#it's giving that one online friendship we all had that had us frantically talking them down from suicide in math class on a monday morning

[pisshandkerchief]

godddd series three of doctor who was literally just martha having to stop the doctor from finding new and inventive ways to kill himself every week.

[triplexdoublex]

Pornstar

Pairings: Colson x Reader

Warnings/Tags: rough sex, anal sex, face fucking, gagging, spit, spitting in mouth, slight bondange, golden showers, pissing in mouth, slapping across face, being filmed.

A/N: Shout out to Shawnie ( @heytheregreeneyes) for always letting me use her as my OC and being my best friend. Also Colson isn’t MGK in this, just a pornstar so his personality isn’t as cocky as he usually is. I know I’ve mentioned it before but the sex in this is loosely based off my fave porn star Small Hands AKA Aaron Thompson. Hope this was worth the wait. Lemme know what you think! “Open it, open it!” Your roommate and best friend Shawnie stood before you with a gift bag in hand, shaking it excitedly.

“My birthday’s not even until this weekend,” You laughed taking the bag from her. “You sure you don’t want me to wait? It’s only a few more days.”

“ No please, I’ve kept this a secret for long enough, it’s killing me! Just open it!” She exclaimed. “Plus your gonna need time to prepare.”

“Prepare?” 

“C’mom, just open it, open it, open it!!!” She was far too excited. You wondered what it could be that she was so eager to give you. But what you pulled out of the bag just left you with even more questions. 

“Thanks???” You said confused, holding up a sexy red lace bra and matching g- string that tied at hips. 

“That’s only part of it,” she assured you. “What’s your biggest wish?” She tried to clue you in.

“Ummm paying off all my student debt?” You answered still puzzled. “Did you get me a job as a stripper?” You laughed.

“Okay, maybe ‘wish’ was the wrong word to use … hmmm—oh biggest fantasy!” She corrected herself. 

“Oh to fuck my favorite porn star Huge Hands, AKA Colson Baker. You know that — wait … no, no way!”  You exclaimed as your friend started frantically nodding her head yes. “Shut up!!! What? You’re kidding. Like how?”

“Look in the bag . There’s more!” 

You reached into the bag and pulled out a pass of some kind and read it aloud. “Huge Hands/Colson Baker : Exclusive Access, Porn Star for a Day pass” 

“They were super limited, I have no clue how I managed to snag one, but I’m so happy I did! The look on your face right now is priceless!” Shawnie laughed. “It’s probably because you’re the only one I know who’s  crazy enough to actually go through with this.”

“I-I don’t even know what to say. I have no words… thank you.” You expressed your gratitude, still in shock. “I’m really about to have the best sex of my life this weekend! On my birthday yet! Have you seen his fucking cock, it’s huuuge!”

“Yes, many times,” Shawnie chuckled , entertained by how pumped you are. “Or did you forget about all the links of his umm ‘work’ you’ve sent me?” Shawnie wasn’t big on porn herself but she was always willing to take an interest in your latest obsessions, no matter what they were. That’s what you loved most about her. “Turn it over, it tells you more about what’s included on the back.”

You did as she suggested, turning the pass over to read more. “Half hour zoom call day before to privately discuss details, and needs/wants of scene; hair and make up; up to one hour of shooting time; and keepsake autographed DVD recording,” you listed off. “You know I’m gonna watch that everyday for the rest of my life, right?” 

“I’m assuming you’re gonna make me watch it at least once too, knowing you,” Shawnie laughed. 

“Yeah probably,” you laughed as well. “ I got no shame!”

*************

You’re stomach was in knots as you waited for the zoom call to begin; you’d never felt so excited and  nervous at the same time. Shawnie was there with you sitting just out of frame, when the ‘bloop’ of the call came through your computer's speakers. 

“Hi, Y/N?” Colson questioned.

“Yeah, hi. That’s me!” You did a timid little wave.

“Ok good, just wanted to make sure I got the right person before we get started here. Imagine that … Awkward!,” he laughed, and you instantly began to relax; you could tell he was going to be easy to talk to. “Well, obviously you know what I do , but I’d love to hear a little about you. Says here on your forms you’re a college student?”

“Wait, what forms?” You asked.

“The ones you filled out online with your info and kinks and things you wanted to include in our video when you purchased the Pornstar for a day package,” he answers slightly confused. 

“Ohhh, my friend bought me this for my birthday, she must have filled them out.” You responded. “She’s right here. Say hi Shawnie!”

“Hi!” She giggled leaning into frame. 

“Hello. Wow this must be some “friendship” he joked making air quotes. “Because this is a very detailed list. You gotta hear this.” He smirks. “Written in the section about what you hope to include in our scene says— and  I quote: I want Huge Hands/ Colson to absolutely destroy me. I want him to fuck my throat, my pussy and my ass. I want him to slap me around, and spit and piss in my mouth, and anything else he wants to do to me, I’m all for it.”  He choked out a laugh pulling dramatically at the collar of his shirt “Whew, I’m the pornstar here and that’s even got me blushing!”

“Oh my God, Shawnie!” You covered your beet red face.

“What!?, did I lie?” She laughed.

“I mean no, but still. Damn, to hear it out loud like that.” Your eyes bulged. 

“So it’s true then?” Colson asked slyly.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up,” you hid your smile behind your hand, shaking your head in embarrassed disbelief.

“Aye,  no need to be embarrassed, we’re gonna have fun tomorrow, I can tell,” he smiled. “I’m especially excited that your interested in Anal. It’s kinda my favorite. I’m assuming you’ve done it before?” 

“Yeah,” you answered simply.

“Do you enjoy it?” He asked.

“Tell him what your ex said!”  Shawnie blurted out. 

“Oh, boy. I gotta hear this,” he chuckled. “What’d the ex say?”

You inhaled deeply before speaking, “I do enjoy it, probably more than regular sex, if I’m being honest,” you admitted. There was no use trying to be coy now. “Uhhh he actually said I could be a pornstar since I can take a hard anal pounding so well.” 

“Nice!” He exclaimed. “Girl, after my own heart.”

“Jesus Christ, this conversation has me sweating already,” you chuckled standing up to pull your cardigan off. 

“Is that a little tattoo I saw there, peaking out of the top of your jeans?” He asked. 

“Yeah, you wanna see?” You unzipped your jeans without waiting for a response and lowered the top of your underwear just enough to show him. 

“ The Playboy bunny, huh? How fitting,” he teased.

“What can I say, it was my first tattoo,” you giggled “Seemed like that’s what everyone was getting at the time.”

“What else you got going on down there?” He lifted his head as if trying to see more. “Is that a landing strip?” He asked referring to the thin dark stripe of short curls just  barely visible above the band of your lowered underwear. “Can I see?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you lowered them further exposing yourself, your inhibition long gone at that point. “This is just how I normally like to groom. I can shave it completely if you prefer?” 

“Nah, it’s perfect,” he smiled. “Well, I think I have a pretty good idea now of what you like and what we’ll be getting ourselves into tomorrow. Do you have any questions or anything else you want me to know, before we end the call?” 

“I don’t think so,” you said. “Shawnie pretty much laid it all out on those forms,” you laughed. 

“That she did!” He produced a chuckle as well. “I meant to ask earlier, but, since she knows so much about your kinks and what not, have you two ever —“

“ No, just best friends, I tend to overshare, I guess.” 

“Yeah it amazes me sometimes, the things women  share with their friends, but yet guys are always the ones who are known to kiss and tell and brag about their conquests. Females can be just as bad, y’all just keep it on the low a little better,” he stated. “Well, I look forward to working with you tomorrow. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.”

“Can’t wait!” You responded. “Bye.”

“Bye,”

You felt oddly comforted and at ease after the call, no longer a ball of nerves or embarrassment. He made you feel like there was no shame in enjoying the things you did. He was very professional despite the nature of the call; it didn’t feel sleezy or overly salacious; just two consenting adults having a mature conversation about their sexual desires. 

*************************

When you walked out of hair and make-up and onto set, you saw Colson waiting for you on a red leather couch. He was clad in only black dress pants; shirtless — his tattoos on full display. He smiled seductively when he saw you, beckoning you over with a pat to his thighs. You undid your silk robe they had given you and let it slip from your shoulders to the floor, revealing the red lacy set Shawnie had bought you, as you made your way over to him. You suddenly became very aware of all the cameras and other people in the room, as you sat on his lap. Somehow it has slipped your mind that they were all a part of what went into this.

“You get used to it,” he said softly , remembering the way he felt his first time in front of the cameras. “Just pretend they’re not even there— only me and you, okay?” He said brushing a finger along your thigh. “Unless, Shawnie forgot to mention you’re an exhibitionist too, then by all means enjoy them watching us fuck,” he joked, making you laugh. “Don’t forget, if you need me to stop at anytime for any reason, just give me three quick taps,” he demonstrated, tapping your thigh. “Don’t worry about the filming, they can always edit and piece things back together if needed. This is all for you and I want you to enjoy yourself. Oh and happy birthday by the way! It’s today right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “Thank you.”

“Ok, so we’ll just start the scene with some kissing and light touches, and when I feel you’re ready I’ll signal the camera man, he’ll call action, and then we'll be recording.”

“Sounds good,” you nodded your head. He had made you feel so comfortable and relaxed the last bit of nervousness you chalked up to just being slightly star struck; You never thought in a million years you’d get this opportunity.

“Ready?,” he pressed his forehead to yours, staring directly into your eyes, the corners of his mouth turned up into the most alluring devilish grin. 

“Ready,” you echoed back, biting your lip trying to suppress a needy whine. God you were always such a sucker for his killer eye contact in his films, and now you were the one his eyes were soul fucking. You’re heart pounded with excited anticipation as Colson’s face drew nearer to your own. He lightly held your chin as he pressed his lips to yours, parting them to introduce his tongue. It was a welcome greeting, cut short by the breathy “oh fuck ” that involuntarily slipped from your lips.

“”You good?” He laughed softly, a small puff of air the only thing separating your mouths; your foreheads still touching. 

“More...than good,” you spoke in a short choppy sentence trying to compose yourself. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he smirked against your lips, continuing to kiss you. 

You melted into his kisses— slow and gentle at first,  increasing in intensity as he carried on. When he nipped at your bottom lip with a low groan, you lost all innocence, shifting positions to straddle his lap. You gripped the back of his head, as he kissed you and rolled your hips against him, demanding more. And that’s when he knew … that you were ready.  He quickly signaled to the cameraman with a thumbs up, and “Action” was called. 

His hand slipped down from your chin, settling on the highest part of your neck just under your jaw, his fingers squeezing at your pulse points on either side. Roughly he turned your head to the side with a push of his thumb and his mouth began mauling your neck with an appetite for lust, leaving blooming raspberry patches along the descending path of flesh that lead to your breasts. With one hand he expertly undid the front clasp of your red lace bra and took in the sight of you.

 “Perfect,” he whispered into your flesh with a growl, taking one breast  in each hand as he licked between them, keeping his eyes locked on yours. You slid the silky straps of your lingerie over your shoulders, letting it fall, as he took turns going back and forth between each breast treating each of your nipples to light suction and a pleasurable nibble. You let out a moan at his actions and again rolled your hips in his lap, pressing yourself against the hardening bulge inside his dress pants. “Needy are we?” He teased swiftly  spinning you around so your back was to his chest. He dug his chin into your shoulder peering over it as he snatched up the crotch of your panties roughly, tugging the material up between your lips . You canted your hips up chasing after the friction of the coarse fabric against your clit. “You like that, huh?” He pulled them harsher. 

“Mmmm, yes” you squeaked out, nodding your head.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” he growled nipping at your neck. “Look at this pretty pussy,” he shoved the material to the side exposing you, letting his fingers explore your folds as he pleased. “You want my cock right in here huh?” His voice was so gravelly and low as he slipped a finger inside you, only to quickly pull it back out, teasing you. “Taste yourself,” he brought the finger to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around it, as he slid it further into your mouth, his long fingers slipping down the back of your throat. “Oh, god, yes!” He exclaimed impressed by how you didn’t even gag. “Tell ya what—“ he paused to add a second finger to your mouth, continuing to talk as you sucked “If you can suck my dick as good as that—“   he then pulled them back out of your mouth. “I might just have to fuck you right in here too,” he shoved his spit slicked fingers into your ass.

“Yes, fuck, please!” You whined, wiggling your hips, wanting his fingers deeper.  

“You like that? Huh. You dirty little anal whore!” He grabbed your neck with his free hand, keeping you pinned back against him, the fingers of his other hand still moving inside you.

“Yes, yes! I am,” you strained to speak. “Please, please fuck my ass!” You whined impatiently with pleasure. You never heard yourself sound so needy and desperate in your life.

“You sound you pretty when you beg, but you're gonna have to earn it first,” he demanded pulling out his fingers,  leaving you feeling empty. Quickly, you dropped to your knees in front of the couch as Colson got up standing before you. You waited impatiently while Colson unbuckled his belt above you. Once undone he yanked the belt free from the loops with a satisfying ‘whoosh’ that made you pulse between your thighs. You desperately clawed his pants and boxers  down his legs like a feral cat in heat as Colson brought the tip to your mouth, still holding onto his belt in the other. “Open!,” he demanded. “Goooood,” he growled in praise as you did what you were told. You reached up to grab it but ,“no hands!” he smacked them away, and then secured them behind your back with his belt. “Let’s try this again, open!” He spoke harshly. You obliged, opening wide. “Tongue” he barked.  You let it hang from your mouth with anticipation; eager breaths rolling down it like a panting dog eyeing a steak. He teased you, slapping his cock against your tongue before shoving it fully into your mouth. Your eyes prickled with tears as you fought your gag reflex, taking him down your throat. He held your head in place with one hand , the tip of your nose pressed flush against the coarse hair of his pelvis, as he hunched his body forward over yours untying the sides of your G-string. It slipped from your body leaving you completely nude. Colson smacked your ass, then gripped it harshly, making it jiggle for him before finally standing straight up and pulling his hips back to let you come up for air. 

“Huuuuuuhhhh,” you inhaled sharply gasping for breath, letting oxygen penetrate deep into your lungs before Colson stuffed your mouth again. Mascara ran down your hollowed out cheeks as you sucked. You started pulling back out of instinct when you began to gag but Colson held you in place. 

“No, keep it in your mouth,” he instructed condescendingly, looking down at you. “Just a little longer” he promised. You tried your best, Colson letting out a throaty moan every time your raw, used throat constricted around him as he fucked into it. “Mmmgghh,” he groaned, pulling out of your mouth “Goooood girl,” he praised with a smirk, before bending down to give you a sloppy kiss, swapping mouthfuls of saliva. Just as he pulled away he let a long string of collected spit slip from his pursed lips and into your open mouth, where you eagerly accepted it, moaning as you swallowed it down. 

 You let out a breathy “awhhh” as you opened your mouth again, wiggling your tongue enticingly. 

“Such a dirty, fucking whore,” he bent down again and spat directly in your face. He smeared it all over your face with his hand before grabbing you by the neck, pulling you to your feet. “Turn around,” he ordered. You did as he said and Colson undid his belt from around your wrists. Before you even had a chance to soothe your sore wrists with a rub, Colson spun you around and pushed you down onto your back on the couch, your ass teetering on the edge of the red leather cushion. “Spread yourself for me,” he instructed, as he pumped himself. Again you did as you were told; you pulled your legs up, wrapping an arm around each thigh, holding them back as you parted your opening with your fingers.  “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He teased the head of his cock through the glistening mess on display for him. 

“Fuck me,” you said in an inpatient huff, staring into his eyes. 

“Awhhh, yessss,” he groaned out, slack jawed as he sank into you

“Ohhh, shit,” you screamed out , face twisted in pleasure, your eyes slipping shut, at the feeling of him burying himself deep in your cunt.

“Open your eyes. Look at me!” He spoke harshly, cupping your face in his hands as he thrust. You opened your eyes, trying to focus on his, but your vision was  spotted by the intensity of it all. “Feel good?” He pressed his forehead to yours just as he’d done earlier , starring directly into the windows to your soul as he fucked you. You nodded the best you could, but that wasn’t good enough for him. “Words, I want words. Say yes!”

“Yes.. yes,” you responded breathily, biting at your lip.

“Yeah, Mmmghhh, that’s it. Fuck, I like it when you use your words”  he moaned , shifting himself to be more upright. He then spit on the tips of his fingers and brought them to your clit and began rubbing it furiously, his cock still destroying you.

“OH Fuck!” You cried out, wiggling and bucking your hips. 

“You gonna fucking stay still? He roughly grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks. You nodded your head, trying your best to calm your body’s erratic, pleasure driven movements as he thrust. “Words!” He spat, his hand letting go of your face only to connect it to your cheek again with a quick, yet harsh slap.

“Shit! ...Yes!” You corrected yourself once again, Your body was  loving how aggressive he was getting the longer he fucked you and he could tell;  spitting at and striking your face again.

“Turn over!”  He ordered, abruptly pulling out. “Hands on the back of the couch.” He roughly assisted you in turning around , and you placed your hands where instructed. You arched your back and pushed your ass out waiting for him to re enter you from the new position. “This is where you really want it, huh?” He teased his cock over your asshole. 

“Yes!,” you remembered to use your words this time.

“You’re a dirty little fucking anal whore, aren’t you? He asked, he question sounding a lot more like a statement. “Let me hear you said it.” He applied pressure to your hole with the tip, as he yanked back a fist full of your hair.

“I’m a dirty little fucking anal whore!,” you repeated desperately pushing back against him.

“Mmmghh!, That you are!” He confirmed with a groan, snapping hips hips forward, quickly entering you. 

“Uhhhhh, Oh my God!” You exclaimed at the feeling. You never fully understood why you enjoyed anal as much as you did, perhaps it was the pleasurable fullness, the taboo aspect, the fact that you were one of the few woman who were into it, or the way so many men were obsessed with it , and the look on their face when they found out you were more than willing to take it up the ass, but you absolutely loved it, and this time was no different. Every jack hammered thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge, especially when Colson reached around to between your legs adding the friction of his fingers to your clit. The sensation of your ass being stuffed combined with his  touch was the perfect recipe for orgasm and you felt it building every time his cock slid in and out. 

“Yeah, cum for me,” he could feel you tightening around him. His words perfectly in sync with the  jolt of pleasure boiling over in your abdomen and ripping through you with vast intensity. A series of explitives and sounds you’ve never heard yourself make, flew from you lips as your body went boneless under Colson. He quickly pulled out, turned you back over and came across your face with a few pumps of his hand. He collapsed to the side of you briefly, before tugging you off the couch and onto your knees. “I’m not done with you just yet,” he spoke out of breath taking his softening dick in his hand. Your eyes lit up, you knew what he was referring too— the only thing on your list of wants he hadn’t included yet. “Say ahhh!”

“Ahhh,” you echoed the request, letting his golden stream fill your mouth, splash off your tongue and dribble down your chin and body. You giggled, piss spilling from your smile as you looked up at him, all your fantasies now fulfilled. 

“Annnd cut!” Called the director. A few stage hands scrambled to bring you both a towel and small refreshments. “Almost done, just gonna get you guys a little cleaned up, rehydrated, let you catch your breath a bit, and then film the little quick, post scene interview. 

“Ok,” you both answered.

Colson tossed his towel over his shoulders and reached out his hand to you “You, good?” He asked with a faint laugh , watching your hand shake as you drank your water.

“Yeah,” you answered letting him pull you up onto the couch. 

“You were amazing,” he said, rubbing your back. He knew the come down from the adrenal rush of scenes could be taxing, especially from rough ones . “You —“

“Ready,” the director interrupted, cutting him short, and immediately pressing record. “So how was it?” the director focused the camera on you first. 

“Oh my god.. mind blowing,” you answered , still out of breath, adjusting your towel. 

“And you?” The director turned the camera to Colson.

“ Absolutely amazing. She was a natural. I’d love to work with her again.”

[cupofteaguk]

on the road (to you)

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

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

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

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

word count: 27k 

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you receive the invitation in the mailbox. 

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

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

The post in your hand reads: 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then go!” 

“But I don’t have a plus one!” 

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink. “What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.” 

“You know how expensive flights can be.” 

“Of course.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!” 

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

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

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

“There’s more,” You groan out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Karly frowns. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pout. “That seems a little dramatic.” 

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

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

So you sigh. 

“I guess I should text Jungkook, huh.” 

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” You rinse your coffee cup and make your way towards the door. “Did you want to come down with me?” 

Karly stops and gives you a look. “I thought that was already implied.” 

“Well, thanks, that’s really nice—!” 

“Someone has to give you an embarrassing goodbye.” 

“There it is.” You sigh. You don’t say anything as you and Karly exit the apartment and make your way down the hall into the elevator. It only takes a few seconds for the elevator to lower down to the ground floor, where you and Karly exit and make your way to the front of the apartment complex. 

You swear your heart beats just a little faster as soon as you see Jungkook near the front entrance of the building. He’s wearing a pair of black jackets with an oversized denim jacket and currently looking down at his phone—overall appearing so tall and pretty and otherworldly. For a brief second, you are taken by the fact that for the next four days, he’ll be yours. 

Jungkook looks up as soon as he hears the door opening and he smiles. “Hey you.” 

You smile, albeit a little lopsided and dreamy. “Hi.” 

Jungkook walks towards you immediately. “Here, let me help you with that.” He reaches a hand out and gently takes the handle of your suitcase before you can say anything. Just as he’s taking the suitcase from you, Karly emerges from the building. “Oh, sorry about that.” 

Karly waves him off. “Don’t be. I’m Y/N’s roommate—I’m just here to see her off.” 

Jungkook stares at her for a moment, then he snaps his fingers. “Wait, I remember you. You went to college with us too.” He jerks his chin towards you. “You hung out with Y/N a lot, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m Karly.” She holds out her hand for Jungkook to shake. “And you’re right, she and I hung out a lot. We were roommates back then too.” 

Jungkook nods in understanding, before shoving his hand into his pocket. His other hand is still holding onto your suitcase. “Well, I promise to take good care of Y/N.” 

Karly smacks her teeth against the side of her mouth as she points at him. “You’re a good man, Jungkook.” She pauses for a moment, seeming to contemplate a new thought. You recognize the look immediately, and your fingers twitch as if you want to strangle her. Or at least let her know you’re throwing her a look of murderous intent. But of course, Karly doesn’t see it. And even if she had, you doubt she’d care. “But no funny business, alright.” 

You gape at her. “Karly!” 

Jungkook coughs at that. “I-It’s just a drive—y-you don’t need to worry about that.” He does, however, turn away to hide the red that dusts his cheeks. 

As soon as Jungkook’s back is facing you, you whirl around to shoot Karly with a glare. “Karly, you’re lucky I’m leaving for the next four days or I would not hesitate to figure out how to make stuffocation look like an accident!” You hiss out between teeth without taking a breath. 

Karly glares right back. “You’re really dumb, aren’t you? The fact that he recognizes me because he saw you hanging out with me on campus doesn’t strike any chords? Even though, like you said, you guys weren’t really friends?” 

You blink. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Karly widens her eyes. “What the fuck do you mean? Are you dumb with all the boys or just Jungkook?” 

“What do you mean!” You snap back. 

“So, Y/N, ready to go?” 

You whirl back around to find Jungkook now standing in front of you and Karly. He must have finished packing your suitcase in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head. 

So you force a smile. “Of course,” You say, turning to Karly. “I was just saying bye to my roommate.” 

He nods in understanding, sparing one more glance at Karly before seeming to decide against it because he looks away. He’s still a little red at Karly’s previous comment. “We should get going then.” 

“Sure.” You look over at your roommate. “See you, bitch.” 

Karly waves back, grinning wildly. You just know she has several other thoughts she’d like to share with you, but has probably deemed you embarrassed enough. Lucky for you, she keeps her mouth shut. 

Unlucky for you, without Karly to be a barrier of distraction, this leaves you alone with Jungkook. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, still not yet processing the weight of what you’ve just agreed to. You fiddle alone for a second before Jungkook is opening the driver’s side and shifting into his seat. 

There is a silence as Jungkook is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. Or at least have the ground swallow you whole. Holy fuck, what did you just sign up for? 

Your mind somehow takes five seconds to turn into complete shambles that you almost miss Jungkook’s question. 

“Here, I’m giving you an important mission,” Jungkook says, rummaging through the various chords that lay over the center console before producing an aux cord. “Should you choose to accept.” 

He’s got on such a serious expression you momentarily forget about your anxiety. His usage of the iconic line from Mission Impossible makes you laugh—a breathy sort of noise that escapes when your mind is too full. You still take the aux cord. “Oh my god—ever heard of bluetooth?” 

He pouts. “It hasn’t even been five minutes and you’re already insulting my beautiful Celia!” 

You raise both your eyebrows. “Celia?” 

“Yeah, that’s the name of my car.” He catches the bewildered look you give him before angling himself back to face the steering wheel, where he shifts his console into drive and makes a turn onto the main street. “If you’re already weirded out by the fact I have a name for my baby, then you’re in for a very long four days, Miss. Y/N.” 

You giggle, feeling that distraction of nerves start to come off your shoulders. “Not weird at all.” You pause. “Ryan is the name of my car.” 

“Ah!” He holds one arm out in a grand gesture. “You see, not so strange after all.” He steals a glance at you, watching as you’re about to connect your phone to the aux cord. “Wait!” He says, pointing a finger at you. 

You look up at him, wide eyes. 

He’s still holding an arm up. “How’s your music taste?” 

You’re still giving him your surprised expression. “You scared me!” 

He laughs, returning his hand back to the steering wheel. “Sorry, sorry. I have to ask though—I’d rather know now than later, so I can kick you out and not feel as bad about it.” 

Your laughter seems to melt away the last of your nervous energy. “Nice to know you’re putting all your cards out now.” You look down at your phone. “Regarding my music taste… it’s whatever you want dude! I have some lo-fi on here, some pop, alternative, Broadway, anime openings… an ‘everything’ playlist. Honestly, the world is your oyster.” 

“How about we start with your ‘everything’ playlist,” Jungkook suggests. “That way I can judge you immediately.” 

“Were you always this charming, Jeon Jungkook?” You retort. “Or has graduation changed you?” 

“Oh, I’ve always been this charming—you just never noticed.” 

That comment, however, goes over your head as you focus down on your playlist. You look over, selecting the shuffle option as Taylor Swift’s soft music from her newest album fills the air. Another silence fills the car, but it’s much more peaceful and comfortable. You allow yourself to settle further into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. 

“So,” You start after a moment. Jungkook hums to let you know he’s paying attention. “What inspired the name Celia?” 

Jungkook brightens at the question. “She was this character from a book I read when I was younger. The Night Circus? Anyways, the book is about these two illusionists who try to one up each other with their skills of magic, but they end up falling in love. Celia is the name of one of those illusionists.” 

You grin. “Sounds like a very cute crush.” 

Jungkook grins back. 

The drive out of the city continues like this. The pair of you cover the topic of books, of music, of your favorite animes. Jungkook just has this magical power of ensuring the tension dissipates from your mind and stays gone—whether it’s through his relaxed nature or easy-going teasing or his ability to ease the conversation from one topic to the next. It feels like every conversation you and Jungkook had in college, whether vague or circling around classes, all have led up to this moment. It seems like everytime you or Jungkook run out of things to talk about pertaining to a certain topic, you would bring up memories from college and just continue from there. Everything feels natural. 

It continues to feel natural even as you and Jungkook slowly start to see the edges of the city landscape fade away. The high rises fade into shorter buildings and smaller business areas that surround the bustling city scene. You watch as those buildings and business areas become rows of houses. Residential areas in the suburbs, passing by the occasional school or corner restaurants. 

“Before we enter the wide unknown,” Jungkook starts up, breaking the quiet that has enveloped the car. “You want to pick up lunch? You hungry?” 

You haven’t even realized how much time has gone by until you look at the clock on Jungkook’s dashboard and notice that it’s past noon. You widen your eyes at the sight. “Wow, I didn’t even realize so much time had passed.” 

“Yeah, we drove through a few cities. Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?” 

“You wish,” You tease, sticking your tongue out. “So, what, do we stop at a Cheesecake factory or something?” 

Jungkook blinks. “I thought you were poor—why would we stop at the Cheesecake factory? And why is that the first restaurant that comes to your mind?” 

You wave your hands. “It was just a suggestion!” 

“Well, I’m realizing that I should probably let you know that the motel I picked for us to drive to tonight is pretty far out—Google Maps says we probably won’t get there until midnight, and that’s with us driving straight through.” 

“Midnight? Fuck, Jungkook. Will we make it to the wedding a day early or something?” 

“Ha, ha, no. I’ll go over the schedule I planned out tomorrow. Basically, I want to try and cover most of our ground on the first day so we can take the rest of the trip easy. But I thought I’d let you know now that sitting in a restaurant probably won’t be the most time responsible idea.” 

“That’s true.” You look out the window again and see the golden arches of McDonalds appear within your line of sight. “Let’s just stop at McDonalds.” 

Jungkook follows your gaze. “Alright, down. Let’s do it.” 

He exits off the freeway, following down a route that takes him almost immediately towards the McDonalds parking lot. Since this restaurant is still within the lines of the city, it’s not completely deserted. There are a few cars in the parking lot, even fewer cars in the drive-through line. Because of this, ordering the food only takes a few minutes. Both of you get chicken nuggets, sodas, and large orders of french fries. 

“You know, we’re really living like kings,” You comment as Jungkook drives out and makes his way back onto the freeway. “College graduates, both somehow able to secure a job, and still ordering chicken mcnuggets.” 

Jungkook shrugs. “I wasn’t told this is what adulthood would be like. But I’m not complaining. My 10-year-old self is singing in so much joy right now.” He says this as he’s stuffing a handful of fries into your mouth. You laugh, and hand him a napkin. 

You turn the music back on. The pair of you silently munch on your chicken nuggets, as you angle your head towards the side window once again. As Jungkook drives, the numbers of structural spaces become more scattered the longer you both continue down the freeway. 

The anime opening to Haikyuu starts playing when you turn back to Jungkook and realize that he’s trying to close the box of his chicken nuggets. You move right away, taking the cardboard from him and closing it yourself. “Let me know if you need anything, Jungkook. Think of me as your co-pilot.” 

He laughs gently. “Is that the rule of the passenger seat?” 

You shrug, putting the empty box into the McDonalds bag near your feet. “For me at least. Everytime I do one of these drives with family, the person in the passenger seat has to open the snacks, make conversation, and always stay awake with the driver. It’s just courtesy.”

Jungkook is smiling softly now, mostly to himself, but it lights the corners of his eyes that makes you momentarily unable to look away. “You wanna tell me about your family?” 

So you do. Your voice becomes softer as you continue, but Jungkook listens to every single word you say. 

True to his observation, it’s not long before the pair of you are surrounded by the wide unknown. Houses in the suburbs become farmhouses and farms. Conversations fade from your family to another comfortable silence as you continue gazing out the window. Jungkook requests your lo-fi playlist at some point, filling the car with the soft and distorted hums. It allows your mind to wander as you stare out the window. The empty stretches of land around you are filled with greenery, with mountains, cutting right through the perfect blue of the sky above you. 

By 4:00PM, your entire body is starting to feel the ache of having been seated for long hours on end. You feel the tightness in the muscles of your thigh, the bones in your knees. 

