#but yeah this is just a collective coping mechanism to deal with all the violence going on

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (08) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, attempted assault; use of the term slut in a derogatory way, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 17.4k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: Hiii thank you again for all your love and appreciation for this story. Srsly, I'm perpetually blown away 🥰 But like I've mentioned, updates will take longer after this as I return to uni, so I hope for your patience as we get closer to the end.

This chapter also contains triggering topics such as sexual harassment and attempted assault. There's a discussion on what happens after something traumatizing like that, so pls be cautious and know that what's depicted here is just another way of dealing with such experience.

On another note, I hope you enjoy this!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The end-of-autumn chilly air pierces through your skin, lingering even as you settle inside the plant store that gives the warmth that you need. You sigh in relief, and Soomin and Jimin giggle at you because they know how you are. It’s why during moments like this, their affection shows, hugging you from each side as you look up at the shelf for another rubber tree you want to add to your collection.

“What are you two on about?” You ask, nonchalantly releasing your arm to get your chosen glossy plant. 

“Nothing, just showing our love,” Soomin says, resting her chin on your shoulder. “We know you love the cold even if you easily get cold. You don’t like hugs either but you can’t do anything about us.”

“It’s true that I can’t do anything about the both of you,” you hum. “But you also know it’s not that I don’t like hugs. It’s just not my preferred form of affection.”

“Even after all the years that we’ve been giving it to you?” Jimin asks, as he pulls away from you to place the plant in your cart.

“Yeah. I mean, if I only give or receive it every few weeks, then it wouldn’t be,” you respond. “But I also wouldn’t really know. Other than you guys, there’s not much affection I feel towards other people.”

It’s a reality you’ve long accepted. You’re away from your family and friends, and the only other form of affection you receive is through sex with the few men you’ve been interested in - pleasurable at best, shallow at worst. Perhaps it’s the reason why you do, you think now. They’re still good substitutes. Being alone doesn’t feel so lonely when you’re intimate with people you don’t exactly share moments of intimacy with. You’ve learned these last few years that there’s a difference. 

Your friends just hum in agreement, choosing now to point out that your home is transforming into some zen garden with the amount of plants you’ve bought just this last month. 

“Should I just be a gardener or a plant store worker?” You look at them. “Or study to become a landscape designer?”

“Honey, tending to low-maintenance plants is a different thing,” Soomin chuckles. “That’s a start, though. But kidding aside, so a career change is what you’re going for?”

“Hmm, just a thought,” you shrug. “What if moving companies isn’t just what I need? What if it’s doing something completely different? Like being out of an office or answering to someone or something?”

“That’s true. Sometimes we find what we’re looking for in unfamiliar environments,” Jimin chimes in. “Are you thinking about doing it soon?”

“Maybe not,” you say. “I’ve become quite invested in the Arts Center and I really wanna see it through. Maybe after it’s opened, then that’s when I’ll finally step away.”

“Well, you have been doing a lot of work for it,” Soomin agrees. “But… are you sure it’s the only thing holding you back? And not someone specific? A boss, maybe?”

“The Arts Center isn’t holding me back, Soo. And neither is Jungkook,” you state. “After all the years I spent in the company, I don’t wanna let anything or anyone keep me from doing what’s best for me. I don’t… I don’t wanna get stuck there. I don’t wanna keep feeling indebted. That’s what’s held me back this whole time.”

“Oh, hun,” Soomin sighs. “You don’t owe anyone anything. And if you did, you’ve paid your dues, all eight years of them.”

As Jimin heads out to get his car, she entangles her arm around yours and asks again if your decision to wait to resign has something to do with Jungkook.

“Why are you so insistent?” You frown at her. 

“Just… wondering. You haven’t expressed disdain for him in so long. Even the weekly ugh work drives me nuts messages have stopped, and that says a lot. I was just thinking that maybe he’s gone soft on you, and that you’ve gone soft on him, too. I just wanna make sure I’m ready when you drop the bomb on us or something. I mean, you two have so much tension, who knows what’ll happen?”

“Okay, what if I’ve just developed better coping mechanisms now and can manage without complaining about it? That’s a possibility. And, even if I’ve been busy with organizing events and stuff, I actually enjoy that,” you explain. 

“Okay. So what about Jungkook?”

You look away, knowing that any acknowledgment of the comfort you’ve started to feel around him may start to mean something else once you say it. Admitting even the tiniest bit of attraction is even more of a no-no, so you just play it off, the same way you did when you got home from the gala and you dodged all questions about him, choosing instead to talk about the delicious food and the weird people you met. 

“We’ve found a way to move on from how we started and learned that we actually work really well together. We have to be professional and all that.”

Right, you scoff to yourself. Thinking about your boss’ smile as you fall asleep is anything but professional.

“Fine, whatever you say,” she gives in as the car comes into view. “Just know that I’m here, okay? Jimin’s a bit protective and still hasn’t gotten over how that man treated you so you can talk to me in case anything else changes.” 

“I will,” you say, giving her hand a squeeze. 

You spend the rest of that weekend watching movies and singing your hearts out at a karaoke and stuffing your faces with good food. Before you know it, you’re back in your bed on a Sunday, all alone, but you don’t feel so lonely, nor do you feel so terrible at having to start another week. If anything, you’re wondering how Jungkook spent these last two days. At a club, maybe. He did say there’s always a party he’s invited to. 

You stop yourself from thinking of what happens after that. He’s got women at his beck and call after all, even when he’s in Singapore, as Lucas had told you during your call two months ago. But it doesn’t really matter - Jungkook is Jungkook and you’re you. And that’s not yet even considering the glaring reality of him being your boss. 

Ever since the gala, you can say that there’s been a change in how you’ve been with him. There’s a lot more attention, you’d say. There’s more admiration, too, when it comes to him doing his work, making decisions, and drawing up plans and designs. 

You understand the distance and the detachment somehow. You suppose that whatever he experienced made him that way, so you’d make an effort into making him smile, teasing him a little more than usual so there’s a bit more joy in his day. You can say he’s gotten used to it. Even Mr. Ri would laugh and join in. 

And that’s the thing - you anticipate it. You look forward to the curl of his lips and the dip on his lower cheek and the softness in his eyes and the way he turns away or bows his head to hide it. Even the way he’d play it off is quite endearing, a term you never thought you’d use to describe him. It makes you wonder if people had tried to get to know him, maybe knock on the door and wait around to see if he’d come out and let them in. 

But all that has brought you to right now - Sunday night as you think about seeing him the next morning. You think back to all the times that you’d entered his penthouse and saw him in his gym attire post-workout, the seconds you’d spent so close to him as you adjusted his necktie, and the breakfasts and car rides you’d shared. You recall the nods of acknowledgement after serving him his coffee, the times he’d agreed with your recommendations, and the instances he’d turned to you for support and his look of thanks after you’ve given it. 

Then there’s the grazing of your fingertips, the brushing of arms, the interlocking of eyes.

And your heart, beating a little too fast then.

You groan to yourself. You really have to find a way for this to stop.

You try to keep your distance from Jungkook for the next few days. 

You do your usual - fix his outfit, eat with him the breakfast you prepared, go through schedules, and join him in meetings. You do away with the eye contact, you skip the teasing, and you don’t share about your evening like you’ve been doing. And that’s only because doing so just gives you moments to remember, like his gazes lingering or the sound of his laughter. Even more, it messes with your mind thinking that just like you, he spends most of his weeknights alone. 

You act unbothered, although him catching you looking at him from your office seat and then you, quickly looking away doesn’t really help your case. 

It’s on Wednesday when he passes by your desk to put back some files and you return to your task after giving him a small smile when he asks if you’re okay.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon. Just a little tired but aren’t we all?” You respond, your eyes flitting from him to your desktop screen. 

“Yes, but most of us take breaks. You don’t,” he counters.

“Neither do you,” you turn to him with an arched brow. 

It’s become a habit of yours to remind him to rest but just like you, he’s pretty stubborn. 

“Ah, there you are,” he chuckles. “I was almost convinced you’re not really my assistant if you didn’t point that out but alas, it’s you.”

“Are you testing me, sir?” You frown at him. 

A mistake, really, since he gives you that teasing smirk of his that you’re learning is your weakness. 

“Maybe,” he shrugs. “You just haven’t seemed like yourself all week and I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. You can take a leave tomorrow, if that’s what you need.”

“It’s okay, sir. And I’m fine,” you assure him, realizing that there’s not much that could keep you away from him. “Plus, we have that dinner with the media festival organizers tomorrow evening and it’s the only time they’re free.”

“I know,” he sighs. “As long as you’re sure. It’s selfish but I do need you there.”

Of course he does, you think to yourself. You’re there to make his life easier, after all. It’s the only reason why he’d ever need you or want you around. 

You confirm that you’ll go to work tomorrow and sigh in relief when he doesn’t say anything more. You decide to go home, wanting to get to the weekend so you can find some distraction, in whatever way that may be. 

Thursday comes and you spend your day divided between working with the support team for the upcoming VP events and coordinating with the Arts Center marketing team for the deliverables they need signed off. 

It’s busy enough that you don’t see much of Jungkook but that only really lasts until you have to accompany him to that welcome dinner with the organizers of the international media festival that Jungkook wanted to collaborate with for the Arts Center promotions. It’s happening in August of next year and while the partnership has been established,  he wants to work on his relationship with them so that the plans could firm up quickly. 

You head to Jungkook’s restaurant of choice in Itaewon, a fancy place that serves Korean dishes in a modern, artistic way. You’ve heard about it before; the food looks like something you could put at an art gallery. Korea’s exceptional ability to merge traditional and modern elements is reflected in this restaurant’s menu. It’s why he wanted to bring them here, he tells you. 

You settle in your seat, excited for the dishes that are about to come out, and that’s when you see him, the man you dated before Hajoon, and someone you haven’t heard from in a while. Of course, that wasn’t always the case. He continued to reach out months after you ended things with him. It seemed harmless then, and it was only two years ago when he finally stopped. 

Chi-won recognizes you first, having come in to serve the first set of dishes. He stares as he sets the plate in front of you, his gaze lingering even as he moves on to one of the organizers to your right. He looks different, which is why it took you another look for his face to register. He’s lost weight and cut his hair; his features look somehow harder, too. 

There’s an intensity in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He was pretty laid-back, a reason why you both clicked that first time. He’d have his moments of frustration, letting them out in his own ways like in the bedroom, but he always seemed to get over them quickly.

Things were always casual and you made sure he knew that. He didn’t seem to mind at first but he started to want more and with your new role with Hoseok then, you were always tired and busy. The nights with Chi-won stopped being your relief, and when you told him you couldn’t see him anymore, he seemed to accept it. The messages shortly after were just about asking how you were doing and after answering twice, you stopped replying and then changed your number. You haven’t heard from him since, and you assumed he’d just accepted things and moved on.

