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pfffsfic · 11 months ago

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Post-Fall Falls False Starts- Chapter 15: The Possibilities

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"Our sleep schedule is kinda messed up, if you think about it. You've been conking out constantly. But one time I spent 5 hours working on a rarepair doujin for this event thing, even though it was a school night, so is it really that messed up? Ehehe!"

Rob was unconscious and unresponsive. His chest rose and fell gently; he was alive, and that made him a good enough conversation partner for Sarah.

"No way am I getting the money by tonight! When he comes back, I'm gonna try to cut him a deal. And then I'm gonna try and get us a job! I have this whole plan, but I don't know if you can hear me, so I won't waste my breath. Aaah! I'm so excited!"

She squished her cheeks.

"I can't wait for you to tell me more about the whole time loop thing when you wake up, because if it's real, I am gonna milk it, you have no idea. I have so many things I want to try! Like- let me tell you about all my plans. And- and- I also have plans for if the time loop thing isn't real, because of course I do, you know? I'm the obsessive one! Not to toot my own horn."

"…and none of it makes ANY sense! Does any of it make any sense to any of you? Not a rhetorical question, guys, I want to see hands up. Raise your hands if this makes any sense to you, and those of you with no hands, raise… something, whatever, just raise something. Nobody? That's what I thought. And that's what drives me so mad about it! Beliiiiieve me, I like nonsensical stuff as much as the next guy, but ∆⎔▰▰⊜!"

A few vacant stares were directed at Bill- and the majority of them were coming from Amorphous Shape's many eyes. Many more vacant stares were directed elsewhere.

"Not to question you, man, but you said a few hours ago that you'd never bring them up again after you finished talking," offered Kryptos.

"Hey, smart guy, did it ever occur to you that I'm NOT DONE TALKING?"

There was no verbal response. In fact, the room was silent, and nothing was ever silent around here. The next noise anyone heard was Bill resuming his rant.

"The $% ! audacity of them! I know what you're thinking- how am I letting them get to me? And the answer is, I am not! They aren't getting to me, okay? So don't say they are! I know nobody said anything, but you were all thinking it, and I can say that even without reading your minds. They aren't getting to me, which is exactly why I have to make that perfectly clear. So let me go over the situation again from the top…"

"Order of business one: I want to see if we can get jobs at the Mystery Shack. As exhibits, I mean. But wait, you ask!"

Rob didn't ask anything, mostly because he was asleep.

"Doesn't us being bona-fide supernatural creatures make that impossible since, according to the show, people here only like fake stuff? Well, it does, until you remember that hiring us would also be child labor, so it cancels out and makes it likely to work. Basic narrative math. And if that fails I can superglue a zipper onto your back so you look like a guy in a suit."

She prepared for a rebuttal along the lines of, 'why not superglue a zipper onto your own back if you want to do this so bad?' but none came. Silly me, she thought.

"…And if that fails we can find jobs on Craigslist."

The twenty-cutout threshold had been reduced to 10 after a week, then 5, and then two- and it had just been, in a moment of hopelessness and frustration, reduced to one. Gumball had failed a dozen times in a row to get that one successful hit.

"I'm lowering it to zero," deadpanned Nicole.

"No! No, I can do this."

"Sweetie, if you've made one thing clear, it's that you can't do this."

"Shut up and let me make you proud of meee!"

With sloppy form, he took down one of the cutouts, which had already faced a hundred different beatings at the hands of the other members of the family. Tensions were at an all-time high, and the family owed that partially to the fact that, at lunchtime in a few hours, they would be forced to share the final remaining can of baked beans in the pantry. It was expired (and has been since 2003), mostly because none of them liked baked beans very much, but the only other food in the house was a fruitcake so stale that a fork had turned to dust against it days earlier.

"Cardboard cutouts are really nothing like the real thing, anyways. If we want to survive out there we have to get some practical practice! Isn't that right, everyone?"

There was mass nodding.

"Then it's settled! 4 to 1! We're going to the surface. Get your bats- things are about to get messy."

For the first time since the void swept in and claimed their surroundings, the Wattersons' basement door slowly creaked open.

"Do you think you would have a shot with anybody here, Rob? I mean romantically. If you think about it, this whole thing is like a self-insert story, only instead of stand-in characters who are like the us we wish we could be, it's just us! Isn't this crazy? I mean, if you really think about it?"

She gently lifted his chin and opened and closed his jaw, and thankfully he was too far gone to wake up and protest. "Why dontcha try 'n romance one of the locals if yer so passionate about it, huh?" she spoke as him, adding an accent by accident that he didn't have.

"Oh, you know I have a reservation back home," she said as herself. "Besides! I've been expanding my horizons. Why include myself in all my ships when other people have so much chemistry with each other? Like- imagine this. Are you imagining it? I know you are."

Rob was in a dreamless sleep.

"If you cleaned up a bit you could have a chance with Mabel I think. But that's kind of easy pickings, right? And besides, your personalities, I dunno. I think it'd have to be a slow burn, which is not her style. You know, I thought what might be fun is you and Dipper. Hear me out, okay? He's into the supernatural. But not like that, you say? Well, that's where we sort of have to stretch our interpretation. You two are the same age, you're cool and confident… uh, sometimes, and you're also totally freaky looking, no offense. He'd be all over the chance to study you… maybe. We'd have to set things up, but I think I could totally do that. I'm an expert matchmaker, by which I mean I make imaginary matches between my friends and acquaintances! How much harder could it be to do in real life? Or, I guess this isn't really real life, huh? All the better."

The artist's rendition of the suspect on the wanted poster looked as if it had been drawn in crayon by a 7-year-old. Dipper turned it around, held it at arm's length, pored over it for a few long moments, and then set it down and put one tense hand on his forehead. And then picked it up and started the whole process over again.

"Find any new details, Dip-dop? You've been looking at that thing for like an hour."

He made a small noise of surprise and set down the poster on the table.

"Take a look at this." He pointed to the face of the drawing. "They forgot to add one of his eyes. That's gotta mean something, right?"

"Maaaybe he only has one eye. And he's coming for yours! Rob, the master eye thief!"

"Don't joke about that! What if you jinx it into being the truth?"

"We can just give him one of those eyeball jawbreakers in the jar on the counter, and everybody will be happy."

"Jawbreakers? I always figured those were real eyeballs."

"Well, even better!"

He folded up the paper as if to put it away, then, as if driven by instinct, opened it up again and continued to look it over.

"Do you think he became a robber because his name is Rob, or that he goes by Rob because he's a robber?" Dipper asked, looking down at the perp's name as if to somehow glean new information from it.

"Do you think Robbie is gonna get angry about his position as the town's most important Robert-adjacent dude being stolen? Heh, stolen."

"…What do you think about going on a manhunt? Or a cyclopshunt?"

"You're kind of getting ahead of yourself with this whole cyclops idea. On the other hand, I am on the hunt for a man!"

"That's, uh, not what a manhunt is."

"With love we make our own definitions, brobro."

"If we wanted to really mess things up we could leave the DVD where the twins could find it. If you found out your whole life was a TV show created by people in a whole 'nother universe, that would be pretty messed up, huh? I don't even want to think about it."

Sarah shivered and her whole body momentarily wobbled like jelly. Rob, who had been through that exact experience, was not available for comment.

"We could just erase everybody's memories afterwards, easy peasy. And if the memories came back, they'd just basically feel like two of the same memory, probably, so there wouldn't be too many alarm bells. That or they'd have lifelong psychological trauma. Maybe this is actually not such a good idea, especially if there's no time loop! Wouldn't it be messed up if there was a time loop but then we started noticing the things we did in one loop having effects in the next?"

She puppeteered his mouth and said, "Oh, definitely, that would be so messed up."

"You feeling alright, mate? You've been looking a little overworked lately."

"Aw, no! It's just hot in here. Don't tell me you aren't feeling that."

"Are you lads feeling that?" Several shaken heads (or bodies, or celestial bodies) resulted. "I think it's just you."

"Maybe I'm coming down with something."

"You should get that checked out."

"By who?"

"Good point."

"Mars, care to get a little closer and take a look at this spot in North America that itches?"

"Love to, but I'm currently away. Orbits and all that."

"Quite alright. I'll see you when you come back around."

"Sure hope I don't catch whatever you have, Earth!"

"You know what could be cool? If we became, like, universe hoppers. We experienced the apocalypse back home and we're probably gonna experience it here. So, I was thinking, we could convince the van guy- do you know his name? I feel kinda awkward just calling him the van guy."

Rob didn't know his name, not that he could have told her either way.

"Whatever. We could convince him to take us around and maybe we could visit some more apocalypses. Be folk heroes or something! Wouldn't that be cool? It would have to be after we've gotten our 40 dollars' worth out of this place, though."

It may have been worth 40 dollars in fares for the both of them, but in reality all they had collectively paid for their rides was 20 dollars.

"We could commandeer his vehicle. It'd be two versus one. And I have been known to be pretty convincing," she said, pummeling one palm with the other fist.

Something stirred inside Wrecker's cage and his eye gently fluttered open. Normally, the darkness of the blanket was enough to put him indefinitely to sleep in this little corner of Rob's subconscious, but someone was speaking unintelligibly from on high- that, and the ground was shaking. He made his way out through the hole Bill had bent some time before and meekly opened the door out of the office onto an entirely unfamiliar scene.

Every one of the memory islands beyond the school was in the process of crumbling. Even the TV static backdrop was losing its scintillation in favor of a painfully static- that is to say, still- pattern of gray and white squares, like a transparency layer. His heart jumped into his throat and before long he found himself dashing back into the office and unveiling his three companions.

"You guys," he said in an uncharacteristically fearful tone, "you've got to see this."

"See what? Is it something good?" asked Memory-Rob #1.

"No! It's something very bad!"

Wrecker tried to no avail to bend the bars of the other cages. Just then, a brilliant, half-familiar seam of light split the floor into a crevasse right where he stood, and he only narrowly jumped out of the way as a chunk of the ceiling sizzled into nothingness above him. Memory-Robs #1 and #2 were frightened, pushing at the bars. Superintendent-Rob was looking up with a look of anger and resignation.

"Does anyone here know what's happening?" Wrecker asked, and the others shook their heads.

The ground beneath the cage cracked and splintered.

Debris fell down, down, and then blinked out of existence as it hit some invisible floor.

Memory-Rob #2 made the mistake of standing in the corner of his cage… and then the whole thing plummeted. There was a chilling scream that came to an even more chilling abrupt end.

"Go," said Superintendent-Rob. "See what you can do. No use in staying here and dooming yourself."

Judging by his face, Memory-Rob #1 wanted to protest, but he said nothing, and so Wrecker turned and ran away from the checkered tide just as the school fell into nothingness. The dreamscape was malleable enough for him to leap successfully to the next island, and then the next one, eventually settling on the edge of a nature island where a rusty 'NO BILL ALLOWED' sign guarded a dark forest. This place was stable! All of the other islands had been quaking. He sighed in relief- and then he looked up and saw himself, or rather another Memory-Rob. He wasn't aware that any more existed. No, wait, this wasn't necessarily a memory- could this be his main consciousness?

"What's going on?" asked Wrecker again.

"What do you mean, what's going on?"

"Your memories are crumbling!" Wrecker gestured angrily to the dreamscape in disarray around them.

"It's a good thing I'm safe here, then," said present-Rob(?) with a little smile on his face, one that Wrecker wanted to wipe off. "Who are you?"

"Who- you're asking who I am?"

"Sure I am, dude, I just asked you that."

Wrecker tried to answer, but found that he couldn't. It was both of their minds crumbling.

"I don't know," said Wrecker, "but that's bad."

"Bad?"

For just a second, present-Rob's face flashed with concern, but it faded.

"Yes! Can't you see that something is clearly wrong here?"

"I don't see anything wrong."

Wrecker tried to hold on, he really did. But- even though this island should have been safe- his voice was abruptly cut off as his consciousness, just one part of a larger consciousness, was taken by the encroaching nothingness, leaving a lone Rob staring and wondering who exactly he was just speaking to.

Convinced that this was all just a surreal dream, Present-Rob turned on his heel and walked back into the forest with a content smile. REM sleep was coming to an end, and truth be told this whole thing had made him rather well-rested. The feeling that he was forgetting something occurred to him for a split second and then it was gone.

#rob tawog #tawog rob #bill cipher #henchmaniacs #gumball watterson #nicole watterson #sarah g lato #dipper pines #mabel pines #it's an anthology chapter!#crossover #gravity falls #tawog #the amazing world of gumball #still cant really write dipper and mabel i think #postfallfallsfalsestarts #postfALLOFIT

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ateohsixxxx · 4 months ago

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i conked out at like 1-130 ish after i sent that ask, so i am all rested up😌

idk if it's my new meds, but i haven't been able to stay up past like 2am recently. feel free to take advantage of that knowledge.

if you don't happen to find the treasure, i may have it saved. i typed it out before i sent it, so it's in my notes somewhere.

you definitely need to buy a prop shovel, but you can hit me with a real one. also, i loveee clown core. i've been watching this guy who does different clown make up and it's my fav.

good morning btw ^-^

~🪐

Mhm, mhm, I’m taking notes:

☒ break in after 2am

Now, are you a light sleeper? Or can you sleep through anything? How hard am I gonna be able to use your body before I risk waking you up?

I got the shovel, I’m gonna answer another one from this morning while it’s fresh, then I’m going digging. I need to find that treasure.

