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carakook · 3 months

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Bloom. °˖✧✿✧˖°

“Yeah? You think we’re done? We’re not done.”

→ Chapters list ←

⚘6. Planting the Wrong Seed

🔞For Mature Audiences Only🔞

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⚘Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

⚘Synopsis: You prepare to go to the potluck with Seojoon but find that your day is not going the way that you planned, thanks to a certain someone lingering in your thoughts… if only you knew the shit that was going to unfold.

⚘Genre:Forbidden love

⚘Word count: 12k+

⚘Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, emotional, mentions of anxiety, mentions of sex, heavy kissing, angst, CANINE POETRY I REPEAT CANINE POETRY, religious metaphors (the story is not religious but makes references to a higher power, karma, fate, etc.), mentions of anxiety, mentions of nightmares, subtle arguing, jealousy, bullying? (Sort of, there’s a bitch in this chapter who makes cunty comments), mentions of alcohol, mentions of cooking (I know this is triggering for some people), heavy tension, cheating, mentions of cheating, mentions of falling out of love/breaking up. Let me know if I miss anything!

⚘Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

⚘A/N: Chapter 6 is out! I really hope you enjoy it. Please don’t be mad at me. 😀 lol I told you it gets dramatic. I can’t wait to keep writing, shit gets soooo messy but also some very important lessons get learned. DON’T CHEAT AND DON’T BE AFRAID TO LOVE WHO YOU LOVE OK!!! Also, men are stupid sometimes. 🥴 ok love you!!!

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↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ :

��Glimpse of Us - Joji

♪Bad Habit - Steve Lacy

♪Miss Understood - DPR Ian

♪Hopelessly Devoted To You - Olivia Newton-John (this one is VERY important)

♪Cop Car - Mitski

♪I Bet On Losing Dogs - Mitski (again)

♪Love Me Again - V

♪I LOVE YOU HOE - Odetari Ft. 9lives

✧━。゜✿ฺ✿ฺ゜。━✧

Unfortunately for you, when you wake up after your not-so-peaceful slumber, you have this feeling deep down in your gut that something bad will happen today.

You wake up sometime the next morning, a bit delirious at first because you didn’t get as deep of a sleep as you normally would have. Seojoon is gone already, which isn’t abnormal. He works early mornings so often times he’s gone before you even wake. And in typical Seojoon fashion, he left a little note and cup of coffee that he picked up for you at the convenience store across the street before he left.

You pick up the note and your coffee, take a sip as you read it;

Went to work, text me when you wake up, and don’t forget about tonight.

-Seojoon, aka your boyfriend :)

The usual note he leaves… except the sign off leaves you feeling a bit off. Because normally, it’s just his name. But this time, he added the joking ‘boyfriend’ to it. This should be considered a cute gesture, because he basically is your fucking boyfriend.

But it doesn’t feel cute. Not after the amount of times he talked about being not-boyfriend-girlfriend last night. In fact, as you stare at the note, you realize he is starting to seem bit persistent about it, but its so subtle that you didn't catch it until now.

Maybe he’s getting tired of waiting… it’s been months, so you can't blame him. But also, you can’t help how you feel, and you don’t really feel ready to add the label. So simple for most people, but for you… it’s not simple at all.

It’s like planting a fucking seed, and you aren’t sure if you want him to plant that seed yet.

You aren’t sure if you want to plant his seed, or anyone else's ever again.

It’s too early for this shit, so you decide not to overthink it. You’re off of work today, and you have to figure out what the fuck to cook for this potluck full of people you don’t know. You’re nervous enough as it is, you don’t need to overthink some silly little note your not-boyfriend left. He was probably just being playful.

You’ve become very good at denying things… pretending that you're fine when you really aren't fine. Something you haven’t realized yet.

So you get up and get yourself ready for the day. You do your skincare, brush your hair, brush your teeth, drink your coffee… a normal day, just like any other.

But you begin to realize that the feeling from last night, the same one that you went to bed with and woke up with, it lingers. That little zap feeling you felt when you dreamt, and when he left, that feeling impending doom that you can't quite shake, it's still very much there.

It’s like a little fluttering in your stomach. Something between butterflies and worms, maybe. Subtle, but there. It could be because you dreamt of him again, because you’re meeting Seojoon's friends, or because he has started bringing up making it official all of a sudden… or maybe your gut is trying to tell you something.

Nah, anxiety, surely. Not denial, not intuition… it's just a bad case of anxiety that was triggered by a bad dream. You're sure of it.

After getting yourself dressed and putting on some light makeup, you know you need to calm your shit if tonight is going to go well and be enjoyable for you and everyone else. So you make a little list of ingredients you need to cook something nice for his friends. A way to a man’s heart is food, as they say, it’ll be a nice gesture that you add to the potluck. You decide to cook two things since Seojoon probably won't have time to make something to bring himself. You'll make something sweet and something savory; chocolate chip cookies, a crowd fav, and classic American mac and cheese, because everyone loves cheese. Both things are easy to make, and you’re sure everyone will like them because they’re simple classics.

You’re totally not subconsciously making flower boys past favs. You’re totally not still thinking about him or that dream. You're absolutely-positively-totally not doing little things that remind you of him… not at all.

After you make your list, you grab your bag and wallet, send Seojoon a little text letting him know you’re awake and preparing for tonight. You know he was probably waiting on it, and he was waiting for it. He was actually anticipating you trying to make an excuse not to go tonight, so he feels a bit giddy knowing you’re actually putting not bailing on him. That's my girl, he thinks to himself when he reads the text.

The rest of your day sort of melds together. You do your best to stay on track, even as you pass the floral department at the grocery store. You linger there, looking at the array of autumn flowers that are bright, warm, and blooming... You also look at the array of wilting bouquets that are marked down in price, on sale because no one wants them...

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach down and graze the tip of one of the flowers petals. Your heart pounds so hard you swear it might break through your chest, because although it seems like such a simple and curious touch, it isn’t. You’re afraid that just like in the dream, the petals will start turning brown and dry, and the flowers on the shelf will start dying. You’re afraid that your touch is indeed poison.

But nothing happens. They merely stay in place as they did before you touched them, they don’t die any faster, but they don’t stop wilting either. These flowers are neutral to you, and your touch isn’t poisonous as you suspected it may be… not to them, anyway.

You aren’t thinking of him. Not today. You can’t. You won’t. You don’t know why it’s so hard all of a sudden after months of working on yourself, but today of all days cannot be the day that you start reliving memories and asking yourself what if I stayed?

And even though you tell yourself you won’t think of him today, you buy one of the wilting bouquets. Because you feel bad for the flowers that no one seems to want. You feel like you relate to them in some fucked up metaphorical way, or did in the past, at least. You wonder if you can nourish them and nurture them to health, much like you did a certain Bearded Iris many months ago.

Dangerous thoughts for a girl who swore she was moving on and healing just fine.

After you’re done at the grocery store, you make your way back home. You make sure to blare music as soon as you walk in the door to prevent your thoughts from becoming too loud, and you very carefully avoid any love songs that seem to try to make an appearance.

You get to work making the cookie dough, following the ‘secret’ recipe you’ve known since you were a teenager. It’s very rich, contains lots of butter and sugar, probably not the healthiest choice, but every time you make them people go crazy for them. You even won a baking competition back in school using this recipe.

If only they knew this was a recipe on the Betty Crocker website.

You mix the ingredients with familiar motions and fill up several baking pans full of little nuggets of dough. Once every pan is full and there's no dough left, you start baking two sheet pans full at a time because your oven can't fit anymore than that.

You try to ignore the memories that surface when you smell them baking.

“Please Y/N, just a little taste, bet you taste sweeter than these cookies… I need to test it, for science n’ shit.”

“No, you’ll get sick! It has raw eggs. Also isn’t that cannibalism? Kookie eating cookies?”

No. Stop. Fuck.

You make quick work of the mac and cheese after every sheet pan of cookies is finished baking. You let the cookies cool as you boil the elbow noodles and make the creamy cheese sauce, which thank god calls for intense focus, otherwise it’ll burn or become too thick and clumpy.

The mac and cheese recipe is pretty simple, it just requires your full attention up until the last step. This is a recipe you learned online as well, and so far every time you make it everyone loves it, even those who don't really like cheese.

One person specifically was very overdramatic about loving it the first time you made it for him.

“Fuuuck. I should marry you. If I marry you can I have this every day?”

“I am NOT marrying you, dummy. And you’d get diabetes. Do you know how much cheese is in here?”

“Don’t care, blah blah blah, marry me and make me this shit every single day.”

Back when times were simpler, before you knew of him being married. You wonder what would have happened if you played along, said you would marry him and make him mac and cheese every day for the rest of your lives... Should’ve accepted his offer.

You start to become irritated. Because this hasn’t happened in months. You’ve coped, you’ve moved on, you have a not-boyfriend now and you’re supposed to be thriving. Before last night, Jungkook was not consuming you anymore... whereas today, you cannot fucking shake him.

That’s what you thought, that this shit was done. Did one nightmare really fuck it all up? Or is it something deeper?

It doesn’t help that the persistent feeling in your gut continues to linger. It won’t go away and it’s fucking annoying. Like a goddamn fly. Maybe it isn’t butterflies, but a bunch of fucking flies fluttering around in your stomach making you feel nauseous and uneasy. So disgusting.

The zaps never fully went away. In the beginning, after the night he left, it was like it continued to happen after the first time. You’d have panic attacks and feel these zaps in your chest, which Sohee witnessed a few times and told you was normal when having when dealing with loss and change mixed with anxiety She recommended you see someone professional about it, but you didn’t take her advice. It was heartbreak, not a fucking psychotic break…

Ok, maybe almost a psychotic break, but it never got to that point. And with time, the zaps went away for the most part. Just like the lingering feelings he left behind. It all dimmed down to a very dull buzz that was barely noticeable.

Until today. Until last night. Until he decided to invade your dreams again like a fucking intruder.

You shake your head at yourself. Because this is fucking ridiculous. He isn’t here, he isn’t coming back, and you’re supposed to be fucking over it. For fucks sake, you’re making junk food for your new mans friends. You need to get a grip.

Ignore it. Deny it until it goes the fuck away and you forget about it. Maybe if you pretend, you won't even notice it by the time you need to leave tonight.

You finish up the mac and cheese and put it in a large casserole dish, top it with even more cheese and your garlic butter bread crumbs, and then pop it into the oven on medium heat to get all gooey inside and crispy on top. While it bakes, you pack up the cookies in a portable Tupperware container. Now all you have to do is get yourself ready.

You hope like hell you can make yourself look as good as the food, because the dark circles under your eyes are prominent even under the makeup you put on today. This is why you need your goddamn beauty sleep.

While the mac and cheese finishes baking, you fuss over an outfit in your room. It’s a potluck, so you're sure it's casual… but you don’t want to dress too up or down. Normally, you don’t really overthink these things... but again, your nerves are wrecked today. So everything feels worse than what it really is. You're overthinking things far more than normal.

After making your room a damn mess and covering the floor in failed outfits, you decide on wearing a simple floral dress that doesn’t show too much skin, but is still fun. The base color is a deep red, speckled with little white flowers all over. It’s chilly outside due to the changing seasons, so you pair it with some thick thigh high socks and boots. And of course you need a jacket.

A certain jacket that you’ve told everyone you bought for yourself as a treat, but what they can’t see is that it’s covered in an invisible purple and white floral pattern, too.

You touch up your makeup, do it as you always do, and decide to leave your hair down, but pack a hair tie in your bag just in case. You check the clock, and it’s right around 6:30 pm so you know Seojoon is showing up soon, probably in the next thirty minutes or so. You're surprised at how fast time flew today, but also thankful that its nearly over.

Fuck. You feel sick.

After doing one last onceover of yourself, you walk into the kitchen, only to freeze when you see Seojoon is already here… that damn spare key. Maybe it was a bit fast moving to give him your spare key... You were just so used to someone else having it, so you didn't think twice before offering it to Seojoon.

Funny how you gave him a spare key to your apartment but won’t be his fucking girlfriend yet.

He must have gotten off of work early today, because normally he’d be here around seven after going home to check on Simba and change out of his work clothes, but judging by his casual attire, he’s already done all of that. You’re unsure as to why he didn’t text you and let you know… or, fuck, maybe he did and you just didn’t notice. You haven’t exactly been paying attention to your phone thanks to the thoughts plaguing you tonight. You've been all over the place. You’re surprised he didn’t immediately seek you out, but then you see the look on his face… and he doesn’t look very happy.

“Secret admirer?”

He arches a brow that is disguised as playful, but the twitch in his jaw gives him away. At first, you’re confused… until you see his fingers dancing around the petals of the forgotten, wilting, bouquet of flowers that you bought at the grocery store.

You have no fucking clue what comes over you, but you have the urge to scream at him... tell him not to touch what doesn’t belong to him, tell him to get away from them as if he’s the poison. It’s totally irrational, especially when he’s the one who seems to need reassurance here. You aren't sure why he automatically jumps to that conclusion, but you don't think too much about it.

It’s that damn dream. It’s corrupting you. Fuck, maybe you’re possessed. Possessed by the ghost of Jeon-fucking-Jungkook and its causing you to nearly bite Seojoon's head off over touching some dying flowers... You don’t know, but you almost want to laugh at yourself.

You swallow your outburst before it can escape and disguise it with a weary laugh as you make your way over to him.

“What? No, I got these myself. They were on sale and looked sad, wanted to see if I could bring some life back into them.”

This irks Seojoon. He also feels irrationally about it, but sort of regrets immediately jumping to conclusions. It nearly revealed his insecurities… or maybe something deeper than just insecurity. Projection, perhaps, but he’d never admit that.

He feels less of a man knowing you bought yourself fucking flowers, especially ones as pitiful as these. He thinks if you want flowers, he should be buying them for you. He buys them for you often, it's just that you never seem very interested.

He doesn’t like it and neither do you. You wish he’d get you something else, anything else, not flowers. Anything but flowers. It's such a sweet gesture, but as you have said to yourself so many times before, flowers are reserved for someone you refuse to talk to him about.

You grab the bouquet almost protectively and walk over to the sink, get on your tiptoes to start rummaging your cabinets for a proper vase to put them in.

“Should’ve just asked me for flowers, babe. You know I’d get you anything you want... those are just so fucking ugly.”

He laughs when he says it, shakes his head and walks over to where the cookies rest. He takes one from the container and starts nibbling on it, makes a face of almost disgust because fuck, why’re they so rich?

You don’t notice the face he’s making because you’re stuck on the fact that he called these flowers ugly. They aren’t. They’re just sad. Maybe you’re being oversensitive about something so fucking mundane, but it really rubs you the wrong way that he would call them ugly just because they’re wilting.

You wonder if he’s ever thought of you similarly, considering it was no secret when you met him that you weren’t flourishing like you once were. You were recovering from heartbreak, you were as wilted as you could get... much more wilted than these discount flowers.

“They’re not ugly, just need some TLC…” you mutter under your breathe as you fill up a vase full of water.

He doesn’t respond because he disagrees. These flowers are dying, there’s no saving them, that’s why they were marked down in price. No one wants dying flowers.

No one but you.

“Are these the cookies you’re bringing to the potluck?”

You glance at him as he asks. He’s starting to piss you off, which is just making your mood so much worse, you’re already nervous and anxiety-ridden, is he really going to choose today to be picky and pessimistic about shit?

“Yeah, why? Something wrong with them?”

You try to hide the bite in your tone as you place the flowers in their new vase. You fluff them up a bit, sprinkle some plant foot into the water and set them on your windowsill, hoping they’ll get some Sun in the morning.

He snorts at your comment about the cookies and shakes his head, “No, they’re just really… sweet. But you’re a sweet girl, guess I should’ve expected that, huh?”

He’s buttering you up now, because he can tell his comments are bothering you. He’s unsure which one of you are acting extra sensitive tonight, but he silently blames you. Maybe she’s on her period, she didn’t fuck me last night so would make sense, he thinks to himself. Such a man-coded thing to think...

That’s the good thing about Seojoon though; he thinks to himself. He often closets those little comments inside of his head. You’ve yet to have a real argument. The honeymoon phase is inevitably waning, but it’s still there. He doesn’t want to ruin that… because that’s normally when the women he dates start to grow tired of him.

But he wants to keep you. His little wildflower. His little stray cat.

If you knew half of the shit he thought to himself… he has a feeling you would grow tired of him quickly.

You don’t respond to his kiss-ass comment, instead you just shake your head at him. You don't want to argue, especially when you are the one feeling butt-hurt. After fussing over the flowers, you pull out the mac and cheese from the oven and cover the top with tinfoil. You find yourself hoping that tonight passes by quickly because you’re just not in the mood to pretend to be fine.

But you must. Pretend, deny, ignore, just for a little longer. It’s just a bad day, you tell yourself. You’re just sensitive, that’s all. This isn't his fault, it's yours for digging up dead flowers.

As you put the food inside of a bag, Seojoon grabs his coat. He can tell you’re not amused with him at the moment, and doesn’t want to push it. Wants to avoid pissing you off further because he’d be so fucking embarrassed if the first time he brings you around his friends is also the first time you guys argue.

So he does as he should and keeps his mouth shut. No reason to poke the bear.

“Ready to go?”

“Mhm.”

You also want to avoid arguing, obviously. This day has been bad enough, and tonight is supposed to be fun. So you keep your mouth shut just like him.

The communication is lacking.

You both walk down to his car after you lock up your apartment, and begin making your way to the potluck. The drive is silent, other than the music playing subtly in the background. At some point, Seojoon's shuffled playlist plays Hopelessly Devoted To You by Olivia Newton-John from the OG Grease soundtrack. And of course Seojoon starts fucking belting it to the top of his lungs as he drives, putting on a whole ass concert for you to try and cheer you up.