But tonight you feel the tension, and so when he stands close to you when he serves the succeeding plates and when he waits around your table to watch you eat, you start to feel uncomfortable. 

You try to be present in the conversation happening around you, as the organizers seem to be enjoying the meal while also pitching in some ideas for the launch. You try to focus on Jungkook’s voice this time to distract you. But the pair of eyes that seems to watch your every move starts to become too much, and the anxiety builds as each second ticks by.

It’s while you wait for the dessert when you take the opportunity to step out. Jungkook mentions the invitation drafts so you say that they’re saved in your iPad that you’ll retrieve from the car parked on the other street. He agrees that it would be good to show them, so you excuse yourself and get some much needed fresh air, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulder just by not being in the same space as Chi-won. 

That is, until you hear a familiar voice call your name. 

You stiffen for only a moment then continue to walk, fumbling for your phone as you try to dial Mr. Ri’s number. But you don’t get to, as the man following you pulls your wrist to get you to face him. You jerk in response, dropping your phone on the ground, and the fear fills you immediately.

“Don’t touch me,” you seeth, cradling your arm as you pick up your phone. 

You try to stay calm, even as his smug face gives you chills, and you try to remember the man who liked to laugh and joke around those years ago, seeing now that he’s nothing like him.

“Funny you say that when that’s all you wanted me to do before,” he mocks, inching closer to you. “I know you remember, ___. Those nights were amazing, weren’t they? Your body and your moans told me so, so I don’t know why you wanted them to stop.”

You want to stay silent and not give him anything, but there’s desperation in his eyes, and you’re afraid of what he’ll do if you don’t even acknowledge him, so you give the same explanation you did before.

“I told you. I didn’t want anything serious,” you say, making sure you keep your distance from him. 

“That’s not what you’d say whenever you’re drunk,” he counters. “You’d go on about not wanting to be alone, about wanting to be taken care of and being with someone who made you feel loved.”

“I never said I wanted it to be you,” you respond, too quickly for his liking it seems, as you see his look turn into anger. 

“So what was I for?” He demands. “Just the guy you fucked for the sake of it?”

“I was stressed with work and you hated yours,” you remind him. “That’s all we needed each other for.”

“But things changed for me,” he says, his voice softening again, the fluctuation of his tone scaring you even more. “I wanted to be with you. And seeing you now, I know I still do.”

“But I don’t,” you state. “I didn’t then and I don’t even now.”

“But you wanted that restaurant owner, didn’t you?” He demands, worrying you that he knows about Hajoon. 

“No, that didn’t mean anything. We were never together.”

“Bullshit, ___. I’d see you at the clubs around here with his arm on your waist, just like I used to do. That clearly meant something.”

The thought that Chi-won kept tabs on you even after you ended things makes you angry. Perhaps it’s because he works around the area you frequented during those times but even then, the fact that he even knows what Hajoon does for a living is crossing the line, and in your frustration, you hit Chi-won where it hurts the most.

“Clearly it didn’t mean enough because I’m not seeing him anymore. And I was never serious with him, just like I wasn’t with you.”

He visibly groans. He walks closer to you again, prompting you to walk backwards. With you turned back and walking on your heels on the uneven pavement, you’re worried you’ll hurt yourself. Even more, a part of you is scared that he’ll hurt you. It’s still early on a Thursday night and you’re in the quieter part of town so there aren’t many people walking on the streets; those who are are too far for you to catch their attention. So you continue your steps until you’re backed up against the wall and with nowhere to go, you start to panic, feeling the fear slowly overtake you. 

“You know, I came out here because I wanted to talk to you just to see how you were doing since you know, I actually cared about you like you wanted,” he rolls his eyes. “But seeing you act like none of what we shared mattered just makes me so angry. Why do you get to go on and treat me like shit? I’m just gonna have to do the same, then.”

At this, he cages you, his face too close to yours that you freeze in fear. The smirk makes you nauseous, but somehow you find the strength to push him away but he comes back right after, closer each time.

“I said, don’t touch me!” You yell, giving him another shove. “Just stay away from me!”

Chi-won grabs your wrist once more, holding you tightly so he can show you that he has control and that he can do whatever he wants.

“Let me go!” You plead, but he doesn’t budge. 

“I don’t want to, not when I get to have you all alone after so long,” he hums, licking his lips and dragging his eyes all over your body. “I always liked it when you came over wearing that skirt of yours.”

You know this is what he wants. He wants you to be scared, he wants to haunt your dreams and not make you forget him because he knows that you obviously already had. You’re terrified but you try to gather whatever courage you have within you to fight back.

But it’s then that you hear footsteps, and a shadow appears behind Chi-won.

“She said to let her go.”

Jungkook’s voice is hard, tense, angry. But there’s control, and you can tell that he’s trying to hold himself back. He comes into view, the mix of worry and anger on his face helping to relieve your fear. 

But it doesn’t affect Chi-won, as he continues to hold onto your wrist. Your strained face lets Jungkook know that you’re still in the man’s hold, prompting him to walk closer and repeat his words.

“I said to let her go,” he demands. “Do it. Because we both know there are so many things I can do to you and smashing your face is just one of them.”

Jungkook rolls up his sleeves and clenches his fists. He doesn’t think it’s enough to scare the man who’s holding you hostage but he thinks it’s enough to show that he’s indeed willing to throw a punch if he has to. He’d pull the man away but he doesn’t want you to get hurt. He’d beat the daylights out of this asshole but he doesn’t want you to witness that. You’re terrified already as it is; anything more might just break you further. 

So Jungkook keeps his gaze on the man, hoping the threat would work somehow.

It does, as the man lets you go then raises his arms mockingly, as if to surrender. You step away immediately, finding your way towards Jungkook. Chi-won looks at the man next to you from head-to-toe, his attempt at intimidation. 

“The boss, I assume?” Chi-won scoffs. “That’s cheap, even for you.”

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that,” Jungkook fumes, trying his hardest to keep himself together and not make this worse. 

“Women who are that lonely and that desperate for sex would do anything and use anyone to get what they want and feel better about themselves,” Chi-won shrugs. “I’m just saying I’m not surprised.”

The insult is unfounded. You know at this point, he’s just trying to say anything to provoke Jungkook and put you down in the process. Somehow you’ve learned how to deal with men like this.

“Yeah, I was so desperate that I ended up settling for a low-life like you,” you scoff, hoping the brave facade holds up. “You weren’t even that good. I could only fake it for so long.”

And this is what does it for him, as Chi-won’s face distorts in anger, and while you know your words provoked him, you wanted to show that you could regain your control, and he’s the one who now breaks because of it.

“Fucking slut,” he yells, charging towards you.

But Jungkook charges back, pushing Chi-won towards the wall and making sure he stays there. The anger on Jungkook’s face is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, yet despite this side of him that you’re now witnessing, you can’t help but feel emotional at his presence. If it wasn’t for him, you don’t know what would’ve happened; you don’t know where you’d pull the strength to stand up for yourself.

“You say anything else and I swear, getting fired is gonna be the least of your worries,” Jungkook huffs. “Because this boss knows your manager. This boss knows the police chief at the station not far away. You hurt her and you’re gonna pay for this. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Chi-won slowly realizes that those aren’t empty words, as he visibly starts to look worried. There’s not much he can do now. You doubt he can overpower Jungkook despite his size. You also know Chi-won doesn’t have much, and losing his job could make him lose everything. And that scares you, too.

“Jungkook, it’s okay. Just let him go,” you plead, tugging his arm to pull him away. You know how much worse it could get if anything else happens. You know that Jungkook is very much capable of inflicting physical pain, and you don’t want blood on his hands because of you. “Let’s just go back inside.”

Jungkook looks at you, the fear clearly still evident - your eyes are glassy and empty, your hand on his arm is shaking, and your voice is cracking. Whatever courage you had at answering back earlier is slowly dissipating, and all Jungkook wants is to get you away from all this. 

“I’m fine, Jungkook. He’s just angry and I don’t blame him,” you insist. 

All lies, really. You wish the worst for Chi-won, but you know it won’t do you nor Jungkook any good if you both go down this path. 

Your eyes plead for him to take your lead this time and he sees it, he sees you, and you see his tiniest of nods before turning to Chi-won.

“Get out of here and call it a night before I do anything else to you.”

Chi-won, who’s clearly still furious, starts walking away. But in his effort to regain the control you took from him, he turns to you before heading back inside. 

“You’re really fucking good at that, you know?” He says to you. “Fuck the man you know wants you and then just drop him when you get bored or when you find the next guy who can pleasure you without the commitment you obviously desperately want. You’ll always be miserable whatever you do.”

You will the tears not to fall as the words hit you where it hurts. They’re things you’ve heard not long ago, just in a different variation, and by another man who had the same fate as Chi-won - left by you because you couldn’t give them what they wanted. Maybe you’re too honest when you’re drunk, maybe that’s when the yearning for something meaningful and more permanent comes out, and maybe that’s when they thought they could be what you wanted. 

But you’ve always known from the beginning that they couldn’t give you what you desired, and you always hoped you’d cut the cord before they started to want more. Turns out your timing is just as bad as your judgment. 

You let them have the final say, though. And then you let them walk away. You feel like it’s climactic for them, liberating even, to be able to tell the person who hurt them that she’s selfish and she doesn’t deserve happiness. You suppose it just proves that they didn’t really feel much; perhaps your read on people isn’t that terrible after all. 

You manage to rein all the emotions in and look at Jungkook who remains standing next to you. His fist is still clenched and you see the anger in his eyes. You’ve never seen him like this, not even when Hajoon threatened him. This is the first time you thought he could really hurt someone, and he would’ve done it on your defense. 

“We should go back to dinner,” you finally say. “They’re probably wondering where we are.”

Jungkook turns to you, the fear still evident in your eyes but he can see you trying, he can see you try to be brave and bury all that pain in for his sake. 

“I’m not letting you go back in there,” he responds, his tone hard and firm. “I’m not letting you anywhere near that man again.”

You don’t insist this time. You don’t want to be anywhere near Chi-won, either. So you just nod and wait for Mr. Ri to arrive after he was called to come to you with the car. Jungkook is about to instruct the older man to go inside and send his apologies to the organizers but you tell Jungkook it should be him. You manage to convince him to properly send them off and pay the bill and while initially unwilling, he finally goes, giving Mr. Ri strict orders not to leave you alone.

Mr. Ri breaks at the pained look on your face - an uncommon sight for him, and one that hurts him. It’s not the first time though,  and that just makes it worse. 

“Stay strong, okay?” He says, despite not knowing what happened. “You have people around to protect you, to keep you safe. You know that.”

You nod in acknowledgement, as you’re unable to get any word out. But you see the pain in his eyes, too, and for all the years that you’ve known him, the comfort in them always comes. 