I was just looking up tutorials on clowncore makeup. I’m rlly excited to try this out. I’m looking for a decent curtain or something to use as a backdrop but I want it to be red and white stripes and thrifting has been a fruitless endeavor for that lately.

Good morning!! I’m making a breakfast burrito while I wake’n’bake.

Fun fact: I’ve never owned a microwave. I don’t trust them. So many people in my life have tried to talk me out of my microwave paranoia using science, facts, shame, jokes, nothing has worked. I would rather use a god damn oven and bake my shit for 30 minutes than eat food from a microwave.

#🪐

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marcholasmoth · 4 months ago

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OSRR: 3864

i hung wallboard today. it was kind of fun but i ended up inhaling a lot of dust. which kind of sucked. but it was a good day.

on my way out of town, my feet were cold. my first thought? "oh, i should go to starbucks." so i did. and i drank my cocoa. and i warmed up. it was a splendid idea.

i arrived and we got to work shortly after, and i learned first hand that their house is NOT squared off. ANYWHERE. but we worked for four hours and got a bunch of pieces hung up and secured in place, all ones that were fucky with things that needed to be cut out. the outlets, the light switches, the fuckin temperature control. it worked rather well, and i'm proud of the work we did.

but i gotta be real my guys, it was SO NICE to sit down on the sofa afterward. sitting on a conk crete floor is less fun than you'd think, even with all of my fat person padding. the sofa? perfection. magnificent, even. irreplaceable in my life.

and after watching tv for a little bit, we all piled into the car and went to wing stop and got dinner. we piled back into the car with our goodies and went back to the house and ate our wings while watching some more tv. it was honestly such a nice afternoon hanging out with kimberly and nathon. i needed something like this. and it was so wonderful to spend the time with them, both working and doing nothing. i just love them both so much.

when i left, it was maybe 8:40pm. i made my way home, stopping at shaw's for a couple things, before trudging through the door and depositing the spoils from the store in their appropriate locations. i also washed my shoes. they were gross and caked in shit so i took a sponge and warm soapy water to them. i put them on the heater to dry.

now it is just past midnight and i'm tired from a long day of being a badass lmao. tomorrow i return to their abode to go painting with kimberly :) i'm so excited!

joel checked in with me today, too. i think he misses me when im gone. (i'm joking. i know he misses me. he curls around me when it's bedtime after i've been gone for a while. i'm excited for the cuddles.)

#molly rambles #operation srr #osrr #3000s #3800s #sunshine boy

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quirkle2 · 1 year ago

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sCREAMING ZOMBIE MOBU OMFG I ADORE HIM SM a very very eepy zombie :c

okay but how does ritsu or tome make him go to sleep though (i hope it doesn't involve knocking the lights out of him /j)

aLSO THE ONE ON THE MIDDLE, IS THAT WHEN RITSU FAINTED????

- 🪻

VERY EEPY LIL GUY !!

very good question i think there's no like guaranteed way to get him to conk out it's a lot of trial and error and most of the time they simply fail. having spent the majority of the night trying to get mob to fall asleep, they trudge through the next day on like 2 hours of snooze time and simply pray tonight they'll have better luck

the best method they've found is to get him somewhere quiet and peaceful, lie him down or get him to rest against something, and simply sit there quietly. he gets distracted easily by noise, so getting somewhere quiet is a must. somewhere dark is preferred too. they can't always get him to lie down since he's stubborn and Immovable so they settle for getting him to sit against something he can slouch on and getting him as comfy as possible

if they talk too much or start bickering mob will likely latch onto their convo since it's the only thing around to listen to, and then he won't fall asleep cuz he's too enthralled by their voices, so they have to just sit there. tome once tried to pretend to fall asleep to give him the idea "hey maybe i should do that too" and ritsu was desperate enough to copy her.it didn't work. if it weren't for the fact that they're Worried about how negatively all this lack of sleep has to be impacting his health, they'd find this whole scenario funny

it's def not fullproof, but if they're quiet for long enough and mob's body is Tired enough, he'll eventually drift off like ,,70% of the time. sometimes mob gets too stubborn and will keep moving around and shoving the blankets off of him, sometimes the space they're in just isn't quiet enough and he can hear little animals in the leaves around him. and sometimes everything goes perfectly and yet he's still awake and staring at either of them, seemingly confused on this lack of movement since they always seem to be movin somewhere, but ultimately content to just sit here

ritsu has a little mental map of how much sleep mob gets and it's lookin dismal. every time mob goes more than like 3 days without sleeping he starts gettin real stressed. it def doesn't help that after a while mob will start acting like he's seeing shit that isn't there, or hearing things that they don't

and alsoYEESSS YES that Is when ritsu fainted<33 poor mob has alarm bells ringin in his head but no idea how to respond to them past the brain fog

#qktalks #anon #zombie au

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concrete-critters · 2 years ago

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Okay this is more a comment than an ask but Concreteclan gives me the vibes of an episodic cartoon that slowly starts to have overarching stories and themes and arcs like adventure time or..actually adventure time is the only thing I can think of. Concreteclan has adventure time vibes!/pos

OOC: Awww thank you!! To be perfectly candid and honest, while i do love adventure time and that probably did leak into Concreteclan as a result-The real inspirations of this blog are (besides other clangen blogs) tails gets trolled, Mob psycho 100 and Preeny has to repeat 6th grade. I love the mspaint aesthetic so much, i use clip studio paint but purposefully try to keep my shading flat most of the time and my lines crisply pixely. I also know that even though i could probably make the comic look "nicer" i choose to kinda play fast and loose with the lines and colors. I mean, lorn's face is constantly changing length in almost every panel lmao. Ive found its more fun to not worry so much about making sure my art is perfect. As for my inspirations- Tails gets trolled is like. actually a fucking great webcomic, as flawed as it is. (its been a while since ive read it, pretty sure slurs are used in it lol, but i digress) Concreteclan is really an homage to it in only art style and sometimes humor. If you guys want another webcomic thats like more of a direct homage, i would highly recomend Scoob and Shag, which is just as apeshit if not more. Mob psycho 100 is a more subtle inspiration, i just really resonate with the themes of that comic. I also got a confidence boost from it cuz like. Mob100's artstyle is rough and some would say "bad". But it still got made into an anime! and its still acclaimed. You know why? Cuz the art is EXPRESSIVE! It evokes emotion! And thats what im going for! emotion over perfection. Also its got really good writing. Preeny has to repeat 6th grade is. god. probably just straight up a special interest of mine. Its such a kind story. A lot of clangen stories start with tragedy. (esp when theres only two cats to start off) And dont get me wrong, i love it a lot. Starting from nothing like that is a really fun narrative and I live for it. But im a contrarian little guy. So i wanted to start off with an act of kindness that has ripple effects for the rest of the comic. There will be tragedy and sadness in Concreteclan, but I guess i just want it to be in a different way. And while im talking about inspirations, Lorn and Indigo both kinda were inspired by Papyrus and Sans from undertale. In terms of dynamics. Lorn is more inspired by Papyrus than Indigo is inspired by Sans. Indigo is far different from Sans, and would probabaly find him uncouth and a slob. She's a proper lady with manners after all. Lorn and Papyrus would fucking have a blast hanging out though.

All in all, yeah! Thats my rant of the day done, thanks for the ask! I'm Buddy and thats Conk-CRETE!

#ooc

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fizzyizzysoda · 2 months ago

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Chapter 35 bts and notes!

readers beware, you're in for a scare

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44377294/chapters/164979373

There are a TON of literature references in here! I'll list them all below:

1. Japanese death poetry. That Chogo quote is REAL. the whole poem is 'I long for people / then again, I loathe them / end of autumn' and i couldn't find any other poems by this Chogo person so that might be their only one. 2. Emily Dickinson's poem 937 3. Sylvia Plath's poem "Lady Lazarus" 4. Frankenstein ("my form is a filthy type of yours") 5. Julius Caesar (Julius Caesar = Julius, obviously; and Bex = Brutus Rex) Bex is also inspired by Rebecca DeWinter (du Maurier's Rebecca) and Lady Macbeth (Shakespeare's Macbeth). shouldn't b too spoilery 6. The Bible. obviously.

Onto the rest of the notes and BTS:

Rekha's t shirt is inspired by that one kurtis conner video about oddly specific shirts. I was originally going to have it say "never underestimate a man born in january who likes to garden" but decided to cut the last clause because it was just a bit too unwieldy

this chapter is a good 40 pages on google docs and took ten years off my life

the last part I wrote was the very start, when rekha and bakugou talk about the way he acts. it was hard for me to really articulate bakugou's motivations etc, even though i understand them very well implicitly.

i listened to three songs on repeat as i was in the final drafting stages: Eggs in One Basket by Tele Novella, Carpathia by Tele Novella, and BIBBIDIBA by Hoshimachi Suisei

the clatter Julius attributes to being a cat is actually Kirishima fumbling with the night vision goggles. I understand the chronology is a bit off based on how it's placed, but just know that that all happens BEFORE Mt Lady wrecks the warehouse with her truck shoe.

that bit about the school bus is inspired by this one winter evening when i was in kindergarten. throughout elementary i had this awful habit of falling asleep on the bus and making the bus driver wait for me to get off. on that day, i was straight conked out into the nighttime, i'd missed my stop and only woke up much further along the route, but naturally as a kindergartener i didn't have any idea what to do. thankfully a bunch of 8th graders called my babysitter to pick me up and i was returned home safe! i don't recall freaking out all that much, i might've been too tired to. anyways, I hope all those guys are doing well now.

the reason this chapter took so long to come out is bc i was in uni (sobs) and finding the time to consult canon was surprisingly difficult?? i was doing a lot of writing on my phone before my english lectures.

also another part of why it took so long to come out is because i was reading Robinson Crusoe and that book NEGATIVELY IMPACTED MY WRITING so i had to reread You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine to rescue it. That bit with the nomu factory is most heavily inspired by YTCHABLM.

ren is wearing a cravat in this chapter. no one really WANTS to know that but i feel like you all NEED to.

i changed up some of the canon dialogue a bit, mostly the monologues that sound stilted in the translations (i.e. shigaraki, the press conference, etc). part of the stiltedness, to me, comes from the fact that the monologues themselves need to be restructured so they make more logical sense. so i did that. then i just made the words themselves sound more natural.

it was a huge internal debate for me trying to figure out if i should or shouldn't have rekha do her deductions regarding the Nomu in this chapter, but i ended up doing so bc in a white room, what else are you gonna do but theorise?

are julius and bex fucking. yeah. also no.

bakugou's "i am beneath nobody' is admittedly ripped from a rlly good Brennan Lee Mulligan monologye from Exandria Unlimited: Calamity. I'm sorry guys i;m so uncreative sobs.

there was a bit i added in the press conference section that i'm really proud of: 'The reporter raised his brows. “So the incompetency on the parts of the adults involved can be excused because the children were forced to compensate?"'

i entered a fugue state and played west of loathing almost entirely in a night, hence that line about the tumbleweed haha

that's all! pls enjoy the chapterrr give it a kudos and comment smash that like button hit that bell etc

#mad iqs ao3 #fizzy writes #chapter update

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tcawirelespearlcity · 6 months ago

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autobot-ratchet · 8 months ago

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Earthspark episode 1+2!

I was gonna say " who the fuck is this Swindle-lookin ass bitch" but it literally is Swindle lmfAO the cheesy accent gave him away even before I saw his face

ooh this synthy music??? I like it

oh interesting, we're not even trying to have our Optimus sound like Peter Cullen this time, fair enough

OH YAY ELITA GETS TO BE A MAIN CHARACTER THANK GOD I hope she gets to have fun after how they did her in Siege lmAO

I knew this show took place post-war but. I dunno I guess I expected it to do this more like Cyberverse where they start off at war and then it ends on screen but nah, we're post-war right off the bat. honestly I think that's just fine lmAO much like when you start reading tf comics at MTMTE, I think it's good and even refreshing to just be like "yeah yeah the war, you all know the kind of shit that went down let's get into the new shit"

OH HELL YES WHEEL-SKATING straight up I don't think we've seen a bot do this since Bee in tfa lmAO I'm so glad we're bringing it back

oh right the bug thing lmAO I forgot to mention it at the very beginning of the episode but now there is a swarm of them??? scraplets????? well they didnt eat any metal and Optimus says they're not Cybertronian so I guess not

on the one hand, naming the city "Witwicky" is a cute little reference but on the other hand if they say the name of the city out loud, especially multiple times, I am going to get confused and have to remember that it's a place and not a person every single time lmAO I already know this will be the case

oh it's the human child sidekicks! I vaguely know of them

ah, moving drama

"quit shaking the bridge, Mo." bRO THE PAVEMENT??? YOU THINK SHE'S MOVING ALL THAT HERSELF THAT'S FUCKING CONK CRETE

ghdsjk she just picks up a big rock for a weapon, valid

"*slaps Robby's hand* That's how scary movies start" I already like Mo lmAO

did the matrix rock just give them powergloves

ooh interesting, they're kind of mind-melded

I was gonna be like "how the FUCK do they know what transformers are, like by name" but like. what if earth just already knows about cybertronians and the war and whatnot? it is post-war, maybe the war got brought here in this continuity too and humanity already went through the whole "holy shit giant robots" thing off screen lmAO

what's good Silas 2.0

wh. they just. have transformers comic books lmfAO that's Soundwave on the cover. I know Soundwave's in this show and he don't look like that, he's got a totally different design so like. what the fuck??? are we doing the whole "my video game jumped out the TV and became real" type of thing? what's the lore here Earthspark, you have immediately confused me

fghjdks they think they're history books........