Jungkook must be feeling the same, because as soon as a sign for a rest stop comes on, he exits the freeway and pulls into a large parking lot. There’s a restroom on the side, but the area is surrounded by trees with mountains standing in the background. 

Jungkook stops the car. “We should get out for a bit to move our legs.” 

You’re already tugging on the latch that’ll open the car door. “I’m already feeling it in my knees.” You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction, and Jungkook laughs from next to you. 

He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same. 

You turn to face Jungkook. “I’m gonna use the restroom.” You gesture towards the building and earn a nod from Jungkook, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later. 

Jungkook gestures to the trees surrounding the parking lot. “Want to take a walk around the area? Keep the blood flowing to our legs.” 

You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” 

“Why don’t you get started. I’ll catch up.” Jungkook watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around. 

He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name. You turn around. “Jungkook!” 

The sight before you makes you waver slightly, as bouts of shyness overtake you. Standing before you is Jungkook, with his camera in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jungkook grins. “Say hi!” 

You whine, whirling back around and covering your face. “Are you filming me right now?” 

“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jungkook teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. You think I won’t film it?” 

You snort, starting your walk around the parking lot. “Oh yeah, because there aren’t any parking lots and trees and bathroom stops at home.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a second. “That’s not what I meant.” 

You turn to stare right into the lens of his camera. “Then the mountains, right?” 

He’s quiet for another second. “Sure.” He does, however, sound a little disappointed. You do not notice this. 

The pair of you stay quiet as you make your round around the parking lot, taking in the mountains from different angles. The walk around is mostly just to rid of the sensation of your legs falling off, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you finish a complete round, you and Jungkook return back to the car. You watch as he carefully places his camera into his camera bag before you’re both back in your seats. 

Jungkook turns to you. “Ready to get going again?” He looks at the control panel behind his steering wheel. “We’ll probably have to stop for gas in a few hours. But after that, it’s straight to the hotel.” 

You settle back into the passenger seat. “I guess we already have our dinner plans then.” You’re referring to the gas station. 

Jungkook grins. “I’m down for that.” 

And so, the trip continues back on the freeway. With the lo-fi playing in the background, you watch as the sun tears through the blue sky, as the sun finally begins it’s dip to the other side. The singular color once spread across the pane of atmosphere now conjugates around the sun crawling behind the mountain—creating a diffusion of new colors. The corner of the mountain emits an explosion of oranges, pinks, and purples. 

You lift your head from the window, eyes taking in the rainbow of pastels around the now fading sun. “Wow, Jungkook, look at that sunset.” 

He snorts. “You wanna talk about things that you can’t see back in the city?” 

You pout. “But it looks so pretty, see!” You keep gesturing towards the sunset. 

Jungkook relents just enough to spare a glance in the direction. He hums. “Yeah, it’s pretty.” He looks back at the road. “Can’t really find a view like that in the city.” 

You spend a little more time admiring the sunset than Jungkook does, for obvious reasons. You’ve seen a sunset plenty of times before in the past, but the context of this whole situation makes you unable to look away from it. You’re really out here, stuck in a car with someone you have never hung out with for longer than a few minutes. But you are enjoying yourself. There's peace in that. 

So you watch until the sun dips below the mountain, momentarily leaving the sky in a navy color. 

The next time Jungkook speaks, the area around you is much darker, and the sky is nearly black. “You hungry now?” 

You lift your head from the seat, not even realizing you were drifting off. You’re thinking about Irene, wondering if you should have texted her directly congratulating her on the wedding rather than just simply sending in the RSVP. “Sure. We eat as the car eats, right?” 

Jungkook smiles, a gesture you can barely make out from the headlines. “Of course.” 

This goes on for a few more miles until the sign for a gas station comes up. A few other cars linger near the dispensers. Jungkook parks near his choice and gets out of the car. You follow behind him. He’s already sliding his credit card into the machine, and the sight makes you reach over to grab his wrist. 

“I should pay, you’ve been driving all day!” 

He shakes his head, waving you off. “We’ll take turns, okay?” He looks at you. “Buy me dinner tonight too, that sound fair?” 

You pout, leaning back as you cross your arms. “Not really, but I guess I’ll have to accept it.” 

He grins. “You are correct.” 

As soon as the gas pump alerts you of the filled tank, Jungkook returns the pump back to the machine and locks his car. Together, the two of you make your way towards the convenience store, where the bell above rings to alert the workers of your presence. Nods are exchanged as you and Jungkook tear through the aisles to find anything that could satisfy your cravings. You return back with family size bags of hot cheetos and beef jerky, while Jungkook holds his selection of roasted seaweed and Doritos. You select your drinks together before returning to the cashier. 

It’s nearing 9:00PM as you and Jungkook return back to his car, where you slide back into your seats and immediately tear into your bags of salt and sodium. 

“How are you doing?” You ask as Jungkook finishes his first bag of roasted seaweed. 

Jungkook pulls out his phone, scrolling through the final stretch needed to reach the hotel. “Yeah, about four more hours to the motel.” He looks over at you. “I’m good. The salt in this seaweed really helps. How are you doing?” 

You nod immediately. “Great. Perfect.” 

He smiles, shifting his console to drive and pulling out of the gas station. “I’m used to these weird hours. Remember how I told you I traveled around a bit with Mingyu and Wonwoo? There was this one day we only slept for an hour or something? It sucked, I think I almost passed out that day. But yeah, this is honestly not even that bad.” He turns to look at you. “I think the good company helps, too.” 

You roll your eyes, grinning. “You flatter me, Jeon.” 

Slowly, 8PM turns into 10PM. One glance at Google maps tells you that you’re still two hours from the hotel. Even though you’re not the one driving, and although you haven’t endured any physical activity that could result in this exhaustion, you still find yourself growing tired. Something about sitting under the sun, sitting in a vehicle that rocks side to side with a consistent hum—it makes your mind work slowly and therefore brings out the sleepiness quicker. 

You settle deeper into your seat. 

Jungkook giggles from next to you. “You tired already?” 

You pout slowly, eyes closed just enough. “I’m not a morning person and you made me wake up at 8!” 

“Sure, sure, of course.” 

There’s a pause. 

You ponder a question for a moment. It’s something that you would never dare ask Jungkook if you had been more awake and more alert. But you’re tired, and your defenses are lowered, and it means you are more prone to asking questions. “Hey, Jungkook? Did you have any girlfriends when we were in college?” 

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. “Where’s this coming from?” He asks instead. 

You shrug, making a dismissive noise as your shoulders rise up. “Curiosity.” 

A pause. “I went on a few dates, but I never had a serious relationship.” 

“No way.” You lift your head up from the seat. “But I remember seeing you hang out with the occasional girl in the quad, or at some restaurants around the school.” 

Jungkook smiles. It’s hard to read the look in his eyes. They’re focused on the road in front of him, but they seem almost hazy and faraway. “Like I said, I went on a few dates. I did really want to get into a long term relationship in college. A lot of my friends had them, that’s where my parents met, so I was really open to the idea of at least experimenting. There were a lot of girls that I thought were nice, easy-going, or just really pretty, so I tried my hand in the whole dating thing.” 

“And it didn’t work out?” You coax out gently. 

“Not really,” He continues. He steals a glance at you. “We’d go on a few dates, but none of them ever felt substantial. I think girls see me and have a certain expectation—an expectation I couldn’t meet. So I never could picture myself in a long term relationship with any of them.” 

You tilt your head towards him. “There must have been someone…” 

“Well… there was one girl.” Jungkook starts after a moment. He’s not looking at you this time. “We had a few classes together earlier—we weren’t in the same major program. I don’t even know if I’d say we were close or anything. We just had a few classes and saw each other around on occasion. But the conversations we did have during class or outside of class just felt more real. Honestly, I could have been totally wrong about her. I could have just been blinded by all these expectations I was putting on her, which is ironic. But she was the only person I could actually see myself being in a long term relationship with. Or at least try.” 

You hum, still facing towards him in your seat. “Why didn’t you try anything then? You’re a good guy, Jungkook. I’m sure she would have wanted to try with you too.” 

“I guess I was just afraid of pushing it and scaring her off. I thought it was better to stay friends with her than try to pursue something. She never gave me an indication that she felt the same.” 

“And how do you feel now?” 

There’s a pause this time. “I don’t know honestly. We remained friends up until graduation but, uh, never saw her again. I do wonder from time to time how she’s doing.” 

“You should reach out to her,” You advise softly. “Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird.” You grin at him. “You need to make your move.” 

It is then that Jungkook turns to look at you. He looks for a little longer this time, eyes focused entirely on you. Underneath the small crescent of the moon above, you are still able to make out his facial features. His cheeks, his nose, his eyes—the latter is glimmering, like he knows something that you don’t. 

“I’m working on that,” He mumbles softly. You turn your head back towards the road. 

. 

You wake up the next morning feeling groggy, dirty, and messy. Your head lifts up from a pillow you can only vaguely remember falling on, laying on top of a bed you only vaguely remember throwing yourself in. There’s sunlight pouring into the room, but it feels like early morning sun. There’s a crisp in the air that you can feel, that you see out of the window. Right outside is the gathering of bushes and trees, a bright blue sky.

You are in the motel. 

Slowly, you push yourself into a sitting position, until you’re resting atop the white linen of your bed. Across the room, snuggled in his own twin bed, is Jungkook. His lashes are fanning across his cheekbones, his lips are parted, and his breathing is slow and soft.

It isn’t until Jungkook shifts in bed that you realize you’ve been watching him like a creep. Hastily, you tear your gaze away and decide to focus your gaze down. You notice immediately that you are not underneath the blankets. Instead, you are lying underneath Jungkook’s jacket. 

You roll the jacket off your frame, discovering that you are still in last night’s clothes—which explains why you were feeling so groggy and discombobulated. You look across the floor of the hotel room. Your suitcase is near the foot of your bed, and your phone sits on your nightstand connected to your charger. 

Vaguely, you recall what had happened the previous night—how Jungkook drove into the hotel room nearing midnight and the exhaustion was so overpowering that you and Jungkook blindly asked for any room with two twin beds before following through and practically collapsing into your respected beds. 

You definitely did that, which explains why you were on top of the bed, why you’re still in yesterday’s clothes, and why Jungkook’s jacket was your blanket. Stealing another glance at Jungkook: underneath the blankets and in a different t-shirt—you can assume that he was able to take a shower before lying down. 

With a sigh, you push off Jungkook’s jacket and lay it down on the bed next to you. Hoping not to disturb Jungkook, you slide out of bed and lower your suitcase to the ground. After fishing out a new set of clothes, you decide to take a shower. 

The warmth from the shower is the best breath of fresh air you’ve gotten since hitting the road with Jungkook. It feels like your body is going through a battery recharge, and it’s one you take your time with. You step out of the shower, running the towel through your hair and drying yourself enough to slip on your outfit for the day. The towel is thrown around your neck as you step out of the shower, letting the steam follow you out of the bathroom. 

Jungkook is still sleeping as you step out, which is good otherwise you’d feel bad for having disturbed his sleep time. After all the driving he did yesterday, you figure he deserves a few extra hours regardless of what the schedule calls for. 

You continue running the towel through your hair as you pick up your phone. Strangely, you do not remember connecting it to a charger before knocking out, but you pick it up regardless to see the 9:00AM time across your screen. 

There’s a quiet that takes over, in which you’re sitting perched comfortably on your bed and scrolling through your phone as Jungkook continues to drift a few feet away from you. 

About thirty minutes seem to pass before Jungkook is moaning softly to himself, letting out a puff of air as he slowly opens his eyes. His arms extend above him, knocking into the headboard and making him curse softly to himself. His eyes open as he lowers his hands to inspect the damage before immediately looking over towards you. 

He blinks, a tired smile overtaking his lips as he arches his back into a stretch. “Hey,” He greets, voice rough and scratchy and making your heart clench. Damn thing. “You’re awake. You knocked out pretty quickly as soon as we got the room.” 

You laugh. “Yeah, I honestly figured that.” You pick up his jacket, as if he hadn’t been the one to lay it on you those hours ago. “Thanks for trying to help me get comfortable.” You gesture towards the nightstand. “Did you find my charger too?” 

Jungkook sits up as he continues a small round of stretches and yawns. “I did,” He says. “You were barely coherent, but made enough sense to tell me where it was in your bag. Sorry for going through it, by the way.” 

You shake your head, waving him off. “No worries. Thank you again, Jungkook.” 

The pair of you stare at each other for a few moments, before that silence is broken by Jungkook’s phone going off. You look down as Jungkook snatches his own phone off the nightstand. He scrolls through something, before placing it back. 

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You ask, bringing your fingers through your hair to comb and give you a distraction. 

“Oh! Right.” Jungkook swings his legs off the side of the bed. “We have a slower day today. The hotel I picked is only about five hours away? We’re driving through the mountains today, so there’s this place I want to visit that has a little restaurant and everything. It’ll be a cute pit stop.” 

You nod. “Awesome, okay.” You curl your fingers around the strands of now loose strands of hair. 

It takes another hour until you and Jungkook are packed up again and ready to leave. A quick stop to the lobby provides both of you with a bagel and cup of coffee each as your breakfast. All before you’re once again sliding into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car. 

You roll your shoulders before clicking your seatbelt in. “Ready for another long day?” 

“Of course.” He digs through his center console, producing his aux cord. “Your mission,” He says dramatically, not unlike yesterday. “Should you choose to accept.” 

You laugh gently, taking the cord. “You in love with Mission Impossible or something? This is the second time in two days you’re quoting it to me.” 

And this is how your day starts off—talks of Mission Impossible films that bleed into conversations about movies. 

The day at 10 o’clock in the morning is bright and blue as Jungkook drives back onto the freeway and continues down the road. The first few hours consist of the surrounding flatland, of green grass and high mountains all around. Conversations between you and Jungkook are a little more scattered today, but there’s a new level of comfort about the situation. With both of you well rested, it invites a more relaxed atmosphere as you pass the occasional joke or story time between the pair of you. 

As the sun continues to travel higher in the sky, Jungkook’s car starts it’s approach up the mountain. The trees start enveloping the pair of you into a newer, higher world. Not only that, but whenever you and Jungkook reach a clearing, it exposes a dip of lakes, grass, and mountains. And you, always having enjoyed the views of nature, keep an open eye for every single thing. 

You see Jungkook’s choice of destination before he does, and you gasp excitedly. 

Up ahead is a cloud of pink, white, and red flowers covering an entire mountain side. There is an occasional pop of cedar trees amongst the covering of pink, white, and red, but the colors are so poignant that it captures your attention immediately. 

You point to it. “Is that where we’re going?” 

Jungkook grins. “Surprise!” He’s selected this spot before offering the invitation to let you come along, but you’re not complaining. You’ve never been to a flower farm before, despite having heard about them and seen pictures of them for most of your childhood. You continue to watch with wide eyes and bright smiles as Jungkook drives closer and closer to the destination, finally parking in the appropriate lot after paying the fee. 

You’re practically vibrating in your seat with excitement. “Jungkook, Jungkook, c’mon let’s go, let’s go!” You push on the latch and nearly tumble out onto the ground. You straighten to stand on your feet, before meeting Jungkook near the trunk of his car. Surprise, surprise, he pulls out his camera and loops the strap over his head. 

He’s grinning as he closes the trunk. “You’re a little excited, aren’t you?” 

“A little?” You echo, clapping your hands, seemingly unable to wipe the grin off your face. “Jungkook, this is a flower farm! It’s so exciting!” 

So you dart off with Jungkook following closely behind you. The parking lot is located at the top of the flower farm, so the tour around the fields is a downwards one towards the bottom. A small pathway maps out a route for you to follow as you take in the various lines of flowers and colors. One short glimpse at the brochure tells you that these are spring flowers, and that you and Jungkook are visiting during the perfect season. You and Jungkook continue through your makeshift tour in silence, taking in the flowers as well as the view that extends out far beyond your line of sight while Jungkook snaps photographs behind you. Words don’t need to be said when everything around you says it all. 

At the bottom of the field is a cafe, a small brick building with an outdoor seating area facing the now upward flower display. You and Jungkook order sandwiches and soda, and take your seats outside as you wait for your number to be called. There are a fair amount of people today at the field, most of which you can see ahead roaming through the flowers ahead. 

“Have you ever been to a flower farm before?” Jungkook asks, as he glances over at you to see how bright your expression is. 

You smile as you turn to him. “No, never. But thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful here.” 

Jungkook smiles, looking a little smug. He looks proud of himself. “I’ve always wanted to come here, so I’m glad I was able to bring you along.” It looks like he wants to say more, but the number that rests between Jungkook’s fingers is called out, interrupting the conversation. He returns a moment later with the food. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” He says, taking the sandwich plate off the tray and placing it in front of you. 

You take the napkins that are being offered to you. “What’s up?” 

He settles down into his seat. “I didn’t get to return the question that you asked me last night.” 

It takes you a second to realize what he’s referring to. Immediately, you feel yourself turn red as you press your lips together. You were definitely drowsy last night, and hadn’t put too much consideration in the aftermath of asking Jungkook about his college relationships. You instead try for a laugh, as you wave him off. “Well, you don’t need to ask me. It’s pretty boring.” 

“Nonsense,” Jungkook brushes off, taking another bite of his sandwich. “So tell me, did you get into any relationships in college?” 

You laugh, albeit a little nervously. “No, not really. I never even went on any dates before—I guess, like you, I just couldn’t see myself in any long term relationship with anyone that seemed to like me.” 

“Well, how about crushes on your end? Did you like anyone?” 

You gaze over at Jungkook—taking in his wide curious eyes, his soft voice, his contagious laugh. The memories of him waving at you in class, of him catching up to you afterwards to continue previous conversations, of him going out of his way to say hi to you in the library. Jungkook has always been thoughtful, considerate, and soft along the edges. How could you not have crushed on him during college? 

And how could you not continue to have these lingering feelings for him afterwards? 

You think about your own advice you had given to Jungkook. You should reach out to her. Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird. You need to make your move. Could you even follow your own advice? 

You look down before Jungkook could start asking questions about your staring. “There was this one guy,” You start, trying for an uneasy laugh. “But I don’t think he ever noticed me. Well, that’s a lie. I guess we were kind of friends? I think it’s more along the lines of me being out of his league.” 

“That’s depressing,” Jungkook notes as he finishes his sandwich. You hardly even noticed him inhaling the thing. “How could you be out of a guy’s league? You’re so smart and funny and easy to talk to—if anything, a guy would probably be out of your league.” He leans forward, bringing you close enough where you can clearly make out the mole underneath his lip. “Tell me about this punk. So I can tell you he’s not good enough for you.” 

You laugh, keeping your gaze on him. You doubt he’d be so confident had he known about ‘this punk’. “He isn’t a punk,” You remark quietly. “He’s really nice, and really sweet. I was pretty quiet in college. Definitely introverted and kept to myself and had a hard time making friends. Although I would have honestly barely considered him a friend, he just made me feel like my time was meaningful and my attention was valuable to him.” Jungkook’s eyes continue to bore into yours. “If anything, I just wish he knew how much I admire him.” 

Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering across your face, once again displaying that unreadable expression. Yet, despite that, something glimmers in his eyes and he seems to come to an understanding you yourself don’t know about. That glimmer keeps swimming across the orbs, even as he switches his gaze between your eyes. They flicker down to your lips for a second, and your heart stutters in your chest. 

Jungkook coughs, pulling away from you as he seems to hyper-focus his attention on the soda still in front of him. He looks shy as he steals another glance at you from across the table. “He might not have made you feel that important if you were too scared to tell him how you felt.” 

You look down at your sandwich and take another bite. Something about the way he’s staring holes into the side of your face tells you that he knows something that you don’t. You wonder what he’s thinking. 

Jungkook wears that thoughtful expression for the rest of the visit to the flower field, as the pair of you return back to his car and slide back in your seats. He stays quiet as you resume the trip, slowly making your way back onto the freeway and towards your second motel. 

This kind of quiet is different than the previous silences the pair of you have grown to share over the past twenty-four hours. Unlike the comfortable moments of unspoken words, this is more tense. Like he knows something that you don’t. 

You don’t know what to say, or how to break that silence. You don’t know if perhaps you said something you shouldn’t have, or said something to make him uncomfortable. All of those thoughts are not pleasant ones. 

Jungkook stays quiet for most of the drive through the mountain. The music you have selected is loud enough that seems to drown the tense atmosphere, but the questions still press themselves deeply into your mind. What is he thinking about? 

And worse of all: did he know you were talking about him? 

You and Jungkook only speak a handful of times during the trip. He asks you if you need to use the restroom, if you’re hungry, and if you could play him your favorite anime openings. The pair of you have a handful of laughs about your mutual love for Haikyuu and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but most of the drive to the motel is ridden out in silence. 

The pair of you reach the hotel around dinnertime, definitely nowhere as exhausted as you had been the previous night, but just as eager to finally reach your destination. The tension between you and Jungkook has eased slightly, so you can only assume that perhaps he has overcome whatever was bothering him. You yourself have pushed the thought of Jungkook knowing the truth out of your mind. After all, if he had known, you assume he would have brought it up. Or at least called for an Uber to send you home. You assume you would have provided some sort of reaction for the two of you to talk about. But alas, those thoughts follow a conversation that has not happened, and will probably never happen, because you’re sure that you’ll never have to be in a situation that forces your feelings to go out of control once again—! 

“Hi,” Jungkook returns to the hotel clerk behind the desk, a girl to be about your age, who is flickering her gaze between you and Jungkook. A flicker in her eyes tells you that she already has multiple thoughts and assumptions about your relationship. “Do you have a room with two beds?” 

“Oh!” The girl blinks, momentarily looking taken aback. “Of course, let me check.” She turns her attention to the computer screen in front of her. Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m sorry sir, we only have rooms with one bed available—either a full, queen, or king-size mattress.” 

Jungkook makes a noise in the back of his throat as he taps his credit card on the desk. Just watching from the side, you notice how he swallows, how he looks down, how his cheeks turn red. He turns to you after a moment. “D-Do you, uh, do you mind?” 

It takes you a second to realize what Jungkook is asking. He’s asking if you’d be okay with sharing a bed with him. Him: your college crush, the guy you never really lost feelings for. 

You turn red too. “U-Um…” You press your lips together and swallow. “S-Sure,” You manage, waving your hands out in front of you. “I-I don’t mind. I-If you don’t mind, of course.” 

“I-I don’t mind either.” Jungkook, however, looks like he’s about to combust. He looks a little lost again. He blinks once, twice, and seems to realize that he’s supposed to hand the woman behind the desk his card. “Uh, whichever room is the cheapest.” 

“That’ll be the room with the full-size bed.” She flickers her gaze between the two of you. “If that’s okay.” 

“O-Of course,” He stammers back, allowing the girl to take the card. He looks at you. “Do you mind staying here? I have to go to the bathroom real quick.” 

“S-Sure, go ahead.” A part of you wants to hit your head on the desk. What is happening to you? Why is the mere thought of sharing a bed with Jungkook turning you into a pile of mush? You’re a grown ass woman—! 

“So the two of you on vacation or something?” The woman behind the desk asks. She’s still in the middle of scanning Jungkook’s credit card. 

You try for a smile. “Kind of, we’re going to a friend’s wedding.” 

“I see, that sounds fun.” She smiles. “You know, I have to be honest, I was a little surprised he asked for two beds. You guys would make a cute couple.” 

At the label, you start to turn red. “O-Oh n-no, we’re not a couple at all. That’s very flattering, b-but yeah we’re not together.” 

“Oh, I know,” The girl rebuffs. Her smile looks more like a grin. She places Jungkook’s credit card on the desk, along with a receipt and a pen. “I hope the full size bed will change that.” She gives you a wink. 

You part your lips, unsure what to make of the situation. “What—!” 

“I’m back,” Jungkook says, sliding up from behind you and making you jump slightly. “What did I miss?” 

“Uh…” You wonder if your face is too red or not. It certainly feels that way. “Here!” You push him forward towards the desk. “She scanned your credit card. You just need to sign and we’ll be on our way.” 

If Jungkook notices the stiffness in your posture, he doesn’t comment as he leans forward to sign the receipt. Just over Jungkook’s shoulder is the worker, looking at you with a now shit-eating grin across her lips. Several questions ping through your mind, but you don’t get to ask any of those because Jungkook is turning around with his credit card in hand. 

“Uh, ready to get going?” 

“Sure!” You say, voice a few several pitches higher and you return to wanting the ground to swallow you whole. Jungkook leads the way out of the lobby, and you dare one last glance back towards the woman behind the counter. 

She’s waving a slip of paper in her hand. 

You turn back to Jungkook. “Hey Jungkook, give me a second. I think we forgot to grab something at the desk.” 

It sort of feels like a walk of shame to reach the worker behind the counter, who is still grinning at the sight of you and your internal struggles. She hands you the slip of paper, mouths something that makes you go red, before you’re turning back towards Jungkook. “Good luck,” She had whispered. 

Before you’re reaching Jungkook, you open the paper. At the very top is the WiFi password. 

Underneath the WiFi password, in what you can only assume is her handwriting, is one sentence. Fate said you guys only get one bed- don’t worry, I think he likes you too :-) 

“What was that about?” Jungkook asks. 

You shove the paper into your pocket. “The WiFi password,” You supply. 

The walk to the hotel room is quiet as Jungkook leads the way through the different hallways, corridors, and numbers on plaques. That tense silence is back as he guides the two of you, stopping only when he reaches the number that matches the one on the index card. He gives you a look, and inserts the card key into the slot. The door beeps, and he pushes open the door to find, true to the word of the lady behind the counter, one full-sized bed in the middle of the room. 

For the first few hours, it’s easy to ignore that full-sized elephant in the room. Jungkook takes out his laptop and you guys watch your favorite season of Haikyuu together—it’s season two—or you guys linger about on your phones. It isn’t until nighttime falls into your bones, into your minds, that you realize that you really need to address the new situation. 

“I’m gonna take a shower first, if that’s okay,” You say, already sliding off the bed to gather your belongings from your suitcase. Jungkook is humming along to the Haikyuu ending song, but he stops long enough to accept you taking the first shower. He watches you as you fish pajamas out from your suitcase. “Hey, Jungkook…” You start. “Are you sure you’re cool with this?” You gesture to the bed. “I can sleep on the floor. They give you extra bedding for a reason…” 

“What? No, of course not, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” He moves until his knees are pressed into the mattress. “And I’m cool with this. Promise.” He hesitates. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” 

“Y-Yeah,” You manage, straightening into a standing position with your clothes in hand. “I don’t really move around when I’m sleeping. And I trust you, Jungkook.” You keep your gaze on each other until you break it first, turning around to step into the bathroom. 

You step out many minutes later, hair freshly washed and feeling much more relaxed than before. Jungkook has moved to the desk in the corner of the hotel room, typing away at some emails on his laptops. He does, however, whirl around upon hearing you exit the bathroom. The sight of you in your sweats, t-shirt, and damp hair makes his eyes linger. 

You merely tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can go now,” You say quietly. 

Jungkook nods. “Thanks.” 

Breaking that eye contact again, you turn to the bed and lift the blankets to slide under the covers. You rest your head on the pillow, and immediately start to drift away. 

You are brought back after what only feels like a few minutes, when you hear a light switch turn off followed by the blanket next to you lifting up. You turn slightly towards the other side of the bed. “Jungkook?” You whisper. 

A stillness. “Ah shit, I’m sorry. I was trying to be sneaky.” 

“Mmm…” You mumble softly, turning your body 180 degrees in order to face him. You can vaguely make out the shadow of Jungkook’s outline. “Don’t worry. I’m a really light sleeper. Come on in.” 

There is a shift in the blankets until you feel the additional weight of Jungkook’s figure crawling in next to you. The knowledge that Jungkook is lying right next to you turns your blood hot both with anxiety and because Jungkook brings in a new wave of heat underneath the covers. For a cool spring night, it’s comforting. But also further anxiety-inducing. 

Jungkook shifts and even though the pair of you are on opposite sides of the bed, you can still feel the warmth radiating off his body. In the silence of the hotel room, you can hear Jungkook breathing. 

“Is this okay?” It’s Jungkook asking. His voice is quiet, soothing, and very close to your face. You realize that you guys are facing each other. 

Still, you have to give an answer. “Y-Yeah,” You reply softly. “Goodnight, Jungkook.” 

“Goodnight.” 

You turn onto your back. You try to go to sleep, you really do. But your heart is pounding, and rather than the blood filling your ears, it’s the sound of Jungkook’s breathing. 

“Y/N, you still awake?” Jungkook asks softly. 

You snort. “It’s only been a minute.” 

Jungkook smiles. “Sorry. I just… I have a question. A thought, actually.” 

“What is it?” 

“Well, okay, I don’t want to come off as arrogant or self-centered, but it’s just a question and just this thought that I have…” 

“Jungkook.” You turn back to face him. “You can ask me the question. I don’t mind.” 

“Well, alright.” Jungkook shifts. He’s a little closer now, you can make out the outline of his face. Everything looks slightly more defined now, definitely a result of your eyes adjusting to the darkness. “When you were talking about the guy you had a crush on… you know, when I asked if there was someone you were interested in while we were in college.” 

“Oh, I remember.” Your heart feels fuzzy, even though you have no idea what he’s going to ask you. 

“Okay, um. I guess I just wanted to know. Were you talking about me? 

The world seems to stop tilting on its axis—and all the consequences of that follow along. Everything around you slows to a grind: your heart stops in your chest, and all the air drains out of your lungs. You hold your breath, feeling as if your body has just been dipped underwater. Thousands of thoughts ping through your mind. You feel like that episode of Spongebob where all the file cabinets in your brain are catching aflame. You suddenly feel like you have no thoughts, but too many thoughts at the same time. 

Above all, one question rises above all the rest: how did Jungkook know? 

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear your name being called. It isn’t until you feel a hand at your shoulder do you jolt. “H-Huh?” 

“S-Sorry.” Jungkook sounds a lot more nervous now. “You weren’t responding.” 

“I… I was thinking,” You reply lamely. 

A pause. “What’s your answer?” Were you talking about me?

You swallow. Should you tell the truth? Or should you deny everything with the hopes that Jungkook will forget this conversation ever existed? 

The words spill out before you can think of a proper answer. “What if I was?” 

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “Well…” He starts up again, inching forward towards you. Every move he makes is amplified in your ear, every squeak of the mattress and every rustle of clothing echoed in the small space that is your hotel room. “I’d be kinda frustrated, to be honest. Because when I was talking about my own crush, it might have been about you.” 

At Jungkook’s confession, the world seems to come crashing down on you as everything around tries to catch up to you. Immediately, you assume that perhaps you hadn’t heard Jungkook correctly, or maybe you’re completely misinterpreting what he’s trying to say to you. 

In a perfect world, maybe you’d say something witty and smart. Maybe you’d play along until he snapped. Maybe you’d be fluent in courting talk and understand exactly what he’s trying to say to you. 

But this isn’t a perfect world, and you are neither witty nor smart. You most certainly are not aware of flirtations. You need boys to be as straightforward as possible. Which is why you utter the most comprehensible: “What?” 