Jungkook returns and informs you that the organizers will be leaving soon. He asks you if it’s okay if he drives you home and you say that it is. Even if he’s just seen you be humiliated, somehow it’s him you want to be with you as you try to process what happened. You know it’ll ease his mind as well, and you don’t want him to worry any more than he already is. 

You both say goodbye to Mr. Ri and then enter the car, with you feeling a little odd to be sitting in the passenger seat with Jungkook next to you. But you settle in, your body moving on its own; it feels quite foreign to you, with your mind in a haze and your nails engraving their marks on your palms, as if by some miracle it could erase what happened tonight from your memory. 

But you doubt anything would.

“His shift ends soon and I don’t want to take you home right away, just in case he follows,” Jungkook says. 

You look at him questioningly and he immediately knows what you’re thinking. 

“I know the manager and I asked him,” he explains as he starts driving away. “But don’t worry, I didn’t say anything. And that bastard didn’t see me. He avoided me and stayed in the kitchen the whole time I was there, as if he wasn’t serving our table the whole evening. I should’ve picked up that he was trying to get near you. I… I’m sorry I didn’t get to you in time.”

You still came for me, you want to say. It’s the thought that keeps swimming in your mind. You don’t know how long you were gone for but he could’ve called; he chose to go out and look for you instead. 

It’s as if he knows what you’re thinking, as he says that he noticed you were away longer than he expected. 

“It just felt odd. You would’ve messaged me if something was up,” he reasons. “I guess I noticed earlier that he kept coming to our table for no reason but I didn’t pay it any mind. But then another server brought the dessert. I asked where he was and the guy said he went outside without any explanation, and I just had a weird feeling. I should’ve come sooner, ___.”

You want to say that he doesn’t have to apologize, that things could’ve been worse if he hadn’t come, that you owe him your life that he did but you’re feeling too much to even manage a word out. 

At the stoplight, he turns to you and sees the half-moons embedded on your skin. He sees the glassy eyes and the trembling lips. He wants nothing more than to shield you from all this, to take you somewhere where you’re safe and where no one can hurt you. He didn’t think that seeing you like this would make him feel so powerless, because much as he can make that man’s life miserable if you let him, what he can’t do is take your pain away. What he doesn’t know how to do is comfort you.

“I’ll drive you around first, is that okay?” 

You nod, turning to your right to watch the city pass you by. It’s a breeze driving down the bridge as lights illuminate the Han River. The moon’s reflected on it, too, but you don’t feel any joy nor calmness. All you feel is this heavy burden of disgust and fear and shame and loneliness and anger. 

You quickly wipe the tear that falls, hoping that Jungkook doesn’t see. Your eyes remain glued outside, and you watch the buildings slowly disappear, replaced by little cafes and stores closing shop. It’s a familiar street, one you’ve passed by on some mornings, and you appreciate the familiarity. 

The car stops but you don’t look away from the window, afraid that seeing the worry on Jungkook’s face will make you break down. 

“We’re at a neighborhood park near your place,” he says. “I’ll just be outside, just in case you need time alone. You can put the radio on blast. You can honk if you need me, or you can come out if you want to. I’m just here.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond. He just exits the car and walks towards the bench that overlooks the playground. You put the music on loudly, and perhaps just as he expected you to do, you cry. And you cry hard. 

You shut your eyes from the pain. It forces you to relive that moment but you do your best to crumple it like paper and then burn it from your memory. You know the burned pieces and the smoke will stay - an alley will trigger you, the scent of cooking oil and cheap cologne will make you gag. It’s how it is with painful memories - they burn you but there’s not much you can do to put out the fire. And when it’s gone, it’s not over. The scars remind you it happened. And then they urge you to make sure it doesn’t happen again. 

You don’t know how long it takes for you to cry out all the tears. It feels like they won’t end - they’re the words you couldn’t say earlier, and the words that would haunt you for longer. But they eventually stop falling, and you’re exhausted by the time they do. You have new crescents on your palms, too, and those may go away but you know they’re the only things that will. Everything else will be invisible, and that makes it a harder burden to carry.

Outside, Jungkook glances at the car to make sure you’re still there. He doesn’t think there’s any danger now; he doubts that man got to follow you here, too. But with what happened earlier, there’s this perpetual worry about anything that harms you, and he doesn’t want for there to be even a single second where you’re afraid, where you’re looking over your shoulder in fear, and where you think you’re everything that man said you are. 

He can try to keep you safe. He can try to lift you up. But when it’s about trying to forget, trying to move on, he knows there’s not much he can do. He knows a bit about painful experiences and memories that won't leave him. He’s done his best to hide those away, kept in the deepest nooks of his being that’s caused him to conceal parts of himself as well. It’s not easy to do but he does it; all these years later, he doesn’t know how not to.

But then there’s you and somehow, those parts of him that he’s kept hidden come out. Maybe it’s those pieces that will help comfort you, that will help protect you, that will help keep you safe. He’s not sure but if they are, maybe it’s not such a bad thing for them to resurface, if it means you won’t be scared or hurt or alone. 

His gaze flits back to the playground. He glances at your direction every few minutes. He wants to respect your privacy, at least as much as what his car and the radio on blast could give. He hopes that all the crying could help ease your pain somehow. He also hopes he’s one person who could. 

Jungkook hears the door open and he turns to see you slowly get out. He remains in his seat and waits to see where you go. A minute later, you’re sitting on the bench next to him, your breathing slowed down now, and your hands are less shaky than earlier. Your eyes are still glassy, and he wishes he could wipe the tears away should they fall, but he knows it’s not something he can do.

Both of you sit in silence as you watch the moon dance over the field of grass. It’s peaceful here at this time of the night. It’s not a place you expected him to take you but you’re glad that he did. 

You didn’t grow up going to parks because your mother rarely had time to take you; no one could accompany you either. When you moved to Busan during your pre-teen years, you felt you’d outgrown it even if Jimin and Soomin would invite you. There were always so many kids around and you didn’t know how to talk to them or to play with them so you always stayed in your own spot, near the tree where you could watch them run about. 

“I didn’t know where to take you but, uh, I loved playing in the playground when I was a kid,” Jungkook bursts through your thoughts. “It somehow always made me feel safe.”

“Did you like going to parks, too?” You ask, finally finding your voice, visibly surprising him.

“Not really. I wasn’t exactly fond of people even as a child,” he softly chuckles, earning him a small smile. “And well, my older brother liked to tease me in front of his friends when we’d play so I would ask to go late in the afternoon once the kids have left. My father picked up on it so he built a playground just for me in our backyard. It was really nice. I’d spend all day there when I was younger.”

A little Jungkook coming down the slide, climbing up the rock wall, and playing in the seesaw looks so wholesome. You wonder if he squealed while on the swing like kids usually do. Maybe. It’s nice to imagine a version of him that’s joyful and free. You wonder when the last time he felt that way was.

You also wonder what has made him share something that feels so personal to him with you. You’re thinking maybe it’s to make you feel comfortable or to ease your nerves; maybe it’s to tell you that unlike Chi-won, he’s not there to threaten you. Maybe Jungkook wants to tell you that he’s someone you can trust, that despite what you are to each other, at this moment, he can be a friend.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you manage to say. “Thank you for coming to find me and keeping him away from me. He… he was someone I used to see and I ended things and I thought we were okay. I hadn’t seen him in a while and—”

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” he says softly. “I understand that it’s difficult and reliving it might just make you more scared and upset.“

“But I… I need to say it, at least just this once,” you stammer. “Just so it won’t stay in my head like some made-up reality until I’m convinced it didn’t really happen. Because it did.”

He turns to you, his eyes the most sympathetic you’ve seen them, and he nods.

So you tell him - how Chi-won kept staring at you as you ate, how he pulled you towards him and then caged you against the wall.

“He was too close and I could… smell him, as if he wanted me to remember his scent, and that he didn’t want me to ever forget it,” you say.

Your tears fall slowly this time. Your voice cracks and your nails dig into your skin again. It feels so heavy, that even as you try to expend the negative energy, it’s still there. As if the memory itself is tangible, like a sack of sand filling you from inside and it makes you unable to breathe. 

But the sight of Jungkook’s trembling hands catches your attention, and you turn to him - his jaws tight and his eyes, tense and deep.

“I’m so angry for you,” he heaves, his fists clenching now. He still wants to wipe your tears but he also wants to go back to the restaurant and finally punch that man’s face. “You should file a case. You have all the grounds for that. I can get him fired and he can lose everything.”

“The law and society in general don’t favor us, Jungkook. I don’t have bruises or anything; that’s what they look for. They think that all harm done only leaves visible marks,” you sigh, knowing that there’s not much you can do. “There’s no other witness but you and that itself… might not look good. If I do file a case, he’ll just bring up our past, my past, and taint my reputation. That’ll just ruin me and everything I worked hard for will be for nothing.”

“But you can’t just let him get away with this, ___,” he insists, feeling unusually emotional now. “He hurt you. And what if he does it again? Telling the police can keep him away. I’ll make sure of that.”

The urgency in his voice is something new to you. But you also know he’s right. Jungkook’s family has connections that run deep. He can very well seek revenge for you for all he wants but he wants your permission, he wants to know it’s what you want.

“I… I can’t risk it,” you say. “If by some miracle the case is successful, he’ll just spend a few months in jail or do community service then he’ll be out. He would lose more and I would be the cause of all that. And what if he tries to get revenge? How do I win?”

At his silence, you continue. “That’s right, I can’t.”

“But… don’t you want to fight?” He asks, almost desperately. His tone is low, as if he’s trying to convince himself that fighting back is the answer. “Don’t you want to make sure that he won’t do it again to you?”

“I do, but what if I lose everything in the process, what then?” You counter. “I… I’m not strong enough for that, Jungkook. That’s not a battle I can fight, not when I’m alone here. Not when I’m also just trying to get by.”

You look back at his eyes, helpless and apologetic now, and at this time, this companionship is what you need. It’s as if he’s telling you with them that you may think you’re on your own but you aren’t. Even as you shiver from within, you don’t feel so alone with him next to you.

“I… I was seeing him for a year but things weren’t serious. He probably just wanted to scare me, to assert control because he lacks it in other aspects of his life. Cowards do that, I guess,” you shrug, trying to reason to yourself how someone you knew fairly well could do something like that to you. 

People change, you suppose. Or maybe he’s always been like that; it takes a while sometimes for the demons to come out. 

“But cowards don’t have a right to do that,” Jungkook reasons. “They don’t deserve to just walk away and not deal with the consequences.”

“They don’t. But I don’t deserve to suffer more,” you point out. “The things he said… that’s probably enough revenge on his end, I guess. If he wanted to hurt me, well then, he did.”