fgdsjkgfhdjk Twitch and Thrash are cute

okay so I was right about humans already knowing about Cybertronians and how they came to earth a while ago. but then they say Cybertronians and Transformers are two different things??? interesting

I'm actually gonna fuckin scream if this is a direct sequel to G1

I'M

I was gonna poke fun at this show for reusing clips from G1 but they're not even doing that these are new clips emulating the style of G1, that actually rules hard lmAO

is that why the fuckign city is named Witwicky is it not a reference and instead an in-universe homage to Spike is Spike actually in the god damn show. also we're just retconning the mom into G1 lore lmfAO honestly that's so fucking valid and based, I unironically love that, you go, Earthspark, weave your OC into canon lore

*points at the 0.2 seconds of footage containing Ratchet* Ratchet sighting

oh shit Bee is missing? also their dad is real cute, I love his lame-ass jokes

"it's just that even if we are Transformers, we don't feel like part of their story, or fight." hell yeah Twitch, you're right and you should say it, be your own bots

aw man that's mean, don't make a fake new job just to lure her in near your base like that come on

If I didn't know for a fact Megatron was a good guy in this one, his sudden arrival would be wildly intimidating lmAO and he's a helicopter in this one? nice, he gets to fly again

m...megs........ it's weird to hear it said out loud in official material lmAO

eeyyy baby's first alt mode! and I guess she just kinda manifested a new paint job along with it

for half a second I was like "is Thrash gonna have a squirrel beast mode. is this how bots get beast modes" lmAO

honestly I am so fascinated by having our human character be so chummy with Megatron and clearly not get along with Optimus. like. in the G1 flashback, Megatron was still clearly leading the Decepticons when everyone came to earth, so he was still fucking shit up like within recent memory. I guess everyone got over it lmfAO

YEAAAH MO GET HIS ASS I love her lmAO

uh oh, caught

oh sHIT IT'S SILAS 2.0 NOOO HE TOOK THE KIDS

"those come off, right?" honestly good question lmAO they certainly haven't taken them off yet

cybertronus cybertroni??? I mean I guess if humans have known about them for years they WOULD have come up with binomial nomenclature for them lmfAO

TERRANS I KNOW THAT WORD I'VE SEEN POSTS CONTAINING THAT WORD LMAO

lol Silas 2.0 is mad that he got owned

hgdhfjDSDFGJASKF OPTIMUS WITH THE EMOJIS....... DAD BEHAVIOR

fdshajkd dude got owned a second time... if he doesn't tell us his fuckin name soon I'm also gonna start calling him mandroid

oh thESE SPIDERY THINGS ARE INSECTICONS??? I MEAN I GUESS THAT MAKES SENSE LMAO

hey this rules lmfAO I love that Dorothy used to fight alongside the autobots, I love that she gets to kick ass and be involved, she's honestly more involved than the child sidekicks

ghdfsj she called the Terrans "kids........" I can already tell I'm gonna love the family aspect of this, it is so cute how there's gonna be both human and bot kids treating each other as siblings

WH. SO MUCH FOR MISSING LMAO HEY BEE WHAT'S GOOD

also I love how the dad knew it was him by the sound of him transforming. like, Bee's specific transformation sound

hell yeah tell him, Dorothy

yeah I'm sold, I'm into this already lmAO what a solid opening

#earthspark watch

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jeonqkooks · 2 years ago

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our beloved summer | jjk (06)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, kissing (omg k1ss1ng omg WHO IS IT ??? 😦), tbh this is the only warning i wanted u guys to read cuz 6 chapters in and we finally get sum action i feel like that's a win lmaooooo, jimin being Real as fook, unbeta'd cuz uhm i'm a godless menace who should be conked on the head, once again we are severely lacking jk in his own fic lol i'm owning up to this 🤗 BUT! this is probably the last chapter where jk feels like a side character lol apologies my dudes

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.1k (honestly i wrote obs6 just so i could get to obs7 lmao that's why it's a lil bit shorter)

note: my apologies if this sucks. you are legally allowed to stone me if you hate it. but i hope you don't hate it. but if you do hate it don't tell me just stone me lol 🤐 why am i so unhinged with this update

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile - Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)

The picture is fucking terrible.

“Jimin, what the fuck,” you grumble, staring at the huge framed photo on the wall, taken on the day of the opening party. You, Taehyung and Jimin are gathered on the floor of the dance studio, with boxes of takeout neatly sitting between the three of you. “I look like ass.”

Jimin barely glances at the wall, just continues to stuff his face with the dumplings that you ordered. “You look fine,” he says absentmindedly, mouth full, continuing to munch on the food despite your little dilemma.

“Bitch, I have my eyes closed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, squinting at your photographed self again. The more you look at it, the more irritated you become.

Realistically, you know nobody would pay enough attention to notice the immortalized visual of your fluttering eyes, and you yourself wouldn’t care about it that much. Maybe you would even laugh in good spirits and poke fun at yourself as you often do. Make a meme of it for the group chat.

“What’s the big deal?” Jimin asks.

You shrug petulantly. “I told you. I look like ass.”

Yeah, true, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the fact that the person standing next to you looks so good that you must voice your grievances. It’s the fact that he looks so much more than just good.

The guys stop eating to look at you. You wonder just how much of what you’re feeling is written all over your face. Regardless, they don’t comment on it.

One of them clears his throat, shaking the whole thing off.

“Did you tell Yoongi anything yet?” Jimin asks.

You poke at a lone dumpling with your chopsticks, popping the ‘p’ when you say, “Nope.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jimin scolds you. “It’s been three weeks. He doesn’t want to push you for an answer but the man has got to be suffering.”

You flick a piece of spring onion garnish at him. It lands on his hair, a single bit of green sitting among golden locks. “I don’t know what to tell him!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jimin shakes the onion piece from his head and chucks it back at you. “Obviously you say yes!”

You exhale through your nose, then take a bite of your dumpling. You nibble on the fried dough, stretching out the silence, delaying your response.

It hasn’t even started, and it might not even start. But you’re already thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Yoong is your friend, first and foremost. He’s a good friend, and you would be crushed if you lose that relationship.

What if he hurts you, or you hurt him?

Sometimes, people are meant to hurt each other even if they don’t mean to.

Yoongi hasn’t seen your pieces in all of their jagged glory, how they’re only meant to reflect the light but never be healed by it. He’s still blissfully unaware of the ugly thoughts that have a home inside your head, and you’re afraid if you let him in, he’d realize it’s a place he doesn’t want to be. It’s hard to love a broken thing. You wouldn’t want to love you either.

Maybe this is the real reason that’s been holding you back all this time. Maybe it isn’t Jungkook - though he certainly isn’t absolved - but it’s you, and how you just don’t know if you’re someone who deserves to love and be loved. You’ve felt inadequate more times than you can count. You’ve been left before. Who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?

You’re well aware that this is a bad way to look at things, but can anyone really blame you? You still have a heart, and despite how fragmented it is, you still want to protect it.

“I know that look,” Taehyung says, parting your fog and pulling you back to him. “You’re overthinking again.”

You roll your eyes. He knows you so well, but does he have to call you out every time?

“I’m not overthinking. I’m regular thinking.”

“Right. And to normal people, that’s overthinking.”

“It’s just…” you wonder out loud, gaze on the floor. “What if I go all in, and Yoongi sees me for who I am and thinks that I’m just an utterly sad person who can’t be loved? That I’m too much work when he’s got literally thousands of people throwing themselves at him left and right?”

Taehyung stares at the side of your face as he bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue soothes the spot, his jaw clenching once. “He’s not going to think that.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging down.

“You’re not unlovable just because one person didn’t love you right. So stop it with that bullshit, because I love you,” he says, voice serious. Even Jimin stays silent as he listens to his friend, his eyes flickering between you and Taehyung. “And Jimin loves you. Hobi loves you.”

You merely blink, because you hate it when he’s right. In all fairness, you understand. This is the same thing you would tell him if the situation were reversed.

You deflect anyway. That’s what you do best.

“You don’t count,” you tell him with an unserious scoff, your tone starkly contrasting his. “You’re my family.”

You taste something bitter as soon as the words leave your mouth. You should know better than anyone, that just because someone’s your family, doesn’t mean they have to love you.

Taehyung reenacts the blinking guy meme before chuckling, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Ouch.”

“You two are getting nowhere,” Jimin interjects. “Just call Yoongi.”

“And say what?” you ask.

“I told you. Say yes. God, you’re so dense sometimes.”

You reach over to jab a finger into his side, making him hiss and shuffle away from you.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble.

“Well, somebody’s gotta say it.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised for a few seconds before he lowers them and grows more stern. “Come on, Y/N. You know you don’t want to say no, or else you would’ve turned him down already. You said you wanted to start dating again. Yoongi is practically on his knees offering himself to you. What are you waiting for?”

There’s a voice in the back of your head - tiny, barely audible - that whispers, Who are you waiting for?

“Fuck it, I’ll say it,” Jimin continues. “It sucks balls that Jungkook hurt you, but you can’t let that affect you for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to hurt you. You’re not even giving Yoongi a chance just because someone else did you dirty. If you keep always thinking about the worst possible outcome and banking on it to happen, then you’re never going to get anywhere. I love you, dude, but y’know.”

You stare at Jimin with your mouth slightly open, stunned into silence. When you glance at Taehyung, he’s surprised too, though probably not as much as you.

After a couple of minutes, you say, “Wow.”

“Tough love. I have my moments.” Jimin shrugs casually, like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb on your head. “But also…” He picks his phone up and types something in. Your phone instantly buzzes with a notification.

“Open the link I just sent you,” he says.

“You are literally sitting across from me.”

“Just open it! I made you a playlist.”

“Aw, Jimin, that’s so cute,” you coo softly, reaching over to pinch his cheek before he swats your hand away. You unlock your phone to see what Jimin made you, because that is some friendship hall of fame stuff right there. However, when the link redirects you to your music app, your smile immediately drops.

Aaand he’s back.

You stare at the screen for a good ten seconds to try and find your bearings, flabbergasted at something that is quite honestly very on-brand for Jimin if you think about it. “You made me a playlist called Dick Appointment with an eggplant emoji and the tongue out emoji and it’s mostly just Yoongi’s songs. Even the playlist cover is from his Valentino shoot.”

“So you can get it on while Agust D plays in the background!” Jimin grins, and you could just smack it right off his face.

“Park Jimin, who raised you? You are vile.”

“Validate me,” he demands. Oh, you would smack him. You really would. “I spent hours making that playlist.”

“It’s literally just Yoongi’s songs.”

“Yeah, but I had to curate an experience. I can’t just dump every song into a playlist and call it a day. I gotta make sure they fit the vibe.”

“I literally just heard the most profound shit from you not even two minutes ago.” Then, you turn to Taehyung with an exasperated look on your face. “Why would you let him do this?”

He just waves a dismissive hand in the air, like Jimin isn’t even there. “I’m not responsible for the stupid shit he does.”

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest, both eyebrows raised dramatically as he gapes at you. “You both suck. From now on, you can make your own sexytime playlists.”

“Nobody even asked you to do that!” you cry.

“Yeah! Which makes me an even more considerate friend,” he says. “Ugh. Whatever. Go call Yoongi.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll wuss out when you’re alone. You can stay and put him on speakers for us to hear or you can go out into the hallway. Come on, chop chop.”

“No, I have to text him first,” you protest. “What if he’s busy?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, but allows you this after a moment. “Fine.”

You take out your phone from your bag that’s lying carelessly on the floor to draft a quick message to Yoongi.

[12:59] You: got a minute?

The three of you go back to the food, abandoning the previous topic of conversation in favor of something lighter and meaningless or else you would go crazy waiting for Yoongi’s reply. After you’re finished, you and Taehyung are in the middle of putting away all the empty containers and soda cans when your phone buzzes again.

You go to grab it to look at the notification, hands already starting to sweat.

[13:17] Yoongi: for you? always :)

You turn back to the guys to find them already looking at you. Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while Taehyung just stares at you.

“Time to get your whore on,” Jimin says in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

You turn to Taehyung for help. “He’s bullying me.”

“Ignore him,” your best friend tells you gently. “Go call Yoongi.”

When you take your phone out into the hallway, you make sure to go to the far end of it, near the main entrance so the two dorks can’t eavesdrop. You’ll tell them everything once you come back anyway, but you don’t want them within earshot while you’re in the middle of it.

Yoongi picks up your call on the third ring. In the background, your ear picks up on some chatter.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you. Then he holds the phone away from his ear to tell someone that he’d be back in a bit.

“Hey,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Just at a fitting. I have an ad campaign to film next week,” he answers. “Did you call just to get my whereabouts?”

“No, I… If you’re busy, we can talk later.”

“We’re still in the middle of lunch break anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

You briefly regret not taking a minute to psych yourself up before. You suck in a deep breath, which eases your nerves for just a second, long enough for you to say, “Yes.”

You’re met with brief silence from the other end of the line, which only makes your palms more clammy than they already are.

“Yes?” he echoes confusedly. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” you say again. “To…”

The silence commences once more, and lasts longer than you think you can handle. Then, you hear him stop in the middle of a breath.

“Oh.” A subsequent chuckle in response to the lightbulb that must’ve been switched on. “To that?”

