#and she just kept going on and on about a lawsuit and all that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zvdvdlvr · 12 days

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— Leaning to Live Again.

— 🪻. Synopsis. It’s been four and a half months since your fall. You’re starting physical therapy, and the team (and your husband) is there for you every step of the way- as Aaron gets started on filing a product liability lawsuit.

— 🪻. Warnings. Foul language. Frustrated reader. Female reader. Welder reader. Husband Spencer. Physical therapy. 1.6k fic. Mildly rushed ending. Not mych dialogue. I have no physical therapy experience, so I apologize for any incorrect terms/activities/phrases. Pet names.

— 🪻. Extra. Welder!Reader is getting a lot of love :))) Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

— 🪻. Other Welder!Reader fics. Lunch Break. Alive and Breathing.

You spent five weeks in the ICU, four of them in a medically induced coma. The doctor said that it was so you actually gave your body time to recover; the first few weeks after surgery was always the rockiest stage of any major injury.

Spencer spent every waking hour with you, if you were conscious or not. He read to you, had conversations with you, and told you anything that came to mind because he knows you love his voice. After three nights straight at the hospital, the nurses practically begged Spencer to go home, rest, recuperate, and get cleaned up. And Spencer admits, he felt a lot better after going back to your shared home.

When the doctors decided it was time to wake you up, Spencer was all but shoved out of the room. Something abour “not overwhelming her” or something. Spencer wasn’t listening anyway. After texting JJ, she told Spencer she’d let everyone know the news as they were currently in South Dakota catching a serial rapist and killer. And then Spencer resolved to pacing, reciting each song lyric you told Spencer reminded you of him. He repeated the few poems he had gotten you to read, voice softening as you read the words. And Spencer repeated the vows you and him had written for each other, remembering your face and your voice, the way you stood and how you smelled. He relived it as you were being pulled out of the darkness of your unconscious.

“Dr. Reid?” The nurse asked, pausing Spencer mid-step. He watched a few other nurses file out, and Spencer felt his heart beat a little faster in his chest.

“Yes?” He answered, breath held.

“Mrs. Reid is awake. You are more than welcome to go in there, but don’t put her on any additional stress.”

Spencer had barely said ‘thank you’ before he was hightailing it to the side of your bed. He felt the wind rush out of his lunge when he saw you blinking harshly, eyes trying to adjust to the light.

“Hey sweetheart,” Spencer whispered, tears trailing down his cheeks. He sat down and carefully took your callused hands in his.

You cleared your throat. “Hi,” you said finally, voice gravely from disuse. “You okay?”

A watery laugh bubbled out of Spencer. “You fall off a building and you ask me if okay. Baby, I love you so much.”

“Takes more than a fall to take me away from you, husband,” you murmured, letting your hand trace Spencer’s cheek. “But… how is everyone doing? I heard some of the things you guys said when I was… out, but I want to hear from you.”

The genius looked away, salty tears dampening his beautiful eyelashes. “Hotch is planning to prosecute the guys who made the safety harness that you wore because we all know you never would have worn something that was unsafe or had been recalled. We’ve just…” Spencer sniffled, turning his head to look back at you, “I guess we’ve just kept busy.”

You hummed. “How long will I be out of the showbusiness?”

Spencer looked at you, your eyes tired despite all the sleep you had been getting. He knew your world would shatter when he told you that you’d be in recovery for at least another year and a half. Your lipped twitched- an attempt to get the man you loved to smile. Yet again Spencer felt his heart crack: this was going to break you. “Doc says… about two years.”

The pointer finger still tracing Spencer’s face stilled. Your face blanked and Spencer felt the ari leave his lungs at how you looked at him. “What did you say?”

Spencer took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles as his tears fell onto your own and then slid down down down to the cold hospital floor. “Two years, baby.”

“Years. Tw-Two years,” you repeated in a whisper. “Two years.”

Spencer’s eyes shut. Your head fell back on the pillow, eyes boring holes into the ceiling as your own tears welled in your eyes.

“I know, baby, I know,” Spencer cried as you wept silently.

“You got this, wife,” Spencer whispered, pecking the crown of your head before going to stand across you, metal bars on either side of the wheelchair you carefully stood from.

It was your twenty third day of physical therapy, and boy was it hell. Your entire bottom half hurt, feeling as if fire consumed your muscles as you shakily got used to being on your feet again. Your back hurt the worst, though. You tried to play it off the best you could, but when the shooting pain took hold of the sensitive nerves of your spine, you couldn’t do more than screw your eyes shut andprace your head for the inevitable fall.

It had been getting better, you thought. Taking your first six steps was getting easier. Getting out of the pool was easier, and you could stand up without yelping in pain. But still, as you pushed through eveey PT session, you couldn’t help but feel disgusted at yourself for not being able to do basic human activities.

Spencer really atuck to his vows, remaining steadfast at your side through everything. He was at your every beck and call, updating you on your coworkers and all the other people you’d grown close to as a welder and as a woman. Spence took pride being able to help you, being your rock as you always are for him.

Aaron was actively prosecuting the company that produced the faulty equipment. As requested by Spencer, Aaron didn’t tell you much. It was better in both of their minds that you focused on recovery and not having Hotch dumb down the details of legal stuff- not that you were dumb, you just weren’t as educated as Spencer and Aaron. Obviously.

Penelope made a point to bring you food every other day. With her she brought a big hug, warm smile, and hot tea. You listened closely to the gossip she had to share, grateful that she didn’t try overly hard to comfort you- she was just like a sister in that way.

Emily stopped by when she could, but understandably had other plans for her time off; i.e.: napping. When she came Emily brought a book or two she had seen and thought of you about or a magazine.

J.J. tried as hard as Penny did, bringing Henry and Will whenever possible. You appreciated the family, feeling fully accepted as J.J.’s soul sister, despite only knowing Spencer’s coworkers for almost a year. Henry had clicked with you right away and told you stories as he snuggled up to you in the hospital bed. When he fell asleep, Will and J would make conversation with you.

Derek had dinner with you and Spencer every weekend. He brought something new every time and always shut sown your protests at how expensive it must have been, aspecially since the three of you combined could eat $300 worth of food- having fast metabolism and being an athletic person was worth bragging about while shoving half pound birgers into your mouth. Despite just the good food, Derek made sure to talk with just you, offering a deep conversation or a lightheard bickering session, letting you know you weren’t alone.

Rossi visited every time he had time. David had grown fond of you and your personality. You were a hardworking, sincere, and (painfully) honest person. All admirable traits, Rossi thought. He always brought flowers, chocolate, and a milkshake/smoothie for you. Though his visits were shorter in comparison to Derek’s or Penny’s, David visited more frequently. He filled you in on details of the lawsuit Aaron was working on, staff drama, and other fatherly conversation.

Slowly, the months passed.

60 more days passed before the hospital finally brought up your discharge.

Through all that time you had managed to re-gain the ability to walk, run, swim 2 laps uninterrupted, and were improving daily.

You were proud of your progress, but especially thankful of all the people that had stood by your side the entire way. Your eyes burned just thinking about the love Spencer’s family your family had for you.

When one of the nurses you had grown close to finally brought up your discharge, you threw your arms around her and practically cried tears of joy. Spencer kept his composure better, but you could see the shine in his eyes as he discussed the details as you pulled yourseld away from the nurse.

The team was on a case when you reported back to them, but J.J. and Derek immediately set up a quick video call to voice their happiness. Even Aaron stepped in frame, a warm smile on his face as he spoke of how happy he was for you. David showed up right at the end. You swear you saw a tear roll down his cheek as he told you how proud he was of you, how strong you are, and how thankful he is that you’re okay.

Beside you, Spencer ran his hands through your hair with a shaking hand. He, too, cried.

It was two weeks later when you shoved your bags in the back of your truck (you insisted it be the vehicle Spencer drove home) and left the hospital.

“I love you Spencer Walter Reid.”

The two of you stood, leaning against each other, in front of your home. The feeling of Spencer’s warm body under your touch made you feel alive- electric, even. You felt like you could do anything as you carried your own bags into your own home with your own husband.

With Spencer by your side, you were finally learning how to live again.

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upslapmeal · 5 months

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Notes from the Taskmaster 16x10 recording

The last two episode recordings I went to, I meant to make comprehensive notes when I got home afterwards that I would be able to look back at and post when the episode aired. I did not, in fact, end up doing that. So this time I was determined to have lots of notes, and made them on the go in the breaks in recording. However. They were made in a rush and I never went back through them to pad them out (you'd really think I would have learned by now). So instead of just having to rely on my memory, I ended up with an almost coded list of words and phrases that it's taken me pretty much 2 weeks to sit down and decipher lol. So with that said:

the pre-episode Greg-Alex entertainment was Greg getting Alex to sing a song about a recent news story to the tune of a song suggested by the audience - in this case it was Trump's lawsuit (the one in May 2023 since there are...a few) to the tune of Wuthering Heights

Alex really went for the whole live thing, and was constantly referring to it throughout the episode

when the contestants came onstage, I obviously first saw Sam in his bright colours and blond hair

we were right on the back balcony and my first impression from that distance was that he kinda looked like Jamie Laing lol

Greg made a passing comment about how he's been dressing in grey but I was completely taken by surprise when the vt rolled and he looked completely different!

I had assumed he'd actually buzzed his hair and didn't realise it was a wig until the ep aired

Sue made comments throughout the episode about how Sam looked like Dahmer

Lucy's prize task story, unsurprisingly, went on for ages and included a whole story about the holiday they went on that I tragically cannot remember

I was so glad they didn't cut 'untaffled' because I looked through my notes before again before watching the episode and couldn't for the life of me remember what she'd said

Greg's said that his immediate response to naked Alex in the prize task was that he was 'smooth like an eel'

After Julian's prize task there was a discussion about how people wanted to be buried, and at one point (I wish I could remember the conversation leading up to this) either Greg or Alex said they would be buried 'together forever in the Victoria monument'

There was a whole long debate about whether Sam intended to use nature as part of his doughnut task, and whether the bird toppling Ms Doughnut to her death should be counted

Greg told Sam to 'convince me to give you 3 points'

Sam went on talking about how amazing nature is and how we're all connected and at one point said 'consider the statistics.....3000' (I'm 99% sure this is what he said and I didn't just forget the rest of the quote)

Julian's exercise name was absolutely not a one-off, to the point they started running a 'cunt count' for the episode

Sue talked about how she had recently had an ADHD diagnosis, and that she kept viewing tasks holistically rather than paying attention to the details. This was specifically in relation to the exercise where she just did the same thing 4 times

I'm not sure if we saw the full extended version of Hotel Taskmaster, but we definitely saw a cut that included more than the aired version (though tbh I think they do that for most tasks and I just noticed this one bc we got the extended version)

We got an 'I put it to you' from Greg that Alex-as-Qrs looked genuinely cool

Lucy described Alex as having 'tight metallic buns' which Greg later referred to as his 'robot arse'

I cannot stress how much of a breakdown Susan had in the studio about the forks and marbles - you get a glimpse in the episode but that was nothing!

Susan also took AGES to do her throw in the live task - she kept on being about to throw before being interrupted, or saying her arms were too short, or that she needed a wee, or having a fit of giggles, and the longer it went the worse it got lol

Greg and Alex also had a go at it, and Sue wanted another go without the pressure. Greg and Sue got the ball in but Alex didn't

Don't ask me to remember the context, but at one point during the record, Greg told a story about someone he knew (whose name he said he would tell the others backstage) who would have sex in a cow mask and would demand 'LOOK AT ME!!!'. Anyway that was referred back to a few times in the ep

When Sam was given the trophy he just stood near-motionless with it for what felt like ages before we got to the hugs and everything

And now we enter the magical world of ~what on earth was this note referring to~ where I just hope someone else who was there (@politicalprocrastinator how's your memory?) sees this and can fill me in on what I've forgotten:

At some point around the prize / first task I wrote 'correct dog guess'. Whose dog? What was being guessed? Absolutely no idea

At some point there was a joke about the 'former Prime Minister', I think the idea being that by the time the episode aired we'd inevitably have a new PM? but I honestly can't remember

Someone called someone else submissive in a way notable enough for me to have written 'submissive' as a one-word bullet point, but not notable enough for me to actually remember

And now three bullet points which I will present in their original form:

Birthday

Bum hole in back

Get in bath

#posted on reddit so I thought I'd put it here too #taskmaster #ramblings

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lambtotheslaughterr · 15 days

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I Burn : Part Seven

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 3.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART SIX | MASTERLIST | PART EIGHT

note* reminder to new people on the taglist, to remain on a taglist, you have to interact with the work you want to be tagged in. that can be either commenting, reblogging, dropping an ask, or dming me to discuss your thoughts. taglist is a privelege, if you don't follow my rule about interacting you will be removed. this is my only warning. thank you!<3

Today was a day of celebration. Siena had completed her 12 week program & she would be leaving tomorrow. As always is the case when a patient successfully completes their program, there is a going away party. You were mildly looking forward to it, an excuse to not think about all the shit going wrong in your life, but you weren’t looking forward to having to socialize amongst those who were not happy with you. Albert, namely.

You got dressed a couple hours before the party. It had been a couple days since you practically busted his door down in search of comfort. And comfort he did give.

He consoled you, talked with you through your fears & guilt, reassured you that the lawsuit was nothing you could have predicted therefore out of your control. It was not your fault John was choosing to sue your father. Dr. Mooney, like your mother, agreed that the likelihood of John winning was slim. He had eased your consciousness.

After you went to bed that night, you realized that what Rafe had told you at the beach was bullshit. Of course, your mind was preoccupied with the news your mother brought you, but at some point in the midst of your talk with Dr. Mooney, you began to pay attention to him closer. There was no indication that he was attracted to you, nor possessive of you like Rafe suggested. There was genuine care behind his eyes, he kept an appropriate distance from you, & his words never lingered to anything that would clue you in to any sort of desire. Dr. Mooney was there to help you. Whatever Rafe interpreted that as was just that, an interpretation.

And now, more than ever, Dr. Mooney was your only friend in the facility. After your blow up in group, there was no one other than him who smiled when you appeared or entertained small talk with you. Part of you still felt like shit about what you had said to Albert, but you couldn’t sit on it forever. You said what you said. There was nothing to do about it except apologize & hope for the best.

It’s why you went to the party early. The lawn behind the building had been turned into a festivity. There were few tables with tablecloths, tables along the windows that peered into the group session room that held the food & drinks, none of which were alcoholic of course. And there were congratulation balloons billowing in the light breeze. You hoped to get to the party earlier in the hopes of talking to Albert. But after twenty minutes, you were still the only one there.

Heading back inside, you intended to go looking for him, but as you were about to round a corner to head back to the youth wing, you walked abruptly into another.

There was no hiding the sound of annoyance you made when your eyes met Rafe’s.

“What’s your problem?” He questioned, matching your hostile energy.

“Looking at it.” You glowered, attempting to bypass him, but Rafe was quick to snatch your elbow in his hand. You ripped your arm from his grip, rounding on him quickly, “Stay the fuck away from me.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened at that. Before you could resist further, Rafe suddenly dragged you into the closest room, which also happened to be the group session room. You weren’t too worried about being trapped with him. After all, it was the middle of the day & everyone would be walking by the door any moment. You’d make this quick.

“What the fuck.” You groaned, glaring at him as he tried to shut the door behind the both of you. But you threw your hand out to stop him, keeping the door open for anyone walking by to see in.

“You’re avoiding me.” He stated.

You blinked, cocking your head sassily, “Great observation. Now leave me alone.”

“What’s your problem?”

“You.” You seethed, stepping forward. “I’m done letting you fuck with my head.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” You poked his chest, “I may be fucked up in my own ways, but at least I don’t play with people’s heads & emotions, making them feel confused & scared.”

Rafe rolled his eyes at that, unimpressed with your stance, “Scared? Don’t be such a little bitch.”

Hot rage coursed your veins. You wasted no time in shoving him, “That’s what I mean!”

A look of surprise flashed across his face at your gentle assault, & you wished you could revel in it, but you had other priorities that needed your attention. “You claim you’re looking out for me by telling me some bullshit about Dr. Mooney wanting me & now you’re calling me a bitch because I’m calling you out. You’re fucking twisted, dude.”

A displeased smirk appeared on his face then, “Takes one to know one, right?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You spit, “From now on, don’t talk to me, don’t look at me. I don’t even want to fucking hear your voice.”

“Or what?” Rafe stood with his feet shoulder’s width apart, crossing his arms over his chest & tucking his hands under his armpits, “What are you gonna do, _____?”

You didn’t crack in your facial expression, but you did stumble internally. What could you do? Nothing, really. But you needed Rafe to know that he wouldn’t get his sick amusement out of you anymore.

Shaking your head, you made to leave, but Rafe slapped his hand on the door, slamming it shut, before shoving you against it & tightening his hold on one of your wrists to keep you from moving.

“Not a damn thing.” He stared down at you, his voice low. “You’re helpless. Weak.”

His words penetrated your skin, but you wouldn’t let them sink further.

“No.” You shook your head, “You are. And you don’t like that I see you for the monster you are.”

Rafe’s eyes flashed darkly then. It was your turn to smirk, “See? There you are.”

Before you could react, Rafe harshly gripped your chin, shoving your head against the wood of the door, right before he claimed your mouth with his.

You gasped into the aggressive kiss, your body regretfully lighting up at the action. You instinctively threw your hands up, placing them on his solid chest in an attempt to push him off, but Rafe wrapped his other arm around your waist, crushing his body against yours.

The burning between your thighs returned with a vengeance. As much as you hated this guy, couldn’t trust him as far as you could threw him, & knew that he only viewed you as a toy to pass the time, you couldn’t deny how well your bodies meshed together. Like they were each other’s missing puzzle piece.

Rafe growled into the kiss, the hand that was holding your chin, now kneading itself into the tresses of your hair at the nape of your neck. You sighed into his mouth, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

Fuck this man. You battled with yourself. You knew how you felt about him, there was no more confusion about that. But fuck if your body didn’t still want his.