“But now… there's nooowhere to hiiide, Since you pushed my love asiiiiide, I'm ooout of my head, Hopelessly devoted to yoooooou!”

And despite your sour mood and the flies in your stomach, it does cheer you up. It’s silly. He looks ridiculous, a grown ass man singing to you like a damsel in distress while driving. You’re thankful he did it, because your giggles are a good distraction from the lingering thoughts of the man from your past haunting you today.

You barely register the lyrics, Seojoon drowns out what the song is saying entirely with his very off-key terribly singing and the way he dramatically grips your hand like a microphone.

But if you did notice the lyrics, you’d have gotten the sinking feeling that this song is foreshadowing your night.

Thank god you didn’t notice the lyrics.

After this, the mood lightens significantly. You find yourself chattering with him along the way, making little playful comments as you always do. You’re still nervous, but you have a false sense of security now. You were just in your head, that damn dream messed up your entire day and it was causing you to nearly take it out on Seojoon. There’s nothing to be nervous about. You’re meeting new people, this will be fun. A step in the right direction to your possible relationship with him.

This is good. Everything is going to be fine, surely it will. Just a bad day.

At exactly 7:10 pm, you arrive at Taehyung's house. It’s very lovely. It isn’t some sort of luxurious mansion or anything, but it is much nicer than your own small apartment. You can tell his friends must be well off; the various nice cars parked around show that they all must work hard for what they have, which makes sense because, as far as you're aware, they're all a bit older than you. The house has a nice sized front yard, and the outside is clean looking, minimal furniture on the porch, but it still looks cozy. Doesn’t look too big or intimidating. Just a typical house for guys around Seojoon's age and status.

Makes you feel less nervous about lacking something. You’ve always thought of Seojoon as an humble guy, but his job is very well paying and he doesn’t want for anything, so you assume his friends are the same. It was a bit intimidating to think about because your job isn’t exactly bringing you riches, but it does make you happy.

You just want to impress them. Maybe a little too much. It seems silly because you're an adult who has nothing to prove to anyone. This isn't high school, you aren't here to try and fit in... but if Seonjoon's friends decide they don't like you, you may as well end it tonight. Relationships never end or even begin well if those surrounding you don't get along who you are dating... or not-dating-but-sort-of-dating in this case. That's why the pressure feels a bit much at this moment. No, you don't care what they think of you, but also, you kind of do. Because you want things with Seojoon to work.

Seojoon parks at an empty spot on the side of the street, and pats your thigh as he says, “You ready? Or you gonna make a run for it when you get out of the car?”

It’s only meant as a joke, but he really shouldn’t tempt you. He’s lucky he knows how to make you laugh.

“Don’t tempt me.”

He snorts at thatbut holds his hands up in mock surrender. He gets out of the car and opens your door for you as he always does—such a gentlemen. He would have carried the bag of food, too, but you insisted you do it. You want to make sure they know that you came bearing treats, that you made this for them and for Seojoon.

Once you get on the porch, he knocks on the door. You feel those flies in your stomach swirling around, and you wish so badly that you never thought of them as flies, because it makes the feeling a lot more intimidating. Butterflies are much more appealing than flies.

The door swings open, and you see a tall man smiling fondly at Seojoon. His smile is boxy, and you immediately recognize it as the smile Seojoon described as belonging to Taehyung. You love him already.

“Joon, come in. Ooooh and you’ve brought a pretty girl with you too!”

Of course, Taehyung knows who you are. You’re Seojoon's girl. Seojoon wasn’t joking when he said he talks about you often, always bragging about you and maybe exaggerating things a little too much in his excitement.

As you walk in, you say kindly, “Its nice to meet you finally, I’m Y/N.”

Taehyung smiles down at you as Seojoon removes his jacket, “Likewise, I’ve heard so much about you. Joon is fucking whipped for you.”

Seojoon immediately swats Taehyung on the head and gives him a scolding look. You find it funny how he seems to be embarrassed about that comment. Cute, even.

Seojoon isn’t embarrassed, though. He just doesn’t want Taehyung to say too much… doesn’t want him to slip up and call you his girlfriend before he has the chance to do it himself. Then it would be evident that he’s been referring to you as his girlfriend all this time. Can’t have that. Not yet.

“Hey! It’s true, you got hearts in your eyes n’ shit!” Taehyung gestures dramatically to Seojoon's face, and Seojoon rolls his eyes.

“Don’t listen to him, he’s being dramatic.” Seojoon retorts as he moves to take off your jacket for you.

You shake your head and subtly nudge his touch away… because you don’t want to take this jacket off. At the moment it’s like a security blanket. A warm hug in a moment when you’re feeling unsure. Safe. Safe like—

Nope. Not here. Stop.

“Ah, it’s ok, gonna keep it on. Thank you though.”

Seojoon's jaw ticks but he smiles to hide it. Doesn’t like that you didn’t let him act gentlemanly in front of his friend. But he reminds himself that you're an independent girl... even if it irritates him sometimes.

“Joonie! Ah! You’re here!”

You barely have a moment to think when you see a woman rush over to Seojoon like he’s her long-lost lover, wrap her arms around him, and hug him hard.

Oh, you don’t like that. You’ve never really been the jealous-possessive type, those feelings only occur when trust is lacking in a relationship. And as of now, you have no reason not to trust Seojoon...

But something about how comfortable she was being blatantly clingy like that really does not sit well with you.

You smile a bit awkwardly at Taehyung, who looks just as bewildered as you are in the moment, and then you turn to Seojoon and give him a silent look that says who the fuck is this?

Seojoon does look a bit tense as this woman embraces him. He hugs her back awkwardly and gives you an apologetic smile as he pulls away from her.

“Sena, hey, yeah I’m here. Brought my girl with me, too. Sena, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Sena... we work together.”

You smile politely at her as she turns to face you. Her smile looks just as fake as yours does. Sickly sweet, all teeth, but her eyes scream judgment.

It’s odd, though, because she looks so fucking familiar. You rack your brain quickly, trying to figure out where you know her from, but you come up empty. Maybe you’ve seen her when bringing Seojoon lunch or something.

“Nice to meet you Sena.”

She nods at you, reaches out and touches your jacket, which you nearly recoil from. She clearly lacks boundaries. You start to feel a bit more at ease seeing that she’s just a naturally touchy person, no need to read too much into why the fuck she just hugged Seojoon like she loved him.

“Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, Seojoon talks about you aaaall the time. I love your jacket by the way, did you get it from the thrift?”

Did you... get it... from the thrift?

Now, there’s nothing wrong with thrifting. In fact, you shop at the thrift often. It’s better for the environment, you find unique pieces, and it saves you money. Better than buying fast fashion or blowing money on shit like Gucci that’s overpriced and not as cute as the vintage pieces at the thrift.

But the way she said it... it’s not a compliment. You know damn well you’re not the only who noticed either, because Taehyung is looking at Seojoon like what the fuck, and Seojoon is looking at Sena like shut the fuck up.

What upsets you most is that this jacket is one of your most prized possessions. Will anyone ever know why? No. Absolutely not. But it’s precious to you, and you hate that she just tried to make you feel bad about it.

Regardless, you smile at her and shake your head, because you didn’t come here to cat fight with some woman who doesn’t have a filter or a sense of when to stop.

“Ah, thanks. No I didn’t get it from the thrift, was a treat for myself last autumn.”

You lie easily. You could just as easily tell her that it was a gift from someone near and dear to you, make her feel bad, but you already told Seojoon a long while ago that you bought it for yourself. Can’t get caught in your white lies.

She merely nods at you in response, reaches down to tug on one of the sleeves and you have to fight the urge to fucking backhand her for touching you without your permission again. Who does this bitch think she is?

“Oooh ok. My husband had a similar jacket last year but he threw it in the trash. Cute, though.”

Before you can even take in what she just said or come up with some sort of rebuttal, Seojoon cuts in. He gently wraps his arm around your waist and says, with a bit too chipper of a tone, "Right, well, I wanna introduce you to everyone else, Y/N. The guys are dying to meet you. It was nice seeing you, Sena."

He quickly drags you away from the infuriating woman just like that. Part of you wants to scold him for it, ask him why the fuck he didn’t say something to her or defend you. But you know in the back of your mind that he was most likely avoiding conflict just like you.

Great fucking start. You’ve met one woman, and she’s being a cunt. Surely, the other women here are nicer...

Once you enter the kitchen, he takes the bag of food from you and hands it to one of the guys, whom he introduces as Seokjin. Tall and handsome, looks almost as if he could be Seojoon’s brother, and the man clearly knows he’s good-looking, too. He seems pretty cocky but also very kind.

Seokjin waves you both off and says he’ll set the food out with the other treats so you can get acquainted with the rest of the guys. Seojoon grabs your arm, and although he’s being gentle, you wish he would stop fucking dragging you around. Again, you don't mean to be so sensitive, and you know it is most likely meant as a comforting gesture, but it's making you feel almost like a child.

It’s making you feel tense and a bit trapped... but you say nothing for the time being.

He brings you to the living room, which is very nicely decorated. Simple, but not too much. Taehyung has a good sense of style. Most of the decor is modern, black and white, but there are various pops of color around, and he has some fascinating pieces of art.

The pops of color dim a bit when you realize Sena is also in here. The spot next to her is empty, and she’s staring you down like an owl would stare at a damn kitten wandering around places it shouldn't be.

God, you hope not all of the girls here are like this... wait... where are the other girls? You take a quick look around and realize that you don't see any other woman here.

“Guys, this is Y/N, my girl. Y/N, this is Hoseok, Jimin, and Namjoon.”

Each of them wave at you as Seojoon introduces you, and you give them a polite smile. All of them are handsome guys, you’re realizing. Makes sense that Seojoon would have such attractive friends, considering he himself is attractive. But damn. They’re all so pretty.

Namjoons smile is one of the prettiest, his dimples stand out and his eyes are warm and welcoming. He’s tall like Jin and Seojoon, whereas Jimin is shorter, but looks fucking ethereal. You’re jealous of how plump his lips are, but he looks so damn sweet. And Hoseok literally reminds you of sunshine with the way he beams at you. Flowers love a bit of sunshine. You feel like you’ll get along with all of them great.

“Damn, Seojoon, she’s so pretty. No wonder you won’t shut the fuck up.”

Jimin smiles after he says it, his eyes scrunching into crescent moons as he giggles at Seojoon's disgruntled groan. The other guys join in… and you realize that you don't see any other woman here. The only woman in sight is Sena, which means the men here didn’t actually bring their partners, or they just don’t have one. You feel a bit deceived.

Either way, Seojoon lied, which you don’t like. Sure, you lied about the origin of your jacket, but that’s harmless compared to him lying about who was going to be here just to get you to agree to join him easily.

You don’t want to make any quick assumptions, though . Maybe you just haven’t met them yet. And if he did lie…. You’ll scold him later. But you have a sinking feeling that when he said the guys 'spouses/girlfriends' would be here, he meant only Sena.

“Nice to meet you Y/N, we’re all really glad you’re here. We’ve been wanting to meet you!” Namjoon says with a welcoming smile.

You start to feel a bit bad that you haven’t met them sooner, although you’re aware that Seojoon isn’t really that close to anyone here other than Taehyung. You almost hope that changes, because they all seem so pleasant so far, other than Sena. These are the types of guys you’d ask to hold you drink at the bar.

They all feel safe... similar to- Nope.

“You really are pretty, Y/N, way too pretty for the likes of Seojoon. You remind me of a sunflower!” Hoseok says. He’s only playing, but the fact that he compares you to a flower makes you feel both flattered and… a bit melancholic.

Flowers are reserved from someone else, you think to yourself again for like the third fucking time today. Irritating, flowers are everywhere, and here you are, gatekeeping them for someone who is practically dead to you. But he was being sweet and has no clue that flowers are a sore spot for you. No one does. It's sweet that he thinks of you as a sunflower when you think of him as the sun. You feel like you could easily become best friends with Hoseok.

“Ah, wow, you’re all so sweet. Thank you. I’m really happy to be here too. I appreciate the warm welcoming.”

You feel yourself become a bit shy as Seojoon drags you to one of the couches to sit down. You nearly want to slap him across the damn head when he picks the spot next to Sena, because why the fuck would he do that? Why would he put you in that position? Especially considering when he sits down, he gives you the seat next to hers, which thankfully grants a bit of space between you that you assume is reserved for her husband... but even then, she's too close for comfort. You feel like you're sitting next to a snake.

But you don’t protest because it wouldn’t look good if you immediately shunned the only fucking woman here after being here for barely twenty minutes.

You wonder who her husband is out of all the guys, because they seem far too good for her. Maybe that’s a bit harsh, but nothing about this familiar woman screams kind. She eyes you like a hawk, while in the same breathe smiles brightly at everyone else here.

Maybe she’s a pick-me sort of girl, maybe it’s internalized misogyny, or maybe she just doesn’t like you for no good goddamn reason.

“Are the two grumps still outside smoking? The food's gonna get cold. Also, Y/N, these cookies are like crack. Holy fuck.”

Taehyung breaks you away from your thoughts about the snake sitting next to you as he walks into the living room, two cookies in his hand, cheeks stuffed full, and chocolate on his bottom lip. He really does remind you of a big kid, just as Seojoon described, and it’s flattering that he likes your cookies. It’s kind of a relief, even, considering Seojoon seemed not to be a fan of them earlier. At least someone likes them.

“I’m so glad you like—“

“I know right? My girlfriend is the best cook.”

“There they are, get your grumpy asses back inside we have food to eat.”

So much happens at once that you can't focus. You’re stunned in silence because of the way Seojoon just so casually called you his girlfriend, and no one even batted an eye. They accepted it as if this wasn't new information to them.

It’s one thing to refer to you as his girl because you refer to him as your man. But he knows how you feel about the label, and he knows damn well you would tell him when you’re ready to add it. Seojoon knows that you aren't ready. And instead of respecting that, he took it upon himself to announce your apparent relationship, meanwhile none of his friends congratulated him or even really reacted to it... which means this isn't the first time he has called you his girlfriend against your wishes.

You’re so caught up in this that you don’t notice the tiny sliver of space dip beside you. You don’t realize someone is pressed against your other side on the cramped couch. You don’t smell the familiar scent of baby powder and fresh linen. You don’t hear Namjoon as he introduces you to the body next to you.

Because you feel betrayed in some way. You question if you’re being dramatic, but you don’t like that he abruptly forced this label on you. You know it may be irrational, he has a damn key to your apartment, but it's not like there's no reason you are hesitant to fully commit. He doesn't know exactly why, but he has known from the start that you wanted to take things slow and go at your own pace. He just took that from you. It's even worse because it’s the first time you’ve met his friends. It puts you in an incredibly uncomfortable position because if you deny it, you make both of you look bad.

There were signs, though... Such as how he kept bringing it up last night and his little hint in the note he left this morning. You just never expected Seojoon would so blatantly cross a boundary like this.

You tune back in when you see Namjoon gesturing to the man sitting on the couch across from you, “and this is Yoongi, he’s quiet and looks kinda grumpy, but he’s just shy. He’s really sweet.”

The man who’s apparently named Yoongi flips Namjoon off and then nods at you, “Hey." He says simply.

You try to bring yourself down from your oversensitive feelings because you don’t want anyone to think you’re being rude. But god, you’re still reeling because of Seojoon. It doesn’t help that he has his fucking hand on your thigh, either. You have been having such a hard time controlling your emotions today, and none of this is helping.

You smile at Yoongi but say nothing, because he’s already talking to Taehyung. You don’t take offense to it, in fact you’d thank him for letting you off easily if you could, because right now you don’t think you could speak with a stable voice.

Seojoon can tell you’re upset, but he acts oblivious. Because he knows damn well what he did and he knows the reason for it was wrong… He was jealous. In fact, he was jealous from he moment you both walked in and everyone was commenting on how pretty you were. He knows they were just being kind, but something about Taehyung commenting on how good those cookies were set him off heavily. Made him feel the need to be clear about what you were to him. They all know you as his girlfriend anyway, but he isn't close to everyone here... he needed them to know that he does have a claim on you, even if you don't know it yourself.

And he knows you aren’t an object to claim, but he’s only a man…

“Nice jacket. Your boyfriend get it for you?”

For fucks sake, what is it with people and this jacket tonight? And now they're calling him your boyfriend. Not fucking helping.

You come out of your silent fit and realize that someone is sitting next to you, sandwiched between you and Sena, which must mean this is her husband. And just like her, his tone is almost insulting. What the hell do they have against this precious piece of clothing? Are they Calvin Klein haters?

You’re debating whether or not to pop off at whoever this man is, but his voice makes chills run up and down your spine. Sounds... familiar. Eerily familiar.

You turn to face him, wanting to get a look at him before you say something passive-aggressive because maybe he isn't trying to be rude, but is just gruff. You also want to know why his voice sounds so familiar, why he smells so familiar, and why the flies in your stomach just multiplied by ten and something is telling you, 'Don't fucking look, Y/N.'

And the moment you look at him, you understand. You wish so badly that you could run the fuck away.

There’s no way this is happening to you right now. There is no fucking way that whoever controls fate and karma hates you this much.

It is impossible for this man to be sitting next to you right now.

Jeon Jungkook stares right at you, and it's as of time stops. His eyes aren’t as kind as you remember them, but his pupils are blown to absolute shit as he stares at you, and his nostrils are flaring with each breathe he takes.

You blink rapidly, because surely you’re hallucinating. Maybe you finally did have your psychotic break. Maybe you’re bat-shit-fucking-crazy and now you’re seeing things that aren’t really there. You almost hope that you are currently going insane.

But no. You feel his warmth, and you finally realize why you recognized his voice and that smell that is so unique to him, and why Sena seemed so familiar in the beginning.