You feel a warmth at your hip—Jungkook’s hand against your skin. “Ahhhh.” Jungkook starts, not at all sounding fearful but rather casual. Still the underlying case of shyness, however, because this is still Jungkook. “I forgot you sometimes need simple things spelled out for you. Remember when you emailed our Arts History professor three times because you kept forgetting what font she wanted the assignment in?” 

You flush—Arts History was the class you and Jungkook were forced to pair up together for. Maybe you would have protested it more had you known Jungkook would turn out to be a little shit over it. “That was a one time thing! You’ve been bringing it up for as long as I’ve known you!” 

Jungkook giggles, pulling you closer so your face is against his collarbone and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Shh, okay, okay, I’m sorry.” 

Your face is burning at the feeling of your bodies so close together, your fingers pressed against his shirt and your nose against his skin. He smells like floral fabric softener. “Jungkook…?” You whisper softly, breath fanning his neck. 

Jungkook tilts his head to rest gently against your temple. He stays quiet for a moment, absorbing the moment. “If you did have a crush on me in college, it would be frustrating. Because I had a crush on you too.” 

This time it’s straightforward, just like how you’ve always wanted it. Why can’t you seem to reply? 

“Oh.” 

“I know.” 

You curl your fingers around Jungkook’s shirt. “What if…” You start slowly. “What if I said I still had those feelings?” 

Jungkook seems to think about his answer. “I’d say that I do too.” 

You swallow, nodding in a way that allows him to feel the movement. “Okay then.” 

Without a warning, Jungkook moves to curl his whole arm around your frame. This brings you even closer together. He noses your hairline. “Go to sleep,” He whispers softly. “We can talk about this tomorrow.” 

A part of you wants to say no—that holding off on confessions isn’t what happens in novels or tv shows or movies. But the larger part of you knows that you won’t be able to have a proper discussion like this when you are weak, tired, and vulnerable. Your heart stalls at his consideration, allowing yourself to be content just like this: asleep, cuddling with Jeon Jungkook as you’ve imagined since you first developed your crush. 

It’s much better than the fantasy. 

.

You wake up the next morning with Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, his soft breathing against your neck and his lips dusting the skin of your neck. There’s a new kind of comfort you find being held like this, and a part of you wants to melt back into his arms. You think you can pretend to be asleep just to stay here a little longer, but the urgency you have to pee and get the day started becomes too pressing. 

Your previous assumptions of Jungkook being a heavy sleeper are confirmed as you manage to untangle yourself from him without so much as a whine from his end. By the time you finish with the bathroom, Jungkook is just beginning to push himself into a sitting position. 

You linger near the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” You greet, almost nervously. For good reason to—the memory of last night is vague but defined well enough where you aren’t sure what the next course of action should be. It’s not like your college ever offered a course about what to do when your crush admits to liking you back. 

Jungkook looks at you from across the bed. He gives you a small smile, a reassuring one. “Morning,” He says back. “How did you sleep last night?” 

You twist your hands together. “Pretty good, actually. How about you?” 

“Me too.” He adjusts his position so he can crawl over to you. He slides his legs over the side of the bed right next to you. He brings his hands towards you, palms up. Although he’s close enough to reach you, he doesn’t. Instead, he asks: “Can I?” 

You don’t say anything, you merely rest your hand in his. He tugs you towards him, stopping only when you’re standing between his legs. He still keeps his fingers curled around yours, turning your hand up to play with your fingers. 

He looks up at you, a soft smile across his lips. “Hi.” 

You smile back. “Hi.” 

He laces your fingers together, resting them between your bodies. “I guess now for the bigger question… how are you feeling?” 

You look down at your hands, deciding you like the way his larger hands cover yours. “H-How did you know I was talking about you?” You ask instead, looking over at him. 

Jungkook shifts his gaze away for a moment. “I don’t know,” He admits earnestly. “You were just looking at me back at the flower field and I had a feeling. And I really think a part of me was hoping you were talking about me.” 

Unable to help yourself, you feel the side of your mouth quirk up into a small smile. “What would you have done if I wasn’t talking about you?” 

He exhales in a laugh. “Honestly, I might have just driven out in the middle of the night and gone over a bridge or something.” 

You laugh, trying to diffuse your smile by pressing your lips but it only works so well. “I was really surprised to hear you liked me back.” 

“Of course!” He exclaims, looking momentarily shocked that you would feel this way. “I wasn’t messing around when I said you were smart, funny, and easy to talk to. That’s what made me really like you when we first met. Whenever we talked you just felt so real and approachable—like I could just be myself around you. And even now, seeing you after graduating and realizing you’re still all of those things. It just makes me like you more.” 

You feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You’ve never thought of yourself in the way Jungkook is describing you—you always just assumed that you were in the background, that you’d never be enough. 

Jungkook is looking at you, his eyes big and wide and full of truth. “Is that weird?” He asks. 

You shake your head immediately. “No, no it’s not weird at all.” You shrug a shoulder, giving him a meek smile. “It’s really sweet, actually.” 

Jungkook grins at that, heaving out a breath as a sign of his lowered defenses. “I think you’re sweet too.” 

You groan at that, throwing your head back as Jungkook breaks into a series of giggles. “You’re corny.” 

“You’re not complaining,” He points out. This is true. 

You shrug. “I guess that means I’m expecting us to catch up on three years of terrible flirting.” 

The smile slides off his face. “You’re right.” He brings your joined hands closer together until your whole body is standing closer to his. “Can I ask to kiss you?” 

The four letter K word makes your heart stutter in your chest once more. Your hands are so close to his chest that you can feel his own heart beating, and the thought of Jungkook being equally nervous for this gives you enough confidence to return his question. “Why don’t you ask and find out?” 

He smiles, a bunny smile that crinkles his eyes. “Touche. Can I kiss you?” 

You smile back. “Yes…” You whisper, leaning down just enough for Jungkook to crane his neck up in order to meet each other halfway. It’s just a closed-mouth kiss, a soft weight against your lips.

It’s one that Jungkook pulls away from before you can really enjoy it, really ponder asking for more. “Sorry,” He says immediately, pointing to his mouth. “Morning breath.” 

The pair of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into laughter. That tense atmosphere is gone, replaced inside with that previously casual and comfortable air—as you step away from Jungkook and let him get his morning started. Except this time, the air is filled with open lingering stares, shy smiles, and Jungkook taking your suitcase wordlessly as you exit your hotel room. 

By the time you load into your car, it’s nearing noon and the gas tank in Jungkook’s car is almost empty. The pair of you agree in another champion’s breakfast—gas station food. 

“I swear, we’re both going to have terrible breakout tomorrow during the wedding,” You point out. Despite your words, you still tear into your Nacho Cheese Doritos with the aggression of a gorilla. “I’m going to photograph horribly. Irene will be so embarrassed.” 

“You photograph horribly? Inconceivable!” He says the word just as it is said in The Princess Bride, which makes you burst into another fit of laughter. 

The afternoon pans out the same way it has for the past two days. Jungkook drives onto the freeway, you decide the music, and the conversations fade in and out. Neither of you talk about the events of the previous night or of what happened in the morning—but the way Jungkook reaches out to laces your fingers together is more than enough. 

The town Jungkook has selected to stop for the evening is a five hour drive from the wedding venue—and it’s an actual city space this time, with restaurants and grocery stores and apartments. As soon as Jungkook tells you this information, you are bursting with excitement. It’s been two days since the pair of you actually stopped and lingered in a city environment and you miss it. 

It takes another whole day of driving to reach the city destination, as the first alert you get is the increasing number of cars that have joined you on the freeway. These more busy freeways guide you into the city, where you are greeted with the first sight of buildings, sidewalks, restaurants, and parking lots in days. 

Even though most of these landmarks are simple flashes that you and Jungkook pass through on the way to the hotel he has selected, you keep your eyes glued out of the window in order to take in as much of the surrounding area as you can. You continue to watch as the immediate high rises become more sporadic and spread out, until he’s finally pulling into the hotel. The sun is just setting behind the many buildings along the horizon. Lots of other cars are parked in the parking lot. You can hear other cars, buses, and trunks driving around the background—and you feel strangely comforted by this discovery. 

“Are you okay with sharing another bed today?” Jungkook asks as he guides the pair of you into the lobby. “I may or may not have called to make a reservation earlier when you were in the bathroom.” 

You laugh, feeling giddy at the thought of Jungkook taking the initiative to continue progressing your now slow-growing relationship. “Was that all they had left?” You ask teasingly as you make your way to the counter. 

Jungkook smiles down at you. “Perhaps I didn’t ask…” 

Your lips part. “Jungkook!” 

“What?” He’s laughing now. “I think I’m gonna bow out of any excuse to cuddle with you now that you’ve given me a taste of what that’s like?” 

You’re gasping in the midst of your laughter. “You’re terrible,” You manage. 

So Jungkook checks in—true to his word, he has reserved a single full-sized bed for the room. 

“Hey, so, I was thinking,” He starts as he’s following the map provided to him by the employee with directions about getting to his appropriate room. This hotel is slightly bigger than the off-the-road ones you and Jungkook pulled into, so it takes a little longer to find the room. After a few minutes of turning the map over, you two eventually find the room. 

“What’s up?” You ask as you push open the door and roll your suitcase into the space, with Jungkook following closely behind you. 

“Come here,” Jungkook requests gently, watching as you let go of your suitcase and make your way towards him. You move into his space easily, allowing him to hold you by the waist. “Since we’ve both admitted to missing out on three years of courting, flirting, and dating—I think we should go out to an actual restaurant to have an actual date.” 

You lean back slightly and give him a slightly shocked look. “Really?” 

“Yes!” He says. “Besides, someone has to put their foot down and say that eating only McDonalds and gas station hot dogs is not the right way to go.”

You laugh at that. “True, but we were having so much fun!” 

“Nope!” He exclaims, shaking his head. “The foot is going down, we’re going to an actual restaurant for dinner. Get changed, take a shower, whatever you need to do to freshen up.” There’s a finality in his words as he finally steps away from you, the smile of sweetness still on his lips. 

The restaurant Jungkook picks after scrolling through Yelp and other lists of recommendations is a corner Italian place that apparently serves the best Linguini and clams—a dish that you really enjoy. So you put something together much more presentable than your usual round of sweatpants and baggy t-shirts—replacing the sweatpants with black jeans and giving yourself a cream colored cropped sweater. It makes Jungkook’s eyes widen all the same. He’s clad in his usual black jeans and oversized coat that is perfect for the spring breeze. 

Since the restaurant is within walking distance of the hotel, you and Jungkook agree to chill off on the driving just enough to stretch your legs and actually have a walk for once—all while celebrating the final night of the road trip. 

“I was a little worried about this at first, to be honest with you,” You admit softly to Jungkook, long after the pair of you have been seated in a corner booth and have ordered your food. You’re circling the pasta noodles around your fork, and Jungkook is watching with a touch of amusement and adoration in his eyes. 

“Not gonna lie, so was I,” Jungkook returns back with an equally meek smile. 

You gape at him. “You invited me though!” 

“I did!” Jungkook exclaims with a laugh, looking down at his own order of food. “Me inviting you was honestly a spur of the moment thing. Me catching up to you, however, was me trying to be brave.” 

“You seemed pretty brave throughout most the trip,” You point out 

Jungkook shakes his head, situating his arms in a cross motion. “Nah dude that was just all a very well thought out facade. A part of me was expecting it to go terribly so I could at least walk away knowing that I built you up in my mind and the fantasy of that was better than the reality.” He must see the look of uncertainty casting a shadow over your mind because he immediately cuts back in. “Just so you know, the reality is much better than anything I could have conjured up.” 

You lower your chin slightly, staring over at Jungkook. You bring one shoulder up into a half-hearted shrug, maybe to showcase a certain level of carelessness. “What were you conjuring up then?” 

“Oh, I don’t know if you want to go there right now,” He rebuffs, looking a little red in the cheeks. “I think we should start slow. Refer to the PG thoughts, if you will.” 

You laugh, focusing your gaze momentarily on the last of your pasta. You had sorted through the clams, since they weren’t your favorite things to eat. “Jungkook, are you admitting to me that you have thoughts above PG?” 

“Oh shit, that wasn’t my intention!” 

You giggle. “I’m messing with you, Jungkook!” 

He pouts. “Don’t do that.” He rests his hand on the table, palm up, inviting for you to take it. “I just want to spend today with you, and take it slow—I just want to hold your hand and kiss you and lay with you and just be with you in the way I couldn’t be with you in college. Is that too weird?” 

You look down, pressing your lips together, trying not to squeal and definitely not trying to throw yourself off the chair. You look back over at him and squeeze his hand. “That’s not too weird at all. That’s actually really sweet. Honestly, those are things I probably would have asked for regardless. I don’t really know the rules of dating—I never really went out that often.” 

Jungkook smiles sweetly back at you, he brings your hands up to kiss the back. “I’ll give you a few pointers then, let’s get going.” 

After the check is paid for—it ends up being a split between the two, it’s the best compromise you can come up with considering he wants to take you out but you want to pay him back for driving this far—the pair of you emerge back into the city space. Jungkook’s hand is still wrapped around yours, using that connection point to pull you close to him. 

“Now this move,” Jungkook explains, beginning to lead you both back to your hotel room. “Is when the gentleman walks the lady home, because their date went by smoothly and he wants to see her for as long as possible.” 

You laugh. “I’m enjoying this so far.” 

The pair of you continue down the sidewalk, using the time it’ll take to walk back to the hotel to walk off the food in your stomach. You resume your conversation, giggling and laughing all the same until you’re walking through the lobby of the hotel and slowly making your way to your hotel room. 

Right before you step inside, Jungkook stops you. “Normally, the front door is where the gentleman drops the lady off, and they talk about how well the date went.” 

“Oh, well, in that case, this was so nice, Jungkook,” You remark, beaming at Jungkook’s own smile. “I’m glad you convinced me to eat real food for once.” 

“You’re welcome—I had fun too.” Jungkook slides closer to you. You, completely hypnotized by his next movements, watch as he cups your face with his hand to angle you upwards. “This is the part where we have a first kiss, because the stars are lined up for this. And because I really want to.” 

You smile, curling one of your hands around the wrist near your face. “Seeing as we’ve already had our first kiss, how about a second one?” 

Jungkook smiles back, eyes lidded towards your mouth. “I guess that’ll work.” His lesson on dating, it seems, is done, as he leans in to kiss you. You suck in a breath as he covers your lips with his. It’s deeper than the first time he kissed you—which had been more of a peck with a side of morning breath. But now you’re both awake, tasting like wine, and drunk off each other. It’s a more real kiss. 

You whimper as Jungkook’s tongue runs over your bottom lip, before slipping into your mouth. It’s a sensation you can get completely lost in, until Jungkook pulls away. 

Under the hallway light, you can make out his flushed cheeks, his wet lips, his dark gaze. 

Immediately, Jungkook is pulling you to his side before he starts digging through the pockets of his jeans. “Alright, we’re going inside right now.” 

You lean into his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to invite you inside, Jeon? What happened to giving me pointers on first dates?” 

“Screw that,” He retorts, practically shoving the hotel door open. He turns around to face you. “Now, this is our hotel room. And I want to kiss you in private.” 

Your laughter is drowned out as Jungkook tugs you by the wrist into the room. 

.

Under different circumstances, waking up next to each other after a first date would hit you with a wave of anxiety and maybe even a vague sense of embarrassment at letting someone you like see you in such a vulnerable position. 

Right now, however, under the morning sunlight within the covers of your shared hotel bed, you just feel happy and content. You wake up on your side, with an arm resting over Jungkook’s chest and his fingers curling around your own. There is an immediate feeling of giddiness that overtakes you, because it’s hard for you to believe that this is happening. Someone you’ve liked and continue to like actually returning your feelings? That has always been such a foreign concept to you. 

You don’t know how long you continue laying in bed until Jungkook starts shifting next to you, signalling his wake. You watch as his eyes slowly peel open, laced with grogginess but still looking unfairly attractive that there are butterflies in your stomach. 

Jungkook lets out a sigh, as he looks down at you. A tired smile takes over his expression. “Morning.” 

“Good morning,” You reply back, voice soft and a little shy. “Happy wedding day.” 

That is true. Today is Irene’s wedding—an event you and Jungkook will arrive at in nearly five hours. There’s a strange sort of knot that is beginning to twist itself in your stomach, a knowledge that something good is coming to a close but a fear in the unknown as to what this would mean regarding your relationship with Jungkook. Neither of you have laid down groundwork for your relationship—if this even is a relationship to begin with. You may be inexperienced with this kind of stuff, but you’re sure that one date and making out on a hotel bed doesn’t immediately constitute an exclusive relationship. 

If Jungkook notices the tension in your form, he doesn’t say anything. He kisses your temple and grumbles something about wanting to get the day started. He mentions something about not having to worry about getting dressed for the wedding straightaway—that he has reserved a room at the hotel some of the guests of the wedding would be staying at, which is where you will be getting ready before the event. You nod, hearing pieces of his words, but a lot of it gets lost in your own thoughts. 

Is it okay to ask questions about where you stand with Jungkook? Is it foolish of you to even bother wondering? You’ve seen movies and have had conversations with friends about guys who dismissed questions like that as ‘moving too fast’. You don’t want to scare Jungkook off, but you also need to know that you’re not wasting your time.

You remain in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you sigh and try to organize through your thoughts. You also try to break down how the past three days have been. 

However, trying to do so proves to be a difficult challenge, as Jungkook’s phone starts buzzing excessively on his side of the nightstand—it seems like he is getting a series of text messages from someone. 

You know you shouldn’t be looking or prying, but the constant binging of alerts only eats at your nerves more. You turn in the bed towards Jungkook’s side, picking up the device to search for the silence switch along the sides. The screen, however, lights up and you immediately see a name you have not seen or heard since college. 

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts 

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think 

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :) 

You freeze, feeling your body overload with information and questions come flooding into your mind. At first, you think you reread the message wrong. You think that maybe Jennie is texting the wrong person. But after the third or fourth time, you realize that this isn’t a dream. That Jungkook already has a plus one to the wedding, and it isn’t you. 

More than that, it’s Jennie. 

Jennie is also someone you went to college with, and someone that you only heard of between the grape vines and therefore is someone that is only vaguely recognizable. But you definitely know her. Jennie had been one of Irene’s friends, president of her sorority—and labeled some of the nicest people on campus. Even just from rumors and the one time you ran into her around the school, you can see it. Jennie is nice, beautiful, friendly, and outgoing. All the things you are not. 

And now, she’s Jungkook’s plus one to the wedding. And Jungkook did not tell you. 

Your lips part as your head starts to spin. Why didn’t Jungkook tell you he already had a plus one to Irene’s wedding? Maybe he did not owe you the explanation, and maybe you should never have assumed he’d be your plus one to the wedding. 

The thought of you assuming Jungkook would be your date to the wedding fills you with a vague mortification—why did you have to go ahead and assume? 

Your mind starts to spiral as you fall into the depths of overthinking. Now you were set to attend a wedding alone, with no plus one, and surrounded by people you don’t know. All while watching Jungkook sit with Jennie, eat with Jennie, and dance with Jennie. 

Holy fuck, holy fuck, what were you going to do? You can’t go to this wedding alone. You can’t confront Jungkook about this—you’re not even supposed to be touching his phone or looking through his phone. He would definitely be upset. How could he not be? 

At once, the tears collect in your eyes. How could this be happening? Seconds ago, you had been so content and happy, excited to attend this wedding with Jungkook. Seconds ago, you had been confident about your feelings, and Jungkook’s feelings in return. From all the kisses he showered you in, the date, the talking, the confessing—how could you not feel that way? 

Had Jungkook just been pulling your leg? After all, he did have three years to talk to you, to go out with you. Why hadn’t he said something sooner? Is he here right now: talking to you and laughing with you because he hadn’t found anyone and knows that you would do anything for him? 

In the background, you can vaguely make out the shower in the bathroom turn off, signalling Jungkook’s near completion with the bathroom. At once, it feels like you’re in a car that has enforced sudden breaks and has sent you flying against the dashboard—like you can’t breathe. 

Hastily, you rest Jungkook’s phone back on the nightstand and roll back over to your side of the bed. You blink quickly, trying to rid of the tears that have collected in your eyes while also trying to calm the lump in the back of your throat. 

Just as you’re starting to get a handle back on your feelings, the bathroom door opens and you can vaguely make out Jungkook’s humming as he exits. The fact that he sounds so carefree while you’re hurting only a handful of feet away almost makes the tears come back in. But you’ve learned how to hide your emotions well. 

Jungkook’s soft laugh brings you out of your thoughts. “Still in bed?” He asks jokingly, sitting on the edge and placing a hand on your ankle. You try not to stiffen at the gesture. “You know, even though we’re getting dressed at a different hotel, we still need to get going.” 

You take in a breath. “I’m comfortable here,” You exclaim, sitting up and facing Jungkook. He’s looking as wide-eyed, easy-going, and comfortable as always. You’re not sure how long you can keep up the facade of being okay. “I was just waiting for you, that’s all.” 

You don’t wait for him to reply as you slide off the bed, grab your clothes from your suitcase, and lock yourself in the bathroom. You ignore the lump in your throat as you brush your teeth, as you get your day started. Finally, you look up at your own reflection in the mirror. Unlike previous times, when there had been a glimmer to your gaze—you don’t know you recognize the now disheartened individual before you. 

You exit the bathroom and immediately turn to pack up your suitcase once more, ignoring Jungkook in the process. The boy is on his phone, typing something—probably a text message. Maybe he’s responding to Jennie, confirming their date for tonight, as he remains completely oblivious to your feelings. 

The thought brings the tears back to your eyes. 

“Ready to go?” Jungkook asks, all smiles and soft eyes as he slides off the bed to face you. 

You don’t look at him as you shoulder your carry-on bag and straighten into a standing position. “Yeah.” You don’t mean for the tone to come out dry and unresponsive, but you’re too focused on trying to get the tears out of your throat. 

You miss the way the smile slowly slips off Jungkook’s face as he watches you move towards the door. 

Jungkook moves towards you, reaching forward to take your suitcase from you just as he’s done for the past few days. 

You, however, brush him off. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” You pull open the door and make your way down the hallway without looking back to see if he’s following closer behind you. You don’t need his help, you don’t need his pity. You don’t need him to do these things, to lead you on—especially if he was going to end up with some other girl at then end of the day. 

You stay quiet as you make your way to Jungkook’s car. Jungkook steals the occasional glance in your direction, seeming to finally realize that something is wrong. 

He, however, doesn’t say anything until you’re back on the freeway—on the five hour drive towards the wedding venue. “Everything okay?” 

You’re playing with your hair, but you stop long enough to spare him a short glance. You’re not even looking at his face, you’re looking at the chair he’s seated on. “What do you mean?” 

Jungkook clears his throat. “You’ve been really quiet since I got out of the bathroom. You…” He gestures to the center console. “You’re not even playing any music.” He tries for a smile. “I’d really like to listen to your ‘everything’ playlist.” 

“Sorry, I’m not really in a music-listening mood right now,” You whisper, realizing that you should probably cover up your ass a little better than you are currently. “S-Sorry, I think it was something at the restaurant yesterday. I’m not feeling super hot right now.” 

“Oh no, do we need to stop by a pharmacy or something? I can run in and get some stomach machine or whatever—!” 

“Jungkook, it’s fine.” 

Maybe it’s the finality of your tone, or the sharper edge in your voice, but Jungkook quiets down again. One glance in his direction shows you the furrow of his eyebrows, the set of his jawline—he looks hurt and confused. And that kills you inside. 

A small part of you wants you just lay all your cards on the table—to admit your side of the story and let him know about the texts and the hurt feeling still eating itself at your heart. 

But another part of you, the bigger part of you, doesn’t want to give Jungkook that power. You don’t want to be the one to crack first, to be the one who gets hurt first. So you refuse to say anything, settling deeper and deeper into the seat of Jungkook’s car. Contrary to your initial thoughts, he doesn’t plug in his own phone to play his own music. He simply allows the pair of you to bathe in silence. 

Without the music to distract you, without Jungkook trying to make conversation, it forces your mind to linger on the events of the early morning. Maybe Jungkook didn’t tell you because it was obvious to him that the pair of you would never have been a plus one to the wedding in general. He’s probably hurt because Jungkook can’t get his way with you. 

The realization that he doesn’t even have the consideration to warn you ahead of time that an invitation for a ride doesn’t equate to an invitation to be a plus one brings the tears back to your eyes. Did you not even deserve a warning? Why would Jungkook let you kiss him, let you fall in love with him—only to turn his back on you like this? 

You have to keep your eyes glued to the window of the passenger’s side of the car, just to make sure Jungkook won’t see the tears. You can just imagine that he’ll ask, and the conversation will steer the pair of you into an even more awkward space. 

It’s a very agonizing five hours. Not having that time to recover from the shock of those texts is becoming increasingly more difficult for you to handle. 

There are a few times that your tears overwhelm your whole system, where you have to sniff to get a handle on your body’s response to the emotions going through your body—which you’re sure Jungkook can hear. After all, there’s no music playing and there is a silence that is threatening to swallow you whole. 

Jungkook, however, does not say anything in response to your very obvious sniffle. He merely tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and keeps his mouth shut. You wonder if he’s waiting for you to talk first, to explain what’s going on with you. 

The sky is bleeding orange by the time Jungkook pulls into the new hotel, the final hotel. There is still two hours until the wedding is set to start, but every nerve in your body is screaming for you to leave and go back home. Every nerve in your body is telling you that you don’t belong here anymore. 

“Okay, I let you have your peace for the whole drive over,” Jungkook starts off, voice tight, fixing the car into park. “But I’m asking you this right now. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t seem fine… and I’m worried about you…” He reaches across the car to land a hand on your shoulder. It’s a completely normal gesture, especially between you and Jungkook, but you cannot handle it. 

You jerk away. “I’m fine,” You snap out, actually fixing your gaze on him this time. Jungkook recoils, immediately retracting his arm from you, looking like you just burned him. You tear your gaze away from him. You’re not strong enough to see him hurt because of you. “Why do you care anyways?” 

Jungkook exhales in disbelief, turning towards the steering wheel of the car and running a hand through his hair. “What are you talking about? Is this about last night? Did I… say something to scare you off?” 

“This isn’t about what you said, this is about what you didn’t say and what you’re not telling me!” 

Jungkook looks like you just grew a second head. “What are you talking about?” 

You whirl back to face him. “Oh, so the fact that you and Miss. Jennie were already set to go to this fucking wedding together and you didn’t even think to give me a heads up and tell me?” 

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. “What? How did you know about that?” 

You laugh, but it’s a hollow noise that only makes that lump come back to your throat. “Nevermind,” You bite out. This time, you don’t stop the tears from resurfacing as you give Jungkook a full look this time. His demeanor changes from frozen to pained at the sight. “I hope you guys are very happy together.” 

You don’t say another word as you fumble with the latch of the door before pushing it open with more strength than necessary. You can vaguely hear Jungkook struggling with his own seat belt, but you don’t care. You slam the car door shut and storm away. You don’t know where you’re going—maybe around the corner to scream, or to call a taxi that’ll take you to the airport. You don’t care about the wedding. You don’t think you could face the embarrassment in facing Jungkook or Jennie or Irene right now. 

“Shit, Y/N! Y/N!” Jungkook is calling for you now, his footsteps loud against the asphalt. 

Everything feels like you’re going through water, which is probably why Jungkook is able to reach you as quickly as he does. He catches you by the wrist. 

“Y/N—please, will you stop and just listen to me?” 

“No! Jungkook, let me go.” You start trying to tug your wrist, trying to pull yourself away from him. “Let me go! I’m leaving! I don’t want to see you anymore!” You’re gasping, the tears blurring your vision and making you feel powerless. 

Without a warning, Jungkook pulls you in his arms. Wrapping his arms around you, he traps you in his embrace. And you are miserable. 

“Stop it!” You gasp, trying to push him away. You’re heaving—crying and trying to escape from someone as strong as Jungkook is definitely a workout for your body. “Jungkook, leave me alone. This is all my fault.” 

He pauses. “What do you mean?” 

You stop struggling, allowing Jungkook to hold you as you pull back enough to look away from his face. You wipe at the tears on your face. “It’s my fault anyways. I said I liked you and you said you liked me too, but maybe that wasn’t enough for you. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we’re exclusive. I should have asked up front, so I wouldn’t get hurt in the long run.” 

“You don’t need to get hurt though,” Jungkook whispers kindly, his voice overcoming the blood in your ears, as well as your own yelling. You quiet down at that, except for your own lungs contracting to catch more air. This leaves you a hiccuping mess. He waits until he knows you’re not going to say anything next. “You’re right, okay? Jennie and I were supposed to be each other’s dates.” 

You’re still trying to catch your breath. 

Jungkook rests a hand on top of your head, curling his fingers through the strands of your hair soothingly. “Are you okay?” 

You hiccup. “Why are you telling me this? I just told you that I’m hurt right now…” 

“Shhh.” Jungkook pulls back and cups your face in his hands so you can look at him. “You aren’t listening to me. I said we were supposed to be each other’s dates. We’re not anymore.” 

You blink, allowing the tears that were already filling your eyes to fall down your cheeks. Jungkook wipes them gently with his thumb. “What?” 

Jungkook’s gaze flickers between your eyes. “Jennie and I are friends, so we’d figure it would be fun to just go together and have a person to sit with, eat with, and dance with. As friends.” 

“W-What happened then?” You ask, a watery color in your voice. 

Jungkook gives you a gentle smile, the kind of gesture that tells you that you should know the answer already. “You happened, silly.” He keeps his eyes on yours. “I saw you at the party with Jimin and invited you to come with me. I assumed when I asked that we’d be each other’s plus ones. I forgot to tell Jennie though when I asked you out.” He tilts his head at you. “You saw the texts on my phone, didn’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry.” You hiccup again. “Your phone kept going off this morning and I was just trying to put it on silent. I-I didn’t mean to look through your messages…” 

“Shh, baby, you’re good, you’re okay.” Jungkook interrupts gently, wrapping his arms tighter around you and swaying the pair of you back and forth. The usage of the nickname fills you with a new feeling, a warmer feeling. It helps calm you down. 

Your breathing eventually evens out, bringing you back to reality and to the realization that you and Jungkook are hugging in the middle of a hotel parking lot. 

Jungkook loosens his grip on you, letting you step back. He watches you for a moment. “Here,” He says, digging through his pocket and pulling out his phone. “I think you should see this.” He clicks through a few of his apps, until he seems to find what he’s looking for because he hands the phone to you. You look over at him, confusion flooding through your features. Jungkook gives you a reassuring nod. “It’s okay.” 

Still hesitant, you take the phone and look at the messages across the screen. It’s the texts from this morning. 

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts 

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think 

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :) 

Jungkook (10:20AM): hey Jennie !! oh shit i totally forgot to let u know but i actually found a plus one :( i’m soooo sorry i should have told you earlier omg i feel terrible 

Jennie (10:20AM): no worries jungkook !! who is it omg do I know them? 

Jungkook (10:20AM): it’s actually Y/N? We all went to college together… 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH!!!! wait isn’t she the one Irene was working with a lot for senior projects? 

Jennie (10:20AM): OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO

Jennie (10:21AM): OKAY JUNGKOOK I SEE U 

Jennie (10:21AM): she’s THE Y/N right???? the one u were in love with for our entire college career?? 

