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#his alarm clock dialogue.
1tsjusty0u · 2 months
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actually while im at it. flowey undertale. im getting his stupid fanclub pin because unfortunately i am a fan
#hes literally just an 8 year old trying to be. not cool but Smart and Dark#like on one hand he knows more about the game due to resetting and hes also soulless which on one hand sort of mirrors players and rheir bo#redom but also it could range from depression to apathy though thats my hc#so he thinks hes smarter than everyone else#and also that 8 year old has. so much baggage#his alarm clock dialogue.#mistaking the player for chara#you know the drill#plus his personality#while im glad undertale had the ending it did#i feel like asriel ppprobably couldve been handled better </3#but thats in the past!!! yeag#ALSO alsoalso flowey parallels to ralsei i think its super neat#i do wonder if more parallels will show up. like flowey getting bored of a game he plays a million times vs ralsei which he doesnt seem to#be bored? he does know the game far better than kris susie or even the player do#so i wonder if thatll come up? floweys boredom vs ralseis unboredom. keeping them in a world thatll forever loop if the player doesnt let g#o#seeing the same thinf a bunch of times and getting sick of it vs hearing the same thing over and over and loving it#please not theres not any basis for this ralsei doesnt seem to really… fit into that#its more of escapism and him taking it to the farthest he can (avoiding negative thoughts even when they need to be confronted. ignoring th#e elephant in the room) which is how he mightve had to cope? or maybe its just because of the whole game aspects#also ralsei doesnt see other darkners as as important as the lightners/kris/mmmaybe us?????????? we dont know if he knows#like how flowey puts most other monsters beneath him except for chara/by proxy frisk and us#ralsei doesnt see himself as above the darkners but he sees susie and kris above them. i think its the same for flowey#though. flowey is debatable i think he might put himself above others considering genocide#yeah!!!!!!! i love gaymes
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somegrumpynerd · 9 months
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Soriel week day 2 - Home
I just love that in every ending where they're both left alive, these two find home within each other
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abyssembraced · 30 days
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Papyrus, WHY are you deboning spaghetti?
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"WHAT!!! YOU DON'T DEBONE YOUR SPAGHETTI!??"
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"DO YOU AT LEAST DE-SPEAR IT?"
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stunfiskz · 9 months
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mettaton means the world to me as a gay trans man who used to have an incredibly close relationship with his cousins but have lost contact with them 😔
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sukifoof · 9 months
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i mentioned this briefly on twitter but i really really love that flowey stays as flowey and that chara doesn't come back. as someone with ptsd it's really touching to me that the best ending is the ending where flowey has to accept that chara is gone and that he is who he is now... i feel like a lot of times loss and grief isn't handled as well as it is in undertale but flowey's case really captures it sooo well. especially with the few times we're shown that he really is healing like in the post pacifist dialogue where he begs us to let frisk live their life and that he doesn't think he could do it all again when his previous goal was to Literally Reset Everything. he goes from wanting to rewind time to be who he used to be and to relive his memories with chara but he finally learns how to let go and accept what has happened. and how in the alarm clock dialogue he seems to be spending time with papyrus given his red ribbon so he's also learning to have friends again!! for a guy who for so long has resented his decisions and blames himself for his and everyone else's grief, the fact that he is able to stay flowey, the person he is after he went through so much trauma, and heal as flowey Gets me. there's just something really touching about the fact that his trauma is still something he has to deal with but he's also able to heal in his own little ways
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damiel-of-real · 3 months
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fucking adore the undertale winter alarm clock dialogue for obvious reasons (its really good) but also because it establishes that flowey and papyrus are STILL friends. like with the rest of the cast he just can't make friends with them. he feels like he fundamentally cannot connect with these people anymore and he honestly might be right. but you know he's STILL gotta hang out with his best friend papyrus. he lets him dress him in a dumb little ribbon too
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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Hi, I love your work so so much, but I've been too afraid to like to say it... you are such a phenomenal writer! ❤️❤️
I had a thought/request for cm? I think it'd be so cute/soft if like... the reader took meds or something, and while they are on a very important case it comes time to take their meds but they're very invested in working stuff out or whatever... and then a few of the team members phones go off and on of them is like, welp it's time to take your meds, and you're just like 🫠 you have an alarm to make sure I take it on time. I need some team fluff!
There's no room for recreation in your schedule. You personally think that being flown to the sunny beaches of florida and being confined to a stuffy police precinct is evil, but so are serial killers, you suppose.
Your head is starting to ache, and by the deep sigh that JJ lets out, hers is, too. The last thing on your mind are the little pills in your go bag, but your eyes are starting to droop from where they're scanning over a plotted map. Lines are starting to blur together, and you're thankful for the intrusion of an alarm.
Wait, two alarms.
Three, you note, frowning as you glance at the clock: 8:00.
Hotch's phone is one that buzzes as its pressed to his cheek, and he interrupts his running dialogue to scan the room for you.
"-understood. We'll send a team out, they should be there in 20. Y/L/N," He calls, and you stiffen slightly, ready for orders, "Take your medicine."
Those weren't the orders you'd been expecting. Your brow dips, creased in a frown as Hotch goes back to his conversation.
You glance questioningly at Reid, but all the doctor does is hold up his own phone.
"Your medicine," He prompts, showing the alarm ringing on his screen, "You're supposed to take it at 8:00."
"Here," JJ sticks a hand over your shoulder, pill bottle in hand, "Do you have water?"
Aaron's still engaged in conversation over the phone, but apparently parenting has given him good multitasking skills, because he hears JJ's question and passes his own water bottle to you, the plastic looking comically small in his large hands.
"Thank you," You mumble, "Uh- you set alarms on your phones... for me?"
"You don't do it for yourself," Derek teases, pinching at your side as you struggle to juggle both the pill bottle and the water. When you get the cap off of the medicine bottle Morgan takes it from you, shaking out the dosage you need and screwing the cap back on.
"I take them," You defend yourself, taking a swig of water and washing the medicine down, "I was just preoccupied tonight."
"And that's why we have the alarms," Rossi reasons, "Penelope had to help Reid and I with ours, she's the one that found your medical records and told us what time you needed to take them."
"That snoop," You scoff, "Someone has to take those computers away from her."
"I've tried," Aaron reasons, finally off his phone call, "She always outsmarts me. You took the meds?"
"Yeah," You nod, "Uh, thanks, guys."
"Anytime," Derek goads, ruffling your hair despite your protests to fight him off, "Someone let Garcia know you took 'em, or she'll call you herself."
Before Prentiss can pick her phone up off of the table, yours rings. There's a round of snickers throughout the room, and you raise it to your ear with a fondly exasperated sigh, "Yes, Penelope, I took my meds."
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lynxgriffin · 2 months
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This might be a weird one, but Flowey meeting Noelle?
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Since Asgore mentions the Holidays in his alarm clock dialogue, you've got to figure that Flowey ran into Noelle a couple times in his resets!
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mo-mode · 3 months
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Back on my Screenwriter soap box while watching PJO: They should have bought a bunch of oil diffusers.
(Edit: This post was made before someone pointed out to me that I missed a key line of dialogue, but my points and theories still stand for the same reasons backing up my original post so I’m not changing anything. The dialogue I missed lets us know that Hermes told Percy the lotus was being pumped into the air off-screen. It’s also implies (? I’m still on the fence about this one?) that Hermes told him what day it is, but I missed these during my first three watches because of how quick and vague it was. Which actually kind of supports my point on why visual indicators are so important. Without these, it’s easy to miss key information. And remember, it’s a kid’s show. ANYWAY my conclusions haven’t changed, and I still believe these edits would work better than the quick line of dialogue so just keep this in mind. Thanks.)
(I’m not being nit-picky. I swear. Just hear me out.) So the weirdest thing to me in episode six was how Percy just…learned everything so quickly without any visual indicators? Like they know time passed because it’s dark outside, but how did he know it was Thursday? They know they were affected by the lotus flowers, but how does he know it was pumped into the air? This irked me because even if he’s smart enough to figure some of this out himself (which he is) we as the audience should still be able to follow his thought process instead of learning after the fact.
What if there were oil diffusers?
So imagine the trio walks into the Lotus, figures out this is like the Odyssey, and decides not to eat anything. They waltz in super confident that they cracked the code, but they were wrong. How do we know? Because the moment they enter the crowd, we get an establishing shot of a lotus-branded oil diffuser letting out steam.
Immediately, we as the audience realize their mistake, making it just that more tantalizing to watch. As the episode continues, we realize they’re everywhere. There’s a diffuser in the plants, on the counter, between the game tables, always right out of the corner of our eyes. They just keep churning out lotus-scented oil into the air, which we can infer because we’re smart. (Remember that.)
Now when Percy realizes what’s going on, we know HOW they’re doing it and HOW Percy knows without being told!! Because they were there the whole time.
Onto Thursday.
Consider: A watch.
What if Hermes has the only watch in the casino until the trio walks in with their own?
Let’s give Annabeth one of those cheap, funky watches that gives the time, day, month, year, etc. Something you get from a kids toy catalogue. It’s waterproof, glows in the dark, has an alarm or whatever. I feel like Annabeth would have one of those. (And honestly, she might already. I forgot.) The most important feature for us, though, is the day. It clearly tells us the day of the week.
It’s pretty easy to establish that Annabeth has the watch. Just do it the same way they establish the date: Percabeth arguing over it in the truck. Annabeth shows him the watch. Establishing shot of the watch’s face. That’s it. No bells or whistles necessary. Then when they get to the casino, Annabeth checks it one more time (without an establishing shot, she just does it casually) and they walk in.
(It’s so easy. I promise.)
While Grover is walking around alone, he tries to check the time and realizes there’s no clocks. (Which ngl is super common in casinos already, but it’s creepy nonetheless.) Yada yada, he gets sucked in by Augustus and that’s how he gets got.
Meanwhile, Percy and Annabeth keep meaning to check the time, but every time they do, someone tries to hand them an appetizer or a drink, which makes them forget OR Annabeth’s hubris keeps her from checking. (Percy: Time check? Annabeth: Its only been five minutes. We’re fine. We need to focus.)
And that brings us to Hermes. After their chat, yada yada, Annabeth “leaves” and Hermes gets all cryptic, then he makes a BIG show of checking his watch, and THAT’S when Percy realizes something’s wrong because oh no they haven’t checked the time. So he finds Annabeth, they see it’s dark outside, they check her watch, and it’s Thursday.
“But we didn’t eat anything!” Annabeth says. Percy looks at the diffusers by the entrance. It dawns on him. “They’re pumping it into the air.”
That’s how you VISUALLY SHOW US THINGS instead of Percy just figuring everything out off-camera and telling us!!!!
Now, you may be thinking “Oh but do they have the budget for that??” Do you know how cheap these props are? Just bulk buy like six oil diffusers, slap a homemade sticker of a lotus flower on them, and keep moving them into every shot. And they’re quiet!! They wouldn’t interfere with the sound, the steam is visible enough to be caught on camera without messing with the lighting, they actually look really cool in some lighting, and they fit the atmosphere of a hotel/casino!! Then the watch is like $15, fits with Annabeth’s character, and totally matches her outfit.
It’s CHEAP! It’s EASY! It DOESN’T CUT INTO THE RUN TIME! It’s AESTHETICALLY PLEASING! ANNABETH GETS A SICK WATCH!! NO DOWNSIDES!!!!
The biggest problem with this show isn’t how accurate it is to the book or how much money they have or that they’re “Disney-fying” it. The problem is they are TELLING US things instead of SHOWING us. And not to beat a dead horse because everyone’s heard of “Show Don’t Tell” but like??? This is exactly why everyone is taught this over and over again in school?? Because people still do it anyway all the time???
There’s also something else I learned (or really just picked up) when I got my B.A. in Creative Writing: Good shows are predictable.
Whether it’s a case of the audience learning what’s going to happen before it happens or them watching the show again and realizing how obvious the answer was the whole time, audiences always want to feel smart. They want to interact with the material. If you don’t give them the opportunity to pick apart the mystery themselves by setting down clues, they’ll give up on interacting with the show and lose interest. That’s why you SHOW them things. There are several moments where this show is completely unpredictable, not because it’s complex but because it doesn’t let you predict it. That doesn’t make it bad—the comedy and character development is doing a great job of carrying the show’s weight so far. But it definitely doesn’t make the show good.
It’s like Rube Goldberg machines. Or dominoes! We don’t watch those crazy 1000+ domino videos so we can watch the last one fall. We watch it to see HOW they fall. Take one domino out, and it’s unsatisfactory. It doesn’t work anymore.
But some oil diffusers and a watch??? Little clues that make the realization that more visually appealing??? THAT’S SATISFYING
Anyway, these are just two things that could have been done, but weren’t. Most of the show is stellar. I think it just needs a little bit of editing here and there. I studied this for like years, and I needed to get this off my chest. That’s it.
Rick Riordan, if you ever see this, I am available for hire :) I would love to be a script doctor please please please please
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compulsiverotting · 8 months
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I love canon(implied) Papyton content.
The fact that Papyrus says all game "glad I don't live in Hotland" but once you meet Mettaton he changes his mind.
Also that Papyrus invited Mettaton to his Christmas party and Mettaton actually went (undertale website, dialogue for Undertale Alarm Clock)
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(Gurl what happened)
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And these adorable stickers from the Undertale sticker package for Line that are directly next to one another
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solarmorrigan · 1 month
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Requested by @westifer-dead (I think?? I hope that was directed at me)
This probably wasn't what you had in mind, but in my defense, it absolutely was not what I planned on writing. It sorta snuck up on me. I hope this is okay, though <3
🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation
Prompt from this post
Tags/CW: transmasc Steve, fairly explicit depiction of menstruation, resulting mentions of blood, mentions of dysphoria, Steve's internal dialogue is rather unkind to himself in this one (soft ending, though??)