Because Sena is the woman that you’ve been stalking on Instagram periodically to get tiny glimpses of your flower. Sena is the fence that surrounded him all that time, the cage, much like her nails are possessively curled around his bicep right now, keeping him under lock. Sena is the reason that you had to watch your flower be ripped out of your shared soil and taken away from you. So many months ago, but as you stare at him, it's as if the wound is fresh and you never fucking grieved him.

Sena is his fucking wife.

You don’t know which is more earth shattering; the fact that he is sitting in front of you right now, or the fact that he’s married to this witch.

How the fuck didn’t you recognize her sooner?

You don’t know what to do. And oh, it is so fucking ironic how he is sandwiched between you and Sena, and you are sandwiched between him and Seojoon. Such a fucking tragedy.

You may as well jump off a cliff... or play dead. Act like a fucking opossum to get out of this situation. You don’t know if you want to cry or laugh at the irony of it all, at the fact that for months you worked on getting over this man, only for him to end up right fucking beside you in your not-boyfriends group of friends.

Right when you thought shit was getting better.

Or was it? Because you had that nightmare last night. You’ve felt anxiety ridden all day. Every little thing was reminding you of him out of nowhere after months of slowly letting go.

The signs were there, and maybe the universe was trying to tell you. Anxiety over intuition is bullshit, clearly… you didn't listen. Always trust your gut.

“I asked you a question. Did. Your. Boyfriend. Get. You. That jacket?”

Torn away from your thoughts once more, you nearly flinch at his tone of voice. He sounds so fucking…. Mean. And he knows damn well your ‘boyfriend’ didn’t get you this jacket. It’s his fucking jacket. So why is he doing this?

“No, she got it from the thrift. Looks like the one you trashed doesn’t it?”

Wrong fucking time for her to open her stupid fucking mouth.

You feel like you are going to freak out. You are so overwhelmed that you can't even say anything.

Jungkook wants so badly to smirk at this. Because he knows you didn’t get it from the thrift and he knows he never threw that jacket out. Little does Sena know, the jacket he allegedly threw in the trash is the exact one on your body right now.

“Stop being so grumpy.” She scolds him, and has the fucking nerve to take the palm of her hand and push on his head like some fucking dog trying to steal someone’s food.

He doesn’t even react. That’s what’s most devastating of everything that has transpired so far, you think. Out of all that has happened in the last few minutes, this is what bothers you the most. She just subtly degraded him, which may not seem as harsh as you think, but the way his jaw ticked when she did it showed that it wasn't playful. He's used to it, which means she does shit like that often.

Which also means he can’t possibly be as happy as he looks in those pretty pictures on her Instagram.

All this time, he hasn’t been as ok as you thought. You don’t even need him to tell you; you see it in his eyes. Pupils are still dilated to shit as his eyes stay on you, but his eyes express nothing other than bitterness, loneliness, and a sort of longing only he ever looked at you with.

Fuck. You can’t breathe.

No one else seems to notice the tension between you both, or that he’s staring at you as if he’s a starving man looking at a meal being consumed by someone else. Seojoon is talking to Taehyung about something, and the guys around you are joining in, everyone is oblivious to the loud silence stretching between you and Jungkook.

The only one privy to the tension is Yoongi, as quiet as a mouse and as observant as a cat. But you don’t see it. You don’t see anything other than a dead flower taunting you the same way it does in your dreams.

It’s funny because Jungkook can see the turmoil written on your face. Even after all this time, he knows your tells so fucking well. The way your eyes continuously flutter when you blink, the way you’re picking at your nails and bouncing your leg, and the way your eyes won't hold his. He knows you’re fucked right now… and he almost feels satisfaction in it.

Because unlike you, he didn’t move on. After he left, he was a fucking mess. That first month without you was hell, and he was alone throughout it all. His wife was gone, her business trip was conveniently extended another two weeks, so he was able to blubber like a baby and break shit in fits of emotion without anyone noticing. He drank like an alcoholic to try and numb the feeling of complete despair that came with you being gone. What really tore him up, but also pushed him, was when you blocked his number.

What he didn't expect was silence. So when he woke up and re-read what he sent, he sent another apology... because no matter how badly he wished you would extend an olive branch of some sort, he would never want to make you uncomfortable. So he sat there and typed a very lengthy apology for disrespecting your wishes and ever putting you in this situation to begin with. Once he sent it, he sat there and waited for it to deliver… only for the message to turn green. Because you fucking blocked him.

He knows this was the right thing for you to do. You did not owe him anything, and you needed to move on. But god, the fact that you took away his only point of connection that he still had to you, it made him feel so out of control, so fucking bitter and sad inside.

He tried to take this as sign to do better, to move on himself. Because as you have both acknowledged many times before, he wasn’t yours. His heart still very much belonged to you, but he could never fully give himself to you. He was married to Sena. He needed to move on, too.

Your words rang in his head for days, 'love your wife more,' and he wanted to. Despite Sena being insufferable at times, she was still his wife, and he aided in pushing her away. She deserved better and he made a commitment to her for life. He needed to fucking try.

And so he did. For weeks he debated on confessing to her, coming clean. But every time he tried, she wouldn't give him a chance.

"Sena, please we really need to talk."

"About what?"

"About us. Need to get some shit off of my chest... please."

"Ugh, Jungkook, no we don't. We're fine."

That's how it went every time. He would try, and she wouldn't let him. So eventually, he decided to just keep it to himself and silently vow that he would do right by her. He would repent for his sins, cleanse himself with holy water made from his sorrowful tears cried silently at night, and he would make this right.

He wanted so fucking badly to make this right. He didn't want to be a stray dog anymore. You gave him up to the pound, and he was returned to his rightful owner. He wanted to be a loyal and loving companion to his wife. Not a stray fucking dog like he had been long before you came and stole him away from home.

He went out of his way to make her life more pleasurable and easier. Every morning, he woke up and made her breakfast, and every night even when he was tired from taking photos all day, he would make her a home cooked dinner. Did she always want it? No. She complained about it sometimes, claimed she'd rather takeout. And even though it stung, he would get her whatever takeout she wanted.

He continuously bought her things. Flowers, jewelry, sweets that were freshly baked at fancy cafes he knew she liked, new and expensive designer clothing he noticed her eyeing, anything she wanted, he would get for her. Anything he thought she would like, he would buy for her.

Along with the obscene amount of gifts he got her, he had been taking her out more. Fancy restaurants that served small and overpriced portions, but the experience was apparently worth it because of the celebrities who often frequented places like these. He took her to Coachella in LA which was incredibly last second, he dropped way too much money on that damn trip, but he knew she wanted to go and he was going to make it happen. He recreated their honeymoon on their anniversary, took her to Japan just like he did the night that they got married, tried to make it as extravagant and sentimental as he possibly could.

He never questioned her when she would disappear on work trips with barely any notice. He would go along with it, wish her a safe flight, and put his full trust in her despite the fact that he knew she was never really going where she said she was. He cheated, after all. He doesn't have the right to question her loyalty when he was the one who was disloyal. Like you, he’s good at denying things that are obvious. He tried his best to deny the fact that every time she came home from these trips, she was glowing and didn’t smell like herself.

He became more affectionate, kissed her every morning and every night, snuggled her in bed, told her how pretty she is and how much he loved her. He did his fucking best to fall back in love with her and show her that he was trying.

And to anyone else on the outside looking in, they would appear as the perfect married couple. He would appear as the perfect husband who showers his wife with love, kisses the ground she walks on, and supports her demanding career. She would appear as the trophy wife that any man would kill to have. They seemed perfect when she posted her little pictures on Instagram, or when she made rare appearances to gatherings with their friends.

But behind closed doors, it was never enough, and no matter how fucking hard he tried, he remained a stray dog. Instead of being welcome back inside once he came back home to her, he was chained to a fence and kept at arms length. He was fed crumbs of reassurance and half assed affection that was only ever given when she saw that he was unhappy. But Sena didn’t want a stray dog.

She didn't smile at his cooking the same way she did at takeout. When he bought her flowers, he would often find them in the trash. When he bought her clothing or jewelry, he never saw her wear it. When he got her sweets or coffee from her favorite cafes, she would complain that they weren't right. When he took her to fancy dinner dates, she barely paid attention to him or engaged in conversation with him. When they went on little vacations, she would get bored of him after the first day there. And when he tried to kiss or touch, she would brush him off like he was gross.

She still refused to fuck him, even when he would give her hints. This was the most challenging thing. For Jungkook, sex isn't possible unless feelings are involved. So he had to work himself up to even try to be intimate with her. It was bad enough that the thought of touching someone else, even himself, made him fucking sick after you were gone. So when he did finally manage to get a boner one night when he was a bit tipsy and trying to snuggle her in bed, he tried to reignite that flame between them.

Only for her to tell him that the she was on her period… which was a blatant lie. Jungkook knows this because Sena has an IUD that lasts up to 8 years and stopped her periods completely. She hasn’t purchased feminine products such as tampons or pads or even period panties in years. She got the IUD a few months after they married. She wasn’t on her period, she just didn’t fucking want him.

That was the day that he accepted defeat.

She fell out of love with him, it was clear. And there was nothing that he could do to make her love him again. No amount of money or pretty things or fun trips would make her want him again. And he couldn't even show her with his body either, because she wouldn't allow him.

He wanted to blame everyone. Her, you, him, god, satan, the fucking universe itself. He resented her for it, she made him feel so small and unlovable. And if he had never met you, he wouldn't have been tempted, so maybe he could have saved them sooner. And as for god and the devil, well, real or not, he’s blaming them anyway.

Most of all, he blamed himself. It’s always been him. He feels like he could have done so many things differently to keep her love. He should have never pulled away and became distant when she told him she didn’t want kids, he should have talked to her about it. He should have worked it out with her. He knows in the back of his mind that it isn’t fully his fault, it takes two to communicate and keep a healthy relationship… but when he’s alone, it is so fucking easy to take the blame for it all.

He accepted it, because he was tired. A man can only take so much rejection from his own fucking wife before just saying fuck it. And it wasn't like he could talk to her about it, because she wouldn't let him.

He knew there must be someone else, so it was only a matter of time before she left him. He wasn't going to leave her, because he had nothing to lose, did he? He already lost you, he lost himself, and he lost the woman he swore he would spend forever with. He may as well suffer and take his rightful punishment.

She wasn't a monster, and he still cared for her very much. He was not innocent in all of this, he pushed her away, too. A relationship consists of two people, and he quit communicating with her at some point, just as she did with him. He lied and deceived her, so no matter how cold she had become, or what wrong she did, he was in the wrong, too. Two wrongs never make a right.

So, he went back into the doghouse. He stopped whining and howling for her to let him in. He stopped scratching at the door and staring at her with pleading eyes. As the seasons changed and time passed, he stayed in that doghouse in the cold. He stared at the space that two flowers once bloomed together, and the emptiness of it made it so fucking obvious that you were the light that he was missing the most. Without you, there were no stars in the sky, the sun was dull, the moon was invisible, and the flowers never fucking bloomed again.

And every goddamn night he thought of you more and more. Oh, how he wished you would come and rescue him again, because if you did, he would do anything for you. He would leave her, he would give you all his money, he would jump off a damn cliff. He would so much rather be in the doghouse in your metaphorical backyard than this cold and lonely doghouse that is called home. Anything for you. Always fucking you.

When he finally relented in trying to repent for his sins, he started dreaming of you. It was as if his acceptance of you being gone brought relief and turmoil all at once. Relief, because he could finally think of you again without feeling quite so guilty... turmoil because he was thinking of you again.

His dreams weren’t metaphorical like yours, they were always very realistic. Some of them were good, and he found that on nights that he dreamed of you both living happily ever after together, the day following was a little brighter.

But the nightmares made him volatile. The nightmares were always similar. He would run into you somewhere out in the wild, you’d catch up, and then a faceless man would appear and introduce himself as your boyfriend. He couldn’t fucking stand that. He didn’t know who the faceless man was, and every time he tried to run after you, beg you to choose him instead, he couldn’t move. He would stay frozen as he watched you walk away from him again and again, but this time you were happier, you were doing so fucking good without him.

Tonight, he swears he is living this nightmare. When he walked in after smoking, and he saw you, and the heard fucking Seojoon refer to you as his girlfriend? He wanted to punch something just to make sure this wasn’t a nightmare.

You both are very similar, always have been in many ways. Because he also stalked your Instagram. He probably did it way too much. He never made a move to message you or even follow you, he respected the fact that you were stern in your decision, but he lurked. He waited and waited for you to post something new because he was dying to know how you were doing.

And occasionally, you would post. Little cryptic captions that he couldn’t decipher even though he thought about them for hours, tried to find out if they had a hidden meaning like morse code. Pictures that didn’t show your full face, so he couldn’t figure out if you were happy or dying inside like he was; there was never anything that gave away how you were doing.

Until one day, you posted a photo of you and a man. And it was like his nightmares started coming true.

No caption, just a stupid fucking red heart emoji. It was a selfie of you smiling next to Seojoon at some café and he looked at you like you held the fucking stars. And then you posted more, and more, and more, as if you were taunting him on purpose. Some candid photos of Seojoon, some more silly little selfies of you two together, but what really fucked with his head was when you posted a photo you took of a Polaroid picture sitting on your bed, a picture of Seojoon and his dog that is apparently named Simba. You captioned it ‘My babies!!!’

The Polaroid camera he left for you, no doubt. That posts mere existence nearly sent him on a goddamn rampage.

The most comical part of it all is he knew exactly who Seojoon was. Not only did Sena work with the fucker, but he was Taehyung’s friend. He was never close with Seojoon, had met him a few times on nights out when Taehyung invited Seojoon to join, and he heard vague stories involving him when Sena would ramble about work. He never particularly liked him but didn’t hate him either. They just weren’t similar enough to be pals.

He fucking hates him now.

He knew when he saw you with Seojoon, that someday, he would have to face you together. Because Taehyung is one of Jungkook’s closest friends, and Taehyung is also close with Seojoon. They worked together on a few projects, Taehyung works in marketing at an art gallery, so they often swapped ideas and collaborated on marketing ideas. Taehyung also often invited Seojoon to their bar outings and get togethers. It was only a matter of time before Seojoon brought you with him.

He was well aware of the connection. And he was fucking anticipating this day.

See, he wasn’t even going to come tonight. He planned on getting drunk and falling asleep alone like he has done many nights now. But then Taehyung told him some of the people that would be here, which included Seojoon and ‘his new girl.’ His new girl, aka Jungkook’s girl, he still stubbornly thinks. And oh, like the stray dog he is, he started fucking panting at the thought of being near you again.

So, he agreed. What he didn’t fucking agree on was Sena showing up. He rarely brings her out with him, because she’s not interested in spending time with him anymore anyway. But for some fucking reason, she insisted on joining tonight.

That didn’t sit well with him. Something was very off about it. But he couldn’t say no, he wouldn’t say no, because despite how cold she is, he won’t cast her out like she’s cast him out. Not until she forces him to. And if he is being one hundred percent honest, he doesn’t give a fuck why Sena was so persistent on coming tonight. Whatever she’s doing, he doesn’t care anymore. He’s beyond the point of caring. He has his sight fucking set on you.

He has been buzzing all fucking night knowing he would see you again. He’s been in a foul mood, everyone noticed too. He refused to say why, just blamed it on being tired from work. But in reality, it was because he was going to see you again, and he was going to see you with another man.

Hell on earth, he feels this is far worse than you leaving him… but he’s a masochist, he thinks. He was dreading it while simultaneously buzzing with excitement. He felt a rush at imagining seeing you for the first time in half a year with another mans arm around you.

He won’t admit it, but knowing he would see you again kept him going. It was only a matter of time, and he had all the time in the world to wait, even if it was for a single moment and you refused to ever see him again after that. And honestly, he knew damn well all bets would he off. He knew the moment he saw you, he wouldn’t fucking stop. He wouldn’t let you go again. He doesn’t give a fuck if you’re with Seojoon now… he needs you. In any fucking way you’ll allow it. Whether it’s a friend, or an enemy, or a stray fucking dog that circles your apartment until you finally let him inside. Jungkook has always been stubborn, but he has never been as stubborn as he is when it comes to you.

He’s a stray dog, after all. Starved of love and affection that you once provided so freely. Having the knowledge that at some point you’d cross paths again was like waving a fucking steak in his face. He drooled when he thought about it.

He didn’t expect to walk in and the first thing he hears when he sees you is Seojoon referring to you as his girlfriend. And he didn’t expect to feel so fucking resentful towards you for looking like you were ok. You definitely seemed tense, and he had a good idea as to why, but you weren’t falling apart. You were just fine. Was it truly so easy for you to move on?

There you were, sitting on the couch with another man’s arm around you while wearing his fucking jacket and chain he gave you the last time you saw each other. He fucking hates it. It feels like the ultimate betrayal, and although he knows he is so out of line for thinking this way, he just can’t help it. You wanted to move on, you have every right to, you both agreed this is what you needed.

But he’s a stray dog. And this is equivalent to seeing his previous owner loving on a dog who never knew what it was like to be a stray.

He has always been selfish when it comes to you. He knows his feelings are so fucking hypocritical, because you aren’t the only one who showed up wearing things that didn’t belong to you while with someone else, he did the same exact thing; he’s wearing the star pimple patches he stole from you that last night together. He doesn’t even have any pimples, he just likes them, and he doesn’t give a fuck if Sena scolded him for it. He wore them knowing damn well you would both be here tonight with other people, because he wanted you to notice him. He wanted you to remember.

He's so selfish for his train of thought and he knows it. He won’t even deny it… but he had been suffering this entire time, even when trying to do the right thing, yet here you are, sitting in front of him, and you looked totally fine… up until you saw him.

When you saw him, you looked like you saw a ghost. Because you fucking did see a ghost. He may have been aware of what was happening tonight, but the last thing you expected was seeing him here, too.