Jungkook (10:22AM): …… maybe? 

Jennie (10:22AM): WOWOWOWOW good for u Jungkook !!! glad to see u finally having the balls to ask her out !! 

Jungkook (10:22AM): OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH 

Jungkook (10:23AM): I actually felt BAD for leaving you by yourself BUT NOT ANYMORE 

Jennie (10:23AM): LMAO Jungkook I’m friends with Irene’s entire bridesmaid row i’ll be fine 

Jennie (10:23AM): just go get ur dick wet!!!!!! 

Jungkook (10:23AM): istg i will leave you on read 

Jungkook (10:23AM): also that is NOT the point!!!!!! Just wanna love my new girl :( 

Jennie (10:24AM): You’re gross 

Jennie (10:24AM): but sounds good see you tonight! 

You look up from Jungkook’s phone to see him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction, pleading for you to forgive him. 

The only thought that can be translated into a coherent sentence comes out: “You were in love with me during college?” 

Jungkook exhales in a laugh, his arms finding your waist once again. “I think ‘in love with’ was a bit of a stretch back then. I think you could agree that we didn’t know each other well enough before for me to say that.” 

You’re still looking at him. “Back then…?” You echo. 

He nods. “Back then.” He brings you closer, one hand moving up to gently brush at the skin of your cheek. “But it’s different now. Now, I can say with absolute certainty that I’m in love with you.” 

Your lips part. “You’re in love with me?” The tears spring back into your eyes, but for a different reason entirely. The emotional rollercoaster you have just been on is unbelievable. 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of your tears. “Oh shit, I’m sorry! Is that too fast? I’m sorry, I should have given you a warning or something. Or more time at least. Oh no, please don’t cry…” 

You brush him off with a watery laugh, waving his concern away. “It’s okay Jungkook. This is fine, really.” You give him a smile. “I love you too. I really thought you were pulling my leg or something.” 

Jungkook gives you his own small smile. “I’m sorry. I should have brought this up sooner about us being each other’s plus ones. Just because I assume something doesn’t mean it’s an established thing.” He brings you closer, his smile turning into a grin. “You love me too, huh?” 

You giggle. You’re too strung out to come up with something witty or clever. “Yeah…” 

Jungkook is still smiling, his gaze switching between your lips and your eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” 

You nod. “About time.” 

He kisses you again, softly and sweetly, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips but it’s gentle caresses that make your heart feel like it’s crawling up your throat. 

“OH MY GOD GET A ROOM!” A voice calls from the other side of the parking lot, forcing you and Jungkook to pull away. The pair of you look at each other and you start to laugh. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead, sweeping down to your ear. “How about we check into our room and get ready?” 

You giggle, nodding over at him. “That sounds good.” 

So Jungkook leads the way, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you gather your suitcases from the car and enter the lobby. You check in easily, as Jungkook is provided a map with directions on how to reach the room. 

The pair of you don’t pull away once until Jungkook is sliding the key card into the door and pushing it open to reveal the bedroom you’ll be sharing for the night. 

Both you and Jungkook park your suitcases near the foot of the bed, as per usual. 

“Do you want to use the bathroom?” Jungkook offers. 

You nod, smiling softly. “Okay.” 

You gather the dress you’ve brought in your arms, about to enter the bathroom, before Jungkook’s voice stops you. “Hey,” He calls, approaching you and wrapping you in his arms again. He’s much more handsey this time, like he needs to make sure you’re not going to run away again, like you’re going to be okay. “You feel better now?” His thumb brushes your lips. “Your eyes are still a little red.” 

You nod. “The makeup will probably help that,” You reassure in a soft voice. 

Jungkook mirrors your movements. “Still, how about I get some ice for you so you can put something cold underneath your eyes… to stop the puffing.” 

He looks genuinely concerned and worried for your wellbeing that you can’t help but smile. Since he is insisting, you decide to just let him be. “Okay, Jungkook.” 

He smiles. “Okay! You start getting ready and I’ll get the ice, okay?” A quick kiss on your cheek before he’s bounding out of the door with the provided ice buckets. 

Your eyes linger on the door for a few minutes before you’re turning back to your suitcase. The dress you have picked is a pink flowing floor-length number—something Karly helped you pick out before leaving. It’s soft enough that it doesn’t leave crease marks along the fabric, which had made this outfit perfect for the trip. You take the dress and your bag of makeup before entering the bathroom. You’re just slipping on the dress when you hear the hotel room door open and close. 

“Okay, I got the ice!” Jungkook announces through the bathroom door. “Did you want to work on your eyes right now?” 

“Sure,” You call back. “Do you mind zipping me up first?” 

“Of course,” Jungkook returns, sounding distracting as you open the door to the bathroom. You peek your head through, noticing Jungkook opening his suitcase on the floor and sorting through it—probably for his own suit. 

He must hear the door open, because he looks up towards you. Immediately, his eyes widen as he straightens up into a standing position. “O-Oh wow…” He’s looking you over up and down, up and down, as if he needs to commit this to memory. “Y-You look great. Beautiful.” 

“Really?” You stammer back. “Thank you.” 

Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as he approaches you. “You needed me to zip you up?” 

“O-Oh right, yeah.” Hastily, you turn around, brushing the hair from your back to expose your undone zipper, and your bare back. 

You think that he purposely grazes the tips of his fingers against your skin in his process of bringing the zipper up to the top of the fabric. You’re about to turn, thank him, but his hands back at your waist do the gesture for you. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. You look really pretty.” 

You pout. “You’re being too nice to me.” 

Jungkook whines, hugging you close to him. “You’re too cute.” He noses at your temple. “I just wanted to see you smile.” He pulls away after a moment. “Let’s take care of your face, yeah?” He turns around and returns with a small baggy full of ice. “Here, sit down for a second.” He leaves for a second, returning back with a towel. “Maybe… five minutes each eye. I don’t know. I’ll get ready while we’re waiting.” 

So he takes his suit out from his case and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with a towel of ice pressed against your eye. The cooling sensation definitely helps with the puffiness. 

Jungkook appears from the bathroom a few minutes later—dressed in a black suit with a white button-down and a long skinny black tie. His hair has been fiddled with a little, but he still has that messy, boyish, lovable appearance that makes your heart race. 

“Did you switch the towel?” 

You nod. 

“How do you feel?” 

Slowly, you bring the towel down and rest it on your lap. You look at Jungkook. “How do I look?” 

He leans forward towards you, holding your chin gently between his fingers. “You look better. Did you need to finish getting ready?” 

“Yeah. I just need to touch up my makeup.” 

“Okay, go ahead then.” 

Jungkook takes the towel, and watches as you make your way back to the bathroom. You’re only gone for a few minutes before you’re emerging once more—eyeshadow a little darker, lashes a little closer, and lips slightly pinker, but overall still looking like the same version of the girl he fell in love with. 

The pair of you drive to the wedding venue, a cute brick building with browns, greens, and whites surrounding. Guests already swarm the outside area, some of whom you recognize from college. The sight makes you nervous. 

Jungkook sees this, and he reaches over to grab onto your hand. “You can just stick with me, okay?” He smiles. “I’ll protect you.” 

You roll your eyes, but you are thankful to have Jungkook as your source of comfort and be that person you could run back to. 

He parks and meets you at the front of his car, where you lace fingers and make your way towards the venue. You go through a small round of hellos and ‘nice to finally meet you’ conversations—most notably from Mingyu and Jennie, both of whom light up at the sight of your presence. Contrary to your previous worries, you find that you don’t really need to be so nervous. Mingyu and Jennie are friends of Jungkook’s for a reason—they radiate a relaxing nature that you can tell is what has drawn the three of them to each other. 

They ask about you, your college experience, your current experience, passing easy conversation in the ceremony space right before the start of the wedding. It’s fun to see Jungkook joking around with the friends he grew up with, and even more fun to see how easy you are allowed into that world. 

The actual wedding ceremony is a blur. You vaguely recognize the extremely attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Seokjin at the head of the aisle. You definitely recognize the equally as attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Irene, downed in white lace and looking much more beautiful than you ever remember her. Vows are exchanged, kisses are shared, there’s an applause, and pictures are taken before the guests are ushered into the main entry room—decked out with a bar and a few scattered seating areas. Jungkook whispers to you that guests are put here temporarily, as the ceremony space is being converted into a dining area. 

True to Jungkook’s promise, he lingers by your side most of the night. Although you reassure him that you are fine, you are much more emotionally stable compared to a few hours ago, and that perhaps you are okay catching up with Nayeon—another girl from college, actually someone from the first party you ever attended who defended you when you were receiving unwanted attention—but Jungkook simply tells you that he likes being around you. He likes being able to put his arm around you, likes to rest his hand at your waist, likes people knowing that he has you. 

It’s a few more minutes of conversation, of laughter, of old stories being exchanged between people you haven’t seen for years, when the guests are called back into the newly converted dining area. Instead of rows of chairs lined up, there are round tables filling the space. The long panel of doors once closed along the wall of the room have been opened—exposing a gazebo with a D.J. and a dance floor, all encircled by a string of big bright fairy lights. 

You and Jungkook are situated at the same table as most of the guests you recognize from college. You assume this is purposefully done to give you all a common ground, and it works because conversations spring easily between you all. Even when you’re not talking about your experiences from university, you’re able to transition from topic to topic. You and Jungkook occasionally talk amongst yourselves as you’re eating, but you sit together and laugh together when Irene and Seokjin emerge and listen in during the wedding toasts. 

Finally, Irene and Seokjin make their rounds through the room, stopping at the tables to cheer and laugh and exchange a few words of congratulations and conversation. Following this process, everyone at your table stands on their feet as Irene and Seokjin make their way towards you. There are bright smiles, Irene’s cheerful gasp as she takes in all the guests that have come to join her. She circles your table, hugging every guest, continuing this when she reaches you. 

Irene grins at the sight of you. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!” 

“I know!” You return, pulling away from Irene. “Congratulations. This wedding is beautiful.” 

She beams, absolutely radiating in her white dress and glittering makeup. “Thank you so much for coming! But oh my god, are the rumors true, did you really show up—!” She looks over your shoulder, and grins again. “Jungkook!” She hugs Jungkook. “I should be saying congratulations to the two of you. I was surprised to get the text from Jungkook saying that you guys were coming as each other’s dates. Gave me a whole pain because I had to switch some seats around at the last minute. But anything for my favorite people.” She turns to you and holds onto your arms. “Jungkook has had a crush on you for years, so you’re really doing him a huge favor.” 

“Okay, enough,” Jungkook interrupts, scowling. But there is still that playful look in his eyes. “Did all your friends know about this? Jennie knew something was up too when I texted her.” 

Irene presses her lips together. “Mingyu might have mentioned something.” She presses her hand to Jungkook’s cheek. “Stay safe, you guys. Hope you enjoy the rest of the night.” She moves onto her next guest. 

Jungkook is groaning. “Remind me to never tell Mingyu anything ever again.” He glares at the boy from across the table. “Gonna fling some peanuts at that son of a bitch.” 

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist. “Oh, let him be. It’s Irene’s wedding. You can get him tomorrow.” 

Jungkook pouts, but he does wrap his own arm around your shoulder. “Ah, love my girl—promoting evil behavior after festive events.” He kisses your cheek as your table takes their seats once more. 

The good natured atmosphere continues as you and Jungkook down your food, remaining fully engaged in the conversations happening around the table. After another hour of this, the DJ announces the start of the married couple’s first dance. Irene and Seokjin take to the dance floor and spin around, her white dress flowing around the room like light. Underneath the glow of the fairy lights, it looks like the couple is in an entirely new world. And you are so taken by it. 

Jungkook does not turn to you until the DJ plays a slow song—a first slow song after a series of upbeat dance and pop genres. He jerks his head towards the dance floor. “You want to dance?” 

You take his hand when he offers. “Of course.” He leads you across the room, towards the gazebo, where several other couples have moved to cling to one another. Jungkook pulls you in: one hand on your waist and the other with your own hand. “This is really nice,” You start off. 

Jungkook laughs. “The wedding, or the dance?” 

You smile over at him. “Both. Being able to slow dance with you, however, is marginally better.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a little after that. He seems content just staring at your eyes, taking in the magic of this moment. “Thank you for coming with me,” He starts. “The whole road trip thing. Definitely would not have been as fun if I did all that by myself.” 

“Well, thank you for inviting me,” You return. “Even though we had that big misunderstanding. I had a lot of fun.” 

“Hey.” Jungkook angles his head a little so he can look at you in the eyes. “You know that I would never hurt you, right? You’re too important to me that I wouldn’t even think to pull some stupid shit like that again. You know that I love you too much to do that to you, right?” 

“I do know now,” You say, gazing over at him. “And I love you too.” 

You’re not usually an expressive person. But it’s worth saying those words just to see the grin that overtakes Jungkook’s face. It’s worth even more when he leans forward, kissing you openly in front of all his friends, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, running his tongue over the wound, and into your mouth. It’s worth it to have his fingers dusting sweetly over your skin, coaxing your mouth to open to allow exploration. 

It feels like worlds pass before Jungkook pulls away, giving you that breathless smile dimple and all, before he’s leaning forward to bury his face into your neck. 

“I think the drive home will be fun,” Jungkook mutters softly. 

“Hm?” You hum, eyes closed as he presses tiny kisses along your neck. 

“Most definitely,” Jungkook says, lifting himself just enough so that his lips hover over your ear lobe. “Because I plan on fucking you in every hotel bed for the rest of the trip.” 

You feel your heart race, your cheeks heat. Yes, this was definitely worth it. 

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

I was wondering if you'd consider doing a Hotch x plus size reader? Totally fine if you're not up for it! I have this idea where the reader is a tech person like Penelope & she's around the same age. On a number of occasions she'll stay later to finish her work and it's only her & Hotch left. So she starts this cute little friendship where she'll make him coffee before she leaves. That turns into a crush, then she begins to avoiding him cuz she's shy, then he confronts her saying her likes her.

Late Nights

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x PLUS!Reader

Warnings: None

WOWWW this is a long one hope you guys enjoy it 🤗💜

MASTERLIST

-----

“You know, working this late should be against the law for single parents” walking in Hotch’s office I shut the door behind me 

“You’re working late again?” he looked up from the file on his desk smiling at me 

“My stupid systems chose today of all days to act up, I had to upgrade the software and all the fun stuff” placing the extra coffee cup on his desk I plopped down in the chair opposite me

“It’s taking a while to get back online but hopefully I’ll be out of here in the next hour or so” 

For the past couple weeks Hotch had been working late nights and I thought that I’d stay back also in case he needed someone to talk too. As a profiler he sees and deals with a lot of gruesome things that would keep a normal person up all night. At first it was innocent, I’d pop in to check in on him to distract him for a bit or make him his coffee when he insists on staying in the office later than usual  but as we grew closer he started opening up more to me. He started talking about the things they saw and did on the case the team had worked on and then we started talking more about Jack and how he’s doing at school, more personal topics

“I know I’m not the most open when it comes to expressing feelings but I just want to say thank you” Aaron took a sip of his coffee before placing the cup down, eyes glued to my frame

“What are you thanking me for?” he smiled and I couldn’t help but swoon a bit. Aaron doesn’t smile much or show us his soft side so it’s nice to see him this relaxed around me

“For being a friend, for working late nights with me and all the coffee” my stomach fluttered as he went on

“The coffee is good” chuckling I brought my cup to my lips and took a sip in order to help hide the blush that heated up my cheeks

“It is, oh I forgot to ask you, Jack has a soccer game this weekend and he insisted that I asked you to be there” he fiddled with his fingers waiting for my reaction

“Of course, I’ll be there”

------

“Of course, I’ll be there. That’s what I told him, oh God what if I’m reading into this too much” 

I’m currently pacing the floor of Penelope’s bat cave as we waited for the coroner’s report to come in. My phone buzzed for the tenth time today, looking down at the screen I sighed letting it go to voicemail

“Hotch again? You know he doesn’t smile nor opens up so easily to anyone besides you, I wouldn’t be surprised if he likes you” Penelope got cut off by the ringing phone on her desk

“Speak and be heard oh mighty one” 

“Garcia I need you to dig deeper into our victims background” Hotch’s voice filled the room and I immediately sat down 

“Sure, anything specific I’m looking for sir?” she started tapping away at her keyboard doing exactly what he said

“We need to find the connection between all three of them”

“Okay sir, I’ll call you back when I have something” 

“Penelope wait, don’t hang up” she paused with her finger over the end button looking over at me

“Is Y/N with you?” I frantically motioned for her to say no and thankfully she caught on 

“No sir, want me to pass on a message?”

“No, no, uh thanks Garcia” he sounded so defeated and that only made me feel even more guilty. For the past three days I’ve been avoiding Aaron for as much as I could ever since the night in his office, I realized that I was setting myself up for heartbreak. The call ended and she glared at me

“You are hurting that man”

“I know and I feel terrible but I need to put some distance between the both of us”

“He’s in Nevada with the team right now how much more distance do you want?” she deadpanned looking me in the eyes 

“It’s complicated alright”

“It really isn’t” she turned back to her set and started working on the case ending our conversation 

-----

“Welcome back my heroes!”

Garcia held a box of cupcakes up welcoming the team back as they stepped off the elevator. I stood a few feet behind her smiling at them as they grabbed a cake and filled into the bullpen. I was about to follow behind them when a hand held on to my wrist keeping me in place

“Is everything alright?”

Aaron

“Yeah, everything’s fine, why would they be?” I started rambling removing my hand from his hold, avoiding his gaze 

“You say that but I don’t believe you, let’s talk in my office” he opened the door for me and we headed straight to his office. I saw Penelope shoot me a small smile before I entered the room. I took a seat on the sofa as he moved to his desk.

Aaron dropped his go bag on his desk and removed his jacket before joining me on the sofa. He stared into my eyes trying to get a sense of what’s going on, profiling me 

“Is there a reason why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you sir” I couldn’t help but pick at my fingernails as nervousness washed over me

“Sir? Y/N, it’s just the two of us and yes, you haven’t even returned any of my calls or texts” I wrecked my brain trying to come up with an excuse but I couldn’t

“I know that there isn’t any other way to say this but, the other night when we were in here I had to tell you something but I didn’t know how you were going to take it, I still don’t-” he rambled scratching the back of his neck

“Aaron” placing my hand on his knee I cut him off, he took my small hand in his gently brushing the back of my hand using his thumb

“I like you” he blurted and I froze, my heartrate sped up the longer we sat here staring at each other

Say something idiot!

“Why me?”

Dear God, you should’ve stayed quiet

“What do you mean why you?”

“I’m not your type Aaron”

“What’s my type then?”

“Someone like Emily, brave, courageous, can actually shoot to save herself, skinny, gorgeous” I mumbled the last two hoping he didn’t hear them but he did

“You don’t have to be skinny to be gorgeous and besides, you are perfect, you’re funny, sweet, caring, determined, charismatic, I could go on” he smiled giving my hand a gentle squeeze as we held each other’s gaze

“Most importantly, you make me feel safe” my breathing hitched as we sat here, neither one of us wanting to break the moment 

“I like you too Aaron” 

------

The referee blew the whistle ending the soccer match and Jack jumped with glee with his team as they were the winners. I cheered and clapped happy for the little boy who scored one of the winning goals as he ran directly to his father. Smiling I made my way over to the Hotchner boys and Jack broke free from Aaron’s arms and rushed over to me

“Good job buddy, you did so great!” wrapping my arms around the child I kissed the top of his head 

“Did you see me score?” he pulled back enough to look up at me and I cupped his flushed cheeks in my palms

“I did and that was an excellent bicycle kick”

“Jack!” one of his teammates called him over for a group photo and he ran off. A pair of arms snaked around my waist pulling me flush against the owner, Aaron

“You did great with them” spinning around I wrapped my arms around his middle 

“I did the best I could with a group of ten year olds” 

“Thanks for coming it means a lot to me and I know it does to him too”

“No need to thank me, I had a good time listening to chatty Cathy to your left go on about how hot you look in those shorts” he laughed pulling me in closer to him

“Join us for dinner tonight, it’s been a while since he’s seen you and it’ll be good to have you around more”

“Sounds like a plan” pushing myself upwards I kissed him and he immediately responded. I swear I was about to explode from the electricity that flowed through my body from having his lips on mine

We were so wrapped up in our moment that we had forgotten about the crowd of people that surrounded us until they started wolf whistling and cheering us on. Breaking apart my face became heated from the blush that overtook my cheeks. Aaron looked down at me with a boyish grin clearly enjoying the moment

“How’s that for our first kiss?” 

“Not quite what I was expecting”

“C’mon let’s head back to my place” taking my hand in his he called out to his son and we headed to his car. The both of them quickly fell into conversation and I must admit, seeing Hotch domesticated has got to be the hottest thing ever 

The bond that these two have is very special and I can’t wait to share more moments like this with them

------

HEY GUYS PSA!! If any of you lovely readers would love to tagged in my fics let me know and I’ll gladly add you to the list ❤️

Tag list:

@calm-and-doctor

[sushis-wild-imagination]

Just a Little Longer

Nam Joon x Reader

Summary: You are an idol signed by BigHit and you are very close to the boys, you've always had a crush on Nam Joon and he confesses to you that he likes someone.

Words: I don't even know, longer than my assignment for sure.

Warnings: A LOTTA FLUFF friendship fluff?????

Note: not proofread, also its been a while since I wrote I’ll get better.

MASTERLIST  PROMPTLIST

Hiii, so this is my first BTS fanfic, hope y'all like it. I think this will turn into a series, let me know what y'all think of that. Jin is my bias but Nam Joon and Yoongi are here to wreck it anytime anyday. Honestly I just want to be friends with them. I want to be in the gang. That's all.

-----

You were a female idol signed on to BigHit Entertainment around the time BTS was signed on. You and BTS were very close, army and your fans got used to it after a while. There were tons of times where you would look out for each other. You also recently became and international idol following BTS, they would look out for you at all the award shows you were both at. Taehyung would even walk you to the stage and up the stairs.

You were a part of the family. You would surprise them at their concerts, go on trips, bomb their Vlives. There were YouTube videos titled "BTS looking out for (Y/N)" online. You were a solo artist so you got grouped up with the boys often and the fans liked seeing you with them too. So they often let you tag along to shoots and even be a part of them sometimes.

You were a 94' born. So Tae, Chim and kookie called you noona. You were the closest to Yoongi, you vibed with him the best. You were the same kind. Maknae line were your babies, you pampered them a lot.

You were on your way to surprise the boys at the "BTS In the Soop" house. They thought it would be a good idea for you to make a special appearance on the show.

The boys were already there for a day. You were all packed taking in the air, you drove to the destination. You were excited, you hadn't seen the boys in a while because of a busy schedule but you were in touch via messages. Tae would send you regular updates about his life.

You pull up at the house and push the door open. Tae and Jimin were playing ping pong outside, you would see Hobi flying his glider. You smiled and got out. Jimin's attention went to the car and the ball hit his face. Tae and hobi burst out laughing, you also let out a chuckle. "(Y/N) Noona" he yells and you wave at him frantically.

As soon as he says that, all three boys turn heads to your direction. You keep waving and they rush towards you. Suddenly you are jumped at by 3 grown men almost knocking the air out of your lungs. You couldn't help but laugh. "Hi guys, miss me?" You ask. Hugging them all back. Tae nods. "I knew today would be a good day" hobi ruffles your hair. "What have you been upto, did you forget about us" you laugh to that as if you could forget your 7 best friends.

"Where's everyone else?" You ask looking around. "Yoongi Hyung should be in the Campervan, I think Jin Hyung and Jungkook are fishing and NamJoon is reading in his room." Jimin responds and Tae gets your luggage out and rolls it out. You take your luggage from Taehyung saying a quiet thank you. You roll out your luggage to the living room and walk towards the upper house, the boys go back to whatever they were doing before you came.

You walk to the upper house and spot the campervan. You open the campervan to surprise Yoongi. "Yoongi Oppa, Suprise!" You yell as soon as you open the door. He's so startled he almost three his equipment. "(Y/N) what are you doing here? I was so startled" he says holding his heart. You laugh your heart out at his reaction. "I'm sorry" you say and sit down next to him. "Whatchu working on?" You ask and he hands you one side of his earphone. It was his new project.

"How long are you here for?" He asked you. "I think until the end, no one told me anything" you say.

The door suddenly slams open. You and Yoongi jump, yoongi was holding his heart again and you were holding on to the table for dear life.

"JUNGKOOK" you yell.

"I'm going to die of a heart attack today" You hear yoongi mutter under his breath.

"(Y/N) Noona" he waves his hands at you and you slowly step out of the van to hug his big frame. "Did you grow taller in 3 months?" You ask. "I hope I did" he answers. He drags you to see Jin at the house. You see Hobi and Jin prepping something. "Jin Hyung close your eyes" Jungkook says and tries to hide you behind the door.

"What's this now?" He asks thinking it's one of Jungkooks pranks. "I have a present" he says. He does as the youngest says and closes his eyes.

You position yourself right infront of Jin. You feel his hand pat your head. "Is it a big plushie?" He asks with his eyes closed. You stiffle a chuckle.

"Open your eyes" Jungkook instructs and Jin looks at you. "(Y/N)" he squeals and hugs you. He jumps up and down with you in his arms. "I missed you" you laugh. "I've missed you too"

You smell something burn. "oh my fish" he screams and runs back to the kitchen.

Hobi Jungkook and Jin were making lunch, you always loved watching them cook. It was therapeutic. You also helped out when you could. "Is NamJoon still reading?" You ask in the air waiting for someone to answer. They all look at each other awkwardly before one of them says "You'll see him at lunch" you nod and continue eating the chips lying around.

------

You were rolling out your luggage to the floating house that's where you will be staying for the rest of the days here. The boys offered to switch but you wouldn't let them, it has to be fair. You were heading out to lunch with Taehyung who was hanging out in your room until lunch was ready and you unpacked.

"Your hair has grown out, can braid it later?"

"Only if you massage it too" he smirks and you nod. "Alright, after lunch" you salute to him playfully.

He warned you about bugs and how you'll have to gulp you food as soon as you see it or you will end up eating a bug. "I think I swallowed one yesterday" he says making a face that screamed disgusting. He makes you laugh and you smack his arm lightly.

You see Nam Joon from a distance. "Nam Joon-ah" you yell for him to hear you. You run to him to give him a hug. He puts his arms around you but loosely. It felt weird, this is not how he usually hugs you, something wrong but you let it go for now. "The boys told me you've arrived" he says pulling back. He flashes a warm smile.

You look at him, giving him an 'Are-you-okay' face and he understands it immediately and softly nods at you.

"Thank you for the food" Jimin yells in the back and you both head to the table.

"One more mouth to feed" Jin says jokingly and shakes his head. "C'mon, you know you love me" you respond that immediately left Hobi bursting out in Justin Bieber's Baby in the middle of lunch in his adorable English. You all have a big laugh.

------

You were all gathered in the living room now and Jimin was rapping??? Leaving you and Hobi laughing, you could feel your sides cramping up, gasping for breath as you laugh. "What activites did you ask for?" Taehyung asks.

"I brought my sketchpad and some books to read" you respond.

You stick your hand out to his hair and comb through, "Braid time" you say and he turns around, back facing you. Jimin hands him the mic and he sings some BTS songs while you braid his hair. "I'm so sleepy" he says, it's the effect of the head massage. He gets up from in front of you.

"I'm going to go nap" you nod. You see Jungkook already passed out in the living room. Hobi was still building blocks. You walk out of the room to the deck.

You look out to see Jin fishing, trying to Fish.

"Should I come pick you up?" He yells from afar. "It's okay" you yell back and look out in the distance. You see Jin's boat coming towards you. "Hop in" he says holding the boat still and he sticks one arm out.

"Where do you want to go, Juliet?" He asks dramatically once you've settled. "To your heart, Romeo" you play along trying not to laugh. "Extra points for playing along" he says laughing. You fake bow in the boat.

He casts his line and you wait. The scenery was beautiful. "It's so pretty out here" you talk to no one in particular. "Gets better in the night" Jin says waiting for fish.

"Jin oppa" you call to get his attention. "Is Joonie okay? He's been acting weird" you say. You were concerned about him. "He was okay yesterday, I don't know maybe if we let him be, he'll come back" Jin suggest. NamJoon always has been the type to go off on his own for a while and come back feeling better. "Maybe" you mutter and look around.

-----

You had played a bunch of games, had dinner, got drunk with the boys by the fire. It was almost cinematic, you forgot how at home and peaceful they made you feel. You still couldn't get around talking to Nam Joon and you were determined to do it. It was almost midnight. You all had turned your mic off put it away and gotten ready to get into bed. You hear some footsteps outside. You get up to check who it was.

You see a man bent over the railing of the deck looking at the river. It was almost 1am. You recognize the man. Nam Joon.

"Hey Stranger" you say sneaking up behind him. He almost jumps. "(Y/N)" he gasps. You go to stand next to him.

"Can't sleep?" You ask.

He nods playing with his finger rings. "What's wrong" you ask really concerned, hoping he'll spill and feel better.

"There's just been a lot on my mind"

"You want to talk about it?"

"Nothing in specific"

"Tell me anyway, I'm here to listen"

You hear him take a breathe.

"There's someone I like but telling the person or acting on it is not going to do any good for either of the parties but I don't know what to do, do I let it go?"

"woah" you were taken aback, Nam Joon doesn't open up this quickly you didn't expect it either. You expected some vague things about his career. You heart sank. You used to crush on him where you were a bit younger but you thought you outgrew that? Guess not.

"Telling her won't work?"

"No, it won't, I can't date. Not with this schedule and this kinda career but what if I let it go and I don't get a chance like this again"

"Are you scared of missing out on love?"

He slowly nods. "I guess, I mean I love my career, I love the boys I love how far we've gotten, but it's taking everything, especially my youth."

You were dumbfounded. You didn't know how to respond to all of this. You didn't even know how he felt.

"Are you sure she's the one?" You ask.

"No, how can anyone be sure about anything so early on? I'd love it if she was but we'll have to try to know and the trying can't happen in the first place"

Your always amazed by his maturity. "I think if you really like her, you should give it a go tell her how you feel, just to get it off of your chest, even if you know for a fact it's not going to work out, and if it does work out, well good for you. Right?"

He slowly nods. "Do I just tell her?" He turns to you. you can feel his eyes pierce through your soul even in the night. It's like he knows what he does to you and continues to do it.

You nod to his question. "You'll feel better"

"Okay" he nods to himself as if he's encouraging himself to do it. You had an immediate urge to hug him, you put your head on his chest and your arms around his back. He likes someone else, why does that bother you? It was a stupid crush, two years ago, what is wrong with you? You ask yourself.

"Are you okay (Y/N)" he asks. You nuzzle further into him.

"I thought you needed one" You needed one.

"You have feelings too, you robot, why do you supress them so much?" You mumbled. He chuckled. "I don't like to talk about them" he brushes your hair.

"You should"

You try to pull back but he hugs you tighter.

"Just a little longer, please" you happily oblige. He did need a hug after all.

Are you crushing on him again? Are you ready to get your heart broken?