There’s an emptiness in your eyes that Jungkook sees. There’s a tinge of submission, as if you accept the pain even if you don’t think you deserve it. And maybe that’s why you’re choosing to fight this battle this way. We can’t do anything about how people hurt us, but we choose how much more we let them do it. 

“Prove him wrong, then,” Jungkook says. “He doesn’t get to tell you that you’ll be miserable your whole life. So chase what makes you happy. And let yourself be loved.”

It’s permission that he doesn’t have a right to grant, but he supposes that if there’s any way you can defeat that man’s voice in your head, it’s by searching for the things you want and fighting to keep them. 

“One day,” you manage to smile at him. “I’ll do those one day.”

It’s like a promise you’re making to him just as you make it to yourself. Jungkook can’t think right now what that would mean. Finding your happiness could lead you anywhere; it sure could lead you away from him. 

“So what happens now?” He asks, hoping there’s a way he could help you get through this.

“I continue living my life and not let this define me,” you shrug, half believing in the power of just pushing through it. “I’ll probably be anxious and paranoid for a while but this is what I can do for now. I’ll just be careful and… learn how to deal with all this one day at a time, I guess.”

“And I’ll have Mr. Ri drive you home every night, at least for these next few weeks. Do you need to move houses?”

“Chi-won doesn’t actually know where I live. I never let him come over. I don’t really like having people in my house.”

Jungkook hums to himself. He isn’t that different from you, it seems. But he takes your word for it, not wanting to impose. There are so many things he wants to do, like ruin that man’s life because things like that can’t go unpunished but he trusts you. At the end of the day, it’s your call, and he respects whatever you decide. He’ll just do what he can to protect you, even if he’ll be worried like hell from here on out, an emotion he’s slowly accepting, knowing what that implies. 

“I’m sorry you had to witness all that,” you say amidst the silence. “And that you have to deal with this now. I don’t… I don’t want you to think that I’m weak and that I don’t stand up for myself.”

“You know you have nothing to apologize for,” he shakes his head. “And not fighting back doesn’t make you weak. I guess staying right where you are is a way of fighting, too.”

“I have people around… somehow,” you comfort yourself. “I’m gonna be fine. I have to believe I will.”

Jungkook nods and manages a smile. At this point, he thinks all he can give you is support and encouragement. He’ll continue to do what he can to keep you safe without disregarding your requests, but staying right where he is with you might just be another way to do that.

“Do you want to pass by somewhere before heading home?” He asks, knowing it’s getting quite late. “A restaurant to grab a drink or something? You didn’t get to have dessert so maybe a cafe?”

“A convenience store is fine,” you smile, knowing the treats that would make you feel better. 

Jungkook chuckles, as it’s a place he didn’t really expect you’d want to go to after an experience like the one you just had. But it’s you and he should be used to you surprising him, so he nods and gestures towards the car. 

It takes five minutes for you to get there and he looks around and asks what you want to have. 

“A cup noodle,” you answer, walking towards the aisle where they’re shelved. “Do you want some? I mean, you eat these things, right?”

“Of course I do,” he scowls at you, picking up one himself. “I just… don’t eat it at a convenience store.”

“Because you don’t go to one?”

“I do. I’m not a spoiled brat who doesn’t know how to do ordinary people things.”

“You mean commoner things,” you raise an eyebrow. “Or plebeian activities. Or non-heir stuff.”

“Whatever. I won’t even defend myself to you,” he huffs, giving in because seeing you amused is a welcome sight. 

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you,” you teasingly smile. “I’m just… laughing at you in my mind.”

You walk towards another aisle and leave him with a smile he’s glad to be making now. He follows and watches you pick up a few more things before you head to the counter where he manages to bring out his card first and pay.

“That's all I can do,” he shrugs after you thank him. 

“You’re doing so much for me already,” you assure him. “Taking me somewhere so I could cry, making sure I get home safe… staying with me.”

“That’s not even enough to—” 

“You don’t know how to accept gratitude, do you?” You ask as you blow on your noodles. “I notice how you brush it off when someone thanks you.”

“Not used to hearing it, I guess,” he shrugs, not thinking it was something you’d pick up, although there’s no lie. 

It’s always been hard for him to say things - that he’s sorry, that he’s thankful, that it’s okay. You, of all people, are the one pointing that out.

“You should be. Because I’ll say it again.” You turn to him and meet his eyes. “Thank you, Jungkook. I thought I’d just go through this alone but I’m not. And that’s… that’s something I’m not used to.”

“You should be,” he repeats your words. “There are some things you shouldn’t be going through on your own. So if there’s anything else you need, you let me know, okay?”

There’s sincerity in his voice as he speaks. You’re used to the low or stern or commanding tone, not this soft and worried one. But it’s the comfort you didn’t know you needed. After spending all that time earlier crying and feeling afraid, being with Jungkook in this bright-lit convenience store is the unexpected warmth that you’re glad you let him give you.

“I will,” you smile. “You know, this is the longest I’ve spoken informally to you. It feels a little weird.”

He laughs as he gets to the same realization. But for him, it almost feels natural.

“It would be weirder if you spoke formally after all that,” he says. “Like I said, if it isn’t about work then I don’t mind.”

You hum in response, not wanting to dwell on the implication. You’re with him after-hours, at a convenience store - that he personally drove you to - where you’re both having cup noodles and soda. This ironically feels more intimate than being in bed with some guy.

You decide to have your dessert, which is really just chocopie, and you mentally curse Chi-won for making you miss the sweet dishes from dinner. But still, you know this one could easily cheer you up. You give one to Jungkook, and his amused tone catches your attention.

“Oh wow, I haven’t had one of these in years,” he says, eating it one bite. “Mother used to give this to me all the time when I was a kid because her best friend owned the company that makes them. There was a time I’d have it as dessert after every meal.”

“Seriously?” You giggle. “That is so weird. This is my favorite. My mom would always buy this for me. When she worked at a school in Busan, she would give it as a treat while I waited for her at the library. That would just always make my day.”

“Hmm, it’s a good snack,” he says, smiling as he takes another piece that you offer and recalls how he used to have this everyday. “So she’d pick you up at the library? Was that your favorite place at school?”

“Hmm, not really, but it reminded me of the one I used to go to,” you reply. “When we lived in Seoul when I was young, there was this family-run library for children in the neighborhood. It was very cozy, with lots of soft chairs and reading nooks on the walls. There were these huge stuffed toys that you could lie on while reading so it felt like someone was hugging you. It had warm lights, not like those usual bright ones. There was this mural of the characters from the books they had,” you narrate, smiling as you remember the days you spent there. 

“Mom would pick me up from school during her lunch break then drop me off at the library where her friend volunteered at and I’d wait until she got off work. When we moved to Busan, I kept looking for it. The one at the school wasn’t the same so I didn’t enjoy it as much, but there was nowhere else to go. Eventually I just got used to it, but the chocopie always made the wait worth it.”

It’s the most you’ve ever told him about yourself and you’re surprised at how easy it was for you to do that. He did tell you a little bit about his childhood earlier though, and you’d like to think it’s your way of returning that kind of vulnerability; a story for a story, a piece of your childhood for a snapshot of his.

You look at him and the small smile on his face. Perhaps he’s thinking the same.

“So you like reading books, then?”

“Not really, actually,” you say, earning you a confused look. “I read all the picture books they had. Those are what I liked. And they had these coloring books and paper dolls and I’d spend hours just working on those. Being there made me feel safe, too; it was like my playground, you know?”

“It’s good you had that, then. Do you still visit that place? The one in your old neighborhood?”

“It shut down years ago, sometime before I returned to Seoul to work,” you sigh. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to it. The couple who ran it passed away and no one was interested in continuing it because it wasn’t profitable. But the community center nearby has a small library and I go there sometimes, when I’m really upset.”

“And read picture books?” He chuckles.

“Yes, actually,” you smile. “Memories are powerful and we need to let the good ones win. My childhood wasn’t the greatest but I felt like I was in a different world whenever I was in a library so being in one, even as a grown up, reminds me that there are still places where I’m welcome, where I can feel safe, you know? It reminds me that the world hasn’t completely turned dark. I’ve got to hold onto those to not lose myself.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I… I don’t think I’ve been to a playground in years before today. Other than the one that father built in the backyard at least. And I rarely even see it because I’m rarely there. I guess I just…. Let myself get lost.”

“Well, I hope going to one earlier somehow made you find yourself. Or at least reminded you of those good old days, the days when you felt free and safe and happy.”

Jungkook thinks about what he’d felt earlier, that much as being in a playground again brought him back in time, all he kept thinking about was you - alone in that car while you let all your emotions out. He wanted to comfort you but he didn’t know how, and he thinks that maybe it isn’t about finding himself but learning what he’s capable of, and that after all these years, maybe he’s still capable of caring for another person, and maybe that person is you.

“It did,” he hums, meeting your eyes. 

There’s more light in them this time and he wishes it would stay this way. He’d seen you cry months ago and it wasn’t a good feeling, especially because you’d done so because of him. This time, he feels powerless, and he doesn’t know which is worse.

He gets to be with you now though. Perhaps that’s the difference. 

You start cleaning up and it’s his signal for both of you to head out. 

It takes him ten minutes to drive to your place and a small part of you doesn’t want to leave. Even in the silence, you felt calm, something that you hadn’t expected to feel around him, considering his default tense disposition and usual detachment. But there’s something about his presence, about him just being there - he’s not trying too hard to comfort you, he’s not imposing, he’s also not invalidating your feelings. What matters is you’re not alone, and other than him making that effort, it’s also about you, allowing him to do that, something you don’t always do as well.

“Thank you again,” you say once the car has stopped. 

He nods in acknowledgment then turns to you. “It might be best if you take a leave tomorrow, and by that I mean staying home for safety reasons.”

A day to just process everything isn’t such a bad idea, so you agree. 

“If it’s not too much for your friends, maybe they could drive up here so they can be with you. Having people around you that you trust might help in making you feel better.”

“I’ll ask them. I don’t want them to worry but I do need them. So thanks, Jungkook. I appreciate it.”

You exit the car and turn around to wave him goodbye. He smiles as you do, and it’s a sight that helps you sleep later that night - after the long bath and another crying session, after the phone call with your friends who promised to be here in the morning, after the time you spend just hugging your pillow, hoping that you’d stop being scared.

But thinking of Jungkook now makes you feel better and you realize the change again - thinking about him now makes you a little braver. 

You spend that weekend wrapped up in your best friends’ arms. They arrived on Friday morning with some pork bone soup and seafood that they cooked for lunch and dinner. In the middle of the day, Jungkook texted you and asked how you were doing, and you couldn’t hide the smile on your face, which prompted a conversation about your little crush that you didn’t expect to get tense, with Jimin stating that while Jungkook did help you, being attracted to your boss is complicated and would lead to heartbreak. 