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

It feels like you two have invented a secret language that nobody else could understand. A single syllable, bouncing off the metaphorical walls of your conversation. Two idiots sharing the same brain cell.

“Yes?” he continues to prod, but at this point, you know he’s just teasing you.

“Yes! God, stop making me say it again. We sound so stupid.”

He graces you with a hearty laugh that makes you fight back a sheepish smile, even though there isn’t a single soul in sight to witness it. Yoongi makes you so fucking shy for some reason. Your nerves dissolve momentarily as you lean against the wall, your index finger running along a crack in the paint.

“Hmm, I wish you would’ve told me this in person,” he says, his voice soft.

“I can’t handle you in person. You’d tease me so much.”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered, that’s why.” He waits a second before adding, “You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“You’re being overly confident, Min.”

“Maybe,” he responds easily. “But am I right, though?”

“Shut up.”

When Yoongi said he would cook for you, you almost gasped.

“You can cook?” you had asked. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation or anything, but you suppose you’d never given much thought to the hidden sides of him.

“Y/N,” he laughed then. “I’m a great cook. I could probably make a pretty decent career out of being a chef.”

“I didn’t know that,” you told him sheepishly.

“There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me.” It sounded like a promise. Like I’m willing to show you me. Like I’m willing to take the first step if you’d be in this with me too. “Does that sound like a good idea? You, me, dinner at your place?”

“My place?”

“Yeah, so you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll come over.”

This one simple gesture shouldn’t affect you that much, but it does. You appreciate that he’s considerate even when it comes to the littlest things. You swell with gratitude for the thought he puts into this, into putting your comfort first. It made you feel a bit better about yourself, calmed your stormy sea of thoughts enough to rationally accept the fact that he genuinely cares.

Regardless, it doesn’t stop you from spending most of the day obsessively cleaning your apartment. Even - and especially - your bedroom, although you’re sure that is not where the night will end. Every surface is spotless, not a single speck of dust to be found. It’s like the goddamn Pope is coming over for a house inspection.

You haven’t had a first date in… fuck, how long has it been now? Nine years? It’s almost been a fucking decade already? You honestly can’t tell if that’s embarrassing or not.

But you remember the last time.

College, freshman year, with Jungkook. His yellow piece of sticky note that he slipped inside your favorite book. His adorably flustered expression when he timidly stood in front of you in the campus library. The way he was trying so hard to be confident and charming throughout your first dinner together. How he ran back to you after saying goodnight.

No.

You shut your eyes and shake your head, warding off any Jungkook-related thoughts before they could send you spiraling. You can’t reminisce about your ex while waiting for someone else to show. Yoongi deserves better, and that’s what you’re trying to be.

You’re not exactly sure how nice you should dress tonight. Yoongi told you that you could be clad in sweats for all he cares. If the dinner didn’t hold any connotation other than platonic, maybe you would’ve really donned your loungewear like you were merely having Taehyung and Jimin over for pizza.

You’d completely forgotten all the things people worry about in the early stages of dating, when you want to impress the other person but don’t want them to think that you’re trying too hard.

Calm down. It’s just Yoongi. He’s seen you ugly crying with mascara running down your face, for fuck’s sake.

In the end, you opt for a sweater and a comfortable skirt. Casual.

Yoongi rings your doorbell about ten minutes later than when he said he’d be there, holding a bag full of groceries. The visual alone makes you bite back a giggle and subsequently fail. You believe this is what people would call husband material.

You take his coat and guide him into your home. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you say shyly, gesturing around as you lead him into the kitchen to show him where everything is. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. If Taehyung or Jimin could see you right now, they would probably laugh. Hoseok would straight up be rolling on the floor.

You barely breathe as you watch Yoongi take in his surroundings. It’s intimidating, even though you know it’s just Yoongi.

“I actually don’t know what I expected, but I like it. It’s very you,” he comments, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s cute,” he says, throwing you a wink as he leans against your kitchen counter.

You avert your gaze immediately. “Oh… Thanks,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “So, uhm, what are you making? How can I help?”

“Just sit down. I got this.”

“Yoongi,” you say his name in protest. “I want to h-”

“I’m trying to romance you here. Let me do that,” Yoongi says, his smile turning lopsided as he starts emptying the contents of his grocery bags. Even though his tone is light, the gentle reminder of tonight being a date shuts you right up.

You take a seat at your dining table, though you can’t really sit still. As Yoongi starts working, you absentmindedly talk to each other about your day, about his campaign, about Seokjin’s album. At one point, you get up to creep over to his side when the smell of whatever he’s making becomes more prominent. You try to peek at the pot, curious, but he just shoos you away by bumping his hip against yours.

When you give him a small pout, you pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart to your mouth. You retract yourself from his personal space, choosing a spot on the other side of your kitchen island, staring at his back as he works.

You watch him expertly navigate your kitchen like he’s been here before. When he’s finished, he makes you sit down, not even letting you help bring the food to the table.

“What is it?” you ask once he’s settled in his seat, everything plated in front of you.

“Kimchi jjigae,” he says, a proud look on his face. “My mom’s recipe.”

It’s endearing, and it makes you smile.

For the most part, Yoongi lets you eat in peace, though there’s still a couple of flirtatious comments here and there. Every time it comes, you bite down on your bottom lip to try and snap out of that daze before you cough, as if that would help tone down the colors adorning your face. There’s no verbal response from you, and it seems like Yoongi doesn’t expect one either, because he just chuckles. You think he must notice the palpable nervousness that radiates off of you, but it’s not like you’re doing a very good job at hiding it.

You’re taking baby steps and he knows it. The fact that you even agreed to this at all is already major progress.

When you’re done eating, he clears the table while he asks you to open the expensive bottle of wine that he brought over. It does wonders for your nerves.

Three glasses in and you’re visibly more relaxed as you both sit on the couch in the living room, facing each other. There’s a small smile on your face that you can’t help, maybe it’s some of your inhibitions wearing off as a side effect of the alcohol.

You glance around the room, and you take in the sight of Yoongi sitting here, this close to you. He feels bigger than your small world can handle.

“You know,” you start. If the wine didn’t make you more mellow, you probably wouldn’t be saying this. “There are thousands of people thirsting over you every day.”

Yoongi tilts his head, swirling the wine in his glass. “Really?”

“Don’t you look at the internet? I personally know two girls from college who are on the Yoongi Marry Me train,” you say matter-of-factly, like you aren’t borderline tipsy in front of him.

You aren’t an avid Twitter user, but every time you check the damn bird app, Yoongi is almost always trending. In every single one of his posts on social media, there is always an influx of comments asking him to marry them. Not only that, when word first got out about you collaborating with Agust D back then, people you knew - both old friends and acquaintances - practically bombarded your messages to see if it was true, and to ask if you could get them an autograph.

Yoongi stretches out his legs until they brush against yours. Your stomach flips even though it’s only your legs that are barely touching.

“The what train?”

“You seriously don’t know about the Yoongi Marry Me movement? Look it up. It’s a whole thing. People would do anything to, I don’t know, hold your hand or something.”

With an amused look on his face, he holds your gaze. “Would you?”

“What?”

“Would you do all of that just to hold my hand? Because you don’t have to, y’know.” He brings the wine glass to his lips, partially hiding his face from you, and you don’t know whether he’s doing it for your sake or his in preparation for the words he speaks next. “But I would do it to hold yours.”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning bright, your stomach twisted in knots. It’s the wine, but it’s definitely the effect of his words too. You stare at Yoongi in surprise; no matter how many times he openly flirts with you, he’d still elicit the same reaction from you. It’ll be hard to get used to it. He just always seems to know what to say to make you blush like a schoolgirl, which you resent but you can’t deny the sparks of excitement that make your fingertips tingle.

Yoongi is smooth, and it’s even worse - or is it better? You haven’t decided yet - that you know he means every word he says. It makes you feel… wanted. It’s good to know that he’s being genuine, and to know that Yoongi isn’t the type of person who would ever pull the rug out from under you.

Yoongi is… stable.

You suppose, after everything you’ve been through, that stability is what you need. It’s good for you.

You try to swerve around the thoughts, to avoid them at all costs, but deep down you know now that they’re glaringly true.

That love is stored in two bags of groceries, so filled to the brim that some onions almost fall out. Love is stored in every flick of his wrist holding a knife, slicing the sharp blade across your cutboard. Clean cuts, yet he’s never this way when it comes to you.

Love is stored in a fond smile and adoring eyes when he sees how you cradle your expensive dishware like it’s a newborn baby before you set it carefully on the table.

Love is stored in a Yoongi-shaped silhouette, dancing over your countertops with practiced precision in every movement, filling in the cracks of your home. The love in him is reserved because you, like the moon when it crescents, still have a ways to go.

When he stands at your door an hour later with his coat in hand, you wait for him to speak first.

“Performance review?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“I… liked it. It was nice,” you say honestly. But you still feel the wine in your system, and it makes you bold enough to tease him for a change. “But it was my first date in a while, so it’s hard to tell if that opinion is objective.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Do I qualify for a second date then?”

You hum in thought, making him wait on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, feigning nonchalance, which earns you a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks, hopeful.

“Don’t know yet,” you answer, though you’ll probably end up going home and catching up on a kdrama. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Just in the morning. I have a shoot in the afternoon.” He shifts to lean his weight on his other leg, tipping his body closer to you. “But I can pick you up after.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

Yoongi shrugs in earnest. “Just drive around? Grab a bite?” he thinks out loud, tilting his head slightly to one side for emphasis. “I could take you to that popup store you mentioned.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You would stand in line with me to buy a novelty mug?”

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to stand in line if I gave them a call,” he says, grinning. “One of the perks of the job, y’know.”

“Must be nice,” you laugh, then shift to lean just a tad closer to him. You look at him for a brief moment before you agree, “Yeah, okay.”

You and Yoongi stand there at the door, each of you on either side of the threshold. This would be an appropriate moment for a kiss, you think. That explosive first kiss, if this were a movie. Exhilaration courses through your veins. You feel it from your head to the tips of your fingers to your toes. The feeling is rendering you a mere teenager again.

It’s exciting because it’s new. You have the entire book ahead of you, waiting to be written. At this point, anything could happen. You’re a blank canvas waiting to be drawn, a blank page hoping to be written.

Wait.

Back up.

A kiss?

A kiss?!

With Yoongi?

You’re thinking about kissing Yoongi?!

Fuck.

Fuck?!

It’s the wine.

Your thoughts knock against each other like bumper cars, echoing loudly in your brain that it almost gives you a headache.

You stay still as Yoongi leans down, your heart racing while your brain just keyboard-smashes. You can’t tell if you want him to kiss you or not, but when he only presses his lips against your cheek, you feel two emotions at once.

The first is disappointment, the second is relief. They press down on you with almost equal force, and you’re not really sure which one weighs heavier.

Baby steps.

You blink when he pulls away, and he just smiles fondly at you as if he can read your mind.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You watch him until he’s in the elevator, until the doors close and the lift descends. Even when you know that he must be on his way to his car and that someone else is making their way up, you stand there, with your hand loosely wrapped around the door handle, your breathing slightly erratic as you process what just happened.

Déjà vu?

It’s oddly reminiscent.

You’ve been here before.

Part of you thinks he’ll burst through the elevator doors, or rush up the stairs if the lift is occupied, and come back to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook knows you’re probably waiting for Yoongi.

He’s seen Yoongi pick you up after work almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and it’s driving him insane. Even on the days that Yoongi comes to the studio during the day, the guy is all over you, so much so that he doesn’t even bother being a nuisance to Jungkook anymore, which just makes him a thousand times more insufferable.

Something is happening.

He can’t weasel shit out of Jimin anymore because Jimin has been especially tight-lipped after accidentally spilling Yoongi’s confession to you.

Because that should be him in Yoongi’s place. Or should he say his place, and Yoongi is just a placeholder. An imposter.

Because it used to be him that you smiled shyly at.

Jimin’s words have been plaguing his every waking hour since he was forced to hear them. If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too. It feels like he’s rewinding all of your memories, retracing them with cautious fingers only to find that his every footstep is being erased to make room for someone else.

An abandoned dirt road, while you walk down a flower-filled path holding someone else’s hand.

Like you’re stamping him out.

Like he was never there at all.

Not only are you denying him a chance, you’re giving it to someone else. When he tries to move at someone else’s pace, all he gets is left behind.

It’s not about Yoongi; or at least, it’s not just about him. Yoongi doesn’t even really matter to Jungkook in this equation. It’s about what Yoongi represents. An idea of a person that Jungkook can never be.

A bigger life. A stable present and an even brighter future. Yoongi is everything better than him.

And that’s his own problem to deal with, not anyone else’s. At the end of the day, no one has to live with his insecurities but himself.

But still, he can’t help it. Whenever he sees you with Yoongi, his eyes burn. Please don’t let him take my place, he wishes every time, you’re the only good thing about me.

It’s jealousy, sure, of course it’s there.

But what if you realize what everyone else already knows? That Yoongi is better in every single way. That Yoongi is the person who really deserves you.

What if you start to see Jungkook the way he sees himself?

You hating him - despising him with every cell in your body - is a thousand times better than you deeming him unworthy.

“I talked to Jihyo,” he speaks up suddenly, when it’s only the two of you.

“Okay,” you answer, never taking your eyes off the page in front of you. You must have circled the words daisy a thousand times already, wracking your brain for anything that rhymes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this, but good for you.”