He pulled away then, his eyes peering darkly into yours, “Your monster wants mine just as bad.”

Your chest heaved as you bit your lip, torn between glaring at him angrily or jumping his bones. Never in your life have you hated your body more than now. You knew well-enough & understood the urge & desperate desire to fuck someone, but wanting to rip them to shreds at the same time was a new mixture that had your head dizzy.

“When you’re done being scared, you know where to find me.” Rafe told you. Then he swiftly nicked his knuckle against your chin before exiting the room.

Finally alone, you let out a heavy breath. You stayed there a moment longer to shake away the lingering sensation of his hands on your body. You needed a clear head. Regardless if what he said had some minor truth to it, you were determined to avoid him until it was your going away party. Double checking your hair & clothes were in place, you finally left the room, dreading how the rest of the day may go.

Albert was inaccessible. About an hour into Siena’s party, & he had yet to stray away anywhere by himself. It was like he knew what you were wanting to do & was making it, so you’d have to apologize in front of everyone. But you had too much pride for that.

Rafe left you alone, too. Much to your surprise, he was sitting with Renee. You wondered what a conversation between the two of them would be like, but you wouldn’t be going over to find out. You kept to yourself the whole time, constantly watching & waiting for an opportunity to get Albert alone. You were sitting by yourself at a table in the shade when the sound of glass clinking drew everyone’s attention.

It was Dr. Mooney who stood near the tables of food & drinks.

“As everyone knows, today is a pretty special day.” He began as he found Siena amongst the people with his eyes. There was a good mix of patients & faculty, about 30 people or so.

“When Siena came to our facility, she had little hope about succeeding in her recovery. But all of us together with her have gotten her to a place where she feels confident & secure moving forward. And now, today, we celebrate her program coming to a close & going out into the world a new & healthier Siena Cortez.”

People clapped & smiled, a few cheers here & there. You watched as Siena looked uncomfortable with the attention, but Albert was there next to her to shake her, helping her not feel awkward.

“Siena,” Dr. Mooney smiled in her direction, “you have made myself, your family, your friends, & everyone here present very proud. You dedicated your time here to recovering &, dare I say, showed no struggle in the effort. You are a true example that one can get better as long as they believe in it.”

She pursed her lips to hide her smile, but Albert knocked his hip into hers, forcing her smile to crack open. You found yourself smiling along with her. More so, you couldn’t wait for the day when it would be you standing in her shoes.

“So, enjoy this party we put together for you. Say your goodbye’s, but know that when you leave here tomorrow, you have made a new family that believes in you every step of the way.”

“Thank you, guys.” Siena mumbled, but everyone clapped.

Dr. Mooney raised his glass of non-alcoholic champagne, “To Siena & her future.”

You morosely raised your glass alongside everyone else before emptying the contents into your mouth.

The music got turned up then & patients & faculty began to form a dance floor between the tables. Albert was in the midst of it all, dancing with Siena as she giggled happily to herself. You picked at your nails under the table, watching longingly as nearly everyone around you was enjoying themselves. If you hadn’t burned the bridges that others built to reach you, you’d be there in the middle with them.

Growing upset with yourself, you were about to stand up & excuse yourself to the closest bathroom, but before you could, Dr. Mooney appeared across the table from you. He placed his empty glass on the table, before leaning forward, “Don’t you want to dance? It’s not often you guys get to have fun like this.”

You shrugged, but tried to hide your discomfort with a smile, “I’m okay with just watching.”

Dr. Mooney’s smile saddened at that. You inhaled sharply as you watched him sit down across from you. You really didn’t want one of his positive lectures right now, not in front of everyone. Not like anyone would really be paying attention, but still.

“What’s going on, _____?”

“Nothing!” You cringed at how forced you sounded. You cleared your voice, trying again, “Really, nothing. I’m okay.”

He peered at you for a moment longer before glancing over his shoulder at the handful of people who were dancing. You followed his line of sight, your eyes falling onto Albert. As if he felt eyes watching him, Albert glancing your way as Siena spun him around. There was no hiding the hurtful look in his eyes before he focused his attention back to dancing with Siena.

“You two haven’t spoken yet, I gather?”

You sighed. There was no point in answering Dr. Mooney’s question. It was quite obvious.

“Would you like me to get him for you?”

Mortified at his suggestion, like he was a father trying to solve an issue between his kids, you jumped forward, “No, Dr. Mooney, please. It’s fine.”

He nodded, “You’re adults. You’ll find it in yourselves to figure it out, I trust.”

You certainly hoped so but knew you wouldn’t try very hard for very long.

“Dr. Mooney.” Nurse Carney appeared, “Your wife is on the phone. She said she’s been trying to ring you.”

“Oh.” Dr. Mooney patted himself down, frowning, “Must have left my phone in the office.”

Nurse Carney smiled kindly, “She’s on hold at the front desk.”

“Thank you, Kiera.” Dr. Mooney stood then, his eyes falling to you, “Try to have fun, okay?”

You nodded. Nurse Carney followed behind him as they disappeared inside. Relieved at being alone yet again, you watched for only a moment as people around you mingled about & enjoyed the beautiful day. After a couple minutes of aimless staring, you remembered you were going to go to the bathroom for a short while. Just to get away.

Throwing your paper plate of mostly untouched food into a nearby trash, you headed inside. The nearest bathroom would be on the other side of the main office. As you passed by the front desk, you noted that Dr. Mooney wasn’t there. Down the hallway behind the front desk, you noticed the door to his office was closed. You guessed he was taking the call from his wife there.

Inside the bathroom, you splashed your face with water & put your hair up. You stared at yourself for some time. Looking yourself up & down, but not in appraisal. You imagined your near future. Maybe you’d go to college, make something of yourself. You pictured meeting someone handsome & kind. Someone who wouldn’t judge your past. Most of all, you hoped that your dad would look at you with love again, or at least something close to it. Attending Siena’s going away party had forced you to think & feel about the future. Your future. How you truly wanted to be better. For everyone & yourself.

A knock on the door tore you away from your reverie. You sighed heavily before rolling your eyes. You also couldn’t wait to not live under the same roof as 20 other people.

Swinging open the door, you were about to step out to let whoever was waiting in when you paused. Renee leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed with a knowing expression on her face.

“Hey, Nympho.”

You groaned, “What do you want?”

She smiled coyly, responding to you in a sing-song tone, “I know something you don’t know.”

You hardly interacted with Renee, but whenever you did, it was always filled with rigid tension.

“I don’t care.” You replied in a sarcastic sing-song tone of your own.

You passed by her, but she spoke up behind you, “I doubt that. But whatever. Your problem, not mine.”

You stopped in your walk, rolling your eyes. You knew she was likely baiting you, but her quick dismissal of it did peak your curiosity.

Turning around, you raised your eyebrows, “What? What is it?”

Renee sighed dreamily, “Well, what with all the excitement & soaring feelings of hope flying around because of Siena’s party & watching you daydream out there, I just thought you should know yours won’t be for a long while.”

Oh, so she was just being bitchy. You should’ve known. You were about to turn & walk away for a second time when Renne hollered out, “I can prove it to you.”

“I’m not falling for it.” You tossed over your shoulder.

“But Dr. Mooney is.”

What? Halting, you glared at the ground. You heard as her footfalls grew closer until she was standing right in front of you.

“What are you talking about?” You seethed.

Renee grinned, “I’m talking about how I overheard your favorite doctor on the phone with your daddy. I only got one end of it, but it sounds like your dad is willing to pay Dr. Mooney more money under the table to keep you here, at least until he wins the lawsuit.”

You wanted to call bullshit, & to claw her eyes out. But Renee was talking about things she would have no clue of. Grabbing her shoulders fiercely, you backed her into the nearest wall. You took brief pleasure in the shocked gasp that escaped her as her shoulders met the wall.

“Jesus, calm down.” She shoved your arms off, “I thought it’d be a dream come true for you to stay here with your doctor.”

“Shut up. Just tell me everything you know.”

She glared at you but continued nonetheless, “Just look at his notes, everything you’ll need to know will be there.”

His notes? “His notepad?”

“Uh, doy.” Renee rolled her eyes, “The one he carries everywhere for group session & one-on-one.”

“How do you fucking know that it’d be on there?” You were growing angrier. Though you couldn’t deny there was some merit to what she was saying, why the hell would Dr. Mooney keep any kind of info like that on his notepad?

“Dr. Mooney isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.” Renee claimed, “I read it every now & then. It’s how I know more about your issues than I should. About everyone’s.”

“You’re lying.” You pushed her again & her eyes widened in fury.

“Why would I fucking lie?” She argued.

Why would she really, you reasoned with yourself. You & Renee didn’t get along, but even this would be a new low for her. Besides, what would be in it for her anyways?

“Show me.” You gestured your head towards the back hallway. “Now, Renee.”

“Ugh, god, whatever.” With that, Renee pushed off from the wall & rounded the front desk, heading down the center hallway of the building where Dr Mooney’s office was. Following closely behind Renee, you could faintly make out the sounds of the party outside. Everyone would be distracted. You & Renee would have time to get in, see for yourself what she was claiming, & then get out. But part of you hoped she was wrong. She had to be.

Just a few feet away from Dr. Mooney’s office, Renee stopped in her track. She had her arms crossed over her chest, “Go ahead. I’ll be look out.”

You wanted to argue with her, but knew that you wouldn’t have the time do get in & out like you wanted. So, you bypassed her & went straight for the door.

Had you really taken a moment to think clearly about everything, you wouldn’t have found yourself turning the knob. If you had stopped to really question Renee & get details, you wouldn’t have opened the door. And if only you had just taken a moment to yourself before entering, really asking yourself if you needed answers in that exact second, you probably would have heard the commotion going on inside before you entered. But you weren’t the slow & patient kind of girl.

“Oh, my god…” You couldn’t hide the gasp that came out of your mouth when you barely took an inch into the room.

The two people before you yelped & scrambled to get dressed but it didn’t matter. You had seen everything you needed to see.

“_____, what the hell are you doing?” Dr. Mooney demanded, but the authority in his voice was nothing compared to that of him struggling to get his pants back over his legs. All the while Nurse Carney pulled a dress on over her head & raked her fingers through her hair.

You felt betrayed, violated. Not because you just walked in on Dr. Mooney fucking someone, but because you walked in on someone whom you trusted to be honest, good, & genuine. Yet there he was, fucking a woman who was not his wife. Fucking a woman who worked under him. Fucking in his office during a going away party for a patient of his.

A new burning sensation fulfilled you then. Not the kind you were used to. You didn’t feel like tearing your clothes off & slipping your fingers into yourself. You felt absolute & unbridled fury. This man—this pathetic liar of a man—was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And he had fooled you most of all.

You registered the look of guilt on both their faces. Nurse Carney as she tried to hide behind her hair, & Dr. Mooney, who tried to hide behind his status. But you saw him for what he was. A false mentor.

Giving them both what you knew to be one of the gnarliest glares of judgement, you spun on your heel & stormed down the hallway. You didn’t miss the gleeful expression on Renee’s face as you bypassed her, & you couldn’t bother with it.

You had little hope coming to this facility, especially because you truly didn’t think you had a problem to begin with. But Dr. Mooney opened your eyes. He listened to you, he didn’t judge you, he swore he cared about you. He gave you the hope you didn’t know you needed. You wanted to make him proud, prove to him that you were worth the time & effort. That you were someone worth believing in. You wanted to be just like him. But he was the one who let you down. He failed you, not the other way around.

And he would regret it. That, you promised.

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the-ace-with-spades · 1 month

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Part 1 (or some of it) of a 5+1 jealous! Eddie fic I started ages ago back when Eddie was still dating Ana... Or Buck starts dating a guy, Eddie has a realization (or five) about Buck's taste in men and is entirely ridiculous about it

Buck’d been weird the last few weeks. Eddie couldn’t pinpoint in what way, or why, or even what changed, but he had been weird and it was unsettling Eddie — Buck was his rock, his one constant, his own anchor. Usually, being weird meant Buck was having problems he didn’t want anyone to know but it didn’t seem to be the case this time — there was no tenseness to him, no dropped shoulders, no distant looks. Eddie decided to wait. It wasn’t like he could force Buck into talking about it, even if he had known what it was.

So instead Eddie took a well-deserved shower and changed his uniform for a new one — the last call was nasty — and tried to look unsuspicious as he climbed up to the loft, taking a quick look at Bobby, preparing lunch, with Chim as the dishwasher, and then instantly turning to Buck and Hen. Hen was going over her medical textbooks again, but it was clear she wasn’t into it today, it had been a long day and it was showing on everyone.

But Buck didn’t look even a bit tired

“Do you want to stay the night today? Chris has been asking about building a fort again and you know I hate it—”

But before he could make even more poorly worded excuses that Buck usually would be tricked into while ignoring the obvious hope in Eddie’s voice, Hen said, from the other end of the table, “Isn’t it the date night tonight?”

Eddie frowned. He didn’t have a habit of telling anyone from the team about his dates with Marisol — aside from Buck — and he certainly didn’t have another date planned at least for a week.

Eddie opened his mouth—

And Buck froze, wide eyes blinking, and Eddie could see his face turning red, his skin getting blotchy down to the neck of his navy blue collar.

“Hen,” he said, sounding a bit breathless.

"What? I lasted long enough, you've been checking your phone all day, lover boy," Hen said, putting her book down on her lap.

She had that familiar quirked brow, like she was unimpressed, but she also looked at Buck like he was the punchline to a joke she was in the process of making.

She was obviously wrong because Buck would have told him if he was going on a date.

Or not.

"It's still new," Buck said, still red in the face. At that point, even his ears were turning red. "I'm excited, sue me."

"No lawsuits in this firehouse," Chim shouted from the kitchen.

There was a familiar sound and Chim groaned quietly from the kitchen annex—Bobby swatted his arm with the dishcloth.

"Hate to break it to you, but you two have been dating for almost two months, it's not new," Hen pointed out.

And that was alarming information. Because Eddie could understand not knowing about Buck's first date or even second date but this? This meant he had been kept in the dark for many of those dates already and going by the lack of reaction from anyone else, he was the only one.

"Two months?" he asked, moving closer to the couch Buck was sitting on. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's new," Buck repeated. Which was a weak excuse — it's been two months apparently and everyone else knew already.

"Is our Buckaroo shy?" Hen said, leaning over the table like she wanted to pinch Buck's very pink and very pouting cheeks. She probably would have if they were sitting closer.

"Maybe," Buck said, shrugging. “Maybe I just don’t want him to run away the minute he meets you guys.”

"Come on, Buckley," Chim perked up, coming from the kitchen and draping himself over the back of Hen's backseat. "You know if he did, he wouldn't be worth it. And Maddie's been asking for a coffee date with him for weeks now because you go on, like, two dates a week, at least."

There were a couple of seconds Buck opening and closing his mouth, like a fish underwater, and Eddie waited for an explanation. Any kind of explanation, really.

"We're taking it slow," is all Buck answered it with, like a broken machine.

And those were the exact same words Eddie had been using while describing his relationship with Marisol, but somehow it didn’t make him feel better about it. Quite the opposite — it suddenly felt like he couldn't let his breath out, like he was about to punch something in a second and couldn't get the air in his lungs out until he was about to collide his first with this something.

"Come on, kid," Hen said, sounding very close to the original punchline. This time, she leaned over the table and patted Buck's knee. Chim stood behind her with a smirk that suggested he was also on in the punchline.

Eddie couldn't see anything funny about this.

At the pat, Buck looked at Hen, then he looked at Eddie, a bit wide-eyed, and Eddie couldn't help crossing his arms over his chest. At that, Buck abruptly stood up, hopping over the table's edge with his usual energy, narrowly avoiding him and stepping into the direction of the kitchen.

"Do you need any help, Cap?"

As soon as he said that, in a tone that was slightly too high-pitched to be genuine, his phone rang from his back pocket. Everyone turned to him and Hen snorted, sharing an amused look behind her shoulder with Chimney.

Bobby turned around from the stove with an equally amused gaze, even though he tried to hide it even more.

The ringtone was unfamiliar and irritating.

"No, not for now, but thank you," Bobby said, his eyebrows raising meaningfully before he added, "You should probably get that, don't want to keep him waiting. Dinner in ten."

Buck walked away, taking his phone back out of his pocket. He smiled at the screen and it was the same smile he had when Eddie showed him whatever picture of Chris Carla had sent him that day — soft and calm and a bit dreamy. Eddie didn’t like it.

He liked it even less when Buck finally picked the call and in a tone somehow even softer, answered with a, “Hey.”

He didn't like it. In fact, he hadn't liked the whole conversation to begin with and the way everyone had been so casual about Buck dating some girl they never met was—

"Wait," he blurted out, "did Buck say he?"

“Yeah?” Chim said, casually sitting down next to Hen and picking up the remote to the TV. “I think the guy’s name is something starting with a d? David, maybe? Maddie would know, I try to tune their talks out, Buck’s like another annoying little brother to me, I don’t need to hear him gush about his date’s eyes.”

“Oh my,” Hen exclaimed, putting down her book on the table now and turning to Chimney like he held all the secrets of the world. “Buck gushes about the guy’s eyes?”

Suddenly, Chim froze, staring into space with the remote hovering in the air, like he realized he had said too much.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied finally, words coming out of his mouth too quickly.

Eddie was unimpressed—deeply.

“I’m sorry, are we going to ignore the whole he part? Since when Buck dates guys?”

At that, Chim relaxed, even though Hen was still looking at him like he was the main source of gossip. Which he was.

“I mean, Buck is bisexual, I think? He’s been out basically since his first week here.”

“Pansexual,” Hen corrected. Or Eddie supposed she corrected, because he had no idea what pansexual meant, aside from that it meant that Buck dates men. And that was the whole point of this, whatever this was.

"Buck isn't straight?"

"What?" Hen asked, glancing at him, book already back in her hand. "You're acting like this is brand new information."

"This is brand new information."