You insisted that it was harmless - a half lie, as you hadn’t thought much about it in that sense - and that it’s not something you plan on nurturing. You’re gonna leave the company one day anyway, and you won’t have to deal with him after.

The succeeding days were spent just at home, with you feeling lighter, until Sunday evening when they had to leave, and you felt a little lonely again. 

You try to let that feeling go once you enter Jungkook’s penthouse on Monday morning, knowing that with a day off, you’ll have a lot to make up for and you can’t let anything distract you from your tasks.

That includes the man himself, as he exits his home gym in sweatpants and a dri-fit shirt, the sweat sticking to his body that’s got his chest accentuated. His hair is damp and he’s panting; it’s not exactly the sight you wanted to be greeted with, considering all the thoughts in your head these past few days. You’re reminded that just last week, you’d tried to keep your distance and now, he’s making it incredibly hard for you to do that.

“Hey, how do you feel?” He asks as he takes the glass of water you set for him. “Did you get proper rest?”

“Yes, I did, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. 

“Hmm, we’re back to that again, huh?”

It takes you a while but you pick up that he’s referring to the formalities.

“I’m back on the clock, sir,” you point out. “You are my boss and I need to address you accordingly.”

It’s not a reminder he wanted, given how he’s been worried sick about you since Thursday night. Even an hour of boxing after he got home that evening couldn’t rid him of his anger. He wished he’d noticed how uncomfortable you were at the restaurant; he’s been paying attention to you anyway but he just got so caught up with impressing the festival organizers that he missed out on the signs. If he’d noticed, he would’ve gotten to you earlier and things wouldn’t have escalated. 

He had to control himself from punching that man’s face the moment he saw how close he was to you. Your plea of letting him go was the only thing that kept Jungkook from ruining that man’s life because he really could. He doesn’t think he’ll ever understand it - people like that need to be punished, but it’s people like you who remind him that fighting takes different forms, and you’re the only one who can define what that means. 

But it also doesn’t mean that he can’t get angry for you and he’ll probably feel that for a while. Knowing how you are, he knows you wouldn’t want him to pity you either, so he’ll be what he can be, and that’s someone whom you feel safe around. Regardless, maybe the reminder of your roles in each other’s lives is necessary; it’s what he needs to keep himself from doing more, or wanting to be more.

Jungkook finally acknowledges your statement with a nod and then heads to the bathroom for his shower. Shortly after, you walk towards his closet and prepare his outfits for the week. He meets you in the dining room once he’s dressed, and like clockwork, you fix his tie and his suit.

The effect is minimal but somehow, you’ve found comfort in the routine. What once was a tense and nerve-wracking act is now something automatic and essential for you. In a way, it reinforces your place in his life, but the short distance reminds you that he may be faraway or detached in some aspects but physically, he’s so close. It’s a double-edged sword, really. Some days it’s good, some days it isn’t. Today, it’s the former, and as you look up and meet his eyes, the softness in them says he thinks the same.

You go over your usual with him while munching on some pastries that Mr. Ri was ordered to buy and bring up. The ride to the office is filled with discussions on the upcoming year-end events. When you arrive, you attend two straight meetings before having another one over lunch. You accompany Jungkook to a store opening located in one of their properties after that and it’s 4PM by the time you’re able to sit on your desk for more than 30 seconds. You’ve got two hours to finish what you can today but you find yourself spacing out every few minutes.

Perhaps it’s because it’s the first time since Friday that you’re on your own. Your best friends made sure not to leave you by yourself for those three days - Soomin held you while you slept and silently cried in her arms, and Jimin hugged you for much of the day. Their affection was what you badly needed, and now that you’re without it, somehow you feel incomplete and anxious and somewhat unstable. 

Scenes are hazy in your mind. You’re at least thankful they’re not vivid anymore unlike a few nights ago, but the dim lights and the stench of the alley come to you without warning, and you suddenly freeze in panic. Your fingers tremble as you try to type away, your eyes unblinking as the tears coat them, and you feel sick to your stomach that you want to just be buried in the covers at this moment.

The door opening causes you to jerk in your seat and Jungkook stops mid-sentence to walk over to you. 

“Hey, ___. You can go home,” he says. “It’s been a long day.”

“I… I don’t know if that’ll help,” you admit. “I don’t know if being alone is what I need.”

You go home to an empty apartment just like he does, he reminds himself. He knows what that’s like. It’s why he spends most weekends in the clubs where it’s loud and crowded; those somehow mask the emptiness that can get tiring when all he has is himself. Being on your own is good sometimes; sometimes it also isn’t.

But Jungkook doesn’t know what he can offer you. His presence isn’t something exactly enticing nor comforting; he wouldn’t wanna be with him, too, if he was in a similar position.  

“Is there a way that your friends can spend another few days with you? What about your mother?” He asks. 

“They have lives back home,” you sigh. “I… I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to force it if you aren’t,” he insists. “I may not know much but I know enough that these things take time. I…”

I wish I could do more for you, he wants to say.

“I don’t have anything urgent for today,” he says instead. “You can clock off now and Mr. Ri and I can take you home.”

“That’s not necessary,” you say immediately. 

“I insist,” he replies. “At least for the next few days until we’re sure that you’re not in danger.”

You nod, not having the energy to reason with him. At least you don’t have to think about how to commute home without risking being too close to strangers. 

You pack your things and get in the car, with Jungkook letting you bask in the mellow sounds of the radio while he doodles on his leather notebook. You’re tempted to ask him what he’s drawing just to add some more noise but you decide against it, choosing instead to close your eyes and force unpleasant images away from your mind so you can train yourself to do it this time.

It works. Except, it’s the smile of the man next to you that you see, and when you open your eyes, it’s the same thing that greets you. 

He chuckles when you look around and realize that you’re home.

“I was trying to wake you but you wouldn’t budge,” he explains. “Are you just tired or you haven’t been sleeping well?”

“Oh, I just kept waking up last night. I guess that’s why. I’m sorry for making you wait.”

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “Just try to get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You nod and exit the car, feeling out of sorts even as you enter your apartment and know you’re safe inside. You nibble on some leftover pizza and try to entertain yourself with the variety shows on TV but you end up spacing out. You curl in bed, trying as much to feel comfort from your pillow that lays stiff next to you. 

You’re not big on physical affection, and most days you’re glad you aren’t because you don’t get any of it anyway, but tonight, it’s what you need. Tonight, you just want that warmth, you want a body to curl into and arms to pull you close. You want hands to caress you and soft lips to plant kisses on the places that hurt. You want to hear soft laughter and random musings and plans for the next day.

The vision ends when you realize that you haven’t experienced much of that before. There were moments during the months you spent with the men you’ve dated, but the feeling of safety was lacking, the warmth wasn’t warm enough, and the desire wasn’t overwhelming. You realize that it wasn’t intimacy you feared; losing it or finding out it wasn’t enough is what you were afraid of, and it’s why you always pulled away. No one ever seemed worth it to try or to stay a little longer for. 

You sigh to yourself as you will the tears not to fall. The loneliness can get to you sometimes, especially on days when there’s a kind of pain that’s hard to talk about and all you need is comfortable silence and understanding without words. But you try to push through. You’ve been on your own for so long anyway. Even when you had someone, you still came home to an empty apartment and you still felt like it was enough when it was just you around. 

You’re unsure if the desire for something more is just because of what you experienced, if the forced closeness and Chi-won’s burning touch hurt you too much or if you’ve been wanting that intimacy all along. Or if someone’s made you realize that you’re ready for it, that it’s actually worth it. 

You manage to fall asleep and drag yourself off the bed to head to Jungkook’s apartment the next day. You drop him off at a restaurant for a breakfast meeting before going to the office where you get to work. It’s a busy day that has you meeting with different departments and coordinating with the organizing teams for the upcoming end-of-year events. 

It’s mid-afternoon when you decide to go to the outdoor garden just right off the elevators, surprised to find Jungkook standing by the railings. Dressed in a dark gray suit, he’s got his hands in his pockets while he looks out at the busy streets, and you wonder what goes on in his mind when he looks at views like this.

The sound of the door closing catches his attention, and he turns around, surprised as well to see you here.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Yes, I just needed a breather.”

“Am I giving you too much work again?” He shakes his head, finding humor in it now after you pointed out one time how he once gave you so many things to do.

“It’s part of the job, Mr. Jeon. I’ve accepted that now,” you giggle, walking towards where he is then standing some feet away. “But it’s been a busy day and I just needed some air.”

“You can also take a longer break if that’s what you need.”

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “The busyness helps. I’ll get tired and hopefully fall asleep easily and then do it all again tomorrow and the next day.”

It’s a strategy Jungkook knows well because it’s something he does. Being a perfectionist helps because then, he can work himself to the bone without realizing it until he’s entered his apartment. One glass of whiskey and then he’s falling asleep on the couch. 

Weekends are tough, which is why partying and hooking up is his go-to. His best friends have asked him a few times what he’s striving towards, what he’s looking forward to and he couldn’t answer. At one point he stopped wondering, but now he wonders about you.

“What do you look forward to, then?” He asks. 

“Vacation, I guess,” you shrug. “I get to be with my friends and family but then that flies too quickly then I’m back to this routine. So maybe… I look forward to the day when I start savoring the moment, when I start enjoying what’s in front of me, when I start… feeling less alone.”

The last words come out subconsciously, prompting you to turn away out of shame. It’s not an easy thing to admit. You wanted this anyway. You chose to leave home to pay back a debt and then decided to stay because you wanted to prove yourself. You chose to not commit to anyone because the pain of loneliness is much easier to bear than the pain of losing someone. This is on you, and you deal with the consequences everyday. 

Jungkook doesn’t look confused nor curious. There’s a look in his eyes that you catch before his gaze returns to the streets below. It’s understanding; you realize he knows exactly what you’re talking about. And perhaps he’s on the same boat - letting life just pass him by despite the craziness of it all, perhaps wondering when he’ll stop to smell the roses or watch the sunset or listen to the birds. Maybe like you, he’s wondering when he’ll get to do those with a hand to hold and a body to curl into.

The silence is cut short when you’re alerted that Jungkook’s meeting with the Arts Center project teams starts in 15 minutes. You remind him about it then you both head out and go to your desks to prepare. You’re seated on your chair when you look inside his room, meeting his eyes as he looks outside towards you. There’s a small smile on his face that gives you comfort. It’s soft and assuring, and it’s definitely what you need. 

Maybe you can start with this, you think, as he nods at you then meets you at your desk to walk towards the conference room. Maybe these are the things you can start savoring before the day comes that you have to leave this place - these moments of quiet assurance, of understanding, of subtle comfort that tells you that despite the walls between you, he’ll be looking out for you even from afar.

The weeks fly by like a blur. 