At this point, you wonder if you should just avoid the studio for the time being. It’s empty here again. You resent Seokjin for drowning in concept photos. You resent Namjoon for leaving Jungkook here to fend for himself, but it’s only fair, because Namjoon was only supposed to give him a helping hand, not take over the whole thing. You even resent Yoongi a bit, for not being here right this second.

“I talked to her,” Jungkook says again, ignoring your sass. “She won’t give you a hard time anymore.”

This makes you look at him. You never asked him to do this. You never asked him to do anything. In fact, you have only ever implored him to sit still and leave things alone.

“She never gave me a hard time,” you say. Sure, you don’t appreciate being given the death glare first thing in the morning, but it’s not something that you can’t ignore. It doesn’t actively affect you, and the only reason Jihyo does it is because of Jungkook.

Because he broke things off with her?

Because he gives you more attention?

Ugh. Attention?

This is the stupidest and most childish thing you have had to think about in ages.

“You said she acts differently toward you.”

“And aren’t you the reason why?” you counter. “Because you two were fucking?”

Jungkook visibly winces at your words, like he did when you mentioned it the first time in the break room. You don’t mean to be snarky; you’re just stating the facts. They were hooking up.

You don’t harbor any ill will toward any of his past lovers, and that includes Jihyo. You know she doesn’t have anything against you either, at least not on a personal level because you don’t know each other well enough to do so. She’s just someone you pass by every day on your way to the elevator.

“So why did things end?” you ask just for the sake of it, since he was the one who brought it up. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

He hesitates for a moment. “She wanted something more and it wasn’t the same for me.”

It’s stupid that the tiny voice in the back of your head resurfaces, hoping that you were the reason why he couldn’t pursue things with another woman.

Jihyo isn’t you, that much is clear. You never asked for anything more from him, not once from start to finish. He was always the first one to pour love into you. It’s arguable which one of you loved the other more - maybe you loved each other equally, just in different ways - but it was a fact that Jungkook always took the initiative. He made the first move so you wouldn’t have to. He gave you the option to match his affection, and never have to worry about being left out to dry.

He took initiative, right until the very end.

You bite your bottom lip, then give him a curt response, “Okay.”

Your phone vibrates with a text from Yoongi but you don’t open it just yet. You look at Jungkook, who only looks back at you. His lips part slightly as he searches for the right words, or any word at all. It’s like you’re asking him to navigate a minefield when all he has to do is be honest. Even if he told you that he fell out of love with you, it wouldn’t be that bad. You would be hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t blame him. You would understand. It would be a reason.

Silence fills the room, save for the continuous tapping of your pen on paper.

He says your name, pleading. “I’m trying here.”

At Jimin’s party, Jungkook said you were someone important to him. You don’t doubt that he meant it, and that’s what infuriates you the most. You’re important, but he keeps running circles around you and making your head spin. You’re important, but everything he’s done makes you think that you’re the opposite. You’re important, just not important enough to get an explanation.

You know he’s genuine about everything he says, but that’s not enough. You can’t sustain yourself on just his words alone.

It’s another cycle of the same conversation, running over and over and over again. He’s reaching out but he’s holding back. You’re still getting nowhere. You don’t know how many times he has to make you ask this, only to not give you any clarity at all.

If there is a trait of Jungkook’s that you both love and hate at the same time, it is that he doesn’t know when to quit.

He texts you every day even when you don’t reply - one for good morning, and one for goodnight. He gets you a chai latte every day, which doesn’t do shit for your concentration because there’s not enough caffeine in it. He gets the door for you whenever you go into the same room together. He hounds your every waking moment. He makes sure that he’s the first thing you see when you wake up, and the last thought that crosses your mind before you go to sleep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

You suppose this is him, showing up again. In a lot of ways, it’s selfish. But it’s an effort too. Now your phone is full of meaningless messages that remain unread.

You barely glance at him. It’s routine at this point. He tries in ways that you don’t bother acknowledging anymore, because you figured that the best course of action is to let him wear himself out. When he has had enough of it, when he deems his efforts to be enough to absolve his guilt, he’ll stop. He has to.

But at what point does it stop?

At what point will you stop wanting to give in to him? Your mind rages wars with itself every time you feel his eyes on you, and you have to kill the urge to not turn your head and look at him too. At what point will you stop wanting to go to him and let him in again? At what point will you stop unconsciously making him a priority?

All of this, you supposed, is to say: Do you still love him?

You know that if you sit down and get to the root of it, you’ll find an answer you don’t like. Even in this moment, you want him to tell you just a fraction of the truth, because that would probably be enough to reel you back in.

Your own heart claws at your chest but this is how it has to be for a while. All you can do is take it one day at a time, gently nudge your heart in one direction like a child that needs to be goaded, until he doesn’t live on the forefront of your mind anymore.

Until someone else does.

“No, you’re not.” You stand up then, closing your notebook with more force than necessary. “If you’re really trying, then I wouldn’t still be wondering why I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

Even then, you’re still hoping that he’d say something else. But when you’re only met with silence, the anticipated disappointment in you bubbles, boiling. His reluctance to clue you in makes it easier for you to decide.

There's someone else who's willing to give you things that you don't even need to ask for.

In your mind, it's clear who you should choose.

Jungkook clenches his teeth, holding his breath as he watches you shove your things into your bag. “Are you going home?” he asks after a minute.

You could say yes and let the conversation die a swift and simple death. But for some reason, you choose to kill it violently. You bite the inside of your cheek before you tell him, “I don’t know. Yoongi’s picking me up.”

The chagrinned look that takes over his features for a split second is one that you immediately catch. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure you know how he feels about this, or maybe you still have a way of reading him somehow. Regardless of what his face tells you, he doesn’t prod any further.

Your phone vibrates on the table, the sound ten times more thunderous amidst the silence that’s befallen the both of you. You don’t need to check the screen to know who’s calling, and neither does he. When you leave, the sound of your fading footsteps ricochets off the walls. It shoots right through him.

He hears every word of that conversation ringing in his ears then. He recalls that afternoon’s sunset; it was the most beautiful sunset he saw that year, despite the sun overhead mocking him with every magnificent glint of light. He sees the look on your face when his words finally register in your mind, the Oh moment when you understood what he was saying, when the smile you wore sunk helplessly to the floor because even though you knew that love had an expiration date, you hoped your love would be the exception.

That memory fades, only to be replaced by something much worse. He sits there with Jimin’s words, echoing in his mind, reverberating around the room.

Technically, you and Yoongi haven’t been on a second date. You think.

You’ve seen him almost every night since the dinner, when he picks you up at the studio. Sometimes, you two just drive around. Sometimes, you sit by the river in the cold, eating hot ramen cups and giggling over nothing. Sometimes, he just takes you straight to your home if he has a packed schedule the next day.

These days, you see Yoongi even more than you see Taehyung. Even though he hasn’t explicitly implied that any of these outings is a date, you know you aren’t hanging out as just friends anymore.

It feels good to be wanted. The feeling is reinforced tenfold because it’s been so long that it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time in a new body, as a different person.

But even after all of that, you two can still go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. Because in a way, maybe nothing did happen. Maybe things have always been like this between you, the only difference is now you’re noticing the meaning behind his words and glances.

You two can still go back, because technically, no line has been crossed.

But tonight, something feels different. It’s colder, but Yoongi keeps you warm with all the looks he’s been giving you all night.

It feels like you’re both toeing that line right now.

You know that once you cross it, things can’t revert back to the way they were anymore.

You know that it will happen eventually, because Yoongi isn’t doing this just to half-ass it. He won’t back out, and he has made it crystal clear from the start.

Usually, this is the part where he tells you goodnight and you have to pretend not to freak out when he kisses you on the cheek in goodbye.

He takes a step closer, you take no step back.

“You know what I’m about to do, right?”

You do. You could say you’re even hopeful.

“I might have an idea…”

“Okay,” he says easily. He takes your waist in his hands and brings you closer. The way the corner of his mouth tugs upward tells you that he’s pleased, that you know what’s about to come and you’re letting it happen. Still, he asks, “Can I?”

You nod. That glowing sensation washes over you in waves.

“Words, princess,” he reminds you.

Your hands land on the lapel of his coat. “Yes, you can.”

He chuckles, and squeezes you a little tighter.

Then it happens.

The line you clumsily drew in the sand has been erased.

Yoongi is kissing you.

You’re kissing him back.

He’s soft and warm and he holds you like you’re delicate. His sincerity, you can feel it in his kiss, and it’s only a fraction of it. Regardless, there is still life that blooms this winter. Inside of you, small and fragile, but it’s there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling completely limbless if not for him holding your body upright. One of his arms wounds itself tighter around your middle while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek more easily. Yoongi tilts his head further to one side to deepen the kiss. You feel something in his kiss that you have never heard in his words, something soft and pleading. Wanting but still contained. Out of fear that you might run away, perhaps? You can’t blame him though. You are a bit of a flight risk.

The wind dances past like a nosy bystander, pressing you further into him like it wants you to be more sure in the way you move, in how much of yourself you’re willing to give to him. Instead, the cold just makes you shiver.

When you break away, his hand on your face moves to hold the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t look half as flushed as you think you do, though his cheeks are slightly rosy.

Through a thin veil of clouds, the moon still shines down on his profile.

The chill in the air, the mesmerizing view of moonlight dancing across his features, and most of all, the way you’re still lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up,” he says, after you stay silent for a beat too long, hooded eyes basking in the warmth of a heart chasing your own. You want to want him. You do want him, but there’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but for now, you try not to dwell on it too much. Just let it be. Maybe in time, that void will inevitably fill.

Yoongi holds your hand through the lobby and on the whole way up even if neither of you says anything, just shy glances in the elevator and bashful half-hidden smiles. You don’t invite him in once you get to your door - because an invite now insinuates something that you just aren’t ready for - but he does kiss you again. If the kiss you shared downstairs is a proper goodnight kiss, then this one means see you later and doesn’t last half as long, but it makes you tingle just the same.

He pulls back, only to dive in again, and again, and again, until one chaste kiss turns into five and you have to push him away with a giggle so you can breathe.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes still set on your mouth. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yoongi,” you say, a little breathily, like oxygen hasn’t sufficiently made its way into your lungs since downstairs.

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’ve never said my name like that before,” he sighs.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you again.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and pretend to consider this even though you know you would like to be kissed again. “Maybe I do,” you say after a beat, bravely. “Just one more.”

He gives you your final kiss of the night then, one that lasts a second longer than the others, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You head in once Yoongi is out of sight. You lean your body against the door the second you snap the lock shut. You touch your lips lightly, reliving those moments again even though they happened mere seconds ago. You’re buzzing with excitement like a schoolgirl, every feeling coursing through your body all at once.

You’re familiar with this. It’s the stage right before every love song you listen to suddenly reminds you of that one person.

You go through your regular evening routine with a pep in your step, thanks to a certain person tonight. You take off your carefully applied makeup and take a nice, hot shower. You think the heat would help melt away the high that you’re riding - like you’ve had too much coffee to drink and now your senses are beyond heightened - but it doesn’t. Once you’re fresh and comfortable in your PJs, you still feel that jittery feeling seeping through your pores, keeping you awake. There’s a message from Yoongi that tells you he has made it home safely.

It’s still early, and you’re far too restless to go to bed. You decided to brew yourself a mug of chamomile tea, even though you don’t even like chamomile and you can’t remember why you even have it, but they say that apparently chamomile is good for sleep. You decide to take the mug into the living room to sort through your mini mountain of mail that should’ve been dealt with days ago.

Sitting underneath that pile of junk mail and letters addressed to the previous tenant even though you’ve lived here for nearly two years, is a cream-colored card addressed to you. The material feels smooth under your fingertips, like velvet if that’s even possible. Inside, there are two names - one you recognize and another you don’t - typed out in a fancy calligraphy font and encircled by pretty flowers, all pinks and whites and romantic.

The saccharine sensation associated with the thought of Yoongi dissipates instantly. Instead, your mind blanks, only to buzz to life again momentarily with a newfound sinking feeling dragging you down.

You suddenly realize that Jungkook hasn’t crossed your mind once tonight. Not until now. That crestfallen look in his eyes from the other night appears in your mind again, clear as day.

You are, quite literally, holding someone’s declaration of love and yet, it’s not joy that you feel, having been asked to join them on their special day.

