#insanely interesting how when im in the city i feel like im just living my life being myself

[cinnaminsvga]

Harana | Jungkook

harana (n.): the act of wooing someone by serenading them

→ summary:

Unwilling to settle down with you after five years of dating, Jeon Jungkook decides to break up to chase after his dreams. In the aftermath, you leave your hometown, desperate to forget your past and relearn what it means to be on your own. Two years later while on your way to work, you pass by a familiar voice singing songs about a girl he had left behind.

{or alternatively: Jungkook still sings the love songs that he wrote for you. He still means them, too.}

→ genre: busker!au, exes to lovers, angst, humor → warnings: jimin is insane and kinda crude (he has some issues going on), jungkook is a pathetic wet bunny but he's trying his best, oc has So Many Problems, so much arguing and yearning, ambiguous ending??? but my god there is hope!! the humanity of it all!! → words: 16.1K → a/n: HOLY SHIT IM BACK (kinda) and happy new year!! yeah ok its march but im relearning how to form coherent sentences so be patient ;w; this is the first installment of my hfoh series that i teased a LONG time ago... i made it a resolution to complete this series by the end of the year before i kms (Keep Myself Safe) so here's to a brand new year :D (oh god @ universe pls be kind)

part of the “heart full of hugot” series

Two days before the incident, your shower nozzle decides to explode.

Okay, you have to admit that statement is a little misleading. Shower nozzles, in all its nonsentience, do not randomly decide to explode no matter how much you try to defend yourself to your landlord. Maybe your grip had been a little too harsh that morning, or maybe hanging 5 pounds of hair products on the handle had been a bit too much for the old sport to handle. Or maybe, just maybe, the universe was warning you about the incident.

Whatever it was, it doesn’t erase the fact that your shower would be out of commission for the next week or so (though your landlord seems adamant about prolonging your suffering as long as possible). Until then, you’re going to have to find some other ways to keep the grease and grime from building on you. Heavens know that you already have a thriving ecosystem living in the back of your couch—you don’t need another one growing under your armpits. 

Lucky for you, you have friends. More importantly, you have friends who have showers. There is one problem though—all your friends live on the other side of the country. 

It’s been two years since you moved to the Big City™️, but you have done little to grow your social network. Call it introversion or depression, either way, you have no more contacts on your phone than you did when you left your hometown. Well, except for one person, if you could even consider him one. Frankly, you didn’t have a choice.

“Welcome to my humble abode, stinky,” Jimin greets you as you enter his house. Your nose is instantly assaulted by the smell of Bath & Body Works® Sweet Pea, reminding you once more why you didn’t consider him a friend. 

“Hey,” you reply gruffly, shucking your ratty shoes near his entrance. Your shoes look incredibly out of place amidst the sea of designer Chelsea boots and a singular pair of thigh-high heels. You take a glance at his living room, already feeling worse about yourself tenfold.

You had met Park Jimin by complete accident, much like how his mother probably felt when she first saw him too. You had never known anyone quite as… interesting as him, to put it lightly. 

When you got your job as a hostess for a luxury bar and restaurant, you figured you wouldn’t make many friends with your coworkers. Everyone was so… pretty, but in the shiny, untouchable sort of way. Almost all of the servers were as gorgeous as the models you’d see in magazines. You hadn’t known that the owners only hired a certain “demographic” of people for their restaurant, and you were equal parts flattered and disgusted that you’d somehow made it (though you suppose your bullshitting skills were all to thank). 

Unsurprisingly, even the bartenders were gorgeous, including one Park Jimin. He did have an aura to him that screamed “I’m a cut above the rest and I know it,” but that could just be the gold chains dripping down his neck. You almost mistook him as one of the patrons who mistakenly made his way behind the bar, and knowing the sort of clientele you’ve had to deal with so far, you wouldn’t have been surprised. It took a couple of weeks before you finally found out who he was (and what his fucking problem was).

Jimin was a part-time bartender with a full-time job as a bitch a self-made entrepreneur. Which is to say, he sold… tasteful photos of himself on the internet. You had nothing against his line of work. In fact, you would go far as to say you didn’t give a shit what he did outside of your shared workspace. But if there’s one thing Jimin is, it’s that he hates being ignored. 

So when you were adamant about not oohing and aahing at everything that makes Park Jimin perfect, he made it his self-appointed mission to befriend you. Or at least that’s what he claims, but given how he treats you lesser than the shit that cakes his cheeks, you have a lot of doubts. Perhaps he’s never made an effort to make a friend, hence his inexperience with being a decent human being. Or perhaps he’s just an asshole, but who is to say? The point is: he’s the only person you knew in this godforsaken city who would likely allow you to use his shower without being awkward about it and that’s that. 

The worst part about being an acquaintance with Park Jimin was that he lived in the richest area of Downtown but he wasn’t old money, that’s for sure. His entire essence screamed overconsumption, and his myriad of little trinkets littered across his apartment confirmed your previous assessment. You wouldn’t be surprised if you opened his freezer and found ten types of ice sorted assorted by color and shape like the extra bitch that he was. 

He made his money through sheer force, and it would have impressed you if he wasn’t, you know. Him.

“Bathroom is over there. I placed a towel and other shower amenities that you can borrow,” he says pointing to a door with a large “FART ZONE: ENTER WITH CAUTION” sign taped to it. You don’t ask.

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You wait patiently for his out-of-pocket comment. 

Like clockwork, Jimin smirks. “Sure thing. I gave you the super heavy-duty stuff. Figured you’d burn a hole through my expensive towels with how stinky you are, with your yeasty cu—”

“Aaaand I’ll be done in a few minutes. Thanks again Jimin,” you interrupt, making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door with as much force as you can muster. You hear something fall as the door shuts, and you vaguely hear Jimin mutter something about his “fart zone” signage. 

You begin to prepare your shower routine, humming lowly as you go about your business. You try to ignore the suffocating scent of ten million diffusers entering your nostrils, wondering for the umpteenth time if Jimin is suffering from long-term olfactory dysfunction. 

“Focus, Y/N. The quicker you shower, the quicker you can get the fuck out of here,” you whisper to yourself. However, in your haste, you knock over Jimin’s towel by accident. When the towel falls, a sheet of sandpaper slips out from underneath it, and you stare bemusedly until it finally hits you.

“YOU ARE SUCH A LITTLE BITCH!” 

From behind the door, you can hear Jimin’s infamous cackle. “Did you find the loofah? I got it just for you, darling!” he shouts back through his laughter, and you just grumble back in response. How on earth no one has strangled him to death, you have no idea.

“Whatever. I’m gonna shower now! Go beat off or whatever the fuck you do in your spare time,” you grouse, stripping as quickly as possible.

When the first droplets of water hit your body, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. You had both anticipated and dreaded going to Jimin’s house, but you desperately needed the shower. So you go through your routine, trying to find some semblance of relaxation throughout the process. However, it seems that Jimin was yearning for a little bit of attention as he chose to recline on the other side of the door and chat your ear off. Peace was never an option, it seems.

“Hey, Y/N! So why haven’t I seen you at work recently?” Jimin hollers from his living room. Despite the wall separating you, his voice manages to retain its volume.

You squirt a large glob of Jimin’s (expensive) conditioner onto your hands. “What do you mean? I go to work every day. You were the one who hasn’t been clocking in.”

You can hear Jimin scoff. “Um, correction! I went to work last Friday, which so happened to be your day off. If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you were avoiding me.”

And right you are, you think. But instead, you say, “Yeah, what a coincidence. I’ll be back to my regular schedule on Monday, though.”

“So that means you didn’t see the Justin Bieber wannabe stationed outside the restaurant then?” Jimin asks, voice miffed. “The guy suddenly sat down by the entrance window and a whole damn crowd started to appear! The absolute nerve of these people—don’t they know Park Jimin was just past the doors?” 

This provokes Jimin to go on his long epic soliloquy, which you’ve learned to drown out over the past two years. He could go on hour-long tirades if he wanted, and any interruption from you would just bounce off his nonfunctioning ears. And so, you allow his voice to fall to the back of your mind, similar to white noise if it wasn’t so grating.

However, this was likely your greatest mistake. If you hadn’t been so exhausted, or if Park Jimin hadn’t been so damn annoying all the time, or if the stars had aligned just right… Maybe you would have been forewarned about the incident. It’s as if the universe was screaming at you to pay attention, but alas… You were standing on the proverbial highway, unbeknownst to the incoming traffic because you had your metaphorical AirPods on.

So there you are, completely showered but none the wiser to your impending doom, naively looking to the future with unsuspecting eyes. Even if you had known of what was to come, would avoiding it even be possible? In hindsight, you suppose not, but you still kick yourself for being so blind. If only you’d steeled your heart, then maybe you wouldn’t have felt like vomiting in front of a crowd of innocent bystanders the very next day.

xxx

Monday comes and your shower still isn’t fixed. Jimin makes the benevolent gesture of allowing you to use his shower in the meantime, though you’ll only partake in his offer as minimally as possible. He does mention that he’ll need at least an hour’s notice, warning you about “accidental voyeurism.” You shudder to think of what sort of horror you might find if you did visit him without warning, and you pray for the continued well-being of your retinas.

On your way to work, you’re too busy watching cute videos of animals to notice the unusual flock of people idling close to your workplace. When you get closer, however, the growing commotion is enough to rip your gaze away from your phone, and the sight of the large crowd makes you stop in your tracks. 

It is 4 pm and the usual line of waiting patrons should not start piling up for another three hours, so this confuses you more than anything. You shuffle closer, squinting at the crowd until you notice that they aren’t lined up at all; instead, they have congregated into a large circle, but you are too far to see what they are surrounding. 

An accident? You worry, wondering if something terrible happened. You tiptoe above the heads of people, subtly moving forward to take a better look. Curse you and your curiosity. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself to see something grotesque or astonishing, but instead…

It’s worse.

Inching closer, you can begin to hear a soft thrumming of a guitar and a gentle singing voice that causes alarm bells to ring in your ears. The warm melody digs up old memories of a time long past: of ballads sung outside your childhood bedroom window, of promises whispered under Spiderman sheets, of tender caresses tucking stray hairs behind your ears… They flood your senses, but all you can feel is dread.

It can’t be who you think it is. You accidentally elbow a guy on your way to get closer, unsteadying his grip on his phone. 

“Hey, watch it! I’m filming a totally not-staged TikTok over here!” He yells, but you can hardly pay attention to him when you feel unnaturally drawn to come closer, still. 

You’re nearly at the front, with just a couple of teenagers standing between you and the (not-so) mysterious street performer. But the distance is enough, and your breath catches. You can see him—

Black hair partially hidden under a bucket hat. Boots bigger than Pangaea and a pair of eyes equally as large. Dark ink snaking down his arms, peeking out from under oversized sleeves. Piercings that could rival Park Jimin on a good day. He isn’t facing you, but you can still see his big doe eyes, gentle sloping nose, and pretty lips stretched into a handsome smile.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. This can’t be happening, you panic. After two whole years of rebuilding and reshaping yourself, relearning how to be yourself and not… not just his girlfriend.

Jeon Jungkook stands before you, busking in front of your workplace of all locations. The universe could not have been any crueler to you.

You—you had been known as nothing more than Jeon Jungkook’s high school sweetheart. Buried memories of snide comments from jealous teen girls fill your mind, reminding you of the time when you were coined a simple side piece to the main attraction. Decor, as they would call you. Nothing more than a girl who happened to snag Jungkook before people realized he was going to turn… hot. A hot guy who could sing. An inevitable chic magnet, as they would call him. 

And now, years later after much therapy and soul searching, your worst nightmare is standing in front of you in the flesh. This is what you will eventually dub the incident. 

At that moment, however, there is little to no time to dwell on naming this ongoing core memory. All you can feel is the adrenaline pumping through your veins, as well as the nausea rising up your throat. You stumble backward, blatantly shoving onlookers away as you struggle to find some air to breathe. In hindsight, you probably should have backed away as subtly as possible, but you hope that your dyed hair might be different enough that Jungkook wouldn’t know it was you if he had glanced your way. 

Even when you stagger towards your work establishment, the walls cannot perfectly muffle his soothing singing. You can’t make out the lyrics to his song too well, but his unmistakable voice is hard to ignore. Working as a hostess, your station is also coincidentally as close to the door as possible for maximum torture. 

This can’t get any worse, you think as your mind races with conflicting emotions. You thought you had moved on, thought you were past the pain and the memories, but seeing Jungkook again, unexpectedly, stirs up a storm of feelings you thought were buried deep. Anger, hurt, betrayal—all rush to the surface, threatening to overwhelm you.

But there is no time to unpack all that baggage right now. Time will continue to march on, and your job is still on the line. How can you have the time to have a mental breakdown when you were still living paycheck to paycheck?

But even as you try to push Jungkook out of your mind, his voice echoes in your ears, his image burned into your memory. It's as if the universe is laughing at your misery, reminding you that despite all your supposed growth, you are still just you. 

Painfully and pathetically you.

As you struggle to pull yourself together, a familiarly loud voice rings outside the edge of your consciousness. “Hey, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here…” Jimin greets you, his usual jovial demeanor halting midway when he sees your panicked expression. He clears his throat, perplexed. “Umm… Are you alright there, girl? You’re looking a little pale.”

You do not even have the mental capacity to wonder why Park Jimin was miraculously early to his shift, nor why he seems genuinely worried for you. Rather, all you can do is wave him off and use what little time you have before the restaurant opens to steel yourself for hours of melodious torture. 

“I’m fine, Park. You should get to work,” you grit out, wiping your sweaty palms on your uniform. Normally, Jimin would have teased you about the obvious wrinkles on your skirt. 

“You’re not the boss of me,” Jimin huffs, always the contrarian. He thinks better of it, however, and softens his tone. “Are you feeling sick or something? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You freeze, perhaps giving yourself away a little. “I’m fine,” you repeat. 

“You know, if you refuse to elaborate, I’m going to have to retract your shower privileges,” Jimin taunts with a smirk. 

You feel a migraine growing by your temple, making you wince. God, why must men be the source of all your problems?

“I’m just… a little annoyed by the busker outside the restaurant,” you eventually admit, trying to be vague. Unfortunately for you, Jimin hates beating around the bush and would never take your crap if he knows something is up.

Unable to withstand the weight of his unimpressed stare, you clarify, “He was someone I used to know, that’s all.” You aren’t going to be any more specific than that, though you imagine Jimin gets the picture. You zip your lips, hoping to whoever is causing you pain that Jimin would somehow let the matter drop and leave you to your misery.

You brace yourself for his onslaught of questioning to come, and… it doesn’t happen. Instead, when you glance at Jimin, he is mysteriously stone faced. You wait for him to speak for what feels like a few minutes, but he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to tease or ridicule you. He simply watches you with a pensive expression. You can barely stop yourself from staring back at him, slack-jawed at his silence. 

Of course, you aren’t just going to question your luck, or what little you have at least. So, you stay silent back and fidget uncomfortably.

Finally, Jimin seems to snap out of his strange reverie. He fixes you with a bizarrely sympathetic grin, patting you affectionately on the back. “I see… Well, if you ever need a drink tonight, head over to the bar for a little sip. I got you covered,” is all he says in response before sashaying away. 