"I mean, you weren't here for the Buck 1.0 but I figured you would know by now," Chim remarked, a bit confused.

"Yeah, he went to Pride with Karen and I the first year you were here, got so drunk we had to drag his body out of the bar and into the car. He slept on our kitchen floor," Hen explained, shaking her head a bit. She frowned again, adjusting her glasses. "I'm sure I told you about it."

She did. She did and Eddie hadn’t connected the dots—their going-out being on the date of Pride and the bar Hen mentioned being in West Hollywood—and let himself think that Buck was not only out of his league but also playing a completely different sport for another three years, almost.

“Eddie,” Hen spoke up again, this time her tone reminding him of the way she spoke to kids on their calls. “He’s still Buck. Let him have this.”

“Yeah,” Chim chorused. “I haven’t seen the guy so enthusiastic about someone in a very long time. He’s this close to being lovesick again.”

Chim raised his hand, his thumb and point index finger so close it almost looked like they were touching. Eddie glared at them, not appeased at all.

“How do you know this—this guy—” He couldn’t even say this. He would’ve known. Buck would’ve told him. He didn’t like this at all. “—is actually good for him? How do you know it’s not another Abby or Veronica or Taylor or—”

“Or?” Hen prodded.

“Look, Buck is trying to move on,” Chim began, confusing Eddie even more.

“Chim—”

Chim got a slap to the arm from Hen for whatever he was saying but Chim continued nonetheless.

“Let him be happy, alright? Let him fall in love with this guy first and worry later.”

He crossed his arms again — didn't like it. In fact, he didn't understand why no one was sharing the same feeling. “You talk about it like he already did.”

“Buck loves easy but he doesn’t fall in love easy,” Hen said, like Eddie didn't know that already. Like it wasn't the part that was scaring him the most about this situation. Because they were talking about it like Buck was already deep enough with this guy — a guy that Eddie didn't even know existed five minutes ago, a guy that Eddie didn't even know was an option for Buck — like he was already falling for him. “They are really taking it slow, I bet, snail-pace probably. Just, support him with this, Eddie. It’s the least we can do.”

Both Chim and Hen looked at him expecting him to fold and that just didn't sit with them well. Buck was dating some guy, some guy they hadn't even met yet, for months and he didn't tell Eddie. How could they not just feel the same dread, the drop in the stomach, and the heat in the chest, as Eddie did? It was wrong and he could feel it. He couldn't just let it be.

He turned to Bobby, looking for help. “You’re not going to say anything about it?”

Bobby shrugged, not glancing up from where he was counting plates.

“Buck is like a—" he began and then he frowned. "Buck is important to me, to this family. We can’t shield him from everything we want to and I think,” he finally said. “I think it’s good that he is getting out there, I think that he needs to have someone, needs to feel like he isn’t alone.”

That didn't help the dread worse — that made the dread worse, his whole body stiffening like he was a step away from turning into a statue. It didn't help the burn under his heart and all his mind could think was it's wrong, it's wrong, wrong, wrong, wrongwrongwrong.

“He isn’t alone. He has me and Chris,” he replied over the knot in his throat.

Chin snorted to his left, somewhere vaguely in the background. “You really think he will be alright his whole life with you and—”

“Buck is the one making decisions,” Bobby interrupted. “He’s an adult. If he asks for advice, we’ll give it to him and if not and things fall through, we’ll be there for him. End of the discussion.”

#buddie #911 fox #911 abc #evan buckley #eddie diaz #charlie writes #q

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mazzystar24 · 5 months

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My 911 hills I will die on:

Eddie Diaz is gay

Buck has ADHD- the writers could come knocking on my door and tell me that he’s not and I still would argue with them with a PowerPoint and everything

The Buckley parents deserve to go straight to hell and their redemption arc makes me foam at the mouth (negative)

More on that: the insistence of a show that is so deeply rooted in the concept of found family to constantly give shitty parents redemption arcs is so irritating

Maddie Buckley didn’t raise buck since she was 9 years old while dealing with her own trauma or give him her jeep and money (AKA HER LITERAL SAFETY NET TO ESCAPE HER ABUSER) just so people can sit there and call her a bad sister -I’m a Maddie Buckley defender and I stand by that

Both sides were flawed with the lawsuit thing and neither should be too harshly judged- Bobby kept buck out when buck already proved himself but he was doing it out of protectiveness in his own flawed way because let’s be honest he just saw the guy he considers a son nearly die in front of him three times in one year and saw the PT and toll it all took through the whole process and keep in mind he’s already lost 2 kids already but buck also shouldn��t have sued impulsively or disclosed such intimate information and should’ve tried to take a more rational approach but let’s also be fair and remember this is the guy THAT DID GO THROUGH ALL THOSE THINGS IN THAT SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME like no one would be okay mentally, no one would be rational, not when you spend a shit ton of time to recover only to be told (in his brain at least) that it’s not enough from someone you not only consider as a mentor, friend and father figure but also the same person who was motivating you through your recovery

The way Shannon spoke about Christopher’s cerebral palsy will never not rub me the wrong way I’m sorry to any who love her

The way Natalia spoke about bucks death is also just a no from me

I actually hated the whole thing with Hen and the madney engagement like idk why the writing felt it was appropriate to try to compare Hen CHEATING (granted it was ooc and in season one) with Maddie suffering postpartum depression make it make sense- they could’ve had the same level of hen and chimney friendship moment/ hen looking out for him without doing this type of thing which just made me a little angry with hen while watching it but ultimately deciding this storyline doesnt exist in my brain

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ggukkiedae · 4 months

Text

the relationship progresses

date: november 17, 2018

warning/s: brief mention of yoonmi’s biological parents,self-doubt about being loved, kisses

notes from cia: aside from when yoonmi is talking to namjoon and yoongi, this whole piece is in english, please keep that in mind bc i don’t want to italicize every dialogue here it feels wrong (also gif not mine, it’s from pinterest)

word count: 2.8k

yoonmi and mark take the next step in their relationship

She groaned, choosing to bury her face in her pillow instead of getting up. As much as she loved and respected her leader, she really couldn’t be bothered waking up so early in the morning. The older’s deep chuckles resonated throughout the room as he turned to more… persuasive techniques.

Namjoon essentially nudged her until she was lying on her back then took her hands, pulling her up into a sitting position. Not wanting to give in, she kept her eyes closed and let her head fall backwards.

“I thought you’d be more excited to get up today,” Namjoon’s smirk was visible through the tone of his voice. “Don’t you have a date?”

Her eyes snapped open while she shot straight up on her own. Right, she was meeting Mark. With the slightest bit of panic, she threw her blanket to the side and checked her phone. She gave Namjoon a pout upon seeing the time.

“Oppa,” she hit his arm, “you know I don’t have to be there until eleven! Why would you wake me up at eight in the morning?”

“Breakfast should be a pretty valid reason,” Namjoon placed a tray on her bed filled with a plate of pancakes and a cup of water. “That, and I thought you’d like to hear a few updates regarding the lawsuit we filed against them.”

She frowned but nodded as she started eating. Though she had not needed to be directly involved aside from discussing terms she’d like to include in their movement against her birthgiver and sperm donor. They did, however, continuously try to contact her to get her to call it off. How they got her contact details, she’d never know.

“It’s all good news,” Namjoon reassured her. “Given the rules of the concert and the copyright statement of BigHit, it does count against their actions and is enough to incriminate them. A restraining order is being drafted out as well by the legal team, you and Yoonsung hyung can go through it together tomorrow morning.”

“That’s good,” a satisfied smile appeared on her face, “because I really don’t want to cross paths with them ever again.”

Her leader patted her head, “You won’t have to. You don’t even have to fly back to London for this, your brother has it under control.”

“Remind me to thank Yoonsung oppa tomorrow,” her body relaxed upon knowing for certain that she didn’t have to see those people anymore.

Namjoon opened his mouth to speak, but a knock on the door caught their attention.

Yoongi stepped into the room, “We leave at 10:15, alright, Princess?”

Yoonmi saluted, seeing as she had just taken a bite when Yoongi opened the door and prefered to wait until after she has swallowed to speak.

Yoongi nodded, crossing his arms. “Hannah said she wanted you there for dinner, so eat, don’t skip. I’ll be at their dorm to pick you up by 9:30 after. Be in my sight by 10, okay?”

“Got it,” she smiled at Yoongi, satisfied at him smiling back at her before he left the room once again.

Namjoon chuckled at the interaction of his members before standing up, “I’ll leave you to it, then. Stay safe today, stay hidden, and have fun.”

“Thank you, oppa.”

“The outfit you have ready is cute, but don’t forget a sweater,” he kissed her forehead and walked out the room.

Yoonmi sat quietly at the small cafe Yoongi dropped her off at, gently stirring her hot chocolate while trying not to fall asleep. Maybe hot chocolate wasn’t the best choice of drink when she was fighting her own eyelids to stay open.

It was a rare free Saturday that she had in the midst of filming SKY Castle, the Japan leg of the Love Yourself tour, and the beginnings of discussions for her solo comeback. To her surprised delight, Mark also had the day off.

With the couple’s schedules being full in the past year, they found it hard to see each other in person often, but they made it work with quick visits to dorms or small and timed dates to hidden places.

A smile made its way to her face.

Mark had stuck to his word and had patiently stayed by her side for the year he was courting her, and now, almost a year into officially being together, he stayed with her despite the hassle of their schedules.

Yoonmi wasn’t as oblivious as most people thought her to be, not when she already knew what to look for. She was aware that there was a good chance Mark loved her.

The look in his eyes whenever he was looking at her, she could see it in the way her older brother looked at his wife. How could she not recognize a look she had wanted upon her for so long?

But she was scared.

What if she was wrong? What if there was a reason he wasn’t saying anything? What right did she have to assume he was possibly waiting for her to say it first? What if she couldn’t say it? Would he get tired of her eventually?

“Did someone order a double chocolate chip cookie with a boyfriend on the side?”

Mark’s voice shocked her out of her thoughts as he placed a tray in front of her. He quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek and sat next to her.

Another thing they haven’t done in their nine-month long official relationship. They haven’t kissed. She wondered if Mark got frustrated with how slow she was taking things.

She shook her thoughts away, choosing to focus on her boyfriend. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, Little Star,” he intertwined their fingers, “I ran a little late because the hyungs were curious.”

A laugh escaped her, “They still don’t know, huh?”

They had made a bet when they first became official about who would be the last to find out from their members. Yoonmi had her bets on Yoongi, but Jungkook lost that bet for her. (Thus her making Yoongi and Mark bond when they can)

Mark had bet on Taeyong mostly because the leader was faced with handling the entirety of NCT alongside the addition of Hannah and Jungwoo into 127, making him too busy to notice.

“Just Hannah,” her boyfriend took a sip from his drink.

“And Hyuckie oppa.” Yoonmi’s revelation made Mark choke a little. He hit his chest to clear his throat while she rubbed his back. “Did you not know that he knows?”

“You told him?”

She shrugged and gave him an innocent look, “We’re best friends, that’s kinda how it works.”

Mark nodded, “Right, somehow there’s no secrets there. Thank god, I didn’t think I could keep it from him any longer.”

Yoonmi took a sip of her hot chocolate and gave a dramatic sigh, “Ah, my boyfriend Mark oppa, and his boyfriend Hyuckie oppa.”

Mark simply laughed at her before noticing her drooping eyelids. He leaned down, aligning his face with hers, soft concern making itself known through his expressions, “You’re basically falling asleep. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she reassured him, “I should be asking you that. Should I really be taking your rest time away from you?”

“You’re worth much more than my time,” he gently tucked stray pieces of her hair behind her ear and smiled. “How about this? We finish our snacks and our coffee, then we go back to my place and just have a lazy day. Sound good?”

She gave him an apologetic smile. Mark had already booked them tickets to visit an aquarium, meaning he spent money on their date for the day already, yet he was there offering to just not take the opportunity in favor of having a lazy day.

“Hey, I know that look on your face,” he tapped under her chin so she could look him in the eye, “no feeling guilty. I actually want to have a lazy day, I just want to hang out with my girlfriend. It doesn’t matter what we do. I can transfer the digital tickets to Hannah and Hyuck, anyway. They’d appreciate the aquarium.”

“I want to hang out with my boyfriend, too,” she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it.”

“Eat up, then,” he nuzzled his cheek to her head, “we have a lazy day ahead of us.”

The lazy day wasn’t working.

Given both their workaholic natures, Yoonmi and Mark had once again settled on their laptops, showing each other different things they have been working on and getting each other’s opinions.

Some may call them crazy for doing this when they could be leaving work behind them for another day, but they both enjoyed making music. Being busy is something they were both used to, as well.

That’s how they found themselves on Mark’s bed, laying on their stomachs while they were going through each other’s files. Well, she was on the bed. Mark had draped his arm around her shoulders, which led to her tucking her upper body partially under Mark’s torso so he could properly use both hands to navigate his laptop. Mark had finished his turn, so Yoonmi had pulled out a few tracks for him to listen to as well.

“Dude, this sounds really good,” Mark bopped his head as he listened to one of her potential songs for her comeback. “I think you could lower the tempo a bit in the chorus, but otherwise I really like it.”

“You think so?” she looked at him.

Her boyfriend simply smiled at her, “You know you make amazing songs. Here, let me set it up to the tempo I imagined, maybe you’ll like it.”

She just laughed and let him take over the keyboard. Usually, she’d keep people from touching her tracks unless they were her members or the in-house BigHit producers, but she trusted Mark.

Within a few minutes, he played the song back, watching her intently as she took it in. A smile graced her face upon the realization that Mark was right. The slower tempo worked better for the chorus and sounded more pleasing to listen to in combination with the verses.

“Save that, please,” she felt Mark rest his chin on her shoulder, “I’m taking that suggestion.”

He turned his head, placing a light kiss to her cheek before turning back to the screen in front of them, “I got you. And, save. Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to exit the… What’s this?”

“Oh,” she looked at the audio file open just behind the one she had originally shown him, “this one isn’t really finished yet. It’s actually more like word vomit from my brain straight into a track, but I think you should listen.”

She pressed play and zoned out, debating if she should excuse herself to the bathroom as soon as the first line played. In My Dreams was a song she made after their last in person date in early September, just before she left for LA. It was then when she realized that she didn’t just like him, she loved him. She was actually in love with him, and it scared her because she—despite all the signs she sees pointing to yes—was not completely 110% sure he loved her back.

Looking back at the past year in her life, she would have saved herself a lot of grief. That’s why she decided to let this cat out of the bag now that the opportunity had presented itself. She may not be absolutely certain of Mark’s response, but she could have hope in the signs he had been giving her, right?

She zoned back in when she recognized the end of the song, hand coming up to tug at the ends of her hair.

“Okay,” Mark retracted his body, resting his hand that was once around her on the middle of her back so he could see her better, “first of all, that was amazing. Second, I don’t want to get ahead of anything here, but did you write this on a whim, or is this something you wrote, like, I don’t know… How do I say this?”

“With you on my mind?” she offered, not meeting his eyes.

His gaze on her felt warm yet curious at the same time, “Yeah. That.”

“I did,” she focused her vision on her hands and hair, avoiding even looking at Mark through her peripheral vision. “I wrote it with you in mind.”

There was a moment of silence that passed between them that made Yoonmi internally panic. Maybe this was the wrong move. Maybe it wasn’t time for this yet.

A finger placed under her chin and turning her head broke her out of her panic, and she was met with the softest look in Mark’s eyes.

There it was. The look she saw on her brother when he was looking at his wife. She could see the same emotions so clearly in Mark’s eyes that most of her doubt melted away.

“For real?” he asked her. “I don’t want to assume anything or to rush you. We go at your pace, okay?”

That was it. She was going to say it. No regrets, no listening to doubts. She wanted Mark to know. She took a deep breath.

“I love you.”

Her voice came out almost like a whisper. It wasn’t as confident as she wanted to sound, but it was genuine and honest. That was what mattered.

A smile broke onto Mark’s face as the words processed in his mind. He sat up, pulling her along with him before standing up. Yoonmi watched curiously as he. walked around the bed, closer to her side and kneeling in front of her.

“Was that necessary?” she laughed at his antics.

“I just want you to be completely comfortable when I tell you this,” he smiled up at her. “I love you. I have for a while now. I remember the moment I realized I love you. It was back in June and you fell asleep here, remember?”

She nodded, remembering that day. They had gone for a walk by the Han river and a quick trip to a dog cafe, where she had ended up absolutely covered in fur, so she had to borrow some of Hannah’s clothes as soon as Mark brought her back to his dorm. He had, of course, lent her a hoodie on top of Hannah’s clothes, just because.

Mark hummed in thought, “I think I just spent a good fifteen minutes watching you when it just clicked in my head. I love you. I love how passionate you are about your music and hobbies, I love how you’re still one of the kindest and most humble people I know, love being by your side, I love spending time with you, I love that I get to call you mine, and I just love you.”

Not knowing how to respond to that, Yoonmi just lunged forward to hug him, draping her arms on his shoulders and burying her face in his neck.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” her voice was muffled by his sweater.

His chuckle sent vibrations through her body as he wrapped his arms around her waist, sitting back on his rug and pulling her onto his lap, “We take things at your pace, Love. I’m ready whenever you’re ready.”

The new nickname made warmth spread from her chest the moment she heard him say it. She leaned back back, looking at him with a shy smile.

“Did you just call me ‘Love’?”

He nodded, pressing their foreheads together, “Seems appropriate, don’t you think?”

“You’re right, Love.” The nickname felt foreign yet natural at the same time, coming from her mouth.

Just then, she felt the urge to kiss him. With the adrenaline of their confessions and today’s theme of not listening to doubts, she made a decision.

Mark’s breath hitched as she leaned forward, letting their noses touch, but he leaned backwards so he was looking her in the eyes.

“Yoonmi,” he began, glancing downwards before meeting her eyes again, “can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

That was the confirmation Mark needed. Not just a yes of agreement, but a yes of want as well.