-------

Don't ask I don't even know, I think I'll make this a series, let me know what you think of my first BTS imagine, a lot more to come, I'm obsessed with these boys.

Masterlist

Promplist

[kaistarus]

Will You Social Distance With Me?

Pairing: Bakugou X Reader

Words: 2K

Summary: Quarantine and social distancing is hard, especially when you’re in high school and one of the only nights you look forward to is cancelled. You’ve given up any hope, but... maybe prom night can still be saved

Notes: This is for all you people that have gotten anything cancelled because of the coronavirus. My college graduation was cancelled, so we’re in this hell hole together :(

“I’m literally dying,” Mina’s face took up a majority your laptop screen as she whined dramatically. Her pink locks were pulled back by a silky hairband for the mudmask smeared across her face. Even in a global pandemic, skin care was her priority. “I’m losing my mind.”

“Wrong usage of literally.” Bakugou popped up front-and-center. He chewed a mechanical pencil as he focused on something off screen, likely doing the assigned online homework you were pretending didn’t exist.

“Okay, fun police.” You smirked. He sneered at his monitor and even though he couldn’t target the look, you knew it was for you.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.” Mina waved him off, falling back into her sea of fluffy pillows. “I haven’t had face-to-face interactions with anyone not my family in weeks. I’ll go insane before quarantine is over.”

“You should buy animal crossing,” Kirishima’s smiling face filled your screen as he held up a Nintendo switch. “I’ve never avoided my problems so easily.”

“Your grades are shit.” Bakugou said.

“Were they good before?” You tilted your head, looking at Kirishima’s videochat box as he focused at his lap where you assumed his Switch laid.

“Absolutely not,” Kirishima smirked. “But now I have Crimson Riot Land to disassociate on.” You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but your interest had been peaked.

“Hey, where’s Kami?” Mina made a show of tapping her wrist. “He’s late.”

Which was weird. Kaminari was either scheduling their videochats or the first one in the call whining when someone was 30 seconds late. That’s what happens when you’re the most extroverted person in a group during a global pandemic.

“He’s on a date with that Tinder boy.” Sero stated as if it was common knowledge.  He laid flat on his stomach toward his laptop surrounded by homework he’d held off till last minute. You tried desperately to forget about the mound of your own homework lying nearby.

Your jaw went slack in surprise and Mina exaggeratedly gasped. Even Bakugou paused writing and looked up at the screen confused.

“Where? Why?” Mina gripped her laptop monitor and began shaking it aggressively. “How?”

“McDonalds parking lot. He’s trying to make up for Prom getting cancelled.” Sero tapped his temple with his pencil’s eraser as he thought. “They’re staying in their cars with their windows cracked to avoid the virus.”

“That’s… romantic?” You said uncertainly.

“It’s fucking stupid.” Bakugou snorted, leaning against his hand. You stuck your tongue out and he made a mocking face.

“I forgot tonight was supposed to be Prom night.” Kirishima leaned back on his hands thoughtfully. You wished you could say the same. You looked over to the calendar hanging to your left beside your bed that had today’s date circled in red sharpie.

“How could Prom King forget?” Sero smirked, placing one of his books atop his head and leaning into crossed arms. Clearly, he’d given up hopes of productivity.

“I wouldn’t have won.”

“Literally everyone loves you Kiri. You were the only person people wanted to vote for.” You said. An unconvinced smile spread across his face and your heart dropped that he didn’t get to experience that love or recognition. He really deserved that moment.

“I’m just pissed I spent hundreds of dollars on a dress I don’t even get to wear.” Mina crossed her arms. “I would’ve looked so damn good.”

You looked at your own closet where your dress hung uselessly in its plastic store-bought bag to never be touched. You were sure there was someone you could give it to who would make some use of it in the future, but that just wasn’t the same.

“Who fucking cares. It’s all a waste of money,” Bakugou said uninterested.

“It’s not a waste.” You said offended, but he just rolled his eyes at you.

You knew Bakugou felt that way, but it still hurt hearing him say it. Perhaps it was because you had the pathetic fantasy that you could have asked him to go and he’d have said yes. Or because you picked out a crimson red dress specifically because you knew that was his favorite color. Or maybe even it was because you’d been in love with the idiot since freshman year history class and filled your head that this night would’ve been the night everything changed.

It didn’t matter anymore. The night was gone, and so were your chances with Bakugou. You’d just have to accept things for how they are. Your friendship wasn’t bad after all. You’d take late night videochats over no Bakugou any day.

“It’s a monumental moment of our high school careers!” Mina threw her hands up. “We go through four years of hell for one night of fun and the chance at a coming of age romance scene.”

“That’s stupid.” Bakugou stated. “Who honestly cares about that shit?”

You furrowed your brow. It was almost too easy to get worked up when you were talking at your laptop. That and being cooped up in your house for weeks probably made your emotions ten times stronger than usual. “Maybe I do.”

He blinked confused. “What?”

“Maybe I was hoping for a stupid teenage promposal and awkward slow dancing and cute stupid lovey confessions at a waste of fucking money dance.”

Mina looked all too amused at Bakugou’s stunned expression. Sero’s eyes were flickering around his screen while Kirishima’s head was directly downward to avoid confrontation. You felt your face reddening as the seconds passed.

“I didn’t… you aren’t…” Bakugou furrowed his brow and looked more and more stoic as moments passed. You quickly began regretting your comment. Just because you had been looking forward to prom doesn’t mean you had to force your excitement on to others.

“Bakugou… I didn’t mean to—”

“I gotta go.” He logged off the chat and you felt your stomach knot. You hadn’t meant to offend him. You shouldn’t have gotten upset that he ruined your stupid fantasies.

“I should apologize.” You muttered.

“Don’t bother,” Mina waved your comment off. “He’ll walk it off. Let’s watch a Netflix movie.”

The boys agreed and you exited the chat to pull Netflix up in a separate tab. Although the others were vocal throughout whatever movie Mina and Sero had argued over, you were absentmindedly zoning out at the dress hanging in the corner of your room. You really hoped you hadn’t ruined your friendship with Bakugou over something as stupid as a school dance. Even if you had been looking forward to it for such a long time, it wasn’t fair to take out your frustrations on him.

When the movie ended you contributed as little as you could their discussion about what you’d watched and helped schedule the next big online hangout that weekend. When everyone logged out you took a deep breath and stared at the mound of texts and worksheets lying on the nightstand beside you. Reluctantly, you realized it was probably time you stopped avoiding the coursework you’d been assigned.

Thankfully, the moment you opened your Algebra text your phone vibrated on the mattress beside you. A sign that you were meant to procrastinate work one night longer. You slammed the book shut happily and grabbed your phone.

Bakagou: Look out your window

               You read the message over several times before wrapping yourself in your comforter and crawling out of bed to your second-story window. When you pulled back the curtain to peer through the glass your jaw went slack, and your phone fell from your limp hand.

               Beneath your window was Bakugou, standing in your yard holding a poster with ‘PROM’ written in black sharpie in one hand and a handful off daisies in the other, clumps of dirt still attached to the roots. He was dressed in a charcoal button-up and dark slacks, and his hair that had been a wild mess just hours ago was now tame. You stared confused for several long moments before hurriedly undoing the windows lock and pushing it open.

               “What are you doing?” You shouted.

               Even from the second story you could see his face turning red as he answered. “The fuck does it look like I’m asking you to prom!” He waved the half-assed poster around as if you somehow missed it.

               “I know,” you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t fight the grin taking over your face. “But we don’t have prom.”

               “It’s supposed to be symbolic.” His grip on the poster tightened to the point you could see it crinkling near his hand.

               “I thought Prom was a waste of time?” You leaned lazily into the palm of your hand as he narrowed his eyes at you.

               “It is, but apparently it matters to you so…” His scrunched up his nose and kicked at the ground. “Are you going with me or not?”

               You started to chuckle. “Yes. Obviously, I’ll go with you.”

               He looked almost relieved at your answer. “Thank fuck.”

               You smiled fondly at Bakugou who stretched his arms above his head before a frown overtook your face. “This is so stupid.”

               His eyes widened briefly. “Well, I didn’t have a lot of fucking time. I know the poster is ass and the flowers are from my yard, but it’s not like I can give them to you anyway so—”

               “No.” You waved your arms frantically in front of you. “No, you’re amazing.” You clarified and a small smile appeared on his face causing your heartrate to quicken. “I’m mean this.” You gestured toward the sky. “It just wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”

               “How was it supposed to go?”

               You felt your face flush. You stumbled over your words before deciding that he drove all the way here and if that wasn’t a sign you were meant to have a fairy tale prom night you didn’t know what was. “Well, first off you wouldn’t have to stay in my yard like this.”

               “That does make it a little difficult.”

               You nodded your head. “I’d be wearing my way too expensive dress. We’d get to take awkward photos and slow dance together and…” It was taking all of you not to turn away from his intense gaze. You urged yourself to continue. To finally say what’s been on your heart for years. “I’d probably tell you that I’ve been stupidly in love with you since Freshman year.”

               You gripped the windowsill tightly to keep your nerves to a minimum, but the cocky smirk Bakugou gave you did bad things for your health.

               “If we weren’t in a pandemic...” You added. “That’s probably how it could have theoretically happened.”

               He nodded his head and chuckled. “And, theoretically, I’d probably respond by saying something stupid like I’ve liked you for a while too. Maybe I’d try kissing you if you’d let me.”

               You smiled so wide your cheeks began hurting. “Well, hypothetically speaking, if that had happened, I probably would’ve let you.”

               “Yeah?” Bakugou smirked.

               You nodded.

               You both smiled at each other and Bakugou ran a hand through his hair. You’d give anything to sprint downstairs and out your front door to tackle this boy in a hug right now. Every nerve in your body was screaming at you to kiss him and the fact that you couldn’t was driving you insane.

               “Well, theoretically, if I were to ask you on a date. What would your answer be?” Bakugou raised an eyebrow in your direction.

               “I’d say McDonald’s parking lot next Monday?”

               He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not going on a date at a McDonald’s parking lot.”

               You pushed out your lips in a pout and crossed your arms. “No fun.”

               “Is that a yes?”

               “Obviously it’s a yes.” You rolled your eyes. How could he ever think you’d say no. Especially after tonight. “I’m just upset it’ll take so long.”

               “We talk every day.”

               “Not the same.”

               He rolled his eyes, but a smile dusted his lips. “I waited this long. What’s a little quarantine gonna do?”

               You weren’t sure your face could get any redder, but after that comment you were sure you had invented a new shade. He left that night resting a bouquet of garden flowers in your yard and a promise to see you in the distant future. You watched him drive off down your street, staring long after his car had disappeared. You rested your head against the windowsill, wrapped your blankets tightly around yourself, and continued to smile until the muscles in your cheeks ached.

               Somehow, your prom night turned out better than you could have imagined.

[words-for-holland]

Happier (5) | T.H.

Summary: Harry and Harrison made it to New York without witnesses. One secret is revealed and a relationship could be broken up for good. What will the future hold for Y/N and Tom?

A/N: Everybody buckle up and grab your tissues, we’re in for a bumpy ride. Lemme know how you feel after this! Was it what you expected??

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Guilt

It’s one thing to keep a secrets, but it’s another thing when you’re hiding it from the people you love. For Kate, she was becoming consumed in her own guilt as each day passed. Everyday her breaths would shorten, her heartbeat quicken, and her conscience relentlessy invading her inner thoughts. Kate tried to find all the possibilities to avoid the truth, and make everyone happy...but it didnt matter. One way or another, someone was going to get hurt.

Kate stood in front of Harrison and Harry at her doorstep. While she was relieved and excited to see them, a slight tinge of fear was present. “How are you going to find out the truth?” She asks calmly as Harrison and Harry made their way into the apartment. Kate picked up her phone, checking for an message. None showed up.

“Well, we might have found something. A clue maybe, but we’re not sure.” Harry explained as he picked up his macbook, turning it on.

“Is Y/N here?” Harrison asked, and as if on cue she appeared, heavy bags under her eyes.

The moment Y/N laid eyes on the two, she couldn’t believe it. Her hands quickly rubbing the sleep from her eyes, almost convinced it was a dream. “What? Harry? Harrison? What are you guys doing here?” Y/N excitedly asks. She made her way towards the boys giving them a long awaited hug. “I missed you guys.” She whispers.

“We want to help you.” Harrison says as he pulled away. “The unknown number? We might have an idea.”

Y/N looked at them suspiciously, checking her phone for cryptic messages. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

They both shook their head. “We didn’t tell anyone back home. As far as anyone knows, Harrison and I are going on a 3 day hike with little reception.” Harry reassured her with his boyish smile. Y/N look at him with admiration. He may not look like his brother, but his tone had Tom written all over it.

“Great. Just make sure your location is off on your phones..they could be watching us.” Kate warned as she checked her phone again.

Harrison looked at Kate with sympathy. In the years he’s known her because of Y/N and Tom’s relationship, she always seemed to be the sweetest most loyal friend out there. He was happy that Y/N had someone like Kate in her life. Not to mention it was also a plus that she was fairly pretty, even with the worry written all over face, she was still beautiful to Harrison.

“Hey.” Harrison spoke out for Kate’s attention. “We’re gonna figure this out. I promise.” While Kate nodded, she silently knew that this was not going to end well.”

“Wait...so Tom? Is he—?” Y/N asks the boys with anticipation.

Harrison knowing, exactly what Y/N was asking before she could even finished answered swiftly. “No! Of course not!” He laughs as if it was the silliest thing to answer. “Y/N, Tom loves you. He still does.”

“But the pictures..”

“Was a PR stunt set by Natalie’s publicists.” Harrison finished. “He’s doing a project that Natalie somehow got involved in, and they wanted a PR relationship to sell it. He didn’t want to at first, but then they showed him pictures of you and some div.”

“Hey he’s not some div! Matt’s a good guy.” Y/N defends. “Sweet actually, but I turned him down at the end of it. We’re just friends.”

Then it clicked. “Wait. You said that Tom saw the pictures?” Y/N asked trying to piece it together. “How did he get pictures?”

Harry and Harrison took a moment to think it through. “Well...Natalie’s publicist showed it to Tom.” Harry answered.

“But we don’t know where she got the pictures from.” Harrison added. “My money was on Natalie...still is.”

“Cmon mate. There’s no way she could have gotten pictures in New York and suddenly fly back to London.”

Kate slowly made her way to her own room, no longer wanting to be part of the conversation. They were getting too suspicious, and the more they questioned, the more nervous she got.

“Well maybe the unknown number sent it.” Harry said as he continued to be deep in his thoughts. “Or they found out on that fan account you found Harrison.”

“Wait? Fan account? They know?!” Y/N freaked out. Three years into making sure she was kept in the shadows, and it went all down the drain. If it there were fan accounts then it would only make it harder to finding out who really did sabotage her relationship. Let alone everyone’s lives.

“We don’t know yet, but Harrison found a fan account that was posting about Tom and you. Not together at least, but seperately. The weird part is...barely few people follow it, so we’re not sure what it means.” Harry explained, as he tried to pull up the account. “Oh no.”

“What? What do you mean ‘Oh no’?” Harrison panicked.

“I cant find the account.” Harrison said as he tried to pull it up, but the page disappeared.

In the nick of time, a message was sent to all three of them.

Unknown

Looks like you’re back to square 1 ❤️

“Shit! How did they know?” Harrison questioned in anger. “We were this close!”

“It’s okay Harrison. I appreciate that you guys tried, but it’s a lost cause.” Y/N consoled him, rubbing his shoulder.

“It won’t be. We’ll find another way.” Harry encouraged as he hugged them both. “By the way, where’s Kate gone?”

All three looked up to notice she was missing. Y/N waved it off, assuming it was just one of those days. “She probably went to bed early. Kate gets tired easily, nowadays. It might be because of her new job on top of watching out for me. Its a lot to take on for a person.”

The reasoning seemed valid enough Harrison and Harry. Plus it was Kate they were talking about, she always had Y/N’s back from day one, she wouldnt blackmail any of them or ruin Y/N and Tom’s relationship..right?

Late in the night, Harrison had trouble sleeping because of the jetlag. Since it only was a medicore 2 bedroom apartment, Harrison and Harry slept in the living room on the sofa bed. Luckily it was big enough for the both them and they didnt have to resort to cuddling. Harrison lied on his back as he looked out to the NYC view, thinking about everything and nothing at all. He smiled, thinking about it all. For a very serious couple, a lot of shit has gone down and yet here he was with trying to save it. He cared about the two so deeply, they were his family and family never turns their back on the other.

Then he heard something, whispers coming from the hall. Harrison didn’t dare to make a move but he trained his ears to listen carefully at the voice.

“Im telling you they are getting suspicious.” The voice whispered into the phone. It sounded like Kate’s and Harrison continued to listen in.

“No.No. I sent the damn pictures to you for a reason. No one told me that they would come here. I wasn’t prepared for that.” Kate continues as she paces in the corner.

Pictures? Harrison was awake more than ever, as he quickly shook Harry, and told him to stay quiet. They continued to listen.

“Look I did everything I was told to do. She got what she wanted, now —” Kate stopped in her tracks as she saw Harry and Harrison in front of her. Immediately she dropped the call, her lips moving, unable to find the words.

“How could you?” Harry said his brown eyes glaring at at the girl who just betrayed her best friend. “She was your best friend! How could you?!” He spoke louder.

Kate tried her best to quiet them down, but there was the point. She knew this day would come. “You don’t understand.” Kate whispers, looking at the ground. “I was only doing this to protect Y/N.”

“Protect Y/N? Blackmailing her? Sending pictures of her and a guy to Tom, so he would turn against her? That’s protecting her?” Harrison questioned, hurt by her actions. If he was hurt, then surely It would hurt Y/N far worse.

Y/N comes out of her room as she sees the three gather together, glaring at each other. “Hey..w-what’s going in?” She asks nervously.

“Why don’t you tell her Kate?” Harry spits out as he gestures to Y/N. Kate looks into her best friend’s eyes tears welling up. Y/N had fear struck into her face, afraid of what she had to say.

“I’m so sorry.” She cries. “I didn’t have a choice. She would have ruined our friendship if I did.”

“Kate. What.Did.You.Do?” Y/N asks, emphasizing each word to the question.

Kate shook her head as she let out a deep sigh. “Im the reason your pictured with Matt got out Tom.”

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming. She didn’t want to believe it. “Please tell me you’re lying.”

“Im sorry Y/N. I swear I didnt mean for this to get out of hand. I was threatened that if I didn share them, then they would say something that could ruin our friendship..and...I didnt want that to happen.” Kate frantically explains, sobbing at her no good explanation.

Y/N shook her head, her face switching from sadness to anger. “Looks like you didn’t need them to ruin it at all for you. Now you’re gonna tell me what you know and then Im packing my stuff and Im moving out.”

Kate sobbed as she try to plead to her ex-bestfriend to stay. “Look I’ll tell you everything okay, but it’s not much.” She takes a deep breath before she continues. “I was the one that started the rumors and created the fan account Harry and Harrison saw.”

“Why?” Y/N asks, her disappointed face unchanging.

“I was jealous of you at the time. Y/N you had everything I could have ever wanted in my life. A job, a boyfriend that doesn’t leave you, a family that loves you, and the fame which you didn’t even want to accept with open arms. You were always a step ahead of me at something and I was tired of it. So when you told me you felt uneasy about Natalie when she first moved in, I sold that info online and twisted the story so that it looked like Tom liked Natalie and they were a potential couple.”

“Oh my god.” Harrison said as he let his head down. “You made Natalie think that Tom was in love with her secretly thats why she had become so persistant.”

Kate slowly nodded as she took another breath. “As for the fan accounts I can’t tell you much because I was just asked to create them by the Unknown number.”

“Wait so you’re not the unknown number?” Harry asked confused.

Kate shook her head. “I don’t who it is. Im just a vicitim as much as you guys are.”

“No cut that bullshit. It’s because of you that all of our lives are a mess. It’s because of you that I had to lose the most important thing in my life. So don’t say you’re a fucking victim when all you really did was try to save your own ass.” Y/N yelled.

“You didn’t have to if you were so confident in your relationship with Tom.” She spat back.

“I love Tom with all my heart, but I was referring my best friend. I never want to see you again.” Y/N states, emotionless. No one had ever seen Y/N like this. In fact no one had ever seen her mad as she was on this very day. The day she lost her best friend.

Y/N went to her room to quickly gather her belongings, stuffing them back in the bag. Her phone was ringing and she didnt hesitate to pick it up.

“Tom...” she answers, holding back her sobs.

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl​ @ifilosemyselfagain @hevjadams @averyfosterthoughts​ @fangirl-with-a-mission @drishtisikarwar @eridanuswave​ @ifntelyinspirit​ @trumpettay @astridcommings @parkershoco @racewife2004 @sleepybesson

[paradiselostbythedashboardlight]

Quarantine, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Wrote 430,943 Words of Prose in a Year

As we are coming up terrifyingly fast on a full year of quarantine with no end to the pandemic yet in sight for most people, I’ve been taking some time to reflect on the last year of my existence in a state that most people now refer to as quarantine. Since March of 2020, I, like most other sane people in my country, have stopped traveling, going to stores, seeing all but a limited group of other humans, and begun having recurring nightmares about being in crowds without a piece of cloth over my nose and mouth.

Suffice to say, it has been a bit stressful.

The other thing that I have done since COVID-19 began rapidly spreading across the globe last year is write over 430,943 words of fiction. 

The number seems insane to me still. That is (approximately) one Gone With The Wind, one entire Lord of the Rings series, or the first four Harry Potter books. That is still sadly not yet War and Peace (but who knows… the pandemic isn’t over yet).

So now that I am looking back, I find myself with one question: how did this happen? Why did I do this? What does this mean about my life this year?

Since apparently I answer best by writing a lot, let’s begin at the beginning. Let me tell you a story. I’ll keep it short, I swear.

Part 1: Blast From the Past

In March of 2020, I was still in the midst of an academic semester. There was a long academic document to write and a class to teach. However, as quarantine abruptly robbed me of most of my usual commitments, I was suddenly thrust into the position of having more time on my hands than I knew what to do with. Consequently, I decided to break out the Nintendo Switch I’d gotten for Christmas and revive a childhood interest in video games.

And boy did I. I played the games I owned for all they were worth. I played them during the evenings when I had no social engagements to attend. I played them during the Zoom meetings I was already struggling to pay attention to. By the end of March, I had finished one game, and it had set the wheels turning in my brain.

Here’s a fact about me: I don’t usually tend to write or read a lot of fanfiction about things that I consider really really good. Basically, fanfiction for me has always been an impulse born from incompletion or imperfection. I see no need to add to a perfect story (although I happily consume and create fanart). But for something enjoyable and yet slightly unsatisfying? That’s fanfic territory, bud.

So by April, I had developed a sort of epic fanfiction for this video game I was playing. It was one of those magnum opus kind of ideas, a grand retelling of the story with a huge sprawling plot and Themes (™). 

At first, it was merely a thought experiment that lived only in my head, a sort of entertainment to ponder in the hours before falling asleep. What changed? Well, a friend of mine decided to also write a fanfiction on the same video game and she kindly consented to let me read it.

Suddenly, I was ravenously hungry to read and to write and to share and to consume. I wrote a hundred thousand words of this fanfic in April and into early May, sending each chapter to my friend and being spurred onward by her kind comments. 

The fic became a gargantuan endeavor full of strange little challenges I set for myself. It was a canon-divergence, requiring plotting, worldbuilding, a darker and grimer tone. For some reason, I decided to write each chapter from a different character’s perspective, making the final product into a series of essentially short story character studies which together formed a plot.

By the end of May, the story was published for the world to see. It was well-received, although not particularly popular by fandom standards. And that was the end. I had gotten out my pandemic crazies, the semester was over and now I could move on. I had made my peace with the source material, plumbing all of the little details that I wanted to examine and creating a narrative that I found satisfying.

It was over.

Part 2: Summer Lovin?

Except that it wasn’t.

Confession: as I had been posting my giant fanfiction, I had also begun to explore the fan community itself, mostly curious to see some nice art and gather a bit of demographic info about what was popular within the community. As a result, I found a fanfic recommendations page. Among the recommendations was one author who kept popping up and i finally decided to give the fic a read.

Woah. It was good. Like, really good. Like, professional quality writing and themes that seemed designed to appeal to me. I devoured everything that the creator had posted in a week and then subscribed to eagerly wait for more.

As June rolled around, I realized that I had a problem on my hands. My great big gen masterpiece was finished, but this author had gotten me hooked on something else, something with a nefarious reputation online: shipping.

The term du jour for this seems to be “brain worms” so let’s just say that reading other fanworks had given me some brain worms. Inspired this time not just by the source material of the game, but now the fan community itself, my mind began to develop another idea.

I wrote the fic, about 11k, in a single afternoon of frantic writing. When I finished it, I knew it was one of my strongest pieces. It had just come together, a combination of all the thought that I’d been brewing up and a stylistic execution that just worked with the story I wanted to tell.

I posted it on a new account. Shipping seemed vaguely shameful to me still and my mom reads the other account.

To my surprise, the fic blew up. It got so much more attention than my long fic ever had. Even more significantly, a fan artist actually drew a gorgeous comic of the pivotal scene, completely out of the blue! I was essentially thunderstruck. Honestly, it was probably the first time in my life that I’d ever received so much positive reinforcement from a piece of writing.

While I’d written short stories for undergrad workshops, they’d never been particularly good and I’d never gotten particularly great feedback on them. I’d applied and been rejected by more MFAs and literary magazines than I could count. I’d pretty much resigned myself to writing for an audience of me and me alone (which I don’t mean to sound tragic about, writing for you is great and fun!)

But receiving so much support and praise and feeling like I’d made other people happy or sad or moved? There’s nothing better.

This makes my decision to write another fic for the ship sound vaguely cynical, the action of a person driven by an addiction to praise. I mean, no lie, aren’t we all a little addicted to approval?

But my next fic was another long one, an 80k passion project modern AU that I dreamed up while spending a slow summer alone with my books and only able to leave the house for long rambling walks in the woods. The premise was essentially about characters attending a five year college reunion, something that I myself had missed due to COVID in May of the same year. The fic quickly became a way for me to process thoughts on a lot of topics in my life ranging from relationships to politics to mental health to classical literature.

This fic was also received with far more attention than I was used to and, as a result, I finally joined the notorious Twitter dot com where I found people talking about my fic unprompted, eager to follow me and like my every random thought.

I can’t say that this process was not without its ups and downs. Fandom has changed, in many ways for the better, since my last engagement with it during the 2013 Supernatural days on Tumblr. While fan friendships are often idealized or demonized, they are pretty much like any other human friendship (okay, maybe a little bit more horny on main). There is potential for amazing connection as well as pettiness. But in a year where many people suddenly had no social spaces that were safe anymore, I’m glad that I found a new line of communication with the world.  

So I kept writing fics for the ship, producing a lot of work that I am genuinely proud of and making connections with other people who enjoyed it enough to leave a comment.

To conclude this section, I was in fandom again. While I had not seriously engaged with a fan community since around 2014, I was back with a vengeance. And I had discovered an important truth about what unlocked my ability to write more than I ever had before: community support.

Not simply the kudos and the views. It was the comments. The discourse. The discussion. To add and contribute my thoughts and ideas to a greater network of thoughts and ideas that fed off of one another.

Often I had seen people complain about there not being enough fanworks for particular media or characters. Now I knew the secret. The comments and the community created the works. If I commented on other people’s fics, the more likely they were to write more. I made a resolution I have tried to keep, to comment on any story that I legitimately enjoyed reading, even if I had no particularly intelligent thing to say about it.

Part 3: A Novel Idea

By late October, I had produced a considering oeuvre for my ship of choice and was enjoying slowing my pace as I planned a few future projects.

Remember, though, how I mentioned not having engaged with fandom for the past 5 years? Well, that didn’t mean I hadn’t been writing.

For the past 4 years, I have won NaNoWriMo and completed 4 novels of over 100k each in length. These projects have been massively fun and improved my confidence with executing stories at the scope that I desire.

And so in November 2020, I settled down to write another novel. November is always a sort of terrible time write a novel if you work in academia, but this year, I had more time than usual. I set out to write a comedy fantasy novel, something mostly lighthearted and full of hijinks in order to pretend away some of the quarantine blues (which by this point were well established in my psyche).

This year in particular, I was reminded that writing a novel is… harder than fanfic. That seems like a very obvious point, but I’d written novels before. Suddenly, though, I was realizing how much a novel requires you to set up the world and the characters, while fanfic can be pretty much all payoff all the time.

While the fanfic flowed in wild creative bursts of energy, the novel required diligence of another sort. I wrote 2,000 words every day for two months. It was a grind. Sometimes, it was a slog. 

And sometimes it just wasn't good. The thing about writing your own novels is that the first draft is way more likely to be not good. You’re balancing a lot and it’s easy to let a few balls that you have in the air drop for a chapter or two, with no recourse but to go back and edit later.

I finished the novel by writing a final speedrun of 6k on new years eve, ending my 2020 with another project under my belt. No one has read it. Not even I have reread it.

I’m still glad that I wrote it. I’ll write another one next year. No one will read that one either.

Sometimes, we write for ourselves and no external validation is necessary.

Part 4: Where are they now?

January of 2021 is somehow now behind me, which is terrifying. I’m still writing. Mostly fanfic, although occasionally I go doodle around with some original ideas that are more conceptual sketches for the next novel.

As for the fanfic, I think I still have a few more good ideas left in me, but  I will probably leave it behind before the year is out. That feels a little bittersweet, a sort of temporary burst of fun and friendship that I wonder if I’ll ever experience again.

Coming to the end of this reflection, I suppose I should make a summative statement about what it all means.

In the end, it might not mean a lot. There are some small takeaways. 

It turns out that encouragement makes you write more! Who knew? Also, more free time makes you write more! Wow!!!!

The point that I think this reflection exercise has shown me, the point that I think matters more than any other, is that writing is a way to process my thoughts. Even if it is through the lens of ridiculous video game fanfic or novels about sad wizards, my writing is my way to make sense of my own mind. 

And sharing that is special. If you share it with online strangers, with your family on Christmas Eve, with your close friend who has become even closer and dearer to you since she let you read her work, or just with your mom (the one personal legally required to read your damn novel if you want to share it). To share writing is to give someone a little peek at your beliefs about the world.

And right now? When we’re still isolated and bored and scared and in desperate need of distraction? Binge some TV, play Nintendo, read a book. Take in other people’s thoughts.

But put down your own somewhere as well. It’s a conversation.

And for once, it’s a conversation that doesn’t have to take place on fucking Zoom.

[nikyri-art]

After so long the first “chapter” is finally here! :’D This will hopefuly be a short illustrated novel series. The story takes place before the events of Borderlands 3. I would never be able to make this without the help of my sweet friend @border-spam who provided my with so much support, great ideas, inspiration and with her help to rewrite this. Actually it’s kind of colaboration of me, my man and her. Since my man helped with rewriting too. Huge Thanks to them because without them editing it, I would never post it. <3  . . . Usually, this would have been resolved in just a few minutes. Having a team of his own technicians to take care of streaming issues was surely one of his greatest ideas. He still has to check up on them directly every so often, mostly for his own assurance that everything is running smoothly, but today, what should have been a quick check in was taking longer because some idiot meat sack follower had damaged some streaming equipment. Because of that dumbass, Troy has been left trying to get this tech repaired and the stream online before Tyreen loses her patience with the delay. Luckily, one of his most trusted editors was around to help him with cable replacement.