But even with the bitterness and resentment he’s irrationally feeling, even with the volatile thoughts going through his head, he still can’t stand to see you sitting there looking as if you wish he was someone else. Fuck, he’d do anything to just wrap you in his arms and cradle you and kiss your forehead and whisper sweet everything’s in your ear.

To fucking have you again.

But he can’t do that. And he can’t stand to see you look at him as if you wish he weren’t here right now.

Which is exactly how you’re looking at him. Because you wish so badly that he was not here right now.

“Calvin Klein is a great brand, I’m wearing them too. You have good taste.”

He winks at you, lifts his shirt a bit to reveal the waistband of his fucking underwear, which just so happens to be the pair you used to favor. They’re a light purple color, which makes his honey skin look fucking divine, and they’ve always been snug on him. The tiny flash of color brings memories back quickly, memories of you tugging on them with your teeth and trying to suck him off through the fabric. Fuck. You are so fucked.

He does this as if it’s the most casual thing in the world. Just two people who are meeting for the first time, conversing over a brand of clothing and underwear they both enjoy. He totally didn’t wear these on purpose knowing you’d be here tonight. He totally didn’t premeditate wearing this pair of underwear, or the pimple patches, or being here at-fucking-all.

It’s all too much for you. You can barely even take in the way his hair got so much fucking longer, or the fact that he looks bulkier which means he has been going to the gym more, or the fact that he smells the exact same and reminds you of fucking home. You’re having a very hard time keeping your composure right now, and it feels as if the room is closing in on you.

It’ll keep closing until you and Jungkook are smooshed together, and there will be no denying the fact that you never truly got over him like you convinced yourself, you just buried all the bad feelings.

This is what happens when you deny yourself the truth. You’re fine for a long time, until one day, something little or big can cause it all to come bubbling to the surface, and you can no longer deny it.

That is what’s happening. And you need some fucking air before you suffocate.

“I left my purse in the car. I’ll be right back.”

You don’t even look at anyone as you swiftly make your way outside. Everyone remains oblivious, and if you had any coherent thoughts right now you would probably be concerned about the fact that Seojoon didn’t even blink at the way your voice shook when speaking.

“Actually, babe that reminds me, can you go get my purse too? I left it in the backseat.”

Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. Maybe God doesn’t hate Jungkook after all, because what a perfect fucking excuse to get you alone without anyone batting an eye.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

You’re out the door before you can hear any of this. And if you did hear it, you just might steal Seojoon’s car and drive until the gas runs out, far, far away from here. But you have no idea that he’s trailing you right now, because where Jungkook may be gods favorite, god still definitely has it out for you.

You finally make it to Seojoon’s car, which is parked across the street on the curb. You place your palms on the window in hopes that the coolness will help calm your body because it feels like your blood is hot fucking lava right now.

You take deep breaths. Try to calm down the consistent zapping feeling and flies swarming your stomach that seem desperate to escape out of your mouth in the form of vomit.

You don’t like the fact that even though you felt dread when seeing Jungkook, for a single moment, the flies turned into butterflies again.

You don’t like the very sinful thoughts going through your head knowing that you now have access to him again.

Temptation is no joke, and you’re starting to question everything about the way you coped. Seeing him again surely would have fucked you up, it’s equivalent to seeing an ex who broke your heart, any other person would have probably been a bit shaken up… but this is so much worse. Because it isn’t just a passing glance or brief run in. Jungkook is Taehyung’s friend, who is also Seojoon’s friend. Jungkook is married to Sena, which is Seojoon’s coworker. They’re all fucking connected.

It is both thrilling and devastating.

“How cute that you showed up wearing my jacket while some other man’s hands are all fucking over you… does he know it’s mine?”

He doesn’t touch you, but he’s there. You feel his body heat behind you, and his palms come to rest right next to yours on the window. He has you boxed in, nowhere to fucking hide.

The lyrics from earlier come to mind, the lyrics that were very easy to ignore when Seojoon was terribly singing them:

‘But now there's nowhere to hide,

Since you pushed my love aside,

I'm out of my head,

Hopelessly devoted to you.’

Oh, how fucking fitting.

You don’t know why he’s doing this. He’s being kind of… argumentative. Unfair. Fucking childish, really. He’s never acted like this before… then again, time has passed, and feelings have obviously festered. Maybe he hates your guts now, because he clearly feels bitter about things ending.

You should push him away now. You should immediately set boundaries and tell him sternly that this isn’t ok, and he needs to keep his distance.

But you’ve only ever been so fucking weak for this man, and considering instead of pushing him away, you turn around to face him? You’re still very clearly too weak to be trusted around him.

The moonlight bounces off his face, and for the first time since encountering him tonight, you see light flicker in his eyes just like it used to. They aren’t as dark despite his pupils being blown still, but those little stars that you once loved so fucking much are glittering.

“Fuck.”

He has no idea what comes over him. But the moment you turn around, he expects you to do exactly as you should and push him away, scold him for being so irrational and impulsive and borderline disrespectful. But you don’t. Instead, your eyes mimic his, they fucking glitter and reflect the stars in his own. Asters dancing around in your eyes just like they used to.

That fucks him completely, to actually see that although you seem ok, you haven’t fully moved on like it appeared you had.

You both thought you each moved on, all because of some silly little Instagram posts that neither of you were meant to see to begin with. Nothing is as it seems, is it?

All an illusion.

He grabs your face, it’s so fucking impulsive and he knows it, but he loses control. He’s never been good at controlling himself around you, not unless you tell him no.

But you don’t tell him no. You don’t recoil and tell him to fuck off like you should. You let him.

Stupid girl.

He leans in, but doesn’t quite kiss you. He places his lips so close to yours that they brush together. You are fucking tense, it feels as if your bones could snap at how taught your body is, but you still don’t push him away. You need to, because what if someone walks out and sees? How the fuck would you explain that the man everyone assumes you just met is this close and touching you as if he’s fucking in love with you?

The secret would be out then. Oh fuck, what a mess that would be.

But all those thoughts fly out of the fucking window when he closes the distance. It’s soft, he doesn’t move his lips, he just lets them linger on yours. Both of you are fucking shaking like addicts who just got their first hit of their favored drug after being deprived.

You let out the smallest huff of air, and that’s all it takes for Jungkook to snap. He groans and begins kissing you ravenously. Tongue and teeth, love and hate, his hands leave your face and start wandering your body as if he’s mapping it out all over again. The stray dog finally got the fucking bone.

You kiss him back instinctively. Not much thought goes into it, it’s like your body just automatically responds after being deprived from him for so long. Your tongue tangles with his almost as if they’re fighting, your hands explore his body just as thoroughly as his does yours.

It’s like two planets colliding. Fucking chaos. It shouldn’t be happening, but it is, and neither of you are strong enough to stop it. The big-fucking-bang. The end and the beginning of the world all over again.

He grabs you by the waist and hoists you up, maneuvers your legs so that they’re wrapped around his waist and pins you to the car. Seojoon’s fucking car, by the way. He has no intention of going beyond kissing, because he knows there are lines that he won’t cross again unless you say so. Especially not so soon.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to get as close as possible to you and bury himself inside of your very soul all over again. The thoughts going through his head are borderline crazy; he’s thinking shit like he wishes he could just crawl inside of you and live there; he wishes you really would treat him like a stray dog, buy him a fucking collar with your name on it, and take him home to keep him forever. Fuck, he would wear it, too. He would eat food off of the floor and lick your fucking feet if you said he could come home with you one last time.

You have no regard for your surroundings for a few moments, or even the fact that if you stay out here for too long people might question why you’re both out here longer than necessary. All you can focus on is how he tastes… how he tastes and feels like home. How for the first time in months, your arousal is bordering on painful just from his hands touching you. You never get like this with Seojoon, and you’re sure you’ll feel guilty for that later.

This is so fucking wrong in so many more ways than it ever was before, but somehow feels so right.

When he left, both of your flowers died. You haven’t bloomed since, and neither has he. You’ve both been dormant as the seasons change. You’ve to get on with your lives… but in this very moment, the seeds are replanted as if it’s inevitable. Spring flowers are dead, but autumn flowers are blooming.

Neither of you will ever be the same for each other again, but this alone is proof that no matter what season it is or how long apart you are… you will always fucking reignite the life in each other.

You’re both lucky, too, because Seojoon and Sena remain oblivious inside. Neither have even noticed that you’re gone, they’ve already helped themselves to some food and are chatting about work.

You know you need to get back inside soon regardless of who has or hasn’t noticed, because eventually someone will come looking. You can’t ravish each other like animals out here, not like this. But just a little bit longer…

“Fuck Y/N I’ve missed you so fucking much.” It comes out as a groan, but he sounds so fucking needy that you feel like you could faint. The way his voice cracks makes you groan back at him. He’s going to kill you acting like this. What a way to die.

Fuck. You need to stop before you go too far. You aren’t sure that you can control yourself.

So with shaky hands, you push him away, nearly fall as your knees wobble when he lets you out of his grip. You’re panting, your lips feel electric, and they taste so potently like him. You point a finger at him and say weakly, “N-no. No. Stop.”

It almost sounds as if you’re scolding a dog… which is ironic considering the canine-poetry he often compares himself to. And of course he stops, but he wonders what the sudden change was. He’s being stupid as fuck, this entire situation he put you both in is stupid, which is fitting because he feels fucking dumb in love all over again.

“Why? Did I hurt you?” He asks dumbly as he wipes his mouth, his fingers are twitching with need to touch you again, but he refrains for now because you said stop. He may be a stray, but he does as he’s told…

Oh, how fucking Jungkook of him to immediately wonder if he hurt you. Because no matter how selfish he is, he will always worry about hurting you, he will never fucking forgive himself for hurting you.

You breathe out a laugh that isn’t out of humor, but out of irony. He’s worried about hurting you, as if that’s the worst thing that could happen here tonight… when you both came here with your fucking partners.

“No, fuck. Jungkook, your fucking wife is inside, and so is my boyfriend. This is wrong. Can’t do this again”

You hate that even with Jungkook, you now feel pressured to call Seojoon your boyfriend. It makes you cringe that he pushed that label on you, and your current confusing feelings do not help at all. Jungkook notices you cringe, too.

He doesn’t like that.

He mimics your laugh, runs a hand through his long hair and shakes his head. He averts his eyes now because he simply can’t stand to look at you. Not when you just called Seojoon your boyfriend when you so obviously don’t see him as such.

He feels himself start to get pissed. He knows he shouldn’t be getting angry right now, has no reason or right to. You’re doing what you’re supposed to do; moving on… but now you’re in front of him again.

And he wants to make it fucking impossible for you to move on.

“Yeah? Your boyfriend, huh? So you’re a liar now too?”

You flinch, your back is pressed against the cool car as you stare at him in shock. Yeah, he’s pissed. Which is making you feel both irritated and a bit intimidated, because his mood switched so quickly. One moment he's devouring you, the next he’s accusing you of being a liar.

You both are so great at moving on! Fucking bullshit.

“What? No, he is my—”

“Does he kiss you like I do?”

He takes a step closer.

Fuck. Please don’t.

“Don’t—”

“Does he touch you like I do?”

Another step closer.

“Does he fuck you like I do?”

And now you’re pinned to the car again. He isn’t touching, because you told him not to. But his body is nearly brushing against yours as he looks down at you. You have no idea what the fuck to say.

“Does he love you like I do? Would he ever fucking be able to love you like I did and still do to this day, Y/N?”

You can’t take it. Fuck. The one thing you never did was compare Seojoon to Jungkook. You may have thought about Jungkook, you may have had lingering feelings for him, but you never once compared Seojoon to him because that would be so fucking unfair. Not only would it be unfair, but you know that if you did compare him, you would never be satisfied.

You never even thought to compare Seojoon to Jungkook until now, because there is no comparison. No one could possibly measure up to Jungkook.

But now, he’s planted those thoughts in your mind like fucking weeds. No, Seojoon doesn’t kiss you like Jungkook does, he doesn’t even seem to enjoy kissing. No, Seojoon doesn’t touch you like Jungkook does, he refuses to leave marks made of love and passion because he thinks it’s tacky. No, Seojoon doesn’t fuck you like Jungkook does, he likes to stick to the same few positions and prefers you on top. And no, Seojoon doesn’t love you like Jungkook ever did, Seojoon doesn’t love you at all.

Fuck Jungkook for putting these thoughts in your head.

You’re pissed at this point. Pissed at him for crossing the line and trying to sabotage shit, pissed at yourself for allowing him to kiss and touch and fill your head with thoughts on how Seojoon is only a tree whereas Jungkook is an exotic fucking flower.

You push at his chest again and grit out, “Fucking stop, I am done.”

You told him to stop, so he should. But he already started… and he isn’t sure he can stop now, not when you are right in front of him, and your face says it all; Seojoon will never be Jungkook.

Jungkook doesn’t budge when you push him, he stays in place like a fucking boulder. Has definitely been visiting the gym more.

“Yeah? You think we’re done? We’re not done.”

He leans down until he is nose to nose with you, his breath washing over your face, hot and heavy.

“I said we’re. not. done. Understand?”

You fucking hate yourself in this moment. Because Jungkook has done a lot of little things in the past that make you go crazy, a single fucking look could make you drop to your knees and do anything he wants. But this? This turns you on in a way you have never experienced before.

It drives you crazy with anger, longing, and fucking passion for him. He’s crossing a line right now, pushing you in ways that are so fucking wrong considering you both have people waiting for you inside. He’s still married, and you technically have a boyfriend now. So you should tell him how full of shit he is for trying to tell you you’re not done. He can’t make decisions for you.

He knows this, too. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t push you to give into him again in some fucking way. He won’t let you go so easily this time.

But the way he says it… it’s as if he has never been more certain of anything in his life. Because he hasn’t. He is so serious when he says he’s not done. Neither of you are. He will make damn sure of it after the taste he had tonight.

You shouldn’t have planted that fucking seed.

The worst part is that you believe him. You know that look in his eyes, its determination. He won’t fucking stop until you tell him to never come near you again.

You don’t know if you can do that a second time.

You're about to scold him and tell him to back off, but you hear a whistle come from the house.

“Yo, Kook, come help me grill this pork belly.”

Yoongi stares at Jungkook’s back with an emotionless expression, there’s no mistaking how close he is to you right now and it has you so fucking on edge, because Yoongi sees it. What if he fucking tells someone?

This is the exact reason why you shouldn’t be sneaking around. Holy fuck.

It shouldn’t feel this good to sneak around with him again, especially when the stakes are even higher.

“Coming, was just helping Y/N with her purse.”

He stares you down as if to silently say ‘I am so fucking serious.’ And even though he looks borderline angry, there is no mistaking the devastating amount of love he still holds for you. Even when feeling jealous and angry and resentful, his eyes are still glittering when looking at you. It’s as if you’ve siphoned the life back into him.

He childishly pinches your waist, which causes you to squeak, and then he walks away, heading back towards the porch of the house where Yoongi lingers waiting for him.

You watch him the entire time, not sure what the fuck you’re doing or are going to do after this.

It really doesn’t help that before closing the door, Yoongi gives you a look as if to say, ‘I know your secret.’

Fuck, you are in so much trouble. What the fuck are you doing?

One thing is abundantly clear, though; this is either the start of something catastrophic, or it is the last time you will ever see each other again.

You just aren’t sure which one yet.

Yes you are.

You swiftly grab your purse from Seojoon’s car and reapply your lip tint in the mirror. You need to get back inside because now is not the time to start freaking out. People are waiting for you inside, one of which is a man that probably would never expect you to be out here kissing one of his ‘friends’ like a horny fucking teenager.

You have so much fucking thinking to do, but for now, you must pretend once again. You hope so fucking much that Jungkook behaves for the remainder of the night. Otherwise, you just might explode.

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook #jungkook angst #bts fanfction #bts imagines #bts smut #18+ only #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #i love jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction #bts angst #bts x reader

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undescribed1mage · 4 months

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breaking down my doctor who playlist by what from the show they remind me of the most <3

As The World Caves In by Matt Maltese — The Doctor & The Master, more specifically in The End of Time Part One & Two & Last Of The Time Lords. but also. just. vibes (vibes about the doctor holding the saxon master after he was shot).

Happy Xmas (War Is Over) by John Lennon — All of the Christmas specials but mainly, again, The End of Time part one & two. & . everything about that.

Two Birds by Regina Spektor — The Master and The Doctor, again (they're awful), but also twelve & clara with the bird symbolism and clara leaving when he tried to save her, clara being brave and letting go, and Jack & Torchwood &. everything with that (i've never seen Torchwood but I still know like. most of what happens)

Memories by Conan Gray — Martha Jones, specifically in the episodes after her season (also Jack in seasons 3 & 4). With 'It's been a couple months / that's just about enough time / for me to stop crying when I look at all the pictures / now i kinda smile / i haven't felt that in awhile'. 'You see / it's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning / over and over again.'

I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers — Ten's era, with different companions for different parts like — "When I get back I'll lay around / then i'll get up and lay back down / romanticize a quiet life / there's no place like my room." with Donna at the end of Journey's end, and "Out in the park we watch the sunset / talking on a rusty swing set / after awhile you got quiet / and i got mean / always pushing you away from me / but you come back with gravity / and when I call / you come home / a bird in your teeth." (the last line specifically with the fact that Jack was Supposed to be in a good man goes to war). I also think it works very well with The End Of Time Part One & Two & just. the world almost ending at the end of s4

Your Sister Was Right by Wilbur Soot — You know how like. every mother during the RTD (pt1) era slapped the doctor at some point? yeah. just. the doctor in reference 2 rose, martha, & donna & their mothers. as well as the doctor thinking that they're bad news which is something that comes up quite a bit with these songs.

Why Didn't You Stop Me? by Mitski — I don't really know how to explain this one it just. gives me ex-companion vibes, specifically with 'I look for a picture of you / to keep in my pocket / but i can't seem to find one / where you look how I remember'.