The Thursday after the incident, Jungkook informed you that he got word from the restaurant manager that Chi-won returned to his home in Mokpo to stay with his parents. The next day, you took the train home to Daegu to be with your mom. She hugged you that night as you cried to her, feeling the strength that she’s had all these years, knowing that you have to be just like her and that this time, you have to be strong for her and for yourself. 

Spending time with her, Min-woo, and the girls was rejuvenating, and they promised to visit you in Seoul more regularly. They were in your apartment two weekends after, and it truly felt like you’ve become the family you’ve always wanted to have.

Work continued to be hectic as the year-end activities approached. The busyness definitely helped in moving past what you experienced, allowing you to detach from the memories. You gained the strength to keep fighting the way you wanted, and the people around you continued to be supportive and respectful.

Despite all that went on, you managed in organizing the events while also attending to some that Jungkook was invited to. 

The first one was organized by the VP’s Office for the partners of projects that it managed, with the other departments attending as well. It was well-organized, and CEO Jeon himself expressed his satisfaction with how the event came together. Jungkook’s speech was impressive. He ran it with you multiple times and he was able to shake off the anxiety by the time he got to the stage. His eloquence enraptured you; so did the way he looked in another Kim Taehyung-customized textured black suit that had you constantly internally smacking yourself because of all the times that Yoongi caught you staring. You were in full denial about your little crush but knowing your friend, he probably had you figured out, and he’d been kind enough not to push it.

The next event was a big one, as the company hosts an annual fellowship dinner for all its partners, which you had a big role in organizing. A few of you were housed in the serviced apartment building near the office leading up to it, as per Jungkook’s instructions, given that he didn’t want any of you commuting or driving home late at night. You remember how he’d said that he couldn’t risk any of his staff’s safety so casually, and you didn’t think he could be more attractive than that moment. Until, of course, when he showed up in his charcoal suit and parted hair, confidently entertaining the guests and delivering another impressive message. You snuck in a few looks later in the evening as he intently watched a ballad performer on stage, his legs crossed as he drank the flute of champagne and licked the remnants of it on his lips, causing your throat to dry up and promise yourself that you’ll get rid of this crush soon enough.

It doesn’t happen, as the final event of the year rolls around. The fellowship dinner this time is with all the staff, including some from the Southeast Asian office. Jungkook goes for a cream-colored suit this time, a light and clean look that makes him look fresh yet sophisticated. You managed to be professional every time he called for you, and you suppose it’s all the stress getting to you, but being near him made you a little anxious - there was a bit of giddiness that you didn’t want to show, but he somehow also calmed you down. The fact that he kept offering you water and making sure you had something to eat didn’t help. You blurted out that you didn’t expect him to be as thoughtful as he was, and when he said that neither did he but that you brought out that side of him after the incident at the restaurant, you had to keep your cool and act unbothered. He looked shy after, and you suppose that he didn’t mean to say it. But he did, and the words kept you up for the nights after.

You know you’re entering prohibited territory at this point and you wish there’s a way out before you get deep into the woods. You let Soomin and Jimin remind you everyday that you can’t nurture the crush, that the attraction can’t be anything more, that there are serious implications if you did, and that you’re gonna have to get over this as soon as possible. It’s Yoongi who tells you to not overthink it, that the more you force yourself out, the harder it actually becomes. 

“There are things you just let happen,” he’d said. “That’s how they eventually fall away.”

“That’s how they get worse, too,” you responded. 

“They could go either way, but resisting often ends up hurting more.”

You decide to just let the wave take you along while you train yourself to savor the moments for what they are without giving meaning to them. A smile is just a smile, a look is just a look. You know you’ll be without them one day. Just a few more months until you leave the company, and you won’t have a reason to be around Jungkook anymore. At least before then, you can hold onto whatever memories you retain, and you can learn to look back at them with gratitude that during your hardest moments, he made you feel safe.

It’s now towards the end of December and it’s the Tuesday before Jungkook is set to leave for his three-week vacation tomorrow. He called for an early dinner with the team at his new favorite Italian restaurant, wanting to properly say goodbye before you’ll all be without him for a while.

“Savor it, it won't last long,” he teases. “The holidays will be over soon and then I’ll be back before you know it. So enjoy this time that I’m not around.”

“What do you mean, sir? We’ll obviously miss you!” Do-hyun exclaims. “Mostly the once-in-a-blue-moon lunch and dinner treats and the occasional funny remarks but yeah, we’ll definitely feel your absence around.”

Her exaggerated smile lets everyone know she’s teasing, even if you know deep down, she’s telling the truth. Jungkook’s come around these past months, spending a bit of time with each team member and learning their strengths and weaknesses, mentoring the young ones, and sending pastries or dessert during the most hectic days. He’s still serious most of the time and doesn’t join the occasional post-work dinner that Do-hyun guilt trips you into going. There’s always so much to do and his perfectionism has rubbed off on everyone else, but he has his moments. And you know the team appreciates his efforts, too. 

“We’ll see. Maybe when I come back you guys will want another boss or something,” he baits.

“That was like, the first two months of you in your role, Mr. Jeon, but we’re over it,” Do-hyun admits, causing Manager Lee to panic.

He glares at her the way Chin-sun does, but you sit there giggling. Jungkook’s chuckling, too, unable to hide his amusement at the young one’s bluntness. 

She apologizes but Jungkook brushes it off, saying those first months weren’t his best. You don’t miss the way he looks at you, though, and you’ve trained yourself to not think too much about it, the way you’ve trained yourself these past weeks to just accept his smiles and glances as they are. 

“I also took you all here to thank you for this past half-year,” Jungkook continues. “It was tough. I was tough. And it was a big adjustment for everyone but you all showed how good you are as individuals and as a team and I… I needed that.”

“You led us very well, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee assures him. “And tough love works sometimes.”

“I suppose it does, and it goes both ways,” Jungkook replies. “And so to thank you, I got you all a little Christmas gift, something you can enjoy when you go on your respective breaks.”

At his words, you distribute the letter envelopes to the team and they open them up, gasping in surprise and in obvious delight. 

Jungkook instructed you last week to purchase two vouchers at a luxurious spa for each staff member, hoping that a bit of relaxation can help you all. You were speechless when he said which specific package he wanted, and even if you know the price is just change for him, it was still more than you expected.

“A body scrub, massage, facial, and high tea, on top of the use of their super fancy amenities?” Do-hyun enumerates, her eyes widening in awe. “That’s a full day of being luxurious and feeling rich! Mr. Jeon, this is amazing! I’m totally going by myself and going twice!”

You laugh at her antics, not surprised she’d go that route.

“This is so timely, sir,” Manager Lee says. “My wife and I are celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary next month. This is gonna be a good date.”

“And it’s my birthday in a few weeks,” Chin-sun adds. “This would be so lovely to do with my husband.”

“My girlfriend and I fought so I think she’ll forgive me after I take her with me,” Yohan says, earning him a few laughs.

“What about you, ___? Inviting anyone special?” Do-hyun asks.

“Yes, my mom,” you answer. “She’s visiting next week, then we’ll go home to Daegu for the holidays. I’m sure she’d love this.”

“Ugh, of course. Parents come first,” she sighs.

You laugh her comment and turn to Jungkook, thanking him again for the gift. He thanks you for organizing them, too, and the dinner proceeds with candid spa stories and what you’re all doing for the holidays. 

Everyone heads home from the restaurant except for you and Jungkook who return to the office to run through last minute instructions and reminders before he flies in the morning. 

You’ve got over a week before your own vacation starts  where you’ll spend a few days in Wando, Min-woo’s hometown, but that also means needing to get a lot done before that, and then returning to backlogs after but you’ll worry about that next year. Right now, you’ve got documents that need Jungkook’s signatures and some memos you need him to approve. 

It’s another hour until you finish, even if a big part of you doesn’t want him to go just yet. Three weeks feels so long when seeing him five times a week for 12 hours was your everyday these past six months. It’s gonna feel a little odd not having your morning routines and car rides. You remind yourself that you’re gonna have to start getting used to that, given that you’re gonna be letting it all go soon enough. Still, it doesn’t mean you won’t miss it. It doesn’t mean you won’t miss him. 

“Have you packed everything, Mr. Jeon? Do you have enough coats? You can get pretty cold. What about all your documents? Did you—”

“Yes, I have,” he chuckles, finding it endearing how you’re speaking too fast and making sure he’s got everything ready. 

It’s not your job since this is a personal trip but he supposes that lines have blurred a while back, and he won’t deny that he’s enjoying this bit, especially seeing you worry. He wonders if you’ll miss him, too, but he won’t risk asking you even just to tease.

“I’ve gone on trips before, ___. I think I’ll be fine.”

“Just making sure that things are okay. Because I’m definitely gonna be the one you’ll call if they aren’t.”

“Fair point,” he laughs. “But everything’s good. Hoseok has been bugging me and making sure as well. He doesn’t want anything to mess up this trip.”

“It’s really sweet that he insisted you join him and A-yeong,” you gush. “They love their winter trips and I love seeing all their photos afterwards. I can just imagine how beautiful these ones are gonna be.”

“Well, he says he misses me,” Jungkook shrugs. “I was away for a long time and frankly, we’re more colleagues here than family, so he insisted I go with them. But I also think they just want a photographer because the sights are obviously gonna be gorgeous and I happen to take pretty good photos, you know?”

“I wouldn’t argue against that,” you laugh. “Surely being the third-wheel photographer has its perks?”

“We’ll see. I’ll definitely take advantage.”

“I’m sure they’ll spoil you somehow,” you say. “And you get to enjoy the landscape and the fresh air and the northern lights. Those are definitely gonna look good in pictures.”

“I’ll make sure to take them, then. And show you,” he smiles. “But yeah, I’m looking forward to a different scenery.”

“Where would you have gone if they didn’t ask you to come?”

“Not sure. Maybe to Brazil with Tae and Seokjin. Or somewhere like Hong Kong; I went there last year on my own. This time is gonna be different.”

“And you’ll have companions. That would be nice.”

“It would. That’s different, too, but I’m sure it will be good.”

You think about Jungkook spending his break on his own in a foreign country, navigating it by himself, meeting people, being left alone in his own thoughts. Maybe an occasional companion for the night. Or every night. Perhaps drinking on a rooftop bar to welcome the new year. But just him and no one else. You wonder how lonely that might feel, and you’re glad that at least this time, he can be around people who truly care about him. 

Jungkook thinks of how else he can keep you longer, knowing he’ll be without you for three weeks which for him, is an extremely long time. 

“Remember to enjoy your time there, okay? Don’t think too much about work,” you pout, knowing he still will.

“___, I’ll be on vacation but I won’t be on a break. You know I’ll still expect updates until next week. I’m gonna go crazy if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Of course you will,” you tease. “I’ll make sure to keep you posted. I’ll send emails for approvals, maybe call if something urgent comes up.”