That was so fucking weird. You want to chase after him, perhaps beat the truth out of him. Jimin is nothing but a scheming dick, and you aren’t about to let him roam free with such sensitive information about yourself. Just as you’re about to stomp his ass (perhaps to relieve some of the building tension from your weary soul), your manager pops his head from his office door. 

“Y/N! Make sure you’re logged into the booking system. There’s going to be a party of 20 coming in about an hour,” he reminds you, shooting you an apologetic look. You nod back with a sigh, swiping the booking tablet from the hostess desk and scrolling through the logs. Sure enough, it is going to be a busy night despite being a Monday evening. Perhaps a little busier than usual, in fact.

Whatever. You will use whatever distraction you can get, and perhaps the approaching noise from the restaurant patrons will be enough to drown out the sound of his voice. 

You aren’t religious by any means, but you pray to whatever higher power exists that Jeon Jungkook doesn’t somehow decide to enter the restaurant. Stay outside, you plead. Outside the restaurant and your life, if possible.

Throughout the evening, you do your best to push aside the memories that threaten to resurface. You greet customers with a smile, lead them to their tables, and ensure their dining experience is pleasant despite the anxiety poisoning your insides. It's a routine you've perfected over time, a shield against the chaos of your emotions.

As the night wears on, you can feel Jimin's eyes on you from across the restaurant. You sneak glances back at him, and you blanch at his pitying gaze. If the restaurant had been slightly less crowded, you would have flipped him off. 

He’s probably enjoying my suffering, you think darkly. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction, you straighten up and do your best to appear more unaffected. Just as you do so, you can hear Jungkook perfectly hitting a soulful high note. 

“I’m so sorry for thinking I was strong,” you whisper to the universe. “Forgive me for my insolence.” You clench your fist in anguish, ignoring the confused looks from the customers in front of you. 

By the time your shift comes to a close, you are completely and utterly drained. You feel like a snail that has been continuously salted over the past eight hours, and you cannot help but cheer in relief when the clock finally strikes two in the morning. You have to wait for the last few diners to make their leave, but otherwise you are ready to let your bed swallow you whole. 

You stand by your hostess desk, leaning your head against it with a defeated sigh. Jungkook’s voice had died down only a few minutes ago, and you hope that by this point he has mercifully left the premises. You want to take a peek to make sure, but just as you’re about to make your way to the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder stop you in your tracks.

“‘Sup, bitch.” Jimin still has that weird, pitying gaze pointed at you, though his words don’t match it. “Are you okay to go home alone tonight? I can bring your dumb ass home if you want.”

You shove his hand away, ready to bite his head off when you think better of it. If Jimin drives you home, then that lowers the chances of seeing Jungkook down to pretty much zero. 

“You know what? Thanks,” you grouse. Jimin smiles at you winningly, and the image of it brings a shiver down your spine. You hit him, creeped out. “Hey. Stop that, will you? You’re being really weird?”

Jimin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Me? Weird? At least I don’t look like a damn firework ready to explode just because my cringelord ex-boyfriend is singing sappy love songs outside—”

“Shut the fuck up,” you seethe, stomping on his foot. He yelps in pain and slaps your shoulder in retaliation. 

“Ouch! Watch your ogre feet! My shoes are worth twice your monthly rent I’ll have you know,” he bristles. He breathes deeply, likely finding his inner calm (which you doubt exists). “But because I’m so nice, I’ll ignore your earlier transgression and blame it on your underdeveloped amygdala.”

You don’t know what’s more surprising: the fact that Jimin knew what an amygdala was or that he was forgiving you in the first place. “Whatever. Let’s finish closing up and then head out. I’m exhausted.”

You make quick work of your task and when you’re ready to head out, Jimin is already waiting by the backdoor. He’s twirling his car keys with a finger and gestures for you to follow him. As you make your way to his car in the back parking lot, you catch sight of a lone figure standing next to a beat-up pickup truck. He’s leaning against it, his hands busy tuning a battered guitar.

Your breath hitches, and you immediately feel nauseous. Of course the incident has yet to end. The night is young, after all.

Jimin accidentally slams the backdoor closed, and the noise wrenches Jungkook’s attention away from his ministrations. Immediately, his eyes lock with Jimin before finally turning to you. 

Your heart skips a beat as he gazes at you, your mind racing with a hurricane of emotions. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, especially not after the tumultuous encounter earlier in the day. What did you say earlier? That “the chances of seeing Jungkook was down to pretty much zero”? 

The chances of seeing Jungkook is low, but never zero, your mind unhelpfully supplies.

There is a long period of awkward silence. Jungkook has his mouth slightly agape, his hand subconsciously lowering his guitar to rest against his truck. To your left, Jimin’s breathing quickens slightly. You, on the other hand, are trying your best not to projectile vomit in this damned parking lot. 

Jungkook is the one who decides to break the delicate silence. “Is that you…?” he calls out hesitantly. 

Don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my name don’t say my—

“Y/N,” Jimin interjects. His gaze is steel cold, uncharacteristic of the carefree boy. He slings an arm around your shoulders, gently nudging you towards his car. With your view still fixed on Jungkook, you miss the way Jimin shoots the other boy with a playful smirk. “C’mon, babe. Let’s go home.”

His words startle both you and Jungkook. “Wha—? Jimin?” you splutter, flushing at his flirtatious undertone. You want to curse him out for his strange behavior, but all the shock has left you mute. 

Jimin all but shoves you into the passenger seat. But just as he’s about to slam the car door, you hear Jungkook call out your name. It’s fleeting and quiet, but you heard him crystal clear.

It breaks your spirit to hear him say your name. For a moment, you feel as though you are floating.

When was the last time he called your name? And so softly, too? If you could replay that moment over and over, would you be able to catch some signs of tenderness in his voice? When you close your eyes later that night, would your dreams show you that he had been gazing at you with yearning? Was any of it true?

As Jimin starts the car and pulls away from the curb, you steal one last glance out the window, only to find Jungkook staring at you with an arm outstretched. You continue to watch him until his figure disappears into the night. 

You are quietly immersed in your own thoughts, the whirlwind of emotions intensifying your persistent migraine. Unaccustomed to silence, Jimin decides to give his unsolicited two cents, as per usual.

“Geez. Didn’t know you were into the whole starving artist type. If I’d known, then maybe I’d stop trying to brag about my fortune to you,” Jimin scoffs. “If loser buskers like him impress you, then maybe I should—”

“Would you shut the fuck up for once in your fucking life!” You explode, whirling to face him with a glare. Jimin has the audacity to flinch, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. 

“What the fuck? Why the hell are you mad at me?” 

“What the hell was that back there? ‘C’mon babe.’” You mimic his voice with a sneer. “Why on earth would you do that? Now he thinks that we…”

“Why do you care what he thinks? He’s your ex, remember?” Jimin cuts you off, but you can’t even refute him. He continues, “Figured as much. And judging by how spooked you’ve looked all day, I have to assume that he was an asshole, right? Why else would you accept my offer for a ride home if you really wanted to avoid seeing him?”

You shrink under his accurate assumptions. Damn, were you really that easy to read? “I… I mean, yeah but…” You clear your throat, still feeling wronged by him. “You didn’t have to act like a weird prick in front of him!”

Without warning, the floodgates burst forth. You begin to ramble, the thoughts that have been weighing you down pouring out of you in waves. “Jungkook was my ex, yeah. But he wasn’t an asshole. On the contrary, he was really sweet. The nicest guy in my school, at least. Wouldn’t hurt a fly, that sort of person. I dated him all throughout high school and he was a great partner.”

Jimin hums skeptically. “Then why the messy break-up?”

“It wasn’t messy!” You retort defensively. 

“Could’ve fooled me!” Jimin snorts. “I also frequently act like a trembling kitten when I see my exes,” he says sarcastically. 

You ignore him. “The reason we broke it off was because he wanted to pursue his dreams to become a singer after high school and I wanted to do other things. It was a mutual break-up! Honestly, I’m glad that we did. Too many girls wanted him and all the unwanted attention was getting on my nerves. I was glad to find a reason to end it all,” you explain, hoping you didn’t sound as shaky as you felt. What you said was mostly true, though you left out the important bits to yourself. Mostly to save some of your dignity intact. (Truthfully, you just didn’t want to admit things you weren’t ready to face.)

“Then if you’re so glad, why do you look like you wanted to shit yourself? It ain’t adding up,” Jimin fires back.

“It’s just—” you stammer, trying to find a reason why you were so bent out of shape after seeing him. “I-I was caught off guard, I guess. I knew he was pursuing his dreams to sing and all, so I expected him to leave the country. I wasn’t expecting to see him outside where I work, of all places,” you mutter lamely. You have your head bowed, biting your lips from the nerves. Again, you weren’t totally lying. 

Jimin is silent for a moment, contemplating your admission. When he looks so calm like this, it’s hard to get a read on what he’s thinking. As Jimin speeds down the highway, the street lights illuminate his face in a strange way, and for once, he looks like a stranger. His steely expression makes you nervous, for some reason. 

Eventually, he asks you a question you would never have expected. “And he just let you go?”

You pause. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Jimin huffs, irritated. “He just up and left without a fight? If I were him, I would have…” he trails off, his jaw clenching. 

You don’t know where this Jimin came from. Under the moonlight, Jimin looks livid, but that can’t be right. Jimin, mad for you? Sure, you’ve seen his anger directed towards you, but this? Everything’s gotten so complicated, and you are just about ready to succumb to sleep and hope to wake from this nightmare.

The rest of the drive to your house is silent, save for the sounds coming from passing cars. Jimin pulls up to your apartment complex, his mysterious anger finally subsiding. 

Just as you’re about to reach for the car door handle, Jimin places a hand on your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N. I’ll talk to management tomorrow morning. I know the manager well enough that I can probably convince him to do something about that ex of yours. He’s busking on private property, so it should be easy to get rid of him,” Jimin says, tone serious. He swallows, and for a moment you think he looks a little nervous. “If that’s what you want, I guess.”

His kindness scares you. You want to tease him, ask him where Mr. Bitchy and his $2000 Chelsea boots had gone. Anything to make this air of severe sincerity to abate. This new Jimin feels suffocating. But instead, you nod your head stiffly. 

Jimin makes a pained expression for a moment, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual playful smirk. He slaps you upside the head, laughing heartily at your stunned face. 

“Get some rest, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he chuckles, reaching over to open the door for you. You scramble out into the cold city air, taking one last look back at him through his window.

He rolls it down, leaning forward to flash a toothy grin at you. “Hey, stop with all the angst, pookie. Wouldn’t want my favorite toy to get sick from overthinking. Who else would I bother at work if not you?”

You snort, both endeared and irritated in equal measure. He’s right. Everything was going back to normal tomorrow, you’re sure of it. You flip him off with a cheeky grin before making your way to your apartment.

Everything is going to be okay. Jimin says he’ll do something about it, and for whatever reason, you feel like you can trust him on this. Surely good fortune was soon to be upon you. 

xxx

Jimin had texted you while you were still sleeping:

Spoke to Manager Jeong about your little problem. He said he’ll deal with him.

You breathe a sigh of relief, your body feeling significantly lighter. Your sleep last night had been tumultuous and restless. You feel more tired than you did when you went to bed, but all your weariness fades once you read Jimin’s text. 

Once you make it to work, you find that management has gotten rid of Jungkook somehow. Added with the fact that your landlord has promised to look into repairing your shower (no guarantees, but you want to stay optimistic), today has been significantly better compared to yesterday. You even catch yourself humming as you set up your workstation, a small smile gracing your lips.

Jimin has a later shift this evening, and you find that you are somewhat disappointed for once. Your overwhelming gratitude is surely the only reason, otherwise you would never admit to wanting to see him at any given time. 

You are in the midst of texting Jimin about all the good news when your manager passes by your desk. You are quick to pocket your phone away from his prying eyes, ready to defend that you aren’t slacking off… but his demeanor does not reveal any ire. In fact, he looks rather pleased for once.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeong. What’s up?” you ask, suspicious. You instinctively fold your hands behind your back; it is a subconscious effort on your part to keep your distance from him. Something about your manager always gives you a bad feeling when he looks a little too happy. 

He grins widely. “Everything is going splendidly, Ms. Y/N. In fact, I think today might just be our lucky day!”

Never during your time working here has his and your luck ever coincided. “Our lucky day?” you echo.

“Why, yes! I spoke with your lovely friend and coworker Jimin this morning,” he starts, and immediately your alarm bells ring. You don’t even bother correcting him about the ‘friend’ part like you normally would. He continues, “He gave me a brilliant idea about the busker who had been performing in front of the restaurant the past two days.”

You nod slowly, not quite understanding. “Yes… The busker has been quite… the spectacle,” you say carefully. Somehow, you know calling Jungkook a ‘nuisance’ would have been the wrong choice in this instance.

Manager Jeong beams. “Exactly! You must have noticed the amount of people we served yesterday despite being a Monday. Additionally, almost all of those new customers requested outdoor seating no less!”

You feel the world tilt on its axis. What is he on abou—?

“What are you talking about?” you exhale.

“Don’t you think it would be even better for business if we got that busker to perform inside the restaurant? Why, it’s a brilliant idea and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first! Our live band has always been missing something special, and perhaps a vocal accompaniment is the exact answer to our problem! Think about it, the atmosphere would be…”

Manager Jeong continues to prattle animatedly about his plans to your unhearing ears. There must be static or cotton plugging your head because you cannot possibly understand anything he is saying. Jungkook? Inside? Performing at your restaurant? But Jimin said he had spoken to the manager about getting Jungkook away from you! None of this makes sense. 

“That makes no sense,” you verbalize, unknowingly cutting Manager Jeong from his monologue. He halts in surprise, as if now just realizing you were standing there (much less capable of interrupting or disagreeing with him). When he snaps out of it, you sense that familiarly sinister aura emerging from him in waves. You belatedly realize he must have mistaken your outburst as antagonistic.

“Well, Ms. Y/N. Whether it makes sense or not, we have hired Mr. Jeon to perform live at the bar stage for the next four weeknights. If, for some unknowable reason, I am incorrect,” he pauses to emphasize his words, “then his services will be promptly terminated. However, judging by his popularity from simply standing out in the cold and singing silly love songs, I am sure that worry is unwarranted.”

Behind you, the telltale sound of the main door swinging open catches you even more off guard. You do not even have the chance to turn to face the newcomer, only managing to register the gust of cold wind that accompanies their entry.

And so, you hear him before you see him. 

“Hello?” Jeon Jungkook greets quietly.

Even without turning, you can imagine how he looks, how he stands, how he feels, how he tastes—

Manager Jeong claps his hands gleefully. “Splendid timing! Speak of the devil…” The older man nearly skips towards Jungkook like a youthful school girl, accompanied by his uncharacteristic squeals of excitement. 

You can feel his gaze on you, almost tangibly. With nothing but your shreds of dignity left intact, you force yourself to face him. 

He’s still so tall, is all your mind can helpfully supply as you stand feet away from your high school sweetheart for the first time in two years. He’s still wearing the same bucket hat from the night before, semi-shielding him from view. Despite that, you catch a small flash of white graze his bottom lip as he chews the soft flesh nervously.

“Hi, Y/N.” He addresses you directly, completely overlooking your manager without a single glance. Despite his hat, he still has his eyes lasered on you, as if not quite believing you were there. You hate how his attention makes you shiver all the same. 