Yoonmi closed her eyes as she felt Mark’s hand come up to the side of her face. She let him guide her towards himself until she felt him slot their lips together into a chaste kiss.

He pulled away, chuckling as she hid her face in his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I don’t actually know how to kiss.”

Mark just gently lifted her face to his. “Don’t worry. I can take the lead on this one.”

With that, he pulled her in for another kiss, finding a rhythm for them that she could keep up with.

From then on, Yoonmi only had two thoughts: Mark actually loves me and God, I think I might get addicted to kissing my boyfriend.

taglist: @sunflower-0180 @seaoffangirling @yourwonderbelle @1-800-enhypennabi @kamiiyou @strwberrydinosaur @uraveragefangirlsposts @caratinylyfe @1-800-minji @one16core @kimhyejin3108 @chansols @akshverse @toriluvsfics @billboard-singer @stopeatread @allthings-fandoms @jammingjaem

drop an ask or a dm if you wanna be added or taken out of the taglist 🥰 requests are also open!

#yoonmi.markmi #yoonmi.lyanswer #miya #yoonmi #kim yoonmi #bts 8th member #bts female member #bts female addition

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anonymoushouseplantfan · 1 year

Note

"You can’t be a casual Cali/Montecito royal." Hi, Plant, could you explain a bit more what you mean by this. Because my view is if they had been gracious towards the RF on Oprah, (i.e. we're beloved family members, but taking some time out of the spotlight. Then then come back and slowly work on projects in the US.) They could then come back for Trooping etc. Because the Princess Madeline managed to live in the US and keep her Royal image intact. (As far as I'm aware.)

I think that was the expectation in 2020. They would keep their UK charities and Frogmore and remain “beloved family members” attending family events but essentially living their own lives. Their LA lives would presumably retain a royalesque quality because they would go from their last appearances in the UK (which were pretty glam, thanks to Sarah Latham) to the Invictus Games then Trooping, polo season, and Balmoral. They were also going to do their own royalesque events, including a big fundraising tour for Sentebale and a charity concert for Invictus. That was the 2020 plan, I believe.

That’s similar to what Madeline did, although she was more low-key about it. It’s basically a royal life in the US. If the Harkles has stuck to well-known royal behaviors like the Christmas cards and birthday pictures, they could have successfully created an American Royal family. I think that’s what everyone expected them to do.

But Covid messed that up. They kept it going for a while bc everyone was doing Zoom charity calls and that kept the illusion of equivalency going, but the illusion finally shattered with the Oprah interview and then Philip’s funeral. It didn’t help that they were busy embracing James Corden and Ellen Degeneres and behaving like Hollywood clowns. Plus the British charities were sidelined and royalesque behaviors like Christmas cards and birthday pics were not consistently deployed. Their royal brand was steadily eroding.

At that point, they should have focused on their Hollywood projects and building their California brands, but they didn’t. They focused on lawsuits and family drama. They also did a bunch of paid awards, which weren’t really meaningful. The few projects they showcased felt very unprofessional. They didn’t have a real office, just those guesthouse desks. They were renting random locations and doing “coastal grandmother” lawn interviews with Gloria Steinem. Meghan was having fake tea parties with celebrities and Harry was juggling and the whole thing felt very bland and amateurish. They had a random NY tour for no reason (to read her book or something?) and jumped on activist bandwagons haphazardly (BLM, family leave, Iran, Ukraine, Uvalde, whatever…). It was weird.

That’s what I mean by “Casual California Royal.” Things like sending an olive cake to WCF and planting forget-me-nots at a random school. It all felt very whimsical and unprofessional. Worst of all, it did not feel purposeful or passionate.

They the documentary and the book came out and they royal brand just imploded. There’s nothing left now. All they can do is try to build up their celebrity image.

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arty-shadow-morningstar · 2 years

Text

Damian the Dog

Inspired by Grumpy Cat, written by @adrestar

------

So what if Marinette moved to Gotham Academy, probably because of Lila bullshit or Guardian Duties.

She is mostly alone so she get a dog who she named Damian.

I actually look up on what type of dog she would have because I don't have a lot of knowledge on dogs. I wanted a small cute black dog. I am going with a Pomeranian or a Scottish Terrier.

It's all fine and going dandy. When one day, Damian overhears the new girl talking about him.

Marinette of course has zero interest in celebrities so she has no clue she is in the same class as Damian Wayne. Her classmates asked if she had any pets so she starts talking about her cute little Dami and showing off pictures of him.

"Look at my Dami. Isn't he adorable?" Marinette cooed, "I just love running my hands through those thick black luscious hair."

Damian gets the idea that Marinette is a stalker or a fangirl who is deluded herself into thinking she is dating him but brushes her off as mostly harmless. He can correct her at any time she steps out of the line.

Let the misunderstandings commence!

Fast forward the next few days, where Marinette keeps talking about her dog and no one has clued her in on the fact that there is a human with the same name as her dog going to classes with her.

Human Damian thinks she has very active imagination, going as far as to fake bite marks on her arms after a supposed passionate embrace.

(Damian the Dog is still being trained. Idk abt raising dogs so I hope I am right.)

The weekend arrive and Damian is at the dog park with Titus. Then he heard the insufferable voice calling out for him,

"Damian. Where are you? Come out. Damian. Dami."

He hid himself for a while, hoping she will give up sooner or later. But no, she keeps coming closer to the spot where he was hiding and calling out his name. Then, Titus blew his cover by coming back with the ball he was sent to fetch.

Thinking he had no choice but to reveal himself, he burst out of the bushes, scaring Marinette.

Meanwhile, Marinette was at the dog park to let Damian out of the apartment and get some exercise. She was kept an eye on him as he ran around but after a phone call from Jagged Stone for a new jacket, she had lost sight of her dog.

Then, while she looked for Damian the dog, someone jumped out of the bushes, giving her a scarce.

She realised that he was a boy from her classes and before she could ask if he had seen her dog, he began yelling at her.

"Listen up, harlot. Get out of your delusional fantasies of dating me and leave me alone." He yelled at a very confused Marinette. Human Damian continued to threaten her with lawsuits on the grounds of stalking, defamation and false claims.

Marinette gets fucking pissed at what the rude guy was yelling at her for no reasons but before she could retort, he stomped away with his dog trailing behind him.

"Come on, Titus. We don't have spend more time with this waste of space."

Marinette is so furious that if she was in Paris, she would have been akumatised for sure. She decided to calm down and go look for Damian, not the human. Arriving at home, she found a lawyer waiting for her and they handed her a thick files of all the charges she was being sued for. It was official she had met someone worse than the Chloe Bourgeosis.

So Marinette decides to stress bake about the problem. Ultimately, she made too much and decided to give away some to her next door neighbour, Jason.

Marinette had been living in Gotham for about a month and Jason knows about her habit to stress bake. They first met when Jason accidentally snuck up on her and she judo-flipped him who was 3 times bigger than her. Jason is impressed and Marinette is mortified. They became friends. Jason cooks her meals sometimes and she bake him desserts. It was a fair trade.

Anyway, Jason asks about her problem and Marinette starts a rant about this rich entitled dick she met who was from her class and she had coincidentally met him at the dog park while looking for Damian. Then, he called her a bunch of insults and names, accused her of stalking him and he had sent lawsuits to her address. Which was bad because she had her business as MDC to consider and this will affect her income.

While ranting, Marinette saw Jason's law degree which he had displayed, partially for his cover as a normal civi but mostly to brag to his siblings about being the only one who graduated from college and law school and rub it in Bruce's face. (We all seen the Jason became a lawyer to get Joker a death sentence post right? So Joker is dead here.)

"Can you be my lawyer? Or can you recommend me one? I promise I can pay you."

Jason patted her head, "Pixie, I will do this for free. I don't know which prick decided to mess with you but I will make him pay. Besides, I can't stand guys like that. You are actually doing me a bit of a favor to knock someone like that down a few pegs. Legally."

Marinette insisted to pay him but Jason compromised to get a cake for an entire month instead for taking the job.

When Jason looked through the papers, he noticed it was from the Wayne Family Lawyers so he decided to go to the Manor to get to the bottom of it. Jason arrived in the middle of Damian on a warpath.

He asked Tim who was the closest and furiously typing on his laptop about what is going on with Damian.

Tim answered, "Apparently there's this girl who is stalking Damian. She claimed to be dating him at school and she showed up while he was out with Titus, looking for him. Right now, I am just checking if she is just delusional and harmless or someone dangerous."

Jason connects the dots between Dog Damian and Human Damian and he tried not to burst out laughing right then and there. "That's good to hear. Anyways, I came here because I forgot something. I am going to see Alfred before I go. Have fun with the lawsuits."

Jason spent the rest of the way home, cackling and the funniest way to win the case.

On the day of the court date,

The rest of the Waynes are surprised to see Jason there in a suit. Dick was understandable, Tim was just there to make sure it goes smoothly, Bruce is also reasonable, Damian is the 'victim'.

"Todd, why are you here?"

"You'll see."

Then, they started telling people to enter before they could get more answers. They soon found out that Jason was the lawyer for the other side.

"Todd, you traitor. How dare you work for the opposition!"

Marinette had arrived with a pet carrier with a dog which Damian claimed was to appeal to his animal lover side.

blah blah blah. Legal procession. I don't know how it goes.

Anyways, it is time for Marinette's defense.

"Your honor, I would like to present evidence which proved that my cilent is innocent in all the charges the plaintiff has accused her of."

"Proceed."

Jason brought out the pet carrier and took out Dog Damian.

"Your honor, this is my client's dog. She was gifted this dog before she moved here to Gotham. I have the receipts to prove this."

"What is the point of this?"

Jason dramatically held up the adorable fluffy black dog which looked like a doll in his hands, "Your honor, the dog's name is Damian." Jason claimed while staring straight at Human Damian.

Dog Damian woofed at the sound of his name. There was a shocked silence that followed.

Jason proceed to give more evidence that yes, the dog name is actually Damian like giving commands using his name and adoption certificate to get rid of any doubt.

"He claimed to have heard her talking about her dating but what were the actual words you heard her say?"

"That I am adorable and she likes running her fingers through my soft dark hair."

"Your honor, my cilent was actually bragging about how cute her dog is and how she likes petting Damian the dog's obviously black fur. And you also claimed that she stalked you to the dog park and called out your name several time. She was there by coincidence because the park is the closest to her apartment and she was calling his name because she had lost sight of Damian. Dog Damian I mean. It was Human Damian's fault for assuming she was calling out for him."

Jason continued to explained how each claim was Damian's own misunderstanding of the situation and there are statements from his classmates who confirmed that Marinette was talking about her pet dog. They didn't told her about Human Damian because they found it funny that her dog had the same name.

"In addition, my cilent had no idea who Damian Wayne was. Only knowing him as her classmate. "

Tim is right now filming and having the best time of his life as he watched Damian wished that the ground would swallow him whole. Dick is trying so hard not to laugh while Bruce's lips were twitching.

Jason decides to make a counter-law suit for the emotional damage and potential financial damage Human Damian had caused Marinette by suing her for millions when she was just a struggling student, getting by on her own income in a foreign country.

Marinette stopped him, "Jason, this is enough. I am fine with a hand-written apology."

"The amount I am asking for is just a drop of water of an ocean for them. They are that filthy rich. Besides, you can get that motorcycle side-car for Damian you had been eyeing a while ago. You can also use the money to buy dog stuff that you couldn't before because of your budget."

Marinette hesitated and agreed. The case ended with it in Marinette's favor.

Tim approached them as they exited with Marinette hugging Damian (the dog) and Jason grinning in glee over his victory and simultaneously humiliated Damian (the human) in the process. Tim high-fived Jason.

Tim offered a job to Marinette because he had done a background check on her due to the potential threat she posed and found out about MDC. He does it because he liked her talent and it would look great to have Wayne Enterprise on her resume. Also the best dirt on Damian.

Marinette told him that she would think about it and he gave her a card.

Damian wrote the apology letter, very embarrassed by the entire trial. His pride wouldn't recover for a while and he took it out on Jason who knew about it the entire time and didn't tried to stop and clear up the misunderstanding.

The next day at school, Marinette went to Damian's seat and said, "Good morning, Human Damian."

"Why are you calling me like that?"

"I am sorry. I thought you would appreciate the clarification of which Damian I am referring to. I wouldn't want to end up in court again after being branded as a delusional fangirl of yours because I was just talking about my adorable Dami. I meant to say My adorable dog, Dami. Human Damian."

For the next few months, everyone keeps referring to Damian as Human Damian.

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #platonic! jasonette #could be read as pre-daminette #enemies to lovers #I really should watch legal drama or read up on court proceedings #Alfred in 'has the same name as a pet' club: *sips tea* welcome to the club Master Human Damian.#this can apply to the suits #Human Robin do you copy #Meanwhile Marinette be going around Gotham with Damian in the side car to get him a cute new outfit #Damian the Dog i mean #I had fun writing this

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yowyowyaoi · 9 months

Text

Hidan’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Deidara:

Fuck you

Where’s the money you owe me

I KNOW it was you asshole

At least mine isn’t 91!

Pizza or Chinese?

No bc if you killed him Leader would just blame ME.

Help me prank Itachi and I’ll give you half my next check

Scared of a little gengetsu? Pussy

Go smell Tobi’s hair then ask me who took your damn cheap-ass shampoo

Why would you eat it it HAD MY NAME ON THE LABEL bastard!

Ok but can ya’ll go to HIS room once in a while?? I don’t need to be kept up all night!!

From Kisame

Do that to Itachi again and I’ll eviscerate you and floss with your intestines.

That Jashin voodoo crap doesn’t scare me kid

Why the hell would you eat that?! You don’t even LIKE tuna!!

You better hope you can outrun Deidara then

I think you meant that for Kakuzu. GOD I hope you meant that for Kakuzu.

From Zetsu

You left that guy outside can I eat him?

Are you done with that body yet?

Believe it or not fear actually seasons the meat

Weird question but can I lick your scythe before you clean it 👀

From Konan

Lol pretty sure his are bigger than mine kid

He’s not that old he just looks like that

Leftover ribs in fridge for you

Pls stop harassing him. He blows up my phone for hours complaining about you 😒

Get back down here and clean all this blood you trailed in! I JUST cleaned the floor!! 😤

Dinner. Last warning.

Me and Deidara going to get manicures, you in?

You think I can’t knock you out just because you’re taller? Challenge accepted.

From Sasori

I’m not a pervert he’s 19 he’s an ADULT.

Best friend? Since when??

That medicine won’t take effect if you don’t LAY DOWN and GO TO SLEEP, brat.

For as fascinated as you seem to be with my anatomy you’d think YOU were the one sleeping with me, not Dei 🧐

If Kakuzu already said no then NO.

Next time I’m stitching that mouth shut so we can all get some peace and quiet.

Yes but I can make mine any size I want at any time. You’re stuck with what you’ve got.

From Nagato

Because I said so.

Yes, really.

Be thankful that’s the ONLY punishment you received.

What she and I do is none of your concern, brat.

I’m sorry but you know Kakuzu has the final say in all financial matters.

You either apologize or I’m going to let Zetsu eat you.

Because you two cause too much trouble when we let you take missions together.

From Itachi

I’m not falling for that one again.

Never. Never in a thousand lifetimes.

Because it’s unsanitary!!

I know you took it I saw you wearing it yesterday.

Why were you even listening anyway? Pervert.

Only if Tobi comes too, I don’t trust the two of you alone.

Literally a few greens won’t kill you.

Yes you did know that!! I told everyone on the VERY FIRST DAY how allergic I am to that! 😡

Either finish your ritual or take that guy somewhere else I can’t sleep with all the screaming.

From Tobi

Of course not! We’re just friends!

Wait do you think I might have a shot with him?! 👀

Idk I left after I saw Zetsu chewing on the guy’s foot

Is there a way to take back a picture after you send it before the other person looks at it?

Want some cake? Want to eat myself but Konan says to share or I’m gonna die 😅

From Kakuzu

How much is it?

Did you use the coupons I gave you?

That shit is coming out of your paycheck brat

Sorry. Next time I won’t make them so tight.

Because I don’t have the patience and you’re not responsible enough.

I stg if you bring one more lawsuit against this organization 😡

My room. Now.

Everybody gets the exact same. If you waste yours that’s your own fault.

Make me ask again and I’ll come get you and throw you over my shoulder

This is getting ridiculous how many times am I gonna have to sew it back on?!

Come see me tonight I’ll take care of it.

It was you and Deidara. I KNOW it was you and Deidara.

Maybe if you’re a good boy.

#the akatsuki #hidan #text message #kakuhida #kakuzu x hidan #implied sasodei #implied kisaita #implied tobidei #deidara #sasori #tobi #kakuzu #zetsu #konan #nagato #kisame hoshigaki #itachi uchiha #Akatsuki Daily Texts Series

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lexosaurus · 5 months

Text

Twelve Hours: Chapter 3

Part 3 of 5 of my fic for Ecto Implosion, the DP reverse mini-bang (artists go first, writers go second)

read on: [ao3]

[see all chapters]

Characters: Danny Fenton, Harriet Chin, GIW (mentioned a lot) Tags: Identity Reveal, Flashbacks, Runaway Danny Fenton, Angst WC: 4028 Summary: When the GIW revealed Danny to the world, the only thing he could do was run. Run and run and run until he escaped to Chicago, trying desperately to disappear. Too bad it didn’t work.

****

“I want to pivot now to the actual imprisonment, which you’ve been describing to the public as a captivity,” Harriet said.

Danny didn’t let his eyes flicker to the cameras. He knew that whatever he said next would have very few edits done to it in post-production. And he also heard the implied question, asking him to talk about it freely.

This was his one chance to, after all. Never before had he been given the space to just talk so publicly about what happened to him.

What they did.

“I do call it captivity. Imprisonment would imply that I did something bad. But I wasn’t arrested for anything that I did. I was only arrested for being who I am.”

“A halfa, or Phantom?” she pressed.