Troy sits in front of the monitor array, nervous as time ticks on, bouncing his leg while impatiently watching the little symbol on the monitor in front of him, waiting for it to signal the connection is back ON. His ECHO’s screen next to him updates with new pings so quickly it’s constantly lit, that’s how often his Godly sister is messaging him, and each new blip and ping from the echo makes him even more frustrated.. but he tries his absolute best to keep it inside, and not to aim his inner anger at the girl that has offered him help.

She’s the one currently sat under the desk beneath him, expertly fixing the cables running under it. A hugely welcome help, considering he’d never be able to fit under it to try himself.

Tinkers are best for these kind of repairs, smaller hands able to quickly handle finicky tech, able to get into places he can’t because of his height. His editor isn’t exactly a Tink, but you could easily mistake her as one due to her small size.

Just as he feels himself ready to snap, Tyreen’s constant pings and the delay on the stream causing his frustration to reach boiling point, a victorious laugh erupts from her under the desk. “AH-HA! YESSS!”

The symbol on the monitor finally turns green, and his scowl shifts into a genuine smile. “Helllll yeah, we are live baby!” His left arm quickly works the keyboard, testing the stream tech and getting it set up, until a gentle tap on his knee breaks his concentration.

“Umm, it’s not like I don’t enjoy the fabulous view from between your legs… but could you please let me out?” Her soft voice pleads from under the table.

He smirks, and pushes his chair back just enough to make her think she is free, but instead hunches down, looking under at her with his trademark shit-eating grin.

“I don’t know Ari, can I? Honestly, I really like you being down the-” he is interrupted as his face is gently pushed away by a really small hand. As soon as he shifts backwards, she crawls out and dusts off her jeans while giving her God a playful smile.

Any other cultist would pay with their life for daring to touch the God King like this, but she’s somehow special to him. Maybe it could even be called a friendship of some kind. Or at least, that’s how he sees their whole relationship. They’ve worked together almost every day for three years, and as the years passed he’s found himself talking to her, enjoying her company, choosing to be around her..  but Troy is too busy running the cult to have time for real friendships, and the only people he spends any time with besides his sister are the people in his editing team.

It’s a rare thing for him to find someone like her, someone who isn’t just a bloodthirsty idiot screeching psychotically. Someone who actually has enough brain cells to have a real conversation. That what drew him to his little friend over time. She does, of course, respect him as a God, but she does treat him.. differently. Something that feels almost like those fleeting nice moments he shares with Tyreen sometimes, facades forgotten every once in a while. His God King persona really dislikes that this woman dares to treat him like anything less than a deity, but the lonely man inside of him secretly wishes she’d do it more. It’s a kind of closeness he craves desperately.

He returns the grin and stands up, ready to leave. “Nice! Now we can finally start the stream!”. His Echo lights up one more showing Tyreen’s name again, and he curses under his breath and picks it up, bracing himself to answer the onslaught of messages. While he begins to text his sister, he notices his friend silently standing to his side, staring. Staring at his chest, to be exact. Staring so intensively she’s paused in her tracks and not left yet.

Many people stare at Troy, and for many reasons. Cultists stare in adoration and respect, the “civilised” assholes he spends unwanted time around stare in disgust, but she’s staring in a different way, and that’s why it’s sparked so much curiosity in him.

She doesn’t notice he’s completely aware of her awe as he breaks the silence. “Heh, I know it’s really hard not to get a good eyeful sweetie, but don’t forget to blink every once in a while.” he purrs.

Again, just as before, his attempt to fluster her doesn’t work. Maybe that is why he enjoys being near her so much, she isn’t as easily controlled as everyone else, and he’s noticed over time that she actually does have a couple of similar tricks as his up her sleeves as well.

She looks up at him and he’s almost insulted by her perfectly controlled expression, feigning complete boredom, like his last line hadn’t even landed. “I wasn’t staring, I was wondering.”

“Where.. did you even get those tattoos?”

Now she really has his attention. “The guys who tattoo the psychos are really terrible at it, but yours look actually, well, professional.” His ECHO keeps beeping and flickering, frantically alerting him that he should have left and been on stream, but this little rascal just hit a real sweet spot, and there is no way he’s going to leave right now.

The urge to smile was too strong, and he lets out a soft laugh as she continues to look up at him, so confident and relaxed in his presence despite being barely taller than his navel. Even without realising it, she just appreciated his work. He’s the artist behind the iconic Calypso tattoo on his chest. It was a long process he’d taken his time with after coming to loath the shitty arm tattoos he got from some jackhole years ago. He’d stopped trusting others to tattoo him and taken up the craft himself. The skull on his shoulder was the only older one that looked at remotely decent even before the siren tattoos burned right through it, and he was grateful the rest had been burned through badly over time.

He puts his hand around his hip and pushes his coat aside, leaning back to stretch the taught lines of muscle across his inked abdomen and chest to give her a better look.

“Well that’s because they were done by a professional, not some scumfuck idiot. Why so curious about it anyway, sweets?” He croons, enjoying the way she shifts on her feet slightly.  “You fancy on gracing that little body with some art yourself? Maybe something to honor and please your God?”

Using this moment to her advantage, she dares to take a step nearer to him to get a better look at the tattoos. From a closer look, it’s clear that it’s been a while since he’d gotten them, the ink slightly faded against his warm coffee toned skin. The most interesting design is of course the skull that’s hidden behind the hanging chains around his neck, and she wants a better look at it.

Pushing her boundaries yet again, she slowly reaches towards them and carefully shifts them out of the way, gently brushing her fingers against his skin in the process. It would be easy to miss how his breath hitches a little when she touched him, or how goosebumps blossom across his chest, but she was way to close to not notice. He glares intensely at the top of her head, glare burning right through her, and even though she doesn’t look at him, she feels it.

When she finally lifts her head to look into his sapphire eyes, she swears she notices a hint of blush on his cheeks above the wolfish grin. Against her will, the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile. God King Calypso is a very interesting mess of a man once you start to see past the act he plays for most people. Though he is extremely confident and intimidating on the outside, she’s started to suspect that inside hides a shy little boy. Even still, regardless of those slightly red cheeks, he never loses that aura of danger, and she’s nervously aware that she is playing with fire right now..

Why is he so proud of this tattoo? She’s only seen him act like this around something he’s responsible for. Maybe it’s the skull and the rest of the design… He is the creator of almost all of the propaganda art the COV uses, so it wouldn’t really be surprising if he had designed his own tattoos, would it? She crosses her arms in front of her chest and perks an eyebrow as she considers how to respond.

“Yeah… I would love to get some nice tattoos as well, but I don’t trust any of those psychotic bastards to get remotely close to me, let alone touch me…”

“Maaaybe the artist that tattooed you could give me a hand and help me out with mine?“

It’s not a secret that the God King despises bandits. They are below him, and many of the bastards had been killed just for getting too close to his liking. The only reason her and the Tinkers aren’t ever reduced to steaming piles of viscera for daring to interact with him is because they are useful, smart. Of course he wouldn’t let any of those bandit idiots do this tattoo… which means the person tattooing him has to be someone at least modestly sane, someone she could trust. Thats exactly what she’s looking for, since avoiding bandits in general is the best decision regardless.

She notices how much her last question has pleased him… His smug smile grows unnaturally wide, the amount of teeth starting to show is giving her a bad feeling in her guts, and she swallows nervously before be finally replies.

“You want the artist to help out with yours? Oh surrrre I can.” he rumbles triumphantly, and she feels her stomach drop as she realises what’s just happened.

“Finding the right canvas for my art is never easy, but I’m very interested in working on yours.” Her eyes widen further as he leans down to her so that predatory grin fills her vision, just so he can enjoy her surprise from up close.

Now she finally understands why he was so pleased. So eager to discuss this. So happy to play along. Not only did he design his tattoos, he tattooed them as well.

This wasn’t what she wanted at all. It was fine to chat with him about some tech or shared interested when he was in a good mood, but the God King was still a power she did not want to play with. She could get burned, badly, even when she knows he doesn’t hurt anyone from his team as long as they are obedient and respectful.

She desperately tries to get out of this fast. “Ah.. um.. well.. I didn’t really decide on any design yet, I really need to get that right first!” Convincing as that sounds, he navigates around it instantly, too clever to let her slip out of his grasp so easily.

“Oh no problem, I can design something great for you, that wouldn’t be a problem at all.” She swears his eyes are burning through her as her cheeks redden. “Oh, um, I was actually thinking about getting a piercing first, for a start?” his smile grows wider. “After all these years spent here, I don’t even have my ears pierced. The holes grew back together, maybe that would be a good start..”

This is exactly why she doesn’t like being alone with him. He’s so good with words, twisting situations to his own benefit. A sly snake, he does anything he can to get what he wants, and he always gets what he wants…

The ECHO in his hand beeps again, giving her a moment of hope, but he ignores it completely, all attention on the shaking woman he’s got trapped in his coils.

“Well lucky you! I’m really experienced with both tattoos AND piercings!” Now it really is too late, he has her trapped, cornered by her own words. He’d picked up on her twisting and changing her opinions just to try and get out of this, and made sure he was a step ahead of her each time.

“Come to my workshop tomorrow morning the same time you normally start work, we can… hmm…  map out some ideas together.”

“See you later Ari.”

A cocky wink later and he finally leaves the room, leaving the poor girl standing there hopeless….

[jaehyeonsgf]

dear friend

summary : mark’s therapist suggests that he picks up journaling and mark uses it explore his friendship with you through the years. 

tw : car accidents leading to death.

-

Mark nibbles the tip of his pen in search of what to write, of where to begin. His therapist recommended that he starts keeping a journal, to keep track of his thoughts and emotions. Somehow Mark decides to write it to you because you’d understand. You’ve always understood him. You’d be the only person he felt comfortable sharing his unfiltered thoughts.

-

“Where do I start?” Mark asked, hands grazing the faux leather cover of the journal his therapist had bought for him.

His therapist start smiled kindly – the kind of smile that was practiced to perfection. “Anywhere Mark. The beginning would be good.”

-

Dear friend,

Today my therapist suggested starting a journal, so I’m writing to you. I think you’d understand, you’ve always understood me anyways. I really don’t know where to begin so I’ll start from the start. With us.

I remember the first day of elementary school. You were beside me. You took your small hands and held mine. You squeezed it and it reassured me. It was enough to get my tears to stop spilling out of my eyes.

“Mark!” Your voice was sharp, “Today we are grown-up!” You declared so loudly that even other kids took notice of you.

The other students’ parents were pointing at us and laughing. They thought we were so cute.

“Are they sibling?” one of the parents asked your mother.

Before your mother could answer her, you did with all the confidence a seven-year-old could have.

“No, Mark isn’t my sew-bling,” you frowned at the word ‘sibling’, “Mark is my huss-band!”

I just nodded enthusiastically. We both didn’t understand why the adult were laughing at our ‘cuteness’. We were very sincere about it. I guess, I hadn’t understood the impact of your words. Or my agreement to it. But even at 7, I knew that if being your huss-band meant that I could stand by your side forever, I would gladly be your huss-band. Whatever that meant.

Later that year, I would fall trying to learn how to ride a bicycle. I had scrapped my knees (the scar is still present now) and the pain had cause tears to flood my eyes. Our parents were too busy getting ready for the barbeque that they hadn’t realise.

But you came running to me. Your little legs carried you as fast as they could to my side. Again, you held my hand and squeeze it.

“You are a big boy now, no more crying!”

Looking back at it, you were always the fearless one, the one that stood by my side and steadied me. Even when my parents weren’t there, you were. I could count on you no matter what. Perhaps that’s why I believed, truly from the bottom of my heart that even if the world crashed and collapsed around us, if I had you, I would be fine.

-

Mark finishes his first entry, and places his journal and his writing pen – that he bought at the dollar store just to write in said journal – on his nightstand. That night i the first night that he felt a sense of peace in his heart. Maybe it was the subconscious spilling of his heart to you (well, not actually you you) again.

For the first time in two years, he has a sorta decent sleep.

He forgets all about the journal until a few days later when he came back from a cabin retreat that Doyoung insisted he’d go.

-

Dear friend,

I just returned from a cabin retreat at Hanuel National Park. Doyoung had insisted that I come along. Said that the whole gang’s gonna be there and that they didn’t want me missing out. I don’t think you’ve met Doyoung, he’s the new addition to the gang. He’s a blunt guy with a good heart. I think you’d really like him if you meet him.

It brought back so many memories. I remember that we first went there when we were fourteen. Our parents had booked a retreat in the mountains during spring break and since it was our first time staying over in the wilderness, you had looked up a bunch of websites, trying to find the best spots of the place.

We had our own cabin. Just the two of us. Our little world.

Most people would go hiking in the day, but not you. You said that you read an article online about one of the most stunning places to stargaze is at Hanuel National Park and that you wouldn’t leave without visiting it at least once.

“It’s totally photoshopped,” I grumbled when you excitedly shoved your phone screen infront of me, showing me the apparent night sky at the park.

You pouted and whined. “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease Mark.”

And even though I preferred to stay in our cabin, reading a chapter from Naruto, I agreed. The way your eyes lit up in delight as you flashed your million dollars smile at me was enough to make up for it. You shoved your backpack full of stuff, and in your moment of frenzy, I think you even shoved some of my stuff in it.

“Dude, do you really need my bag of marshmallow? I thought you said it’d be a quick hike.”

You smiled sheepishly. And I knew what that smile meant. I just groaned as I pulled a windbreak over myself and slipped on my boots.

I still remember the harsh winds blowing through the forest, the claustrophobic fear that tugged in my heart as we pushed our way through the dense foliage.

“If we ever make it back to civilisation, I’m going to kill you,” I huffed.

“When,” you corrected, tossing me a glare, “When we make it back.”

“If.”

You rolled your eyes at me. At least, I think you did. In the darkness of the woods, with the only light coming from your dimmed down phone screen (to save battery) and the cheap dollar store flashlight in my hand, I couldn’t see anything. I could barely see you.

You were afraid too. I could tell from the way you would anxiously look past your shoulder, making sure that I’m following you in your every step as if you would think that I’d ditch you last minute.

I can’t lie and say that thought didn’t cross my mind. But somehow your glances made me irritated that you would even consider that.

“Dude, are we getting there yet?” I asked for the tenth, or was it eleventh, time of the night.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “We just started.”

“I think we’re lost,” I muttered, kicking aside a branch.

“No we are not,” you gritted through your teeth.

But your fearless façade fell the moment the light from your screen disappeared.

“Shit,” you said, suddenly stopping in your track. “Shitshitshit.”

You frantically tapped the screen, and when that didn’t work, you began pressing on all the buttons of your phone. But it was clear that your phone died.

“Shitshitshitshit,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Okay, calm down,” I tried to reassure you. “Let’s just go there another day alright?”

When you started hyperventilating, I thought you were just sad or angry or frustrated that we couldn’t visit the place. And by this point in the night, we had made a considerable distance from the our cabins. Little did I know I was wrong.

“Let’s walk back.”

You stood frozen. I was so confused.

“Let’s walk back,” I said again, this time a little louder.

But again, you just stood there, rooted on the ground. And it took me a moment to realise what happened.

You were scared. Of the darkness.

I hadn’t realise it until you told me later on, that although you were so terrified of the dark, you loved the stars. You had kept yourself steady on the brightness of your phone, ignoring the darkness outside of the screen as you led the way but when your phone died, the darkness came rushing into your vision.

For the first time in our friendship, I was the one that took your hand and led you back to our cabins. The walk back was quiet and somehow it felt longer when we weren’t quarrelling or bantering.

That night I learned that you had fears too. I also learned that you liked the stars. I wonder if you liked the stars simply because they tore through the veil of darkness or if it was because they shone despite the darkness, not letting it consumed them.

I hope it’s the latter. Because then I can say that you were like a star and not in some shitty poetic metaphor. But because of the years that were ahead of you.

-

That night, Mark places the journal in his leather sling bag – the one bag that he uses for everything. Taeyong has told him before that there are bags for everything, but you can’t use a bag for everything.

Mark doesn’t care. There are more things in life that Mark has to deal with outside of his banal fashion.

-

Dear friend, I’m writing to you on a piece of paper, just because I’m on a train, going out of Seoul to Jeju Island. I was reminded of the first time we’ve been separated. My family took a week long vacation to Paris. And yea sure, there was the Lourve, Mona Lisa and the Eiffel Tower but I spent the whole week just marking the days off with little crosses on my calendar. It was also the first time I wrote letters to you. Although by the time my posted letter reached you, I had already been back to Seoul. I wrote about the beautiful sights in Paris, the macarons I ate and that one rude waiter that was cursing at my family in Italian. Back then, I felt good knowing that I had someone to talk to, even if you weren’t physically there with me. Perhaps it’s the same wi

-

Mark curses when he had ran out of space on the napkin. He was too lazy to ask for another napkin so he just neatly folds the blue stained napkin and pushes it safely into his pocket. He spends the rest of the train ride looking out of the window, taking in the greenery that he hadn’t seen in awhile.

Mark is in Jeju for Taeil’s wedding. His therapist encouraged him to come, saying that it would do him some good to get some socialising. Yet, even as everyone mingles in the reception, Mark hides himself on the outside balcony, sipping on some punch.

“Hey stranger,” Doyoung says.

The familiar voice jolts him, bringing him out of his own thoughts. Eerily, he remembers that hey, stranger, was your first words to him when he returned from Paris.

“Hey,” Mark replies, giving the taller man a practiced smile. The same smile his therapist gives him at the end of every session.

“How’s it going? How are you?”

“Good now,” Mark breathes out, hoping that Doyoung doesn’t press any further. Not that he is lying, simply because Doyoung reminds him so much of you. The way his casual smile has a reassuring feeling, the way it echoes your voice in his head “I’m right here”.

And Doyoung doesn’t question him further.

They spend all evening together, Doyoung helps Mark when old friends come up to him and try to catch up by asking about you, Doyoung helps Mark when the banal table conversations bores him to death and Doyoung helps until the wedding ceremony ends. Mark can’t lie, Doyoung helps him forget momentarily about the constant thoughts and it calms him down when he’s with Doyoung.

Maybe, Mark thinks to himself, it’s because Doyoung is a clean slate who knows nothing about the past.

“I’m glad you were there,” Mark says as he enters his cab.

Doyoung stands on the road, nodding and waving at him to leave. “It’s the least I could do.”

-

Mark’s mental health only deteriorated when he arrives back in Seoul. He’s swamped with work and barely has time to breathe and so he forgets about his journal.

He pushes himself to the extreme, taking on projects after projects and numbing himself with work.

It isn’t until he comes down with a serious case of flu, rendering him almost immobile that he remembers about the journal.

-

Dear friend,

It’s been awhile. I’ve been busy at work until now. Unfortunately, no one’s home to take care of me. I’m missing your warm stews and your barrage of scolding. This ache in my heart is a familiar feeling.

I think it was the first year of high school. Of course, we ended up going to the same high school and, as luck would have it, we were in the same class. By this time, we were seventeen, and more importantly, I was seventeen. You didn’t need to hold my hand nor did you need to encourage me. Yet you were still there, right by myself as I walked into the school building.

Half-a-year of high school normalcy later, my family was turned upside down.

See, we both were very coddled, I think you would agree. Our city-lives were considerably better than many others. So my mother’s death was the first thing actual chaos that I’ve experienced.

Who would have known that taking an extra shift would have been so costly?

Mom didn’t have to be there. But she took an extra shift. She said it would go to my college fund. Mine.

She left work at 4 AM that day. Unfortunately she never reached home. A truck driver was drunk driving and, even though she had waited for the green man to light up at the intersection just in front of my home, the driver hadn’t stop.

She died on impact. There was no hoping for another outcome.

You were there with me, on the hospital floor, as I wailed, cursing God. You sobbed silently too.

A simple accident caused the family to fall apart. My dad spiralled into alcoholism and I spiralled into numbness. I lost the woman I had loved the most. The days when you would come straight to my house after school and just sigh at the mess I’ve become, before cooking me warm stew and using it to coax me out of bed.

You’d consider the day a success if I even drank just a spoonful of your soup.

I didn’t tell you but I hated that you were ever-so-polite in my house. The loud and boisterous you also seemed affected by the cursed place that was my house. I didn’t tell you but the silence within those four walls drove me crazy. It was like a hand, choking me until I couldn’t breathe. Each time you’d come over, I wished you would just talk normally. Tell me about your problems. Rant about the petty arguments you had in school. But you never did.

And I’m not blaming you. It was what it was. You did your best.

But the worse had yet to come.

When Ten had sent out a mass invite for his birthday party, you and I were both shocked to receive one. I had gotten a little better then and wanted to go out and have some fun for the first time in a while.

I saw your hesitation. “It’s Ten’s birthday party. Are you sure?”

I knew what you hinted at, the alcohol. I guess a part of you was also fearful that I’d end up like my father. And you were right to.

The thump of muffled music couple with incoherent voices were audible even before the both of us got to the house. I tried to convince you that not all frat parties are bad. That sure, alcohol’s there but there’s no harm right? You tried to shrug it off like it’s no big deal. The pungent stench of beer immediately filled our noes when we walked into Ten’s mansion, but I was used to it. This was the same odour of my father.

You shifted nervously and I wished that we had just left right there and then. But we didn’t.

“Come on,” I plead, “It’ll be fun.”

You didn’t even have the time to respond before Taeyong spotted me. I had a few classes with him before everything went south so I dragged you along toward him.

“Hey, haven’t seen you in awhile man,” Taeyong greeted me. He passed me a red sole cup and it didn’t take a genius to figure out the contents of it.

I rejected it. I knew that alcohol was a poison. I knew that I shouldn’t accept it. There must be more to parties than just loud music and alcohol… right?

My rejection caused the table to look at me curiously. I recognised some of them. Jaehyun and Johnny from the swimmers’ team were there. So was Taeil from the choir. We’ve heard of them. If life was a high school drama movie, they’ll be the clichéd popular jocks.

Suddenly, I felt the pressure to give in, the yearn for some sort of acceptance, even if superficial. You glanced at me, your eyes pleading for me to not take the cup.

I took it. But I didn’t have to drink it… right?

Taeyong smiled before handing another cup to you. I didn’t miss your desperate glances, I didn’t miss you tugging at the hem of my shirt asking for help, an excuse, anything. But I pretended I did.

Of course I did. I had to. Especially hearing how the table began to chortle unkindly at your rejection of the cup.

“Well, I guess even at a party, I shouldn’t have expected you to take it,” Taeyong said as he set the cup back on the table.

All of a sudden, I felt the predatory eyes of the people at the table. For the first time since the incident, I became the normal one whereas you were the weird one.

I should have stepped in and defended her. But I didn’t. I should have left the party and chased after you when you stumbled backwards, eyes brimming with tears before running out. But I didn’t. When the new group of friends that I found myself with started making jokes at your expense, calling you a prude, a goody-two-shoes, a bore, I should have done something, anything. But I didn’t. I laughed with them too.

The dark sadistic string within me felt… acceptance and freedom.

For the first time in our lives, we were truly, truly separated. I thought this was true liberation.

When Johnny asked me why didn’t I ditch you long ago, I didn’t tell them about how you’ve been the cornerstone of my life. Instead I replied with, “I ask myself that all the time.”

That night, as you ran away from my side and I did nothing to stop you, it felt like a new start. A clean slate. Finally I could rid myself of you, the you who knew me better than I knew myself, the you who accepted me for me, the you who’d give up your life in a heartbeat if it was for me but more importantly, the you that knew my deepest, darkest secrets.

It felt like the anchor tying me down for the past seventeen years of my life was finally removed and I could start anew.

-

Mark’s hand aches from writing a few pages worth of journal entries and he blames it on the fact that he hasn’t written anything to you in a while. He flips through the book, cringing slightly at his atrocious handwriting, before closing the journal.

A sigh parts his lips as he thinks back on the past him and how dumb he was.

His therapist told him not to indulge too much in the past, that it steals from the present moment. So he tries to suppress his thoughts and force himself to sleep. God knows he needs it.

  The next morning, or rather, afternoon when he wakes up, he feels slightly better. He checks his phone and sees that his therapist has messaged him, just to check up on him. He types a quick reply, asking to reschedule his appointment to another day.

His father, who has gotten back on his feet, left a note for Mark.

“Son, eat this and feel better! -Dad

P.S my second year of sobriety is coming up, get me present please”

Mark chuckles at his father’s little note. He drags himself to the kitchen, heating up the bowl of soup that his father had prepared. In some ways, Mark could see a silver lining to his mother’s accident. Despite the hiccup of his alcoholism, Mark’s father really grew to be a caring father. Before the accident, Mark wasn’t close to his father at all. Between business meetings and business meetings and more business meetings, Mark rarely saw his father’s shadow at home.

At least now his father takes a more active role in Mark’s life.

As Mark waits for the microwave to be done, he goes back into his room and brings his journal and pen out, setting it on the table. When the microwave finally beeps, he takes the bowl and sets it on the table.

He journals as he eats.

-

Dear friend,

I was thinking about you, and me and high school last night. And all I want to do is apologise. For everything. Like before, I don’t even know where to begin.

The party itself? Or Monday morning when I completely ignored you as you tried talked to me? Or the day in math class when Yuta made a joke about you coming late, saying you were probably selling your body to a teacher to get your good grades, and we I laughed?

I’m sorry. I’m sorry that the gang and I made your life a living hell. I’m sure that they thought it was innocent fun, to make jokes at your expense, to take everything that was good and bad about you and turn it into a joke. And I’m sorry that I laughed along.

I think I was worse than my friends. They did it to entertain themselves. But I had a hidden agenda. You were the personification of all my past hurts, my secrets and the ugly side of myself. Each joke I made, each time I harassed you, it gave me a buzz. In a twisted sense, I was trying to erase you to erase myself.

And you didn’t deserve.

I don’t think you noticed that I noticed but I did. Every time that I took a step in your general direction, I saw you flinch. And I know I shouldn’t have but I fed off your fear of me. In my twisted head, if you were scared of me, you’d never reveal the me that I wanted to hide.

Everyone just seemed to forget that you and I were ever friends. Our friendship became a faded memory for everyone. But not for me.

The hole you left in your absence had left a hole within me and I wished that the hole had blotted out my entire existence. But it didn’t.

So I continued tormenting you. Until graduation day.

Maybe I thought that it was the last time that you’d ever be in my life, so it was fine. Maybe I wanted some sort of closure from us. Maybe in the heat of the moment, the yearning for what we had took over. Either ways, it didn’t matter.

I walked towards you. Your parents were hugging you, your dad picking you up. They were proud of you. I wanted to say that too.

“Hey.”

Your flinch didn’t go unnoticed by your parents but they decided to give us space. You stayed silent, as if waiting for me to make some sick jokes, waiting for me to tear you down just like I had the past two years.

I felt sick to my stomach.

“Graduation day, huh?” I filled the awkward silence between us. “Congrats.”

You shifted uncomfortably. My stomach churned when the fearless girl I knew couldn’t even meet my eyes. “T-thanks…?” Your voice was strained.

“Where are you planning to go, uh, after all these?” I asked, rubbing the back of my neck sheepishly. A part of me was berating me for even trying to approach you.

“Why?” Your voice was soft and shaky.

At this point, the gang had noticed that we were talking. But it’s the last day of school. It felt like the last day I’m going to see you. I felt like I had to do this.

“I just… wanted to catch up?”

I noticed your clenched fist and your white knuckles. I noticed how badly they were shaking. Whether in fear or anger or something else, I would never know.

“We…” you breathed out, “We have nothing to catch up on.”

You turn to leave but I grabbed you by your wrist. Your voice was so so soft that I didn’t hear you telling me to let go until something within you snapped. Was it disgust from being touched by me?

“Stop it! Stop this… this whole thing. First you torment me for two and a half years for what? For for not wanting to drink alcohol? Sometimes I wonder if you actually even loved your parents. How could you do that to them? And me?” Your anger burned brightly in your eyes. It’s the first time your eyes met mine in years. “We were best friends. Us against the world. We did everything together. But I’m not sure if that was just me. Every single day, I playback memories of us, convincing myself that today was a nightmare. Why would my bestfriend turn against me right? Tomorrow will come and you’d be right by my side. But tomorrow never comes.” Your face was red and tears were spilling out of your eyes. People were watching. I didn’t care.

The voice that I’ve silenced for 2.5 years got louder in my head, screaming at me you deserved it. You’re the problem.

“Every single day I hope that you’d come up to me and tell me it’s all a massive prank. Do you know how that drove me crazy?” You took a deep breath, steadying your voice.

Your words were soft, but it cut through in to my heart and wretched it out. “Congratulations. You did it. You’ve won. You’ve became my biggest fear. I hope you’re happy because one of us being happy is still better than none of us.”

-

Mark’s hand stops as he wipes the salty tears that has spilled. Even now, he hates himself for what he did. Two and a half years.

He’d never return it to you.

Fate is a cruel thing.

He starts his pen up again.

-

I should have ran after you that day. But I froze up.

That image of your face streaming in tears will be burned into my mind forever. Because I never saw you again. And I never got the chance to say all the ‘sorry’s I needed.

My world was silent. Then I heard it. We all did.

A loud scream. A screech.

Sirens and chaos.

-

It takes Mark a whole week before he could bring himself to write in his journal again. He recalls the aftermath of your death.

-

His friends, at least those in his clique, tried to understand his pain.

“You’re okay, right?” Jaehyun asked a week after your death.

Mark nodded. “I’m fine, yeah.” That was a lie and everyone knew.

How could he ever explain to them – the people that bullied you – his pain and turmoil? A small voice in his head reminded him that too were part of the people that had bullied you.

Guilt crept into his throat, clutching it tight, just enough to keep him alive but still making every moment a living hell.

-

Dear friend,

I remember the box of letters your parents gave me at your funeral.

-

Mark takes the tape and tapes your last letter to him below the blue ink.

-

Hey stranger.

Today is graduation day. It’s the first graduation that I’m attending without you. And I’ve never felt more alone. It’s scary.

This will be my last letter to you. Today, I’m putting an end to my one-sided love for you.

I’m going to Oxford, do you remember when we were twelve and we promised that we’d get into Oxford together? I bet you don’t.

Then again, we also made the promise that we’d stick together forever and look where we are.

I wonder where you’ll go. I hope you’d be happy.

After everything, I’ve come to a simple conclusion: it’s nice to feel something once in a while, even if it’s pain. Because it reminds me that the first seventeen years of my life was true.

-

“So how did you find this whole, uh, journaling process?” Mark’s therapist asks at their next appointment.

Mark smiles, rather genuinely this time, “There were days that were very painful. But y’know, I think I’m starting to get this whole thing. It’s nice to feel something for once in my life, even if it’s pain. It’s a reminder that I’m alive.”

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (13)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 4.3k (this chapter), 42.9k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

Phil is herded out of the house before he can shower, style his hair, or put in his contacts. As soon as his clothes are finished drying, his parents are pushing him and all of his bags out the door.