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Steve’s first, horrified thought when he wakes feeling an uncomfortable amount of damp sticking his boxers to his skin is that he’s somehow managed to piss the bed.
The immediate wakefulness caused by that thought, however, is enough to give him a second one – particularly when he feels the ache low in his gut and spreading down his hips as he rolls over to toss the covers back and reveal the red stain on both his underwear and the sheets.
Fuck.
He’s early.
His period shouldn’t have been along for another couple of days, at least, and Steve hadn’t even thought about putting on a pad before getting into bed—he glances at the clock—two hours ago.
“Motherfucker,” Steve hisses.
He’d gotten home from the world’s most frustrating late shift sometime after midnight and had actually managed to get to sleep by one, and now his body is pulling this shit on him – waking him with pain and mess at three in the goddamn morning, days before it had any right to. And now his boxers are probably toast, and the sheets might be salvageable but he’s going to have to get up and change them right now, and he’s so fucking tired, and it’s three in the morning, and when he shifts to sit up, he’s caught for a moment by the sticky-slick feeling of blood drying against his skin.
He does his best to swallow back the feeling of nausea that creeps up on him at the sensation,  but it’s something he hasn’t had the stomach for since being covered in Eddie’s blood after hauling him out of the Upside Down, and the cramps really aren’t helping.
It’s for all these reasons that he’s probably less gentle than he could be when he reaches over to shake Eddie awake.
“Eddie, wake up.”
Eddie groans and rolls over, curling up with his back to Steve.
Steve huffs and gives him a shove. “Eddie.”
“S’early,” Eddie grumbles. “G’way.”
Normally, Steve doesn’t mind Eddie’s steadfast refusal to wake up for anything less than three alarms and the promise of coffee. Sometimes he even has fun with it, seeing how quickly he can rouse Eddie with other sorts of promises. Right now, though, he has less than no patience, and he grabs his pillow and whacks Eddie in the side with it.
“Wake up!”
“Whatthefuck,” Eddie gasps, bolting upright and glancing around the room for his assailant.
Later, Steve might feel bad; for now, he only drawls, “You awake now?”
“Did you hit me with a pillow?” Eddie demands, eyeing the weapon in Steve’s hands.
“You wouldn’t wake up,” Steve says. “I need you to get up for a minute.”
“What? Why, what’s– oh.” Eddie much catch sight of the mess as Steve twists to shove the pillow back behind himself. “Shit.”
Steve’s face heats with embarrassment. “Shut up,” he snaps. “Just get out of the bed.”
Clumsily, Eddie moves to obey. “I didn’t mean–”
“It’s– never mind, I shouldn’t have snapped, sorry, just–” Steve sighs. “Just let me change the sheets.
He strips the comforter from the bed and rolls it up to toss it into the chair in the corner of the room to be put back on when he’s done, but he doesn’t make it much farther before his body betrays him with another wave of squeezing cramps and a dribble of blood sliding down the inside of his thigh from under the loose leg of his boxers.
He swears and lunges for the tissue box on his bedside table to catch the drip before it can hit the floor, and he can hear Eddie hiss a breath in through his teeth – it’s probably in sympathy, Steve recognizes distantly, but in the moment he still feels like he might die of shame.
“Let me– let me get cleaned up. Just a minute,” Steve mutters, balling the tissue up in his fist and making for the dresser. “Then I’ll finish with the sheets.”
“Why don’t you go take a quick shower?” Eddie suggests quietly. “I can finish the sheets.”
Yanking a pair of briefs out of the dresser, Steve slams the drawer shut. “I can clean up my own damn mess, Eddie.”
“I know you can, but you don’t have to,” Eddie says, much more patiently than Steve probably deserves. “I’m betting you’ll feel ten times better if you get the chance to rinse off, so go ahead. You know how much I love wrestling with the fitted sheet.”
Steve should probably say no. It’s stupid to make Eddie clean up after him when he’s perfectly capable of doing it himself.
He should say no, but he doesn’t want to.
He glances back at Eddie, who looks nothing but sincere in his offer, and nods. “Thanks,” he mumbles, and Eddie gives him a little smile and a nod in return.
In the bathroom, Steve makes the water as hot as he can stand it and pops two Advil before stripping and shoving his boxers straight into the trash. If he tried hard enough, he might be able to get the stain out, but he doesn’t have the mental fortitude to contemplate doing that right now. His t-shirt has been spared any blood, but he puts it in the hamper to be washed, anyway. It just feels dirty now.
There are some months where Steve’s period comes and goes without any fuss; it’s an inconvenience and a bit of a drain, but hardly worth comment. Then there are some months that shove Steve headfirst into ten different stages of dysphoria and various neuroses for no apparent reason.
This one feels like it’s going to be the latter.
Even once he’s standing under the shower spray, the blood already sluiced down the drain, Steve doesn’t feel like he’s ever going to be clean again. He knows it’s his shitty brain lying to him, he knows that the feeling will go away in a few days—a week, at most—but that doesn’t help him now.
He wastes an extra ten minutes in the shower, trying to convince himself he’s only staying in because the hot water is helping his cramps (only partially true; he’s so tense that they haven’t really abated, and in fact have crawled up his sides now, seizing on the scar tissue from his bat bites and yanking his whole abdomen in tight, but he’s hoping it will help with his cramps), but he does eventually manage to force himself out and dry off.
With the fuck-off-biggest pad he owns shoved into his underwear, Steve heads back to the bedroom and stops short inside the door.
The lights are still dim, and Eddie is waiting up for him, sitting against the pillows with his book. He’s not only changed the sheets and fixed the comforter, but he’s laid out a pair of pajamas for Steve – the exact pair he prefers when he’s having a particularly bad day. And for some reason, that’s it for Steve.
The tears hit before he can even try to choke them off, and Eddie must not be very immersed in his book, because the first ragged breath is enough to alert him to the fact that something is wrong.
He looks almost wounded when he catches sight of Steve standing in the doorway like a weepy idiot, and Steve would feel bad, but Eddie’s already up and out of the bed and coming towards Steve with his arms open in offering.
And with anyone else, Steve would shy away; this isn’t a part of him that anyone needs to see, this weakness and inability to cope. But from Eddie– even as stupid as Steve feels right now, he knows he doesn’t have much that he needs to hide from a man who will help him clean up his own blood and then offer to hold him while he cries about it.
He accepts the hug, allows himself to be led back over to the bed and sat down, and then lets himself be held.
Eddie presses his lips to Steve’s forehead and then swipes his thumbs over Steve’s cheeks, wiping away whatever tears fall and kissing him there, too, like he can replace the evidence of his distress with love.
And hell, maybe he can.
In a while, Steve will want to get dressed and they’ll both need some actual rest, but for now, Steve thinks he’s more than willing to sit and let Eddie try.
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packet-of-staples · 8 months
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Day 188 of drawing Papyrus until he cameos in deltarune! Sorry Undyne his need to be a good friend and his job being your wing man are at odds with each other. You know when he picked Alphys for his hockey team in the alarm clock dialogue? Yeah I feel like he does stuff like that a lot accidentally… SORRY HE’S TRYING HIS BEST HERE!!
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pjmparadise · 1 year
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3:23 am (don’t go, stay) Pt 1 || JJK
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Pairing: jungkook x f! original character
Word count: 12.1k
Genre(s): fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, slight angst if you squint; neighbor au, pre-debut Jungkook au, pre-debut au, comic book artist Jungkook au, apartment au, neighbor au
Warnings: cursing, mentions of jungkook’s penis (yeah yeah... he sleeps naked ofc), brief injury (jk hurts himself bc he’s a dork); descriptions of anxiety and fear (jungkook is scared for a sec, oops); nudity mentions, jungkook is a little horny (what can I say....), jungkook gets a hard on lol; he’s also down bad pathetic crushing and is super clumsy, and brief mentions of home robberies (lol this feels random, but it isn’t I swear), very heavily dialogue based
Audience: 18+ (minors, DNI!)
Summary: Jungkook has had a couple of awkward run-ins with his pretty upstairs neighbor, who he may or may not be secretly pining over, and one night, she pays him an unexpected visit.
“My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”
“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”
He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
A/N: WOOO! my first jungkook fic!! We recently got his birth time, and thus this title was born lol! I’ve been working on this baby for a few months now, and it’s finally finished!! After a long time of contemplating, i decided to make our female character an original character, and i know it’s kind of a rare thing in the community, but i felt it worked best with my story. It’s been a bumpy ride with this one since it’s my first lengthy fic (over 12k words... sheesh!) that will be a part of a short series. I’m very excited and a little nervous, but if you’re here, I’m glad to have you here. Thank you for giving my work a shot <3 (ps. italics indicate jungkook’s inner thoughts as well as flashbacks)
a big thank you to my lovely beta’s: @cherrysoulth @the-boy-meets-evil​ and @jeonjcngkook​ you’ve all helped me shape my fic and have been so helpful, and I am so so grateful. truly. seriously. thank you for brainstorming with me, for reading my work, and for being so sweet and so supportive.
a special thank you to @itaeewon​ for the lovely banner! I love it so so much &lt;3
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Jungkook is awake to hear the sound of a muffled thud nearby.
His bedroom is dark and silent save for the alarm clock resting on a bedside table flashing bright red numbers at him. ‘It’s late, it’s late, you should be asleep,’ the time says. Jungkook shuts his eyes, groaning and rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, fuck, I know,” he mutters. He’s fully naked, lying on his back, eyes wide open and boring into the ceiling, blanket kicked off to the side, and arms folded behind his neck–still remembering a phone conversation with Namjoon earlier in the day.
“So she walked toward the elevator as it closed, and you didn’t open it for her?” Namjoon scoffs over the phone, shaking his head and clicking his tongue to show he’s disappointed. He knows Jungkook froze, Jungkook already told him he wanted to reach out and push the button for her, but Namjoon asked again anyway—he likes to give him a hard time. “Every time you see this girl, things just kind of go wrong. I’ve noticed.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook says with a sigh. “I’ve noticed too. Is it a sign? Should I give up?” In his apartment, he sat curled up on his couch, his chin on his kneecaps. He’s fallen silent in thought.
“No, nothing like that. Maybe she didn’t get to see it was you, so she thinks it was someone else, or maybe she doesn't even think about it anymore. You know, like things that happen in your day you forget about later unless something reminds you of it?”
“Yes!” Jungkook relaxed, falling back against the couch with a hand over his forehead. “That probably is what’s going on. She went on with her day; other things have to happen, right?”
Namjoon was quiet. In his apartment, he was opening mail and reading over a proposal he was meant to sign soon. A project he hasn’t mentioned to anyone else, Namjoon folds the letter and sets it aside. “Sorry, yes. Yes, don’t worry too much. It will ruin your day. I mean that. Sorry for the pause. I just opened some mail.”
“Ah, okay. Well, you’re right.” Jungkook rose from his seat then. “Namjoon-hyung?”
Namjoon nodded even though he couldn’t be seen. “Yeah?”
“Thank you. I don’t know if I say that enough, but you’re always helping and guiding me when I don’t even realize I need it.”
“Thank you, Jungkook. Finish your comic tonight, and submit it tomorrow. I know you’ll place in the contest and do well. You haven’t scrapped it have you?”
Jungkook sighed. Rubbing his eyelids, walking distractedly around his living room, he spoke with his eyes closed. “I have it. I finished it; I just don’t feel too good about posting it, even with the pseudonym; it feels like too much. Too much with what we already have going on as a group even. We’re trying to do something together, and the comic stuff is just… I don’t know. I don’t want it to distract me.”
Namjoon was on his back patio, leaning over the railing and looking out at the park across from him. “Jungkook, I’m going to tell you something and think about it however you want to. I respect your life, but I think—and these are just my opinions. I think you doubt yourself too often and need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.” Namjoon folds his arms over the railing, leaning his body against it. “No rush, bro. At all. The music we’re trying to pursue, it’s not going anywhere, you know?”
Jungkook nodded from his living room.
“Like, okay, look.” Namjoon fixed his gaze on a flock of birds rising from the trees. “The guys, we all have our passions. Yoongi with his piano, Jimin is passionate about his dancing, Taehyung with his instruments, Jin and his gaming, and Hoseok he’s been designing his own clothes lately; with me, you know I like poetry and painting, but we all share music. That is for the team, for a part of us, but we each have so many parts. You like art and storytelling; your comics are so cool, bro. You love watching Taehyung practice the trumpet, and Jimin dance after practice. We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.”
Jungkook almost cried. He stopped pacing. His heart was racing; it was all he had heard momentarily. If Namjoon were there in front of him, he’d hug him. Maybe he’d even cry. “Ah, Namjoon-hyung…” he swallowed hard at the saliva in his throat, blushing. ‘Namjoon always knows what to say,’ he thought. “I will think about it. I will set an alarm, just in case. I’ll decide in the morning, you know it’s my style to do that the day of. If I think about it now, it will be like this all day, and I’ll stress too much.”
“Good, then. Just think about it.” Namjoon smiled.
Jungkook lies motionless with his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, mouthing along to Namjoon’s words. “We like to see you pursue your other dreams too.  Pursue it, and don't worry about the group, is all I ask.” He sighs. How could he not worry about the guys? He’s twenty-five. Most idols start out much younger, and the mandatory enlistment is already so near for his hyungs. It’s bad timing, is all. My comic book can wait.
He wants to sleep, so he turns over, laying flat on his stomach, facing his wall. Resting his full body weight on his flaccid penis is slightly uncomfortable, but he ignores it. It’s the type of restless night that he has no chance up against, and even with his eyes closed, he feels painfully awake. Jungkook is thinking of her again—her pretty smile, the pink sundress she wore in the elevator, her ability to look him in the eyes and not shy away—and it’s almost like she's here, in the same room with him. He pictures the sundress again, the way it clung to her frame, highlighting every curve. Man, I want her. He shifts his hips around, surprising himself with a massive erection.