Danny shook his head. “It doesn’t really matter. It was illegal for me to be a halfa, but Phantom was the most commonly found ghost in Amity Park, and so I was their primary target. The more that I evaded the Ghost Investigation Ward and the police, the more of an enemy to the federal government I became.”

“And you don’t believe their targeting had anything to do with the destruction that ghosts often brought?”

Danny paused, taking a moment to remember that Harriet wasn’t against him. She was here to give him a chance.

“My intentions were always to protect my community. Not all ghosts are after destruction, and most come to Earth harmlessly. But when the loudest tried to act up, I was there to stop them. And I was a kid—I mean, I wasn’t perfect, but I tried anyway. I thought if I kept showing the world that I was good, they would stop targeting me. But the Anti-Ecto laws didn’t let that happen. In the end, I got tortured anyway.”

“Tortured,” Harriet said, a full sentence. “That’s a heavy accusation.”

Here it was again. Another chance.

“It’s the truth.” Danny didn’t stop his hand when it went to rub his sternum this time. “They beat me, used electricity, drugged me, and—” His voice failed, a sudden swell of emotions threatening to overtake him.

Harriet didn’t look away. “And what?”

“And…”

His chest burned, and when he looked up, he saw the fluorescent lights staring down at him. His head was mounted in place by some metal piece, but that was good because it meant he couldn’t see what had become of his arm beside him. Also shackled, the cold table doing little to stifle the burning, burning, burning—

He blinked, and he was back in the warm interview room with the old carpet and white chairs. His throat was pinned shut, but he forced his jaw open anyway and choked out, “They cut into me while I was awake.”

“In court, they described what they did as an autopsy, stating that under federal law, you were declared legally dead and therefore it couldn’t be torture.”

Danny remembered when the “physicians” in the “operating room” in the GIW facility declared him dead. After they’d forced him into his Phantom form to stop his heart and lungs, of course.

“That’s what the Ghost Investigation Ward’s lawyers argued,” Danny said. “But death has to be irreversible. When I transform into a human, I can reactivate my circulatory system, so their argument was thrown out.”

It had been one of the few parts of his lawsuit he’d won, but arguably, it was the only one that mattered. The right to be declared alive.

Because then, he could use that to argue that he didn’t fit the Anti-Ecto laws. He was alive, and therefore a citizen deserving of his constitutional rights.

Everything after that, they didn’t care about. No, not the destruction to his body, nor his mind. It wasn’t legally torture because he had been a ghost when the GIW toyed with him. It was for science, for defense. They hadn’t intended to harm him. No, they were just gathering research.

“Were you warned about what could happen in their facility before your arrest?” Harriet asked.

“Of course. They used to taunt me with it, back before they knew I was Phantom. They would show up after fights and try to kidnap me while telling me all about the painful experiments and methods of dismemberment they were going to put me through. That’s why the actual reveal was so terrifying. I knew, I knew what would happen if I was caught. And I knew there was a good chance that if I was captured, I would never see the sun again.”

“And yet, you stayed here on Earth instead of running to the Ghost Zone.”

Danny tapped his finger on his khakis. “Earth was all I ever knew.”

****

07:00:00

Danny stumbled into the subway. It was dim, even more so than he remembered from last summer with the clouds blocking the sunlight from the street. He also recalled the rank smell of piss trapped underground, but today it didn’t seem as bad. Likely the crisp November air helping out.

He would have to grow used to it, though. Just like he’d have to grow used to using his powers to feed himself, as he’d just practiced moments before.

The premade sandwich and plastic water bottle felt heavy in his hoodie pocket. But it was a weight he didn’t feel too remorseful over, either. It was necessary to keep him alive, and he was sure whichever chain grocery store he’d nicked it from would hardly miss one sandwich going missing.

With the cops seemingly somewhere else right now, someone had opened the emergency door beside the turnstiles to avoid paying the ticket fee. Although, he watched as another man planted his hands on either side of the turnstile and jumped over it. Danny would have to start doing that unless he wanted to risk suspicion with his intangibility powers.

But with the other door open and a few people slipping through it, Danny just joined that crowd, grabbing the door from the person before him, and letting it fall to the person behind him.

Yes, he was just like any other normal human homeless kid. Nothing else going on.

He wasn’t sure why his heart still skipped a beat, though. Maybe because he’d been raised by parents who would have admonished him if they ever found out he refused to pay his fare to ride the Chicago subway. They were always sticklers for the rules in that sort of sense.

But he would get used to it, he was sure. Maybe by the end of the month, he wouldn’t so much as bat an eye over jumping over the turnstile like that other man did.

He wasn’t sure where to go. He supposed he should just get on a train and go. Maybe he could explore the city a little. Find somewhere to sleep tonight.

The thought of tonight weighed heavily in his mind. There was absolutely no way he could get into a shelter with the news so polluted with his face like it was. Surely, anyone managing shelters would have already been alerted of his runaway status.

And thus, the only option was the great outdoors. Not that he’d ever slept outside in a city before.

He would just have to get used to this as well.

Next to him, a green sticker caught the corner of his eye, and his stomach sank as he turned to face the grisly green bald eagle logo with its wings stretched out behind it, appearing as if it were landing on the yellow United States of America text. Above the bird were the bold words reading GHOST INVESTIGATION WARD.

Even in the goddamn subway, he couldn’t escape them. He turned away, but that familiar depressive fog thickened. He tried to push beyond it. If he began to think, he might never stop, and that was perhaps more dangerous than anything else.

Someone shouldered past him, and Danny was once again reminded that he was standing in the middle of one of the major subway stations in Chicago with a choice to make. Where to go?

He thought about looking at a map, but what difference did that really make? What did it matter if he went north or south? Eventually, he was bound to see it all anyway. There was nothing else for him to do.

He heard the faint strumming of a guitar down one set of stairs. The tune sounded weirdly familiar, though he couldn’t place it. His head was too out of it for him to care.

No, no. It was fine. Don’t think.

As he descended the steps toward the music, he could make out a voice accompanying the guitar. Feminine, and smooth. He’d heard this voice before, he was sure of it, though it didn’t sound right. Was it too…delicate? Soft?

He got to the bottom of the stairs and turned around, walking down the platform and closer to the voice. As he wove around the pillars, he began to make out distinct words, and that’s when it all clicked for him.

But of course, he still couldn’t believe it until he turned around the final pillar to see Ember herself strumming on her guitar in the middle of the subway. Her bushy teal hair was tied into a ponytail behind her, but instead of resembling fire, it followed the laws of gravity like any other human ponytail would. Her aura was also noticeably suppressed, making her black shirt and leather pants look darker without the constant light surrounding them. She didn’t have a tip jar out, but Danny wasn’t surprised. A real ghost like her would have little need for human currency.

Instead, a small purple and blue sign with her social media handle written in the center stood before her.

They locked eyes, and she grinned at him, though she didn’t stop singing. It wasn’t one of her songs; it was a cover of a rock band they both listened to.

Danny had never heard her sing a cover song before, but it was…nice. Soothing. He could still hear the original song in his mind with its heavy drums and near-constant crash symbols. But in the subway with nothing but a clean guitar and some vocals, it sounded almost like a lullaby.

People rushed by in both directions, no doubt hurrying home to see their loved ones for dinner. Next to him, a mother and her son stopped, the young child staring up at Ember with sparkling eyes. He bounced up and down to her rhythm, and then he pivoted to face his mother, clasping her free hand.

She smiled and raised her arm so he could twirl under it properly like a ballroom dance. He squealed, hopped in excitement, and then did it again only slightly ahead of Ember’s beat.

As Danny watched them, Ember’s words about heartbreak and sadness seemed to melt away. Because here in the middle of a subway station was a child and his mother dancing and laughing as if they were the only two people in the universe.

Then, as quickly as Danny began to feel their joy, it evaporated from his skin. Because as the mother pressed her lips together to regard her child with eyes like the morning sun peaking over the hilltop, Danny realized he recognized that tenderness. And rather than the familiarity tapping his shoulder in polite introduction, it decided to stab his chest, exit his skin, and allow his blood to dispel from his body until the only thing left to feel was the gaping cavity where his heart should have been.

That look of care and love was the same look his mother used to give him as she smoothed his tangled hair against his head. It was the same look she gave when he first disassembled and reassembled his first gun, when he brought back his first A in school, when he and Jazz cooked dinner together for the first time.

It was a look he would never see again.

Whatever he was feeling, he didn’t let it show. Instead, he grabbed it by its spindly legs, shoved it back in its cage, and let the ice plug up the space where the hole in his chest was left to bleed.

He couldn’t afford to break down, to draw attention to himself. Not right now, not after he only just got here.

Ember finished the song and started another. And another. Other than her small grin and nod his way, she didn’t acknowledge Danny again. Not until the set was over anyway, by which point Danny had made himself comfortable on the ground next to her with his elbows resting on his raised knees, and his unwrapped sandwich mostly eaten in hand. The floor was dirty and this all probably made him look every bit the homeless kid that he was now, but for the first time all day, he didn’t care. He was here to listen to his friend and eat his lunch…dinner. Whatever thoughts the public had, they could keep to themselves.

“Thanks for listening, everybody! Be sure to check me out on social media! You can find me on everything under Ember McLain!”

He waited patiently, not saying a word as she put her guitar back in its bag and strapped it to her back. Her microphone, amp, and the purple and blue blanket she had been standing on seemingly vanished into thin air one by one.

Danny didn’t have powers like that, the power to summon and dispel objects at will. Though, Ember had told him that her powers only worked for music-related items. If she needed something for a performance, the objects would appear. The more energy she had, the larger the object could be. At her height, she could turn an empty field into a full show setup with a stage, seating, and all.

She’d once promised Danny that she would never try to hypnotize others with her music again. How it wasn’t true fame, true admiration. And while Danny wanted to believe her, ghosts were ageless, and memories only grew fickle with time.

When all her things were packed away and likely sent back to her lair, she rounded on him.

Danny bounced a leg as he felt the weight of her eyes surveying him. He knew how awful he must have looked, even with some food finally in him. It didn’t help that—and he was sure she must have noticed—he was sitting under another angry GIW sticker.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you outside of your haunt,” Ember said.

Danny winced, glancing around. Thankfully, no one seemed to be eavesdropping. Still, he hissed, “Not so loud.”

“Then get off the ground, dipstick.”

Fair enough.

“I had to,” he explained, pushing himself up. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but—”

“Oh, I’ve heard. Everyone’s heard, I’m pretty sure.” She glanced between him and the sticker behind him. “I never got why you cared so much if the other humans found out.”

Danny felt himself gawk. He couldn’t help it. He knew ghosts could be tunnel-visioned at best, but this level of ignorance nearly had him walking straight back up the stairs and exiting the subway altogether.

She crossed her arms, glaring. “No, come on. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What the fuck else could that possibly mean?”

“I mean like I never got why it would matter to the humans if they found out you were Phantom. ‘Cause it was so obvious to us all on the other side. Human or ghost, you were still the same annoying brat with the same annoying personality. Not to mention, you look almost the same, minus the hair and aura.”

Danny snapped his jaw shut, and his eyebrows lowered back down. Ember was trying to make him feel better, he realized, in her own terribly worded way.

But it made sense. To the other ghosts, he was just a halfa. No matter which body he took, he still had both a heart and a core. So what did it matter to them what he looked like?

“It matters to the humans, though,” he finished.

“Well, duh. That’s kind of obvious now.” She adjusted the guitar strap on her shoulder. “Turns out, they hate ecto-anything so much that they’ll kill one of their own kind for it.”

“I’m not really one of them, though.” He refused to let his voice crack in front of her no matter how badly his throat threatened to betray him.

“Yeah, you’re not,” she agreed bluntly.

It stung.

“So why stay here with them?”

“Because…” he began, then drifted off. She had a point. When he ran, he could have snuck into his basement (provided his parents hadn’t set up the ghost shields first) and fled to the Ghost Zone. Sure, he would be homeless there too, but at least he wouldn’t be looking over his shoulder every other minute like he was now.

But he didn’t run to his house when he was outed. He ran the other way, away from Amity Park.

“My parents would have known I’d come home,” he said. And…it was true. At least, partially. “They would have been waiting for me. And I—I couldn’t…”

He couldn’t see them. Or, more like, he wouldn’t have been able to handle seeing them. Their pain, anger, despair. It would have been too much.

“Besides, the Guys in White were probably swarming my house. They would have caught me.”

“They’re still swarming your house, actually. It’s why I’m here.” Ember shrugged. “Figured I’d lie low out of Amity for a while. Chicago’s close enough to the barrier that there’s still a good amount of natural portals here too. Which, speaking of, you should hitch a ride with me back if you weren’t able to get there the first time.”

He averted his eyes from her pointed stare and raised brow. It would have been smart, wouldn’t it? To wait for a natural portal and then run into the Zone?

“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t just—just—”

“And why not?” Her smooth human hair finally simmered, and Danny saw the fire behind her eyes as she pushed him into the metaphorical corner further. “The fuck are you doing, babypop? Where are you going?”

“I don’t know, alright!” he snapped. Someone glanced over at him, and he tugged his hood further up his head and lowered his voice. “But I can’t just leave Earth for good!”

“Why not? What the hell will these humans even do for you if you stay? Get you locked up? Turn you into their newest specimen? Kill you?”

His hands felt jittery, and he balled them into fists, wrapping his sleeves between his fingers. “I’m not a ghost, Ember.”

“You’re sure as shit not human either!”

“But my whole life’s here. I can’t just leave. What if they try to use someone I care about to lure me out of hiding?”

“So you’d just fall for it? You’d fucking walk straight into some dumbass obvious trap to save one of your stupid friends? Are you serious, babypop?”

He would without hesitation, but he couldn’t admit that. Not that he needed to, really. It was obvious because of something that started with an ‘ob’ and ended with ‘session.’

Ember’s aura was beginning to peek through, and Danny took a step back in response. A clear sign of submission, one he normally would never give to another ghost. But he couldn’t afford a fight in the Chicago subway today.

And Ember seemed to understand. Her eyes widened for a brief moment before her aura was back under lock and key. “Sorry,” she said. “I just can’t believe you would stay here just in case they got one of the humans you’re so attached to.”

“It’s not just that! It’s…you know, like I said. My whole life is here, it’s on Earth. I can’t just abandon it because of the GIW.”

Danny followed Ember’s gaze back to the Ghost Investigation Ward sticker plastered on the dirty tile wall. The neon eagle seemed to glow brighter than before, accenting every feather against the dark background.

“Do you know what they do to ghosts in there?” she asked, her voice uncharacteristically somber.

“Yes.”

“I don’t think you get it.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m the one they’re after, in case you haven’t noticed. They don’t go five minutes without bragging about all the things they want to do to me. I probably know better than anyone else what they’d do if they caught me.”

“Well, then you’re dumber than I thought,” Ember said. “They got one of Skulker’s suits, you know. Skulker ejected himself, but his powers let him access the suit remotely for a little bit, so he could still see what was happening. Especially with all the stuff he’s been installing around his suit for repairs.” She gave him an accusatory glance, and Danny supposed she was referring to all the times that Danny messed his suit up, but he didn’t react.

If Skulker didn’t want to have to do so many intricate wiring repairs, he shouldn’t have attacked Danny so much.

“Skulker saw the inside of their facility. Just for a little bit, till he got back to his lair and got a new suit. That’s when the connection dies for him—when he claims a new body. But for a few hours, he could see inside the facility. All the experiments. The machines.” Her eyes lowered to her combat boots, and she hugged her sides. “He talks about them sometimes. About…”

Danny understood instantly. “Who did he see?”

Ember’s lips trembled, and Danny thought she would freeze up, unable to appear weak in front of the enemy. But Danny wasn’t the enemy tonight. So she sighed, closed her eyes, and said, “Youngblood.”

Danny’s blood froze in his veins.

He waited for her to say she was joking. That she was just trying to scare him. But when the first tear fell from her eyes, Danny knew she wasn’t fooling around.

“I don’t know what happened to him. Skulker’s connection cut too soon. But…I don’t think he could have survived that. He never had the strongest core, you know.”

“How the fuck could they even see him?” Danny asked, fighting to keep his ice powers locked behind the thin wall of his skin. “No, wait. Of course, they were counting on Youngblood thinking they couldn’t see him. It’s their sunglasses, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fuck. I—fuck.” That was all Danny could say, after all. “I’m sorry, Ember.”

“I never liked that little twerp anyway,” Ember remarked, though Danny could tell she was just putting on a brave face. “It’s sick what they do in there. It’s not that they think we can’t feel things, it’s that they don’t care, babypop. Youngblood was yelling and crying—that’s what Skulker said—and they didn’t care. They probably got off on it, knowing those sick freaks.”

Danny knew at least one operative who definitely did. “I know.”

“You shouldn’t stay here,” she tried again. “I know you don’t have to listen to me, but you should. You’re an idiot as it is. Don’t be a bigger idiot by staying.”

And suddenly, he wanted to listen to her. He wanted to throw his life away and follow her through the next natural portal from Chicago into the Ghost Zone. Frostbite surely would love to have him stay on his island. And if Frostbite got tired of him, he could go to Dora’s castle, or hell, even force Clockwork to let him crash. The old man could probably endure the company for a little while.

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave everyone, he couldn’t handle not knowing if his loved ones were safe or not, he just couldn’t.

“I’ll think about it,” he said instead.

Ember gave him a long, weary look that let him know she saw right through him.

“Think about it. Really think,” she said. “If you get caught, you’re finished. You get it?”

“I know. I just need time.”

She frowned and turned for the stairs. “You’re running out of that, babypop.”

****

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#danny phantom #phicc #my writing #twelve hours #chapter three #dp fanfic #angst #guys in white #ectoimplosion2023

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softbobamilktae · 9 months

Text

Stupid, Crazy in Love with You

Pairing: Idol!Taehyung x Model!OC

Genre: angst, fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, slight reference to purity culture? Maybe?

Summary: When Zelda realizes just how much fame marrying Tae will come with, she decides they need to take a break.