Long Live by Taylor Swift — In reference to a companion departure, from the Doctor's pov with 'will you take a moment? / promise me this / that you'll stand by me forever / but if, god forbid, fate should step in / and force us into a goodbye / if you have children someday / when they point to the pictures / please tell them my name.' & 'i had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.' I think, if we're going for a specific companion, it's very the Doctor & Donna coded.

Walking All Day by Graham Coxon — something about how multiple companions have followed the Doctor to the end of the universe (specifically martha & jack but I think it could also work with clara) & how devoted companions are to them, especially the ones that are interested in him romantically (that one rory quote that's him talking about how the doctor makes people want to impress them).

Never Love An Anchor by The Crane Wives — Part of my interpretation with this when it comes to Doctor Who is how the Doctor, after losing a companion, is always 'i will never love again this is the end for me...' & then he meets the next companion & does it all over again (& in specific situations, such as Donna & Amy & Susan & Vicki, they're very similar to the person he just lost), and also how awful ten was to Martha (& Jack) & oblivious to most of it because of the loss of Rose (it's a secret i keep tucked inside my chest / with this heart of mine that's guilty not remorseful / there is love that doesn't have a place to rest / but it would've buried you if it had settled on your shoulders). The Doctor just also (as seen in the Church On Ruby Road) just thinks they're bad news in general (no comment from my end on this) &. yeah

Two paragraphs for this one! The second interpretation I have is specifically the first doctor after the loss of Susan, and how he was (for the end of their time together, which was what we saw in Susans serials) very hard on her especially for her last two serials. Also, him leaving her behind & 'so I did the only thing that I could / and severed the rope that set you sailing from my harbor'. I don't have a lot to say about this but. the doctor & susan make me so :(

Be Safe, Be Good (For Rachel) from Ride The Cyclone — do you ever think about how many deaths (companions or otherwise) (no spoilers please i'm on series ten for nuwho & season two (soon to be three!) of classic who so) the doctor has caused. indirectly or directly. do you ever think about clara & how her family and her students will likely never know what happened to her. do you ever think

Blue Lips by Regina Spektor — originally when i added this to the playlist (back when i was first making it, probably around me watching series five) i had intended it to be about the doctor but now i think it's more about ashildr / lady me and how much she's seen and how much she's lost. she forgets anything she hasn't written down (and rips pages of things she wants to forget out) and she's seen the world in most of it's phases, she's seen societies crumble and rise &. yeah

The Main Character by Will Wood — I have so much 2 say about this one. buckle in. i'm that first person they talk about in all the books.' him being referenced in literally the first episode of torchwood (for valid reasons he is a very important part of jacks story). & 'imagine if protagonists just died in the first scene.' cut to jacks death in everything changes. & 'I loot plot armor from NPCs / well they are to me.' again. the amount of people that have tried to help him & died. specifically one off ones. & 'Villains are everywhere / that's how I know that I'm a hero.' yhe battle of canary wharf. enough said. & 'Her majesty says the royal we demand a stander of loyalty / an agreement to be reverent / link the emperor's new boots' something about tooth & claw. + so much more that i don't feel like elaborating on rn !!!! they even mention daleks in the song <3

Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift — SARAH. JANE. SMITH. It is so her coded. The way the doctor left her, and how in School Reunion she talked about how the Doctor was her life (such a good episode btw). & . she was just waiting. for him 2 come back. & . godddd. i'd break down these lyrics too but i'd be saying the same thing (basically just what i've already said) about all of them so. just listen 2 it or look up the lyrics & you'll see.

Thinking About A Potentially Awkward Interaction With An Old Friend by Crywank — another ex-companion song !!! I don't have any in particular for this but i feel like whenever past companions return for an episode or two it's never nearly as awkward as it should've been, especially with Martha & Sarah Jane, especially how much the tenth doctor had grown (& how much Martha had grown !!!) in between s3 & s4 Alone !!!! 'Well memories sure / they're precious / that's true / but I don't want to make any new ones with you' is sooo Martha. & 'It would be nice to underline it / but i know we're both doing fine without the other in our life.' & ESPECIALLY 'yes / time away has taught me that I like this distance from you'.

River Like You by Maya Hawke — the riverdoctorjack polycule is insane. man. & this is on here for them <3 i think a lot about how jack's other male love interests at least vaguely resemble the ninth doctor in some ways, and how he & river are both immortals so they'd be the perfect people to travel with. & how the doctor tries, at times, to separate himself from both of them (much more severe with jack). 'i've loved a river like you before / i'm a river too'.

Motion Sickness by Phoebe Bridgers — Martha Jones deserves to be SO bitter about how the doctor treated her. SO bitter. 'you said when you met me you were bored.' & 'i have emotional motion sickness / i try to stay clean and live without.' & . yeah. martha jones you will always be famous. also 'and while you're bleeding on your back in the glass / i'll be glad that i made it out / & i'm sorry that it all went down like it did.' in reference to the end of time part two.

Smoke and Mirrors by Emily Rohm — certain parts of it. are kind've the like traditional backstory for a companion (with nuwho) like. 19-25 year old girl who lives with her parents & is bored of everyday life & still waiting for her life to begin & then the doctor comes along & she's swept away into time & space & now she's sosososo important !! + 'She walks alone every morning / down the same old street / and wonders how she let her days get stuck on this endless repeat / she wants that movie life / a hero comes to sweep her off her feet / they'll run away'. & there's other parts that could fit but generally. just the same idea

Black Sheep from Scott Pilgrim — 'Hello again, friend of a friend / knew you when / our common goal was waiting for the world to end / now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend / you crack the whip, shape-shift and trick the past again.' literally no other part of this song matters in reference to this playlist. it is just that & the fact that it reminds me of the master <3

The Lucky One by Taylor Swift — companions drive me so crazy btw. specifically companions after leaving the doctor. 'It was a few years later, I showed up here / and they still tell the legend of how you disappeared / how you took the money and your dignity and got the hell out / they say you bought a bunch of land somewhere / chose the Rose Garden over Madison Square / and it took some time, but I understand it now.' with a current companion thinking about a past companion. & just. idk. something about bad wolf & the girl who walked the earth & the most important woman in all of creation & the girl who waited & the impossible girl & so on. the lucky ones.

Mr. Perfectly Fine by Taylor Swift — I've realized that from this playlist it makes me seem like a swiftie but i'm not i just enjoy some of her music & mr perfectly fine is the most tenjack coded song in all of existence. nine being at the very least interested in jack, traveling with him & flirting with him & kissing him & then ten turning around & running away from him & calling him wrong ('mr change of heart'). 'oh he's so smug / mr always wins'. 'hello / mr casually cruel'. 'always at the right place at the right time'. 'he goes about his day / forgets he ever even heard my name' . & last. but oh so definitely not least. ''cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl / i've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her / and I never got past what you put me through / but it's wonderful to see that it never phased you'. I am so emotional about doctorjack can you tell.

Viva La Vida by Coldplay (Covered by Annapantsu) — don't ask me why i didn't add the original version on here i just didn't feel like it. anyways. it reminds me a lot of elevens era, with a good man goes to war & rory's line about how he (the doctor) doesn't make people brave, he makes them want to impress him (SO TRUE KING !!!) & the day of the doctor. i think it could also work with the time war & eight & the war doctor (i've only listened 2 some of eighths audios, working my way through them rn). & Maybe the battle of Canary Wharf. just generally. the doctor. & war. & how he is respected. oh & also him being the PRESIDENT OF THE WORLD IN CRISIS ???

Soldier Poet King by The Oh Hellos — saw a post about this in relation 2 ninejackrose & it got me thinking. rory soldier eleven poet amy king. i think if you tried hard enough this template could fit a lpt of the tardis teams. that's all <3

Little Soldiers by The Crane Wives — the master & the doctor. again. 'on the broken backs of all the words we spared / like little soldiers in the trenches' we're gonna take the metaphors a little seriously here & i'm gonna mention how the doctor has a habit of turning companions into soldiers and fighters. & . again. he makes people want to impress him. i think the rest of the song is still very them but that's the only part that i really have anything to talk about (besides 'i swear that you loved me / i swear that i loved you).

Not Strong Enough by Boygenius — 'Always an angel, never a god / Aways an angel, never a god /Always an angel, never a god / Always an angel, never a god / Always an angel, never a god / Always an angel, never a god / Always an angel, never a god / Always an angel, never a god / Always an angel, never a god / Always an angel, never a god / Always an angel, never a god / Always an angel, never a god' is so. companions in general coded. why can't they just have a nice time :(

Nowhere Man by The Beatles — I think this may be one of the only songs on here that portrays the doctor in a semi positive light :-) !!! — oh wait nvm forgot the lyrics. sorry we're criticising the doctor again (i adore them i swear. what a guy) 'He's as blind as he can be / just sees what he wants to see' @ ten. sorry buddy. you're really being attacked in this post aren't you. 'Doesn't have a point of view / knows not where he's going to.' do you ever think about how the doctor just sort've. wanders aimlessly in between companions. like. sir how'd you end up in victorian london wearing amy's glasses. 'Nowhere man / the world is at your command.' They are PRESIDENT OF THE WORLD IN EMERGENCIES. UNIT why would you let them have this power.

Interplanet Janet from Schoolhouse Rock — Added as a joke . for the sillies of it <3

Partner in Crime by Madilyn Mei — another Jack song (can you tell he's my favorite companion) but only like. a certain part of it (i have not listened 2 it all the way through but i heard a clip from it & went oh my god jack harkness... & here we are). 'Run for it / I'll keep 'em occupied for you / 'cause i love you / i love you so / left me hangin' at the station / but you'll be back for me soon / i'm 'bout to die / yet the only thing i'm worried about is you / something tells me you aren't coming / i guess i'm truly doomed.' it is so INSANELY PARTING OF THE WAYS CODED !!! Me when he sacrificed himself for the doctor & rose me when he was so ready to die for them. me when he woke up from DEATH to the tardis dematerializing and leaving him surrounded by dead bodies so far away from his home (which is the tardis. but yk). he was about to die and the only thing he was worried about was them. something tells him they aren't coming. he guesses he's truly doomed. j just. raigdhdjdhhdjd. he drives me crazy.

Don't Look Back in Anger by Oasis — 'Please don't put your life in the hands of a rock 'n roll band / who'll throw it all away.' so. many. fatalities, tumblr. that's all.

Oh Distant You by Wilbur Soot — okay i've already written this specific part out but tumblr deleted it when i switched from the page that i had the next songs lyrics in so i'm just gonna take a photo of the lyrics that are SO ten post rose coded & hope you read them

am i the biggest tenrose fan? no :( not on their own, at least, however i will accept that he loved & adored her. he loved her So Much. she was the first face that face saw !!!! & there are other companions that this song could work with but in my head. it's a them song. (this would probably be like. at the end of the end of time part two. him thinking about this.)

The Ballad of Lucy Gray from The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes — i've never seen the ballad of songbirds and snakes (or consumed any hungergames media) however i do think that this song is clara coded <3 i can't really explain it but. amelia pond i love you dearly. i think that specifically 'it's sooner than later that I'm six feet under / it's sooner than later that you'll be alone / so who will you turn to tomorrow, I wonder? / for when the bell rings, lover, you're on your own'. her talking about how twelve needs to be on his own in face the raven. & how she needs him 2 understand that he cannot keep her from dying & that it's her time (he's already lost her at least twice, and that's just when we see her in the show). ''cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping / I am the one who knows how you were brave / and I am the one who heard what you said sleeping / i'll take that and more when I go to my grave' i think this is more twelve or ashildr about her. & how she said 'let me be brave' before she died, and how she slowly became more daring after spending time with the doctor because that's just what he does (not gonna quote rory again but. yk) & how the original clara oswald (not oswin oswald or clara oswin oswald)s first appearance in the show was her standing over her own grave !!! 'Well, all right, I'm bad, but then, you're no prize either / Al right, I'm bad, but then, that's nothing new / You say you won't love me, I won't love you neither / Just let me remind you what I am to you.' clara, you are exactly what he deserves. & vice versa. they are both so awful & it is so insane. the doctorification of clara is so much worse than the other companions.

No One Lives Forever by Oingo Boingo — i . cannot explain this one. it is PURE vibes.

All My Little Words by The Magnetic Fields — last song (as of rn! there may have been more added by the time you're reading this) & surprise surprise. it's a doctorjack song. 'I could make you fly away / but i could never make you stay.' imagine you're jack harkness & the man you loved (& the only other immortal you know) is REPULSED by you. he keeps running away. 'You said you were in love with me / both of us know that that's impossible' i think this is from the doctors pov. it just seems like something he'd think. 'Now that you've made me want to die / you tell me that you're unboyfriendable' the tenth doctor after flirting by asking jack if he wants 2 die & then holding the man that tortured jack in his arms as he died in a similar fashion to jacks first death (being shot in some way). his ass Is Unboyfriendable

#doctor who #classic who #nuwho #the doctor #jack harkness #martha jones #clara oswald #doctorjack #tenth doctor #the master #saxon master #this took like two hours. but i'm very proud of it #sarah jane smith #rose tyler #eleventh doctor #rory williams #blah blah blah these are all my interpretations. & 4 sillies

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walder-138 · 1 month

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BEHIND THE OC NAME

(Tagged by: @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, thank you pookie 💜)

This will include some of my retired OCs and a lot of them I haven’t made posts about yet. For clarity, ‘*’ means that they’re retired, and ‘^’ means I’m planning on making posts on them.

MIKHAIL VORONOV*

(Face claim: Alexander Petrov)

I came up with Voronov’s name WAYYYYY later than I should’ve. Only just before I abandoned the story did I actually make my final decision. In the early days of the story’s production, in my head I referred to him as ‘Crow’. So, when I finally decided (1) his gender and (2) his name, I decided to translate ‘Crow’ into Russian, and that’s how I got his last name. Pretty straightforward lmao.

ABBEY FOSTER^

Abbey was raised in a cult, but the people who adopted her after she was found named her ‘Abbey’.

IRL, I named her after the song ‘Abbey’ by Mitski, as that song is what she’s based off. I spent an hour looking for a surname that would go well with Abbey, and Foster was the one I landed on!

ANNIKA VORONOVA

(Really want to redo the drawing lmao)

(copy paste from another post)

“I honestly can’t remember how I came up with her first name. I think I saw it somewhere and was like “Damn I gotta remember that name for the future” and I decided to give it to her. Nikolai is the name of one of my friends, so that’s what her patronymic is based off. Voronov was the last name of one of my retired OCs, and I still liked it, so yeah!”

ZOMBIE-12*

This won’t make sense (since the drawing is from before I made the change), but they called her Zombie because half of her face was burnt off from an explosion. Zombie was used towards her as an insult, but Eryka turned it into her callsign so people couldn’t use that as ammunition against her. (her and OG Voronov are in the same universe)

OSWALD ‘OZ’ CLANCY

Since I based him off a heavy metal song, I name him after Ozzy Osborne from Black Sabbath. Oz’s last name, since my dad likes Tom Clancy and the last name flowed well with Oz, so that was after him. (Abbey, Oz, and Lorelai are in the same universe)

Lorelai^

“Lorelai” is a German name that means ‘Temptress’ or ‘alluring’ based off a German myth about a siren with the same name. After repeatedly disobeying the cult, she was lobotomized and brainwashed, now completely subservient. She would use her beauty and charm to lure in people to join them.

#my ocs #oc stuff #oc #picrew #bell oc #call of duty oc #oz clancy #abbey foster #annika voronova #Mikhail voronov #bell cod #zombie-12

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fallenclan · 7 months

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A Full List of Fallenclan Cats That Give Me Thoughts

Maplestar - hm.. he is a guy. but hes also gone through so much.

Silverbelly - she is,,,, so silly,,,,, the silliest. perchance

Sorrelstem - dawg how did she react to shrewkit I dying dude how did she feel. like did she feel like a shitty parent was she extra protective over the rest of her kits??? hm

Crowflame - he is a guy but also he is super tragic and sad. UGH boyfailure

Blizzardfang - i thoughr she was a man for like 7 million years and now i think about her all the time. perchance.

Antbite - him and lionsong are so goldenflare and morningbloom coded. him being this silly little emotional wall 90% of the time is Canon because I Said So

Lionsong - HE WAS TOO LITTLE!!!! NOOOO!!!!

Moosefall - my MAN. my BOY. okay that is MY SON and I will EMOTIONALLY TARNISH HIM as much as i want. PERCHANCE🔥

Salmonskip - she is such a goofball 2 me okay. like she definitely feels less than adequate compared to mossfrog and that is something i Get

Mossfrog - she is literally me so everything i say about her is correct. brand new city by mitski as a CAT

Waspflight - adhd king/queen. she can be BOTH king and queen okay shes QUEEN he is KING he is all the genders at the same time

Owlscreech - yes shes a wet sopping beast but shes MY wet sopping beast. PERCHANCE.

Goldenstar - do u think he has ptsd from morningbloom. bcuz. vaguely gestures in applebranch's direction. do you think her first litter gave him REAL flashbacks. also robinblaze looks a lil like morningbloom dont u think. rubs my hands together EVILLY

Shrewkit II - how does she feel about being named after her dead relative thats shes never once met and looks strikingly similar to

Feathersight - how does he feel about being named after his mentor's murdered brother. how does he feel about constantly being in stormsights shadow? Perchance

Pinefrost - shes literally just there. love her for that. perchance.

Brambletuft - gestures vaguely at pinkshift and mitski. yeah thats her

Yewberry - he's so autism. perchance

-🍭

you cant just say perchance (<- reference)

your thoughts. all so good. mwah. antbite and lionsong ARE goldenmorning coded you're right. golden FOR SURE has ptsd abt morningbloom's death and he absolutely had flashbacks when applebranch had her kits. shrewkit II. i like to think she is proud to carry the memory of her aunt. same for feathersight--bro is connected to starclan in Ways (omen sense) i feel like hes happy to carry that.

i also have to ask. do you think pinefrost is a girl. or are you just using she/her for him. bc that rules too. i just want to know

#fallenasks #lollipop anon

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mayday505 · 1 year

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OKAY MIR READS STORMBRINGER: THE SERIES!!