Even though he ignored your manager (which would have been a major dispute had you done the same), Jungkook still receives a friendly handshake in return. “Mr. Jeon! I’m surprised you know Ms. Y/N, though I’m sure you must have spoken with her when she was escorting guests to the outdoor seating the other day.”

You had actually gotten your co-hostess to seat all the outdoor seatings yesterday, but you weren’t going to mention that.

Manager Jeong claps him on the back, inadvertently causing Jungkook to stumble forward closer to you. He looks up at you then, eyes bugging out of their sockets like a rabbit caught in a bear trap. You stagger backwards in turn, barely concealing the anxiety on your face. Oh fucking hell.

Your manager is none the wiser, of course. “Well, this makes my job much easier! Since you’re both acquainted, I’ll let Y/N show you the ropes. The band doesn’t start their set until later in the evening, but you’re free to take a look at the stage and other parts of our facility in the meantime,” he says, chuffed. Meanwhile, Jungkook looks like he’s been shot by a freeze ray. 

Then, your manager points a sharper gaze at you. “Ms. Y/N, treat our super star well. I know you won’t disappoint me.”

Fucking superstar… You can only nod in defeat. “Y-Yes, sir…” you whisper, clenching your uniform with your fists. It is the only way to keep them from shaking like a leaf. You watch as his figure disappears behind his office door, leaving you to fend for yourself. Powerless, you train your gaze to the floor, unwilling to meet Jungkook’s eyes. 

But the nerves are taking control of your body, screaming at you to eject, eject, eject!

“Sorry, I have to go to the toilet,” you splutter quickly, almost tripping over yourself on the way to the restroom. You dimly wonder if Jungkook is going to think you’re leaving to throw up, but you can’t find any self-respect left to care. All you need is air and space to breathe—preferably away from him. 

You slam open the stall, hardly checking to see if anyone else is around before locking the door shut. You sit on the toilet, plant your face between your knees, and scream. 

Should you go home and use sickness as an excuse? But even if you did, you still had shifts every weeknight. You would have to see him eventually. You can pray all you want that Jungkook will be fired by the end of the week, but even your delusional mind can never fathom the idea that anyone would willingly want to send Jeon Jungkook away. Plus, you remember that the regular band that plays at the restaurant has been wanting to get a singer to accompany them for ages, and you know just how damn affable he can be. They are going to love him, and you hate him for that.

It is clear to you that there is no other option:

You pull out your phone to quickly open up Indeed on your browser, frantically hunting for any openings that might fit your measly qualifications. However, you have to pause in your search to deliberate. Wouldn’t it be better to move out of the country? You had been so naive to think that moving cities was enough distance between you and Jungkook—going across the ocean is the obvious answer. Should you start up your Duolingo lessons again and hope that you can somehow survive in a different continent with only a few dollars to your name? 

You shut your phone in despair. Whether or not your plans of escape are feasible or not, in the short term, you are stuck with having to suck it up and just learn to ignore your ex-boyfriend’s presence. Surely you can force out a fake smile or two, especially with how much practice you’ve gotten after working with unbearably entitled customers. 

Taking a step outside of the restroom stall, you head to the sink to splash some cold on your face. You stare at the mirror, confronted by a girl who looks two seconds away from having a Netflix Original-esque meltdown. You rake your fingers through your hair, doing your best to look like you aren’t about to rush into incoming traffic. To no one's surprise, it doesn't work.

“Okay, I got this. Just pretend like he’s just some guy, because at the end of the day, he is just some guy,” you mutter to your reflection. She looks back at you unconvinced. “He may have broken my heart into little bite size pieces, but who cares! HE’S JUST A GUY!” You repeat the phrase over and over again like a lunatic, in a desperate attempt to cognitively alter your brain chemistry.

At that moment, one of the other stalls in the restroom creaks open, and a girl you recognize who works as one of the dishwashers walks out. You both have a silent eye conversation as she quietly studies your crazed expression and crumpled work uniform. 

Eventually, she awkwardly clears her throat, pointing to the only sink in the restroom. “Uh, sorry to hear about your, uh, guy problem. Could I use the sink please?” 

You hastily back away, allowing her to take your spot. You don’t even have the energy to apologize for your spectacle, just bowing sheepishly to her before making your way back to the main hall. If she rats you out to the rest of your coworkers, then that gives you another reason to move out of the country. Maybe you should consider a name change while you’re at it.

When you exit the restroom, you half expect Jungkook to be waiting for you by the door, but find that he isn’t anywhere nearby. He isn’t by your hostess station either, and you thank your lucky stars for once. Even if your manager had asked you to show him around, you’re sure that Jungkook can find his way around just fine. Plus, the stage is at the corner of the restaurant and is sufficiently far enough that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him if you were careful. 

You don’t know which greater entity has been messing with your sanity these past few days, but you hope that they can show you mercy just once—a brief reprieve, if anything. 

You clasp your hands in prayer. I’ll eat more vegetables, I’ll remember to floss, I’ll call my parents from time to time… Just please let me survive tonight. 

“Remember, Y/N… He’s just some guy,” you reiterate through gritted teeth. If a passing coworker happens to overhear your demented chanting, then you pay them no mind.

You walk towards the entrance, flipping the sign to open. You feel like a video game character when you glance at the clock, which signals the start of your shift. You can imagine the red bold text hovering above your head: 8 more hours until freedom. 

This is just like playing Five Nights at Freddy’s, except you’ve only watched the movie and you suspect your life is probably worse than whatever Josh Hutcherson had to survive through. 

You take a couple heaving breaths to brace yourself for what will be the longest eight hours of your life. You’ll show Jungkook just how well-adjusted and mature you’ve become. You are a professional, and not even a boy with angelic vocals will make you crumble. After all, what’s the worst he can do? 

xxx

He could, in fact, do a lot worse than you thought. 

“I have many regrets being born at all,” you mutter bleakly, three hours into your shift. 

Jungkook had started singing only an hour ago, so you had been filled with false confidence at first when the restaurant was filled with nothing but ambient chatter and soothing jazz music. You felt more and more confident as the minutes ticked by and your anxiety slowly melted away. You even forgot that he was somewhere in the back, likely warming up or whatever it is that singers did before a performance. 

However, your brief moment of courage shatters almost immediately when Jungkook finally takes the stage. 

At first, you did your best to tune out his voice, but it’s especially hard when whoever was in charge of the sound system decided to crank his volume to an excruciating level. You wanted desperately to grab some napkins and shove them in your ears, but you suspected that your customers (and manager) would be unappreciative of that gesture. And so there you lay, forced to wallow in Jungkook’s melodious singing like a criminal strapped to an electric chair.

But how much more pleasant an electric chair would be! Why on earth was Jungkook so adamant to sing sad love songs the entire time? Why couldn’t he be like his other singing contemporaries, who loved to write songs about getting bitches and making money? At the very least, even if he wasn’t quite a platinum selling artist just yet, surely he was constantly sharing beds with anyone he pleases? Couldn’t he sing about that?!

(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it would be less painful to learn that Jungkook has slept with multiple people… Because then, it would mean that he had moved on while you stood alone on your island, stranded and yearning.)

You didn’t want to think too deeply about his lyrics. However, you're only human. So when your mind barrier failed and you caught snippets of his singing, you noticed a pattern. There was always a girl in his songs. She was omnipresent, and Jungkook was always pleading for her. Begging and aching and wanting. But most all… he was always repenting. In every song, he always whispered a pious apology. 

You feared what would happen if you turned around in those moments of weakness. You were terrified of admitting something, of letting words spill that had been trapped in your throat for the better part of two years. 

Lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of one Park Jimin. Though, can you even count him as your savior when he had also inadvertently caused your demise?

Jimin doesn’t even have a shift today, so you’re more than surprised when his bright blonde head stumbles through the restaurant doors. His expensive coat is askew and his signature designer shades are nowhere to be found. He is panic incarnate—an expression you have never seen on his face before.

“Holy fuck,” he greets, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. His profanity startles the elderly couple waiting to be seated, their glares menacingly sharp. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even seem phased.

In lieu of an answer, you gesture vaguely behind you. You can imagine how dejected you must look. “Holy fuck indeed,” you sigh.

It takes a moment for Jimin to regain his bearings. He straightens up and pats down his coat, but his hair is still tousled by the wind. If not for the fact that he has a car, you might have thought he had run all the way here. 

“I am so sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen,” he starts, genuinely remorseful. “I texted Manager Jeong this morning and he said he’d get your ex to leave, but I didn’t think he’d offer the damn bastard a job!”

“Mind your language, Park. I’m still at work,” you scold. You try your best to ignore the scrutinizing gaze of the elderly couple. You lower your voice. “And don’t apologize. I know you’re an asshole, but I doubt you’d actually prey on my downfall like this. I know you’re not into public humiliation.”

Jimin brightens slightly at your joke, but he still looks like a guilty puppy who'd been caught shitting on the carpet. “Yeah, well. I happen to enjoy tormenting you and I won’t let some upstart Charlie Puth wannabe ruin your life. That’s my job.”

You smile wryly at him. “Well, that’s too bad. Jungkook’s been singing for a few hours now and I’m pretty sure Manager Jeong is going to keep him long-term. He might have broken my heart, but damn does he have vocals. I'm sure you'll have plenty competition when it comes to 'who can make Y/N's life feel like hell.'”

Jimin doesn't smile back, but instead studies your face for a moment. Then:

“Do you think if I offer to suck Manager Jeong off, he’ll fire him?”

“What the fuck?” You nearly yell out in surprise, your jaw dropping to the floor. Judging by his serious scowl, you know he's actually considering it. By now, the elderly couple waiting to be seated have left the premises.

Jimin continues, unperturbed. “I know he secretly wants me, based on how his wife seems to have a personal vendetta against me. He definitely wants a taste of my bus—.”

“Stop, I get it!” You wave your hands to make him shut up, heat rising up your cheeks. “Never say that string of words to me ever again. You have just inflicted ten years of suffering onto my poor brain.”

“Hey, I’m just offering solutions here!” Jimin pouts. 

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Save it. You tried solving my problems already, so let’s just accept the fact that there’s nothing else for me to do but to suck it up. It’s time for me to put on my big girl pants for a change.”

“I mean, I could do all the sucking instead, but you’re being a little bitch about it,” Jimin mumbles. He’s lucky you didn’t hear him this time, lest you give him something to really whine about.

“Anyway, I guess this is my life now. Nothing to do except hope that he never tries to interact with me or I can find another job,” you shrug. 

Over your shoulder, Jimin fixes Jungkook with an icy glare that is cold enough to give you the shivers. For the first time that entire night, you hazard a glance back at the stage, finding that Jungkook is already looking back at you.

You whip your head back forward, perspiration forming down your back. For fuck’s sake, this guy.

“Well, let me know if he tries anything. I’ll beat that little freak into the floor if he tries so much as breathing the same air as you.” Jimin huffs, puffing up his chest with false bravado. You can’t help but laugh at his empty threat, knowing that Jungkook could probably bench press Jimin without breaking a sweat. Jimin's muscles are only for aesthetics, after all.

“Don’t worry, he hasn’t actually spoken to me actually. He can keep singing his sad little love songs, I really don’t mind,” you say, like a liar. Jimin snorts, wholly unconvinced.

“Well, if you need me, I’m heading to the bar to grab a drink so I can stare at your ex uncomfortably until he leaves. See you!” Jimin bids you farewell with a cheery grin as he skips a little too happily inside the restaurant.

Why'd you have to befriend the largest lunatic in the city? You massage your forehead with a groan, willing away your growing headache. 

The rest of the night trickles away like molasses. Jungkook continues to sing his heart out, save for an hour intermission where he presumably takes a short break. In his absence, you hear Jimin guffaw loudly, his laughter too sharp to be considered happy. You faintly hear Jungkook shy stutters in response, and you momentarily consider running in to interrupt.

Why? Did you want to save Jungkook from Jimin’s unnecessary harassment? It’s not like Jimin is doing it out nowhere, he was just trying to be… a good friend?

You pause to ponder. As much as you hate to admit it, you know why you want to help Jungkook. But Jimin on the other hand? Why did he want to help you? Questions begin flowing through your head like a whirlwind, and your nausea increases. God, when was your next therapy appointment again?

You save those questions for another day. As you look at your watch, there are only thirty minutes left until two in the morning. You tap your foot impatiently, smiling curtly at departing customers as the restaurant slowly emptied. As they left, you overhear some of your regulars giggling amongst themselves, whispering about the cute new singer and his charming demeanor. 

The last nail on your coffin has been hammered. Yeah, Jungkook isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. 

With the restaurant closing soon, it sounds like Jungkook is ready to end his set as well. 

Throughout the night, Jungkook rarely made a point to speak. The only time he didn’t sing was when he quietly introduced the title of his next song and the band swiftly began the first opening notes. For his last song, however, Jungkook decided to give a little more backstory for his final song. 

“Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for listening to me for the night,” Jungkook says with a soft voice, his tone awfully shy despite his powerful belting throughout the evening. The few customers left give him a warm round of applause, and you hear the familiar sound of his timid giggles spill from the restaurant speakers. 

“This will be my final song for the night. Most of the songs I sang today were covers, but this one is an original. I…” He hesitates for a moment, and something pulls you to turn despite the alarm bells ringing in your ears. You face him, and just like earlier in the evening, he is already looking back at you.

This time, you don’t look away; he does. His eyes flit to the ceiling, and he licks his lips from nerves. “I… I wrote this song a long while ago. I’ve never sang it in public before and I never thought it would ever see the light of day. Until, well…”

He stops again. This time, he gestures to the guitarist in the band, silently asking to borrow it. With a guitar in hand, he smiles a little more confidently at the small crowd of people. He begins strumming the first few notes, and your heart stops. “I hope everyone had a pleasant evening. Get home safe and have a great rest of your week. My name is Jungkook, and this last song is called…”

Before he can sing the first line of his song, you make a break for it.

You slam the restaurant doors open, and the stinging cold air immediately pierces their fangs into your skin. Your coat is still inside, but you can’t bring yourself to reenter. You take a long breath, the chill barely registering in your mind with how loudly your heart is pounding in your ears.

Hearing the opening to that song was enough to bring you back in time, three years ago:

You are in his childhood bedroom, his walls littered with concert posters and his floor a mess with unfolded laundry and guitar picks. The afternoon sun is streaming through his windows, bathing him in gold. You have an exam the next day and he has cram school to go to, but you’ve both chucked your books somewhere on his desk, left forgotten. 

He has his eyes closed, concentrated. You’re both on his small twin bed, squished together side by side and thighs touching. You have your head on his shoulder and he has his hands on his guitar. He strums a few chords experimentally and sings a melody that only the two of you know.

(Not anymore.)

“Are you writing a new song?” you ask, voice a little scratchy. Neither of you had spoken for the past few hours, just basking in the setting sun and Jungkook’s indistinct strumming. But now, his chords sound more sure, more certain of something.

“Yeah, I just thought of it,” he hums. He opens his eyes a smidge, a smitten smile on his lips. You mirror him. 

“What’s it about this time?”

His brows furrow. “I’ve been trying to write about other stuff, you know? Namjoon-hyung tells me it’s important that songs have meaning and impact.” He pauses in his strumming, looking a little conflicted. “And I get what he means. Art is all about saying something, but… I can’t help that there’s only one thing I ever want to talk about. Is that so wrong?”