A/N: this takes place after the events of A Modeling Break

Zelda chewed on her nails as she waited for the call to connect. She’d waited a few days to make this call, unsure how to deal with the situation at hand. She and Tae talked about everything, but she wasn’t sure how to go about talking this through.

It had all started that weekend when Indigo had pulled up some photos on Instagram of the two of them. Zelda had smiled upon first seeing the photos, but then she’d remembered that Tae had agreed to not let them leave that room. So…why were they on the internet?

Of course, they weren’t on his Instagram, but rather on the Instagram profile of the company that had taken the photos, but she couldn’t help but wonder how they’d gotten there. She knew how seriously Hybe took the boys’ privacy, so surely, without Tae’s permission, those photos being posted would be means for a lawsuit…right? So why would they risk that?

The call connected a moment later, and Tae’s smiling face greeted her.

“Hi, darling!”

She smiled, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hi, Tae.”

“What’s up?” he asked. “You sounded like you had something important to talk about.”

She cringed. “Uh, yeah. I do.”

He shifted the camera, setting his phone down on his desk, and she could now see quite a bit more of him than she had before.

“All right, what is it? Did something happen with part of our wedding plans?”

His mention of the wedding just made her heart sink into her toes. Depending on how this conversation went, that wedding might be canceled.

“No, it’s not that. It has something to do with…some pictures that were posted?”

He furrowed his brow, appearing quizzical for a few moments. “Uh…you’re going to have to be more specific than that, Zel.”

“Have you checked Instagram lately?”

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”

She sighed. “Remember those photos we took in Paris? The ones that you promised would only be for us?”

The smile on his face disappeared, like he knew where she was going with this. “Yes.”

“The company posted them.”

She watched his gaze darken as his eyebrows fell. “They what?” He spit out, malice in his tone.

His reaction set something right in her chest. He hadn’t been the one who’d done it. He had kept his word. He wasn’t the enemy here. She took a deep breath, preparing to continue with what she had to say, but he continued talking.

“I told them…” he started, voice shaking. “I told them to delete those as soon as they sent them to me. I told them…” he paused. “I told them if they did anything else with the photos, there would be consequences.” He took a deep breath after that, letting out an exasperated sigh as he buried his face in his hands. “I’m really sorry, Zel. I’ll fix this-”

She cut him off. “You can’t. You can’t fix this, Tae.” She paused, resituating herself in her chair. “We…we need to talk about this.”

The fire in his eyes died a quick death as he realized they weren’t on the same side of this issue anymore.

“What do we need to talk about?” he asked softly, his expression very quickly flickering to that of worry.

“I…” she hesitated, avoiding looking directly at the camera. “I need a break from all of this, Tae. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“Uh…” he nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand.”

She wrung her hands and glanced back up at him. “I need a break from all of it, Tae.”

There was a long pause as they just looked at each other, and she watched realization flood over him. His frown deepened, and he looked like he was teetering the line between angry and heartbroken.

“Oh,” he responded quietly. “You’re saying you need a break from me too, aren’t you?”

She tugged her bottom lip into her mouth, nodding slowly.

He ducked his head, refusing to look at the camera for a few moments. “Are you breaking up with me?” His voice was soft, broken, and when he glanced back up, he had tears in his eyes.

“Not…breaking up with you,” she replied softly. “Just taking a break.”

He frowned. “Are we canceling the wedding?”

“No!” She exclaimed, desperate for a way to explain herself. “No, not yet. I just need space, Tae. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Ok,” he blew out, his lower lip wobbling as he stared at the ceiling. “Yeah. I get it.” He glanced back down at her and smiled tremulously. “I’ll talk to you later.” He paused. “Love you.”

He didn’t give her a chance to respond before he cut the call, and she was left feeling even worse than before. Did she really need a break from him? It wasn’t him she was running from, it was the rest of the world. It was all the people she saw on the internet who left distasteful comments. It was the industry that thought of her as nothing more than an object. But still…she couldn’t bring herself to take back her words.

◇◆◇◆◇

Tae found himself seated next to a friend at a club a few nights later, lit cigarette in his hand. Without Zelda, he felt lost, even with that friend at his side. He’d grown ever used to her presence, even when they were on opposite sides of the world. He was used to waking up to a flood of little texts she’d sent while he was asleep, and then hoping she was still awake to see his replies. He texted her every chance he got, especially when he lie awake at night unable to sleep. And now…he simply couldn’t. And she wasn’t texting him either. She’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want to talk to him right now, and he was going to respect that, even with how much it hurt.

“Here.”

Tae was brought out of his thoughts by the clink of a glass against the counter. His friend pushed a glass of something alcoholic towards him. He didn’t know what it was, but he was sure he’d regret drinking it. He shook his head.

“No thanks.”

“Come on, dude. I’ve never seen you this depressed before. Just drink it. It’ll take the edge off.”

Tae shook his head again and took a huff of his cigarette before blowing the smoke out his mouth. “She wouldn’t want me to.”

The irony in that was that she wouldn’t want him smoking either, but she didn’t know he smoked, so she’d never had the chance to say anything directly to his face.

“She broke up with you. Get over her. If she really cared about you, she would’ve stuck it out.”

That was his last straw. He shoved himself off the barstool, nearly tripping over his own feet as he went.

“Don’t you dare pretend to know what’s going on between us,” he snapped. “We’re on a break; we’re not broken up. Until the day she tells me she can’t make it work, we’re still in a relationship.”

At that, he tripped out of the bar, appearing drunk but being far too sober. Somewhere along the way, he lost his cigarette, so he sat down to light a new one, fighting with his lighter for a few moments as it refused to light. After a few moments of struggle, he gave up and stuffed the lighter back into his pocket. He buried his face in his hands. He couldn’t even bear to tell any of the guys what was going on, even though he knew there was a chance some of them already knew. Zelda was close with many of the girls, and if she told any of them, they were bound to mention it to someone. He let out a choked sob. He hated this. He hated everything about this. He’d spent two years with Zelda as his everything, and despite her assurances that their wedding was still on, he knew he couldn’t hold her to that, not if she truly didn’t want this life. He’d always known there was a chance that it would be too much for her. He’d just hoped…hoped that he’d be enough for her to stay. But clearly, he wasn’t, and he couldn’t even blame her. Who wanted this life? He didn’t even want it, and he’d chosen it. He couldn’t ask her to throw away her sanity if she had nothing to gain from him.

The thing that brought him out of his misery for a brief moment was the ring of his phone. It was loud, almost offensive in the quiet night on the side of the street. He dug it out of his pocket. And then his heart dropped. Zelda’s mom. He grappled for his sanity as he pressed the phone to his ear, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious how awful his night had been.

“Hello?” he asked in lieu of his usual greeting.

Her ever-cheery voice greeted him on the other end of the line.

“Hi, Tae! I hope it’s not too late for you. I just wondered if you’ve heard from Zelda lately. She hasn’t been answering any of my calls.”

“Um. Oh.” He blew out a breath. “Uh. We actually haven’t been speaking.”

“Oh.”

Her response hung in the air for a few moments, and he prayed she’d say something else. Anything.

“Well, I was not informed of this. Did something happen?”

He was very quickly losing his composure, and before he knew it, tears were spilling down his cheeks.

“Yeah. I messed up, and Zelda realized this isn’t the life she wants.” He hiccupped, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself, but the tears just kept coming. “If you hear from her…please let me know that she’s ok. She doesn’t do well with the media – I’m sure you know that – and I don’t even want to know what people have been saying to her. I just want her to be ok,” he mumbled before sniffling.

“When I get ahold of her - and I will - I will let you know how she’s doing, honey.”

“Thank you,” he choked out.

“Of course,” she replied nearly instantly. She paused. “Is the wedding off?”

“Not yet,” he admitted, voice watery. “But I’m not sure she’ll come around. She said she just needed some space…but…” he sucked in a breath. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t give up so easily. She loves you a lot.”

“I know,” he frowned, digging his lighter out of his pocket to fidget with the spark wheel. The lighter lit on the first try this time, and he glowered at it. “…but I come with a lot of things that I’m not sure she can handle.”

“Everyone does, Tae. Everyone comes with baggage and situational difficulties. That’s not any different just because yours happen to be pretty unique.”

He let the flame go out as he listened to her talk.

“I…I hope you’re right.” He smiled sadly. “Thanks, Mom.”

The moniker slipped out of his mouth almost unconsciously, and it took him a moment to realize what he’d said.

“Sorry. I guess that’s not an appropriate thing to call you right now.”

“You can always call me Mom, sweetheart. Even if you and Zelda decide this relationship isn’t what’s best for you.”

Those words only elicited more tears sliding down his face. “Thank you. Thank you for calling me. I needed to talk to someone.”

“Of course. Call me anytime you need someone to talk to, ok?”

He sniffled. “Ok.”

“I’m going to let you go. I’ll call you when I get ahold of her, ok?”

“Ok.”

◇◆◇◆◇

Zelda spent a few days down in Bloomington as she tried to put her mental state back together. One look at social media had been enough for her to turn off her phone and abandon it completely. She didn’t know what to do, so she’d impulse-bought a stack of books and driven home. Her grandparents hadn’t asked questions, and she’d sat herself on their couch to binge-read for a few days while she pretended her life didn’t exist. It felt stupid, letting her hair go unwashed and wearing her reading glasses and sweatpants, but she needed to feel like a normal person. She missed Tae, but she didn’t know how to tell him that she wanted him, no strings attached. No stupidly insane fans that hated her. No attention at all. She wanted the world to be just her and Tae. And she couldn’t have that, so instead she’d be reading books that didn’t belong in this universe and pretending she was somewhere else.

◇◆◇◆◇

Zelda ended up catching a flight to California two days later upon her mother’s request. With her phone being turned off, her mother had figured out that she was at her grandparents’ house and contacted them. She found herself seated at her mother’s kitchen counter stirring a cup of tea the morning after her flight got in.

“Tae called me, you know,” her mother informed her as she leaned against the counter, her own cup of tea in hand.

Zelda glanced up at her. “Did he?”

“Well, I suppose I called him. But he’s worried about you.”

Zelda pressed her lips together as she glanced back down at the cup of tea she was still stirring. It was already starting to go cold. “I’m sure he is.”

“What happened between you two? I never imagined the two of you would break up.”

Her response was immediate, like she had to defend their relationship.

“We’re not broken up. We’re on a break. It’s not the same.” She shrugged. “I just…needed some space.”

“I think he thinks the outcome will be the same, sweetheart. He was very broken up when I talked to him. Said something about…he made a mistake?”

She sighed and dropped her spoon into her mug. “He didn’t. I did. Or we both did. Or someone else did. It wasn’t his fault.”

“What happened?” her mother pressed.

Zelda let out another huff. “We took some photos when we were in Paris. The company he was doing a photo shoot for posted them, apparently without his permission. It wasn’t anything he did. It was just too much for me.” She picked at the cuffs of her sleeves. “I just don’t know if I can marry into fame. There’s too many people and not enough security.”

“Sweetheart, you know I didn’t want that life for you. I never did. But I think you should remember that not marrying him won’t change the fact that people know you were with him at some point. That boy loves you a lot, and I know you love him. I don’t think you should give that up now just because some people who shouldn’t be are sticking their nose into your relationship.”

“I know. You’re right.” She sighed as tears filled her eyes. “I just wish I could have him without all of this.”

“All of this is what got you two together, sweetheart.”

Zelda nodded.

“I think you need to go talk to him. About a lot of things. The first step toward a healthy marriage is communication.”

“I should go see him,” Zelda concluded.

“I think you should. If not to discuss anything else, to see him and tell him how you feel. He deserves to know.”

Zelda nodded again. “I’ll go see him.”

She shifted in her chair, picking up her mug and bringing it to her lips. She took a cautious sip of it before setting it down.

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey?”

She cleared her throat. “Um…” she paused. “Does sex…usually make you feel more emotionally connected to a person?”

“In my experience, yes. Why?”

She shrugged, hesitant to continue this conversation. “Tae and I…did some things. And I feel like…” she sighed. “What we did made me feel closer to him, but now…” her eyes welled with tears. “I don’t want to say I regret it, but…if I decide this relationship isn’t right for me…or even…even just now. I feel like we shouldn’t have done it.”

“Did he make you feel like you had to?” her mother asked, though the way she said it hinted that she knew he hadn’t.

Zelda looked up at her mom, shaking her head frantically. “No. No! It was…all me. He even asked me multiple times if I was sure. I just…” she frowned. “I feel like the fact that I’m the one who initiated it makes it worse. Like, he was completely okay with waiting, and I still decided to do that.”

Her mother hummed thoughtfully. “Well, what’s been done has been done. Your father and I did things we shouldn’t have done either, but we can’t change the past.” She tapped her nails against the counter, as if she were considering what to say next. “I think what I will say is…don’t let sex determine who you spend the rest of your life with. Making the wrong decision because you feel like you have to fix something won’t do you any good in the long term. I’m not saying marrying Tae would be the wrong decision, but don’t let the fact that you’ve done things together determine whether or not you decide to marry him.”

Zelda let out a shaky sigh and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, Mom.”

“And Zelda?”

She met her mother’s eyes again. “Yes?”

“I think you should know that the fact that he was willing to wait for you is important. And when you did do things, the fact that he was so insistent on making sure it was what you wanted is important. Not all men are like that, not even the ones you’d want to date. He’s a good guy.”

Zelda glanced down at her mug. “Yeah. He is.”

◇◆◇◆◇

Tae let out a sigh of relief when he saw Zelda’s mother’s name pop up on his phone. He’d been waiting over a day to hear from her, and he’d been starting to wonder if Zelda had simply disappeared. He answered the call immediately.

“Did you find her?” he asked.

“Yes,” her mother replied easily. “She was at her grandparents’ house in Bloomington. She’s a bit broken up emotionally, but she’s all right.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “Good. That’s good. Is she with you now?”

“Yeah. She flew in last night. It seems like she needs a bit of a break from public attention.”

“No doubt,” he laughed bitterly. “Thank you for calling me.”

◇◆◇◆◇

“Please come pick me up.”

Tae stared dumbly at his phone as Zelda’s text came through. He frowned, unsure what to say.

“Wrong number?”

“Tae.”

Her text bubble appeared and disappeared a few times over the next minute, and then another text came through.

“I’m at the airport.”

He didn’t even know what to say to that. She was here? In Seoul? She’d flown all the way here without telling him, without even knowing if he was there. She’d taken that risk just to see him.

He was out the door a moment later.

It didn’t take long for him to find her at the airport. Her blonde hair stuck out in a crowd of mostly dark-haired people, even without her signature curls on display. Her hair was piled on the crown of her head in a thick messy bun, and resting in front of it was a pair of glasses he’d never seen before. He could only conclude that she’d been using them to read, because they weren’t resting on her nose like his were.

Her face lit up when she saw him, and she broke into a run, nearly losing her suitcase in her hurry. She let go of it when she was a few steps from him, and, tugging her glasses off her head so that they wouldn’t hit the ground, she threw herself into his arms.

“You came,” she mumbled into his shoulder, voice watery.

“Of course I did. You didn’t think you could get rid of me so easily, did you?” he asked, laughing and crying all the while.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” he squeezed her tight. “No. You have nothing to apologize for.”

She cried into his shoulder, refusing to let him go even as people droned around them. It felt ironic to have such a public reunion after how they’d parted.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured into her hair. “I missed you.”

She sniffled and ran her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “It was unfair of me to leave you like that.”

“I forgive you,” he assured her. “Don’t beat yourself up.”

She cried even harder at those words.

He simply stood there and held her for a few minutes, relishing the feel of having her in his arms again.

She pulled away from him after a while, staring up at him through puffy eyes as she continued to pet his hair. She sniffled again and pulled out of his arms before clasping her hands together and tugging on her fingers.

“I…um…” she hesitated. “Listen. I know we never talked about this, but…” she dug around in her bag and unearthed a jewelry box. “I got you a ring. I…I wanted something that would promise to you I won’t leave you again before our wedding.”

In any other situation, he would’ve teased her about the way she’d worded that, asking her if she was planning to leave him after the wedding, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak at all, simply staring at her with his mouth agape.

“You didn’t have to do that, Zel,” he finally replied. He took her hands in his. “The fact that you’re here is enough of a promise to me.”

“I know. I…I felt like I needed to.” Her eyes welled with tears once again. “I never meant to hurt you, Tae. That was not my intention, and I’m…I’m really sorry.” Her last words caught on a sob, and she stared down and their hands. “It was never permanent, and I’m sorry I didn’t make that extremely clear. I love you. So much. And being away from you made me realize that I can’t give that up, even if the whole world wants me to. I didn’t want to go into our marriage terrified of everyone who doesn’t want us to have each other.”

“Zelda….”

She glanced up to meet his eyes.

“I would give it all up for you.” He frowned. “I’d change my name and move to a deserted island in the middle of nowhere if that’s what it takes for you to feel safe. There’s nothing more important to me in this world than you, darling.” He took her empty hand and rested it on his chest. “My heart’s yours, Zel. Even if you’d broken it, it still would’ve been yours.”

She choked on her tears at those words, letting out a laugh. “Stop. You can’t say something cheesy like that and expect me to take you seriously.”

He laughed along with her, but his heart pounding against her palm betrayed him. It was beating hard, as if trying to catch up with his emotions. After a moment, she sighed.

“I know you would, Tae. But I also know how hard that would be for you to actually do, so I’m telling you that I’m ok with the fame as long as I have you.” She held the ring box up. “Will you do me the honor of accepting this ring?”

He grinned, tears spilling from his eyes. “Yes.”

As soon as she’d slid the silver band onto his finger, he pulled her into a hug.

“I missed this,” he breathed into her hair.

“I missed this too. So much. I missed you. I never want to spend that much time away from you ever again.”

He chuckled, still hugging her as tight as he could. “You won’t have to pretty soon.”

She nodded. “I’m still really sorry-”

He poked her side, making her squeak.

“Hey. Shush. I already told you I forgive you. It’s forgotten. You’re here now, and we’re getting married in four months. That’s all that matters.”