The thud strikes again suddenly, and he sits up, alarmed. Shit, is that here? Like outside my apartment? Jungkook squints in the darkness, bringing a hand to the nightstand to fetch his glasses. Any sign of arousal is now extinguished.
“Bam?” He calls out in a sluggish voice.  The clock beside him flashes bright red numbers at him. 3:23. “Ah, shit,” Jungkook mumbles, turning the clock away. A sound he can’t distinguish comes from his left, directly outside his bedroom. “It’s like home alone,” he says to no one.
Jungkook rests his head against the wall, the texture cold against his feverish face. He can hear the sound of a muffled conversation. “Shit, that’s right here, right outside,” he mumbles, stepping back. He reaches over mechanically to switch on the lamp beside him.
Now, Jungkook is painfully aware of his nakedness and frenetically searches for bottoms to change into. He’s thinking about how his legs don’t feel like his own as he walks to the chair by the door, where he sees basketball shorts. It’s like sleepwalking. Even though he’s awake, Jungkook feels as though he might’ve actually fallen asleep, and this is some strange anxiety dream he’s creating to cope with his qualms about submitting his comic. Still, he goes along with it, quietly changing into the shorts, walking out into his living room, and ducking his head when he passes the glass patio door.
Cursing under his breath, annoyed at himself for forgetting to throw on a shirt, Jungkook shakes his head at himself. I don't want to fight an intruder shirtless and commando in basketball shorts, damn... A part of him feels a rush of adrenaline as he crouches behind a potted plant and, chewing on his lower lip, fantasizes about a robbery gone wrong, one where he puts his boxing skills to the test—the other part of him wants this to be a dream, a sign from the universe that he ought to submit his comic. I’ll fucking do it if I survive this.
Jungkook stays like that for a while until he hears a sound again. Rising from his crouched position, he walks toward the back patio window, pulling back the curtain to peer out. He feels a tightness in his chest, and his hands tremble slightly. A shameful part of him is relieved that he’s alone and no one is around to see how shaken up he is.
He whistles quietly, calling to Bam, forgetting his brother is watching over him tonight. Craning his neck, he glances around his balcony patio and sees nothing. “Bam, come here,” his whispering is frantic. He whistles again, patting his leg lightly. Nothing. You’re okay. It’s nothing. It’s probably the cats again tipping over the plants. Just fix it tomorrow. Now, go back to bed. You need it. Jungkook is about to whistle once more when he remembers. His eyebrows knit together; shaking his head, he places his fingertips on his eyelids, murmuring a lamented, “Ah.”
Thinking better of it, he draws the curtain back again and sighs with relief before taking note of a figure crouched behind a chair with a hand shooting up to rub their head. Panic washes over him. His inner monologue consists of a string of every curse word he can think of as he ducks out of view. Fuck, fuck, fuck, that’s a person. If he’d been scared earlier, now he’s downright petrified.
Desperate, he begins to look around the room for a weapon. Anything. Jungkook stands still, breathing in heavy gulps of air, cradling his head as he adjusts his vision to the darkness of the living room. ‘Can’t even turn a fucking light on,’ he thinks as he drops to the ground and crawls around his living room. His home’s silence unsettles him. Jungkook can hear the nothingness aside from his ragged breathing, so he pinches the skin on his arm and hisses at the sharp pain. Okay, real life it is. His bare knees skid against the hard flooring, and his clammy palms slip beneath him; his heart is thudding hard and fast, the blood pooling between his ears. He’s scowling, chewing his lower lip, his chest heaving as he fumbles a hand under the couch; he fingers a cold object and remembers what it is. Aha! He comes up with a golf club Taehyung left behind a few nights ago. I love you, Taehyung!
Jungkook grips the golf club until his knuckles take on a pale color. Having a weapon gives him a newfound sense of security, and like before, he’s fantasizing about kicking someone’s ass. “You come to my house at three in the morning? My house?” he says as he walks through his living room, rolling his shoulders.
He draws the curtain again, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness; he sees the figure facing away from him and hunching over, a phone glowing against their face. He can call the police, and he almost wants to, but to avoid the drama of a police visit at three in the morning, he decides against it. Imagine the guys find out I called the police? He shudders at the thought. The stranger looks small anyway.
Jungkook reaches for the doorknob and pulls back the door. It’s a lot chillier than he’d anticipated. He folds his arms over his bare chest instantly, the skin covered in goosebumps—his teeth chatter of their own accord.
“Don't move!” He raises the golf club in a mid-swing position, ready to strike. The person shifts around, holding up the hand with the phone. “I said, ‘Don’t move’!” He sounds ridiculous, but he doesn't care. In the shadows, he watches the phone’s glow shut off. “I called the police, so don’t try anything. They’re on the way.” His voice doesn't even sound like his own. He takes a few steps toward the stranger, his grip tightening around the golf club. His heart feels heavy in his chest.
It’s hard to make out the features of this person, but they rise, walk toward the dim light spilling from the neighbor’s window, and he can see them now. The stranger looks straight at him, and he’s met with wide eyes staring at him. She’s standing, squinting at him with a hand on her hip, and she smiles wide. Damn! If this were an animation, she’d have a halo effect.
Jungkook has seen her a total of seven times—he can’t help it; he likes to keep track of these things. It’s his upstairs neighbor, their interactions before tonight being brief and in passing (the most recent engraved in his mind and tormenting him), and he’s thought of her tirelessly and has fantasized about a time they should meet, and things go well for a change.
Jungkook doesn't know her name, but he could recognize those beautiful dark eyes anywhere. He’s looking into them now, his body anchored, mouth turning into sawdust.
She’s talking to him; he’s just not listening. Not really. He can't grasp the reality that it’s actually her, and she’s standing on his patio, and she looks so beautiful. Should he be thinking that?
Her long black hair is in a loose ponytail, her eyebrows arch as her deep dark eyes blink at him, and her lips move. “Please tell me you didn't really call the cops,” she says, bursting through his trance.
Damn, I sounded so stupid! Jungkook blushes. He hopes she can’t tell from where she stands.
“I was trying to call my friend; I swear I was not snooping or breaking in.” She smiles, but her voice sounds worried. Her eyebrows furrow like she’s trying to read him. “Honest,” she says in a small voice as she leans on the railing and raises her hand with the cell phone for emphasis.
She’s wearing a dark gray sweatshirt twice her size and sandals with white socks, and he can’t tell if she’s wearing shorts or if the sweatshirt is all. He can feel his face reddening just from the possibility of her nakedness underneath the sweatshirt, so he decides not to focus on that.
Jungkook rubs the nape of his neck, abashed. The cold air surrounds him, and he folds his arms across his chest, remembering his exposed chest. His empty threat echoes and bounces around in his head, and he looks away from her. “I didn't call the cops, sorry. I didn't know what else to say. It’s what they say in movies.”
“You would be right anyway; this is your patio.” She laughs a little at that, and his heart rate picks up. She pushes herself away from the railing, smiling, and walks toward him with an outstretched hand. Her nail polish is glittery, and he doesn't notice, but this small detail makes him smile. “I’m Rei. I live upstairs. Maybe you’ve seen me before.” There’s a coy look on her face as she says this, and it makes him nervous.
So her name is Rei!!! Fireworks set off, exploding behind Jungkook’s wide eyes.
“Huh, maybe,” Jungkook lies. He shakes her hand slowly, his hand enveloping hers entirely, the contact sending a warm shock through his body.
“Maybe a few days ago,” she says, with a finger to her chin, like she’s thinking over something. “Oh, yes, have I seen you on the elevator?”
“The elevator?” He feigns innocence as he tongues his lip ring anxiously. “That’s strange. Every day is a blur for me.”
“For me, too,” she replies. She’s almost smirking, watching Jungkook lie. He can tell she’s caught him. “You just look sooo familiar.”
“That’s a first.” Still, he denies it.
“Maybe you just look like someone I’ve seen,” she says, looking into his eyes as if searching for something she placed there. “You have one of those faces, you know?”
Jungkook raises his eyebrows, lips parted to speak, but nothing comes out. 
Is she flirting with me or giving me a hard time? DAMN!
“I have an ordinary face?” Jungkook wonders after a moment.
“Either that or my memory is failing me,” she says, sighing and shaking her head. “Which do you think it is?”
“I don't have an ordinary face,” Jungkook says in a small voice, “I have piercings on my face.”
“That’s true…” she’s watching the ground and suddenly looks into his eyes again. She holds his stare unblinking, and then her lips pull back into a big smile showing off cute bunny teeth. Just like me. “I’ve always had a good memory; I was just kidding.”
“Oh,” Jungkook says, blushing.
He can smell her perfume when a cold breeze blows past him, carrying her real-life presence and enveloping him in it. It’s sweet and mixed with a scent of detergent he recognizes, and he’s watching how strands of her hair float beside her face. She’s so cute. Damnnnn.
“You should open the door for the ladies,” Rei says, raising an eyebrow, and stepping closer, she says, “Just harmless advice. Stranger .”
“I will consider that,” he replies, avoiding her fixed stare, attempting to ignore how she’s riled him up with a loud clearing of his throat. But his chest is on fire, his heart thudding hard against his rib cage at her closeness. “My patio, though. Did you fall? I heard a thud.”
“Are you flirting with me? I’ve heard that pickup line before, but yours sounds a little different.”
He smiles. “I wouldn’t use pickup lines like those with you.”
She laughs, and he internally swoons. If he were a cartoon, his heart would burst out of his chest in comical dramatic thuds, his pupils heart-shaped.
“I’m kidding. I know I’m giving you a hard time when I’m on your patio at three in the morning, but I can explain why I’m here,” Rei mimics Jungkook’s movements by crossing her arms across her chest, her lower lip trembling, “but can I come in? It’s cold out, and I'm in the worst attire for this weather.” She gestures vaguely at her exposed legs, and Jungkook’s stare lingers before she notices—so he responds with a nod as he gestures for her to follow him inside. “Though you might have me beat. You came out here without a shirt, damn.”
Leading the way, he blushes at her comment and gives his head a light shake. She’s so talkative! Yoongi was right about her.
With a dreamy air about him, he remembers Namjoon’s words. Except now, all he remembers is: “You need to take some chances. Luck turns out; it does.”
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Inside, Jungkook excuses himself to his room to change into a shirt. He reaches for his glasses beside his bed and goes to the closet. “Shirt, shirt, shirt,” he mutters as his hands sift through empty hangers. When was the last time he did laundry? He groans. “Shirt?” he reaches to pick up a heap of white clothing in the deep corner of the closet. He brings the shirt to his nose, sniffs, and walks back into the room, raising an eyebrow and nodding with approval. His hands are shaky as he maneuvers his head through a t-shirt sleeve in a panicked rush. He yanks the shirt off again, the t-shirt now inside out and knotted up in his grip; he groans as his fingers work the fabric. What if she’s gone when I go back out there? Agh, what if I’m dreaming all of this up, and lack of sleep is finally getting to me?
Rei’s voice comes through the walls, and though this is their first official meeting, he knows she’s smiling as she calls out to him. “You okay in there?”
Smoothing out the wrinkles on the shirt, he glances at his reflection behind the bedroom door before stepping out, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. “I’m okay; all is OK. Sorry.” He offers her a thumbs up and a big goofy grin that makes her laugh.
“Did you go on a hike without me?” She asks from her seat on his couch. She rests her face on her palm, looking up at him as he walks past toward the kitchen.
“Hike? I just put the shirt on; it was fighting me, though.”
“No, I meant,” she shakes her head, laughing. “I meant that as a while for changing into a shirt. Bad joke, sorry.”
“Ah,” Jungkook says.
“You’re wearing glasses,” she comments, her eyes looking over his face.
“I am,” he says, glancing her way.
It looks like she wants to say something else but doesn't.
He raises his eyebrows, nodding and tonguing the inside of his cheek. It doesn't happen often, but he doesn't know what to say. He walks into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. “Do you drink tea?” He wonders as he fills a kettle with water and sets it to boil.
Rei nods, stretching her legs before her and craning her neck back to look up at the ceiling. “Chamomile or whatever you have, I’m not picky.” She points a finger above her head, motioning for him to look. “Those are stars. Is this wallpaper? It looks pretty. Is it glow-in-the-dark?”
Jungkook is in the kitchen, his eyes watching how her finger moves in a swift motion of the length of the ceiling. He thinks about how her hand felt in his grip and wishes he’d been more present. “It’s… I don’t know, actually. It’s not a wallpaper; it’s carved into the ceiling, and yes, it glows but not like the bright green; it’s softer.” He looks at her, and she scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. “Want to see?”
She twists her body to look at him, her smile so big he can’t help but return the affection. “Yes. Show me.”
“Grab the remote beside you; turn off the lights with it.”
She clicks the lights off, and the gasp she lets out makes his heart flutter in his chest. Aside from the hard thudding in his chest, the only sounds nearby are the buzzing of the refrigerator, the ice machine rolling out handfuls of freshly carved-out cubes, and the bubbling water in the kettle. Jungkook doesn't dare disturb the quiet; he’s leaning against the kitchen table, wanting her to stay. He looks for her in the dark, his eyes finding her silhouette on the couch, his lips pulling back into a smile. She’s better than in his daydreams; she smells sweet and of detergent, and she feels like a real person just like him, so near but out of his reach. And here, in the same room as him, so close to him, Jungkook realizes she could’ve left by now but hasn’t.
“I’d love it if I had this on my ceiling,” Rei pouts, “want to trade?” She clicks the lights back on, and Jungkook blinks, slowly adjusting to the brightness.