You never thought you would see Jungkook’s family again - even though you always adored his parents and you felt that they loved you too - let alone receive an invitation to his brother’s wedding.

remember when y'all said u wanted a wedding?? well u didn't say whose wedding 😌

717 notes · View notes

mrzombielover · 3 years ago

Text

soap nsfw alphabet

prepare for some more headcanons while i take some time to write actual fics :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he strikes me as a guy that will just fucking conk out immediately after. if you want to clean up you gotta move fast before hes dead asleep and holding you in a death grip.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he’s pretty neutral about himself, not really insecure but not the most vain. i bet he likes his arms and hands, he’s a strong guy and likes his mooscles plus he enjoys being able to manhandle you. also proud of his leg gains

on you he likes your hair. he thinks it frames your face real prettily and loves how it smells. will start using your shampoo and conditioner to your dismay

other than that hes an ass man, so that’s probably high on his list too

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

doesn’t have a particular preference for where he should but one time he pulled out and came all over your thighs and ass and he’s not gonna let that image go any time soon.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

chronic panty stealer. i cant really imagine him being ashamed of any kinks or anything but this is something you might not need to know about for a while. he kept a pair hidden in his barracks and freaked the fuck out when ghost almost found it. he returned them later that day

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

one of the more experienced of mw characters, he’s had a few girlfriends and random hookups once in a while but pretty standard

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

prefers intimate positions with lots of skin to skin contact and eye contact. you cant go wrong with classic missionary, but he’ll bend down with his face close to yours and hold you against him. also likes when you wrap your legs around his waist.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he def has the capability to be silly and goofy and perhaps a tad whimsical. to him, sex with his partner is about making you both feel good and he can be laid back and crack some jokes if the mood is light. not that he can’t be serious, but he likes laughing and not taking things super seriously

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

pretty hairy guy, he’s very clean and i imagine he’d keep things trimmed but i cant see him shaving lol. i bet he has a super sexy happy trail too. pubes are brown and curly like his hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

surprisingly romantic- in his own weird way. he can be traditionally romantic, too, if the situation calls for it like on an anniversary or smth.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

tends to quite often when you’re not there, he gets wound up very easily and uses it as a way to let off some steam, and relax before bed

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

usually p vanilla but there are times where he like to step it up. he’s def a switch so when you take the reigns it gets him all excited.

also likes blindfolds, on him and you. just thinks it’s sooo hot how it heightens your other senses and makes you extra sensitive.

the same can be said with temperature play- ice and wax. the different sensations get him so riled up and he loves the little gasps and whimpers it elicits.

Again both of these can be done on him or you this guy is the biggest switch ever.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

prefers classic bedroom, it’s private, comfortable, and you can really go all out without worry. unfortunately, neither of you are home very often, so the showers or barracks are the most common places.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

honestly everything you do. it doesn’t take much to get him going, he has a pretty high sex drive. watching you concentrate on something just gives him the insane urge to annoy you and ruin your concentration, and even more so if you’re actually doing work. especially working with your hands in some way

watching you get ready is another one, smth abt the contrast between how you look in your gear vs all dolled up really does it for him.

basically anything you do

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

hes a very clean guy, hence the nickname. not into piss or blood or a ton of dirt and grime. granted he might find it hot if you’re all sweaty and nasty from a workout or mission but that’s a very specific circumstance. this makes shower sex fair game.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

likes giving and receiving, again sex and making eachother feel good is very important to him in relationships. he can give very enthusiastic head but he’s def not gonna turn down a bj

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

tends to go pretty hard. hes a strong, big guy who can manhandle you and hold you down if needed, and usually goes at a pretty deep and rough pace. can always slow down if you need it tho hes so sweet at the same time

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

though he likes the convenience, especially as you’re both busy people, he much prefers when he can take his time with you and properly go multiple rounds

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he can be real cheeky and smug, loves teasing you in semi-public situations. he’s down to experiment, mostly to have fun. doesn’t mind doing it if there’s a slight risk but wouldn’t wanna do it like in public

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

absolutely insane. from how much he works out to his relatively clean diet to his high test levels he can go for a while. tends to bust a little prematurely but he makes up for it in how many rounds he can go

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

doesn’t use them a ton but he def sees them as an ally, not a threat. prefers using them on you but he’s not opposed to them being used on himself aswell

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

very much so, but he also enjoys being teased. if you’re in a meeting he’ll love to have a hand on your thigh trailing dangerously high while you’re talking, trying his hardest to break your focus and embarrass you

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s def on the louder side, not afraid to be whimpering, groaning and grunting all in your ear and it’s so fuckinf sexy he reminds me of those memes like “other dudes be afraid to moan in bed but i’m in my girls ear like”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

has threesome/gangbang fantasies with you and the guys from 141, but he would literally never say anything to any of the guys nor you cause he’s worried about making things awkward with them. he could maybe maybe consider asking ghost

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

oooh do i have thoughts abt this 😭😭

so very thick and long. not the biggest (my man könig) but it’s very substantial. 6-7 inches hard and if the length doesn’t get you then the width WILL it feels like you’re getting SPLIT. base color #a95840 with a slightly lighter and redder tip

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

very. it doesn’t take a lot to get him going and on a good day he can go 3 rounds. whenever you’re in the mood, he’s in the mood and ready to go.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

as previously stated after he busts you got like 2 minutes before he’s knocked the fuck out and probably pinning you down with him. he can’t help it he’s so content and warm and he’s just gonna wanna take a nap

+ i plan on doing the rest of 141 and könig versions too :)

#soap x reader #fuck we as a fandom need to decide which tags to use #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod x reader

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milestonekestrel · 2 years ago

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Garten of BanBan Rewrite:

The Story and Stuff

Right, so I should probably write down the actual story. It’s not fully fleshed out this is just like basically how it goes.

So there’s three chapters(because we pretending this is a book lol), excluding the prologue and epilogue.

The prologue would open with mc driving on a Highway, it’s about midday, and text appears on screen giving you some nice exposition. That basically just it, you’re introduced to mc, his self-hate, and his mission and it’s purpose. That’s about all you need. If this were a real game/comic or something the main story would be mixed in with flashbacks, because i am not intelligent enough to convey his backstory a different way /lh. Things like you’d learn he almost drowned as a kid and is scared of water, then flash to the present where he’s in a flooding room, that kind of thing, Y’know?

Anyways the first chapter is dubbed, “Return To Hell” because I thought that sounded kinda cool. It’s all about him exploring the main floor of the Garten and then some of the underground parts, just to like introduce you to the setting and things.

Also the reason mc went back to the kindergarten is that he used to be an employee and there have been a lot of recent disappearances documented from the town around the kindergarten, and he knows what was going on there and it’s not hard to guess what’s happening. So he takes it upon himself to destroy the mascots before they hurt more innocent people. Something something self-punishment something something repenting for past sins.

And so the first chapter would end with Mc getting conked in the head by BanBan and being taken deeper into the kindergarten. So the second chapter would start with mc discovering he’s trapped on a gurney and trying to find a way out. But something distracts him. woah!! Another human!! Yeah he meets a girl who’s also trapped there, she’s actually a mother of two who’s going through a divorce and trying to get custody of her children, but none of that matters because BanBan rips her heart out a little bit later, after BanBaleena tries to take MC’s. And then BanBan tricks BanBaleena with it and tears her apart, so like, the heart also went to waste. Rip. 😭

Anyways Mc escapes and then like not much other events are planned out in the timeline, like Mc gets trapped in a flooding room where he has to face his fear of water, and then also gets attacked by Stinger Flynn and almost drowns. And then NabNab attacks Stinger Flynn who gets killed when they break a hole into the room’s wall and it drains completely, with NabNab escaping back to the water before he also dies. But this isn’t planned out in the timeline of events so it’s just kinda there right now.

Onto chapter three, which ends with the final face off against BanBan in the main Givanium mining cave, or “The Cavern”. This fight is actually split up into two parts, part one, which takes place earlier after MC confronts BanBan about him being a monster, which ends when Mc imbedding his axe into BanBan’s chest, causing him to run away. Mc then has to run because sheriff toadster shows up and he is defenseless against him. The fight resumes after Mc finds his axe and follows BanBan into the cavern, where epic fight ensues.

Mc gets beat the fuck up but so does BanBan, who is also having several mental breakdowns. /j. Anyways, BanBan finds himself in a position to kill mc, but before he can, mc swings his axe and pretty much decapitates BanBan. Rip big red guy, no one liked him. Mc knows he’s not going to survive much longer because of his injuries and calls Brooklyn, his bestie, to hear him one last time. Mc accepts his death and then dies, succumbing to his injuries. Mc is actually satisfied with dying because hey, he wasn’t that great, but at least he got to do one good thing before he bit the dust.

Several hours later, Brooklyn arrives and witnesses the aftermath of everything that went down, and mourns MC, burying him outside the kindergarten. The end.

That’s basically what happens, gonna flesh it out as I go along.

#garten of banban rewrite #garten of banban #Brooklyn Crawford #BanBan #Main Character

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trektraveler · 3 years ago

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Nightingale Chapter Thirteen: Broken Pieces and Jagged Edges

Summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage.

That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Jensen x Reader, Jensen x You

Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Misha Collins, Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Drowning, Fluff, Angst, Smut, unprotected sex

Chapter Thirteen: Broken Pieces and Jagged Edges

Word Count: 6966

Author’s Notes: This is a complete work of fiction about a real life person. The circumstances are totally made up and are in no way a commentary on the fantastic Jensen Ackles or his family.

This is also a unique reader insert story as I have given the reader a physical description including hair color, eye color and body type. Hopefully you can still lose yourself in the utter fantasy where Jensen is the hero and you are ripe for rescuing!

Additional Notes: The response to this story has been beyond my expectations! You guys have been the best! Thank you for continuing to read my work and encourage me, its kept my eye on the prize :)

Additional Additional Notes: I feel the need to reiterate that this is fiction and in no way is a reflection on real life people. Jensen's Ex Wife in this fic is not nice. Ex's are ex's for a reason and aside from physical appearance and name, the Danneel in this story bears no resemblance to the RLP. Fiction is just a place to lose yourself for a while, not a place to hurt people.

Series Masterlist

“Oh, so you’re alive! I thought maybe you wasted away, and your cat was eating the face off your decomposing body.”

“Hi Maddy,” you deadpanned, opening the door wide so she and the twins could enter your apartment. “Hi munchkins.”

“Hi Y/N,” chirped Casey, instantly running off to explore.

“Your cat eats faces?” Chrissy’s brow puckered with worry.

You reached down to pick him up and rest him on your hip, “I don’t have a cat. Your face and all your other body parts are safe here, buddy.”

“Well, it’s clean,” Maddy said as she peeled off her coat and gloves. “In a sad, divorced dad living in a motel room, kind of way.”

“Glad you approve.”

She cast a critical eye around the bare bones dwelling, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

You set Chrissy down so he could play with his sister who had discovered your stethoscope and blood pressure cuff in the bathroom cabinet. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you were going shopping?”

“We came to pick you up; you’re coming with us.”

“I’m not fit for public appearances.”

“Not looking like that, you’re not,” she agreed.

Your shadowed eyes looked away on a sigh and Maddy grabbed your hands. Coaxing you to look at her. When you did, she gave you a sad smile.

“Come on. Wash your face, change your clothes, and grab your coat. Let’s go stimulate the economy.”

It was just a few short days before Christmas and after seeing your pitiful apartment in person, Maddy insisted on decorating for the season. Hours later, you had hit every shop conceivable and put a hefty dent in your bank account. The twins conked out on your bed while you and Maddy put up your new tree in the corner of your living room.

Several strands of lights and a few ornaments made a hell of a difference. There were wreaths, stockings, garlands, and ribbons. It did have that fresh out of the box look, but it still warmed everything up to the point that it wasn’t so painfully vacant.

“I ran into him yesterday,” Maddy said, as she wrapped tinsel around the tree. “He looked like shit.”

You nodded, listening as you tried to focus, placing the glittering star shaped ornaments on the branches.

“He offered to help carry my groceries, like nothing had even happened!”

“He’s a good man.”

“I hate him, and I told him to get bent,” Maddy spat, pouring each of you a hefty serving of spiked eggnog.

You accepted the drink with an arched eyebrow.

“Alright, I didn’t, but I really wanted to. He deserves it!”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s hurting just as much as I am and hating him won’t fix it.”

Maddy took a large swallow of eggnog and added another shot of brandy for good measure. “He was going to ask about you. I could tell, it was written all over his face, but I bolted as soon as the elevator doors opened. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.”

“I appreciate your solidarity, but you don’t need to alienate yourself from your neighbors on my account.”

“How are you so balanced about this?

“I’m applying for sainthood,” you shrugged.

“We should be raging!” Maddy shook her fists for emphasis. “Drinking regrettable amounts of tequila and swearing off men while listening to Taylor Swift!”

“I don’t really like Taylor Swift.”

Maddy shook her head in despair, “You’re in worse shape than I thought.”

You plopped down on the couch, which immediately sagged sadly under your weight. “I don’t want to rage. There are so many things about this that don’t make sense. But at the end of the day, it comes down to trust. I’ve lost his trust, whether it was my fault or not.”

“It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

You drew your legs up under your backside to make room for Maddy to sit beside you. “Jensen’s been burned before by people who had an ulterior motive. People in that industry are inundated with it all the time. Everything is fake. Not to mention his cheating ex-wife.”

“You are not her,” Maddy insisted, sinking down on the vacant end of the couch. “He must know that.”

“I thought he did. Oh Maddy, you didn’t see the look in his eyes. He was devastated. He looked at me like I had betrayed him just like she did.”

You felt like crying as the familiar tightness started in your chest, squeezing your heart. But you’d spent so much of the past week in tears that you doubted you could produce another drop at this point. And you’d promised yourself that you wouldn’t. You needed to get on with it. You still had a life to live and that was why you invited Maddy and the kids over. Nothing like a kickass mom to kick your ass when you needed it.

“You did the right thing, Y/N. You did,” she nodded for emphasis. “Sacrificing your self-worth won’t cure his trust issues. It doesn’t work that way.”

“I know, I know,” you whispered. “But why does doing the right thing feel so shitty?”

“Because you’re in love with him.”

You nodded and Maddy suddenly yelped. Jumping to her feet while rubbing her ass cheek. A rusty spring was sticking up through the cushion she had been sitting on.

Maddy gave you a disgusted look, “New couch, first thing tomorrow.”