She smiled against his shoulder. “I love you.”

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

A/N: so basically...suffer :) (they needed an angst fic, ok?) also this is officially the longest Dad!BTS story so far…also hi I’m temporarily back from my writing hiatus!

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie @fly-you-dam-fools @thornedswan

P.S. - I took about half the people off the taglist. If you were previously on my taglist and you’d like to be added back on, let me know!

52 notes · View notes

arazialotis · 11 months

Text

Get Him to the Con - Part 5

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: About 7500

Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warnings: Language, Mutual Pining, Creepy NPCs

I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as hobby. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

-----

What the hell was he thinking? What the hell did he just do?

Jensen paced the length of the cramped motel room. His hand trailed through his hair and down his jawline. He really wanted to call Jared, but based on their last conversation, he already knew how that would go. Leading up to it, he had been so at peace. The whole day had simply been magical. And you, your smile, your laughter, your teasing, and your thoughtful remarks had cemented how his heart yearned for you. Even so, he knew he should take things slowly, slower than a snail’s pace. Yet how you were seated there, lost in another world, the sun glowing against your skin and shining on your lips; he couldn’t, didn’t help himself.

Jared was right, he thought. You were a fan, naturally, which put you both at a disadvantage. Aside from your conversations, what did he know about you? He could be falling for Superfan99, and Jared was the logical one here. Maybe he should have run a background check. Maybe he should have had someone look into your internet identity. Maybe Jared’s proposal of a non-disclosure agreement wasn’t such an outlandish idea after all. And then there were the power dynamics that you had hinted at earlier in the day. His status, wealth, and privilege put him at an advantage and could influence your behavior. One wrong move and it could all backfire in his face with lawsuits or defamation.

He sat on his bed. No. No. This was stupid. He did know you. He did like you. A lot. He was just panicking. Not only from the look of horror on your face after your lips parted but from the fact what he really wanted to do was knock down your door and spend all night entwined together. All these thoughts that Jared had planted in his head, out of brotherly concern, Jensen reminded himself, were surfacing simply because, in fact, you were correct earlier today. His balls were very blue indeed, and he needed to think with his head instead of them.

Jensen flopped on the bed, his hands weaving through his hair yet again. Hastily, he grabbed his phone and quickly googled ‘celebrities who married their fans.’ Okay, now he was definitely rushing and overthinking things. You weren’t even dating, nor had you indicated any interest outside of a friendship. Despite this, he scrolled anyways, needing some affirmation that if this did progress, it could work.

“Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes.” He scoffed allowed. “Come on, that doesn’t count.”

Make-up artists, producers, designers, and public relations. All these people were in the film industry. They got it to a certain extent. Understood the life, the pressure, the criticism. He kept going. Bartender? That caught his attention.

“Matt fucking Damon!” Jensen exclaimed. “Get it, man. Get it.”

The phone clicked off, and relief flooded him. Yet the peace was temporary. He closed his eyes, and all he could feel were your soft, plush lips against his. And how it had been too short, far too short. He wanted more. His heart raced inside his chest, and he attempted to take long, deep breaths to steady it, but it was futile. It was going to be a long fucking night.

---

The anticipated knock on your door startled you nonetheless. You were close to ready but still needed a few touch-ups. That wasn’t really what was on your mind; you weren’t sure how you could possibly face him again. The butterflies had completely taken over your entire being. What had happened last night was unreal. It couldn’t have possibly happened. But it did. He had kissed you. And then practically ran away! What the hell was that supposed to mean?! Were you a bad kisser? Did he regret doing it? Was he just being a gentleman? Should you make the next move? It was too much.

The weight of the door was heavy as it slid across the carpet. The morning sun radiated off him. How was he so perfect, especially this early in the morning? He was in a denim button-up that made his skin glow. Skin you so badly wanted to taste. Oh god, did you swoon in front of him?

Jensen cleared his throat. “Mornin'.” His voice was gruff.

You couldn’t find words to speak.

“I brought coffee.” He held it out like an apology or peace offering.

You eagerly grabbed it from him. “God bless you.”

He chuckled. “Ready to hit the road?”

After finishing a sip of coffee, you responded, “Yeah. First, gotta tackle this mess.” You gestured to your hair and headed back for the mirror.

“Don’t do it for my account; I think bedhead suits you.” He squinted his eyes shut and tilted his head. Filter, filter, he reminded himself.

You were glad your back was turned as to conceal the blush wishing it was him who had given it to you rather than the restless night.

Say, something, anything else. He floundered, "Sleep well?"

"Mhmm." You responded with a high-pitched lie. "You?"

"Absolutely," He also lied and added to sell it. "Surprisingly comfortable mattresses."

"Right?" You agreed. "So rewarding after a long day."

As is with most mascara wearers, it was only natural for your mouth to part while applying it to your lashes. Jensen was honed in, his mouth matching yours. Quickly, he shifted attention to your luggage lest his body start to betray him. A few more finishing details, and you caved. Your hair was as good as it would get for the day. Besides, you'd be in the car mostly if yesterday were any indication. Jensen wrestled with your suitcase out the door, his muscles straining against the denim. What had you swooning early now had you envious. You bet he just woke up like that versus the forty-five minutes it had taken you. It wasn’t fucking fair. After a final sweep of the room, you joined him in the car.

Learning from yesterday, you didn’t pull up a map to navigate, for your only destination was west. However, during your restless sleep last night, you took advantage of the motel’s Wi-Fi and downloaded a few playlists and podcasts, assuming service would be spotty again at best. Jensen was back at the wheel, starting the day again. As he reversed, his arm stretched to the passenger seat, the gravel crunching underneath the tires. The toned definition of his arms demanded the most attention, yet yesterday you had overlooked the rich tan he had developed over the summer. The scent of cedar and rosemary plagued your mind again, and if you came away with one thing from this trip, you hoped it would be the name of whatever hygiene products he was using because, god, you needed more of it in your life.

The air was silent as you waited for him to say something, anything. It’s not like you had anything to discuss. It’s not like anything monumental had occurred last night. Oh, wait. No, that’s right. He kissed you! He kissed you and then ran away. Not giving you a second to process or respond. Just up and left as it was the most casual thing in the world. And how he sat across from you now, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the temperature. So nonchalantly, like what happened wasn’t a big deal. Maybe he was waiting to return to the highway to bring it up so he didn’t have to multitask thinking about directions. Or maybe he had regretted it and wanted to pretend the whole thing never happened.

The highway came into view, and the open road called your spirit onward. Jensen brushed his knuckles against his lips. Oh, those lips you wanted so badly to feel again with your own. He placed his grip back on the steering wheel, pinching his lips together and then licking them as if they were chapped. From last night you knew they were anything but. You squirmed in your seat, needing pressure and relief. The son of a bitch let out a huff of a chuckle, then covered it up as if he was clearing his throat. It was like he was teasing you, goading you, knowing exactly what he was doing, making sure you’d be the first to bring it up.

Well, two could play at that game. You fished through your purse, finding a sheer lip tint. You flipped the sun visor down and then meticulously and precisely began running the stick over your lips before pressing them together to spread the light shade and releasing it with a pop. You could feel his eyes on you, and you tried with all your might to keep a smirk from spreading. To top it off, you delicately ran a finger along your lip’s edge as if correcting a mistake. His chair creaked, and from the corner of your eye, you caught him adjusting the seam of his pants. There it was. You snapped the visor shut and threw the tint back in your purse. And you thought it was silent before.

Play it cool, you told yourself, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. “You wanna listen to a podcast or something?”

“Yeah,” He squeaked out and then adjusted his voice, grateful for a distraction. “Yeah. What do you got?”

You scrolled through your Spotify. “Hmmm… Ooh, um, The Cult of Multi-level Marketing, a few Lore episodes, one on the philosophy of simulation theory….”

“Simulation theory?”

“Yeah, like this reality isn’t the true base reality. We’re living in a computer program.” You explained.

“So, like The Matrix?” He asked.

“Kinda, except that it’s most probable that humans are controlling the simulation, and we don’t have actual bodies that need to be awakened and are not being harvested by machines. Think more along the lines of humans creating a computer program very similar to their world but then introducing situations and factors to see how it would play out in reality so that they can better prepare for, I don’t know, a global pandemic or World War III.” You tried your best to give an overview. Or like a fan and a celebrity randomly bumping into each other and going on not only one but two road trips, because what other possible explanation was there for this?

Jensen raised an eyebrow at you skeptically. “You believe in that crap?”

“First of all, it’s not crap. Neil deGrasse Tyson believed in it for years.” You defended.

“Oh, well, if Neil deGrasse Tyson…” He mocked.

But you cut him off because you weren’t finished. “Second. Of course, I don’t believe in it, but it is fun to think about and keep an open mind.”

“I don’t think I’ve had enough coffee to explore the metaphysics of life quite this early in the morning.” He went to sip from his cup.

“I also have a conspiracy theory regarding Princess Di.” You offered.

“I’m noticing a trend here.” He waved his hand around your space. “I’m not sure what the theme is exactly, but it is saying a lot about you.”

“And here I thought avoiding my regular cold cases would be enough to dissuade your concern.” You both chuckled. “I did also download a 30 for 30 series.”

He snapped his fingers, not needing to hear the further details. “That’s the one.”

“Fine,” You rescinded. “It’s only a matter of time before I turn you to the dark side, and then you won’t be able to stop.”

Two episodes in, and you were bored out of your skull, having solely downloaded a sports podcast for his benefit. But at least the tension had lifted. If he wasn’t ready to talk about it, you weren’t going to force him. You were making good time too. It wasn’t even noon, and you were already past Omaha.

“At this rate, we’ll be in Denver a day early.” You remarked. “Which is cool; I’m sure there’ll be a lot to do and explore tomorrow.”

Jensen chewed it over. “Say, which way is Kansas? We gotta be nearby.”

You thought about it for a second and then confidently pointed south.

“You up for a detour?” He asked.

“Lebanon or Lawerence?” You questioned, voicing your agreement.

"I've been to Lawrence once," He recalled. "At least I think it was Lawrence… Can't say the same about Lebanon."

"It's settled then."

Thankfully, you were still close enough to Omaha for a signal when you brought up maps. Despite Jensen’s spontaneity, you were glad you still had a signal; looking at directions now, you’d never have been able to find your way. It wasn’t like there was a direct highway leading there. It would require a lot of zigzagging on country roads used primarily by farmers and truck routes.

You stopped in Lincoln for brunch and, more importantly, a second cup of coffee. The conversation was casual and playful, yet not as flirtatious as if you were tiptoeing around a cliff's edge. One false move and you’d tumble off to your inevitable demise or learn, very quickly, how to fly. After brunch, you found a quaint park with a lake that you strolled, stretching your legs before another long jaunt in the car. Jensen learned about your aversion to geese and teased you incessantly until one started hissing and honking at him. Then his attitude changed from ‘We're not in a hurry to be anywhere’ to ‘We should get back on the road.’

With a third cup of coffee on the go, Jensen finally surrendered and let you listen to the podcast on simulation theory. A heated debate followed it; Jensen, the logical skeptic, and you, the blind follower, simply for the pleasure of pushing his buttons and riling him up. Needless to say, further podcasts were not queued up. As predicted, cell service became less frequent, so you switched to the downloaded playlist with the theme of road-tripping. Songs included There She Goes, Life in the Fast Lane, and Take Me Home, Country Roads. Carefreeness overtook you as you opened up, signing along with Jensen, unworried about your voice or inventive lyrics.

It felt like flying off the highway, with the windows rolled down and Jensen pushing the modern Impala to its limits. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky therefore requiring sunglasses, and Jensen placed his ballcap on your head to keep your hair from flying all over the place. You crossed your legs up on your seat, and your hand hung out the window.

He chuckled. “Just like Jared. I don’t know how y’all do that.”

“Occasional yoga,” You answered. “Keeps me flexible.”

“There are benefits to being flexible.” Jensen pondered and cleared his throat as you both thought about the same thing. Sparing you the need to respond, he turned up the radio, “Oh, I love this song.”

What was it? Oh, right, Go Your Own Way. He fumbled through the second verse but gave a decent performance, so you were none-the-wiser.

It was midafternoon when you neared Lebanon. Out of the farms and fields sprouted a sign on US 281.

“Geographical Center of the Continental US.” You read aloud.

“What on earth?” Jensen asked.

“We have to go! Hang a righteous!” You instructed, fearing he would miss the turn.

“The more you talk, the less you are making sense.” He said.

You flailed your arms. “Take a right, right here!”

He had to press the brakes harder than he would have liked, but he made it.

He giggled and repeated, “Hang a righteous. What do you say when need to go left?”

“Leftovers for breakfast, obviously.” You responded.

“Obviously.” He chuckled.

“Oh my god,” Realization dawned on you. “This is why they picked it for the show, isn’t it? The center of the US, not counting Alaska and Hawaii, of course.”

“Yes,” He drew out unconfidently. “That is exactly why.”

“You didn’t know either!” You playfully accused.

“I knew.” He brushed it off. “At some point, I’m sure.”

You approached the park at the T in the road. Kansas stretched on for miles around you. Not a single car or person was in view. Thankful to get out of the car, you stretched and walked around the small plot of land with the smallest little chapel, one monument dedicating the space, and a bulletin board with news clippings with pieces of paper shoved in saying ‘so-and-so’ was here.

You wandered over to read the monument; Jensen trailed behind.

“So, how does it feel to be at the center of the country?” He asked.

You gritted your teeth and whispered, “Anti-climatic.”

“At least we didn’t have to pay for this tourist trap.” He remarked.

“Shut up. You loved the mystery spot.” You teased back.

You inspected the bulletin board closer, seeing the visitors' names and everywhere they came from, surprised at how far some people had traveled, and hopefully not just for this.

“Hey, you got a pen and paper?” Jensen asked.

“I think so.”

After quickly running back and forth, you brought a sharpie and a torn journal sheet to him. He jotted something down and signed his name before shoving it in along with the rest of the notes. You got a closer look, and it read ‘Dean Winchester was here,’ today’s date, and signed by Jensen Ackles.

“One for the fan girlies.” He announced, proud of himself.

“Very kind of you,” You agreed, for it made your own fangirl heart flutter.

Turning back on the road, you headed for downtown Lebanon. It was smaller than you expected, though you weren’t sure what you were expecting to begin with. A few houses were cute and quaint, and most needed work like paint touch-ups and a good weeding. Some needed a lot of work. The stretch of downtown truly brought to life the meaning of a one-horse town.

Though there were some recent renovations for tourists, Jensen leaned against the main city sign, avoiding stepping on the flowers and shrubbery. You happily snapped a few photos for him, and he returned the favor as you got a couple in the historical city jail replica.

“Does this count for the bucket list?” He asked.

“Pfft.” You leaned against the frame, arms sticking out between the strap-iron bars. “Hardly.”

“I could ask if they’ll keep ya overnight.” He offered, pointing over his shoulder back to city hall.

“Oooh, we could plan an intricate escape plan and heist, becoming the next Bonnie and Clyde.” You elaborated. “I like it.”

“Alright,” He started to walk away, calling your bluff. “I’ll go get you arrested for something.”

“Wait,” You squealed. “No. Jensen! Let me out!” You strained to reach for the latch keeping you caged.

“Not a chance.” He kept walking. “You gotta prepare for the real deal. If you can’t survive a night here, there is no way you will survive the feds.”

“Wait until I get out of here.” You threatened. “You are in for it.”

You poked your arm through another gap and stretched for the latch. Your fingers grazed it, and you pushed a little further, finally unhinging it. As promised, you ran after him, fully meaning to tackle him. However, he braced himself, knowing what was coming. A small grunt escaped him as you jumped up on his back. He gripped the underside of your thighs, supporting you, and carried you on his back to the car.

“Now you’re really caught.” He chuckled.

“Bull.” You said and wrapped your arms a little tighter around his chest. “We could play this out like Westley and Fezzik, and I’m telling you now, I’d win.”

“Inconceivable.” He said.

“You keep using that word…” You quoted.

And he finished. “I do not think it means what you think it means.”

You laughed as he set you down on the pavement. “So… which way to the bunker?”

He flipped the keys in his hand, mentally preparing for another few hours at least in the car. “Aw, I’m sorry. Insider secret. You have to be a person of letters to get that knowledge.”

You faked a pout but chuckled, then stretched your back, not quite wanting to get back in the car. “I reckon the only bunkers round these parts are corn-filled.”

“Or poultry-filled… I reckon,” He matched your southern drawl.

“They should add one, though. Reach a wider range of tourists. Or, at the very least, make a little museum. Maybe that’s what I’ll plan for my midlife crisis. Move to Lebanon, and open a bookstore slash cafe slash flower shop slash Supernatural museum.” You rambled. “And then I will finally start leeching off our relationship, and you can bring me free stuff from set that I can stock in the museum.”

“That's a lot of slashes. I’m either impressed that you made that up all on the spot or concerned that has been your plan from the get-go.” He said. “And I’m equally concerned that you are planning a midlife crisis, not letting it happen spontaneously as nature intended.”

“I’m trying to be spontaneous, okay?” You whined. “This is a big step for me. Having things planned out and knowing what to expect helps a lot with anxiety. I’m learning to find the fun in stuff like this.” You waved your hands around as if to showcase this whole trip.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized. “I was teasing you, Y/N. It’s good to have a balance of both. I have my whole day to days planned out by someone other than me, so trips like this with no agenda to follow are refreshing. But I realize if you lived like this 24/7, it would be more than chaotic, and you’d potentially miss out on a lot.”

You huffed.

“It’s a good thing.” He observed. “We balance each other.”

You could accept that. “I am trying. And there’s a lot we’d have missed out on, too, if I had planned everything out.��

“I could have missed out on the mystery spot.” He agreed.

“You are never going to let that go, are you?” You envisioned.