PROLOGUE THOUGHTS!!

- I really like use of monster imagery because it’s so clear that it’s foreshadowing Guivre and Arahabaki ‘it could even be the fangs and saliva of a starving beast’ yeah that’s abt Arahabaki alright.

-‘This forest’s wicked form that day was light.’ Implies destruction for the greater good -> Chuuya using corruption even tho he’ll lose the ability to tell whether he’s human AND it being this thing that destroys him from the inside out but being their only choice to stop Verlaine

-References to fire and the colour orange all metaphors for Chuuya. he is the forest fire lolz mitski core!!! But fr I like the use of semantics to both describe the surroundings and also clearly describe Chuuya. Like ‘crackling of the trees as they burned sounded like guttural screams’ that’s so CLEARLY a reference to corruption I’ll die.

-‘A hole in the night that all living creatures naturally feared: a forest fire.’ People fearing Chuuya and his power (Shirase in 15, Mori, his enemies etc) fear of corruption/of a god/Arahabakis power. All dear it because it’s not of natural descent it’s inhuman, godlike. A hole insinuating Arahabaki to be an insatiable beast; once u open it it can’t be stopped. That’s also implied w the forest fire imagery. People scared of Chuuyas power bc of destructive nature bc it’s like a forest fire. So ppl like Mori harness it and keep it controlled whilst ppl like Shirase in 15 try to put it out from fear (the stabbing).

- ‘The body was bent straight down the middle, and one of its wings stuck out like a gravestone.’ BRUTAL foreshadowing The flags deaths and how unnatural/horrific they were.

-‘The aircraft’s torn body’ foreshadows albatross’s death. Obvs the comparison between planes and birds and his name lmao but also because his whole area in the mafia is transport….aha…funny….

-I LOVE LOVE LOVE the section w the boy Adam saves in it because he’s also a good look at Chuuyas inner character.

-‘A mere child like him, however, could only attempt to mimic what the adults were doing.’ Something intellectual about the chain of abuse and where the responsibility/accountability should fall. Chuuya mimics what the adults around him do and try to emulate them. He doesn’t act like a kid. Something about how not many characters are inherently bad people in bsd, they just grew up with shitty role models and learned from what they saw which Yk on the streets and in the mafia isn’t exactly a very good baseline to learn how to treat people or how you should be treated.

-‘There might be survivors.’ Chuuyas inherent optimism/hope despite it kind of dwindling. He doesn’t automatically see the worst in people and tries to see the good.

-‘The adults would surely praise him if he saved someone. He imagines himself being lauded a hero, and his heart began to race.’ He wants to be useful, wants to help people/be acknowledged by those he respects. It’s lit him okay.

-‘But his ambitions proved deadly.’ Every time he gets his hopes up something bad happens to pull them down. His ambition to become an exec??? His optimism and hope dwindling as he loses more people.

-FAVOURITE WHITE MAN ADAM!!!! ‘“I had no idea commercial airplanes experienced so much turbulence when they landed.’ REAL UR SO REAL ADAM COMEDIC AUTISTIC GENIUS. ‘It doesn’t help that these doors just seem to pop off,either”’ chortled. Giggled. Chuckled.

-‘as he dubiously cocked his head to one side.’ Dubious little creature getting up to mischief.

-‘Human society considers it rude to not introduce oneself, yes?”’ Lit how I feel as an autistic person ur so real adam

That concludes my prologue thoughts !!! Slayed fr.

#bsd #bsd analysis #bsd stormbringer #bsd chuuya #bsd adam #bungou stray dogs #skk #dazai osamu #mir speaks #mirs bsd rambling #Mir reads stormbringer: the series #mirs thoughts #Adam so quirky I love him #slay

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aivalanche · 1 month

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𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐀 + spotify/playlist.

SPOTIFY.

as far as aiko's music career goes, she was known strictly as ai and released music soon after she left her home and was 'discovered' by her manager/producer. she was pretty much an overnight sensation, and from then on ai's schedule was packed with releasing music, preparing to release music, or promoting her released music.

i imagine that her as an artist has a very sabrina carpenter feel.

she releases all of her music in english, though she's always wanted to release music in japanese (her first language).

for reference, cheeky sounds like sugar rush by bibi, lucky girl sounds like espresso by sabrina carpenter, and cherry on top sounds like soaked by shy smith.

she is a very popular artist, again i'd compare her fame to kind of sabrina carpenter? so like, definitely not a household name but she has quite a bit of fame.

she's known for very provocative lyrics/performances.

PLAYLIST.

poison / blake roman: you're feedin' me poison, addicted to this feelin', i can't help but swallow

spider web / melanie martinez: i move like a moth or a butterfly, craving a change in the wind

starring role / marina: 'cause the only time you open up is when we get undressed

espresso / sabrina carpenter: i'm working late, 'cause i'm a singer

partner in crime / madilyn mei: truly something must be wrong with me to need you as much as i do

what was i made for? / billie eilish: i used to float, now i just fall down, i used to know but i'm not sure now

washing machine heart / mitski: baby will you kiss me already and toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart?

tunnel vision / melanie martinez: i make them panic, it's satanic how i bend my body, yeah, you can look, but you can't touch, i'm not just anybody

young and beautiful / lana del rey: will you still love me when i'm no longer young and beautiful?

nobody / mitski: and i don't want your pity, i just want somebody near me

#huntsvilletask #huntsvilletask04 #♡ musings.#♡ aesthetics.#♡ playlist.#template by zsources

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https-hunter · 9 months

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what is your absolute favorite ship?

is there a ship that you used to ship, but don’t anymore?

what song(s) remind you of [pairing]? (tinimmy? 👀🫶🏻)

ALSO I LOVE YOUR FESTIVE FALL COVER PIC AHHHH 🍂🍁🎃

- ABSOLUTE favorite?? Oh, that’s tough. I have to name a few.

Obviously, I love tinimmy, they stole my heart when I was 13 (their age! That’s crazy).

Andy and Allison from the breakfast club are and always will be a comfort ship. I’ve been on that for years now.

Another that’s close to my heart is Han and Leia from Star Wars because, well, they’re classic (looks at the empire poster by my bed).

And one I’ve been fixated on most recently has been Isaac and Nigel from ghosts on cbs. They pined for each other for 250 years! They were enemies in war. They love each other so much. They make me unwell

- because I’m delusional /j, I’ve decided to ignore the canon on this one and ship it anyway, but joanfk from clone high. I was fr mourning them after season 2, but, in my mind, they’re still a good ship. They’re not ruined in my heart

- ohoho I have a few tinimmy songs. I must consult my separate tina and jimmy jr playlists

Kiss me by sixpence none the richer (I still want to make that animatic one day)

Love story by taylor swift (I know you’re a swiftie, so, 🫶)

Like every love song from grease. Summer nights, hopelessly devoted to you, you’re the one that I want. I mean, Tina canonically has written that last one into an au, so, yeah.

Tonight from west side story. I will forever be pushing my tinimmy west side story agenda

Like any song referring to Romeo & Juliet, actually. Juliet by Cavetown, R&J by Peter McPoland, you name it

I’ve Had the Time of my Life by Bill Medley & Jennifer Warnes. I will forever be a dirty dancing fan jj truther. I think they would both love dirty dancing and try to learn the lift (key word: try)

Two slow dancers by Mitski. I imagine it’s them at a school dance, accompanied by a little angst

And ahhhh thank you!! I love it too :)

#I loved doing this!!#bob's burgers #tinimmy #ask #asks #inbox

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ascendandt · 1 year

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really long explanation of my song choices under the cut

1. WHITE WINTER HYMNAL (FLEET FOXES)

- its the cycles. the tragedy that is and was and will be happening. the removal from the scene and simultaneous desperation

- lyrical repitition yeah. timeloop

- "and michael you would fall" you WOULD. implied repition and inevitability. ya its like gan 👍👍

2. YOU & ME (TALLY HALL)

- "off again we go, another seed to sow, another part to keep in proper order, what have i begun, a getaway undone, i have seen the signs and i ignored them"

- ⬆️ HELLO? TIMELOOP. meticulous tweaking of circumstances to get gan not evil. i have seen the signs (of the impossibility of changing fate. and also of him in the first before having moral complexity) and i ignored them!!!!!

- YOU AND ME DIVINE. A CIRCULAR DESIGN! RETURN TO BE IN ORBIT ALL THE TIME

- "you turn away and around, ive been coming down" its a bit. its a bit that you might see your shadow... iykyk

3. EVERYWHERE (BRAN VAN 3000)

- youre everywhere to me... its gan. hes hes everywhere

- everywhere you came an left you came in the name of love! and left a wake of happiness and tenderness and SWEET CONFLICT.... it is always tortured :( link is so good natured but um well. its not going right. he still holds reductive morality that wont actually save anyone

- "you come on down but you dont come down" - its the way link keeps coming back to this guy this GUY HE LOVES to save him but he never gets at the root of it he never. comes down to why gan does what he does ever.

- also works as a sorrows (part 5 of b+f) gan perspective 👍 unrequited love baby

4. TEXAS REZNIKOFF (MITSKI)

- ok i actually have very little justification for this. but its verry sorrows esque to me. sorry

- oh except "but ive been anywhere an its not what i want... i wanna be still with you". its them to me.

5. FRANCIS FOREVER (MITSKI)

- what more can i say... the isolation. the seperation

- in sorrows ganondorf if left literally all alone on a shipwreck for days to months Several times, and is also hopelessly in love with link. for context.

- "i dont need the world to see that ive been the best i can be... but i dont think i can stand to be where you dont see me" - its literally him. he really only has link in his life, and he is doing all his evil-magic suppression in isolation FOR HIM.

- ⬆️ oh also somewhat a post-fear no more link. haha. he greives rajo his son and rajo his brother a lot. all this timeloop bullshit is for him after all... in defiance of fate and the gods snd everything. he MISSES HIM MORE THAN ANYTHING one might say.

6. ANNIE'S SONG (JOHN DENVER)

- hes everything to link👍 gives him purpose

- LET ME GIVE MY LIFE TO YOU. LET ME DIE IN YOUR ARMS.... the devotion and it all. yeah

7. I'M STILL HERE (GOO GOO DOLLS)

- this is particularly a song for fear no more rajo. the weird father son dynamic they got here is so fucked

- rajo feels inadequate he feels evil and ALSO smothered by link his dad. because link is trying to save him from being evil right. so hes both expecting him to act badly and need saving and ALSO be good. its fucked

- oh and also deeply estranged by society due to being raised in hyrule abd very much Not being hylian.

- like the lyrics refer to feeling inadequate and lost alone. people (in this case link and (joker voice) SOCIETY) expecting bad things from him... he wants support from his dad but its still very complicated WHATEVER...

- its um. hes just like jim treasureplanet.ok whatever

8. HYMN FOR A SCARECROW (TALLY HALL)

- by contrast. a link song.... nobody knows you and neither do i...

- the farmer jim in the lyrics is corfo cepolla to me (he is a farmer who link comes back to several times across timelines for advice and help raising ganondorf as a baby. hes cool guy).

- "he may imagine you heard and he knew... you wouldnt hear what he might have known" <- despite it all link really fails to take to heart what needs to be learned from the cepollas. HES A VERY ONE TRACK MIND GUY... like a scarecrow!

- song is about an enigma of a guy right. why does he do what he does. is he even aware. only the wind knows... its very him.

- also the birds the crows. they are fate somewhat. he drives them away by nature of what he does but the line "igniting a spark in [the crows'] minds so they circle and fly" feels like they are driven to return anyway. very much a theme in the story, like evil still arises whether in ganondorf or not. you cant save everyone always

9. BIXBY CANYON BRIDGE (DEATH CAB)

- link greiving his lost brother/son/friend ...

- in the silence it became so very clear that you had long since disappeared...i cursed myself at bring suprised that it didnt play like it did in my mind

- ⬆️ he keeps fucking dying. despite all the time nonsense rajo cant come back and you cant erase the losses of former timelines

10. SAMSON (REGINA SPEKTOR)

- the "history books forgot about us" and the "we coukdnt bring the cloumns down" is very sorrows to me. they loved each other and it still wasnt enough to CHANGE anything because he still died by links hand and the timeline was still reset.

- the uh. hair length thing is actually pretty important because 1. its a cultural thing to have gans hair long. 2. rajo cut off all his hair before he killed himself in fear no more (momentous Fucking occasion). and link feels ratherrr responsible for that. the hair cutting is a betrayal. and in the times where link raises him in the hylian fashion and cuts his hair its like. uprooting his whole life and for what? NOTHING to change. wawawawa

#i am... deranged about this right now

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bat-bytes-back · 3 months

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WELCOME TO MY BLOG

hello, we're CB! you can also call us Entity. We're a DID system that's bodily 18 years old and we use he/hymn pronouns (changes around a bit) collectively unless an alter says differently. Do not collectively refer to us as they/them. We're a genderqueer dykefag =)

The DNI list is just standard DNI shit. Y'know like, racists, pedos, zionists, ect you get the deal. Also, I block freely! Don't like that? Aw, well that's just too bad ain't it.

our Asks are always open btw, we just might not respond instantly or something

Our main interests right now gotta be Half-Life, Ultrakill, and Terraria. However! We do like a lot of shit outside that, like any ol shooter games and stuff. This is a multi-fandom blog!

yeah I'm a fan of music, yeah I can name 3 songs. I'm gonna name artists/bands instead though! Apartment Number 6, The Twilight Sad, Talking Heads, Mitski, and The Smiths my beloveds.

(I <3 absolutely bit crushing images into tiny stamps)

FOR THE TAGGING SYSTEM

#banger art = Other people's art that I reblog. I like to look through this tag like I'm going through a gallery walk

#bat draws = Our art

#does my voice annoy you = just us yapping about shit

#I regret nothing = answering asks

We have a total of one(1) side blogs that we still use and it's barely active lol. it's our graphics and stimboard account feel free to follow if you want I literally don't care what u do just have fun foo

#PINNED POST #banger art #bat draws #does my voice annoy you #I regret nothing #INTRODUCTION POST

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regenderate-fic · 2 years

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All I Ever Wanted (Is Here)

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler Rating: General Word Count: 7,900 Other Tags: Pete's World, Post-Journey's End, Emotional, Bed-Sharing, Love Confessions, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Developing Relationship

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Summary: After arriving back in London, Rose and the metacrisis Doctor have a lot to reckon with.

For FictionPenned in the 2022 WLDW Exchange.

NOTES: sigh. title from mitski i will.

anyway. this is a pinch hit for river in the wldw exchange. please pretend jamie wrote it i guess. i was kicking around a few different ideas for characters to write about since you said you could be sold on pretty much anything and then like three hours after i took the pinch hit i thought of this tentoorose idea that i realized might hit a lot of your prompt. the specific ones i took were intimacy, silent communication, expanding on characters/world, dealing with difficult emotions, and i was trying for some rebuilding mutual trust and growth and change but i'm not sure it hit. also was going for slice of life vibes but considering where it sits in the timeline it's more like the heel of a loaf of bread where everything's pretty different from how the rest of the bread is going to be. which like i guess that's still technically a slice but it's not really what slice of life refers to i feel like. anyway i hope you like it <3

The ride to London from Bad Wolf Bay takes more than a day. They take a bus and a train and another bus, Rose and her mum and this new Doctor: they would’ve flown, but the Doctor doesn't have any papers.

Rose spends the whole trip letting her head bump against shaking windows, the Doctor’s side brushing against her. They barely talk.

They're on the train overnight. Rose’s mum sleeps, snoring loudly in the train car. Rose doesn't. She's not sure about the Doctor: every time she tries to look at him, her gaze skitters away. She just keeps staring out at the blurry landscape, not speaking, barely moving.

The final bus pulls into London, and it's seven at night. Rose still hasn’t slept; maybe she dozed off, once or twice, but not enough to count.

“Your dad’s waiting for me,” Jackie says, her eyes fixed on Rose. “You’ll be all right?”

Rose glances at the Doctor. He's looking resolutely away, staring at a billboard advertising some law firm or another.

“Yeah,” she says. “We’ll manage.”

Jackie pulls Rose into a tight hug. “Come round soon, all right?” She steps back. Glances at the Doctor. “When you’ve had a chance to settle.”

“‘Course,” Rose says. “Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.” Jackie hovers for another moment. For a second, she looks at the Doctor like she wants to say something, but she doesn’t: she just says, “I’ll see you later, then,” and walks away.

Rose turns to the Doctor.

“C’mon, then,” she says, tiredly taking his hand. “You hungry? There’s a chippy on the way home.”

“Chips,” he says, his voice soft. His hand is heavy in hers, heavy and warm. “Yes.”

“Right.” Rose tugs on his arm. “Let’s go.”

Her place isn’t too far from where the bus has left them. The chippy is even closer, and she sits across from the Doctor in a booth lined with red vinyl, picking at her food. Normally, she’d love this: fish and chips are her absolute favorite, and an old tradition between her and the Doctor. But today she slumps against the wall, her eyelids drooping, and she can barely look at the man in front of her, much less hold a coherent conversation.

“Sorry,” she finally manages. “I know you didn’t want this.”

The Doctor shifts in his seat. He’s not really looking at her either: his eyes are still wandering the chippy, taking in the pictures on the walls, the other customers. “It’s not how I thought my day would end, no.”

Rose nods. She looks down at her chips, a lump rising in her throat. She swallows it back down. “We’ll have to get you paperwork,” she says. “You’ll need a name. Can probably get you a job at Torchwood, if you like.” She takes a bite of a chip, chews it slowly, swallows. “‘Course, we don’t have to deal with any of it tonight.”