Jensen was at his parent’s house for exactly twenty-seven hours before he made his escape. Going home was always a balm for him. He reconnected with his family and could leave his public persona at the door. Not the case this year. There was paparazzi waiting for him at the Dallas airport, a few of them even followed him to his old neighborhood. They only retreated after they encountered the security enforced at the gated community.

He was greeted at the door by his mother and a pile of Amazon boxes. The gifts he’d ordered over the past few weeks, many of them for you.

“Sorry honey, I didn’t know which ones to get rid of.”

He felt so alone despite being surrounded by friends and family. It was as if their presence accentuated the one person who was glaringly absent. God, he missed you! The term heartbreak was literal, there was this ever-present ache right in the center of his chest. Sometimes it hurt to even breathe! Just a word or a glance, a commercial on tv, a song on the radio. Everything reminded him of you, and it hurt like hell.

After he’d had his fill of endless explanations and pitying looks, Jensen pulled a baseball cap down over his head and borrowed his brother’s truck. He wasn’t even sure where he was going until he saw the flickering neon sign advertising cold beer and bottomless wings. It was just the sort of hole in the wall Dean would have loved.

“What would Dean do?” Jensen muttered as he pulled into the parking lot.

He knew from previous experience that it was only a temporary solution, but it would do for the moment. The moment, turned into days. It wasn’t the alcohol that helped as much as the strange surroundings. He didn’t want to be home, any home he had felt wrong now because you weren’t there. It was like you’d taken that with you when you walked away from him that night. Or perhaps it never really existed. Like so many things about you… it simply wasn’t real.

It was Jensen’s last night in Texas. In the morning, he would head back to Vancouver where he could lose himself in his work. God, did he need something positive to focus on. Something besides himself! He’d spent the last three weeks as a permanent fixture at table number five and even he had to admit, a good drying out was in order.

“Buy a girl a drink?”

He was pulled from his brooding thoughts by a voice he hoped to never hear again. He didn’t even bother to look up.

“Buy it yourself, you’ve got plenty of my money to do so.”

She was just as he remembered. Her red hair was highlighted this time and longer. Probably those fancy extensions she liked so much. Tanned skin and pucker perfect lips. The living embodiment of the Hollywood standard.

Her dark chocolate eyes were expertly accentuated by smokey liner, yet they held no warmth. She smirked as she sat across from him and he wondered how in the hell he had ever been attracted to her.

“Leave.”

Danneel signaled to the bartender and sighed, “That’s no way to talk to your amicable ex. I thought we were on decent terms.”

“Yeah, I live my life and you crawl back to yours. Why are you here anyway? This place doesn’t even have Wi-Fi.”

“It’s not my usual style, but I was in town visiting a few friends and heard you were around. Thought I’d swing by and wish you a Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Jensen intoned. “Now get out.”

The bartender dropped off another pitcher of beer along with an extra pint glass. With deliberate movements, she poured herself a glass and topped of his. After a moment, she sighed. “I came to apologize.”

Jensen’s brow furrowed, as he watched her blood red manicured nails tap the side of the pint, “For what?”

“For everything. For how things ended between us, for the affair.” To his astonishment, tears pricked those cold eyes. “It was my fault, all of it. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I was hoping you could forgive me.”

He certainly wasn’t expecting that. Danneel wasn’t known for her humility. He used to see it as confidence and strength. Now it seemed arrogant.

“Seriously?”

“I am so sorry, babe. It was the biggest mistake of my life and…” she reached across the table and grasped his hand. “I regret it. Every day. If I could go back, I’d do so many things differently. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

It was then that he saw the seams in her veneer. Danneel was an actress or had been at one time and after nearly a decade married to the woman, he knew her tells.

“I miss you. I’d like to become friends again.” She cocked her head and gave him a sultry look he knew well.

“You want to get back together.” Jensen breathed.

“It wasn’t all bad, was it? We can try again, get it right this time.”

Her foot gently nudging at his leg under the table, “We were good together, we could be again.”

He barked out a laugh. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Danneel never did react very gracefully to not getting her way. Her confidence slipped from her features, and she sneered.

“You arrogant son of a bitch! You’re turning me down? You? You’re an over-the-hill pretty boy who fell ass backwards into a leading role! You’ve got nothing without that show and as soon as it ends so will your so-called career.”

Suddenly, Jensen was thrown back into the exact same feelings he’d had when he walked in on her cheating on him. Back to every belittling conversation they’d had. Back to every snide remark she’d made in front of his friends and family. She cut him down in a million ways and he felt so low about himself that he never recognized it for what it was. Abuse, no matter how you sliced it.

You deserve to be loved. Completely and totally. Every day.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You got that right,” she spat.

For the first time since that awful gala, he felt you beside him. He was a stronger person and a better man for the time he spent with you. That relationship with you; no matter how brief, no matter how it ended, made him better. And he didn’t have to lose that just because he lost you.

“I deserve better.” He looked his ex-wife squarely in the eye for what he was sure would be the last time. “You cheated on me. You used me for my money and my connections. You never loved me, half the time you didn’t even fake it. And that’s on me for sticking around when I knew it wasn’t right. But I’ll be damned if I’m ever going back to that life again.”

Danneel was practically sputtering when Jensen got to his feet and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet. “Drinks on me.”

He turned on his heel and walked away from her for the second time in his life. And this time, he knew it would stick.

It took you six more weeks to complete your internship at Vancouver General. After a final round of tests, McMillian put you back into your regular rotation as a doctor in the ER. Tony wanted to ease you into it, but as they were short staffed you were back up to your normal workload in short order.

You easily fell back into the rhythm of hospital life. The fast pace and variety of challenges in the ER kept you on your toes. Being a doctor again gave you a purpose. You helped people in measurable ways, and it felt good. Your days off were mostly spent with Maddy and the kids. Occasionally, you met up with Kimmy for coffee but aside from that you had no contact with anyone from your time with Jensen.

It was as distant as a dream, making you wonder at times if it had been real at all. It was in your dreams that you saw him. The nightmares with the little girls were not as frequent, probably because you made a point to exhaust yourself every day. But you did see Jensen. Green eyes crinkling as he smiled just for you. His hands wandering as your body arched to his touch. You dreamt of the cabin, of hot tubs and cowboy boots, Netflix marathons, and singing cheesy county songs. You hated going to sleep because waking up and finding yourself alone was a new kind of torture.

Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost had never lost the love of Jensen Ackles.

There were times when you wished you could just lose your memory all over again, at least then you wouldn’t have to live with knowing how good things could be. You could live in oblivion and maybe then you could get a little peace.

“Hey, Gabby!”

Your head shot up from your phone as the elevator doors opened, you still weren’t used to hearing people address you by that name. “Oh, hey Val. How’s the pathology lab treating you?”

“Brutal. I’ve got a stack of paperwork waiting for me after lunch plus that new guy in cardiology is on my ass for a blood panel he ordered less than an hour ago.”

“You’ll rise to the challenge.”

“Always do,” she smiled and hit the button for the cafeteria. “You know, I’ve got tickets to that Supernatural convention next weekend. My roommate can’t go, and I know how much you love that show.”

You kept your features schooled; this wasn’t the first time Val had tried to pump you for information on Jensen. After the TMZ article leaked, she was the first in line to try and get the real story from you. Most of your collogues were professional enough to not press you, especially at work, but Val was persistent. You never gave her an inch.

“I’ve got overnight shifts that weekend, but I’m sure you’ll find someone to take you up on your offer. It’s a popular show.”

“True. The convention sold out super quick this time… probably because people are wanting to hear Jensen talk about his wife.”

You frowned and couldn’t help from asking, “His wife?”

“Oh God… didn’t you hear? They got back together! The whole fandom is up in arms about it. She’s always been a little stand offish and was rude to fans back in the early days.” Val explained in that airy, gossipy way she had about her. “I doubt he’ll say anything about it, but maybe! You know, if he has a few drinks in him.”

The elevator doors opened, and Val stepped out, not waiting for your response. You stopped off at the locker room to change into your scrubs. Once you were alone, you opened your phone and against your better judgement, you found the story.

Jensen and Danneel Ackles spotted at local bar. Despite finalizing their divorce last year, the longtime love birds were seen getting cozy during the Supernatural star’s last trip home. Insiders say they are on track to recapture the romance as soon as the CW series wraps.

You stared at the picture of them, obviously taken from another table and not posed. They were leaning close, talking. It could have been a normal conversation, you supposed. It didn’t necessarily have to be romantic. You knew firsthand that the press didn’t operate with integrity. But given what Jensen told you about that marriage and how it ended, you couldn’t fathom why he would give her the time of day at all!

Your first instinct wasn’t jealousy, it was worry. God! Was he hurting so bad that he went back to her? Back to the woman who broke his heart and eroded his self-esteem? Your mind went through the rolodex of people you could ask about it. In the end, you came up blank. There was no way it wouldn’t get back to Jensen. He was so angry with you that it would likely push him even further into destructive behavior. You just had to hope that Jared and other good people around him would help keep him balanced.

It hurt to see him. Even a slightly blurry cell phone shot of the back of his head. You missed him terribly. Most days, you were good at leaving your personal life at the door. That was one of the blessings of your job; you could let it consume you completely and it just made you better at it. But today, it just stayed with you.

Unfortunately, your shift wasn’t a busy one. Not that you wanted people to be hurt, but what you wouldn’t give for a kid with a broken arm right about now!

“Doctor Baines,” one of the nurses came up and handed you a clipboard. “Exam room two, male aged fifty, chest pains.”

Your eyes darted over the papers as you made your way across the ER. All typical baseline information, weight, age, height and the name. You stopped in your tracks. Son of a bitch!

“And the hits just keep coming.”

Clif reclined on the exam bed. Despite already being stripped out of his street clothes and dressed in a flimsy hospital gown, he was planning his escape. “This is a damn waste of time.”

Jared clamped a hand down over Clif’s shoulder and forced him to stay put, “We are not going anywhere until the doctor takes a look at you.”

“I’m telling you, I’m fine,” Clif grunted as he shifted uncomfortably.

“Keeling over in the middle of the day is not fine. And chest pains are on the short list of things you don’t ignore.”

“Jared Padalecki, ever the voice of reason.”

The two men looked at you in complete surprise as you entered. Every inch the professional; starched white lab coat over navy blue scrubs, hair pulled back in a ponytail and your id clipped to your lapel.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Clif muttered while Jared rose from the cramped chair next to the bed.

“Y/N,” he pulled you into a quick hug.

“Good to see you too.” You gave a tight smile to your patient who glared in return. “So, what brings you in today, Mr. Kosterman.”

“No way in hell I am talking to you,” Clif grunted while a grimace of pain crossed his face. “Get my pants, Jarpad, we’re out of here!”

“Severe chest pain, shortness of breath, elevated blood pressure, sweating.” You tossed the clipboard on the foot of the bed. “There’s not a chance I’m going to let you walk out of here exhibiting symptoms like that. I know you hate me, Clif. And you don’t trust me, which is why I’ve called Doctor Evans for a consult.”

Clif frowned up at you, “Who the hell is Evans?”

“Chief Cardiologist.”

“Come on, man. Let Y/N check you over,” Jared begged.

Clif rolled his eyes but settled back with a grunt. “Have it your way, ya moose.”

It was amazing how agreeable people could be when they were scared and in pain. No matter your personal feelings towards him, you genuinely wanted him to be well. Tony McMillan had been right when he said healing was your calling. You couldn’t imagine denying help you knew you could provide.

Clif allowed you to conduct your examination and by the time Evans arrived, you had your diagnosis.

“Indigestion?! Are you kidding me?” Cliff bellowed at the two of you.

“The symptoms you experienced mimic those of a cardiac episode, but I have to agree with Doctor Baines’ assessment.” Evans was a mild-mannered man with the patience of a saint.

“Now, I would like to schedule you for a stress test just to rule out any potential for future attacks and start you on gastrointestinal friendly diet as soon as possible.”

The look of disgust on Clif’s face was comical. Low sodium, low fat, minimal red meat… a fate worse than death. You hid your smile as you headed for the door, “I’ll just go get your discharge papers started.”

“Hey, Nightingale.”

You turned your head and caught his grateful nod. For the first time, there wasn’t hostility in Clif’s eyes.

“Thanks.”

“Any time. Hard ass.”

Jared followed you out into the hallway, “Y/N, wait.”

You knew you weren’t off the hook that easily. “Just let me get that paperwork and you can take Clif home.”

Jared’s warm, hazel gaze met yours and he suddenly didn’t know what to say. A couple of months ago, he would have said he knew you well. That you were friends. Now, nothing felt certain.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “How have you been?”

“I’m well,” was your tight reply. “You? Gen and the kids?”

“Good! They’re good.”

You looked up at him and took pity. “Jared, why don’t you ask me what you really want to know?”

He hesitated for a second then blurted it out. “Do you still love him?”

The question rang out like a shot! The bluntness of it took your breath away. So much that you couldn’t even form the words. You crossed your arms over your middle and looked away.

“He still loves you, he never stopped.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Jared…”

“I know he screwed up and I know things are a mess. He’s a mess! He’s an absolute wreck without you.” Jared appealed to you in earnest.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, unsure what else was left to say.

“Just… give him a call, talk to him.”

“He knows where I am, Jared. If he wanted to contact me, he could have done so at any time.” You couldn’t help the hint of temper that reared up. “I’m not in hiding. Nor am I changing my name and fleeing the country.”

It was Jared’s turn to glance away, “Yeah, I heard about that.”