You chuckle, understanding what he means. You nudge your head against his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. The fluttering in your chest has become routine to you at this point, but he somehow always knows how to increase it tenfold. “God, you’re such a sweet talker. Really, Koo. There’s no need to serenade with love songs—I’m already yours.”

He looks back at you, brimming with tender affection. “I know,” he responds. Then, he takes a pen from his bedside table, and begins writing.

During those years of dating him, you always thought that If he was a waterfall, then you were a teaspoon. You desperately tried to be enough for him, but you’re barely able to fathom the depth of his devotion. Everything about him was excessive, and you could seldom understand how he managed to contain himself. He was born to share himself, to tear bits of his soul so that the world may understand him, love him. His songs were a testament that he was trying to do that, and you always felt so lucky to be able to receive him, wholly and fully.

How cruel was it that Jungkook uses that same song to rip open the barely healed scab on your heart, leaving you bare and stinging and raw all over again.

You have no idea how long you've stood there in the cold. It must have been barely a few minutes when Jimin finds his way to you. He wordlessly shrugs his coat off and places it on your shoulders, but you make no move to acknowledge him. 

You hope your silence is enough for Jimin to infer that you are not in a conversational mood, but he’s nothing if not impatient. He forcibly pulls you to face him, his hands warm even through your clothing.

“Hey, you good? Did something happen?” He asks with barely concealed irritation, but it’s not directed at you. Still, you flinch at his scathing tone, shrinking in on yourself. In your daze, you vaguely notice his resemblance to an angry baby chick. 

“It’s nothing. Go back inside, I’ll be right there,” you mumble lamely, weakly pushing him back towards the restaurant. Jimin does not budge, instead leveling you with a hard stare. This time, you’re sure his irritation is for you.

“You idiot, you literally ran out like someone was out to get you. Of course it’s not nothing,” he grouses. 

You sigh tiredly, shaking your head at him. “We can talk later. It’s almost closing time and I just want to go home and sleep.”

Before Jimin can argue further, the door to the restaurant opens once more, but it isn’t a leaving customer. 

“What the fuck? What are you doing out here?” Jimin all but shouts at Jungkook. He holds up an accusatory finger at him and uses his other hand to nudge you behind him as if to shield you. 

Jungkook winces, instinctively stepping back. Despite being a few inches taller than Jimin, Jungkook’s timidness makes him look smaller. “I… I was just worried about her—”

“Don’t you have a song to finish in there? Talk about professional,” Jimin spits out. Jimin maneuvers you so that Jungkook can’t see you, but you manage to catch sight of how his gaze follows you unfailingly.

“I finished up my set. It’s closing time.” Jungkook responds coolly. He’s still a little quiet, but you can sense some of his natural composure rising to the surface. When he needs to be, Jungkook has been known to stand his ground—usually when it comes to matters involving you.

At this time of the night and after hours of mental torture, the last thing you need is to watch your two worst nightmares duke it out in front of your work establishment. You are beyond exhausted, and you hardly have the fortitude to withstand another minute of their voices ringing in your ears. 

Your eyes well up with tears of frustration, causing the two boys to freeze up in panic. You don’t give them the chance to fuss over you; instead, you haphazardly wipe your cheeks before roughly pushing them back towards the restaurant. 

“Get back to work, you idiots.” Your voice sounds warbled even to your own ears, but you push past your overwhelming emotions in favor of getting back inside to close up. Hell, you might even call in sick tomorrow, just so you can cry pathetically into your bowl of cereal in solitude.

“I’m not even on the clock today!” Jimin complains faintly, but you only push him harder. 

When you all reenter, you walk back to your desk and pointedly ignore the two of them until they awkwardly float away from your orbit. Despite the distance they give you, their gazes are still fixed plainly on you and they feel like knives digging into your back. 

Eventually, all the final customers of the day take their leave, and your remaining coworkers start dimming the lights and bidding their goodbyes. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook bowing respectfully to the band, who were giving him friendly pats on the back for a job well done. Jimin walks toward you, his car keys dangling from his left pinky. 

“No thanks. I’ll take the bus home today,” you declare before he can offer a ride. Jimin opens his mouth like a goldfish, flapping his lips dumbly as he stares at you in shock. You have no idea why he’s so surprised, given how you’ve been making it obvious that you need some space.

He looks like he wants to argue again, but thinks better of it. A singular moment of restraint from Park Jimin, which is an act you once thought impossible. Maybe he does care about you more than you thought. 

He stiffly nods at you, shoving his hands and keys into his pockets. He still has a frown on his face when he tells you to text him when you get home. You flip him off with a shaky smirk in response, a feeble attempt to bring some levity back to your now tense relationship. It works a little, and Jimin brightens up significantly. How simple-minded of him.

With a flippant wave, you leave work and head towards your bus stop. At this hour of the night, the streets are mostly dim, save for some street lamps and bars that stay open longer than your restaurant. There are always some people milling about, enough that you never feel too on edge about how late it is. Still, your bus stop is often empty, leaving you to mull over your thoughts in peace.

You are in the midst of jamming your earbuds into your ear when a presence makes itself known beside you.

Is it possible to go through the five stages of grief in under a second? You suppose not, but it’s hard to tell what sort of emotions swim through you when you come face to face with Jeon Jungkook again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mutter under your breath. You pause the song playing on your phone to glare at him with as much venom as you can muster. 

Jungkook holds up his hands in surrender, doe eyes wide like prey. “I-I’m heading home too! I’m not following you, I swear!”

You groan internally. Figures that you and Jungkook take the same bus home. But hold on— “Don’t you have a car? I remember you were parked near the restaurant the other night,” you note, squinting at him.

Jungkook looks sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah. That car was my hyung’s. He lets me borrow it sometimes, but he needed it tonight.”

“Sure…” You level him with a skeptical frown. You remember his hyung, but don’t recall him ever owning a car. You aren’t even sure that his Namjoon-hyung is allowed by the country to drive a car, much less own one. 

He could be lying, but you don’t want to give him an excuse to continue any conversation. So, you busy yourself with your phone and keep your head bowed away from him.

When the bus arrives, Jungkook makes it a point to sit a few rows behind you. Thankfully, he has a better understanding of social cues than a certain Park that you know. He leaves you alone, but your entire body still feels like a rope pulled taut. You have to convince yourself not to look behind you, your morbid curiosity scratching your insides raw.

You are in the home stretch now, and it’ll only be a few more minutes before you get to your stop and make your way to your safe haven. Hell resumes the next day and the next, but at the very least you’ll have your home to yourself. No one could take that away from you.

Again, this is where you learn that tempting fate is never a good idea.

When you exit the bus at your stop, you can hear his footsteps following you. It’s hard not to notice, especially when his large and distracting boots make such a distinct racket that makes him so Jungkook. 

You hasten your pace towards your apartment complex, your shoulders hunched and hands shoved into your coat pockets in an attempt to hinder the bile rising from your stomach. He had promised that he wasn’t following you, but that proclamation seems to be standing on feeble legs with how long he’s been on your tail now.

Your street is filled with rows of low-rise apartment buildings, so you hope that if anything happens, you can yell as loud as you can and alert some compassionate neighbor to come to your aid. (Not that you think he would ever physically harm you, but… You can’t say the same about your mental state.)

Your home is just two buildings away from where you are, but Jungkook still seems determined to follow you to the end. You all but skip the remaining feet to your apartment entrance, your breath coming out in puffs as you finally muster up the courage to face your supposed stalker and give him a piece of your mind. 

“If this is some convoluted way for you to find out where I live, then you aren’t being very subtle about it,” you say, your chin held up high despite the growing urge to vomit pathetically in front of your ex-boyfriend. You have your hand rested on the doorknob, just a moment’s notice away from bolting into your house if the need for a quick getaway arises.

To your surprise, Jungkook wasn’t following you as closely as you expected. He had stopped trailing you about two buildings down, his own hand poised on the door with a look of genuine shock.

You both stand there, staring at each other as mutual understanding dawns on the two of you. 

Everyday, the universe learns of more creative ways to be cruel.

“Oh…” Jungkook’s voice falters. He looks simultaneously frightened and amazed, as if he too finds this entire situation unbelievably harsh. He swallows thickly, looking at you and back to his door in quick succession. “Well… This is a strange coincidence,” he murmurs. 

You want to believe that this was his entire fault, that Jungkook had somehow managed to track you down to haunt you for the rest of your days. You want to believe that he’s a crazed stalker who is willing to find where you work and live so that every hour of your wretched life is filled with nothing but reminders of what-could-have-beens. You just want someone to blame instead of just the cosmos—you want someone tangible to hate so that your suffering can be given some sort of identity. You want to give your mourning and hurt a name so that you can learn how to heal.

You want to believe all of that, but it’s hard to do so when Jungkook looks so incredibly uncomfortable, as if he’d rather melt into the shadows and never be seen again. 

In all your memories, you have never seen Jungkook look so small.

You heave a big sigh, your fingers grasping the door knob so tightly that you half-expect it to be dented from the force. You linger for a moment, your mouth opening but nothing spills out. 

What is there to say? What do you say to an ex-boyfriend that you haven’t seen in two years, who is suddenly so deeply entwined in your life once more? Do you tell him goodnight? Tell him to stay away? Tell him to come home with you?

Jungkook looks equally as conflicted. His lips are pursed tight with words left unsaid. You aren’t sure whether you want to punch the confession out of his mouth or seal them up forever. It feels like eons before he finally breaks the silence with a mirthless laugh.

“I… I just wanted to say—back at the restaurant. When I sang that last song,” Jungkook begins, and his voice feels loud because of how empty the streets are. For a moment, you are reminded of a cathedral you once visited during a vacation, how sacred silence can be. The world holds its breath, waiting for him to speak.

“I meant it all. Every word. Every lyric. I never stopped…”

He trails off, shrugging his shoulders. He stares at you helplessly, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to listen any more, but your feet are planted to the ground. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, forced to brace against him as he crashes into you. 

He continues, “And when we broke up back then… I never wanted that to happen. You broke it off before we could even try something—and I hated how I didn’t fight for you harder. I let you misunderstand me because I was afraid you wouldn’t want to stick around if I didn’t succeed. I convinced myself that I was holding you down, but I never gave you—us—a chance. I never stopped regretting it since.”

“Me? Break up with you?” You echo incredulously. That statement is enough to break you from your trance, the telltale signs of indignation rising up your chest. “How dare you suggest—Me? You were the one who broke up with me, asshole! You were the one who broke my heart and decided to up and leave to god knows where! Only to miraculously respawn right next to me, groveling at my feet with sad love songs as if that’s enough for me to forgive and forget? Fucking entitled bastard,” you seethe.

Somehow, Jungkook manages to shrink more, like a bunny with his tail tucked between his legs. “Yes, you’re right that I broke your heart but… When I told you I was moving away to try and become a singer, it was always with the intention of staying together. I know it would have been difficult, but I wanted you to be with me through thick and thin. But when you misunderstood and took it as a break up, I let you go because, well… I was scared that it would happen eventually. Who wants to date a broke busking fool anyway?”

He laughs, but it sounds watery. He sniffles, and you hope it's only because of the cold. “I tried looking for you, but you blocked me everywhere and no one from back home seemed to know where you went. So I just accepted that we’d never see each other again… Until a few days ago, that is.”

A misunderstanding? Is that what everything boils down to? Years of trying to build yourself back up again, relearning what it means to be happy—all the fallen domino pieces in your life trailing back to a single moment in time? All because Jungkook was scared that you didn't love him enough?

You’ve never felt angrier in your life. You fear what you might say if you continue to stand outside there, face to face with the singular person strong enough to whittle you down to the bone. Jeon Jungkook is all soft smiles and sweet songs, but how come he’s always able to knock you off your axis? Few people on this earth can stitch you up and break you down in equal measure, but somehow, Jungkook manages to do all that and more.

Then, comes the guilt. Had it been all your fault? That you hadn't returned his love in equal measure? Had you secretly given up on the hope of being on his level? Always looking down on yourself: unable to move past your insecurities. Were you terrified of being his side piece, his girlfriend, forever?

Who are you, even? And where do you stand?

(Beside him, is what you want to answer. You don't know if that's the right choice.)

You can’t bear to look at him, least of all answer him. Without another word, you shove your house key into the door before slamming it shut despite the late hour. If you awaken any neighbors, you’ll apologize later. For now, all you require is sleep and hope that this has been all a terrible nightmare.

xxx

Reality is a bitter pill to swallow.

Jeon Jungkook continues to sing at the restaurant, and after only two days of repeat stellar performances, your manager decides to promote him as the official vocalist for the band. It hurts to admit that you're not the least bit surprised; you might have a hard time looking at him, but you can never deny his talent. 

His song list has added a larger variety of genres ever since his first performance. That is to say, he isn’t always singing about lost loves and tragic couples every night. Perhaps it is due to some requests from customers or his other bandmates, but it doesn’t stop him from sprinkling one or two love songs into the mix. 

He doesn’t sing any original songs ever again. That, at least, is a small mercy. He doesn’t make any moves to speak with you either, despite the daily awkward trips back home after the end of your shifts. Whether that’s because he’s given up on you (again), or he’s waiting for you to make the first move, you don’t know. Frankly, you don’t think you have the energy (nor courage) to do anything about it.

It’s a few weeks after Jungkook’s first performance at the restaurant, and closing time is approaching. You appreciate Friday nights the most because it means you’ll have two consecutive days to relax and avoid your problems. It’s also the busiest night of the week, when white-collar workers decide to drink and eat for as long as the night allows them. Busier nights mean more distractions, and you’re willing to deal with twenty Karens over one Jungkook.

During nights like these, your manager occasionally asks you to fulfill some waitress duties when there aren’t enough hands on deck. Normally you’d hate it, but earning the extra tips is enough to keep your grumbling to a minimum To this day, your landlord has yet to do anything about your broken shower, and you’ve finally conceded to the fact that you’ll have to be the one to do something about it. 

As you inform the customers in your area that the last call for orders is approaching, you sneak a glance at the bar to see Jimin dutifully performing his job. That is to say, he’s flirting up a storm, getting women and men alike to blush from head to toe as he serves their drinks with a salacious smirk.

What a swindler, you think to yourself, snorting when he makes eye contact with you. He gives you a cheeky salute, mouthing something as he gestures to the back door.

Despite the semi-fight the two of you had all those weeks ago, Jimin was never one to argue about the same topic two days in a row. When you saw him the next day after your confrontation with Jungkook, Jimin was back to all smiles. You still catch him sending death glares towards Jungkook on most nights, but he doesn’t bring up the matter with you anymore. For that reason, you’ve gratefully settled back into your weird, banterful friendship with him. Even if there’s still a lingering tension between the two of you that you refuse to acknowledge.

You nod thankfully back at him, excited to go to his house and take a much needed shower. At this point, going to his house has become second nature to you, and it gives you an excuse to not see Jungkook at your regular bus stop every day. You have half a mind to never fix your shower for that reason, but of course there is still the problem of having to deal with Jimin every time you need to bathe. You hardly consider yourself an impatient person, but Jimin likes to toe the line far more often than necessary.