“We’ve got someone coming to see the house,” his mum had explained in that half-frantic voice he associates with company arriving. “You’ve got somewhere to be, haven’t you?”

He doesn’t have the gumption to explain that he’s still got hours before he has to be anywhere. Instead, Phil just hoists his bags higher on his shoulders and sets off for the bus stop. The wind isn’t bad today, thank goodness for small mercies, but it still isn’t pleasant to be outside in November. He pushes his floppy, unwashed hair off his forehead and reluctantly sends Dan a message.

It’s still pretty early and Dan might be in class by now, so he doesn’t expect an immediate response. He’s halfway through a Buzzfeed article and leaning against the shaky bus window by the time his phone buzzes.

im omw from class now just meet me at my place

An address follows, close enough to the coffee shop and the Wilkins place for Phil to feel comfortable finding it. He’s not sure how comfortable he is with being in such a small, private place with Dan before spending most of the night with them. He wonders if his brewing feelings and abject confusion surrounding them will be obvious.

Phil bites his lip and taps away from the article. He’s not sure where to start, but he thinks it’s about time that he started looking into gender stuff. He’s lived with PJ for almost two years and been friends with him for longer, but this isn’t something they tend to talk about. Technically, he hadn’t even been told, he’d just picked up on it from conversations around the old Brighton house. PJ isn’t in the closet, but he seems to have the same attitude about his gender identity that Phil has about his sexual identity - it isn’t anyone’s business unless they’re actively pursuing him.

This isn’t about PJ, though. Phil can’t pretend like these bewildered Google searches are in any way an attempt to understand his friend better. This is about Dan.

--

“Dan?”

The girl looks confused enough that Phil thinks he’s gotten the wrong flat for a horrified moment, but then her brow uncreases and she laughs.

“Oh, duh. Sorry, she doesn’t have many people coming to visit.” She waves Phil inside and eyes his bags. “Especially not many that look like they’re moving in. You planning on staying long, mate?”

“Just the night,” Phil says, more or less honestly. His brain is still stuck on the new pronoun. He knows that Dan is fine with any pronouns, and that includes feminine ones, it just feels strange to have someone use the opposite of what most people might assume. “Er, my parents are selling their place and needed my junk out of the way.”

She nods and gestures deeper into the flat. It doesn’t have as many doors as the Brighton house that Phil shares with a rugby team’s worth of people, but it’s still enough to overwhelm him a bit. Seemingly in response to whatever panicked expression finds its way to Phil’s face, the girl laughs. “Winnie’s room is at the end of the hall,” she says. “Her name’s on the door, you can’t miss it.”

“Her name being Winnie,” Phil says slowly.

“That’s what she wants us to call her,” the girl says. There’s an edge to her voice now, a sort of protectiveness that Phil doesn’t know how to respond to.

Phil gives her an uncertain sort of smile and heads down the hallway. The common areas are surprisingly tidy for a student flat, but he still doesn’t feel comfortable there. He finds himself in front of a dark wooden door with a Winnie the Pooh poster stuck to it. It’s not exactly a nameplate, but Phil understands why their flatmate said that.

He knocks lightly, not wanting to disturb the other people who live here and might still be asleep. It’s barely past noon, after all, and Phil remembers what it was like to be a student. Hell, he doesn’t really have a proper sleep schedule now.

“Come in!”

Dan’s room is darker than the rest of the flat, and Phil has to let his eyes adjust for a moment as the door closes behind him. There are blackout curtains over the single window and fairy lights draped over every possible surface, giving the whole place a soft vibe. Phil doesn’t see Dan at first, but then he realises that they’re on the floor with -

“Is that a weasel?” Phil asks without bothering to say hello, dropping his bags carefully. The last thing he wants to do is scare the creature that’s scampering all over Dan’s shoulders and arms.

“Excuse me,” Dan laughs. They hold out the animal for inspection, and Phil joins them on the floor. “This is Tofu, he’s a ferret.”

“Hello, Tofu,” says Phil. He reaches out to gently take the ferret’s paw between his thumb and finger, and he pretends like they’re shaking hands. Dan laughs again, bright and happy, and Phil decides that he really likes seeing Dan in their comfort zone. “It’s very nice to meet you! I’m Phil.”

Tofu makes a squeaking sort of noise and wiggles out of Dan’s hands to roll around on the carpet.

“He’s kind of an idiot,” Dan says fondly. “Pixel is the smart one in this family, but she’s sleeping.”

Phil’s eyes follow Dan’s vague gesture to a surprisingly large, multi-level enclosure. There’s another ferret curled up in there, and Phil assumes that’s Pixel. “Exactly how many weasels do you have?”

“Just the two,” says Dan. They’re smiling so wide that Phil can’t bring himself to look away. Their lips are a dark shade of red, or maybe burgundy, but it’s hard to tell in the low lighting. The dark lines around their eyes are even more shadowed with it, though, and it’s an entrancing sort of effect. “Originally it was just the one, but she got so lonely. I should have gotten an introverted animal, I guess, if I didn’t want multiple, but I didn’t mind. Pixel wanted a buddy, so. Pixel got a buddy.”

“I think even introverts need buddies sometimes,” says Phil.

He’s suddenly so self-conscious about being here in his current state. He’s wearing his trusty denim on denim, which he knows suits him fine, but he’s also got his clunky glasses and can’t remember if he put deodorant on or not. Dan, on the other hand, looks as stunning as always.

That gets even more obvious as they lounge out a bit, uncrossing and stretching their long legs. Their leggings are tight and translucent enough that Phil might find them indecent if there weren’t a short, swishy skirt covering the important bits. When Dan stretches their arms out, too, their unbuttoned flannel falls further open and shows off the cropped band tee underneath.

Most of Dan’s body is covered, really. Only their hands and neck and navel are out, but that’s enough to make Phil’s brain short-circuit. Their hands are distractingly big, but still so gentle when they pick Tofu back up; their neck is long and ends in either a sharp clavicle or a soft, rounded jawline; their tummy is soft like the rest of them and there’s a simple barbell piercing through their belly button that Phil has to force himself to look away from.

“Have you talked to your friends about us going back?” Dan asks, seemingly oblivious to the way Phil is taking them in from head to toe.

“What?” Phil bleats, and then his brain catches up to the conversation before Dan can repeat themself. “Oh, yeah. I texted them about it, and they’re a bit worried, but they’re glad you’re coming along. They were pretty nervous about me doing this alone.”

“PJ said you tend to do stupid shit,” Dan says bluntly. Tofu is climbing up their arms and biting at their hair, but they don’t even react.

“When did PJ say that?”

Dan’s lips curve into a smile. “When he drove me home. We talked about you.”

Normally, a statement like that would make Phil anxious. He still feels it, a bit, that creeping sense of frustration and nervousness that he associates with mild anxiety, but it’s more dull than it would be if Dan wasn’t smiling at him so softly. Something about it makes Phil certain that he’d get an honest answer if he asked what they all said about him.

That certainty and budding trust are enough to keep his loud anxiety at bay, and Phil finds that he doesn’t feel the need to ask.

Instead, he looks around Dan’s room some more. Pixel is still napping soundly, and Phil doesn’t blame her - the room is so quiet and dim and full of pleasing scents from the candles on Dan’s nightstand, Phil can easily imagine curling up somewhere soft in here and nodding off.

The furniture itself is crappy in the way that most students have to deal with, but Dan seems to have an eye for design that Phil has never had. Sure, there’s no bed frame to hold Dan’s mattress, but their duvet matches the monochrome colour scheme of the posters and paintings on the walls, and their pillows look welcoming surrounded by a small collection of stuffed animals. Their desk is organized, but their closet is open and spilling clothes onto the floor a bit. Phil wonders if that’s something Dan had planned on fixing before he got here, or if Dan doesn’t mind having their dresses and jeans and boots on display.

There’s barely any colour at all, really, but it doesn’t feel depressing like Phil would have thought it might.

That’s not exactly true. There’s some colour.

Phil must be looking at the flag on the wall for too long, because Dan makes a humming sort of noise and breaks the comfortable quiet. “I know it’s a bit tacky,” they say, “and it doesn’t match, but… I dunno. I wasn’t able to be out until I got to uni, and I might have gone a bit nuts with it.”

“Yeah,” says Phil. His throat is a bit dry. “I can understand that.”

“It makes me feel safe,” says Dan. Phil turns to look at them again, but he regrets it as soon as he sees the genuine emotion in Dan’s wide eyes. He isn’t good with that. “Like. Knowing I can have it hung here, that I can be open with people without them being upset with me or something. I don’t think the flag itself makes me feel safe? But maybe that’s not true, either. Maybe embracing that part of myself helped me embrace the community as a whole. I haven’t done Pride yet or anything. Maybe next year. But - safety. Comfort. Y’know?”

“I do,” Phil says quietly. “I do know.”

Dan’s eyes go sharp. Phil hasn’t seen them do that before, and it’s unnerving how much it feels like his very soul is under scrutiny. He wants to squirm away from that feeling, doesn’t want any part of himself under a microscope, but he doesn’t want to run like he might normally.

There’s another moment of quiet, where Dan looks at Phil and Phil doesn’t look away, but of course Phil is the first to break.

“Which of those is your favourite?” he asks instead of saying the words he knows Dan is waiting for. He doesn’t want to run, but that doesn’t mean he needs to be more forthcoming. At Dan’s furrowed brow, Phil gestures to the bookshelf. Dan has a lot of books and movies and boxsets and textbooks, more than Phil can take in all at once. “The, uh, the anime. My favourite’s Fullmetal Alchemist. Er, Brotherhood, not the first one, but both are good.”

For a second, it doesn’t seem like Dan is going to allow him to change the subject so easily. But then Tofu bites at their ear and they’re both giggling, the intensity of the moment slinking off to make way for casual conversation.

--

Talking to Dan is easier than talking to some people that Phil has known for years. They put on a show that they’ve both seen and enjoy and they chat the whole time. Phil points out camera and editing choices that Dan hadn’t put much thought to before, and Dan rambles about theories they’d seen on Reddit for so long that Pixel has become Phil’s best friend by the end of it. Dan makes food at some point, their brief absence allowing Phil to look more carefully at the titles on their shelves. They have even more to talk about when Dan gets back, because Phil has a lot of opinions on some of the quote-unquote ‘classics’ that Dan reads and Dan has some opinions on Phil picking the cheese off his sandwich. Phil almost forgets that he’s here for a specific reason, that they aren’t just friends hanging out, until Dan brings out their Polaroid and starts asking questions about what to expect on the haunt.

Phil kind of wishes they could just stay here.

--

Before they left, PJ, Sophie, and Chris had all drawn several Sharpie sigils on a thin piece of scrap fabric and insisted that Phil tie it around his wrist or something. He takes it out of his pocket as he and Dan approach the house.

“Here,” he says, pulling them to a stop and rolling their sleeve up a bit. He ignores their big doe eyes and wraps it around their knobby wrist a couple of times. “Is that too tight?”

“No,” says Dan. They stay still while Phil ties it, and then they raise their hand to inspect it.

“It’s from the gang,” says Phil. “I know it seems like the sigils didn’t help last time, but - well, I dunno. Maybe they did help and it was going to be a lot worse without them. Or maybe they just rubbed off our skin too quickly. But, y’know, I know you don’t believe in this stuff, it just… it makes us feel better. I thought it would be a good placebo for you if nothing else.”

Dan touches the fabric and then smiles, looking for all the world like Phil has given them something precious.

“Thank you,” they say, their voice altogether too sincere for Phil to respond to without some major awkwardness. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m already wearing my thing,” Phil lies. “C’mon, let’s get inside.”

The thing is, Phil figures Dan is the one who needs protecting from whatever is going on in the Wilkins place. They’re the one who got attacked last time, while Phil only dealt with flickering lights and the feeling of being watched. The last thing he needs is for Dan to insist on coming along again only to get themself hurt again.

He’s not sure if Dan believes him or not, but it doesn’t matter. Phil is already shouldering the back door open. He could climb through the window again with a boost from Dan, but he doesn’t think he has enough upper-body strength to pull Dan up after him.

The kitchen is as dark and dusty as ever, but that smothering, creeping feeling of eyes in the walls isn’t present. Phil stands still for a few seconds, waiting for it to wash over him again, but in the end he’s in the same place he figured he’d be from the beginning - listening to the creaking sounds of a house with absolutely nothing supernatural about it. He’s weirdly disappointed, but he imagines that Dan must be relieved.

He turns to Dan to see what they think, but their eyes are just as wide as they’d been the last time.

“Hey,” Phil says, quiet so as not to disturb the dust. “You feel something?”

“No,” Dan admits. They move closer to Phil, twisting their fingers into the cuff of his jacket and holding tight. It’s sort of sweet how they think he might leave them alone in this house, but it’s also somewhat of a nuisance to have a large person attached to him while he’s trying to move quietly.

“Then what’s wrong? Do you need to leave?”

Dan shakes their head. Their teeth dig into their dark bottom lip, and even though they reapplied their lip product before leaving the house, it still ends up on their teeth a little bit. Phil isn’t sure if he’s supposed to point it out or not. “I don’t need to leave or anything, it’s fine. I’m fine. Coming with you was the whole point. I just don’t… okay. Promise not to laugh at me?”

“I think I promise,” says Phil. He gives Dan a reassuring little smile. “But if you break into song and dance or something I reserve the right to change my mind.”

“Shut up,” Dan says, but they’re giggling. “No, I just… I just don’t like the dark, okay?”

It clearly takes something out of Dan to admit that. Phil shifts his hand so he can squeeze Dan’s. “Nobody really likes the dark,” Phil says. “I mean, it’s kind of my job, so I’m used to it, but I wouldn’t mind being somewhere brightly-lit and clean instead.”

“Thanks.” Dan’s cheeks look a bit darker, but that might just be the low lighting. “You can lead the way.”

--

Nothing happens.

There are spiders and dark corners and once or twice a loud noise from outside makes Dan jump and grab at his hand again, but Phil never feels like anything more is going to happen. The walls don’t have anything behind them except maybe rats, and even the attic simply makes Phil sneeze.

It’s frustrating. It’s almost worse than the night that he put his friends in danger, because at least then he knew that he could have a chance at a decent video. Now, there’s nothing to record.

Phil finds himself wishing for a flickering light or a quick shadow. He wants something, anything, to make him feel like he’s doing something productive with his life.

Instead, he just feels like he’s wading deeper into the confusion and shadows of his own future. He doesn’t know where he’s going to go if he can’t keep going back to the darkness of abandoned houses and old cemeteries. He went to uni, sure, but he hasn’t had a ‘real’ job in his life. Unless a month at the stationery store counts. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with figuring out what he ought to be doing with his life if he isn’t chasing ghosts, but he’s not having fun with this anymore.

He’s twenty-six. It’s not old, he’s not old. He’s got plenty of time to figure his life out.

But if he’s spent the last decade wasting all his free time on something that isn’t enjoyable anymore, then he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to forgive himself.

Dan is in his personal space again, pressing close to avoid the encroaching darkness, and they smell like… lavender. Phil remembers spice and mint from them, and he wonders if they’re wearing some kind of perfume today. It’s such a feminine scent that it’s hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that he wants.

Further and further into the waters he goes. He doesn’t know what comes next for any of it, and it’s terrifying.

--

“We could stay all night again,” Phil is protesting, even as Dan frogmarches him down the back steps. “I know we didn’t find anything, but maybe it only works when you’re trying to sleep over? I could -”

“You’ll do nothing,” says Dan. “We are both going home, and I’m seeing you onto the bus so you don’t sneak back without me.”

Phil wants to object, but Dan tightens their grip on his arms like they know exactly what he’s going to say. Besides, it would probably be a lie. Phil is stressed and frustrated and in over his head, and if he could just get one clip or photo of this thing, then maybe everything will be okay. Maybe he can keep doing this after all.

He gently detangles himself from Dan and sighs, hoisting his backpack up. “Fucking… fine.”

“Fucking fine,” Dan repeats, their lips twitching.

“Maybe the sigils worked too well,” says Phil. He keeps his tone level so that Dan won’t be able to tell that he’s joking right away, but Dan shoves at his shoulder like they’re well aware of what he’s doing. “You know, I bet -”

“You’re annoying when you can’t do what you want, huh?” Dan interrupts. Their hands are shoved in their jacket pockets, but Phil wishes they weren’t. He wishes he could brush his hand against theirs as they walk and convince himself that it’s all an accident. “Bet that’s the baby brother in you.”

“No comment.”

The walk to the bus stop is quieter than the last time Dan walked him to it, but it's not uncomfortable. Phil can’t believe how much he cares about this person already. They’re friends, he’s pretty sure, and it’s impossible to deny how much this crush is starting to get to him. Still. It’s new, Dan is new, and Phil has to consider the possibility that the novelty is all he’s feeling.

It’s not. But he has to consider it, because Phil has to consider every possibility before he makes his mind up about anything.

“Hey,” Phil says, careful not to sound like he’s pushing.

“Hi,” says Dan. Phil isn’t looking at them, but he can hear a grin in their voice.

“I was just wondering,” says Phil. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if it’s a sore spot or anything like that, but. Your flatmate said you were called Winnie. Obviously I know you go by Winnie online, but I didn’t know you did it, uh, outside of cyberspace.”

“Cyberspace,” Dan repeats like they can’t help themself. “Yeah, sometimes. I usually use it like a test.”

“A test?”

Dan hums. Phil wishes, again, that their hands weren’t trapped in the confines of their jacket. “For people I might get closer to. I ask my flatmates to call me something that’s clearly not masculine and see how they react and how often they slip up. Maybe it’s mean, I guess, since I don’t actually care one way or the other, but it’s a lot easier for me to open up to people who have already proven that they’re able to think of me outside of the Daniel box.”

“I can call you Winnie,” Phil offers. “If that’s what you want to be called. And I’m not a complete idiot, I’m sure I could remember to call you Dan when I’m bothering you at work.”

“Planning on bothering me at work some more?” Dan asks. They don’t wait for an answer. “No, I like Dan fine. They’re both fine. They just serve me different purposes, I guess, and I’m not bothered by either of them.”

“I don’t totally get it,” Phil admits. “But I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I know.”

Suddenly, Dan is tangling their long fingers with Phil's. It’s just for a second, long enough for the same sort of reassuring squeeze that Phil gave to them in the Wilkins place, but it makes Phil’s heart jump into his throat.

“You’re, like, overly considerate,” says Dan. They sound like they’re teasing - Phil hopes they’re teasing. He really, really doesn’t want to mess this up.

“I just think you should be able to, like, tell me if I do something wrong.”

Dan laughs. “You’re not getting it. That’s okay, you don’t have to get it. I will tell you if you do something wrong, I just have a really wide range of things I’m indifferent about before you get to the things that matter. Call me a boy or a girl or whatever, I don’t care. Try to imply that my favourite Pokémon is fucking Goldeen, on the other hand -”

They ramble all the way to the stop, and Phil finds himself feeling better despite the fruitless hours of wandering a dusty house.

“This is me,” Phil says as he sees headlights coming down the street towards them.

“Message me tomorrow,” Dan insists. For a moment, they’re both just standing there. Phil has no idea what he’s supposed to do in this situation. Surely a handshake would be weird, but would a hug be weirder? Should he just pat their shoulder, or is that absolutely the creepiest thing he could do? They had both waved, yesterday, so maybe that’s what he ought to do again. His eyes drift to Dan’s mouth. The product is still mostly there, but there are indents where their front teeth have been digging all night that show the natural colour of their lips.

That’s not an option, Phil reminds himself with a little shake. He’s about to keep overthinking it when Dan wraps their arms around him and says something that sounds like a goodnight. They smell good, and they feel good, and the only thing that gets Phil stepping back is the sound of a bus stopping next to them.

“Bye,” he says, quiet. Dan’s smile is almost enough to make him miss this bus and wait for the next one.

[rubisaurus98]

Storybook Data: Marena Lachesis Crux-Walker

Basic Info:

Full name: Marena Lachesis Crux-Walker

Age: 17

Birthday: June 7, 283 AIE

Sign: Gemini

Height:  167.66 cm (5′ 6″)

Weight: 131 lbs

Voice (JP): Yui Ishikawa (Role: Mikasa Ackerman--Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan)

Voice (EN): Kira Buckland (Role: Setsuna--Yashahime: Half-Demon Princess)

Affiliation Post: Member of the 30th Demon Slayer Squad “Order of Light”

Hobbies: Tinkering with technology and machines, making videos, live-streaming, being the de facto leader in Joshua’s absence.

Likes: Frozen desserts, fruit salad, taking walks at night, electronic music

Dislikes: Lack of communication, pickled fish, greasy food, not sleeping enough, losing control of powers

Family: Father: Karl, Mother: Renata, Younger brother: Alric, Paternal grandfather: Barion, Adoptive paternal grandfather: Grahdens, Adoptive maternal grandmother: Lachesis

Respected Person(s): My parents and their peers, the friends of my mom’s parents, Noel, Roy, Wallace, Hansu, Joshua (Sometimes)

Stats:

Ability as a leader: 9/10

Opinion on her powers: 6/10

Passion for technology: 10/10

Talkativeness: 8/10

Temperament: 6/10

Intro Paragraph:

Many other Summoners praise her for her dependability and strength. However, Marena has other opinions on such matters, such as her lack of experience relative to those that praise her. She had come to view her powers as a curse, but due to recent developments, she has gained a more positive outlook on them. After she and Joshua had addressed the issues of his negligence as a captain and his tendency to work alone, he has recommended her for a captain’s position, but Marena frantically denied it, saying that she was still too inexperienced for it. 

Personality/Characteristics:

Marena is often seen as a cool and approachable young woman, though sometimes noticeably tired and anxious due to fits of insomnia caused by visions in the form of nightmares. Due to her heritage, she was looked to by members of her squad for direction, as their captain would all too often give them none and set off on missions alone. She has argued this with him in the past, but it was only recently that he finally decided to take her words to heart. She puts some distance between herself and those she is not familiar with, which is sometimes taken as arrogance. Underneath this exterior lies an insatiable curiosity and a passion for technology, especially ones found in other worlds. She is more loose with people she’s more familiar with and is more willing to reveal this side of her to them. She is able to talk for hours on end about subjects of interest and will be happy to further explain parts her listeners may not understand. Marena also houses a volatile temper when sufficiently pushed. Her eyes will turn red and the outside temperature will drop several degrees as side-effects of the powers she inherited. Ever since their awakening a few years ago, Marena has struggled to control them, noted by her insomnia and anxiousness. There was an incident between herself and her childhood friend Sasha where Marena lost her control for a moment and injured the other girl’s left arm. While Sasha was ready to forgive the accident, Marena was not, and her control over her powers become the worst they’ve ever been until her experiences fighting the mysterious army that invaded Seltavia gave her a newfound mastery and outlook on them as she learned to forgive herself as well.

Birth/History:

She is the daughter of the Elder Summoners Karl and Renata, and has known about the origins of both parents for a long time. While her parents were often busy with their duties, they tried to be there as best they could for both her and her younger brother. As she was surrounded by the influences of many great Summoners, she resolves to one day follow in her footsteps and make a legacy all her own. It is said that Marena’s passion for technology was ignited at a young age by one of her parents’ childhood friends, as well as that friend’s boss, who is an old friend of her mother’s parents.

Meeting Jonas and Rin:

Marena met Jonas briefly when the mysterious army attacked Elgaia, then met Rin in Ixtas in the midst of it being attacked by that same army. Marena and Rin quickly set the grounds for a great friendship, until the mysterious army attacked again and they became separated. The three of them would reunite in Phillarm and from there, they would work together to retake Seltavia from the clutches of Elhaza, the mastermind behind the mysterious army attacks.

Quote:

“That’s so interesting! I’d like to know how it works!”

Trivia:

Marena’s side-job as a video-maker:

In the wake of her sudden fits of insomnia, Marena had decided to put this time towards making videos of herself, usually playing video games, and putting them online. Sometimes she will even live-stream herself very late at night when she has the off-time. Online, she goes by the username “InsoMari”, derived from the word “insomnia” and the nickname most used by people close to her, “Mari”. Her videos have gained some popularity, especially among members of Akras Summoners’ Hall. Recently, her insomnia has been improving as a result of having much better control and opinion of her powers, so this username may be subject to change in the future once she has the time to start uploading again. 

Comments from Others:

Noel: “I really should thank Roy for formally introducing her to me. I heard from her parents that she used to get in trouble for tinkering with household appliances. Then they got mad when I said they should’ve let her continue. I admire the girl’s passion for the field of technology. Her mind is almost able to keep up with mine. Almost. Of course, she still has a ways to go, but she’ll go far.”

Renata: “Karl and I have quite the daughter, and we couldn’t be prouder. For all that she’s brilliant, it still hurt us to see her suffering on the inside even after we did everything we could to help her, or at least make things easier for her. But, we’re both so happy to see her doing better now. I think something must’ve happened out in Seltavia.”

Joshua: “We used to argue a lot, but now I understand the points she was trying to make. She already makes a great Summoner. And once again, I apologize for everything.” 

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 66

Chapter Summary - Tom and Ben catch up after Christmas as Danielle and Emma try to repair their friendship.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe​ @wolfsmom1​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“Do I want to know?” Tom asked as he made room for Benedict to walk past him into his house.

“I love my wife, I cannot put into words how much I love her and my son and the baby she is carrying, I truly can’t, but I need two hours without a teething toddler and I need her to get some fucking sleep because she is like a grizzly bear with a headache from a sore back and Kit waking us, then finally, my parents take Kit and she is saying I kept her up last night snoring, I have no idea what she is thinking, but she was too tired to talk and told me to leave to let her have some rest before I collect him so I just ran,” Ben explained almost frantically. “I had no idea where to go.”

“Why in the hell did you think you could not say that in front of Danielle?”

“Because if she told Sophie, I would be castrated with a rusty knife, slowly.”

“Except she acted as an ear to Sophie yesterday, so she actually has some insight into how your wife is feeling.”

“Shit.” Ben growled, “What time did you say she was back?”

“She said three, but knowing her and Emma, they will get sidetracked on the way back and do something together,” Tom stated as he put some soup in front of Ben. “She baked bread as well, want some?”

“I assume you’re not staying as trim as usual.” Ben grinned as he looked at the fresh bread in front of him.

“I have had to add nearly a mile a day onto my runs, and that is with her feeding me a salad instead of the bread.”

“Lucky prick.” Ben bit into the bread. “Fuck me, I would need to be shoved through the door if I was eating this every day, this is incredible.”

“Yes.” Tom smiled proudly.

“So, how are things, I see she is still around, I thought she had work after Christmas?”

“There was a small incident on Christmas Eve, she fractured her wrist in a biking accident and is currently unable to work, nothing serious, she even seems to have stopped taking anything stronger than a Nurofen for it, but it means she is at a loose end, so she is studying for some enhancement at work, or she does, when she is here, her calendar is like a promo tour for us these days, she has people asking to meet her as often as she is here. Not that that is a complaint, I am delighted, it means she is settling in surely.”

“So she hanging around a while?” Ben pressed slightly.

“I asked her to move in with me, she said yes, so she’s living here now.” Tom smiled.

Ben stared at him for a moment. “Danielle lives here, with you?”

“Yes.”

“That was fast.” Tom gave him a look. “I am not saying it is a bad thing, Hiddleston, calm it, it is just that you were mister ‘as good as celibate’ for so long and now you are effectively setting up the whole devoted home man setting, I mean, Mac seems to own a corner of the living room.” Ben pointed to the area Tom had removed a chair from to allow Mac to have his bed in a sunny spot. “And Danielle is as sensible as an umbrella in autumn, so how did you manage to convince her?”

“I just asked and said no pressure. She is giving it a bit of a trial to see if she likes living in the city.”

“And?”

“It’s been less than a week Ben.”

“Some people don’t give it that.”

“She is gone to lunch with my sister, yesterday she was with your wife for lunch, which I have no idea why you don’t know all of this already and on the way back from said lunch with your wife, she bumped into another friend and made plans for next week.”

“A friend independent of you?”

“Yes, a woman named Nacelle she got to know when working.”

“As a safety officer or as a paramedic.”

“Safety Officer, Nacelle is a makeup artist.”

“Wait, is her name Nacelle Campbell?”

“I have no idea.”

“Her father is Jamaican, mother English, living around Camden somewhere?”

“She looks like she could be that and yes, she lives there.”

“You are fucking kidding me.” Ben smiled in disbelief, “Elle knows Nacelle Campbell?”

“Why are you saying this as though it is something of great note?” Tom asked worriedly.

“She is the most coveted makeup artist there is in these parts, you don’t want to know what her prices are, there are productions on the West End that cannot afford her, I heard Soph say something once, well her colleague did, about getting in Campbell before they both laughed at the idea, saying they would never be able to afford her.”

“She did Elle’s make up for last night, she made her look completely natural yet more radiant.” Tom smiled. “Her fiance helped too.”

“She’s getting married?”

“On the 22nd of June I believe, I have been told to check my availability, we are having them for dinner next week.”

“Who’s the guy?”

“Woman actually, Becky Matthews.” He waited a moment to see Benedict’s reaction. “Yes, The Rebecca Matthews.”

“Danielle has some friends in high places.”

“It appears so.”

“So, you actually know her a little?”

“I did not recall her yesterday when I saw her, considering she was in a tracksuit and whatnot, but I remembered her later. They are forcing Elle out to go get some clothes suitable for different events next week”

“So Elle is settling in if she is making all these friends, all is good then, right?” Ben smiled, Toms momentary delay in responding did not go unnoticed. “What happened?”

“She saw a fan interaction with me online this morning when I was out jogging,” Tom began.

“Right?”

“She got upset.”

“Anything untoward?” Ben knew to ask, with some ‘fans’ anything could happen.

“No.”

“So, why the upset?”

“She read comments on it and felt inadequate, but then apologised, saying it was an issue with her and that I did not deserve her reaction.”

“Fucking comments,” Ben cursed.

“None were too bad, I checked after, but a few made mention about the girl being a likeness to Taylor and that I would do well with her.”

“What was her name?”

“Whose?”

“The girl, obviously.”

“I cannot remember, honestly.”

“Well then, you were not interested.”

“It’s not something in Elle, last night I had some socialite nip my ear and leave lipstick on it and she knew there was nothing to worry about, but the comments got her slightly.”

“They get us all from time to time.”

“I just get worried, when people find out, there are going to be some who will do nothing but tear her to shreds.”

“Who are you talking to, I have a PR wife and two PR kids created solely to better me in Hollywood as a family man, the first of which is supposedly not even mine.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, apparently some director we met once that she was photographed with got her pregnant and I know this or don’t know this, pending the source, and I use that term lightly.”

“How do you not let that get to you, how does Sophie not?”

Ben shrugged, “These things have no basis in truth, I think more than once Sophie got upset about it, but getting upset won’t help, we have Kit and another little one coming and we don’t give a fuck what the naysayers say. Danielle is as tough as old boots, she’ll develop a skin against these things, the way you are doing it is best, though, fair dues for thinking if it.”

“It was Danielle’s idea.”

“No shock there, she is a pillar of sense.”