“Never.” He grinned. “Let’s get back on the road and grab a snack…”

“I’m not hangry.” You said, but his eyes challenged you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

Stopping on the way out of town for gas, you both went inside to grab a cold drink for the road. Jensen nudged you with his hip once you went for your wallet and beat you to the draw. You blushed from the contact and linked your elbow around his, placing your hand in his. He interlaced his fingers with yours. And you weren’t sure if it was his pulse or yours that you felt violently pounding against your wrist.

“Well, aren’t you two just the cutest little lovebirds,” The cashier remarked, and you pulled your hand out of his, realizing what you had done. “What brings you two out to Lebanon?”

Jensen grabbed it back as he responded, his voice leaning more into that Texas accent that rarely peeked out, “Passing through. On our way to Colorado.”

“Oh, well, if that is the case, you gotta play clouds or mountains!” She exclaimed.

“Clouds or mountains?” The question barely left your mouth, too focused on Jensen’s thumb now brushing the length of yours.

“Sounds like a drinking game.” He remarked.

“It better not be since you play it when you’re driving. But anyways, me and my friends play it anytime we’re headed out that way. Trust me, when you grow closer and closer, you can’t tell the difference if it’s a cloud or mountain, especially in the spring with the white caps, but I suppose your a little late for that.” She explained.

“What does the winner get?” You asked.

“Oh, trust me. You’re both winners at the end of that game after driving hours on a flat road.” She chuckled. “Though I suppose you could make a bet to sweeten the pot for whoever guesses mountains correctly first.”

Jensen thanked her for the advice and drinks, but she wasn’t finished yet. “Say, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“Nah,” He waved it off. “I have one of those faces.”

“Sir,” She scolded. “Trust me. You do not have one of the faces. Sweetie,” She directed at you. “You better keep him on a leash. More than a few ladies round these parts would be more than happy to take in a stray.”

Your brain stopped functioning. How on earth were you supposed to respond to something like that? First off, it was completely derogatory. It’s not like you would claim him, or any man for that matter, as your property. Second, he wasn't even yours to claim. You both shared a wide-eyed look, and he smirked, intervening with that natural charm.

"I don't need a leash to heel for this one. She buys the brand name kibble and gives the best belly rubs." He boasted.

Your cheeks flushed with magma.

“Lucky son of a gun. If you ever find yourself in the doghouse, you come back around here anytime.” She offered.

Jensen winked at her, thanked her again, and the door chimed as you exited. You were both about to return to the car when your exasperated huff stopped Jensen. Your brows were furrowed together, and you were shaking your head. The heel of your foot squeaked as you turned sharply, marching back.

“Hey, hey.” Jensen chased after you and became a wall in front of you, blocking you from the building. “Where are you going?”

“I am going back in there and telling that woman,” You pointed furiously, “Exactly what I think.”

Jensen chuckled, this new fury in you surprising yet equally adorable. “And what exactly do you think?”

“You don’t talk to people like that!” You nearly shrieked.

“It’s fine Y/N,” He tried his best to diffuse the situation. “She meant no harm.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” You protested, glaring into the storefront.

He grabbed your shoulders and leaned down to capture your gaze. “Make like Elsa, and let it go.”

You tried so hard to hold onto your anger but failed, a snicker escaping.

He physically turned you and forced you back to the car, your feet dragging the whole way.

“‘Sides,” He remarked, “I’m a Doberman. I can fight my own battles.”

Now you snorted. “You’re a corgi at best.”

A sharp tinge pinched at your ribs, and you yelped in response. “That’s a lot of smack coming from someone ranking in as a chihuahua.”

You gasped, “How dare you!”

“A little furball of fiery rage ready to defeat the cosmos one ineffective ankle bite at a time.” Jensen laughed harder at his own antics when you shook your head. “You even got the shakes down!”

“I’m so done with you right now.” You fake fumed and slouched into the passenger’s seat.

“You love it.” His tongue peeked out between his teeth.

You tried again to hold onto the anger, but then it melted into a cheesy smile and confirmed with a head nod. Once he knew the beast had been tamed, he shut your door, and you headed for another long stretch of road. Consulting your map while you still had service seemed like the best bet, but directions were simple enough.

“Few minutes south outta Lebanon, then west on 36. Straight shot to Denver from there.” You tucked your phone away. “Let me know when you want to switch.”

“I still got a while in me.”

Time flew by as the scenic pictures of rural America repeated; fields, run-down farms, junk piled to the sky, and an occasional wealthy, newly renovated estate. Small towns came and went, some lasting a mere crossroads, others three blocks maximum. The estimated arrival time was slowed by the inconvenience of no longer having the expressway. Rusted-out trucks from the 80s and semis carting full loads of goods from produce, dairy, to livestock slowed the traffic. At least Jensen was still driving as he had the gall to pass the slower vehicles. Conversation was frequent but not constant. The time was filled with more tunes, podcasts, shared pining, and wondering if you could feel the other’s lips properly the second time if it ever came.

He was rubbing his own lips and lost in that exact thought when you broke his concentration.

“Hey, Jensen?” You asked.

“Hmm?”

The last remaining rays of sun brought out the dusting of freckles on his skin and the gold flecks in his eyes. No Instagram filter could compete. He looked at you almost as if he was thinking the same thing. Wishing he could capture this scene forever, but no photo could truly do it justice.

You cleared your throat and nodded ahead. “Clouds or mountains?”

That shocked him out of whatever thought he was lost in. He looked at the clock and wondered if he had missed the state line. Surely, you were not in Colorado yet. But then he looked ahead and whistled. The sun was disappearing between purple and blue luminous clouds towering into the atmosphere.

“That is one big ass storm system.” And you were headed right for it.

---

Rain pounded against the windshield that the wipers futilely attempted to clear. The sky had gone as dark as the middle of the night, and the wind howled as its only goal was to force the car off the road. The headlights only scouted out a few feet ahead, and the tail lights in the distance indicated others were just about as thrilled as you. Jensen’s knuckles were stark white, gripping the steering wheel as tight as he could. There was no conversation, no music, the only focus on making it out alive. Even at the slow pace of thirty-five miles per hour, your eyes squeezed shut as gusts of wind pounded into the side of the car, or thunder roared up ahead. Lighting cracked across the sky, and the world lit up as it made contact with the lone tree in the field next to you.

“Jesus!” “Shit!” Both of you swore in unison.

Jensen slowed as you watched embers spark from inside the tree despite the downpour. That was the final straw. You pulled up your map, and though it shouldn’t have surprised you at this point, there was no service.

“Remind me to switch phone plans if I get back.” The irritation in your voice rose through. “Is yours any better?”

Jensen fished his out of his pocket and unlocked it before handing it to you. No luck.

“And here I thought you’d have some fancy-schmancy satellite plan. For god's sake, they send people to the moon and have had full conversations; you would think Verizon and T-Mobile could get their shit together!” You ranted.

He chuckled, but it was tense.

“Oh, oh, my map is loading, just not directions.” You tried to give him some semblance of hope. “We’re coming up on a town on the right, just a few miles. There might be a motel or a least a place to stop and wait for the rest to pass.”

A few more miles and the semi-truck ahead of you turned right, looking for an escape as well.

“This must be it.”

“What the fuck?” Jensen whined upon seeing red sign after red sign lit up with no vacancy.

“There!” You pointed.

He pulled in, and it was obvious you were the only car in the parking lot. With all the other hotels full, it sent a shiver down your spine. Before either of you committed to brave the rain, you connected to the motel’s wi-fi to check the weather radar. The storm was going nowhere. Not tonight, at least.

“Purple?” Jensen asked. “Is purple even a radar color? That can’t be good.”

You both ran to the motel’s office, soaked instantly from head to toe. The door was locked and but the office light was on. You were about to read the sign to Jensen, but thunder boomed around you, so instead, you just pointed, saying honk for service. Unlikely that anyone could hear it over the sound of wind and pounding rain. Yet Jensen ran back to the car, blazing the horn a few times before rejoining you under the awning.

A light appeared in the house next door, and soon a figure in a bright yellow poncho appeared, frantically looking for his keys and corralling you inside.

“Wow,” The toothpick of a man gasped out of breath. “You sure know how to pick a time to check in.”

If you had to guess, the office around hadn’t been updated since the 70s. Burnt orange carpet matted down, wood paneling that went halfway up the walls transitioning into yellow floral wallpaper, and the smell of cigarette smoke embedded into everything. Taxidermy birds and sketches adorned the walls. Ducks, a kingfisher, a pheasant, and an owl who stared down at you with spread wings and haunting yellow eyes. You stepped closer to Jensen.

“We’ll take two rooms for the night.” Jensen requested, and you started shivering as the cold wettness of the rain soaked through to your bones.

“We’re currently under renovations and just have the one, but it’s a double.” He went through a paper ledger; there was no computer in sight.

Jensen had joked about the twilight zone yesterday, but now it was as if you had actually stepped into it. You shared a look and silently agreed to make it work, not wanting to risk going out again in this. The thunder and flash of lightning outside confirmed your decision.

“We’ll take it.” Jensen decided and laid his card down, wondering if they even accepted cards.

When the man accepted it and slowly typed the numbers into a machine, Jensen noted he needed to carefully review his next few statements. He seemed to be in his late thirties but still had a boyishness. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had never left this town.

“Jensen Ackles.” The man remarked. “An unusual name. I have a plain old name. Anthony Perkins, though I suppose you don’t hear the name Anthony so much anymore. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Charmed,” Jensen said tersely.

“And what might your name be?” He asked innocently enough, but his eyes bore into you similar to the stuffed owl’s.

“Y/N… Ackles.” At this point, you didn’t care if it made Jensen uncomfortable; you didn’t like how this man looked you up and down.

Jensen’s jaw flexed.

Anthony laughed sheepishly, “Then I suppose you won’t mind sharing a room, that is, unless you’ve had a fight recently or little ones in the car.”

He was right; your lie didn’t make sense. “Siblings, actually.” You stuttered out.

“Ah,” His eyes lit back up, and handed Jensen back his card.

Your eyes flashed him a help me sign, but he didn’t catch on. Anthony began writing down in the ledger and passed it to Jensen, indicating where to sign. He watched impatiently, bouncing as Jensen wrote his information and signed.

“You folks in town for the cattle auction tomorrow?” He asked.

“Yes.” Now that you had started a lie, apparently, you couldn’t stop, but you wanted this man to know nothing about you.

“You don’t look like the rancher types, if you don’t mind me saying.” He remarked, and you very much did mind.

“We recently got back into it.” Jensen finally caught up to your uneasiness. “Our great-grandfather started a ranch north of Dallas and passed it down to his son and then our father. We both tried to leave, Y/N for a law degree and me for… veterinary services, but we got roped back in.”

“That’s nice, though, and your areas of study fit the business.” Anthony said. “My mother started this motel, and now I run it for her that she is unable. There’s nothing like a family business.”

“Right.” You agreed. “That’s what our ranch is. The family business. Saving cattle…” What the fuck was coming out of your mouth.

You looked at Jensen for aid, and he thinly smiled. “Hunting… deals.”

“Saving cattle?” Anthony asked, confused.

Your eyes blinked rapidly. “Oh, you know, from the big corporations, like McDonald’s. Small farm life, pasture-raised, so much more ethical for the animals. So finding deals at auctions like this for a cow nobody wants is rewarding in its own way.” You swallowed hard. Nobody in their right mind would believe this bullshit.

But Jensen was having the time of his life with it. He leaned against the counter. “Our dad was supposed to come up this way for the auction but went missing three weeks back. So you see, I came looking for him but got no leads. Y/N, with her fancy Hartford law degree, has better luck with the police usually.” He paused, looking back at the ledger and scanning the other names. “Say you haven’t heard about any missing people around here?”

You covered your face, looking contemplative, but truly you were hiding a smirk. Anthony swallowed and shook his head no.

“What about anything unusual?” He pressed further.

“Unusual?” Anthony repeated.

“Yeah,” Jensen’s voice cracked. “Problems with the electricity, smells of manure, phantom mooing.”

He chuckled. “With the cattle auction nearby and the fields all around, it always smells like manure, but I don’t see what that has to do with your missing father?”

Okay, this had gone on long enough. “You like birds, Anthony?” You attempted to divert the conversation.

“Oh yes, very much so.” He grinned. “Their elegant, delicate, free creatures. I do most of the work myself, though some I purchase. I’m quite pleased with the owl and the sketch of the flock of crows. You almost remind me of a bird. I’d like to sketch you if you have the time.”

And that was enough fun for Jensen. He stood up straight. “Maybe next time.” He said firmly but didn’t want to offend your host. “Let’s grab some food…”

Anthony grabbed a key from behind the desk and handed it to Jensen. “I think most restaurants closed early tonight for the storm, but Mother and I were just sitting down for dinner before you came. I’m sure she would be happy to share.”

“Thank you,” You offered. “But I’m not that hungry, and we have plenty of food in the car.”

“If you change your mind, feel free to come up to the house; we don’t bite.” He offered one last time.

You were towing your luggage and the snack basket as fast as you could out of the car and under the awing next to room number 6.

When you were certain Anthony was back in the house, you exhaled, “What the fuck was that?”

“Saving cattle? Really?” He critiqued your improv skills.

You slapped his shoulder. “That’s not what I’m talking about, but while we are at it, phantom mooing.”

But then you and Jensen laughed until another roll of thunder caused you to jump.

“Get us inside,” You coaxed him. “After all that, I’m glad there’s only one room.”

Jensen fumbled with the keys. “Renovations, my ass; he just doesn’t want to clean two rooms. But I would have insisted on one after all that anyways. That guy gives me the creeps. I’m not leaving you alone near him.”

The door swung open, and Jensen stopped at the threshold.

“Bates motel much?” And then you saw why Jensen froze. You stuttered, “When he said double, I was thinking two twins.”

“Yeah,” Jensen agreed. “Double as in a full-sized mattress.”

You surveyed the town around you. Aside from house lights, nothing else was open except the motel down the street, with its sign still reading no vacancy. The parking lot filled to the brim with livestock trailers now made sense. As if the night couldn’t get worse, the wind picked up again, and the thunder grew in intensity and frequency.

“We... We’ve, we’ve,” You couldn’t spit it out. “We’ve shared a bed before.”

“Yup.” Jensen gulped.

“We’ll make a pillow barricade.” You suggested.

“Pillow barricade?”

“Is something the matter?” Anthony called from down the porch. “You’ve been standing out here for an awfully long time.”

You squinted your eyes shut.

“No, thank you, Anthony,” Jensen yelled over the wind, guiding you inside.

Once inside, you shivered from the chill. The decor matched that of the office. Jensen wrestled with the window on the far side of the room. It was futile. The window was completely busted, stuck open.

“Son of a bitch.” He muttered to himself.

Your teeth chattered.

“Why don’t you get a shower,” He instructed. “It’ll warm you up.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, yet you carefully got all the necessary items. Now that you were in here, the steam rolling up to the ceiling, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Only the door separated you and him. And you found yourself shaking again. You encouraged yourself with deep breaths and let your jeans fall around your ankles, followed by everything else.

You survived, taking a quick shower to leave hot water for him before snuggling into your pajamas, much more comfortable than before. Jensen looked up for the edge of the bed once you exited. He licked his lips and found he had trouble breathing. You couldn’t help but blush. He seemed to want to say something but decided against it.

“It’s all yours,” You offered.

“Thanks.” He rushed past you.

The water started again, and your mind wandered imagining the two of you joined in the water’s steam. Heating yourselves not just with the water but the with each other, your mouths exploring every inch of skin, tugging on hair, pressed against the tiled wall. A new shiver ran through you, and you had to distract yourself. You flipped on the TV and rested against the headboard.

When Jensen came out, he did not have the courtesy of fore planning. His waist was wrapped in the white cotton that was practically a dish towel. The drops of water accentuated the lines of his muscles. The v that traveled down… You forced your gaze back to the TV, though you couldn’t see the picture, the image in your mind too distracting, the pounding of your heart too loud to hear the words.

He seemed completely unaffected by this precarious situation. He dried his hair with the spare towel.

“Silence of the Lambs, really?” He scoffed. “You’re not going to be able to sleep tonight.”

Oh, I won’t be sleeping tonight, but that is not the reason why. “It was this, the weather, or Fox News.”

He rolled his eyes before returning to the bathroom to change into gray joggers and a white undershirt. “Hannibal it is.”

You squinted your eyes shut; the joggers were as sinful as the towel. The weight of the bed dipped, and the springs creaked as he slid in next to you. His arm snaked behind you and drew you in. It felt natural; it felt like home. You leaned your head against his shoulder, and your racing heart stilled, perfectly content.

“I ate his liver,” Jensen quoted along with the movie. “With some fava beans and a nice chianti.”

You huffed a laugh. “Jensen?”

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Will you protect me from Norman Bates and Buffalo Bill?”

“Not Hannibal?” One of his brows raised.

You snuggled in further to him. “Give it fifteen to twenty years, and I think you’d be perfect for a remake.”

He chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” You explained. “He’s protective, polite, intelligent… occasionally spontaneous and the only man in the movie not to objectify Clarice, though objectifying can be nice if the occasion calls for it.”

“Sounds like you have a crush on him,” He observed.

You snorted. “No, absolutely not. Oh, but that one scene where he grazes Clarice’s finger...” You exaggerated a shiver.

“Macabre,” He suddenly announced. “That’s the theme I was looking for early. You’re very macabre.”

You giggled. “Goes hand in hand with your show, I guess.”

“Fair,” He agreed, and then his stomach grumbled. “Where did those snacks get off to?”

You reached for them, never leaving the bed, and settled them on his stomach, producing a grunt. Jensen dug through the basket, and you cuddled in closer. Underneath the sheets, his barefoot rubbed against yours, and even though the wind whipped through the open window being next to him would keep you warm all night.

Heat followed Silence of the Lambs, which Jensen was thrilled by, but even though it was earlier for you than usual, you began dosing off, your head rising and falling with the breathing of his chest. His scent surrounded you and lulled you further. He gently stroked your hair and pulled you closer.

------

Continue here to Part 6

GHTTC Tags: @maggiegirl17

#Jensen Ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #supernatural #spn fanfiction #SPN FANDOM

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