You’re down to your last two tables before you can close up shop when your manager suddenly barrels right into your path. You nearly drop your tray of dirty dishes to the floor, holding in a loud yelp as your suspiciously stern-faced manager halts you in place.

“Ms. Y/N, may I have a word with you for a moment? It’s regarding your paycheck for the month,” he barks, lips downturned. He appears disgruntled about something, and it sends a worried shiver down your spine. And here you thought Fridays are meant to be fun. He doesn’t wait for you to reply before he stalks back to his office, an unspoken command for you to follow. 

You unload your dishes in the kitchen before making your way to his office. The small, dark room is cramped with overflowing file folders and coupons from multiple take-out places. You accidentally step on a stack of papers, and upon further inspection, seem to be a pile of applications for new hires. You distinctly remember complaining to him months prior about being understaffed and him replying that no inquiries were coming in.

As you approach, your manager shuffles through your coworkers pay stubs, and you notice yours and Jungkook’s on top of the piles. 

Manager Jeong clears his throat. “Well, Y/N. It seems to be your lucky day. As you know, we split the tips based on your hours and what sort of duties you fulfill. With the new hire we have as our in-house singer, we’ve had to split it one way more to accommodate his arrival. However, he has recently requested to me that his portion be reallocated… to you, Ms. Y/N.”

Your jaw drops immediately. “I-I don’t understand, Manager Jeong,” you sputter. 

Manager Jeong snorts, bemused by your reaction. “Don’t understand? Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask Mr. Jeon if you want his reasoning. Regardless, since we normally deposit your salary straight to your bank account, would it be alright if I hand you his tips in cash for now? He only informed me about his request an hour ago, and the accountant has already clocked out for the week.”

All you can do is nod dumbly back at him. With a huff, your manager presses a white envelope into your hands before promptly ushering you out of his office. “Well, that's settled. Out you go! Have a good weekend, Ms. Y/N. Don’t forget to lock the register before you leave!” He calls out before slamming his door in your face.

It takes you a moment to reanimate back to life. You stare at the white envelope for a long while, unable to fathom the scribbled out name of Jeon Jungkook replaced with your own name. Then, you crumple it into your fist before stomping over to where Jungkook and the rest of the band are in the middle of packing it up for the night.

Jungkook looks up from his guitar case when he senses you fast approaching. For a fleeting second, a smile graces his handsome face before it’s smacked away by your crumpled envelope. 

“Keep your fucking cash, Jungkook. What the hell is your problem?” You fume, cheeks heating from agitation. Jungkook splutters for a moment, prying the envelope away from his face and looking at it in bewilderment. When he sees it clearly, recognition dawns on his face, followed by guilt.

“It’s just… my way of saying sorry, I guess.” He answers you meekly, neck flushing red in embarrassment. Behind him, the rest of the band grow silent at the scene before them, and you debate on telling them to mind their own business when they quicken their pace to leave.

“Well, keep your apology to yourself. There’s nothing to apologize for,” you correct him with a frown. To offer an apology is to offer accountability. You aren’t sure if you’re ready to hear him say that. 

“No, it’s a sorry for… using you, I suppose.”

“Using me?” You repeat, dumbfounded. “For what?”

Jungkook smiles wryly back at you. “For inspiration?” he clarifies. For being the reason I can sing? He leaves that part unsaid, but you can almost imagine him saying it. 

You feel heat rising to your cheeks again, but this time you aren’t quite sure if it’s from embarrassment, anger… or something else.

Unable to conjure up a response to his simple confession, you stomp away from him with a pounding heart and shaking hands. You continue the rest of your closing shift routine instinctually, your body moving on autopilot as Jungkook’s words continue to ring inside your head. When all is said and done, Jimin makes his way to your station with a questioning stare, but you wave him off in favor of stomping ahead of him to the parking lot.

In his car, Jimin rattles off about his latest exploits and purchases, his grating voice a comfort for once. You hum noncommittally during his stories when appropriate, but you suppose your usual indifference feels different, even to Jimin's untrained ears. 

At his house, you drift to his bathroom immediately. You already have a shirt button undone by the time you get a handle on the door when Jimin’s hand stops you in place. You can feel his warmth emanating against your back as he slowly pulls the bathroom door close. With a tired sigh, you reluctantly turn to face him and find him standing closer than you expected.

He has an arm resting above your head, effectively caging you. You feel your shoulders sag. Damn, here comes another confrontation. Why can’t everyone just leave you alone?!

“Talk to me,” he says. No, he demands.

You push him away weakly, but he hardly budges. “Nothing to talk about,” you lie. Had you no filter, you’d be word vomiting all over the place ages ago.

Jimin groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Enough with the emotional constipation. I’m here to listen, alright? No teasing or anything, I’m all ears and maybe a shoulder to cry on. Just don’t stain my Chanel top too bad,” he jokes.

You puff out a short breath—a sorry excuse for a laugh. “Don’t you get it? I don’t want to talk about it, and that’s that.”

“It’ll make you feel a lot better, though,” he offers.

You scoff. “What makes you think that? What if I just want to ignore all my problems forever and never grow from it? Is that so bad?”

Jimin pushes himself away from you, raising his hands in mock defeat. “You’re so fucking annoying. Can you stop running away from your problems and talk to me? Hell, talk to Jungkook for all I care! Just stop being a doormat and speak your mind for once in your damn life!”

“What are you, my therapist?” You brush past him, shower all but forgotten. You begin toeing your shoes back on, ready to head home tired and smelly. At the very least, you won’t have to deal with this stupid annoying asshole any longer. 

Jimin strides back towards you, but for once he doesn’t do anything to forcibly stop you. Jimin has always been gruff with you, not afraid to push and pull you in any which direction. It’s part of the reason why you can’t take him seriously, even though you’ve recently realized why he was always being such a prick towards you—

“Yeah, I’m not your therapist. But for better or for worse, I’m your friend and I—I fucking care about you, alright? And it sucks seeing that good-for-nothing stick his nose in your business and act like he can do anything without any repercussions.”

Is Jimin being for real right now? “With how often you look at yourself in the mirror, you’d think you’d be better at introspection,” is all you say to that. You shove your feet into your shoes, not caring that you’ve probably put them on wrong. Maybe it’s because it’s Friday and the fatigue from the week has finally settled deep in your bones, but you can’t help but leave one last scathing remark to drive the final nail in the coffin.

“You know, if you were a little nicer to me, maybe I would talk to you. Hell, maybe I’d like you back. But no, just keep being your domineering, asshole self and I’ll keep being the same fucking doormat bitch you know and love,” you spit, turning towards the door and away from his face. You’re not even curious to see how he reacts. “I don’t need protection, alright? When I tell you to stay out of my business, you stay out of it. So don’t try and pretend to be my knight in shining armor.”

There’s an ocean of silence, enough to hear a pin drop. The urge to apologize surges to the surface, but you stamp it down. He’s petty all the time, so now it’s your turn.

Okay, maybe that’s a little too mean on your part, but you’re exhausted. Perhaps it is true when they say you should never act on your anger when it’s past midnight. But can anyone blame you? You’re only a girl, and girls need to snap too. 

When he responds, his voice sounds weak. Park Jimin, weak? It's almost unthinkable. "Why don't you trust me?"

Isn't it obvious? you want to say. But some mercy remains within you. You'll pick up the pieces another time. Instead, you rasp out, “Good night, Park. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The walk of shame back to your house is long and arduous. Your phone dings thrice, likely signaling texts from Jimin, but you turn it off without checking for sure. For once, the weight on your shoulders is slightly lighter. You huff out a dry laugh, realizing belatedly that maybe Jimin is right—maybe speaking your mind has its benefits.

There’s a small park in your neighborhood that you always pass by. You don’t remember the last time you spared it a second glance, but this time you notice a lone figure swinging back and forth, arching dangerously higher than what you would consider safe. From a distance, all you can make out are the person’s comically bright boots, and you have a sinking suspicion you know who it is without seeing their face.

Cosmos, or whoever it is that controls my life, why must you braid our strings of fate so tightly? You ask, but as always, it refuses to reply.

Against your better judgment, your feet bring you closer towards him. He has his back towards you, his feet pumping him higher and higher and you half expect him to swing in a perfect arc like a gymnast on parallel bars. You have to keep your distance a bit, lest you get the wind knocked out of you by his signature stompers. 

You clear your throat, and the boy stops mid-swing and nearly catapults himself into the spongey, playground floor. Hunched over and wheezing, Jungkook directs his shocked eyes at you with a comical stare. 

You raise a hand in greeting. A peace offering, maybe. “Hello—”

“I swear I’m not stalking you!” Jungkook interrupts as he scrambles to his feet. He bows deeply in remorse, the action so endearingly him. “S-sorry, I’ll make my way home now…”

“I don’t own the park, Jungkook. I was just saying hello…” You snort, wringing your hands uncomfortably. You grind your shoes into the ground, the sound of crunching leaves breaking the still air. “A-and… to say sorry, for earlier.”

“Sorry?” Jungkook repeats, confused. When he realizes what you mean, he waves his hands frantically. “No, no! Don’t be sorry! It was my fault for being so inconsiderate. I understand how you might misconstrue my actions, and I made things more awkward. I’ll consider your feelings more in the future…”

In the future… You cough, unwilling to meet his bright and honest gaze. If you stare too long, you fear you might go blind. 

“I come here to the park often, when I feel too cramped inside my apartment,” Jungkook explains, frantic energy radiating off him in waves. He’s gesticulating too much, a clear sign that he’s trying to hide his nerves. You remember how he would do the same thing in high school, whenever he had to present his projects in front of the class. 

You hold a hand up, a weak attempt to get him to calm down. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I just wanted to…” What is it that you wanted to do?

The two of you just stand awkwardly like that, similar to a few weeks ago when you discovered you were neighbors. You’re grasping at straws in your head, both conflicted for wanting to tell him something and running away. Even if you were to talk to him, what would you say? There’s a reason you told Jimin you didn’t want to talk—frankly, it’s mostly because you have no idea what to say or feel. 

But you do know, the universe responds. 

I ask you questions all the time, and this is how you respond? 

Either that, or you’re going insane, the universe remarks.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he unlocks it. He takes a furtive step towards you, but thinks better of it. There’s a few feet of distance between you, but it feels like worlds apart. Close and yet so far. You recall how you’d easily pull him towards you in the past, how being together felt as natural as breathing. 

“I know you absolutely hated it the last time I played my original song at the restaurant, so I refrained from performing any ever since that night. But that didn’t stop me from writing them. I was fine with keeping them locked in a vault forever, but…” He hesitates, searching you for any signs of discomfort. When he sees the carefully blank look on your face, he continues with trepidation. 

“Can I try a song for you? You don’t have to say yes, and you’re free to tell me to fuck off and I’ll never even look at you ever again. Just…” He flails one last time, a choked sob making its escape from his throat. 

Are you hopeless for wanting to say yes? Or were you reverting back to your old self who relied on him and believed in him so heavily? If you wanted him out of your life for good, you would have quit your job at the first sight of him. Maybe you were masochistic. Or maybe were you hopeful for a new start, a chance to rekindle a relationship that you’ve secretly always wanted to repair.

You have so much life ahead of you. Many more mistakes will be made and maybe they’ll haunt you when you’re older. But would it really be such a terrible gamble to take one more chance? 

You nod, and seal your fate.

He presses play, and the soft strumming of a guitar fills the empty playground air. 

Not for the first time, you wonder how it can be so easy for Jungkook to be so… honest. He spills his heart in every song that he writes, and you know he’s never been a great liar. He can’t help it, being genuine is in his DNA. This crashing waterfall, this boy with overflowing emotions—he sings what he thinks but feels terrified because of it. You might not understand his honesty, but you know that fear. You know it all too well.

He beholds himself to you—raw and unfiltered. A little battered and bruised, but still Jungkook. Behind everything, still the boy you’ve been yearning for.

Maybe this song is what will give you enough confidence to admit everything to him, too. As you stand there, listening to his mellow voice sing confessions to no one but you and the stars, you think you grow a little more courageous that day.

Maybe you won’t be able to tell him tonight. Maybe not tomorrow, nor next week either. But as you gaze back at his hopeful eyes, you know deep in your heart that you’ll find the words you’ve been looking for.

“I’ll keep waiting for you, if you let me.” Jungkook’s voice floats gently to you, and settles in your open palms. This time, you don’t let go

xxx

Months later, Jungkook stops working at the restaurant when an offer from a major record company arrives in his mail. Apparently, a big shot from the local radio station had pitched him to an employee at that company and they were all pleasantly surprised to find a hidden gem at a random bar and restaurant.  

In your apartment, you stare outside your window and to where his home is—well, where it was. You wonder if he finished packing his things, ready to make the big move tomorrow. You stand up with a stretch, sparing a glance at your still broken shower. It would be nice to have one more shower at his place… And after that? Maybe you should start looking for a nicer apartment; somewhere far away might be nice.

Your phone rings, and you see his contact photo light up your screen. With a smile, you answer.

“Come over, if you want. I won’t make you,” Jungkook assures you. 

You laugh lightly, already halfway out the door. 

[enkidusbi]

can i read your thesis i wanna know about how mesopotamians kept their loved ones close. i feel like there might be something about roots or foundations or grounding, connecting the family to the home & people to place both physically and metaphorically. gravesites are powerful powerful place connections and im really curious about what we know about a culture whose gravesites and homes were one and the same. i imagine they were pretty comfortable with death

so it's not online yet because i want to publish it first in a journal BUT i can tell you a bit about it. this is gonna be specifically about the old babylonian period (19-15th centuries BCE) because that's what my thesis is on, but with some changes it's pretty much applicable throughout mesopotamian history

so the basic thought behind burial under the houses is that the dead don't cease to part of the family. ancestor cult is an important aspect of mesopotamian culture and domestic religion. the netherworld is not a nice place, it's dark and dusty and all the spirits have for food is dust. but if you feed your ancestors (this is a ritual called the kispum which consists of food offering, libation and the calling of their names. it's a regular ritual that some sources say was done monthly, and others say it was during the yearly festival of the dead in the month of the god dumuzi/tammuz) then they'll have things to eat and drink in the afterlife! and if you are a spirit, the more descendants you have, the more your well-being is ensured! it's a symbiotic relationship. if your ancestors are satisified, they can help you out with things and act as sort of benevolent protective spirits over the household and the family, and also welcome you in the netherworld when you die. but spirits who were not properly buried or aren't given the proper offerings can wander, come back to haunt you and cause harm. if you would like to know more about this, i recommend dina katz's book, the image of the netherworld in the sumerian sources, an amazing read. the point is, the dead are part of the family, they have their metaphorical place in the family structure and a physical place in the home

people in the notes mentioned that moving probably was difficult. and it definitely was. some of the people buried in these houses were in underground tombs, built from burnt clay bricks, and some others were just in graves dug into the earthen floor, all around the houses. now these brick tombs are often found completely empty, no skeletons, nothing. which means that the family took them when they moved away. probably because they were in some way the most important ancestors, maybe the main lineage of the family? this part is not really clear because these bones are missing, they took them, we don't know anything about them. however, in ur, there are two examples of just the skull being buried and i think that means that family moved to this house from somewhere else and brought the skulls of their ancestors along and re-buried them. it's a very rare find though

from an anthropological perspective, the phyisical proximity of the graves in the same place where the living slept, ate, worked, raised children, etc, was a kind of constant reminder. of their shared ancestors, of their shared identitiy as a family and as a larger clan or kinship group. from a psychological point of view, it was a strategy of coping with grief

important to note also, that this was not practiced by every family. there are houses with no graves at all or just one or two graves, certainly not the whole household. this means that most likely there existed also cemeteries, burial grounds outside the cities. to my knowledge, no cemetary like this has been found yet. but it would be insanely interesting to see what they were like and how the people buried there were different from the people buried in the houses at the same time!