*

Danielle sat waiting in the restaurant for Emma, it was fifteen minutes after they were supposed to turn up and there was no sign of her, no text or call to say she was late. Terrified that she had decided not to show, Danielle’s breathing increased slightly, as she was about to text Tom to ask him what to do, she noticed the blonde hair of her friend enter the restaurant. “I am so sorry, there was something delaying the Underground, I was going to go topside and text, but since a train could come at any moment, I thought it best to wait and well, there’s no reception in the tunnels.”

“You’re fine.” Danielle smiled politely. “How are you?”

“Not going to lie, hungover.” Emma’s confession made her laugh. “Did you go to that party with Tom last night?”

“Yeah, didn’t get too tipsy, but I played it smart.”

“Fuck you, I am dying.” Emma groaned.

“What’s good hangover food here?”

“All day breakfast,” Emma stated. “So long as you are not on a diet now.”

“I ate lasagna yesterday, what do you think?”

“They will eat you alive for not being skinny enough,” Emma warned.

“If they think I am fat, well then, I’ll threaten to eat them.” Danielle shrugged in return causing Emma to laugh for a moment. “So what is new with you?”

The meal passed swiftly enough, both women catching the other one up on what they had missed in the time they had not really been speaking with one another.

“So, you like London?”

“It’s been four days.” Danielle laughed.

“You were here before Christmas too apparently.”

“Working my ass off, I could have been in outer Uzbekistan and not have noticed anything.” Emma nodded in agreement. “So now I have been here with actual time to look around and of the four days, I have had lunch out for two, I will apparently never get my study done.”

“How is your hand.” Emma seemed almost awkward asking about it.

“It’s fine, the brace is a pain, though, I keep forgetting to take it off going for a shower.” she looked down at it. “I mean, it could have been worse.”

“I’m sorry,” Danielle silenced. “I was such a bitch, I made you feel like you couldn’t come to us.”

“I was being a tad dramatic too, I should have just called Tom regardless, that was my own foolishness, but as I said before Em, it’s done.” She smiled.

“I got you something.”

“Emma.” Danielle scolded.

“I love the jacket you got me.” She smiled meekly, touching the jacket that was on the back of her chair before grabbing her bag. “I was being petty and bratty, I didn’t even get you a present, I feel really crappy for that.”

“How were things after we left?”

“Are you kidding, I could have dealt with being yelled at, mum just looked at me and said how disappointed she was that I would do that to two of the people that love me the most in the world, I felt as though I was three inches tall, not because of her saying that, although it hurt, because it is true, Tom is my brother, and he does so much for me, and you, you have always been there for me, no judgement, more so than girls I went to school with, you actually give a fuck.”

“Damn right.” Danielle smiled with a wink.

Extending her hand, Emma held out her gift. “It’s nothing mad, I promise.”

Danielle took the present. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but when you see it.”

Emma seemed almost excited for her to see it, so opening it swiftly, Danielle took a moment to study it before smiling. “Thank you, it’s perfect.” She took it out of the small long jewellery box and studied the one lone trinket on it; a small little Celtic knot. “Em.”

“You know what it is?”

“A friendship knot.” She smiled knowingly.

“You know a lot about Celtic stuff.”

“I always loved it, let me guess, Jack?”

“Yeah, he told me about it. There are links for other ones to be added.” She explained.

“Thank you.” She pulled Emma in and hugged her. “It’s perfect.” When she pulled back again, Danielle went to put it on, wincing slightly as her wrist seemed to fight her actions to open the clasp. For a second, Emma watched her before her guilt became too much and she extended her hand and took the bracelet, silently placing it around her wrist before Danielle looked at it. “Thank you.”

“I really am sorry Elle.”

“It’s done, what time are you heading to Belfast?”

*

Tom left the room while Ben rang his mother regarding him collecting Kit and headed to the kitchen with the cups he and Ben had used for their tea, checking his watch as he went, he smiled, seeing it was almost four and since he had not received a text from Danielle, he concluded she was having a good time with Emma. Putting the cups in the sink, he took out his phone to text her to ask how she was getting on, a moment after he pressed send, a phone beeped next to him, it was then he saw her phone charging in the socket next to the kettle. It had not been there when he went to make the tea and he saw her put it in her pocket as she left. Looking around, he realised that her bag and coat were also in the kitchen, going to the hallway, he called up the stairs before walking back towards the kitchen just as Ben came out of the living room.

“Everything alright?”

“I think Danielle is back.”

“And?”

“She only left at twelve, she and Emma always take forever to have lunch.”

“Well, they are still patching things up, maybe they didn’t want to overdo it,” Ben suggested. “She’s outside if you want to ask her.”

Tom looked to the kitchen window, sure enough, Danielle was in the garden wearing the clothes Tom noticed she seemed to do the vast majority of the housework in, as she stood on a stepladder. “What is she doing?” He asked fearfully, worried that with her injured arm, she could end up even more injured.

“She appears to be putting up a little birdhouse,” Ben noted.

Tom walked outside, opening the door slowly and letting Mac give Danielle notice to his presence. “Darling?”

“Oh hey, is Ben gone home?” She asked as she looked around, but the other actor came into her view, answering her question. “Hey, Ben.”

“Elle.” He nodded. “Nice job you’re doing here.”

“Elle, what are you doing?” Tom half demanded. Danielle’s smile fell immediately. “How long have you been home?”

“Since three, like I said I would be,” she stated, her voice small.

Benedict looked at Tom who seemed somewhat angered. “Tom?”

“Why are you doing that, you should have asked me, what if you fell, you shouldn’t be using your hand like that, you are supposed to be resting it? Why didn’t you tell us you were back?”

“The living room door was closed over, I heard your voices but I didn’t want to interrupt, you could have been talking about anything, work, personal things, Avenger stuff.” She rambled.

Tom finally seemed to realise she was somewhat meek as a result of his manner, “Elle,” he walked over to her, helping her off the stepladder. “I’m sorry, I just was worried.”

“I put up the birdhouses in my house too.” She stated. “I have a tiny fracture, seriously, I have a copy of the x-ray, it’s called a hairline fracture, because it is the width of a single hair, it is tiny, I am not going to lose my balance, fall to the floor and shatter.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, I…How many bird things have you put up?” He asked, looking around.

“There are three nesting boxes and a few feeders.”

“They’ve different foods in them.”

“Because different birds like different food.” she laughed before realising something. “You didn’t know that?” Tom’s cheeks reddened slightly. “You sweet summer child.” She shook her head as she spoke, causing Benedict to chuckle. “I suppose you are going to tell me you did?”

“I said nothing.”

“That’s a no then.” She shook her head smiling before turning back to Tom who was studying the bird boxes. “Are they okay? You said I could…”

Tom gave her a warm smile that made her anxiety at his early sharp tone dissipate. “Yes, they are lovely, I just overreacted to seeing you on the ladder, I was worried, yes, they are nice, you did a great job. How was lunch?”

“Good,” She smiled happily.

“You’re never back this early.”

“Emma and Jack are off to Ireland to his family for a few days, she said this over Christmas, their flight leaves this afternoon, but we wanted to catch up for a bit before she left.” She explained.

“So when you said three…”

“We finished up at two, but I wanted to get these so I was delayed coming back.” She stated as she tidied up the few last bits from her work. “Now, in a few days, this place should have birds.”

“Why a few days?”

“Because they don’t know it’s here yet, they’re not telepathic.” She laughed at the men’s confused faces, “I hope your parents didn’t pay too much for those educations of yours, you haven’t got a clue between ye.” She commented walking back into the house. “By the way, Ben,” He looked at her. “You really need to get Sophie a mammy spa day, she is stressed as fuck, she needs a day to get to relax.”

For a moment, Ben just stared at the spot Danielle had been standing in before shaking his head, “How the fuck did I not think of that?” Taking out his phone, he began googling.

Danielle smiled as she put on the kettle for her tea before washing her hands. “What’s this?” Tom extended his hand to the bracelet now dangling from her left wrist. “Did Emma…?”

“Yeah, it’s a friendship knot.” She explained, holding it up for him, a hopeful smile on her face.

“That’s wonderful, so it went well?”

“Yeah,” Danielle curled in against his chest.

“Are you alright?”

“Tired.”

“I was thinking, how about a takeaway tonight?”

“That nice Indian place?” Tom made a noise of confirmation. “You are speaking my language.”

[thegirlbehindtheletters-blog]

Summer, Moon, and All the Positive Sides of Life

A loud screeching sound resonated in the area as the siren produces an earsplitting, high-pitched tone as a warning to all it passes by. Ah! What a wonderful way to welcome a newborn, a new streak of hope and light. And on that very special day, the 14th day of July in the year of 2002; the town of Pinamalayan, in the rich province of Oriental Mindoro, the world had heard her first cry. She was given the name combination of the Blessed Virgin Mary; her Mother, St. Anne, and St. Patricia. Her parents were Mr. Arnold G. Galicia and Mrs. Tita B. Galicia who gave all their devoted love to their firstborn.

Time starts a rewind, memories of the good old days are slowly flashing in my mind like flickering camerasand then there I was… in front of a huge crowd watching my every little move. It was my graduation for passing kindergarten and moving up to the next level. I recall I was hiding something behind my legs that a naked eye could barely see… it was a birthmark in a heart shape. It was funny considering it’s too small to be seen yet I was frantically hiding it, afraid someone might catch a glimpse of it even when I’m dancing. Then the time warps, carrying me to another place in time and I can see a small little girl with her younger siblings being forced to sleep every time the clock ticks at noontime each weekend. Sleep and I doesn’t really share the same sympathy for we dislike each other. While an old love song was playing on the background, I was tossing and turning myself, finding the comfortable position to lull me to sleep. But most of the time, I pretend to sleep whenever our father checks on us and wait for half an hour to go down and play. It was kind of a clever move for me to make and a stupid one at that.

As a child, I really did not like sleeping that much because for me? Playing outside was always the best part of my childhood. It was really a euphoric and a nostalgic moment to go back in time and relive the memory of yourself, being innocent and naïve once. I love playing and it could only happen when I’m at school. And at last, Monday has arrived! I could finally play with my classmates. I was a second grader and it was break time when we all decided to go outside our classroom and play. And then it happened. After playing outside, when the bell rang as signal for the resumption of classes, my classmates and I scurried back to our classroom and as the saying goes, “Expect the unexpected,” one of my classmates accidentally, unintentionally, and unknowingly tripped me off. The only thing I can remember after that is the big round circle of grayish blush on my right cheek. And it’s called, “bruise.” It was an awful memory but as I go back to that time, I just laugh it off. When summer got through and I was all happy and still innocent about the world, my cousins and I had swimming lessons one day. Ate Kim was the one who taught me how to swim, and guess what? I just unfolded a secret about me! I’m a fast learner and that I am brilliantly awesome! Kidding aside, ever since I have learned how to swim, my cousins and I pretended to be mermaids swimming gracefully in circles. And I have that memory etched in my heart for forever.

But as the moment goes on, a tragedy was casted upon us. A strong typhoon struck our land that resulted to a waist-length flood. I was just a kid! I only know how to play and swim but I wasn’t really that informed about what to do during calamities. I saw our house being swooned with water, furniture floating everywhere, my parents holding themselves off from hysteria… but even as a child, I know it wasn’t actually good and all yet I still am hopeful and positive that it’s not going to be the end for us. And it really did work. Now, time has taken me to another time in the past. I’m in my first year in high school, survived and alive… and a blessing arrived too early for me. I was recruited to be a member of the Youth for Christ community and also a member of the Ministry of Sacred Symphony. My freshmen days were pretty good and remarkable. I’d developed strong bond of friendships, won a contest in our Linggo ng Wika celebration with my classmates and became a first all-time servant of God.

Another year and it’s my second year in high school. Summer cradled me in its arms but the next three months were monsters. They preoccupied my well-being, or maybe I wasn’t really that well. I thought I was sick for having my menstrual cycle going on for about months without a halt. This thing caused the outbreak of mixed emotions surging from within my body. I wasn’t happy anymore. Hope didn’t shine through me. I can’t see the light. But I still prayed and fought and tried to make it. I tried every means to be positive at all stake. It was hard, not being able to smile without pretense and play like the other kids at school. I don’t know what had happened to me. Until it was time to take medication. I was grateful that even though I was at the verge of giving up and losing all my hopes, life is still good and bright. I never thought life could take away my innocence that fast…

I was staring at the moon as it shines brightly together with the stars. The evening serenity has come in all its glory yet I was suddenly being melancholic about the heavenly body and the constellations above. This summer, I’ve met someone online and he was a good friend. The only actual mistake I had made is that I liked him even without seeing his face upfront or hearing his voice talk. Our online friendship was sailing smoothly back then, until he decided to call it off. After the night of the Christmas Eve, it was an end game for me. I realized that there are some things that you just can’t save even if you try out your best. So, I rivet every bit of me on the positive sides of life. I continued being positive and bringing out the best smiles and encouragements that I could muster. The one thing added to my wisdom book about life is that if you serve as a blessing to everyone, blessings arrive to you in a way that you would not even expect.

It was in my ninth grade when things turned out beautifully with me, of the sort. I was elected as the class president, only then I didn’t have many friends like the past two years. I struggled and was afraid to be left alone. I thought it would be a disaster for me but I should have just remained positive because on the month of October 2016, I won first place in the Feature Writing Contest. It was a major achievement since I never really thought I’d stand a chance in that field. And that’s when my booming love for writing started to sprout. It never faded on the background even when my last year in junior high emerged. But the thing was that, before last year ended, I had unintentionally hurt someone real bad. I felt like a jerk for hurting someone like that. This is it, my last year in junior high. And guess what? I don’t know what to feel knowing my ultimate crush had transferred in my school and he was even in the same class.

 We became friends but the person I’ve hurt in the past, I want to be friends with him, too. But I just don’t know how things would work out for us so I opted for the easiest way out: ignoring him as much as he is ignoring me. Then I represented our class in our Linggo ng Wika celebration, I didn’t even expected I’d win against a theatre actress considering I was just an amateur in acting and such. But nevertheless, it was a great accomplishment. I even represented our school in another Feature Writing Contest and won second place. Still, I haven’t expected any of that matter but is grateful nonetheless. Many things happened after that until our moving up day. It made me rot in sadness thinking about all our happy memories with each other. Together with my friends, my classmates, and our adviser, we all shared good memories together that I didn’t want to forget. We bid our goodbyes and cried side by side because after this? Some of them would be studying in the city or other provinces. Although I know we would all be seeing each other again some time in the future, I can’t help but mum about our separation. They were the people I grew up with, shared fantasies with, shared dreams and hopes with, the pressures and all the things about school. And then I thought that staying where you are when almost everyone leaves is easier than being the one to leave…

Summer finally came. Time returned to its usual pace. But the most important thing that has happened this summer is that I became friends with him, the one I had hurt in the past. It was a good feeling. I finally feel free from the burden and the pain that I was carrying. I finally had let go of the negativity and embraced positivity all the more. This school year is my first year as a senior and it’s made me anxious. But now that I got the hang of it, I finally let loose and eased up. Senior high made me realized that what I once had, some of it could never return and those whom I had lost, God eliminated them for He knows that what and who I truly need is people who deserves the things that I give them and not those who would only take me for granted.

The summer taught me a lot. The moon had kept all the secrets I try to hide and the tears I wipe every night. And all the positive sides of life helped me in coping up with the uncertainties and misfortunes that life throws and gives me strength to get back up after chaos and tragedies in this no fictitious world that we all live in…

[catboysuigetsu]

Robogirl, Monkey Boy and Their Fantastic Kids

In which Trunks and Marron care for Pan, Bulla and Uub on a movie night that ends with introspection (because I wrote it, it can’t be all fluffy, curse my writing)

a late entry for @dbnextgenweek 

The only ship is Truten and Goten isn’t even here  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And rated T I guess? mostly G except one line at the end and some alcohol drinking. Mostly no one gets hurt, it’s just domestic shenanigans. Enjoy, ya’ll.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Trunks, can I have a margarita?” Bulla asked, leaning way over on the counter, eyes wide. What he was making himself was a cocktail, but to Bulla it was all the same. She was five years old.

“What’s the magic word?” Marron nearly choked.

“Please?” she whined, flopping on the bar.

“Alright, go sit down.” She hopped off the stool and Trunks met Marron’s eyes. The girl was glaring daggers at him.

“Are you going to give your five year old sister alcohol?” she demanded.

He smirked, so much like his father. “Of course not. Check it out.” He motioned for her to look under the bar and opened a wine chiller. Lined up was every brightly colored fruity soda she could name off the top of her head. “Mix it together and it looks just like the real thing, and the smell’s so strong they won’t be able to tell that it’s different than mine. It was Goten’s idea. He’s so smart,” he added wistfully, which made Marron laugh because no, he’s really not. Trunks’s boyfriend was away visiting colleges this weekend, even though he would likely go to online college and work at Capsule Corp like Trunks did. Or at least he hoped so.

“Well, that sure is deception.”

“It’s great! Gotta stay one step ahead of these kids.”

“Bad attitude, man.” She wouldn’t admit that she had felt the same way since she was nine, or even before then. She was so below the Saiyan children’s power that she had to accept that getting close to their level would be no easy task. She had strategy, though, taught by her dad and figured out by trial and error. Catching her boys off guard was her specialty.

“Do you want one?” Trunks asked, cracking open four bottles of soda and pouring the first in a glass of ice.

“The real kind or the sugar monstrosity?” She was 16, not legally allowed to drink alcohol yet, not like Trunks knew that, or cared. “Neither. I think I’m good.”

“Alright. Could you go ask Pan and Uub what they want?”

“Whatever.” She went.

The home theater was cut off from the bar by only glass. It was dark, only illuminated by the blue screen of the TV, but all three children were good at seeing in low light. Bulla crouched in the corner, adjusting the movie settings on the laptop there, and Pan leaned over her shoulder observantly. Uub sat on the edge of the couch with his arms around his knees, the blue of the frozen screen reflecting in his large brown eyes.

“Who wants what, kids?”

“Can I have a margarita too?” Pan asked. Marron sighed.

“Do you have milk?” Uub asked quietly.

“Probably upstairs. I’ll get you a glass.” She didn’t move for a moment, then sat down next to the boy. He looked skittish and kept pushing his chin into his knees. “You doing okay?”

“It’s not usually this dark, I-I’m not used to not seeing the sky.” The theater room had no windows and gave the best of them claustrophobia. The sterile air and the enclosed space were understandably frightening the little boy who was never as far from the outside as he was in the Briefs’ compound.

“You want to go for a walk?”

“Yes.” After a beat he unfolded himself and walked with the teen to the door.

“Pan wants a cocktail too,” Marron informed Trunks as they walked by, “and we’re going upstairs to get milk.” He waved a hand to acknowledge them, but didn’t even turn his head. He was on the phone and judging by the spacey, blissed out look on his face she could guess with whom.

The whole compound was dark, save the occasional emergency light, and the air whirred with the sounds of machinery, but at least topside light from the streetlamps and stars streamed in the windows. Uub looked at the sky in wonder, and smiled like it was his best friend. They stopped a moment to stare through the window. Marron wondered if a part of the child remembered that he came from there, somewhere farther out in the cosmos than she could imagine from her little shoebox house on Earth. He played with the lock on the window and before Marron could stop him he was leaning into the warm breeze, giggling at the spring peepers that filled the air with noise.

“Go fly around, I’ll let you back in,” and he was out, hitting the ground and bolting after the peeping frogs. Marron hardly saw someone so happy.

She continued to the kitchen and poured milk for Uub and herself. She spend a minute tapping on the counter, checking her email, enjoying the quiet, before her companion touched down on the patio and knocked on the glass with his elbow. His hands were clamped tightly together and something squeaked inside. Uub smiled like a mad man.

“You shouldn’t bring the frog inside,” Marron warned, but that’s all it was, a warning. She didn’t say he couldn’t.

“I want to show Pan, then I’ll let it back out.”

“Alright.” and after a moment she added with a  smirk, “We’re gonna freak Trunks out though, okay?”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t have to.

They headed back downstairs, Uub looking giddily down at the frog in the empty cereal box they placed it in. Trunks was wrapping his call with Goten up when they returned and Marron transferred the frog into her hand.

“How is Goten doing?” she asked, hands clasped behind her back.

“Great. He’s coming home earlier than he thought he was.” Trunks smelled of alcohol but he was drunk on his own love. It might have been cute.

“How much did you drink? You haven’t touched your cocktail,” she commented, moving closer.

“I had some vodka, just from the bottle. The drink’s for the movie.”

“Ah-huh.” She moved so they were almost touching and wrapped her arms around the tall teen. He hugged back, of course. And her hand sneaked up to his shoulder and placed the frog there. He didn’t notice— until it croaked. The half Saiyan jumped backwards into the wine rack. Marron cackled.

Uub stepped in frantically to rescue the peeper and the girls raced in as Trunks yelled groggily, “How dare you weaponize hugs! Friendship ended robogirl!”

“Talk’s cheap monkey boy!”

“Hey!” Bulla shouted, tiny hands on tiny hips. “Don’t be racist.” Both teens doubled over laughing. Pan agreed loudly over her shoulder.

Marron reached to help Trunks stand up, and he took her hand with one of his and pointed in her face with the other. “Don’t put! Slimy creatures on me please, young lady.”

“Alright, old man, but I promise nothing about slimy plants.”

Trunks groaned.

Pan jumped on Marron, flying up to be face to face with her. “Can we go watch Frozen now?”

“We’re watching Frozen? Oy, I had no idea.” This was the third time they were watching Frozen for movie night, she could have guessed. She stepped toward the theater room and the kids headed that way. “Don’t forget your movie drink, Trunks.” She took her milk with her. Trunks followed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Marron was the outcast at her school from 1st grade (she skipped preschool and Kindergarten) to about age 9, and truly she never stopped being one. She had cried for her mom the first couple months of school, and she solved her problems with ki blasts from her fingers, put together with her appearance and need to question everything and not having a filter between curiosity and prying and talking back, did not make her popular.

Chiaotzu had something to say about that, after all he had watched her (along with Tien and/or Yamcha) when she was little the few times 18 had somewhere to be or she and Krillin had a night or a weekend out. She called him her best friend, other than her mom, and didn’t see any problem with it until she had to go to school and he didn’t, seeing as he was a 30 year old. Chiaotzu was the first one to recognize that she really needed some friends her own age.

The only people in the world who could understand Marron, daughter of an android and the most powerful human on Earth, who could bend the energy in and around her to her will, were deemed to be Goten and Trunks. They didn’t like that all that much. Goten wanted to help her but didn’t want his friendship with Trunks to change, and Trunks flat out refused, “Goten is my friend and I don’t wanna share.”

They started meeting only once a week, an Saturday afternoons, after which Bulma would let them stay up as long as they liked playing video games (not like they didn’t do that already, but now it was permitted so they wouldn’t have to try and hide it.) They played hide-and-seek in the sprawling gardens until they introduced her to video games, where she took a vicious liking to whooping their virtual backsides. Hangouts at the Capsule Compound became trips to the mall and the zoo and aquarium, camping trips and occasional sleepovers. They liked each other and reveled in their secret powers, exchanging glances and smiles at school. They confided in each other. She was their friend, and they were her boys.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Trunks sat with his arm spread out on top of the couch like always, and Marron sat on the cushion in front of it and leaned her head back. Her shaved hair irritated his skin and he readjusted himself so the short girl leaned on his shoulder instead. When she first shaved her hair he accused her of copying him. She said neither flattery nor mockery was involved in her decision. Her hair was just too long for her own good, she didn’t like it on the back of her neck or behind her ears. It made her a better fighter too, which was always a plus. Grabbing Goten’s hair over and over was what made him finally cut his. Trunks kept his short for convenience probably, since he has no patience to deal with tangles.

“I’m going to start the movie!” Bulla declared, pressing the play button then running and catapulting herself into her brother’s lap.

“OOF! Ow, Bulla!” She giggled. “What is this, mess with Trunks night?”

“Here I come,” Pan warned and jumped onto Marron’s lap. The teen tackled the littler girl to the couch into a laughing heap.

Uub had gone somewhere, but returned not too far into the movie. “The frog’s back outside.”

Pan pouted. “Can you catch another one later?”

“I’ll teach you how to catch one.” He sat down and Pan clambered off Marron’s lap and onto his. He hardly let anybody touch him, let alone sit in his lap. Pan was a special case. She was his training buddy, and fellow frog lover.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

By the time everyone lived happily ever after it was past 11 o’clock but none of the kids wanted to go to sleep. Trunks and Marron were ready but the young ones still had energy. Trunks wasn’t about to deal with that.

He tucked Bulla and Pan into their little shared bed against their protests and made them promise that if they played games they had to be talking games, not get up and run around ones. Uub slept in a cot in the same room and he was the one of the three closest to falling asleep. He was curled up with his eyes closed when the teens left.

Marron climbed into Trunks’s bed as he exhaustedly set up the air mattress.

“Goten will be back this time tomorrow. You think you two’ll be screwing in this room then?” Marron asked lazily.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea why you would want to know that given where you are currently laying,” he responded, smirking and flopping on his mattress.

“You’re right. I don’t wanna know.”

The Saiyan boy pulled his quilt up to his chin. “Lights off,” he commanded, and they clicked off.

“You think either of you’ll ever have kids?” she asked, quieter this time. “You’re a good… you’re such a good big brother to all three of them.”

She almost thought Trunks hadn’t heard her, and listened for his snores. He finally said, “We haven’t talked about it, I mean I’m only 19 and he’s 18. I can’t say I want kids but I do... like caring for the kids we have now.” Pause. “I don’t know, you don’t think putting me in permanent charge of a kid is a good idea, right? I’m not that responsible.” She knew. He had given his five year old sister what she thought was a margarita.

“I dunno. Put you and Goten together and you make a great team. I mean, what else are you gonna do?”

“How about run Capsule Corp? I’ve got my job set for me, I don’t know about him.”

“Bulma runs this place and still raised two kids. You could do it.”

“A lot of faith, Marron, a lot of faith.” It was quiet again.

“You could go pro at fighting, I think that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Fruit and vodka. Mechanical whirring, light through the windows from streetlamps and stars. Spring peepers. “Goodnight, Mar.”

“Goodnight.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Please tell me other people know what peepers are? Those frogs where you can open your window in the springtime and hear them screaming at each other. We have them in the suburbs but I’m pretending they have them in the city too.

Also I have not watched any of GT, although I guess this takes place some time in between the end of Z and the start of GT in some au where Uub stays in Satan City to train along with Bulla and Pan instead of going back to his island. All characterizations are kind of pulled out of my head along with things I’ve gotten from fandom osmosis.

Hope you liked!

edit: HAHAH i forgot to mention that i have zero concept of anybody’s ages in canon so if something’s really wrong, it’s probably just my ignorance. Whoops.

[mental-health-advice]

Submission about girlfriend leaving

I hope this will not be as long as I thought it would be.

Its been 1 year and 5 months since my girlfriend left me. My life has been upside down since then.

Everyday I dream about her and everyday I think about her, this even made it impossible for me to begin a new relationship. I have only eaten one meal a day and my doctor got mad at me for not taking vare of myself. I tried to commit suicide 4 times this years which only made things worse. Two of them I was already in the hospital, since im in the middle of a treatment against lung cancer.

I had a serious argument with my family last couole months and had to leave home. Ive been living in a small apartment since then, which has not been healthy for me with no one around.

My will to live has been droping more and more each day and now that im all alone in this apartment, ive been thinking there would be no one to bother during my department. Im sorry but I had to get this thougthts aroubd somewhere.

I dont really know what else to do. I wish I could give more details but im frantic and my english is horrible.

Hi friend,

Thank you so much for feeling able to reach out to us here at MHA! I’m sorry that your relationship ended and that you have been struggling with some negative emotions since then. I hope I’ll be able to give you some ideas about some things to try and help yourself feel a little more positive. 

I do just need to say though, that if you find yourself considering suicide and you are reaching a crisis point, please reach out for some help. You can call your local emergency services for immediate help. You can also try helplines and web counsellor who will be able to support you through that point of crisis and hopefully encourage you to keep yourself safe.

Suicidal thoughts are really serious and very hard to cope with on your own. Have you had any professional help for how you are feeling? Even if you are not suicidal, but still experiencing this negativity I really recommend going and talking to a professional like a GP or counsellor. They will be able to help you explore and understand your feelings. You may be offered medication, inpatient treatment, talking therapies, and many other options; it is about working with the professional and finding which treatment will work best for you in your current state. Talking therapy may be a really good place for you to start as a therapist will be able to help you understand your suicidal and negative thoughts and what is triggering them; further to this, they will hopefully be able to give you some great coping techniques  Here is our page about getting help which might be useful in answering some concerns you have about talking to a professional!

Getting over someone and a past relationship is a tough process and one that is completely different for everyone, so I can’t tell you a hard and fast rule for how to deal with it. Something I do suggest though is cutting all ways you have of contacting her, so deleting her number, blocking her on social media, etc. This is to prevent you from thinking about reaching out again and hurting yourself that way. You could also maybe try and think about the reasons why your relationship wasn’t good for you, or  even try writing her a letter in which you talk about all of the things you have wanted to say to her, the good and the bad - then instead of actually sending it, destroy it, burn it, rip it up, throw it away, whatever - that way you can get some kind of closure by saying all the things, but when getting rid of it, you can mourn the loss of the relationship and that person in your life. Hopefully this will make the loss a little easier for you!

I know it can sound a little silly but many of us forget to give ourselves credit for the little things we do each day, and it can be really beneficial to take the time to acknowledge them when we are trying to improve happiness. So perhaps, you could just start with one or two little things to achieve each day, such as washing your dishes and going for a 10 minute stroll somewhere. Another little thing you can try is getting your friends and family to help you to write a list of all the reasons that they love you and that you are a good person; keep the list, make it pretty, and look at it everyday to remind yourself that you have so much worth and goodness in you! It is also important to keep doing all of the things that you know used to, or still do, bring you enjoyment, and try and do them more if you can! Painting? Music? Writing? To start with we just need to find that one thing that makes you want to keep going and get up every morning.

I am linking this page by Psychcentral as it has some really good tips and advice on overcoming loneliness. Even something really simple like reaching out to people you know first by commenting on a Facebook status, or sending them a short message saying hi and asking what they’re up to - initiating conversation can really help you to feel more involved in a group or friendship. I also think it’s really important that you take some time alone to look after yourself and relax - so having a bubble bath, reading your favourite book, painting your nails, whatever activities you enjoy doing that make you feel more at peace and comforted. Being alone doesn’t always have to be a bad thing, and I honestly think it’s so important to try and keep reminding yourself of that. 

Is meeting new people and making friends something that you want to do? Something I would suggest is to look online, like on Tumblr, for a community which share a passion with you - for example, there are a lot of band and anime communities on Tumblr I know about. But I’m sure you would be able to find at least one person whom with you share a common interest, no matter how niche it is, and then you can chat with them about that? Also, have you considered joining any local groups or volunteer programmes near you? This would mean you got out of the house and socialised with others in your local area which can be a great way to start making new friends which I think will be particularly important for you when your current friends leave for college.

I also want to say that we are always here for you, and happy to talk to you about anything that will support you in feeling even a little better; I hope knowing that makes you feel slightly less alone. I hope this has reassured you a little, lovely, and that going forward you are able to find happiness. Please feel free to get in touch with us again if there is anything else that we can help you with!

Please take care,

Rhiann xo