“You’re the only one allowed to bother me, about anything. Remember that.”

He says the words with such finality, as if there’s no way for you to resist. You wouldn’t anyway. Other than knowing that you’ll definitely be bugging him for approvals and such, you also would want to know how he’s doing, if he’s enjoying his time away and if he’s getting enough rest. 

“I will,” you assure him. “So, uh. You should head out and get some sleep. It’s gonna be a long flight.”

He nods, knowing that he needs to let you go this time. He decides against offering to take you home - you’ve been insisting that it’s not necessary, and that you’ve been fine with your bus rides to your neighborhood in the evening. He doesn’t want to sound desperate so he finally says goodbye.

He lingers, as he doesn’t move for a good half minute and just stands there by your desk, giving you a look to express things that he can’t ever say. 

“Goodbye, Jungkook. Take care of yourself out there,” you finally say. 

“Goodbye, ___. You do the same. I’ll see you when I get back.”

It’s another few seconds before he manages to start walking away. One last glance then he leaves. And he convinces himself that the sullen look in your eyes means that you’ll be thinking about him while he’s away, the same way he’ll be thinking about you, perhaps while he looks at the sky, knowing it’s the same one you’ll be looking at, and then you wouldn’t feel so far away. 

The time on your watch reads 11:10. The plane should be leaving anytime soon, and you wonder how Jungkook is doing, if he was able to sleep well and eat at the airport lounge. You at least know he got there on time. Mr. Ri arrived some time ago to say that he’s dropped Jungkook off and that he was instructed to take you to work and bring you home until your boss comes back from his vacation. You didn’t argue, knowing that it’s Jungkook’s way of making things convenient for you, given all the responsibilities you have to carry while he’s away. 

But other than that, you don’t know how he’s doing without any update from him. Which is silly for you to even expect. This is a personal trip, after all, and even if the line has somehow blurred after everything that’s happened between you two, you shouldn’t be waiting for some message about him having boarded or something. You’ll maybe just wait for his email asking for updates about his father’s comments on the policies that Jungkook drafted for approval. Or once A-yeong has posted on social media that they’ve landed. 

You shake your head, knowing that liquidating expenses is more important right now than your boss. But then your phone beeps and the smile on your face is immediate.

[From: VP Jeon] The plane arrived late so we just boarded. I’ll get some work done during the flight but I just emailed you an end-of-year message for staff. Can you check if it sounds good? 

[To: VP Jeon] I will, sir. Have a safe flight. 

[From: VP Jeon] Thanks. I’ll let you know when we’ve landed.

Simple and professional, you think, but somehow the thought of him messaging you before takeoff - even if it’s work-related - has you feeling giddy. There’s no desire for more. Just knowing he’s okay and also still thinking of you has you satisfied.

You don’t get to wipe off the smile quick enough for Yoongi not to see, as you hear him clearing his throat, prompting you to look up and see his amused face.  

“I was just checking in to see how you’re coping with your boss away but it seems you’re doing fine,” he starts. “Unless… he’s the reason why you’re smiling.”

Your silence confirms his suspicion, and he merely laughs in response. 

“Yah! You’re supposed to reprimand me,” you pout at him.

“And what would that do?” He challenges. “You’re an adult. ___. You feel what you feel, you do what you do. It’s up to you how you want this to play out.”

“Well, I’ll tell you how it will play out,” you say. “I will continue doing what I’m supposed to do, wait for the Arts Center to open, resign, then never have to see or think about him again. And I’ll be content with that.”

Yoongi doesn’t press or counter you, choosing instead to just agree with your plan and be the supportive friend you need him to be, even if your eventual resignation will make him incredibly sad. 

You’re very particular with the people you let in, with the people you allow to become an important part of your life. He’s lucky he didn’t scare you away for you to distance yourself from him, and though you didn’t return his feelings, he supposes that’s better. He gets to be someone you feel comfortable enough to be with, to be honest with, and that’s more than he can ask for. However you choose to approach whatever it is you’re feeling for Jungkook, his friend who’s just as cautious when it comes to people, Yoongi will just be there like he has all these years. 

“Anyway, is that all you came here for? To know how I was doing?” You ask.

“I sent you the designs and proposals I need Jungkook to go through,” Yoongi responds. “He said to submit them and he’ll review those while he’s there. I wasn’t going to since I want him to actually rest and enjoy his vacation but he’ll be on my ass about it.”

He explains his vision, which you note down so you can articulate it when Jungkook asks. Yoongi leaves you to work on all your tasks, making sure to send you a teasing smile on his way out.

You continue with your day, ending it with an email to your boss about what transpired and the documents he needs to approve. He responds past 1AM the next day during his layover in Amsterdam. Two hours after that, he messages you that they’ve arrived in Denmark and will have dinner before going to bed. 

It’s the day after, on a Friday, when he schedules a video call with you that has you fixing your hair and retouching your lipstick before picking up. He shows up on the screen donned in a white jumper, his unstyled hair making him look cozy and much more boyish than you’re used to. You let yourself be familiarized with the scene, with him seated by a desk with the large window behind him showing clear blue skies and colorful structures. He seems to do the same, as the silence lingers for the next half a minute or so. 

He speaks up first, greeting you and asking how you’ve been. 

“I’m okay, Mr. Jeon. Getting a lot done on the post-event admin work,” you reply. “How about you? You  look refreshed and relaxed. That’s a new sight to see.”

“It’s probably the Copenhagen air,” he says. “It’s gorgeous out here. And the buildings are beautiful. We’re staying at this nice boutique hotel that Hoseok and I explored yesterday. It’s giving us ideas for a serviced apartment with this kind of design. Or maybe villas by the mountains.”

“Oh, talking about work while on vacation, I see,” you shake your head. “I bet A-yeong regrets inviting you to join them.”

“Maybe another day of Hoseok and I just going to hotels and random buildings and she already will,” he laughs. “It’s work but also not. It’s nice to feel inspired by the surroundings. I realized that doesn’t really happen when I’m there.”

“Oh I’m sure. You’re VP Jeon when you’re here and there, you’re just a regular person, a traveler, an architect. As long as you’re getting the rest that you deserve,” you smile. 

“That’s true,” he nods, taking your words in. 

He’s just him while he walks past the canal, while he explores the city and its vibrant structures; he’s just a man in a foreign country who doesn’t have to connect with people, he just has to connect with what’s around him. 

“So, let’s go over your email and the things I need to review and approve,” he continues.

Your hour-long meeting proceeds with approvals and instructions, and he impresses you with how much he’s done despite being on vacation. You suppose he’s still jet lagged and is just taking advantage, but you remind him again that the weekend is coming and you won’t be working, so neither should he. 

“I know, don’t worry,” he assures you. “We’re heading to other towns these next few days before taking the train to Sweden. I’ll have time to work but also to enjoy the scenery.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re able to take a break from all the craziness back here,” you say, meaning it. 

He works so hard and you always wonder if he allows himself to breathe, to take a pause so he can look forward to something, and then savor it when it comes.

“Me, too. So when you take your vacation, I expect the same from you, alright?” 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, sir,” you laugh. “I am gonna completely shut out once I clock off next Friday. You won’t hear from me until I’m back here.”

“Of course,” he says after a beat of silence. “You deserve a longer break, actually. You know you can always request for an extension.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want to deal with so much backlog,” you respond. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go and people to drag with me. Plus, I’ll have a few days off for my birthday next month so I’ll definitely have more chances for rest.”

Jungkook nods, knowing that time will be bittersweet for him because you’ll get to have your break while he’ll be without you. Just like how it is now, as he’s on this vacation while you’re left to do so much work thousands of miles away from him. It also means he doesn’t get to do his routine with you, something that’s given him comfort and a sense of stability these past months. Seeing you through this call is his only way to remain connected with you, a chance to know how you’re doing, a moment to hear your voice and see the smile he’s been without. It’s just been two days but he already feels it’s much longer.

He finally lets you go, knowing you’ll be clocking out soon. Even if he doesn’t want to yet, he says goodbye. 

As you asked, he savors their second day in the city, but he sees you everywhere - in all the greenery that he passes, in the library down the street, in the cafe with all the pastries that they eat at, and in the sky as he falls asleep at night. There’s comfort in knowing it’s the same one you wake up to every morning.

Not having Jungkook this long is a little disorienting. Sure, he’s been away a few times, but he’d still call or message to ask something or to give you instructions. It’s become your habit to bring him coffee every few hours, and you find yourself making one only to realize that he isn’t around. 

Seeing him in A-yeong’s social media feels quite intrusive, but you couldn’t help but watch her Instagram stories, with him in a green fleece jumper as he walked down charming streets last Saturday, and then a black coat over a blue sweatshirt as he strolled the beachside on Sunday. He called the day before, on Tuesday afternoon, for your regular check-in, another hour of talking about work, even if all you wanna hear about is how his days have been. You’ve never thought about it as much before, but somehow seeing him in this way makes you care, it makes you want to know what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking.

You shake away the thoughts as Wednesday ends. It’s been a week since he left and there’s over two more weeks until he’s back. You’ll have another call on Friday and there won’t be another one until you return from your own vacation, and the thought saddens you, knowing there won’t be a reason for either of you to reach out.

But you take it as a challenge, as a way for you to slowly get him out of your system. Hopefully being without him for a while will help.

Friday comes and the call with Jungkook goes a little longer than usual. It’s towards the end when Hoseok and A-yeong make an appearance, as they’re all staying at a rental by the lake in a town in Sweden, and are about to have their breakfast.

“___!” Hoseok chirps. “Is my cousin still working you to the bone?”

“Asks the man who has hours-long meetings with his assistant every other day. If I may say, Hoseok, you’re driving Bitna crazy. I think I just saw her earlier pulling her hair out,” you tease.

“Ah, I don’t blame her. There’s just too much going on,” he sighs. “But at least I’m off her back now. It’s your last day before your break, you shouldn’t even be working right now! You should just be hanging out with the team before you all go out for dinner!”

“Like you said, there’s just too much going on,” you counter. 

“These men never stop working, do they?” A-yeong huffs from next to her husband, prompting you to nod in agreement. She turns to Jungkook with her arms on her waist. “I’m telling you now, Kook, how are you gonna find a girlfriend when all you do is work, work, party, work, party, and work? Hmm?”

Jungkook chuckles, his hand behind his neck as he tries to give an answer. You can imagine A-yeong hampering him about this, given that she’s quite the proponent when it comes to companionship. It’s why she’s always patient with Hoseok, and why they love each other as much as they do. There’s understanding and respect, there’s trust and honesty. She’s not afraid to tell him when she feels neglected, and he makes up for it immediately.

“I’ll find her when I’m meant to,” Jungkook responds. “But anyway, I was just about to let ___ go.”

“Finally,” Hoseok says. Turning to you, he gives you that warm smile that you adore. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he doesn’t bug you during your break.”