in the end, let me give you a quote from the myth of erra and išum (translated by karel van der toorn in the book mesopotamian magic). this is what a man says about his house:

"These are my living quarters, I have personally made them and will have my peace within them, and when fate has carried me off, I will sleep therein."

i said i can't write a poem about this. and i don't have to, because they already did and it's beautiful

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Made it to chapter 16 today which means Feyre and I have both had our first impressions of Rhysand's Inner Circle and ohhhhhhh boy

Its hard to pinpoint why exactly, but theres something so discomforting about watching them interact. I think the main thing is that for all their "casual-ness", theres still clearly a rigid hierarchy between them and they all seem to 'know their place' so to speak, its not at all like Lucien and Tamlin's relationship in the first book which genuinely felt like a friendship that was unburdened by their status or positions. Like, theres this one moment where Mor and Amren are like kinda bickering with each other i guess, and Feyre remarks that Mor is probably super powerful if she dares talk back against Amren (in an incredibly minor matter Im pretty sure but I already forgor ngl) and because this is the book where Feyre's perspective starts being Objectively Correct all the time, I guess that's true, I guess the only reason someone would dare voice their opinion on something to this friend group is if they were physically more powerful because otherwise you just level a fucking mountain during an argument

Anyway, Im gonna switch topics for a short moment but I promise this diversion is relavant to the point above. So, sometimes when I go into the anti-tags on here looking for criticisms or complaints of the books, I instead find anti-ship posts that are mainly just about trash-talking some ship, mostly ones relating to that whole Elucien/Elriel/Gwynriel shipwar, which I already have thoughts on but I'll save those for later. In any case, one day I stumbled upon this pretty long anti-elriel post about how the gifts Elain gives Azriel on winter solstice arent actually cute and it describes how she gave him like, herbs that help with headaches "because his friends are always giving him headaches" apparently. And then that post went on a whole rant about how insensitive that was of her and that she doesnt actually understand Azriel's dynamic with his close friends, but honestly, judging from this chapter Elain was absolutely spot on

And I usually wouldn't say this because yknow, its only one chapter and we're probably gonna get the nuances of their relationship later, but this is a book written by Sarah J Maas, her characters and their relationships are rarely particularly deep and, more importantly, her writing is incredibly unsubtle. If Azriel was in any way fond of his friends shenaningans I wouldve noticed it, because Feyre wouldve noticed it like 15 times during that whole dinner. But she didnt.

Its especially bad for Cassian and Azriel because it feels like Cassian thinks they have this great rapport but Azriel just genuinely kinda dislikes him. Not to mention that whole fucking mess with Azriel and Mor and Cassian and Mor having sex so she wouldnt get married off or whatever, good god how is every conversation between them not insanely awkward

Even beyond that, idk man, theyre all just so insufferable. I dont understand how Amren, ancient eldritch being trapped in a fae body that she is, can stand to be around them, I wouldve left them 5 centuries ago if I was her. I guess the explanation is that she finds the government position interesting but its like, youre SECOND to the most boring and annoying man on the planet only kinda ruling over a court that you dont even actually care about from everything Ive heard. Again, if I was in Amren's position I would not be hanging out in an APARTMENT in a boring ass city at the behest of a quartett of stupid bozos, I wouldve weaseled my way into being the personal advisor of Beron or some shit so I could watch the Vanserra Family Drama unfold live

There was one good thing about this discomforting dinner though, and that was how inexplicably gay Cassian was for Rhysand. He was really out there, looking at him with such love, calling him pretty twice in like two minutes being all "I knew I wanted a piece of him the moment I first saw him, the high lord's pretty son" like okay. I know what you are

[thenamesblurrito]

To bring some positivity to TFOne coming out, what stuff did you like about the trailer? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

oh man im still digesting it a lil bit but whoof lets go-

ECOLOGY

WE HAVE ROBOT ANIMALS!!! FLORA AND FAUNA!! WE SEE MORE THAN JUST CITIES WE SEE LANDSCAPES AND GEOGRAPHIC FEATURES AND A BLEND OF CIVILIZATION AND WILD SPACES AND A PROPER ALIEN PLANET!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ANIMALS!!!!!

like don't get me wrong the cities themselves rock and are gorgeous, but we only ever see like... just a bunch of grey metal and blocky greebled buildings and rust. Cyberverse was probably my favorite properly alien planet as a whole instead of just a really big sci fi city named Cybertron and i'm so excited to see what they do with it in One, ESPECIALLY with how it seems to be heavily technoorganic and hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Quintessonsssssssssssss eeeheheheheh give me the SQUIDS

actually for that matter the aesthetics?? this is such a fascinating artistic direction that i'm really appreciating like the vaporwave sunsets, the fractal moving mountains and aurora horizon, those busy neon city scenes and the upside down underground towers and... whoof it's all so incredible?? and it manages to be visually stunning WITHOUT just being a bunch of, yknow, greebled nonsense. it looks designed, it looks like it has Culture and Life and Intent behind it instead of being a mess of vaguely robotic detail slapped on. i keep wondering what the significance of the tower on the poster will be. the train things are fascinating. the little hints and implications of society and oh how interesting that could be expanded on. the mecha themselves too are like, halfway in between uncanny valley and stylized tin soldier toys for me in a way that took a bit of getting used to but i'm appreciating more and more how it's visibly and joyfully animated instead of trying (and failing) to be 'live action' like the Lion King

the SCALE. THE SCALE!!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW RARE IT IS WE GET SO MANY NAMED KNOWN CHARACTERS PACKED INTO SCENES LIKE THIS. tf canons usually have core casts of characters both for storytelling and budget reasons and yet here we've got so many shown off in just the trailer, it makes it feel like a real populated planet instead of a handful of robots and some set dressing like Aligned feels like to me.

i've got some insane questions like why does D-16 already have a Decepticon brand on him??? why is Alpha Trion alone and sad and did he rip those tcogs out of the corpses of other primes to give to them and why is he some kinda mossy gorgonopsid unicorn?? why is Sentinel getting tentacled and will we see him be ripped limb from limb (positive)?? what are Vehicons here and how do they differ from regular bots and what is their purpose???

the only real issue i have is Hasbro being predictable and shoving Bee in when someone else would really better fit this movie as he's typically not meant to be in this time period/role but eh. disappointed but not surprised and willing to let go and laugh at him being comic relief anyway. there's literally not enough information on anything else for me to say if i don't like it or not yet bc i have no idea how they're gonna execute it, but what is there has me eager and hopeful it'll be good

i guess the biggest thing is. it looks fun. it looks FUN!!! the world looks fun, the characters look like they're having fun, it just seems like a movie that wants me to ENJOY it!! i'm ready for a fun movie in a franchise i love!!

[grand-theft-carbohydrates]

replying to @caozihuanismyson

"If that was love, Cao Pi didn’t need it. Didn’t want it. It was better to be indispensable than cherished. He needed to become something that could not be left behind. Something that Father could not live without." my jaw just fucking dropped #i love this. im in love. holy shit#HE NEEDED TO BECOME SOMETHING THAT COULD NOT BE LEFT BEHIND SOMETHING THAT FATHER COULD NOT LIVE WITHOUT#(im screaming louder so people in the back can hear)#(jk there's no one in the back cuz it's san guo on tumblr.com but still)#💀#thank u op i have ascended#also all the little details of ang trying to make up for father's absence for his lil bros..... when pi wiped his tears my heart broke#that part where cao pi imagined ang's last moments? holy shit i've never thought of it that way it's genius and horrifying#(ok i need a moment)#also............... i'm going insane about the part with fish and jade#and cao pi describing cao cao's expression of love towards cao ang as painful#and wanting to put him in his mouth like how soldiers keep their precious things safe#i thought this was going to be about ang's tragedy .... but it turned out to be about that and the horror of pi's existence#thank u for the meal op i'm so grateful

thank you so much, this is such a nice comment to wake up to!!!! it makes me so happy to have such dedicated readers who catch every single detail ;u;

Cao Ang has been my blorbo for a long time because he is a fascinating contradiction. he achieved nothing and did nothing of note, but seems to have left a significant impression on those around him. Cao Cao expresses regret for him on his deathbed. Cao Pi talks about how he should have been the rightful heir. Lady Ding was willing to disobey the most powerful man in the empire in order to get the smallest measure of justice for him. His death always struck me as, well, a feel-good narrative told by a guilty conscience. Cao Cao could have ordered any one of his bodyguards to give up his horse, but he didn't. It makes sense in the coldest, most logical way. Why lose an able-bodied fighter for a brat? You can always make more. I came up with a bunch of scenarios of what "really" happened, but in the end i realised it doesn't matter. Cao Cao still left his son to die. the horror comes from the ambiguity itself. I also wanted to explore how his actions would impact the remainder of his children. They realised overnight that they were all disposable and no one was safe. the real tragedy doesn't come from Cao Ang's death, but his father undoing all his hard work. Ang tried his best to give them love, curb their worst impulses, and foster good relationships between them, only for his father to stick them in the Sibling Royale. Climb to the top and uproot all your competition. ect. ect.

But I am an optimistic person and I believe true love can pierce the veil and save the day and all that. Cao Ang's ghost continues to haunt the narrative and in the end, he manages to effect his brothers in some way. Cao Pi comes to realise that, hey, this kinda sucks, actually. i think we're emotionally stunted and perpetuating the cycle of violence. maybe i don't have to trample all my brothers to preserve my own life. maybe i shouldn't become exactly like father. hmm much to think about. Cultural Context, for those interested:

funerary practices are not historical, but based on the modern shangdong ones i've experienced.

"putting your child in your mouth" is an expression of helpless tenderness. the full phrase is "i want to you hold in my hands, but i'm afraid of dropping you. i want to hold you in my mouth, but i'm afraid you will melt." i wanted to show this conflict within cao cao, the warlord vs the man. how his ambition corrupts him. ultimately, cao cao does not put his son in his mouth to protect him. he consumes him instead.

the opening scene is based on Cao Pi's poem "Traveling on the city wall." His poems are notable for being very emo, he talks about feeling isolated and unfulfilled despite having every worldly possession. I decided to connect it with Cao Zhi's (ahistorical) bean poem. the metaphor is less profound, but what can you do? he is the lesser poet after all ;))) .

[idealspawn]

ive been away from tumblr for such a long time, afraid it would trigger me. ive been doing so well:) i moved to another city. back to where i lived for a year, a year prior to this one. i was able to join a programme that enables me to study in this university again for a year as like an exchange student(?)-ish thing. it feels amazing. ive reconnected with two(three-ish?) extremely dear people to me and ive found my love for knowledge again. my apartment is so nice too. i live near a train station but i can barely hear anything, and if i do, the sounds are actually comforting. i used to dislike trains, they made me anxious but starting this summer i grew to love them and now i regularly even prefer them. i live on the top floor so my ceiling and walls are slanted but it brings me such comfort, my room in my parents' house also has it like that. i have a second floor, well half of it. there is a built-in ladder staircase. it feels extremely comforting. ive had to fix, and still have to fix, many things here bc its a relatively cheap apartment but im fine with that. it actually makes me feel more at home when i can work on the apartment and make it my own. it feels more like home when everything isnt perfect either. the washing machine was disgustingly dirty and the air ventilation thing above the stove is also so fucking nasty but ill deal w it.. not my first time renting an apartment...... .. .. . the emotional aspects of this place are way more important. ive adopted plants too this time around. and a lot more intentionally, ive made in-depth sheets on how to properly care for them. i speak to them and kiss them every day. i know i will buy at leasr one more plant. so far i have an aloe vera plant, alocasia zebrina(MY DEAREST but also the most needy), a chinese money plant and an ivy. i want another ivy but a diff one. right now i have the one called wonder, it looks very friendly, very round. i didnt intend to get this one but they got my order wrong but i didnt have the heart to exchange it so i will just keep it and buy the other ivy as a friend to it. i am so fond of the one that has, i cant seem to find its proper name, but the one that has extremely slim and elongated and really sharp star-like leaves. i figured maybe the two contrasting ivy plants would even look better together than just one. so maybe the wrong order was a blessing in disguise. im using plants to learn unconditional love and acceptance because my family definitely didnt provide me with that skill.. :d.. did the same with my childhood cat, thats why she was so extremely dear to me. when noone else in my family loved me unconditionally, she did:). ive been really motivated to study and read a lot of my own extracurricular stuff too. ive gone to really interesting tours and public programmes about nature and culture and society. ive actually enjoyed being on my own and had the balls to show up to places alone, i used to never be able to do that. i always had to have someone with me but its really limiting as many people around me right now have colliding interests. im also so insanely proud of myself for speaking up in a seminar!!!!!! u have no idea. NO IDEA how hard that has been for me. to realize my insight has value and should take up time and space in a seminar. ive always come so close to speaking but then my heart has raced out of my chest and then the moment passed. but this time i actually spoke up, i took the initiative and i didnt only speak abt the strict topic that our seminar text provided for that time but i brought up my individual reading!! and a girl in the seminar told me i spoke well!!(i didnt, god i was so nervous i stumbled upon my words so much and avoided all eye contact) AND ALSO the professor leading the seminar told me my answer was good too :) im so happy. im growing so much.