He pretends to mull it over, humming and tonguing his cheek. He puts on his best-thinking face. “No way, but you can come over and look at the stars when it's overcast or raining outside.” He walks toward the stove, where the water boils in the kettle. With his back turned to her, he’s hiding his blushing face as he sets two cups out before him.
“I think that sounds nice,” she replies, surprising him. “So what, I walk outside sometime, see a gray sky, and come downstairs to see you? ‘Hey, neighbor, can I see the stars?’ and you say, ‘Come in, I’ve just made cocoa, would you like some?’ and I say, ‘Thank you, are you sure?’ and then you say, ‘Sure’ except I never leave because I like the stars so much and you don’t know how to tell me I should go home.”
“Oh, that’s a good conversation. Is that what you’d like me to make? I like hot cocoa,” Jungkook says, brushing the hair out of his eyes. “You think I'd want you to leave?”
“Well, if I were here all the time….” she looks at him through her lashes, and he catches her eyes and raises an eyebrow at her, a playful smirk on his lips. And she shakes her head, laughing. “Do you mean it, though?”
“About you coming to see the stars whenever you’d like?” Jungkook asks, leaning against the kitchen island. She nods at him in two slow motions of her head. “Yes, I mean it.”
“The skies are unusually gray these days, aren’t they?”
“I’ve noticed that too,” he says, opening the fridge. He grabs a box of cherries and shuts the door with his elbow. “But no rain.”
“Exactly, I told my friend Kimi; she lives with me upstairs and is almost a sister to me, except we have different parents. Well, I told her, ‘Haven't you noticed how it looks like it’s going to rain every day, but it never does?’ and she says, ‘Rei, it rains. It just happens to be when you’re asleep,’ and can you believe it? I woke up yesterday, and it was early, not like tonight, but early for me, and I looked outside my window, and there was dew sticking to the glass, and it was all sweaty when I touched the windowpane, and I realized she was right, it rained during the night, and I just missed it. Isn't that something so lame?”
“Huh,” Jungkook says, chewing on a cherry and offering the box to her. She shakes her head no and mouths a ‘Thank you’ to him. “So we’re off asleep and just missing the rain, so it always works out that we’re missing out on something during the day. It’s always like that. Kimi sees the rain, and you’re off sleeping, but you probably get to see other things I miss when I’m taking a nap and on and on.”
“That’s true. But I thought about catching it tonight. When I went to bed hours ago, I kept thinking about the rain and wondering if I stayed up, I might see it, and it wouldn’t just feel like I kept missing it and living the same gray day.”
“It’s like Santa Claus,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose as he tongues a cherry stem in his mouth, “waiting up all night for him to show up just for you to see your dad dressed up as Santa and realize he’s been putting the presents down there for years.”
Rei laughs at this and covers her face with her hands like she’s protecting her laugh from anything sharp. “Your dad did that? For real?”
Jungkook scrunches his eyebrows and pinches his nose bridge, and with a tone of feigned affliction, he says, “Yeah, he did. I knew the truth before a lot of my classmates.”
“How old were you? When he ruined Santa Claus. Do you remember a thing like that, like how old you were?” She rests her chin on her palm like she’s weighing her head. He thinks she looks cute like that but doesn’t say anything.
“I don't know exactly, but I was in the third year of school,” Jungkook says, suddenly thinking back on his infancy. He chews his lower lip when the answer suddenly comes to him, and he remembers the conversation he had with the guys a while back. They’d all taunted Seokjin when they found out Seokjin didn't know the truth about Santa until he was thirteen. “I was seven. I can't believe I remembered that. I was seven….” His mouth hangs open, and he remembers what he wore when he first saw his dad hunched over behind the tree with a gift in hand— a white flannel pajama set and his mother’s slippers. Where has this memory been hiding?  “Damn.”
“I was six,” she says, smiling. “My childhood was ruined a year before yours. Or wait, are we the same age? I just assumed we were.” She laughs again, bringing a hand up to her face to hide her smile.
“I assumed the same thing,” Jungkook admits, feeling his cheeks redden. “I’m twenty-five.”
“Oh wow,” she says, almost to herself. “Me too.”
He doesn't know what else to do but clear his throat and nod.  He never imagined getting this far (whatever that means). He’ll struggle to explain this later when Namjoon asks—Jungkook knows he’ll ask.
The kettle begins to whistle, and he’s reaching for the two coffee mugs as she says something behind him he doesn't catch. And he turns his head over his shoulder and nods at her. “What happened? Sorry, I didn't catch that.”
“I said, ‘You don't have to do that for me.’” She turns her head away as she says this, her long hair cascading along her profile, hiding her.
“I have a visitor,” he says, turning over to look at her with a grin. “I have good manners.”
“Oh, sure, manners,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him like a friend he’s known for years. “Is that my tea? It smells amazing.”
“It is, but it’s hot, so let’s leave it here.” Jungkook offers her a tight-lipped smile, shyly making his way toward her. “Mind if I sit next to you?”
“No, not at all; come, sit.” She pats the spot beside her and scoots over to make room for him. “Thank you for the tea and for letting me in. I know it’s late.”
Jungkook glances at the clock on the kitchen stove. 3:55. “It’s not that late. I was awake anyway, so I didn’t mind.” He’s toying with his lip ring again. “Why were you out there anyway?”
It’s been some time since Jungkook’s been this close to a girl. He feels his heart thudding away in his chest, her presence stirring up a desire that’s been dormant. Loose strands of hair frame her face, and his eyes follow her movements as she brushes the strands away. She looks embarrassed, her cheeks reddening. Still, he finds her so cute. “Truth?”
“Yes.” He scrunches his nose when he smiles at her.
“I locked myself out of my apartment. Before bed, I stepped out into my patio for a smoke and to read more of my book. I was also trying to test my rain suspicions to see if I could catch it while it happened. So, I’m out there romanticizing my life, pretending I’m in a movie; you know how we act when we’re alone and suddenly want to be poetic?” She looks at Jungkook, and he nods lightly. “That was me, except I got cold right away and said, ‘Oh fuck this, I’m going to bed,’ and that’s when I realized I’d locked the back door, and I was so mad I almost cried.” She places her fingertips against her forehead, continuing her recounting. “So, of course, I get the idea of calling a locksmith, but they’re closed; I don’t know what people should do if they need help during the night.”
“Most people sleep, I think.”
She clicks her tongue. “Right, some people do, but you and I are not those people, right?” She draws an imaginary line with her forefinger from her chest toward him. He nods and feigns oblivious as his leg brushes against her bare thigh as she shifts in her seat. “So, not only is every locksmith not available, but my service is horrible, so I am standing on my tiptoes trying to get a bar, and my phone slips. My heart almost burst.” She brings a hand to her chest for visual effect, and his eyes watch her chest as it rises and falls with each breath. He’s smiling at her—a wide smile that hurts his cheeks. “If it weren’t for your patio, my phone would be shattered to hell on the ground. I look over my balcony, and for the first time, I notice how close our balconies are.” Rei presses her hands over her thighs, leaning forward in her seat and fixing her eyes on the glass patio door across from her. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I don’t go out there much. Anyway, I’m rambling. I noticed I could jump directly into your patio because there’s a mattress out there, and well….” She makes a motion with her hands that says: ‘ Ya know?’
“You weren’t scared of jumping? The balconies are close, but we’re still six stories up.” Jungkook rests his hands on his knees, fully invested in this story; his eyes never leave her. She forms a tight line with her lips and gives him a serious look that makes him laugh. “Ok, so you were scared.”
“I was scared! But there’s a mattress out there, you know,” she says in a small voice. She’s blushing and scratching at the side of her nose to avoid his eyes.
Jungkook notices this and clicks his tongue, leaning back in his seat.  “So it was not an accident, then?” He raises an eyebrow at her, sucking his teeth in feigned disapproval.
The truth is, he’s not mad about it; he wants her here. He almost feels like he is in a dream.
“Not entirely. Don’t ask me how I thought about returning to my place after retrieving my phone because I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Oh, there’s a mattress out there. You could’ve just slept there; no big deal,” Jungkook says with a laugh. Rei brings a hand to her face to hide behind, making a groaning sound. “I’m sorry; I don’t mean to laugh at you. I just don't know what to think— this has never happened before.”
“And it won’t happen again; let’s hope.” She laughs, and it’s different from before; it sounds deeper like she reached into herself and decided to really show him. And Jungkook likes the sound of her laugh but does not comment. She moves a few strands of hair from her face and rests her cheek on her hand, leaning on the couch's armrest. It’s slowly dawning on Jungkook how badly he wants her. What am I supposed to do with her this close to me? Damn. “So, what’s your name? You didn’t say when I told you mine.”
He rises from the couch, remembering their tea.
“Jeon Jungkook,” he says as he pours the tea, “I guess I forgot to introduce myself. Huh.”
Rei’s looking at him with her chin in her hand and a serious look on her face as he’s walking toward her with an outstretched hand in offering. “It’s chamomile,” Jungkook announces.
“Jeon Jungkook,” She repeats with a light smile. “I like it. I don’t know any other Jungkooks.”
“Yeah? I’ve had this name for a long time. I like it too.”
She takes the cup and brings it to her face, inhaling the scent and shivering, and says, “Thank you again. This tea smells sweet. It reminds me of this tea my grandmother used to make my sister and me when we were kids. She would put a little bit of honey, the real kind, and peppermint leaves; it was….” She sighs longingly. “I miss that tea; this smells like home.”
Sitting beside her, he takes a sip of tea, his gaze on her unmoving. Her lips part as she blows gently, the steam rising from the cup in lazy strokes. Jungkook’s heartbeat quickens when she matches his stare with her deep dark eyes that seem to look for something in his.
“This tea has honey, but I doubt it’s the real kind you mentioned, but I still think it’s good.” He clears his throat, looking away as he adjusts his glasses on his nose bridge.
“I like your glasses. I wanted to say that earlier,” Rei comments, taking a sip of her tea, “I don't know why I didn't say anything.” She moves around in her seat, tucking her legs beneath her, then asks, “Can I wear them? Are they prescription?”
“They’re just reading glasses. You can wear them. I put them on sometimes just because they suit me,” he pulls his glasses off, wipes the lenses on his shirt, and hands them over.
“Ah, so you like how they look on you,” she says, her eyes gleaming as she takes the glasses from him and sets them on her face. “How do they look?”
If he were a cartoon character from one of his comics, he’d have melted into a puddle, exploded like dynamite, turned into stardust, and returned to his original self. Except, she’s a real person just like he is, flesh and blood and so beautiful, and he’s off in space being reborn.
“Look at me,” he motions for her to turn his way. She looks straight at him, wearing his glasses and blushing at his attention. She begins to unfold in front of him, her playful demeanor softening. “You look pretty. If they weren't my prescription, I would give them to you.”
“Here, they’re hurting my eyes,” she says, laughing. She removes the glasses and starts rubbing her eyes with closed fists. “You’re sweet, though. I couldn't take a guy’s glasses. How will he go on drinking his tea and letting me in to watch the stars?”
Jungkook feels a warmth spread in his chest. God, how is she real? He runs his fingers through his long hair and coughs once, then again. His nerves are getting to him. She’s too close to him, her bare thigh soft against his leg. He begins to count backward in his head.
“Were you really awake already, or did I wake you?” She asks him all of a sudden. Her eyes stay on him as if waiting for him to say something else.
“You don’t believe me? I was awake. Swear.” He raises his free hand at his side.
She appears to mull that over for a bit, bringing her cup of tea to her lips but not taking a sip. “What were you doing?”
Jungkook is silent, and she sits unmoving until he speaks.
What was I doing? Besides dreading another deadline? Thinking about a comic I might not submit or thinking about not having a shot in hell with a girl like you? Images of the times they’ve run into each other flick by in his head like a slow PowerPoint slide. The registration office, desolate stairwells, crowded evacuations, elevators closing, Rei standing in front of him in a summer dress with a strange look on her face; Rei on his back patio, hunched over with a phone near her face; Rei in his apartment, on his couch, next to him. He feels the adam’s apple in his throat rising and falling. He’s been quiet for who knows how long.
“Thinking, I guess.” He breathes out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I don’t know why I took so long to say that. It sounded boring in my head, so I had to think if there was something else I forgot about.”
“That is pretty boring, just thinking. But that’s life, though, isn’t it? Kind of boring sometimes.”
Jungkook nods, blushing and avoiding looking at her. What if she can read minds? He straightens his posture and runs his fingers through his hair again, his eyes fixed on the ceiling of carved-out stars. It’s OK. It’s OK. She’s still here.
The living room is almost dead silent. Jungkook notices how Rei sips her tea and looks over the area. It’s neat, for the most part. Bam’s toys lay scattered near the laundry room entrance, along with some of Jungkook’s dirty socks the dog likes to chew on, and Bam’s food bowls are resting up against the wall beside his doghouse. The potted plants Namjoon gifted Jungkook are still alive and pop against the beige coloring of the walls in front of them. The TV is massive, his Playstation console resting on its side. Her eyes find the corner shelf where Jungkook’s Marvel figurines are on display behind glass doors, and she turns to look at him with a sparkle in her wide eyes. “Are those yours?” She gestures with her thumb. He nods, chewing his lower lip anxiously. “Can I look?” She rises from her seat when he motions for her to go on. Like standing in a museum, she silently peers into the display with her hands clasped behind her back.
“I just got that case a few days ago when I got that plant next to you,” Jungkook remarks, joining her.
“I remember,” she says distractedly.
“You remember?” His eyebrows raise, and he looks at her fixedly, bringing a fingernail to his mouth. He scrunches his eyebrows, rubbing at his forehead with his fingers; he remembers, too.