“One step at a time,” the Doctor agrees.

“One step at a time.”

It’s dark by the time they leave the chippy. Rose keeps half stumbling, her exhaustion getting the best of her: after the fourth time, the Doctor asks if she’s all right, and she insists she’s fine.

They go up in the elevator to her flat, and Rose fumbles with her keys. It’s lucky she kept them with her, in all her jumps between universes. It’s lucky she didn’t know for sure which trip was going to be successful, lucky she didn’t know for sure whether the Doctor would actually want her back. If she’d been more certain on either count, she might’ve left her keys at Torchwood, and then she and this new Doctor would be completely out of luck until morning came.

“Right,” she says, stepping through the door, sliding her blue leather jacket off her shoulders. “Home sweet home.” She says it with a twist of irony. This isn’t much of a home at all: it’s tiny, for one thing, with empty white walls and barely any furniture in the living room. Just a dingy loveseat that the last tenants left, and a solitary lamp next to it. She’s aware of the Doctor behind her, looking around, and then she steps into her bedroom and stops in her tracks.

She closes her eyes and leans her head back, turning so it hits the wall with a thud. “Of course,” she mutters. She’s forgotten, in the haze of exhaustion, what she’s actually working with here. “I’ve only got a bloody twin.”

The offending bed sits, perfectly made, in the corner of the small, nearly-empty bedroom. It’s got a plain brown bedspread, and a nightstand next to it with a lamp and a book: on the other side of the room is a door leading to the closet and then Rose’s desk, which is maybe the only thing in this whole flat that looks like it gets any use. She’s got papers spread all over, charting her routes through different universes, keeping track of where she’s been and where she hasn’t been and what she’s seen. She has the urge, now, to sweep them away, hide them before the Doctor goes over and sees the full weight of her desperation to get out of this universe, but before she can, she hears the Doctor step into the room, feels his presence next to her. She opens her eyes.

“Sorry,” she says, for the second time that night. “I can— I can sleep on the floor.”

“No,” the Doctor says, right away. “Not after the day you’ve had. I’ll take the floor.”

Rose fixes him with a look. “Not after the day you’ve had. Trust me, I’ve slept on worse.” Traveling between universes, she didn’t always have a consistent place to sleep: she’s slept in the backs of cars, underneath bushes, in diner booths.

“Not when you’re this tired.” The Doctor nudges her. “It won’t be good for either of us if you’re grouchy tomorrow.”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Won’t be good if you’re grouchy tomorrow either. You’re human now, remember? Can’t get by on no sleep like you used to.” She sighs. “Suppose we can add a new bed to the list of things to see about tomorrow.” She turns to leave. There’s not much in the living room, but there’s definitely a blanket— and she’s not really short enough that the loveseat would be comfortable sleeping, but if she curls up just right—

“Rose,” the Doctor says, and she turns to face him, startled into looking him in the eye for the first time since the beach. He looks— disoriented, maybe, in a way she’s only seen a few times before. “What are you doing?”

“Just—” She waves a hand. “Sorting through my options.”

“I think—” He cuts off. “I mean, if you’d like—” He glances to his right, through the open bedroom door. “I wouldn’t mind sharing.”

Rose raises her eyebrows. Even during her best moments with the Doctor, she’s not sure they could’ve both fit on a twin bed for a full night. “Doctor, there’s no room.”

“I know.” He swallows, and Rose watches his face, waiting for him to find the words he needs. “But we don’t have a ton of options. And I—” He looks down. His voice quiets. “I think I’ll sleep better if you’re there.”

Rose can’t help but feel a flutter in her stomach to hear him say it. And when she glances back at the loveseat, it’s clear she doesn’t really have a better option.

“Fine,” she says. All the energy’s gone out of her body. “It’ll do for tonight.” She pushes past him and into her bedroom, opening the door to her closet and rummaging through some drawers until she finds the sweats and T-shirt she usually wears to bed. “I haven’t got pajamas for you,” she says over her shoulder. “Sorry.”

“That’s all right,” he says, his voice quiet behind her. “I’ll sleep in my trousers.” There’s a pause, and then he adds, his tone dry, “I’ve slept in worse.”

She rolls her eyes to hear her own words parroted back. She turns to see him sitting at the end of the bed, pulling off his shoes.

“Right,” she says, holding her clothes in a bundle under her arm. “I’m desperate for a shower. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

“Me?” He shakes his head, half a smile on his lips. “Never.”

In the bathroom, Rose turns on the shower. She peels off her pink T-shirt and black trousers. They don’t feel like the same clothes she put on two days ago, to make her last hop between the dimensions: they’re changed. She’s changed. Sure, her skin is still the same as it was before, her hair the same length, her eyes the same light brown— but she is no longer the woman who launched herself from universe to universe with nothing but a dimension cannon and a gun.

She’s just Rose, exhausted, trying her best.

She doesn’t take long in the shower. She doesn’t want to leave the Doctor alone for too long— she’s responsible for him now, another person dropped in this universe. Or— she probably doesn’t have to be responsible for him. She didn’t really have much choice in the matter, after all; she would be well within her rights to walk away, to tell him he’s got to figure things out on his own.

But— she feels responsible for him. And some part of her, somewhere deep down, sort of wants to be.

He’s been responsible for her for long enough, after all. It’s about time someone turned the tables.

She washes her hair, scrubs her body. She can’t help but think she’s washing the last of her home universe off of her. She already mourns the loss. This universe is— well, she doesn’t know what it is. She’s spent most of her time here grieving. She hasn’t exactly gone out to explore. But… it’s not familiar. It doesn’t feel like home. Maybe it will, someday. But right now it feels… distant.

She steps out of the shower and dries herself off. She hates going to bed with wet hair, but she’s too tired to deal with drying it properly tonight. So she just does the best she can with her towel, and then she pulls on her sweats and her T-shirt and takes a deep breath.

This is going to work out. It has to.

Rose goes back out into her room, half-dizzy with exhaustion. The Doctor is there, sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He’s stripped down to his T-shirt, but for some reason, his socks are still on. It’s weird, seeing him here. Rose always assumed that if she got back to the Doctor, she’d stay with him in the TARDIS: there’d be no need for him to come back here, no need for him to see the blank walls and the twin bed and the nearly-empty kitchen. He wouldn’t need to see the physical evidence of how desperate she was, how single-mindedly focused she was on getting back to him.

But now he’s here, sitting right in the middle of the evidence, and Rose is kicking herself for assuming she’d never need room for a second person here. To be fair, she’s not sure anyone could’ve predicted the “Doctor gets a human clone” turn of events, but still.

The Doctor moves over towards the wall, making room for Rose. He’s turned the lamp on; she flicks the main light off and heads for the bed, gingerly sitting on the edge.

“You all right?” he asks quietly.

Rose hesitates. “I don’t know yet,” she says, her voice quiet in response. She looks at him, this new Doctor, a man who both did and didn’t exist three days ago. He has the Doctor’s face, the face she’s spent years trying to find— and his voice, that beautiful voice, and his really great hair. He’s looking at her in the same way he always has, but there’s not a chance she’s the only thing on his mind. She turns to him, pulling her legs up onto the bed, folding them in front of her. “How about you? It’s not every day you get cloned and dumped off in a parallel universe.”

There’s a long pause. His body shifts as he angles himself towards her. “I’m adjusting,” he says. He hesitates. “The thing is, Rose, I—” He shakes his head. “You know this is what I always wanted, don’t you?”

Rose stares at him, her mouth open. Her exhaustion still hovers around her, but she pushes it away, willing herself to get through this conversation. She speaks slowly, the words only coming to her as fast as they can push through the fog that’s built up over the last few days of lots of action and little sleep. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—” He sits up straighter, gesturing with his hands. “I spent so many years wishing I could be with you. Properly. And I couldn’t, because I was always just going to outlive you, wasn’t I?” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. I always sort of wanted to be a regular human.”

“But—” Rose shakes her head. “The travel? The TARDIS?”

“We can still travel,” he says. “If you want to. Might be slower, but—” He shrugs. “We’ve got time.”

Rose feels a slow smile appearing on her face. “Yeah, suppose we do.” She pauses. “But, Doctor— you really— you’re okay with giving all that up? Immortality, time travel? For me?”

“It’ll be an adjustment,” he repeats. “Not sure I’ve wrapped my head around it properly. But—” He dips his head, lowering his voice. “Yeah. I’d do anything, Rose. If it meant I could be with you.”

Rose swallows. She’s always sort of hoped, deep down, the Doctor might feel that way about her— the same way she feels about him. She never let the hope become too real, even as her feelings grew, even as his affection became clearer and clearer. She always knew the Doctor wasn’t the sort to get into a human relationship, no matter how much he liked the human. Really, the best she was hoping for, jumping across the universes, was that he’d be happy to see her.

And he was.

And he still is.

She looks at him for another long moment. Everything still feels strange. She never expected to have guests in this place, not least the Doctor; she never expected to have him with her on Earth, part of any kind of human life. She’s always assumed she’d be in his world, in the TARDIS, traveling.

“It’ll be a lot to get used to,” she says. “For both of us.” Slowly, carefully, she leans against his chest, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “But I think— I think I’m looking forward to it.”

His hand makes its way around her waist, and he pulls her closer. She curls up against him, and she feels the briefest brush of his lips against her forehead.

“Me too,” he whispers, and the force of his conviction would have knocked her right over if his body weren’t supporting her so completely.

He shifts, bringing Rose with him so they’re both lying down, pressed together to avoid falling off the twin bed. Rose winds up draped over him, her head on his chest, one leg flung across both of his. He shifts, jostling her, and she reaches to turn off the lamp and winds up rolling too far and losing her balance. She almost falls off the bed, except he’s there, his arm still around her waist, catching her, holding her steady. She giggles, and once she’s started she can’t stop, delirious with confusion and relief and lack of sleep. When she looks back at him, he’s smiling, and suddenly she’s hit with a complete disbelief that she’s really here in her bed with him, with the Doctor, and he’s so tangible , and— yeah, she really needs to go to sleep. Finally, she manages to turn off the light, and she curls against the Doctor’s chest again.

She falls asleep in a matter of minutes.

She wakes up to a single heartbeat under her ear and gentle fingers brushing through her hair. She sits straight up, panic running through her: she sleeps alone. She always sleeps alone. She sleeps alone, because—

“Rose?”

Oh. Because the only person she would want to sleep near isn’t with her, except that he is, and now he’s staring up at her, frowning.

“Sorry.” She lies down, rests her head back on his chest, lets his single heartbeat thud against her ear. “Not used to waking up with anyone.”

“We used to wake up together,” he reminds her. “Every so often.” They did, back on the TARDIS— mostly because she fell asleep on his shoulder watching a film, and he would’ve rather let the universe implode around him than disturb her while she slept.

“It’s been two years, remember?” Rose pokes at his chest. The jolt of adrenaline is going away, leaving her with a lovely sort of sleepiness. She nestles closer to the Doctor, and, tentatively, his hand returns to her hair.

“Too long,” he says.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t see you hopping universes to get to me.” She means it as a joke, but when he stiffens underneath her, his hand freezing against her scalp, she knows she’s gone too far.

“I wanted to.” His voice is raw, suddenly, tinged with emotion. “Rose, you have to believe— I spent months trying to find a way through. Tried to go back on our timelines. Tried to tear another hole in the universes. Best I could do was pop up as a hologram on Bad Wolf Bay.”

“Doctor, it’s all right.” Rose props herself up on her elbow, letting herself look at him properly for the first time that morning. He looks young, somehow, the freckles on his face lit by the sun as it trickles in through the curtains. Young, even as he frowns, even as he holds back tears. “It’s all right,” Rose repeats. She reaches out to touch his forehead, running her fingertips across his skin, down his cheek. “I believe you.”

He nods. She watches him swallow, his eyes studying her face, and then he rolls to lie on his side. He reaches up, pulling her down by her waist until she’s lying down facing him, their noses almost touching.

“I missed you,” he whispers. “So much. I’m probably still missing you, in the other universe.”

“I know,” Rose whispers back. “I missed you too.” She hesitates. “Why did he— I mean, the other you— why did he send us back here? If you wanted me back that badly—”

“I think—” the Doctor pauses, gathering his thoughts. “I— he— he didn’t want to get hurt. He would’ve thought it was better to lose you now, when he knew you had a shot at happiness, when he knew he needed to figure out what to do with me , than to lose you later, after years of falling more and more in love.”

“You—” Rose closes her eyes. Her voice comes out barely a whisper. “You’re in love with me?”

The Doctor stares. “Rose,” he says, full voice. “I already said I loved you. What did you think that meant?”

“Doctor,” Rose says, laughing, “there’s a difference between loving and being in love.”

“C’mon,” the Doctor scoffs. “How much more obvious did I need to get? Rose, I took you to Woman Wept. I died for you. What did you think that was?”

“I sort of thought you would’ve done that for anyone,” Rose mumbles. Off the Doctor’s incredulous look, she adds, “ Yes , I know how I sound. But still.” She prods his side. “You're the one who couldn't even say it.”

“Yes, well, I was also facing down the next thousand years of grief, wasn't I?”

That shocks the smile off Rose’s face. “Thousands of years? Surely you wouldn't have—”

“Oh, yes, I would.” The Doctor closes his eyes. “Rose, I still miss everyone I've ever traveled with. Even if I just knew them for a few days. When I start to feel— when my—” He opens his eyes, wide and earnest. “I tried so hard,” he says. “Not to fall in love.”

Rose thinks about his other self, living out the next thousand years with his grief, picking up more people to mourn along the way. A hollow feeling settles in her stomach. “I can imagine.”

“‘Course,” the Doctor adds, “it was pretty much impossible not to fall in love with you.”

That hollow feeling is still there, but now it's accompanied by a gorgeous warmth. Rose’s face tips into a smile, and she pushes closer to the Doctor, their noses almost touching. “Oh, I'm irresistible, am I?”

She watches him break into a smile. He runs his fingers along the edge of her hair, smoothing it down, away from her face, his eyes never leaving hers. She feels every touch as heat against her skin.

“You know you are,” he says, his voice low. “Caused me no end of trouble, I'm telling you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rose grins back at him. There’s that old spark dancing in his eyes, and for a moment she’s overcome with how much she’s missed him, how much she’s wanted to see those eyes, that smile. She’s mesmerized by him, really, especially when he’s this close to her.

He nods, just once, a sharp and decisive motion, and she laughs. For a moment, they’re both laughing, their foreheads bumping together— and then Rose sits up, holding out a hand for the Doctor to do the same.

“C’mon,” she says. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us. Lots to do.” She raises her eyebrows at his T-shirt. “First thing, we’re getting you some new clothes.”

He sits up with a heavy sigh. “I’m not getting out of this, am I?”

“What,” Rose scoffs, “you just want to go around in the same old unwashed trousers all the time?” She shakes her head. “Sorry, Doctor. If you’re supposed to stay with me forever, you’re going to need more than one pair of underwear.”

“Well, I—” He stammers. “I’m not disputing that , I just—”

Rose rolls her eyes. “Promise we’ll find you the closest thing we can to six copies of the exact same suit.” After another moment of consideration, she adds, “But I’m also buying you at least one pair of jeans.”

He makes a face. “Never worn jeans. Not sure I’ll like them.”

“Then you’ll never wear them, and we’ll wind up giving them to a charity shop or something.” Rose bumps her shoulder against his. “But there’s a whole world of clothing opening itself up to you, if you’re willing to branch out even a little bit. You could wear casual clothes. Comfy clothes, even.”

His grimace only grows stronger. “I’m not— comfy .”

“But you could be,” Rose sings. She gets up and stretches before moving to her closet, rummaging through her own clothes until she finds a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved button down. She holds up both pieces, second-guessing, and then she shakes her head and tucks them under her arm. The Doctor always liked her before, no matter what she was wearing— surely the same will apply now.

Still. Everything feels so momentous now. Every movement feels laden with meaning. It’s not hard to believe that wearing the wrong shirt could send everything off in a completely awful direction.

Rose sighs. Right or wrong, she’s committing. She goes into the bathroom and changes her clothes, and then she looks in the mirror and realizes how much of an absolute mess her hair is. She never should’ve let herself go to bed with it wet, no matter how tired she was. She runs her hairbrush through it until it’s at least not just a mass of knots, and then she brushes her teeth, watching herself in the mirror all the while.

When she goes back into the bedroom, the Doctor is standing up, pulling on his jacket. It’s a bit rumpled, and Rose smiles to see it. He’s fussing with the buttons, but when she steps up to him and starts smoothing out the fabric on his chest with her palm, his focus snaps to her. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close, and she lets her head rest on his chest, listening once again to that single heartbeat. A part of her still expects to hear the too-quick two-hearted thumping she remembers, but this Doctor’s heartbeat is slow, steady, even as it seems strange.

She chuckles to herself. She can feel the Doctor move to look down at her, and she can imagine the puzzled look on his face as he asks, “What?”

“Was just thinking,” she says, still pressed close to him, still with her head against his chest. “It’s funny that I’m listening to your normal human heartbeat and thinking it sounds weird. By all rights, your old heartbeat should’ve sounded weirder.”

He laughs, somehow managing to pull her in even closer. “We’ve still got to adjust,” he says.

“I’m not complaining,” Rose replies. She steps back and moves to her nightstand, picking up her wallet and keys and phone to drop into her pockets. She opens another drawer and pulls out a wad of cash, stuffing that, too, into her pocket. It comes from her wages: she never bothered setting up a bank account or credit card in this universe, instead opting to take cash payments and shove them into this drawer. It’s a short-term solution, but then again, she was always intending for this to be a short-term universe for her. “Right. We should probably get going. I can check the fridge, see if I’ve got anything for breakfast, but I’ll be honest, it’s not looking good.” She looks back up at him, pulling her hair back into a short ponytail with one hand. “We can stop somewhere, pick something up.”