[rin-enjoyer]

long and detailed ramblings about rin's character under the cut <3

rin is flatter than almost any other character in naruto- an impressive feat, considering how badly kishimoto hates woman. i'm not saying that everyone else was written better than rin- all things considered, the complete lack of attention focused on her means that she's probably one of the more consistent characters. no, the flatness arises from a general lack of anything interesting about her presented in an easy to understand or. um. intentional way.

fandoms take the traits that characters display and explore and expand upon them- when a character or concept is interesting but poorly executed in canon, it will often receive a large amount of attention dedicated towards giving it its due.

when a girl has no real personality to speak of and exists pretty much just to die and make two others guys sad- well, that doesn't lay a very good base to explore! it's no wonder rin is an incredibly overlooked character.  

not me tho. id never overlook my girl. this is because i am a little bjt insane and also rabid about her. take my hand. let's explore the deep rabbit hole ive been silently digging for half a year now. there's nuance to her character i prommy- let me show you it.

disclaimer before we begin: i'm aware that the amount of character depth i can extrapolate from rin was not intentionally written in. i mean, like, that's not gonna stop me or anything. but im aware of it. some of the things here have little to no canon basis- i cobbled my rin characterization together with dramatic irony, copious amounts of masks, and spite. i do think that viewing rin like this adds flavor to the canon story, though, so maybe keep that in mind?

the first, central headcanon that influences pretty much everything about rin (to me) is that she hates the idea of being misinterpreted in life or in death. despite that, she wears masks built of what people expect her to be, and makes no effort to remove them and build real connections. and then she gets mad when no one really knows her. she contains multitudes.

this also adds a delicious twist to canon- from rin's pov, obito's great fault is not the murders, the betrayals, or the longing for a perfect world; its him mis-remembering her so BADLY that he somehow mischaracterized the mask she was wearing. my guy.

part of the reason rin wears masks is because she is unsure of who she is and what she wants, and she views that as a personal failure. she has made the logical fallacy, of course, that she has an immutable "true self" who she has managed to lose. she's also 12 and living in kill people repress your emotions city, so i guess we can give her a pass on that. the real important thing to understand here is that rin views any presentation of herself that is not her "true self" (smth that doesnt exist) as equally false. therefore, she assumes that it is easier to continue on with the mask she is already wearing than switch it out for smth just as bad. she does not know that the self is something cobbled together over a lifetime of stealing thoughts, feelings and mannerisms from other people and mixing it with your experiences and innate personality. she paints her cheeks purple because her father does, and he does it because his father did, who did it because his mother did, and on and on, but she cannot comprehend that the laugh she learned from him is just as unique. lmao

another thing about personhood: kakashi and obito, from an outside view, seem very put together. they have goals, for heaven's sake, they must know what they're doing! rin doesn't have a crush on kakashi- she admires him because he looks like he's got his life figured out! (when you start thinking kakashi's put together, you know something's wrong.)

the thing about rin's relationship with the rest of her team is that it's very one-sided. rin is obito's best friend- obito is not rin's best friend. the team spirit and unity that konoha tries to impress on them is lost on rin because she interacts with them like she's on an infiltration mission, and then gets mad that they don't know the "real" her, gets sad that she doesn't know the "real" her, and then puts on more masks to make sure no one notices, and the cycle repeats. the rest of team minato is fooled into thinking that they are close with her, and rin drifts further and further away. we see this when obito "dies-" she almost unaffected by it. now, it's probably portrayed like that as to not take away from kakashi's reaction, but it feeds nicely into my interpretation that she just… doesn't really care.

after obito dies and kakashi starts falling apart, i do think he and rin get a bit closer. he's obviously not in a great mental state to be worrying over her in any manner except physical safety, but he does wonder when her smile stretches a bit too thin and brittle. he never knows rin- not by her definition- but i think sometimes he gets to see her without any masks on: a limp doll who's tired of pretending at humanity.

last point on rin's mental state before we move onto the totally-there-and-real symbolism aspects of her character: she has a very, very apathetic attitude towards death that's only exacerbated by the fact that she's not really close to anyone. she's not exactly suicidal, but she wouldn't care if she died. she's not jumping at the bit to sacrifice herself- that apathy means she doesn't really care if anyone else dies, either. she holds on until she can't hold on anymore, and then she drops it like a hot potato. rin voice: wait if there's an afterlife why are we scared of dying. and then no one ever explained it to her so she never unlocked her fear of death.

ok! symbolism time! i, personally, am a huge proponent of moth/astronaut/icarus rin. there's a few threads that weave into that tapestry, so stick with me while we make our way through em.

first: remember what i said earlier, about rin hating obito for mis-remembering her rather than the whole infinite tsukuyomi gig? well, part of that is because she just really hates being misinterpreted, but the other part is that she wouldn't think infinite tsukuyomi was bad at all! remember, rin is very… nihilistic, and already has a tenuous relationship with consequences- she wouldn't see the problem with fixing things with an illusion. this slots into the moth interpretation- she's chasing the moon! 

second, there's the whole chidori thing. idk if you guys remember it, its only the most defining moment of rin's entire character in canon. the chidori looks like the sun. icarus. do you catch my drift

the rest of the points towards this symbolism are more vague and tend to lean more towards like. obscure references to the challenger crash and a reliance on my insistence that moths and icarus and astronauts ARE basically the same thing, thank you very much, but i think i've said enough to get my point across.

there's more i could say- we could explore aus where rin lives to adulthood, and how she would grow and develop, or we could dive into the fascinating relationship she has with minato and being a mednin, or how she and sasuke are 2 flavors of the same guy, but this post is already stupid long, so i'll save that for another time. just know that rin is the coolest girly ever. and she deserves to kill.

[medtech-mara]

So, your other ocs. Are they involved in the campaign at all, or do they exist separately? Followup: Do any of them interact with each other in any capacity? Friends, coworkers, passing acquaintances, etc etc

Music | CharacterKey | Random

Short answer: Yes. I think what makes this campaign standout so much, at least mostly to me, with 18 years of roleplaying experience…Is how alive our Night City feels. These aren’t just some random newcomers, these are people born in Night city, they had lives before being mercs and it really shows throughout the campaign, where members are trying to hide what they are doing from those they love the most. One players family, friends, even ex-lovers have made huge marks on other players characters lives.  Long answer: YES. MY GOD THIS IS WHAT I LOVE THE MOST ABOUT THIS CAMPAIGN. Mara/the Adams & the Desert Foxes/ Atredies are probably my crown jewels of life brought life into the city.  It started with me just loving how complex Mara’s life was juggling being a Medtech for a Clinic she Co-owns with her Childhood bestfriend/ love of her life that neither have found the words to say to each other yet & trying to hide her Merc life because Jack & Jayce wouldn't approve of it. Something about Jayce wanting to hide the fact he was working for Maxtac from Mara until he couldn’t any longer, Mara then having to go through great lengths to make moves around Maxtac district lockdowns to not be seen or caught by her brother. Having to come up with a good enough lie until I just started running out of them for Mara to tell Jack as to why she was leaving work early, or needed time off for a Gig.  Then, after meeting Jago’s mainline Chae-Rin after his passing, she became apart of Mara’s life some weeks after when she had to be rescued by Mara, and chose to never leave becoming her roommate. There was even a sibling like relationship between the two when Chae-Rin would retaliate against J I H Z Z Y using her Matcha bodysoap by sabotaging Mara’s expensive tech hair shampoo.  2023 had caused a massed homelessness that was solved by the city by using shipping containers and making them into districts around the city. A bulk of them reside in Santo domingo between the outskirts and the Sunset motel, so when rockerboy and new Night Raid member J I H Z Z Y and Mara started their notso Secret relationship, she spent a lot of time out there, and had come to learn and love the tight-knit community that is CD-82 and its residents that have helped raise J I H Z Z Y up from nothing.  These are just a couple examples. I know I refer to Mara a lot and/or jihzzy a lot, but its due to me being able to talk about them a little more liberally than I can with any of complex relationship tree we have going that shine MOST in the AU due to being able to create a little more freely there. It’s INSANE OVER THERE and I love it, I can’t wait to start the new one to further build our version of Night city. This story has all the dynamics, you name it. Even healthy family ones. *Points to the Shins*

okay, so this took me longer than it should have, again im so sorry. Lol. Anyway, I could go on more, but i gotta know who interests you the most, even if they aren't my character, I got the biography of my campaign mates, they always love indulging in some blorbolory (trademark pending?) I know I still don't have it all together yet, still slowly working my way thru it. I got a PH.D on this subject, I know it better than the writer for the campaign.

[multyfandoms-imagines]

If it's alright with you, may I ask for some fluff and angst headcanons/imagines about the LC Traffic Light OT3 that is Ayin, Benjamin, and Carmen? They have a lot of good potential for both fluff and angst that are rarely explored together.

Thank you in advance if you do! The LC fandom appreciates all of the numerous and interesting imagines and headcanons you create, especially the sheer volume you have that it necesittes seperating the thoughts into seperate masterlists.

Oh, my motivation for writing is as wavy as Beat Saber's Player's arms after playing Camellia song on Expert. So sorry that i got like that

In any way, thanks for being patient with me. So, i'll try to add some things into this request as well

Under cut for spoilers. HEAVY STORY SPOILERS

TW: death (alot)

Ayin, Benjamin and Carmen headcanons

•okay, im like 90% sure that majority of newcomers to this universe only played LoR as LC is mostly overlooked due to the gameplay, and likely see Ayin as a terrible, irredimable guy

•he was not like that when his head was alright. Ayin was an introverted, silent guy of the 3, even if he was very smart

•Carmen is the "too much energy" extrovert friend that just does not shut up. But while some may see her as an evil woman, her pity for the people living in the city was real. Living there aint the best thing you know?

•Benjamin was a 3rd wheel, but funny enough, a mix of Ayin and Carmen's personalities. He is shy, but can be vocal about his ideas and opinion on what do these guys do

•Carmen is oblivious, Ayin loves Carmen, Benjamin loves Ayin, there, i said it. You can leave xd

•okay, but their relationship didnt start on the first sight. There were months and years even of these 3 being together

•Carmen was the one to invite majority of the Sephirahs into LC (including Benjamin) and encouraged Ayin to get to know them better. And Ayin, being an introvert, did so after some nudges from Carmen

•turns out he also liked their company alot

•Enoch and Lisa (Tiphereths) were unofficially adopted by Ayin and Carmen when they rescued the kids

•these 3 were living fine lives in Lobotomy Corporation before it all went downhill ....

•this is were you should stop scrolling cus it will be bad

-ok u good? Good? Ok-

•yeah, people die during accidents, and, trust me, they were upset when it happened

•but experiments failed and caused people to die, including some dear friends like Elijah, Enoch. Garion raided their facility, killed whoever she spotted.... You know how the Sephirahs died by now, dont you?

•in the end when Carmen took her own life... Ayin broke down. He didnt care if people died. He promised Carmen to finish what they had started... Regardless of how much more sinful acts he must commit. Going as far as to make that dreadful perfect scenario that didn't help his mental health

•a part of him tried to make himself feel better by making Angela, but that too, failed. But now Ayin didnt even have a slight motivation to either deactivate Angela or to let her live how she wanted. So, she just became another tool for the scenario to do

•it got so bad that Benjamin/Hokma had to erase Ayin's memories, calling him X. And politely asked Angela to watch over Ayin in case he starts going insane again

•Ayin, now X, is pretty oblivious to the relationships he had before now. Not that he minds it

•.... He still feels lonely in his room, X does not know what is he missing to feel like that

[ma-lark-ey]

Lark Liveblogs Lit episode 4(?): The Mortal Instruments

Here’s what I know going into it;

Magnus & Alec are endgame, Alec walks away from his marriage???? Very dramatically to kiss Magnus. I, originally, thought these two were reversed but my mate corrected me.

It’s (roughly???) inspired by her old Draco Trilogy (which I did track down and download, will read eventually) and shares the name with a Ron/Ginny fic (which I read. Mortal Instrument was a very fitting title)

And that’s literally all I know before hand;

Unlike the Harry Potter post, I’ll add my thoughts whilst reading and not just completely after finishing. I will still do the entire series post-mortum on each book, though.

City of Bones; (3/11/23)

Alec is EASILY my favorite. I figured it’d be Simon or Magnus because my blorbo history favors Simons and Magnuses, but Alec has CAPTURED my heart and when he almost died to Abbadon I literally cried even though I KNEW he survived.

Clary, on the contrary, is only slightly less boring than Isabelle. I think Isabelle is badass because she’s got a whip but both of these women is like. Go girl! Give us NOTHING! Especially weird because Clary is primarily our perspective character??

Jace & Simon’s weird little dynamic is interesting. I’m not. Its whatever. I don’t hate it, I’m not intrigued. I DO think Alec/Jace is a far superior romance to Jace/Clary. But also maybe my opinion will change. The little kiss in the garden WAS very cute. Jace thinks he’s so cool and he’s literally not. He’s literally so cringe. His snarky sass is so fun as well, obsessed with whatevers going on there.

The cup being IN the Tarot cards was SO cool. I’m obsessed with THAT.

How old is Magnus. Can I be condoning Malec. Is it like, a Calypso situation. Emotionally he act around 19-20, we’re going with that. He feels like a shitty frat boy. How did this man name Magnus Chase he’s so cool and Magnus Chase is the most pathetic meow meow I’ve ever seen.

UMMM??? HODGE??? WHAT THE A C T U A L FUCK. HELLO. NO. NO. I REFUSE. THIS IS SO FUCKED UP WHAT. SO THAT WAS A FUCKING LIE???? Hodge.

Pov you’re my actually mildly hyperventilating at the end of chapter 22.

JACE IS VALENTINES SON??? THEY’RE SIBLINGS??? Really living up to stealing that name from Ron/Ginny fic huh 😭😭 oh god. Cassie… cassie clare… bbg….

So. The Johnathon reveal fr had me set the book down and walk away because I was in HYSTERICS. congrats, Simon! New chance with your girl because the other part of your love triangle was her BROTHER. so—

Newly finished City of Bones. There’s so much going on here. I’ve thoroughly exhausted my thoughts already. Uhm.

All I have left to say is I adore Luke. He’s perfect. And Magnus Bane RUSHING to Alec like that??? OKAY. HOMOSEXUAL MUCH??? Yes sir go get your man. I see you.

2.) City of Ashes (02/05/23-8/17/23)

Simon and Clary are a MESS i love them. Theyre IDIOTS.

Luke is still my beloved

The complex ass dynamic of Jace and Valentine,,, EAT. love it.

Im gonna be so fr i have updated this in six months and dont remember 90% of book teo anymore actually but Vampire Simon was a slay

Wait that didnt happen in this book.

OH. OH. THE SEELIE COURT? INSANE. INSANO FUCKING CRAZY THAT WAS WILD.

this book took me forever to read because second installments are always weak af (Son of Neptune is an exception) and i struggle so bad

Dont remember if it was this book or book three but him almost dying and Jace giving him blood was the GAYEST thing I’ve ever seen and they should make out. Like that was so horny and for what.

YES THAT WAS TEO IM CORRECT because two was the boar fight and three was the city where sebastian whatever the fuck killed max

Moving on.

3.) City of Glass (8/19/23-8/23/23)

THEYRE NOT. SIBLINGS. WIN FOR EVERYONE INVOLED.

Magnus & Alec appeared like twice but im obsessed with Magnus every time he appears im flirting with him hey bb howzit going.

Maya is my FAVORITE ever i love a wolf girl. Also love a fear demon.

The Max death was UNNECESSARY and UNCALLED FOR he was a BABY BOY. what did he ever do to deserve this. He died HOLDING JACE’S SOLDIER. devastating. Awful.

The mark of Kane for Simon was real as shit im obsessed with that.

The Angel reviving Jace was literally so funny silly goofy. He went “god. What the fuck. At least give this kid a chance at being normal” and thats so funny.

I want to study Jace like a bug. Hes so babygirl.

(I’ll reblog with updates as I read the last half of the series 🙏 it’s taking longer bc ~ school ~)

However!

My best mate & I watched the first season of the show & the City of Bones movie and;

Okay we only watched the first like. 45 minutes of City of Bones because we wanted to watch something genuinely bad and it was doing too well. Obsessed with the cast on that, though. We didnt even get to Magnus or Alec because every casting on the movie was good until Isabelle and it was so bad I made my mate turn it off because I Could Not.

I’m on episode ten of season one of Shadowhunters and its not good but it is fun so I’m thriving. Like this show is bad but also its a fun time so we’re thriving.

[meredithdoesfandoms]

HOW DO YOU THINK THE PARTY WILL BE LIKE AS GROWN ADULTS?? I'D BE INTERESTED TO KNOW YOUR HEAD CANONS!!!