He’d bumped into Rei on his way upstairs, both arms holding the bonsai trees obstructing his view, taking long strides up the stairs, chanting to himself and grunting in rhythm. He was on the 50th stair.
“Hey!” A voice shouted at him. “What the hell?”
Jerking to the side of the staircase, flattening against it, Jungkook jumped at this voice. “Sorry! You’re okay?”
The voice struck him as familiar, but mostly, he was surprised he wasn't alone on the staircase. The person laughed a lively laugh, and he felt his chest tighten. He lowered the plants, meeting her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said, shaking her head. She grinned at him, and his heart gave a squeeze. “These things happen. I should take the elevator next time.”
“The plants, I mean. You walked past me going up the stairs and hit me on the head with it.” She glances to her right, catching his eyes briefly. He groans, nodding lightly. She continues, voicing their shared memory, “You were carrying two pots of plants that day and lost your balance or something like that.”
He nods with his eyes closed, his eyebrows drawn close together as he tongues his cheek. “I remember, too,” he opens his eyes to look over at her as he continues, “sorry again. My friend told me not to do that, and I didn’t listen.”
A Spiderman figurine holds her attention, and she’s smiling. He feels his cheeks burn at her sincere gesture. She pretends not to notice and says, “You like running into me like that, then?”
“Like how? It was an accident,” Jungkook says, standing beside her and stretching his arms behind his head.
“Riiiiight,” she says, smirking. “Accident.”
“I didn’t know you were in the stairwell. No one takes the stairs,” Jungkook counters, his voice taking on a defensive edge.
“I take the stairs, I like the exercise, and it’s less embarrassing for me,” She admits. “Running in front of people just looks so stupid. I get too worked up about it and think people are just laughing at me, and they might be, but this way, I can do it in private.”
“Running across the street when cars let you pass is very embarrassing for no reason,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “And okay, fair. I took the stairs that time just because the wait for the elevator was so long. I didn’t mean to hit you that time either.”
“Jungkook, we have to stop meeting like this.” She gives her head a light shake and looks down at her hands. She picks at the glitter on her nails distractedly. “So many accidents. We’re too clumsy.”
“I know what you mean. Namjoon told me to leave one of the plants in the lobby, but I was too impatient. I’m like that sometimes.” He can’t seem to stop blushing.
But Jungkook has to agree. There have been too many accidents in their run-ins with each other, and he remembers each encounter with extreme detail.
Jungkook saw her for the first time when he moved in and face-planted into her back as she stood by the entrance of the registration office. But it didn't happen right away, at least.
The office was big and bustling with sounds. Jungkook walked in, asked out loud if there was a line, and someone nearby replied that yes, there was a line, and he was right at the tail of it. He bounced on the heels of his feet, humming a melody to himself, tapping his fingers against the sides of his legs. A TV across from him played a K-Pop music video of a group he’d never heard of. Beneath the TV was a table with a Terra Kaffe espresso machine accompanied by a spread of dan-pat bbang, songpyeon, bingsu, and reusable cups. His stomach grumbled, but he kept still, willing himself to look away.
Rei stood in line, a foot or two in front of Jungkook, sporting her hair pulled back, secured neatly with a clip the shape of a butterfly. She wore casual clothing: a black long-sleeve sweatshirt, baggy pants, and white Nike shoes. She had earbuds in, and he could hear the muffled sounds of a guitar, and though he did not fully understand why, he smiled.
“Next in line, please,” a woman behind a glass window called out, taking an uninspired sip of her iced coffee as she waved a hand toward her. “Come on, next in line.”
Jungkook wore a black t-shirt, navy plaid bottoms, and socks with slides, though standing there, he began to regret his attire. His eyes looked over the office, and mentally, he tallied the number of girls he spotted. Nine. He felt his cheeks warming up, his neck growing hot, and when he looked over to his right, a girl waved at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. He blushed, nodding at her. Why hadn’t he worn something nicer?
He was adjusting his sock, balancing on his right leg, when a dog ran past him, toppling him over. He hopped on his right leg, his arms flailing at his sides, and his face instantly smashed into Rei’s back. If he had a chance to do it over, he wouldn’t have cried out so loud. Even now, months later, he cringes at the memory. He’d turned away, cupping his aching nose after she whipped her head over her shoulder at the sudden impact. Their eyes met briefly, her pupils dark and wide; she mouthed something to him, his ears ringing, all of the sounds around him muddled into incoherence.
“I’m so sorry. Excuse me,” Jungkook mumbled, turning at his heel and speed-walking past a group of girls that giggled when he passed them.
Jungkook thought about her all day after that first day. While he unpacked, walked Bam, and cooked for himself later in the evening. She was pretty, sure, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t break apart and understand— it was new and brought on a strange sensation and desire to know her. He didn't know it then, but he’d see so much of her it would become nearly impossible not to think of her.
And here they are, five months later.
“You agree, don't you?” Rei prods. “Maybe you’re the clumsy one, Jungkook. I was just standing there.” She says that like she knows what he’s thinking. That first day they saw each other. She’s thought of it too.
He swoons at the sound of his name escaping her lips again. “Jungkook,” he mouths, taking it in—not wanting to forget how it sounds when she says it.
She turns on her heel, returning to the couch and fetching her phone from between the cushions. Her backside faces Jungkook, and he shyly lowers his gaze when he catches a glimpse of her ass in shorts that do a poor job of hiding anything. “I’m impatient too, as you know now,” she offers, looking down at her phone, her face illuminated with the screen's glow. She reads something and has a serious look on her face. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”
He squints at the clock on the stove. 4:27. “Yeah, I guess so,” he replies, trying to hide his disappointment.
“Your figures are cool, by the way. They look like the real deal. Are they?”
He nods silently, tonguing his lip ring. Jungkook watches her with a gut-wrenching desire to step forward and take her face into his hands and kiss her.
“You’re a Marvel geek. I'm guessing,” she says, staring down at the ground. It’s like she’s suddenly shy. Her voice is quieter. “I like some of the movies. I saw the new Spider-man with my friends last week. I’m late, I know.”
“I have Disney plus,” Jungkook says, his eyes looking her over. “And I’m not trying to say anything like the ramen stuff, you know, all that stuff people say to each other recently to get together. It’s a real offer.”
Rei laughs, bringing a hand to cover her face. “So you don't want to get together?” She looks at him with a deep intensity in her eyes and smiles coyly, making Jungkook swallow hard.
“I said that, didn't I? That’s not what I meant. It’s just that nowadays, words have different meanings. Let me rephrase-”
She takes a step closer to him, and his chest feels ablaze. She’s so close he can smell the fragrance of her clothing much clearer than before. We use the same detergent.
“I’d like to come by sometime,” she says, her eyes lingering on his hands holding his cup, “for a movie, no ramen.” Now she smiles warmly and takes a step back.
She likes doing this to me. It’s torture.
“Really?”
“Yeah, why not? You seem nice. I don’t think you’d be a freak, right?”
“Right,” he says, nodding.
“I know we’re technically strangers, but you have a good vibe,” she says, shrugging. “I show up here so late, and you serve me tea. You’re a nice guy.”
“Am I?”
“I think so. Are you?” She quirks up an eyebrow, twitching her lips between a smile and a laugh.
Jungkook smiles at her. He feels his cheeks growing warm. “I am. I don’t know why I challenged you about it.”
“Because you like to flirt with me, I think,” she retorts, crossing her arms across her chest.
“I’m just a nice guy,” he says as he places his palms  against the kitchen counter for balance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.” She glances at her phone screen, reading the time, and Jungkook does the same with the time on the kitchen stove. She's going to leave. I can feel it.
“I guess I should get going…”. Rei looks apologetic for some reason. A pink shade colors her cheeks, and she brings a hand to her forehead and lets out a deep breath as she says, “Kinda hot in here, no?”
Jungkook wants to tell her she doesn't have to go and that he doesn't want her to, but he only offers her a timid smile and looks away, nodding in agreement. “A little. I’ve been feeling it too,” he says, looking at her and catching her eyes.
Should I move now? Is it now? My move? Will she kiss me back?
Still, he brings his cup of tea to his lips as she stores her phone in the pocket of her hoodie, and she pauses as if remembering something. “And why is there a mattress outside?”
He’s drinking his tea and begins to choke. Coughing, his chest on fire, and his throat closing in, Jungkook rushes to double over his sink, and she’s standing behind him with a wrought-up look.
“Are you okay?” She steps closer to him, lightly touching his arm.
Jungkook coughs, clearing his throat; he can feel the blood rushing to his face as his eyes instinctively shed tears. The feeling of her touch on his arm feels like fire. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened. The uh, the mattress?” He looks toward his patio, a panicked look in his eyes behind the tear-stained glasses. He pauses, looking down at the floor. “I have them all over, so I can nap when I feel like it.”
She throws her head back and laughs, not taking him seriously until silence hangs between them. She raises an eyebrow. “Wait, really?” With that, her phone goes off in her pocket, and she reaches for it. “Sorry, one sec.”
He leaves her to talk on the phone with whoever and walks over to pick up Bam’s toys and dirty socks to throw in a hamper. Jungkook can hear the muffled phone conversation a room over, so he hums a song. She speaks in a hushed voice, but he hears his name mentioned.
He coughs before he reappears in the kitchen.
She’s humming to herself, lingering by the door, and his heart squeezes. ‘Don’t go,’ he wants to say. ‘Stay.’
“I should go…” she says, not budging from where she stands, chewing her lower lip, looking at Jungkook through full eyelashes. Almost as if waiting for him to interject, and him, not knowing how to.
“If you want,” Jungkook says. He swallows hard at a lump in his throat. The plead to have her stay pushed down into his chest.
DAMN!! 
A look he can’t decipher takes over her face, and then the next moment, she’s smiling at him, reaching for the doorknob just as he does. They share an embarrassed exchange of looks when their hands touch, and he shakes his head, an anxious chuckle escaping him. His face feels warm as he pulls the door open for her. Rei steps out into the hallway, turns over her shoulder, and raises her hand to wave at him slowly.
Again, he yearns to kiss her and again lacks the courage.
“Bye, it was nice meeting you, Jungkook.”
“Goodnight, Rei,” he replies, leaning on the doorframe, his heart sinking into his stomach.
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The next day, Jungkook is cooking for himself. He submitted his comic in the morning and has endlessly replayed last night’s events in his head.
“I should’ve kissed her,” he says to Bam.
Jungkook’s phone pings a few times and is followed by a call. He answers, distracted as he serves himself bibimmyeon and pork belly. He props the phone between his chin and ear, tilting his head comically as he walks back and forward to the table, setting down a steaming bowl of sticky rice. “‘Ey, Namjoon-hyung!…” He drags the chair out from underneath and settles in front of his plate. Jungkook reaches over the table, yanks a paper towel, grabs his chopsticks, and begins digging into the rice. “Wait,” he glances at the clock on the wall. 6:47. “It’s almost seven,” Jungkook says, confused. “Your meeting with the record executive started at six… it ended that quickly?”
Namjoon smiles. “The meeting was quick. I have really good news.” He pauses for effect. He’s in the studio, eyeing the email on screen. “Hold on,” he says, placing the phone on the desk and turning the speaker on.
 Jungkook is chewing his cheek, the chopsticks loosening in his grip. He lets the silence exist for a few seconds, then he rubs the back of his hair, leaning back in his chair, his spare hand fisted over his mouth. “What?” He grumbles into his fist.
“He liked my demo. He had some comments about it but said it would do well. He said everyone else liked it; whatever that means, we’re in. He said we can come in for a group meeting where we introduce the guys, and that way, we can all talk about what we want to do going forward.”
Jungkook is speechless; they’re in. All seven of them. He can’t believe it. He stares wide-eyed at Bam, who tilts his head quizzically. “No way. No way. Is this for real?” Jungkook’s heart is thudding so hard he can see it beneath his shirt.
“I swear, Jungkook. It is.”
“Do the guys know?” Once more, Jungkook meets the eyes of his dog, and he’s smiling so hard he feels his nose scrunch.
“Some of them do, yeah. I was with Jimin earlier.”
“Yoongi,” Jungkook says, bringing his palm over his forehead. Smiling with his eyes crinkling, he feeds himself rice. “Yoongi will be so happy. We all are, you know but him .” Jungkook makes a sound with his teeth. “He’ll be so proud of all of us.”
“I know, I know. Yoongi hasn’t slept well since we first submitted our demos, and when I mentioned I had a meeting with an executive, he grabbed his jacket and took off to the studio. I don’t know what he’s been doing when he comes in, but I know he might cry.”
“I might cry too,” Jungkook admits in a hushed voice.
Namjoon wipes at his eyes, and a silence hangs between them. They’re both sniveling on the receiving end. After Jungkook clears his throat and allows himself another sniffle, he starts eating again.
“What did you make?”
“I have a lot of rice left. I made bibimmyeon and pork belly, but I have some noodles, too, if you want me to make them. Come and eat with me if you’re free. Let’s celebrate.”
“Can I leave my bike outside?” Namjoon asks. Namjoon shuts off the shared laptop in the studio, grabs his puffer jacket and the book he’s been reading, heads over, and flips off the light switch. His phone remains on speaker as he locks the door and shoots a glance down the hallway. From a distance, Yoongi does a quick two-finger salute in passing. Namjoon’s heart gives a squeeze.
Jungkook thinks it over. He’s never seen anyone leave a bike outside. “I don't know, honestly. Bring it to my apartment; it’ll be fine. I have something to tell you, by the way,” he says, referring to the previous night.
“Just saw Yoongi,” Namjoon says, jingling the keys on his finger and making his way out of the building. “I have to tell him, but I think he’s already in his studio locked up. You know how he gets.”
“He won’t let you in,” Jungkook says, scrunching his nose and stifling a laugh through a mouthful of steak.
