. Jungkook whispers to you that guests are put here temporarily, as the ceremony space is being converted into a dining area. 

True to Jungkook’s promise, he lingers by your side most of the night. Although you reassure him that you are fine, you are much more emotionally stable compared to a few hours ago, and that perhaps you are okay catching up with Nayeon—another girl from college, actually someone from the first party you ever attended who defended you when you were receiving unwanted attention—but Jungkook simply tells you that he likes being around you. He likes being able to put his arm around you, likes to rest his hand at your waist, likes people knowing that he has you. 

It’s a few more minutes of conversation, of laughter, of old stories being exchanged between people you haven’t seen for years, when the guests are called back into the newly converted dining area. Instead of rows of chairs lined up, there are round tables filling the space. The long panel of doors once closed along the wall of the room have been opened—exposing a gazebo with a D.J. and a dance floor, all encircled by a string of big bright fairy lights. 

You and Jungkook are situated at the same table as most of the guests you recognize from college. You assume this is purposefully done to give you all a common ground, and it works because conversations spring easily between you all. Even when you’re not talking about your experiences from university, you’re able to transition from topic to topic. You and Jungkook occasionally talk amongst yourselves as you’re eating, but you sit together and laugh together when Irene and Seokjin emerge and listen in during the wedding toasts. 

Finally, Irene and Seokjin make their rounds through the room, stopping at the tables to cheer and laugh and exchange a few words of congratulations and conversation. Following this process, everyone at your table stands on their feet as Irene and Seokjin make their way towards you. There are bright smiles, Irene’s cheerful gasp as she takes in all the guests that have come to join her. She circles your table, hugging every guest, continuing this when she reaches you. 

Irene grins at the sight of you. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!” 

“I know!” You return, pulling away from Irene. “Congratulations. This wedding is beautiful.” 

She beams, absolutely radiating in her white dress and glittering makeup. “Thank you so much for coming! But oh my god, are the rumors true, did you really show up—!” She looks over your shoulder, and grins again. “Jungkook!” She hugs Jungkook. “I should be saying congratulations to the two of you. I was surprised to get the text from Jungkook saying that you guys were coming as each other’s dates. Gave me a whole pain because I had to switch some seats around at the last minute. But anything for my favorite people.” She turns to you and holds onto your arms. “Jungkook has had a crush on you for years, so you’re really doing him a huge favor.” 

“Okay, enough,” Jungkook interrupts, scowling. But there is still that playful look in his eyes. “Did all your friends know about this? Jennie knew something was up too when I texted her.” 

Irene presses her lips together. “Mingyu might have mentioned something.” She presses her hand to Jungkook’s cheek. “Stay safe, you guys. Hope you enjoy the rest of the night.” She moves onto her next guest. 

Jungkook is groaning. “Remind me to never tell Mingyu anything ever again.” He glares at the boy from across the table. “Gonna fling some peanuts at that son of a bitch.” 

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist. “Oh, let him be. It’s Irene’s wedding. You can get him tomorrow.” 

Jungkook pouts, but he does wrap his own arm around your shoulder. “Ah, love my girl—promoting evil behavior after festive events.” He kisses your cheek as your table takes their seats once more. 

The good natured atmosphere continues as you and Jungkook down your food, remaining fully engaged in the conversations happening around the table. After another hour of this, the DJ announces the start of the married couple’s first dance. Irene and Seokjin take to the dance floor and spin around, her white dress flowing around the room like light. Underneath the glow of the fairy lights, it looks like the couple is in an entirely new world. And you are so taken by it. 

Jungkook does not turn to you until the DJ plays a slow song—a first slow song after a series of upbeat dance and pop genres. He jerks his head towards the dance floor. “You want to dance?” 

You take his hand when he offers. “Of course.” He leads you across the room, towards the gazebo, where several other couples have moved to cling to one another. Jungkook pulls you in: one hand on your waist and the other with your own hand. “This is really nice,” You start off. 

Jungkook laughs. “The wedding, or the dance?” 

You smile over at him. “Both. Being able to slow dance with you, however, is marginally better.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a little after that. He seems content just staring at your eyes, taking in the magic of this moment. “Thank you for coming with me,” He starts. “The whole road trip thing. Definitely would not have been as fun if I did all that by myself.” 

“Well, thank you for inviting me,” You return. “Even though we had that big misunderstanding. I had a lot of fun.” 

“Hey.” Jungkook angles his head a little so he can look at you in the eyes. “You know that I would never hurt you, right? You’re too important to me that I wouldn’t even think to pull some stupid shit like that again. You know that I love you too much to do that to you, right?” 

“I do know now,” You say, gazing over at him. “And I love you too.” 

You’re not usually an expressive person. But it’s worth saying those words just to see the grin that overtakes Jungkook’s face. It’s worth even more when he leans forward, kissing you openly in front of all his friends, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, running his tongue over the wound, and into your mouth. It’s worth it to have his fingers dusting sweetly over your skin, coaxing your mouth to open to allow exploration. 

It feels like worlds pass before Jungkook pulls away, giving you that breathless smile dimple and all, before he’s leaning forward to bury his face into your neck. 

“I think the drive home will be fun,” Jungkook mutters softly. 

“Hm?” You hum, eyes closed as he presses tiny kisses along your neck. 

“Most definitely,” Jungkook says, lifting himself just enough so that his lips hover over your ear lobe. “Because I plan on fucking you in every hotel bed for the rest of the trip.” 

You feel your heart race, your cheeks heat. Yes, this was definitely worth it.