“Why would you want to bring someone like me back into your best friend’s life? I’m a con artist, remember? I sold my story to the press for a quick buck and five minutes of fame.”

“No, you didn’t. You would never do that.”

“I wish Jensen had the same faith in me that you do.”

“He does! And as for the rest of it, there is a reasonable explanation. We just haven’t found it.”

You sighed heavily, “If he did, then he would be here talking to me, not you.”

“He was a fucking idiot to let you walk away that night, and he’s still an idiot.” Jared paused, “You never answered my question… Do you still love him?”

“Gabby?”

Your wide eyes went to the man coming up behind Jared. “Dave, hi. This is my friend, Jared.”

Jared’s expression cooled immediately as he took measure of the man shaking his hand. Good looking with a tall, wiry build. He was sporting a lab coat like yours and a pair of neon Nikes. Dave smiled and Jared tightened his grip just enough to earn a satisfying wince from the man.

“Wow! That’s some handshake buddy! Gabs, I just wanted to make sure we were still on for the Green Room tonight.”

You felt your face heat up, “Yes, of course. I’ll see you there.”

Dave grinned a mouthful of perfect veneers as he turned to leave. “Sounds good, babe.”

“You’re seeing someone?”

You hated yourself for squirming at the question. “Not exactly. He’s been asking me for a while and I… wait! Why am I explaining this to you? I’m a normal, single adult engaging in a normal adult social life. Just like Jensen is.”

“If you’re talking about Danneel, that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Oh Jared, it doesn’t matter! What we had is gone now. And I can’t spend the rest of my life mourning it. At some point I’ve got to move on and so does he.”

Stubborn to the last, Jared pressed you again, “You didn’t answer…”

“Of course, I love him. How could I not?” Your voice cracked as you headed towards the nurse’s station, “I’ll get your paperwork.”

Jensen turned his coat collar up against the wind as he strode towards the Green Room Martini Lounge. In truth, it didn’t take much for Jared to convince him to seek you out. He’d pulled his phone out several times a day ever since he got back to Vancouver, his thumb hovering over your name. In the end, he just tortured himself by rereading your past texts and skimming through pictures.

He knew he fucked up and he had no idea how to fix it. He wasn’t even sure if you would want him to, and after the way he treated you, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you further. He wanted you to be happy, even if that meant you weren’t with him. His over-protective nature doubled down on his guilt and in the end, he knew you deserved better than him.

But when Jared told him that you still loved him, despite everything, he began to hope. Then he mentioned your upcoming date and that settled it. Jensen showered, shaved and booked it to the upscale club. It was close to your hospital, that was probably why the bastard picked it. If he cared to know you at all, he’d never take you there. You hated clubs, they were too loud and the crowded. You much preferred intimate conversations in private booths.

If this asshole booked a fucking booth, I’m going to lose it!

Jensen paid the cover fee and entered. It was dark and moody, with slim, green lights outlining the bar and tables. Hence the name, The Green Room. Heavy base music pumped out of the speakers and drowned out the sea of voices. It was absolutely packed, typical for a Friday night. He scanned the room and when he caught a glimpse of your hair shining in the dim light, his heart tripped.

You looked the same. Gorgeous. Your black sweater dress was off the shoulder and framed your delicate collarbones. You’d kept the blonde, it cascaded over your bare shoulders in waves and shone like a beacon. It was still too cold for bare legs, so where the short hem of your dress stopped, matching leggings took over and disappeared into boots.

Do you like my boots?

Jensen’s mind flashed briefly on you from the trip to the cabin. His determination cemented then. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say to you, but he wasn’t leaving without you. That was just a fact.

His approach slowed as he saw a man come to your side. You turned your attention to him, and Jensen guessed that was your date.

Fucking Doctor Sexy… Dave. Whatever the fuck his name is. Slick son of a bitch!

You weren’t saying much but the look on your face could be called polite. And slightly pained. Dave’s hand was on yours, then suddenly disappeared lower while his other arm wrapped around you. Dave leaned close to your ear, and you squirmed, recoiling slightly from his touch. Jensen couldn’t hear what you said, but he saw it plain as day. No.

Dave was an absolute disaster. He had six shots before you even arrived to meet him, and he was all hands. Seriously! The man was like an octopus, as soon as you got rid of one hand there was another one right behind it! When he excused himself to the men’s room, you called for an Uber, determined to make your excuses as soon as he got back.

“Come on babe, don’t go! We’re just getting started…”

“Dave, I’m just not up to it.”

His hand found your hip and squeezed as he pinned you up against the bar. ��Don’t be like that, let’s have some fun!”

“Stop it,” you commanded, trying to get him to release you. “Let me go.”

Dave coiled his arm around you and held you so tightly it pinched. “You are not going anywhere until we get to know each other properly.”

You felt panic skate up your spine. It was a busy night and no one else was really paying attention, certainly not enough to notice that you were having a problem. And despite being completely wasted, Dave was strong and persistent. You were going to have to do something drastic if you wanted to convince him you were serious.

“Let go!” You stomped his foot hard, hoping it would prompt him to release you. Instead, he grabbed your wrist and twisted it painfully back.

“You bitch!” He spat and for a split second you were worried he was actually going to hit you. How the hell did this night go so sideways?

“Hey!”

Suddenly, you were free and stumbled backwards while Dave was on the ground clutching his jaw. Stunned, your wide eyes looked straight into those familiar, bottle green ones. You knew that you were gaping at him like an idiot but was literally the last person you expected to see there. One minute you were at risk for a black eye on a first date the next you were completely safe. And you knew you would be, you always were with him.

Jensen worriedly searched your face, “Are you alright?”

“Fuck! You broke my fucking jaw!”

You came out of your shock all at once. Now keenly aware that the three of you had caused such a disruption that everyone in the club was watching, including the bouncers. There was no time to wonder about the implications of Jensen’s presence. Without a second thought, you grabbed your coat and Jensen’s hand. You pushed your way through the people and out the door. Leaving your date bellowing on the floor.

The Uber you had the foresight to order was waiting at the curb. Heedless of the chaos swirling around you, you climbed in the backseat with Jensen and left the club and crowd behind.

You weren’t saying anything, and Jensen wasn’t sure what to make of it. You didn’t seem angry or upset. You didn’t seem happy either. In fact, you weren’t even looking at him. You stared out the window, with your leather coat folded on your lap. When the car finally pulled up in front of your building, you said a quiet thank you to the driver and got out.

Jensen followed, hoping that you would at least give him five minutes to talk to you before you kicked his ass to the curb.

You silently unlocked the door and flipped on the lights. Jensen paused in the foyer; it was almost unrecognizable from the last time he had seen it. You painted the walls a deep green gray that both warmed and calmed. You had artwork, new furniture, a television, and entertainment center. Teak blinds offered privacy. It even smelled good, like vanilla and fresh linens. You’d made it a home and while he was pleased to know you weren’t living in a shoebox, he was worried by it. Why would you want to come home with him if you’d made a home here?

“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll take a look at your hand.”

Jensen nodded as you disappeared into the bathroom. He sat on the sofa and found it comfortable. New as well. The whole apartment was inviting now, it didn’t feel sad or temporary. This was a place you’d want to stay.

When you came back, you’d removed your boots and had a first aid kit in your hands. You sat next to him on the couch and took his hand, examining the knuckles. Your touch was warm and reminiscent of better days spent together.

“Go ahead and wiggle your fingers for me.”

You watched the movements and tried not to be distracted by the freckles you saw scattered across his hand. Who knew you could miss something as tiny as freckles?

“Does that hurt?”

You hadn’t made eye contact with him until that moment and when you did, he was as struck as he was the first time. There was so much to say and yet no words seemed adequate.

“No.”

Satisfied, you took out alcohol swabs to clean the minor cuts and dabbed antibiotic ointment over them. You blew softly across his skin to dry it.

“Why were you at the club tonight?”

“For you.”

You placed a tiny bandage over the cut, again keeping your eyes on your work, “Why?”

“Jared, he ah… said he ran into at the hospital.”

“And he told you about my plans for the evening.” You looked up again, this time your eyes flashed with blue fire, hinting at temper bubbling under the surface. “You can keep your jealousy; I’ve had my fill of male posturing.”

“I wasn’t jealous!”

“I’ve been working at the same hospital and living in the same apartment for months. You made no move to contact me until I had a date and then you swoop in out of nowhere and punch him in the face! If that’s not jealousy, then what the hell is it?!”

“That’s me, dropping a douchebag who asked for it!”

“That’s me having the same poor judgement in men,” you grabbed the first aid kit and headed to the kitchen. “I hope your ego is satisfied because I don’t have any other dates scheduled.”

Jensen was hot on your heels, “Well next time try going out with a guy who knows the meaning of the word no!”

“Should I expect this kind of interference every time I attempt to have a personal life or only when you feel you have something to prove?”

“You’d rather I let that asshole assault you? You told him to stop, and he didn’t, I’m not going to apologize for stepping in. So, sweetheart if you wanna be pissed, then be pissed… cause I’d do it all again. In a heartbeat.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned fiercely. There was a time when that display of protectiveness would have made your heart swell. Tonight, it only served as a reminder of what had been lost.

You sighed as the fight drained out of you. You pulled down two glasses from the cupboard and filled each of them halfway with merlot.

“Is this what I can expect for the rest of my life? You show up once every few months to remind me of mistakes I didn’t know I was making and scare off any hope for normalcy?”

He took the glass you handed him. The pain he saw reflected in your eyes was just as raw as his own. He knew he was the cause and he hated himself for it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you here, Jensen?”

“I wasn’t going to come,” he confessed. “Not cause I didn’t want to, because God knows I’ve picked up my phone every damn day just to hear your voice. But I’m the one who destroyed everything. I hurt you so damn bad and I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I have some things to tell you so if you aren’t ready to throw me out just yet, will you give me a minute?”

You nodded mutely and sat down at the small café table under the kitchen window. Your heart had been so heavy for so long that the weight of it seemed unbearable. Now with him here, you felt both hopeful and terrified. You sipped your wine and waited.

“You know when Clif showed me those files there was a part of me that had been expecting it. Because being with you was just too good to be true, there was no way it could last. I’ve never been that happy before, I didn’t know what to do with it. It was easier to believe that it had all been a lie.”

He huffed out a breath, “I ran into Danneel when I was home.”

“I know,” you softy replied, and his eyes widened. “There was an article.”

“Where would we be without those articles?” He wondered aloud, taking a large swallow of wine. “She found me licking my wounds in a dive bar, suggested we give it another go. Get it right this time.”

“Did you consider it?”

“Not for a second. I had this voice in my head telling me I deserved better and for the first time I believed it. That’s why I’m here, Y/N. I couldn’t let you go on with the rest of your life not knowing the difference you made in mine.”

“Being married to her, I wasn’t even sure real love existed, certainly not for me. But you came along and proved her wrong, proved me wrong. I’m not going to settle for anything less, never again. You saved me, Y/N. Even if you never forgive me, even if you don’t love me any more… I just had to thank you.

Tears gathered in your eyes and you swallowed, not sure if you could trust your own voice. To your surprise, Jensen knelt in front of you and took your hands in his.

“I am so sorry I hurt you. There is nothing I can say that will ever make it right. I just want you to know that I love you. I’m never gonna stop loving you. I’ll do anything to make you happy and if that means I’m not a part of your life, then so be it. I’ll sleep well at night knowing that I’m giving you what you want.”

He was saying everything you wanted to hear, yet your heart was breaking. This beautiful man was at your feet, pledging his undying love. What more could you ask for? What more could anyone want in life?

I must be out of my mind.

Jensen watched as you stood and walked a few paces, turning your back to him. He’d lost you; it was already too late. God, he was never going to forgive himself!

“What about Miranda Tyler? Or Stephanie Jacobs?” You stomach twisted just saying those names aloud. “Rachael Scott… I still don’t have any answers for you.”

He got to his feet and shrugged helplessly, “I don’t care.”

“I do! It blew my world apart and there’s probably more. I don’t want to live in fear that another name is going to crop up and send you packing!”

He stood there, tall and true as always. Awaiting your command.

“What do you want, Y/N?”

You wanted everything to go back to how it had been before. You wanted to be oblivious to the truth, what little you had of it. You wanted to run away with him to your cabin and stay there forever, safe from the people trying to tear the two of your apart. You wanted something that didn’t exist anymore.

Your blue gaze looked away and he had his answer. He reached out and swiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, just as he had so many times before.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart. It’ll be alright.” He brushed a soft kiss over your forehead, “Goodbye.”

Jensen didn’t know where he found the strength to walk away from you, but love does crazy things to a man. He was prepared to gut himself to give you a peace that he would never know.

Just as he twisted the front doorknob and pulled, you slammed your hand against it.

“Stay.”

He stared at you; his heart laid bare, afraid to breathe. Praying to God he got a second chance he knew he didn’t deserve.

“Please stay. I want you to stay.”

You blinked back the tears and framed his face in your hands. “You. I want you. I want you…”

His mouth crashed down on yours and silenced any further confessions. You gasped as he groaned, hurried hands striping each other bare. Desperate longing. Needy passion, broken pieces, and jagged edges. Everything melded together and in the hours that followed the two of you found each other again. Your bodies conveying the truth where your words had failed.

You each gave what the other wanted, tomorrow would come the problem of how to keep it.

#jensen ackles x y/n #spn fic #dean winchester fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction #supernatural #dean x reader #dean x you #nightingale #jensen x reader #jensen x you

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