“Exactly. And what is it? I’m bringing my bike, I thought about leaving it chained, but it’ll stress me out.”
“He’s almost done with his demos, Hobi said the other day,” Jungkook replies. “But it’s about her, bro. You won’t believe me.”
Namjoon laughs through the phone. “Mystery-neighbor-crush her, you mean?”
“Neighbor stuff, am I that annoying? Don't answer that. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you; just come in because I have to wash Bam.”
“All right, bro, give me twenty, and I’ll be there.”
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Jungkook is sitting across from Namjoon, who raises an eyebrow at him as he chews on his steak. “So she came in here,” he swallows his bite and continues, “was on that couch?” he signals with his chopsticks, “and she went home after that?”
Jungkook nods. The moment he’s been dreading: admitting he chickened out. He’s not proud of himself and debates whether to omit a few things.
“Yeah, what else could’ve happened?” He takes a drink of his water, avoiding Namjoon’s gaze.
“So many things, bro. But, the very least that should have happened is that you got her number or something like that. Did you ask?”
Jungkook is quiet. His cheeks are flushing with heat. He’s chuckling at himself, remembering how he clammed up around her.
“You just let her leave, right? She walked out, thanked you, and you probably made her a tea she didn't drink.” Namjoon is laughing when Jungkook groans and shakes a fist above his head. “Ah, Jungkook!”
“I know!” Jungkook shakes his head. “But I got a name. I got a name; that’s something, isn't it?”
“Well?”
“It’s Rei. I don’t know where she’s from and all that, but that name just suits her, doesn't it?”
“It does, it does. But come on, bro! This girl lives so close!  For starters, she stuck around. She could've just left after explaining herself. Instead, she sat down right where you’re sitting and stayed .” Namjoon feeds himself rice as he shakes his head and continues while he chews, “She looked at you the last time we evacuated; I saw her. And how many times have you bumped into her already? She probably thinks you’re out to get her.”
“I know. I kept thinking the same. I thought: ‘She could've left by now, but she hasn’t. I don’t know, hyung, I just froze. I just kept nodding; it was so stupid.” Jungkook closes his eyes and places his fingertips over his eyelids, shaking his head in lament.
“Not stupid, bro,” Namjoon offers, swallowing his bite. “I’ve seen her around too, and she’s really pretty, but it’s a weird sensation when she’s nearby; it’s like her beauty is different. I don't mean it like I want her now, nothing like that, but it sort of feels like I am stuck too. Like, what can I say right now?”
Jungkook nods, understanding the sentiment. “It knocks the wind out of me sometimes when I see her,” he says, reaching for a napkin. “I wanted to say so much more, but I couldn't. It was different being close to her like we were. This girl is killing me, Namjoon-hyung. You said she looked at me?”
Namjoon smiles warmly. “She did, at the evacuation a week ago. Was it a week now?” He wipes at his mouth and looks at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook nods at him. “Well, a week ago, I went out last and caught her looking your way. She had her hand like this,” he brings his hand up to shield his eyes against nothing, “and she was smiling. She didn't see me noticing.”
Jungkook scoots closer. He rests his chin on Namjoon’s knee, looking straight at him until he’s cross-eyed. “At me?” he asks, loving that this happened.
Namjoon shakes his leg free and takes a sip of his water. “I think she likes you. She was looking at you the same way I’ve seen you look at her,” Namjoon reaches for his phone, checks a text, and continues, “so she would’ve been into you. Did she flirt with you?”
Jungkook mulls it over. He doesn't want to read too much into it, but he thinks she did flirt. “I could be wrong, and I’d hate to be wrong,” he says, “but I feel like she was into me, like, actually into me, and I thought about kissing her. Would that have been too forward?”
“Hmm,” Namjoon says as he chews his food. “Maybe. I have to see you two in action, to say. I think you can trust your gut, and if you felt that way, maybe she was giving you those vibes on purpose, you know? Sometimes girls are so forward that it's confusing. Like, ‘am I reading this wrong?’ When the whole time there was only one way to read it.” He gives his head a light shake.
“She was talkative like Yoongi predicted.”
“Oh, was she now?” Namjoon looks surprised. “I sided with Jimin when he said she seemed shy and kind of mean. Not mean, but you know the mean look girls have that makes them look kind of cool?”
Jungkook nods with a mouthful of steak.
“That’s actually interesting that she was talkative. That’s good. I think you’d do bad to get with a shy chick again.”
Jungkook once dated a girl in high school he didn't know how to talk to, and when he meant to break things off, he’d just ignored her for the entire year. She was too shy, too quiet, too reserved. He was everything else but.
“I agree with you on that,” Jungkook says honestly. “Back to Rei, she’s even prettier up close, hyung. I thought I was in a dream, that sounds so cheesy, but it’s true.”
“It was, what, four in the morning?”
“Three. Close to four.”
“Exactly. I would think that's a dream too. Seems like it. Are you sure you’re not messing with me?” Namjoon elbows Jungkook lightly.
“I want her. Is that so pathetic?”
“A little bit,” Namjoon teases, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to a slight pinch. “Like this tiny little space right here is where you live.”
Jungkook rolls his eyes as he walks into the kitchen for a beer.
“Honestly, Jungkook, I think she likes you back. Pass me the rice. Want some of the steaks?” He shows Jungkook his bowl, and Jungkook accepts, opening his mouth to be fed. “You can feed yourself.”
“Ah,” Jungkook says, mouth agape. “Just one piece.”
Namjoon is feeding Jungkook rice when the doorbell rings. The two exchange bewildered looks, and Jungkook shuffles from the ground, sliding on the flooring with his socks as he peers through the peephole. He falls to the ground as if shot, crouching with a deathly look about him.
Namjoon shifts in his seat on the floor and, stretching his neck, asks Jungkook who it is. Over and over, quietly, he’s asking who’s at the door.
Jungkook doesn't answer until Namjoon stands. He shoots a hand up to grab Namjoon’s sleeve, motioning him to crouch beside him. Whispering, he says, “It’s Rei; what do I do?”
“Get up!”
“I can't. I can't. I don't know what she wants. What if she knows?”
“Knows what? Get up; I’m opening the door in 3, 2,...”
Jungkook stands. He can feel his heart beating viciously, and his hands are sweating. He glares at Namjoon, raising his hand and motioning for a cutthroat. “I’ll kill you,” he mouths as his friend walks away.
Jungkook peers into the peephole and sees her turning away. He pulls back the door quickly, causing her to turn around. She smiles, and he wants her all over again. His relaxed demeanor vanished. “Hey, what’s going on?” are his first words.
Rei laughs, and he can feel himself blushing. He drops his head when he remembers Namjoon is a witness.
“Hey, neighbor,” she says, smiling the same coy smile she lent him last night. She pulls a paper from her pocket, extends it to him, and says, “It’s an invite to my birthday party this weekend; if you don't have any plans, I thought it would be nice to hang out and see you again. I’ll have friends over, and of course, you can bring yours.”
A party? Wait, see me again?? “I will be there. This weekend. I’ll make an appearance.” He stops talking when she laughs. He can feel the blood boiling on his face. What the hell is going on with him? “Sorry, yes, I mean, thank you.” Jungkook can feel Namjoon’s burning gaze behind him—he can picture how his friend stifles a laugh into his fist.
“No problem. Who’s that?” She points inside the apartment.
Namjoon waves when Jungkook turns around to see him standing behind him, a smirk tugging at his lips. Jungkook widens his eyes at him, mouthing for him to stop laughing. Stepping aside for his friend’s introduction, Jungkook signals toward his friend with a swift movement of his hand. “Namjoon, this is Rei. Rei, this is Namjoon, a good friend and gifter of bonsai trees.”
“I’ve seen you, no?” she talks to Namjoon, who nods, flexing his pointer finger, indicating that she has. He’s chewing cheese puffs, and Jungkook raises an eyebrow at him, silently questioning him: ‘Where did you get those?’ His stare says.
“At the evacuation, I was there.”
“Ah, yes, you had bright green hair like a highlighter pen then.”
He laughs. “That was me, yeah! You were with that girl, the…one with the red hair in pigtails.”
“Ah. That’s right! You have a good memory.” She sounds impressed.
Jungkook tongues his cheek, shaking his head beside them unnoticed.
“You too, you too. Cheese puff?” Namjoon offers a bag of cheese puffs.
“You’re tempting me, but I will have to decline. I just had lunch.”
“Your friend, the one with the pigtails, will she be at this party?”
Namjoon is nervous, but he plays it off well. Only Jungkook can tell.
“I think she can be there,” Rei replies, her eyes shifty and full lips pursing. She seems to think it over, anxiously looking at Jungkook and chewing on her lower lip. It’s as though she’s waiting for Jungkook to glance her way. Only Namjoon is seeing this.
Jungkook is annoyed. They’re talking so easily. He shifts uncomfortably, his fingers gripping the door. He watches how Namjoon chuckles and how she timidly looks down at her hands. The glittery nail polish made his heart feel like a stone in his chest. He wants to interject. But how?
“I’m sure the guys will be free this weekend too; we might celebrate our little accomplishment here sometime soon, so Jungkook can tell you about that and invite you when the time comes, right, Jungkook?”
Jungkook only nods. That’s all he seems to be capable of when she’s around. He feels so strange around her. He feels the same way each time, like he’s coming down with something suddenly. Didn’t it just get so hot out here with the door open like this? He wonders. Is anyone else sweating?
Their voices continue around him. He nods a few times when the conversation shifts toward him, but he feels lightheaded. He wants her so badly.
He doesn’t mean to, but he clears his throat, turning the conversation around him to a simmer.
“So, Jungkook, Namjoon told me he’d come this weekend and bring your other friends. There’s a theme, by the way.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s fairytale-themed!” She raises her arms above her head like a big reveal and holds her pose, awaiting their reaction.
Namjoon laughs, turning away; he says: “I’ll give it good thought! Thank you for the invite, Rei!”
“And you?” She looks at Jungkook.
“Me?” Jungkook swallows hard at a lump in his throat. His brain seems to forget how to form sentences when she’s around.
“Yes, you. Do you have any ideas, JK?” she smiles, lopsided.
Is she flirting with me? Here? Namjoon-hyung! Come back!
“I have to rewatch all of my favorite fairytale movies to have an idea,” he says, bringing a hand to his head. He feels the heat emitting from his forehead. “I’m kidding. I think something cool like Dracula.”
“Is that a fairytale?” She laughs.
“Define a fairytale. Isn’t it just make-believe?”
“You don’t think vampires are real?” She raises an eyebrow at him, but he can tell she’s intentionally giving him a hard time. Her smile is surfacing and betraying her.
“I do, actually. Ah, okay. Give me time. I’ll think of something. What about you? Who are you going as?”
She pretends to think it over even though she already has an idea. “I won’t say; you’ll have to see.”
He’s fully leaning against the doorframe, his foot slipping under him, and he almost falls over. He mutters something to himself, and she’s biting back a laugh. “You want tea or something before you go? If you’re not busy.”
“Ah, I want to say yes, but my friends are upstairs; I just stopped by real quick but thank you.”
He nods. “That’s okay, next time.”
“I’ll catch you two later,” she says, waving.
She turns to walk away, and Jungkook doesn't know what takes over him, but he shouts after her: “Thank you!”
He’s too embarrassed to see if she turns around. He closes the door immediately.
He doesn't even want to look at Namjoon. He stands facing the door for a while, his head hanging low, eyebrows scrunched up in physical anguish. He chews his lip and winces at himself, remembering.
“I said that out loud,” Jungkook says, incredulous with himself.
“You said that out loud,” Namjoon reiterates from somewhere in the room.
Sighing, Jungkook turns over, and flinches at a grape Namjoon tosses at him. His nose scrunching, he catches another grape mid-air and chews noisily. “She wants to know me properly,” he says, with a dreamy air.
“So be her prince charming,” Namjoon jokes, plopping down on his couch, busy on his phone.
“So I will be,” Jungkook says, tilting his head back to look up at his ceiling. She’s up there, walking around, talking to her friends, and he’s beneath her, dreaming of the weekend. “What day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
“Let’s go; I need an outfit.”
“Now?”
“Now, get up! Get up!”
“Let me finish my grapes; I just washed them,” Namjoon whines, still not glancing from his phone’s screen.
“Okay, but after, we’ll go.” Jungkook walks into his room, grabs his glasses, and steps back out.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Jungkook nods, biting the corner of his lip distractedly. “Oh, I’m serious.” He reaches for the car keys on the table beside him. “I’ve never been more serious.”
And he is. He’s never been more serious about anything else. He wants Rei, but he wants her to want him, too. He can’t help but feel as though his luck is turning out.
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taglist: @vsualitae​
A/N: thank you for being here! I hope those that looked forward to the full first chapter have enjoyed this! It's my first lengthy fic, as I've already stated, so any feedback is greatly appreciated! reblogs, comments, and anything that lets me know you've enjoyed this will make me the happiest writer :') I appreciate you for giving my work a shot <3 Let me know if you'd like a second part, what you liked, etc. I'd love to hear from you, reader >.< until next time!!
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dilutedconfusion · 1 month
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Lost Star
Eustass Kid x F!Reader (Part 1) Real World AU
OH and this is going to be angsty. Angsty with a sprinkle of stupid dialogue if you will.
Summary: You and Kid are long time best friends but you just so happen to find yourself in a risky situation, curtesy of your bladder and too much alcohol. Most of this story takes place over a phone call between you and Kid. One where one of you is crying, until both of you are crying. Enjoy <3
Warnings: None I think??
Word Count: 3.5k
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On a late Wednesday night, Kid didn’t expect to be getting so many calls. By the blaring white lines cast in a blurry glow, he managed to make out the number 12:22 am on his alarm clock. The insistent buzzing of his phone against his nightstand nearly making him want to tear it apart with his teeth.