THIS IS SO BROAD GAHHHHH

byler- yall know im an absolute sucker for the Writer Mike™️ and Artist Will™️ hc. they definitely leave hawkins ASAP and go to university together. they always wanted to live in a bigger city, both because of the art scene, and because larger cities are usually more queer friendly. the problem is that will absolutely hates the cold, but also doesnt want to go back to california, or live in the south. basically he’s just a picky little bitch. honestly fuck it, ik the winters are cold but lets stick em in new york. mike gets him through the winter, and they keep their tiny little shoebox apartment at like 80F. (thats a good bit warmer than room temperature for those of u who dont use Freedom Units™️)

dustin- goes to UI and gets his masters. he works in like communications engineering for a while (is that like a thing? like he engineers different radio waves and forms of communication.) he then moves to indianapolis and becomes ur insanely cool high school science teacher. his coworkers think he’s fuckin weird, but the students LOVE him. I THINK HE AND SUZIE ARE LIKE HELLA ENDGAME. they live together and have a bunch of weird ass pets, and like 2 kids MAX. hes just suburban and happy :)

lumax- california lumax. i always imagined lucas working a pretty standard 9-5. not because hes a dull character, but he grew up in a stable home, and after everything max has been through, he wants her to feel secure and happy, like he did before everything went to shit. i have no fucking idea what max would do. lowkey i always hc her as being crazy good with kids, OH MY GOD WHAT IF SHE IS LIKE A PEDIATRIC TRAUMA COUNSELOR. im fucking genius that is so max. NO BETTER YET SHES A SOCIAL WORKER. because the system fucked her over, and nobody ever listened to her, so she advocates for children the way she wished someone did for her as a kid. this is canon because i say so fuck you. lumax doesnt plan to have kids, max has witnessed too many tragedies involving children, and cannot handle having her own. but they foster teenagers every once and while. then they foster one girl who’s a bit younger than normal, maybe 8. and then they accidentally fall in LOVE with this kid and fuck it, we’re adopting her she’s one of us now. and theyre a little family and its cute and max teaches her how to surf :))

el- this always interests me because i dont know what her life could even look like? depending on s5 outcomes things could look like 10 different ways. ik she isnt a strong student, so i like to think she goes to community college to see what she likes, because shes never really had a chance to explore that. i hope she finds something that makes her happy i fucking love this bitch. i saw an hc where she worked at the library in hawkins, so maybe she does that while she does community college classes. PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK SHE WOULD STUDY I CAN SEE LIKE 10 DIFFERENT THINGS. eventually she moves to california, to the same city as lumax. lumax’s kid calls her aunt jane, and they have dinners together and are happy because they all deserve the world ok.

the party remains intact to an extent. byler lives together, lumax lives together, and el lives in the same city as lumax. everyone reunites for the holidays, when will brings mike with him, and el brings lumax with her when they go home for Hopper- Byers christmas. dustin typically makes an effort to stop by while he is in town visiting his mother. even tho theyre in different cities, el and will talk on the phones every damn day. usually once, sometimes like 5 times daily. mike and el talk about once or twice a week, and byler talks to lumax about every other day. dustin creates a little bit more distance, but he makes an effort to call each person for at least an hour a week. there’s a lot of love between all of them :)

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

I re-read my post about chapters 22-30 and I realized that theres so much I just fully forgot to mention, mostly relating to the inner circle so heres a quick summary of my thoughts about each ic member now that Im about halfway through the book and have spent some time with them. To briefly recap my previous thoughts, I think their group dynamic is insanely uncomfortable because of how apparent their hierarchy is and also none of them seem to actually like each other all that much

Amren

I dont dislike her in the sense that I dont dislike her personality or the basic concept of her character, but I do hate that shes in the inner circle at all. Like, whats this eldritch creature trapped in a body thats not her own doing hanging out with all these boring people ass people FOR 500 YEARS dude, if I had to spend 500 years with Rhysand I would destroy the entire night court regardless of whether or not I had Amren-levels of power. Like, why on earth would she be satisfied playing second fiddle to Rhysand and living in an APARTMENT in his stupid °•~City of Starlight~•° when shes supposed to be like a billion years old and a thousand times more powerful than him. I feel like itd be interesting to explore that but I know that we really dont from watching cari can read's summaries, so she just ends up being a character thats supposed to be interesting because shes so mysterious but is actually so shrouded in intrigue that it turns around and she just becomes boring again

Mor

When I first met her I said that something about her bothered me but I couldnt put my finger on what it was, but that I still kinda liked her because she atleast annoyed Rhysand. She really hasnt annoyed Rhys in any way since her and Feyres first meeting so I like her less because of that and also because shes mostly just boring to me at the moment. I think another reason why I dont particularly like her is that she feels so intrinsically tied to the misogyny of this world that just suddenly materialized in this book and its really annoying, I would like to avoid that subplot as much as possible. She basically just exists to give Feyre a female friend at the Night Court and to show her that you can totally girlboss your way out of a misogynistic system! But you cant dismantle the system because uhhhhhhhh. change is like a glacier because its slow

Also, shes obviously meant to parallel Ianthe, like shes supposed to be the better version of her, but I cant even imagine her and Feyre making out sloppy style toxic yuri edition so I cant really see her as any kind of improvement. sorry

Cassian

One of my least favourite character types is Fratbro But You Put Him In A Fantasy Setting so Im not the biggest fan of this guy ngl. The one redeeming quality he has is that hes very obviously crushing on all of his friends bisexual style, especially Rhys and Azriel. Its almost a little sad but mostly its just very funny. Like whyd you wanna take their clothes at the illyrian camps so badly huh? You like seeing pretty boys squirm around naked?

Unfortunately, I know that hes gonna end up with Nesta and that hes not even gonna treat her well, my guy is gonna go from being gay because he likes men to being gay because he hates women and I am not looking forward to it

Speaking of Nessian, a lot of sjm critical anti nessian people say that Nesta and Cassian used to be so good and so genuinely romantic in ACOWAR and that their relationship got completely ruined in ACOSF and. I mean, granted they dont ever talk about Cassian behaviour towards Nesta during the meeting at her house in ACOMAF but I hated the way he was just so angry at her on Feyre's behalf when she wasnt even that mad herself, she just felt weird and bad. Of course, I havent read ACOWAR yet and I might change my mind in the future but right now, I'll just say it doesnt surprise me that Cassian would laugh at Nesta falling down the stairs

Azriel

My favourite guy!!! Out of this bunch I mean. My favourite guy in the entire ACOTAR series is probably Lucien, but if we're just talking about the jokers from the Night Court, then this guy is my favorite

I really wasnt expecting much from him, I thought he would have absolutely no personality from what Ive heard other people say about him, but hes basically exactly what I want in an edgy traumatized shadow boi. Ive talked about this before but I really dislike Rhysand and part of that is that I normally really like the archetype of the tortured edgy love interest with shadow powers but he makes it so goddamn annoying by being so flirty and cocky I just want to see him dead. But Azriel is quiet so he doesnt bothr me and also theres some intrigue about his backstory and the extend of his powes but he feels like a solid enough character that he doesnt become boring to me like Amren

I will say though, theres something particularly uncomfortable about watching anyone from the inner circle interact with him and vice versa, I think its because he seems like he doesnt actually like them more than anything else. Ive said this in a previous post, I think Cassian wants to be in a relationship good friends with him and he seems to think they have some good sunshine guy/grumpy guy banter going on but to me it just seems like Azriel genuinely dislikes him. And then he obviously doesnt trust Amren and I feel like hes in love with Mor and has been for a really long time but doesnt actually like her, I honestly feel like hes just sticking by Rhysand because he feels like he owes him and because it gives him an excuse to be close to his crush

Yknow, that I think about it maybe thats why I like him so much. I dont like the Inner Circle, he doesnt like the Inner Circle, thats a relatable king right there

[tyonfs]

okay my updates r gonna have to be split in like chronological order bc this is just too much for one ANYWAYS. let’s start with new york.

so as we know i used to live in new york and i have a couple childhood friends who live there. my one friend who’s a girl we were inseparable and at first i was scared to meet her when we went but oh boy do i DESPISE HER. she’s such a pick me and she likes to act so fucking different. her humor is like 2020 AND SHE DRESSES LIKE IT TOO.

one thing about me is i’m a family girl and for some reason my mom was like oh let’s take to the cemetery with us to see your grandparents and i’m like??? anyways when we went and we were there praying i noticed she kept looking around and trying not to laugh and my mom sent me and her to the car she literally was like why r u so serious they’ve been dead 12 years like wow! just wow!

enough of that girl i’m already getting mad.

let’s talk about the one who’s a boy… oh boy. his name is arsal and oh my god when i saw him in new jersey it’s like i swept off my feet back to when we were kids. when i first got to his house he didn’t say much besides hi and how are you and when our parents forced to go on that walk oh my god. alice i swear i can count to you everytime he looked down at me as i talked and everytime our hands brushed and flinched away. we caught up with school and our lives.

then he said what i was so scared of hearing. he talked about the time we were kids and he had the fattest crush on me and the way he looked at me was like i was the only girl in the entire world. after said incident as i left his house his instagram popped up on my thing and i followed him. HE FOLLOWED RIGHR BACK.

after this we saw each other in the city when our families planned to get together. we went on a ferry ride and i got seasick but so did he and everyone was doting on him but he was like “but she’s sick too!” and while we walked he deliberately stopped WAITED FOR ME then started walking with me and matching my steps. and when we were gonna go on the double decker buses he wanted to sit next to me but i was sitting with that horrible terrible friend and he was like oh no biggie and sat across from us and i could feel his eyes burning into my head all the time like the view was gorgeous and he was looking only at me.

and you’ll never guess it. right as i land back in texas all this energy just stops. from 100 - 0. the little times we talked in dms was just so dry and terrible and it doesn’t make sense to me so honestly i’ve just stopped trying. i haven’t texted him in over a month so i’d say that’s going okay.

and briefly let’s talk about cam bc ohhhhhhhh man. basically he transferred schools bc he got capped at ut and so he moved to austin which doesn’t bother me bc after new york i was like i rlly don’t wanna commit to him but we talk from time to time and recently we talked on ft and oh my god it was bad. i was complaining abt classes and stuff as one does and he literally says “yeah.. ur so beautiful i wanna kiss u rn” DAWGGGGG 😭😭😭😭😭 i hate guys like that so bad like that was just my breaking point and i haven’t talked to him since.

but in the next update i’ll talk about school and stuff bc ohbmy god so much is going on.

i know some of ur followers r probs like who is this insane chick with an insane life liek trust me i hate it too. - 🎀

seated for the lore ☕️

oh no i am not liking this girl already :// who says that about someone's grandparents at a GRAVEYARD?? 😭 that's so messed up, im so sorry she said that love :(

OHHH THATS A CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS WAITING TO HAPPEN 🤭🤭 and he admitted he liked you as a kid so??? feel like that entails that he would be interested in something happening in the future 🤭 but why is the friend cockblocking im so 🫥

BUT NOOOO WHAT :( he didn't reciprocate the energy after you moved back ?? that's .. if he's still ghosting i feel like i wouldn't want to waste any more energy on him 😪 some guys are soo..... also cam??? ew why does he sound so shallow there 😭 listen to a girl when she wants to rant !!! but as you should 🤝

HAHAHA dw im sure they're nodding along with the responses 🫂

[crushed-starlight]

characters in my lore (so far)

(ALL NAMES ARE FAKE) adding them in the order that they appear in my posts, will be updating this when i mention more people n give them silly codenames

star (they/them) - meeee :3 im 19 and in my first year of uni, i have adhd and i'm trying to mask less so its v obvious to people around me. also i think i'm the only openly trans person in my class of like 60 people ( x _ x ) first mention 29 oct 2023

meadow (he/they) - my close friend + current crush !! they're in most of my classes and live really close to me so we usually walk to class together. met via our class group chat n started messaging before we talked in person. super pretty, shares some common interests with me but not a ton first mention 31 oct 2023

jiji (she/her) - my super cool roommate !! also odie's girlfriend. it's an insane coincidence how much we have in common since we didn't know each other before we lived together :) first mention 12 nov 2023

rammie (he/it) - an ex-friend from 2020/2021 that i don't talk to anymore but still miss a lot.. first mention nov 13 2023

goose (she/her) - mine n meadow's other school friend :D lives in the opposite direction to me n meadow (so she can't walk with us), she has a boyfriend that goes to a different school (i've met him, seems chill). her personality is really similar to me which is a big relief first mention 16 nov 2023

winter (he/they) - met them in the first week of uni at a karaoke event, they're super cool and like one of my favorite bands !! we don't intentionally meet up much but we always bump into each other at lgbt events. they also added me to their group chat where i met wave !! first mention 22 nov 2023

odie (he/him) - my friend and jiji's boyfriend !! probably one of the most charismatic people i've ever met, also he speaks german with me which is neat since i'm always looking for more opportunities to practice the language :) first mention 23 nov 2023

fish (any pronouns) - one of my best friends from back home !! i've known them since 2014 and we've been rly close ever since. theyre the best ever i love them :3 first mentioned 30 nov 2023

wells (he/him) - meadow's current crush, some rly cute guy that they met when they visited their friend in another city. from the 2 or 3 pictures i've seen, i get so much gender envy (and just envy in general) for this guy ;; first mentioned 2 dec 2023

comet (any pronouns) - another cool roommate !! they mostly keep to themself, but they have super cool interests n style, and we're probably gonna keep living together in year 2 :D first mentioned 4 dec 2023

wave (she/they/xem) - met xem through winter's gc , i usually run into them at lgbt events and club nights, n xe has the absolute perfect energy for that plus they absolutely share my sense of humor :D

chipi (he/him) - good friend and roommate, he definitely has a crush on me (hes straight up admitted it and openly flirts with me a Lot) but i don't feel the same :( still a really cool friend and i . like attention lmao

wells 2 (he/him) - meadow's friend from back home ,, currently dating (?) meadow

cala (he/him) - super cool online friend and honorary roommate !! we've known each other for a longish time but only started talking more frequently last winter since he joins calls on my server a lot, along with chipi

[the--lysine-contingency]

Personal Ramblings

of all the experiences ive ever had the two i am honestly the most thankful for are the two cross country roadtrips i took during my 20′s. it gets really easy to take your world for granted, but on those trips i really got to appreciate how insanely huge and beautiful the US and by extension the world is. Alot of the places we went were so amazingly beautiful that it was hard to take it all in. It didn’t feel real sometimes. Whether it was driving through the mountains or putting my feet in the cold pacific ocean or hiking through the redwood forest or looking up at night in the middle of remote south dakota and seeing more stars than i ever thought possible, it really made me feel so small but so alive. Like, the world is filled with these kinds of places, with amazing landscapes and plants and animals, and i am so glad i exist sometimes just because i get to see them.  

Also, going to all of these places and seeing the people that live there really puts alot of things in perspective. It reminded me that people are all so different, but at the end of the day we met kind and interesting people everywhere we went. It really reminded me that most of the political chaos around us could probably be solved if people took the time to meet and learn about people different from them. Because honestly, when I think about it, I can completely understand why someone from Wyoming would have a hard time understanding issues that affect me as a city dweller from Ohio and vice versa. They live a completely different life than me. not necessarily better or worse, just different. That doesn’t make either of us particularly evil or ignorant. The system has pitted us against eachother, but im so glad I at least kind of know that the world is filled with mostly good people. 

[biologybutch]

it's a "huh. im a dyke." kind of day