“Sounds good to me.” He’s looking at her, watching as she goes through the motions of getting ready for the day.

“We’ll have to stop by Torchwood,” she adds, and she picks up the no-longer-functional dimension cannon in one hand. She looks the Doctor up and down. “They’ll want to know you’re here. And they’ll be able to help us get some documents so you can start living like a person and all that.” She raises her eyebrows. “Start thinking about when you want your birthday to be.”

He tilts his head to the side. “If I say next week, will you give me a party?”

“If you want a party, just say so.” Rose takes his hand. “We’ll call it a ‘welcome to the universe’ party.” She frowns. “Although we might be a bit busy, you know, with the actual welcoming you to the universe and all.”

“Got it.” He squeezes her hand. “Save the party for later.” He grins. “Suppose technically I was born a few days ago. What day was that?”

“Could check the logs on the dimension cannon,” Rose offers. “See what day it was in that universe.” She pauses, thinking. “Or we’ll just use the day we came back through.” She shrugs. “Honestly, I’ve lost track of the days. Don’t mean much when you spend half your life in other universes.”

She tugs on his hand, and together they start walking. Rose pulls on her jacket as they leave, tucking the remains of the dimension cannon into its pocket, and then they’re out on the street. As promised, Rose leads the Doctor to a little cafe where they can get breakfast— “Still haven’t got any cash, have you?” she teases him— and then they go to Canary Wharf, where this universe’s Torchwood is still alive and well.

“Right,” she says to the Doctor as they step into the bustling lobby. People are walking in every direction, through doors set in pristine white walls, and Rose joins them, leading the Doctor to the largest set of glass doors. “We’ve just got to go check in with my project manager, and then hopefully she’ll be able to help you get settled.” She fumbles with her wallet until she manages to pull out her ID card. She scans it, and the reader flashes green, and there’s a click as the door unlocks.

“That was very official of you, wasn’t it?” the Doctor asks as they step into a wide white hallway, elevators on both sides.

“Yeah, well, I work here,” Rose replies. She steps up to the elevator and scans her ID again before pressing the up button. She glances back at the Doctor, who’s giving her a goofy grin, and rolls her eyes. “Shut up. Without this job, you know I never would’ve found you, don’t you?”

“Well, then, I suppose I’m eternally grateful.”

Rose shakes her head. One of the elevator doors opens, and she makes sure she’s holding the Doctor’s hand before she tugs him inside: she still remembers vividly getting separated on New Earth, watching elevator doors close in her face before being unexpectedly disinfected and delivered on her own to a dingy basement room where Lady Cassandra laid in wait.

The Doctor leans against the elevator wall, still holding her hand as she stands in front of him.

“Do I need to be nervous?” he asks. “I think I’m rather nervous. Why am I nervous?”

“Nothing to be nervous about,” Rose promises. “Renee’s nice, really.”

“I don’t usually get nervous,” he says, his eyebrows drawn together in a frown.

“You’ve never been human before, have you?” Rose counters. The elevator doors open, and they step out into the hall together.

“Suppose not,” the Doctor says as they start walking. “Still. Don’t like it.”

“No one likes it.” Rose bumps her shoulder against his arm. “You’ve just got to figure out how to deal. C’mon, this way.”

She pulls him through a hallway to their right, and then she stops at a door that reads, Renee Peters: Special Projects. Rose knocks twice, and a muffled voice responds, calling out, “Come in.”

“You ready?” Rose murmurs.

“As I’ll ever be,” the Doctor replies.

Rose opens the door.

Renee Peters has known Rose for two years now. She was one of the first people Rose met at Torchwood, after she kept asking all the people she met before Renee how she could get her hands on a dimension jump. She knows everything about Rose’s mission to find the Doctor: she’s helped with most of it. So when Rose enters, holding the Doctor’s hand, Renee just leans forward, peering at him over the top of her glasses, and says, “Ah. Pete said you’d brought back a friend.”

“Yeah,” Rose says. She fishes the dimension cannon out of her pocket and leaves it on Renee’s desk. “Think we’ve got to retire this.”

Renee nods. “Why don’t you sit down?”

Rose obliges, and so does the Doctor, folding himself into one of the armchairs in front of Renee’s desk.

“I’ll file a report in the next few days,” Rose says. “Once I’ve gotten things settled. The full story is— well, it’s mad, really.”

Renee raises her eyebrows. “As mad as meeting Pete Tyler’s daughter who didn’t exist a week ago and is now demanding to speak to anyone who can get her into a parallel universe?”

Rose grimaces. She was at her absolute most desperate, when she started at Torchwood, and everyone could tell. She mellowed out a little bit after a while, but those first couple weeks were awful for her, and awful by extension for everyone she thought could help her. She’s forced her way into more than a few of Torchwood’s offices and meeting rooms. “Even by my standards, it’s mad,” she says.

“Right.” Renee leans back in her chair. “So, tell me this mad story.”

Rose does. She explains meeting Donna in a pocket universe, meeting Donna’s family in the right universe, finding the Doctor, watching him get shot. The Doctor interjects here with an in-depth— possibly too in-depth— explanation of regeneration, and the rest of the story is a back-and-forth, Rose giving a detail, the Doctor expanding, Rose correcting him, the Doctor giving off an exaggerated mock offense. Renee interjects with questions, once in a while, but mostly it's the Doctor and Rose, going back and forth. The Doctor explains the metacrisis, and Rose skillfully slips over the more complicated emotional details of being back in this universe.

Finally, they're done, and Renee raises her eyebrows.

“That's going to make quite the report.”

“Tell me about it,” Rose replies.

Renee directs them to the human resources department for the Doctor’s paperwork and the medical department for various tests and scans. Rose assures the Doctor, as they leave, that he doesn't actually have to do them, but he shakes his head.

“Aren't you just dying to know what's going on in here?” he asks, gesturing dramatically at his body.

“Suppose we'll go, then,” Rose replies.

HR is expecting them. Rose and the Doctor sit in uncomfortable chairs in front of a bored-looking man who ignores the Doctor’s jokes about not being human, technically , in favor of asking for his name.

“You going to use John Smith?” Rose asks, half-teasing.

“Er—” The Doctor looks at her, then away. “I was thinking about using Noble.” He kicks at the ground. “‘Cause, you know. Technically Donna would be my closest human relation. If we’re thinking about it in those terms.”

Rose looks at him for a long moment. There’s something subdued to the way he’s sitting, the way his eyes are darting around the room, landing anywhere but on Rose. It hits her, suddenly, that just like she’s had years without him, he’s had years without her , years during which he’s formed his own bonds. “All right,” she says. “Noble.”

“John Noble,” the Doctor adds, straightening up.

“You’re sure about John?” Rose asks. “I mean, you could go with anything.”

The Doctor leans back in his chair. “Nah. John’s a classic. Why go to the effort of finding a new name when I’ve got one right here?”

“All right, then,” Rose says. “John.”

Half an hour later, they leave, with the promise that a birth certificate, photo ID, and passport will be mailed to Rose’s address. They stop by the medical department and are told to set up an appointment, which they do: the Doctor is promised extensive genetic and temporal testing, to the best of Torchwood’s ability.

“So a tiny fraction of what the TARDIS could’ve done,” the Doctor mutters as they leave, and Rose elbows him.

“Oi, don’t be rude,” she says. “These people are just working with what they’ve got, and honestly, the technology is pretty much top of the line.”

They go back and check in with Renee. Rose promises she’ll be back at work next week, and equally that she’s going to do everything she can to bring the Doctor with her, and then she and the Doctor make their way to Henrik’s, which in this universe is completely intact.

“Still hate coming here,” she mutters as they step through the doors. “But it’s got the most options, hands down.”

“Oh, is this the same shop?” the Doctor asks, looking around. “Bigger than I remember.”

“Yeah, like you were paying attention,” Rose replies. She nudges him. “C’mon, menswear is this way.”

The Doctor is, as expected, an absolute nightmare in the shop. At first he stands away from the racks, refusing to say more than two words about anything Rose holds up to him; and then, as he starts to warm up to the idea, he starts filling his arms with just about everything in the store, irrespective of size, keeping up a running monologue about each item and what it reminds him of.

Finally, Rose manages to wrangle him into a dressing room, and she sits on a bench outside, kicking her feet as he changes. It’s a far cry from the sort of thing she was doing even a week ago, desperately jumping between universes, straining her eyes to perform maintenance on the dimension cannon, coming across countless people and creatures who wanted her dead. It’s a relief, really, to be sitting outside a Henrik’s dressing room, the most pressing concern being whether or not the Doctor’s picked out any trousers that’ll actually fit over his legs.

The door bangs open, and the Doctor steps out in a pair of jeans and a striped T-shirt.

“What do you think?”

Rose looks him up and down. He looks good , actually— she never thought to imagine the Doctor in anything but his pinstriped suit, but she’s clearly been missing out. There’s something about the way the shirt outlines his chest, the way the dark-wash jeans hang, that seems to bring out something new in him. She’s surprised by how much she likes it.

He rocks back on his heels, looking down. “That bad?” Rose realizes she’s just been staring.

“No,” she says, standing, taking two steps closer so she can smooth down the collar of the shirt with her hand. “No, you look—” She looks away, more flustered than she wants to admit. “You look great.”

“Oh.” He looks down at her, and she looks back up to see the barest beginnings of a smile on his face. “Really?”

She nods. “Really.” With a smirk, she adds, “Should’ve gotten you in jeans much sooner.”

He glances back into the dressing room. “Well, there’s plenty more where these came from.”

Rose laughs. “All right, then. Let’s see what else you’ve got.”

The Doctor disappears into the dressing room again, and Rose sinks back onto the bench. Over the course of the next hour, she’s treated to a full fashion show, featuring some of the most ostentatious patterns and poorly sized garments she’s ever seen, but interspersed with pieces that have Rose staring once more at the lines of the Doctor’s body, flushing as she realizes how completely transparent she is.

Finally, they’ve enough of a selection to clothe the Doctor for at least a week and a half, and Rose peels bills from the roll in her pocket to pay for them. They leave Henrik’s with three shopping bags each.

Back at Rose’s flat, the Doctor gets in the shower, armed with his new clothes, and Rose sits on the loveseat in the living room, her head leaned back, her eyes closed. So many thoughts occupy her mind that she can’t actually think any one of them— they just float by, disappearing the second she tries to grasp one.

She kicks off her shoes and pulls her knees up to her chest. It’s been a busy few days. There’s going to be a lot to process, once she manages to sit in one place long enough.

Eventually, she hears the Doctor’s footsteps as he comes out of the bathroom. He crosses into her room— she assumes to drop his old clothes in her hamper— and then he comes out into the living room, his hair still damp, wearing the T-shirt and jeans he tried on first.

Rose reaches up and takes his hand in hers, comforted by its solidity. He drops down next to her, slinging his arm over her shoulders, and she leans into him.

“You all right?” he asks.

Rose nods against his shoulder. “You?”

“Never better.”

Rose laughs. “To be fair, you’ve only got about four days to compare to.”

“That helps,” he admits. He draws her in closer.

“Your shirt’s soft,” Rose murmurs, her cheek against the cotton. “We chose well, at Henrik’s.”

“That we did.” He laughs, and she feels it rumble in his chest.

She lifts her head, looking at him, his eyes on her, his soft smile. There’s so much that needs saying, and Rose doesn’t know how to say it all— but she has to try. So she swallows, and she asks, “How’s this going to work, then?”

He looks back at her, his eyes frighteningly close. “How’s what?”

“I don’t know.” Rose rests her head back on his shoulder. “This. Us. In this universe.”

His shrug jostles her head, and she smiles.

“Depends,” he says. “How do you want it to work?”

Rose hesitates. “I— I don’t know yet. Is that all right?”

He squeezes her around the shoulders. “More than.”

She feels herself smiling. “How do you want it to work?”

“All I know,” he says, slowly, “is that I want to be with you. Beyond that, it doesn’t matter.” He hesitates. “Well, as long as it’s not boring. Having to wait for time to pass normally is bad enough already.”

Rose laughs. “Well, you’ve got me, at least.”

He pokes at her side. “Not going to start jumping across universes looking for the original?” It’s a joke, but there’s something real running through it, something that tells Rose exactly how much is riding on her answer.

“Nah.” She can’t pretend the thought didn’t cross her mind, during the days they spent traveling, but— “He wasn’t wrong, leaving us both here. I mean—” She knows what she wants to say, what she needs to say, but it’s all tangled up in her mind, struggling to get out. She absently reaches for the Doctor’s free hand, running her thumb along its back, feeling his rough skin, his body heat, and she speaks slowly, giving each word time to emerge. “I don’t really like not having a choice. But if he’d given me a choice, if he’d asked what I wanted, if I’d really had the time to think about it, and if I’d been choosing for myself and not for him—” She swallows. “I don’t know. I think I would’ve chosen this.”

“Really?” the Doctor asks, his voice low.

“Yeah.” Rose closes her eyes. “I don’t know. I feel—” She lets out a breath. “I feel awful for him. All alone. But— even if I went back there, I’d keep him company for maybe sixty years, and that’s if I didn’t fall into any more parallel universes. And he’d have to watch me grow old, knowing he never would. And then I’d die, and he’d be alone anyway.” She pauses. "It would've been worth it, of course, on my end. But, you know. I'm not the one who would've outlived him. So I get why he sent me here." She manages a laugh. “And what was he going to do with you? Can’t have two Doctors in the TARDIS. Two of you would’ve torn each other apart.”

The Doctor returns her laugh. “Suppose we would have.”

“So it’s better for us to be here,” Rose concludes. “Together.”

“Together,” the Doctor echoes.

They sit in silence for another moment, Rose still resting against the Doctor’s shoulder. He’s so tangible underneath her. It’s been years, since she’s been held like this, since she’s felt another body so close to hers. Years, because she was waiting for him.

“Is it—” Rose takes a breath. “Is it hard, being here? I mean— I don’t know. I’ve lived the human life before, but this is new to you, isn’t it?”

There’s a long pause before the Doctor responds. “It’s— different,” he says. “I’ve— well, technically I’ve been human before, but—”

Rose lifts her head again. “What?”

He gives her a small smile. “Long story. It’s a thing the TARDIS can do. Very different circumstances.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ll tell you later.” His smile grows, just for a moment. “I’ve got the rest of my life to tell you, haven’t I?”

Rose laughs. She rests her head on his shoulder again. “Yeah, suppose you do.”

“Anyway.” His fingers tap against her upper arm. “My point is, it’s different. This is— I suppose I’m thinking of it as an adventure. There’s loads to learn.” He turns his head slightly, and Rose feels his breath against her hair as he continues. “About this universe. About being human. About being with you.”

Rose feels her smile curling on her face. “An adventure.”

“Yeah.” For a moment, he’s silent. And then he says, “I was angry, at first.”

Rose falters. “What do you mean?”

“When he left us here,” the Doctor clarifies. “I understood why. Same brain. But that didn’t stop me from being angry.”

“Are you still?” Rose asks.

There’s another silence. “I don’t know,” he says. “I don’t know what I feel.” He lets out a rueful chuckle. “I’m adjusting, remember?”

Rose hums. “It’s a big adjustment.”

The Doctor squeezes her hand. “I’ll get there.”

“I want you to tell me,” Rose says. “If you’re ever feeling angry, or sad, or— anything. I don’t want you to keep it bottled up.” She pauses, considers for a moment, and then laughs. “Maybe we can find you a really good therapist.”

She can’t see his face, but she’s sure she knows the face he’s making, his nose wrinkled as if something smells bad. “Me in therapy? Can you imagine?”

“Might be good for you,” Rose says, her thumb still running across the skin of his hand. “If we could find the right person. Wouldn’t work if you had to keep secrets. Maybe Torchwood could set you up.”

“I’ll think about it.” From his tone of voice, he absolutely will not think about it, but that’s all right. Rose has years to convince him. He presses a kiss to Rose’s hair, and her smile grows.

“Are you hungry?” she asks idly. “There’s a place down the street you might like.” Her smile becomes a grin. “And then tomorrow we can try grocery shopping.”

The Doctor scoffs. “Can’t believe this is what I’ve become. Oncoming Storm, Destroyer of Worlds, now relegated to grocery shopping .”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got dramatic titles for days, and I still go grocery shopping.” Rose taps her thumb against his hand. “You’ll live.”

“That’s what you think,” he grumbles, but he gets up, bringing Rose with him. “Place down the street?”

They walk, hand in hand, to Rose’s favorite sandwich shop. Giggling, she orders for both of them, glancing at the Doctor and saying, “Just trust me.” He doesn’t argue, and they take their sandwiches to a nearby park, where they sit on a bench and watch the sun set between the buildings of London. By the time they get back to Rose’s flat, it’s completely dark out, and both Rose and the Doctor are exhausted.

“Oh, my God,” Rose says, standing in the doorway to her bedroom, staring at the unmade twin bed in the corner. “I forgot to do something about the bed.”

“We’ll be all right for another night,” the Doctor says, coming up behind her. He wraps an arm around her waist. “Don’t you think?”

Rose glances up at him, grinning. “Yeah, suppose we will. One more night.”

He changes into brand new pajamas, and she changes into the same old sweats and t-shirt, and for the second night in a row, she falls asleep with her head on his chest.

This will work out, she decides. There’s happiness to be found, in this universe— for both of them. And she’s determined to find it. (She thinks maybe it lives in the infinitesimal space between two people sharing a twin bed.)

#doctor who #my fic #fanfiction #tenrose #tentoorose #ten x rose #tentoo x rose #tenth doctor #tentoo #rose tyler #pete's world #emotional #bed sharing #non-sexual intimacy #developing relationship #long

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