What does a guy have to do to get a little fucking sleep around here?
He could nearly feel the weight of his eye bags tugging on his pale skin. The warm embrace of his bed feeling more and more like a tomb he’d be comfortable dying in.
But of course, once the ringing had stopped once, which earned Kid a hearty yawn and the closing of his eyes, it started up again. That same persistent buzzing was rumbling against the wood. It felt so invasive Kid nearly thought a swarm of bees had crawled into his ears. Nesting for the night or maybe having some kind of buzz off where one had to be louder than all the rest. But if this was a buzz off he knew his phone would win by a landslide.
Using his forearms he bent them to prop up his bare chest off the soft bed. Not willing to fully sit up he just slapped his hand against the nightstand in a lazy attempt to pick up his phone. But instead of picking it up he knocked it right off the table, the small rectangle of light falling to its doom and crashing against the wooden floor.
“Goddamn it,” Kid mumbled under his breath, brushing his tossed hair out of his eyes and sliding closer to the edge of the bed. The phone was still ringing. Now buzzing loudly against the floor and most certainly pissing off his neighbors below. He managed to lean off the bed just a bit, his long arms coming in handy to scoop it off the floor.
Rolling onto his back with a content sigh he stared at that small rectangle of light that had thankfully stopped buzzing. He read the caller's name in his notifications with little tears of exhaustion naturally pricking the corners of his eyes.
“Y/N?” He mumbled out to himself, his frown of annoyance now turning into one of mild confusion. You were known to blast his phone with multiple calls at a time. You had done it when you swear you saw a dog that looked just like Kid and to Kid's utter dismay, it did indeed not look like him cause that dog was fucking ugly. You had done it when your car broke down nearly a thousand times. Using your ‘my friend is a mechanic’ card to get his free help. You had done it on nearly every holiday that you weren’t together and though he feigned annoyance on those calls, he secretly liked it.
So basically without a doubt, you would weasel your way into finding any excuse to call him. Kid didn’t think that this night would be any different though he made it very clear he wouldn’t answer late-night calls. He wasn’t about to give up his precious sleep to hear your languorous ass talk about the meaning of life or what kind of cheesecake you would be if you were a cheesecake.
But still, he opened up his phone to check if you had texted him, which of course you didn’t. Scrolling through his notifications he noticed 15 unanswered phone calls from you in the last 20 minutes.
Eyes widening in a mix of shock but mostly annoyance he spoke, “What the hell is this woman thinking??” He looked over each call, they seemed back to back from what he could tell which only ticked him off further. But before he could even think it through you called him yet again, his phone vibrating loudly on the soft metal of his prosthetic.
He didn’t want to talk to you. Hell, he was about to put his phone on sleep mode and roll over without a thought. But it was the fact that you’ve never called him this fervently before that made him hesitate. You usually just quit around 4 unanswered phone calls. But this time was different which meant either you were drunk or something bad was happening.
So with a half-asleep limb, he clicked the answer on his phone. Putting it up to his ear as he let his back sink deeper into the mattress below him. “What do you want?” Was the first thing he said without hesitation. His voice much lower and more gravelly than usual due to the late hours.
Though of course, he didn’t hear your voice respond on the other end. Instead, he just heard what he could only assume was a light wind breezing against the microphone and the sounds of footsteps thudding softly in the background.
Did she buttdial me? Was the first thought that rang through his mind but it couldn’t be. You called him consistently for the last 20 minutes. You just hadn’t noticed he answered.
So he spoke again, using a bit more effort so you would hear him. “Do you not hear me? Put the phone to your ear dumbass.”
Kid immediately heard a light yelp come from the other end, followed by a pausing of footsteps before your haphazard ass finally spoke through the phone. “Kid?”
“Who the fuck else would it be? You’re the one who called me bolts for brains.” Kid grumbled, rubbing his hand along his face to try and wake himself up just a bit more.
“Ah…um yeah yeah I umm called you.” Kid noticed right away your voice sounded a bit more slurred than usual. Like you had a gobstopper in your mouth preventing you from saying something coherent. He squinted his eyes as he stared at the ceiling, trying to piece together what the hell was going on.
“Are you drunk and calling me late at night? What the hell Y/N?” He didn’t feel like he needed to be mean. But if you were seriously about to say you spam-called him for the last 20 minutes because you were bored and drunk he was going to throw his phone across the room.
It took you a second to reply and he could hear the way your breath hitched at that question. “Ah umm maybe. I don’t know Kid, it's just that something spooky is happening and I’m scared and I’m cold and I missed you.” Again you sounded like your brain was hollow at the moment. Though your words made Kid slightly concerned hearing the whole ‘I’m scared and cold’ bit.
“I swear are you fucking with me right now? What do you mean you’re scared and cold?” Kid was about to roll his eyes hard if you complained about something stupid. You being drunk wasn’t something he saw often especially considering how shitfaced you sounded. But his sass was palpable at this point despite all the flashing red signs that should be telling him something was wrong.
“I don’t know. Ask the forest. Who knows why these things are always so cold and spooky? It’s just like…natural law or whatever.” And with that, Kid paused.
The forest? What the hell does this girl mean by ‘the forest’?
“Is the forest a euphemism for something? What are you, sitting on your bathroom floor complaining about how cold it is?” He was trying to piece together a scene in his mind. One where you were bored and drunk for whatever reason so you called him in your bathroom. Hopefully, you weren’t drunk because you were depressed over something stupid again. But by the soft sound of your voice, you sounded more scared than sad.
“I wish the forest was a bathroom. I just peed by a tree and a little bit of it got on my pants. That…doesn’t make me a piss baby does it?”
Kid's face contorted into a mixture of disgust and complete confusion. It woke him up a bit more to his annoyance but it couldn’t be helped. What you had said was just too much for him to even remotely understand. But what worried him more was the fact that you weren’t giving up this whole ‘I’m in a forest’ joke.
“Y/N…where are you right now?” Kid's voice dipped into something more serious. His lower register rumbled in his chest as he nearly growled out that answer.
“The forest. Have you not been listening to me? I peed on my pants and I’m cold and I’m scared so I called you.” You sounded like you thought he was stupid. Like it couldn’t be more apparent where you were and Kid was just letting the facts fly right by him.
But as he pieced together not only what you said but the sounds coming through his phone it slowly started to make sense. The howling wind hitting the mic. Your footsteps sound a bit crunchy as if you were walking on grass. He could even make faint creaking sounds and even a few birds in the air around you. Chirping in the late hours of the night as the rest of the predators came alive.
“Y/N…please don’t tell me you’re actually in a forest right now.” Kid didn’t want to believe it. Because if this was a prank then it was a mean one. He couldn’t believe he missed all those background sounds earlier. Him and his tired brain lacked all the sense of keenness it usually held.
“Yes, I’m in a forest dummy.” That made his stomach sink fast like a pound of lead that somehow slid down his esophagus and gut-punched him from the inside. He sat up in his bed immediately, his spine cracking loudly and his vision blurring around the edges.
“Why are you in a forest? Actually, why the fuck didn’t you tell me sooner?! You’ve been talking out of your ass this whole time!” He yelled at you, his voice raising drastically in concern. “It’s midnight you dumb fuck. Why in the world are you out there?”
“Gosh Kid don’t yell at me! I just needed to tinkle and this was the only place.” Your voice went an octave higher and became increasingly whiny as you spoke. Kid nearly wanted to crawl through the phone and wring your neck.
“The only place you could pee was a forest? Have you never heard of a bathroom fuck-nut?! Why the hell are you in a forest in the first place?” Kids anger was making him get ahead of himself. Each word that left your slurred and intoxicated lips was not what he wanted to hear.
This is why I hate it when she gets drunk. She gets stupid and makes me clean up her mess.
“Fuck-nut? What kind of insult is that? I’m not a fuck-nut.” Your voice became more strained as you spoke. It sounded like you were on the verge of tears. Though the reception for some reason was getting more and more hazy as the call went on so Kid paid no mind.
“Y/N!” Kid was nearly gripping his sheets out of pure anger from this conversation. He shouldn’t be yelling this late at night, he knew that. But his stupid best friend was becoming more stupid by the second.
You took a second to respond. Leaving Kid to just listen to your soft sniffles on the other side. It made his muscles freeze in realization.
I’m screaming at a drunken and vulnerable Y/N right now. What the fuck Kid?
“Don’t yell at me. I-I’m already scared as it is. I just wanted to call you 'cause I didn’t know anybody else that could h-help me.” Your voice sounded so frail. Kid could nearly see your tear-stained face painted on the blank wall across from his bed. It made his heart lurch in the cage of his chest.
“I…I won’t do it again. Just tell me what’s going on. No more deflecting or talking about something else. I need to know why you are in the woods this late at night.” Kid used the most reassuring voice he could muster up. He’s dealt with your crying self a couple of times. Like when that guy who in Kid's opinion was a complete waste of space rejected you. Or when one of your relatives died a few years back. He had been there to awkwardly try and pick up the fragile pieces of your heart. So he could only hope he could use that learned sympathy now.
“I was…at this party. It this whole bonfire next to the lake thing. There was like…a lot of booze and it tasted really good. Like really really good Kid, it had lemonade and sliced fruit in it. Oh, and they had these speakers strapped into some guys' truck bed. I was twerkin' up a storm ya shoulda seen it.” Your voice still sounded sad and strained as you spoke. As if you were emotional about how ‘awesome’ this party was to the point of tears.
Kid's hand instantly smacked against his forehead. Rubbing his face and stretching the deep lines of his eyes bags and permanently frowning corners of his lips. Forcing himself to just groan and hold back all the fiery frustration lumped in the back of his throat.
God, how much did she drink? She’s usually never this emotional. Or this stupid.
“Y/N quit talking about the booze and the party. I get it. It was good. Tell me why you called me. Like exactly how you ended up in this forest alone. And try to calm down a little. I can’t handle the crying.” Kid couldn’t help but sternly push you off the topic of the party because if he heard you talk about twerking one more time something in his brain would short-circuit.
You sniffled softly into the mic once more as if you were swallowing down a well of tears. “O-Okay…I can calm down. The party ended a little while ago. People started packing up and driving home for the night. I called an Uber because ya know…alcohol. There’s a main road close by so I just needed to walk down this trail to catch my ride. But I needed to piss like SOOOO BAD. I was seconds away from shooting a piss rocket down my legs from how bad it was. So I went off the trail a good bit. Ya know, so nobody would see my lady bits. But I think I got like…turned around on the way back to the trail.”
The whole time you were talking Kid could nearly feel his blood pressure rising. A cold chill ran across his spine as his body twitched and went rigid. It was like he was hearing the most idiotic yet horrific joke in the world. But the problem right now was that it wasn’t a joke and it was happening to you of all people.
Oh no.
“Y/N…how long have you been walking around aimlessly?” Kid almost didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to know because if you said what he was thinking, then there was a high probability you were dead lost.
“Ummm…I think about 30 minutes? I don’t know exactly when I left to go piss but it's around that amount of time. Plus I fell over a stupid log and got a boo-boo on my leg.” Your voice sounded so ignorant as you said that. As if you didn’t realize how bad your situation was. Kid couldn’t even respond right away. He was too lost in the questions of how the hell you were going to get out of this mess.
“Kid…you there? I…uhh have a backpack. I brought water and a flashlight. Plus I’m wearing that jacket. Ya know the one you bought me for my birthday with the little skull on the sleeve? It’s my favorite.” Kid felt his heart sink once more.
She’s wearing that jacket? While lost in the woods?
“I didn’t buy you that jacket just so you could get lost in the woods with it you asshole.” Kids voice became void of all frustration. Just grumbling and low as he contemplated his life for a moment. “Did you try yelling so someone could come find you? Maybe shine your flashlight through the trees?”
“Yeah, but I think everyone already left.”
Well, shit.
And with that Kid started to get up from his bed. Letting his wide feet land on the cold wooden floor below him he turned on his bedside lamp and started making his way towards his closet. Letting the closet door softly swing open before he quickly put the call on speaker mode.
“Kid…what are you doing?” Your quiet voice floated up to him. He set the phone down on a shelf in his closet before yanking out a gray hoodie and some black sweatpants to cover up his mostly naked body.
“Coming to get you. Now find a place to sit and stay there. No more walking. You’re getting yourself more lost the more you walk around.” He grumbled out, shoving his leg through one of the pant holes. He could feel the ghostly chill of goosebumps crawling all over his skin. As if bugs or the cold hands of ghosts were tracing the lines of his scars. And even though he was hating every second of this, he supposed you were hating it a lot more.
Though with the amount of jokes she’s making maybe not so much. But she always makes jokes at the worst of times.
“But shouldn’t we call the authorities? Or maybe even Killer? I just called you cause…I missed you but you don’t have to do this alone Kid.”
There was a softness in your voice that dragged his attention away by its heels. He paused in his closet. Frozen still for just a moment like a statue of disarray. “No. Just me. No cops. I don’t need them seeing my face and I don’t need their half-assed help. Plus Killer works early shifts, I ain’t dragging him to help me on this one. So quit questioning my abilities and let me help you.”
His voice was so stern you could’ve sworn the foundation he built those words upon was made out of solid gold. There was no changing his mind on this one. No matter how much you tried to erode his logic with your tears of worry. So you just feigned a smile that no one could see and spoke, “Okay. I trust you, Kid. Always have, always will.”
Kid could feel those words echoing in the caverns of his mind. As if they were being written on his flesh itself. But he paid no mind or at least that’s what he wanted to believe. He had more important things to do such as saving your helpless ass.
You looked around at the forest engulfing you. It was thick in all directions. No tower, mountain, or really anything to give you a point of reference to where you are. The little flashlight you brought was doing an unsurprisingly half-assed job. The dark was almost too dark. The moon barely peeking through the tops of the trees leaving you amiss in a world of darkness seemingly built for your own demise. The wind was howling and you could catch the far-out hoo of an owl doing little to subside your fear. Though everything was green and lush so it looked soft enough sit down on.
“Okay…I’ll sit down. I’m ummm…by Lake Folsum. Ya know the one off the highway going towards the South? There’s a little dirt road you can take but it cuts off to that trail I was talking about. I gotta be somewhere around there.” You mumble, taking small steps forward and looking at a rather tall oak tree in front of you. You leaned over and felt the dirt, trying to make sure it wasn’t too wet before settling down on it and leaning your back against the tree.
”Alright. It’ll probably take me 40 minutes to get there. 30 if I break a couple of laws. Just wait for me okay?” You could hear Kid shuffling around on the other end. His breath hitting the mic and floating into your ears. You heard the faint jangling of what you assumed was him picking up his keys. Followed by the door of his apartment opening and closing with a subtle lock.
“You’re not gonna hang up on me right? Don’t leave me alone out here Kid. I need you.”
Kid let out a little grunt at that. Your voice sounded so delicate it made his throat tighten. Both of you have been friends forever but if anything insults were more regular then whatever the hell you were doing right now. It made him feel weird. All this ‘I need you, I missed you’ bullshit sounding so strange coming out of your mouth. But he wanted to believe it was the just the alcohol talking. That you were scared and had called the first person you could think of which was him. He wasn’t special by any means and he didn’t expect you to ever rely on him like this. But here he was, about to come to your rescue and he was going to do it all by himself. To try and be the strong reliable friend he wishes he was. He just couldn’t let another person down.
So he picked up his pace just a bit. Forcing himself to go down the stairs two steps at a time to make it to the parking garage. His mind a brewing storm of worry and fear though he would never say it out loud.
It's up to me to help her. I can’t break. Not right now.
“I would never leave you. Don’t ever assume that.”
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A/N: I already said this shit was going to be angsty…which can lead you to assume a lot of things. So uhhh yeah be prepared for that cause I already have a mild outline of what this story is going to be and just thinking about it makes me sad. But I’m VERY excited for said sad so it’s okay. When the time comes we can cry together in the comments <3
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sukifoof · 9 months
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okay i have been thinking about this for a while i am finally going to talk about it. every single time i play undertale i see this and go "oh flowey everything is wrong with u <3" cuz this is yet another case of his projection. he LOVES to project and i think a lot about how he so firmly believes everything is his fault-- whether that's chara's death or his parents grieving or literally anything else. and i think a lot of it is part of how much he cares about everyone... he's convinced that if only he had done everything right then everything would be fine.
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he believes either the fault lies in him doing something wrong, or life is just "unfair". he even says in this exact scene that if only "you" had gone through without caring about anyone, you wouldn't have to feel this way now. if only he hadn't made chara care about him, if only he hadn't cared about chara. if only his parents didn't love him so much, they wouldn't have to feel this way now. so he subconsciously tries to get around this by convincing himself he doesn't care and can't care about anyone, despite that clearly not being true, given the alarm clock dialogue.
and in a similar way, as toriel is always a parallel for flowey, toriel attempts to do this by telling frisk not to come back. flowey and toriel don't really... deal with their emotions, they just shove them down and avoid it as best as they can. it's really interesting to see flowey's thoughts on toriel too; flowey doesn't understand why she keeps caring for humans when she keeps losing them. if she just didn't care then she wouldn't be feeling the way she does, right? toriel and flowey both innately want to take care of those around them and feel this great responsibility when things go wrong.
so he tells us it's all our fault for loving our friends. "being nice just makes you get hurt," as he says in the neutral end. so much of his mindset is rooted in how much he cares about his family, to the point where he seems to feel if only he didn't care it wouldn't hurt as much. something something opposite of it's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. learning to love again and accept loss is such an important part of his character because of how his bereaved mindset left him feeling numb and resentful. the fact that he's able to say he's friends with frisk and that he's still tries to take care of toriel says sooo much about how much he's grown and it makes me wanna cry i love flowey so much he is the best character in anything <3
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babydollmarauders · 7 months
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LAST KISS — NICO HISCHIER
nico hischier x fem!reader
part of the Speak Now Fic List
summary: in which y/n reminisces on she and Nico’s relationship and wonders how it all came to an end when she still loves him so much
notes: lots of flashbacks, not a lot of dialogue
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the carpeted floor does nothing to ease the numbness of my butt from sitting there for so long.
my back is pressed against the side of my bed, my head tilted back and my eyes glued to the ceiling, fighting back tears.
the alarm clock that sits on my nightstand, lights up the room; 1:58am displayed in bright red.
how is it that at this time, just three months ago, i was happy?
how is it that i remember that night so clearly?
*** 3 MONTHS AGO ***
my cheeks ache from smiling, my leg slung over my boyfriend’s as he holds me close. his arms are wrapped around my waist, one hand drawing shapes into my back.
our alarm clock reads 1:58am, but he only got back from his roadie about forty-five minutes ago.
“and then Dawson bet Jack fifty dollars that he could kick the ball into the rafters.” Nico whispers, his thick accent soothing my racing heart.
“did he?”
“no, he kicked it up high but it bounced off of one of the beams and ended up hitting him in the head.” i giggle, already imagining the scenario happening in my head. “i can laugh now, but i was worried he had a concussion.”
Nico joins me in laughter, tightening his grip on me. my hand lays flat across his chest, and i can feel his heartbeat pick up.
“i love you.” i whisper, craning my neck to nudge my nose against his.
“ich liebe dich mehr, schatzi.”
*** PRESENT ***
tears roll down my cheeks. my heart feels like it’s being torn, my chest constricting like someone is crumpling it like an old receipt.
how could he have told me he loved me, when he left so soon after?
how could he leave me so easily? like i was nothing to him.
why did he leave? i thought we were doing so well.
i thought the end of the hockey season would bring on new adventures, not the end of us.
now i’m left picking up the pieces of me that he carelessly threw down when he told me we were over. when he went back to Switzerland and told me not to bother visiting.
i thought we would have a repeat of last summer, the best summer i’ve ever had, but i guess that’s gone now.
*** JULY 9TH, 2022 ***
the plane bumps as it touches down, causing me to jolt in my seat.
eight hours on the plane, too excited and nervous to sleep a wink, and now i’m ready to be able to move and reunite with my boyfriend.
i sit idly in my seat, my carry-on backpack sitting in my lap, as i wait to be able to leave; and as soon as i can, i’m fast walking off the plane.
Nico said he would meet me at baggage claim, and with the unfamiliarity of a foreign airport, it takes me much longer than i had hoped to find baggage claim.
but as soon as i round the corner and spot my boyfriend, i take off running. my sneakers squeak against the tiled floors, and he looks up from his phone, quickly pocketing it and opening his arms to envelope me in a hug.
my head nestles on his chest, right against his pounding heart, and my arms wrap securely around his waist while his fold over my shoulders. i melt into his touch, savoring the feeling of being in his arms again. his heartbeat echoes through my ears, soothing me further.
“i missed you.” he mumbles into my hair, pressing his lips to my scalp.
“i missed you more.”
we stand there in silence, watching the bags go around the little carousel until mine finally comes into view. the black hard shell suitcase covered in stickers is hard to miss, and Nico finally lets me go in order to step forward and grab it for me.
“c’mon, i want you to meet my family.” his arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling me into his side as we exit the airport.
i can smell the rain that’s falling freshly on the pavement, taking in a deep breath, and Nico smiles down at me, his brows threaded together.
“i like the smell. it’s different here; smells cleaner.” he chuckles at my words, shaking his head. “or i’m just happier here, ‘cause i’m with you.”
his eyes scrunch as he grins widely, showing off his teeth.
“yeah, i’m happier with you too.”
*** PRESENT ***
i rock on the floor, tilting forward slightly with my legs criss-crossed. my arms are crossed over my chest in an ‘x’, my hands fisting the fabric of his forgotten soft black t-shirt that adorns my body.
the tears are falling harder now, my throat closing as my breaths catch, a broken sob of his name falling from my lips.
how could he do this to me?
i met his family.
he met mine. despite knowing how guarded i am with choosing who to introduce to them.
he convinced me we were forever.
*** MAY 2022 ***
“and you’re sure you’re okay with attending this?” i question for the millionth time, standing in front of the mirror as i put my earrings in.
“yes, schatzi. i’m sure.” Nico chuckles, wrapping his arms around my waist as he comes and stands behind me. “i want to meet your family. i want to meet the people who raised my beautiful, kindhearted girlfriend.”
i sigh, locking eyes with him in the mirror. a small smile dances upon my lips when he scrunches his nose at me through the reflection.
“i just don’t want them to scare you off.” i admit, my hands gently resting on his arms that encircle me. “they can be a lot, and ya know, they’re hockey fans so they’ll probably talk your ear off about this past season and i just- i love you, i don’t want them to run you away from me.”
Nico’s lips ghost against my neck, pressing featherlight kisses across my skin, before he rests his chin upon my shoulder. he looks at me softly in the mirror, but i avoid his gaze until he abruptly spins me around.
his hands cup my face, forcing me to look into his big brown eyes.
“they will not scare me off.” he assures me, leaning his forehead against mine. “i love you, and your family cannot change that. they can talk to me about hockey every time i see them for the rest of our lives, but they can’t run me off.”
for the rest of our lives.
“i love you so much.” i lean forward, standing on my tiptoes to lay a kiss on his lips.
my nerves are eased for most of the time until the reception. we arrive to my cousin, Lindsay’s wedding just before the ceremony begins, effectively avoiding my parents meeting Nico.
but once the reception begins, there’s no evading it any longer. my body tenses as my father walks over to Nico and i’s table.
“little bird!” my face flushes at the childhood nickname, allowing my father to wrap me up in a hug, my mother quickly taking his place once we part.
my dad’s eyes stray over to my boyfriend, widening slightly but keeping his cool. “and who’s this, little bird?”
“mom, dad; this is my boyfriend, Nico.” i introduce, watching with baited breath as my father shakes Nico’s hand.
“nice, firm grip ya got there, Nico.” my dad nods approvingly, “say, ya play hockey? ya look familiar.”
my mother and i share a glance at his unsubtle way of questioning, but whereas she wears a smile, my face is one of fear. but my fear melts away when my boyfriend just laughs.
“i’m just messing with you.” my dad slaps Nico on the back. “i’m a Devils fan, born and raised.”
he continues talking, but i can no longer hear their conversation as they walk away towards the open bar.
“i’d say that went well.” my mom sighs, turning back towards me. “what do you say we get some champagne. you look like you need it.”
it’s not even an hour later that Nico has become the life of the party. my rowdy, hockey invested family have all flocked to him. even Lindsay and her now husband, the one’s this day is supposed to be about, are stood around our table, listening intently to what my boyfriend has to say about playing in the NHL.
i’m stood beside Nico, as we had given up our seats to my younger cousins, just waiting for them all to stop questioning him.
“hey Nico, what’s it like being captain?” my little cousin asks, and i can’t help but roll my eyes as my boyfriend answers him. Nico catches my eye, smiling down at me and pulling me close into his side.
“i love it. it’s hard, you have to answer questions from interviewers after hard losses, but it can also be very fun. it’s very rewarding.” he explains.
i let out a sigh, my mood severely deflating, until Nico speaks up again.
“if you guys will excuse me, i wanna have a dance with my girlfriend before the night ends.” he winks at the table full of my family members before leading me to the dance floor.
he snakes his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him as my arms lock around his neck, resting on his shoulders.
“i like your family.” he tells me.
“you do?”
he nods, beginning to sway us side to side. “yeah, they’re nice, and passionate about hockey. i see where you get it from now.”
i chuckle, nodding along. “that would be my dad’s doing.”
he laughs, as i close my eyes and lay my head upon his chest.
though i’m not usually one for dancing in public, i do it with him.
for him.
*** PRESENT ***
my heart aches, and in my mind, i beg for him to come home.
to tell me he was just joking.
that he loves me and still wants to spend the rest of our lives together.
i beg for him to come waltzing back towards me after a game, his hands in his pockets as he grins at me leaning against his car.
i beg for him to come back and spend another night listening to me rant, until he finally decides he’s had enough of my unimportant rambles and shuts me up with a kiss.
my phone dings upon my nightstand, right next to the alarm clock that now reads 2:34am, and i scramble for it, in hopes that it’s him.
and in a way, it is. an instagram notification is displayed across my screen, letting me know that Nico has posted a new post.
i click into it, ignoring the tears that now splatter upon my screen as i see how happy he looks.
how happy he looks without me.
i scroll through the photo carousel, staring at photos of Nico and his brother and sister, a wide smile on his face. a photo of him in front of a scenic mountain, his teeth shown off in a grin. a photo of him swimming.
i have to wonder how it got to this point.
how i went from waking up before the sun did, watching him sleep peacefully beside me; to watching his life in pictures. being delegated to asking our mutual friends how he is, because i can no longer just text him to ask.
how i went from laying almost entirely on top of him, feeling his chest rise and fall with his deep breaths; to feeling forgotten in his life. like the two years we were together meant nothing to him.
it’s as if i can feel myself being erased from his life; from his mind.
but the worst part of that i can’t hate him. i love him too much to hold any hate in my heart for him.
rather than wishing the worst upon him, i only hope that he has a wonderful life.
and that maybe, on a beautiful day, he’ll see something so small, so minuscule, like the sun shining through the clouds, or a pink sunset, which he knows i love so much, and that it’ll remind him of me. that he’ll realize how good i was to him. that he’ll regret leaving. that he’ll wish he had stayed with me.
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