“Good,” you respond, even if the thought saddens you a little. “Anyway, it looks so pretty out there. I’m so glad you’re all enjoying it.”

“It is! And the sights are spectacular, ___. It’s definitely a must-visit,” Hoseok replies. 

“One day,” you say, knowing it’ll probably never happen. Still, you indulge him. “I’ll settle with pictures for now, so you better take lots of them for me to see.”

“Ah, Kook is the resident photographer! He’s been taking a lot so he’ll show you.”

“That would be nice,” you smile. “Anyway, I don’t want to keep you from enjoying your day. So I’ll go ahead. I’ll see you all when you get back!”

They bid you goodbye, and there’s that nod again, that smile, that softness that you’ve started getting used to seeing on Jungkook. It’s what you think about during the team dinner an hour later, while in the car going home as soft music plays, and as you fall asleep.

You hold onto that last image of him, until the next day when A-yeong posts on her socials again. It’s those snippets of his life that make you pause during the day and keep you up at night. There’s so much about him that you’re drawn to, that you want to get to know, that you want to protect. 

He’s like a movie that plays in the local theater - captivating, intriguing, yet you remain a spectator and then it ends, moving on and you’ve only got the memory of it etched in your mind. It’s not yours to watch whenever you want and no matter how much you try to analyze it, it’ll always just be your interpretation, not his. He’ll remain as a moving image that you want so much to capture but seems too big, too overwhelming, too far. 

But there are instances when you think you’ve got him for a second, that you understand him a little. There are moments like arriving at his penthouse the morning after he gets back from his trip with his mussed hair and oversized jumper that he feels more human, more flawed, more tangible. 

It’s when he smiles at you and says that it’s nice to see you again that he feels within reach. It’s also the moment you realize that him being away didn’t really help. If anything, it intensified that feeling that you know you can’t have. You’re gonna lose him one day, and when you do, you hope for only the good memories to stay. 

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[meduseld]

I have a current hc for the Ghost mask thing, these are throughout a single fic (but unless by some miracle I end up finishing and publishing it, it'll never come out lol):

--------

“Really?” He raises a usually invisible eyebrow pale and delicate for what he is. People expect harsher features from the Ghost.

He wonders what Soap would think of him if he took off the mask. Just a regular bloke with the milestones of his life etched onto his face in scars. They tell a tale like tattoos, collected over a lifetime of violence, each with a different meaning, most just another mistake.

-------

“You think I’m ugly.” Ghost reminds him, glad for the one thing sure to keep Johnny interested. It’s heady, this obsession Johnny has with his face and Ghost wants to keep the mystery alive for his own selfish pleasure.

He’s sure Johnny will lose interest the second the balaclava comes off and the infamous Ghost turns out to be just a regular bloke from Manchester.

-------

“Does it matter?” Soap asks right back. “It changes nothing for me. Can’t even get you to trust me enough to show me your face.” He shrugs, careful not to jostle his right side.

-------

He could stay as he is, mask firmly in place. But if Soap really thinks that not showing his face is a sign of distrust, he owes everyone here the gesture. Ghost pulls off the balaclava, dreading to look at anyone, especially at Soap and takes a new one from the table. They are in this together.

Soap stares at him long after Simon’s face is covered again.

------

At this point it’s more like a habit than anything else, because there’s no one to remember Simon’s face except for Price. Funny enough, it was Price who made sure of that, despite Ghost being more than capable of tying loose ends.

Price is deceptively ruthless with an admirable disregard for regs when it’s about something important to him. Those bastards didn’t even see the Captain coming for them, so preoccupied with tracking a faceless Ghost.

--------

So basically there was a time when it was an advantage to become faceless. During this time Ghost got used to the mystery and the only person in his life who was worthy of knowing what he looked like, already did. Then Soap comes along who's OBSESSED and Ghost thrives on the attention despite himself and he's afraid of disappointing Soap by being average (I mean, we've all seen Soap's/Neil's face, who wouldn't be self-conscious?). He has scars, but they are mostly meaningful to him, to a simple observer Ghost isn't disfigured or anything.

What he doesn't consider is how the mask can be perceived as being distrustful by others, so he proves his trust first to Ghost team then later to Soap.

The mask is his fucked-up way of upholding his 'image', because it’s easier to keep being Ghost than explaining why he isn't any more (see Price making somewhat of a deal of Ghost removing his mask.)

God, I have so many thoughts on this lol (like 25k and counting), but yeah, Ghost in my head isn't just a cool emo kid who couldn’t be a whole person without the balaclava.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yes yes yes! Delicate features! Just a dude from Manchester! The mask as a coping mechanism which was useful at the time but might now need to be outgrown! Insecurity! Neil/Soap being Hot!

You get it, I love this so much. I also love the idea that Ghost's deal is complicated and he does sometimes just take the mask off and blend into crowds and disappear because he is Some Dude and the whole point is, as you say, controlling who can match the face to the guy versus just being masked up all the time.

Thank you!

Also, he deserves to see this because it slaps, hey @samuelroukin

[cdroloisms]

as of yet unnamed ghost!dream au

here’s some of a ghost!dream au that i’ve been working on for the last few days!! it’s been Fun - definitely one of my favorite current aus, along w/ vegas team 2.0 and others. it’s a really ,, bittersweet c!sam + c!dream centric au that’s equal parts fluffy and messed up, and my goal is to (somehow) wrangle this mess into some sort of happy ending 

anyway, i hope you all enjoy!! definitely look out for more of this in the future, and a future name change when i get around to thinking of one that Fits lmao 

tw: blood, violence, implied torture, abuse, description of dead bodies, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, death, dehumanization

Sam woke up to fifty pounds of fur smacking him in the face.

He startled, stumbled to awareness as he struggled to breathe from the newfound weight on his chest. It took a few moments for his vision to clear up enough to see what was right in front of him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile as Fran sat, self-satisfied, with her paws pressed against his collarbones, looking for all the world like she was priding herself in her win.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He ran a hand through the fur on her head, got a bark in return. The smile dropped, however, when his brain - still foggy with sleep - began to drag itself into awareness, bringing with it a whole slew of unpleasant memories that largely made him want to crawl back under the covers for another week, please.

Fran barked again, headbutted him insistently, and he pushed away the thoughts with a bleary shake of his head. As much as he wanted to avoid his responsibilities, experience had taught him otherwise, and what was he without his duty, now?

He was halfway through the process of putting on his armor when he realized, hands falling from the straps they had been readjusting, lips pulled into a thin line.

Oh.

Right.

Fran barked again, probably noticing his hesitance, making a point of ramming her head into the backs of his legs again when he stood still for a little too long. Sam stared at his hands for a moment, then another, before going to undo the fastenings of his netherite chestplate and hang it back up on the stand.

He wouldn’t be needing those for a while, would he?

“Hey girl.” He kneeled down to scratch Fran by the ears, smiling softly when she closed her eyes in satisfaction. He usually didn’t have any time to spend with her, not with him needing to check on the prisoner in the morning to make sure he would be ready for Quackity’s visits at noon and his afternoons usually filled with his work at Las Nevadas and on his own bank and keeping the prisoner alive-

Sam breathed out a little too harshly, reaching for the Warden’s communicator he kept tucked in his chest pocket. The same words stared at him in the morning light, clear and damning.

Dream was slain by Quackity using [Warden’s Will].

It had been an accident, in the end. He hadn’t been listening well enough, Quackity’s shouts blending with Dream’s ragged screams making up the same painful two-note song that filled most of his days, when the cell - steadily growing in sound for the past hour, as Quackity (inevitably) became more desperate and the prisoner (inevitably) forwent any attempts at holding back his pain - suddenly went silent.

The quiet itself was enough to raise his hackles, have him reaching for a pearl as he clicked open his communicator; the quiet “Sam?” from Quackity only made them rise more.

By the time he reached the other side, his communicator was already buzzing with the notification he’d known would appear, in the end, and Dream was lying still with a sword shoved through his chest.

---

Sam hadn’t really reacted, when he first realized. He set upon the task of cleaning up the aftermath much the same way as he approached everything nowadays, quick, efficient, and methodical. He sent Quackity away to wash off the worst of the blood, not bothering to follow him across the lava; it’s not like there was any prisoner that could take advantage of the loosened security, anymore. With the winged man gone, he resigned himself to the job of dealing with the remains of the prisoner.

In the heat of the lava, the body hadn’t even cooled yet, the blood flowing from it- him- whatever, still warm to the touch. Sam eased off the cracked remains of the mask, heart momentarily seizing at the sight of the face underneath it; gaunt, pale, and stretched in memories of pain that it could no longer feel, it- he looked anything but peaceful. His eyes were still blown open in fright, bright green eyes long-dulled, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones thrown in sharp relief from the paleness of his skin. Even with the scars on every visible inch of skin, he looked- young, like a scared kid, expression tortured even in death, and Sam could feel echoes of horror beating against his skull like a heartbeat. With a slightly shaking hand, he closed Dream’s eyes - the man was dead. It was the least he could do.

He must’ve spent a solid few minutes carefully bandaging each cut and gash, still sluggishly weeping blood - not that it meant anything, with him dead, but it felt - necessary, to at least give him this much dignity after death. He was covered in blood, some of it fresh, most of it not, but after wiping away the worst of it from his skin (his hair and clothes had been a lost cause for a long time), he almost looked- human. It wasn’t a perfect image; he was far, far too still to be anything like the Dream that Sam remembered, and there were more bandages than exposed skin, at this point, skin paper-white against the black of the obsidian floor and the air still thick with the smell of blood, but if he squinted a little he could almost imagine that Dream was only sleeping. That nothing had happened.

Nothing had happened.

Or at least- nobody could know what did happen. Not with Dream’s death meaning that the information of the revival book was lost forever, not when his death would open up a whole can of worms that both he and Quackity would be better off not having to deal with for the rest of time, thank you very much. Keeping it all a secret wouldn’t be that hard, all things considered; he could turn away visitors with the excuse of preventing something like Tommy’s death from happening again, and it’s not like anyone was particularly preoccupied with thinking about the conditions of the prisoner. He and Quackity would have to think of a better excuse in the future, but now wasn’t the time. All he had to do was get Dream’s body out of Pandora and away from people’s prying eyes; everything else could come after.

Picking up Dream took less effort than he expected; even though the man was a dead weight, he hardly seemed to weigh anything in Sam’s arms. Making their way out of the prison was much harder, but with a few well-placed enderpearls and the abuse of quite a few guard mechanisms, they were out under the night sky. It was a clear night: the moon nearly full, the stars bright and twinkling; it was the kind of night that Dream loved, once.

He bit back the thought as soon as it came. Dream was dead and those days were gone. There wasn’t any point of thinking about them, now.

He ended up carrying the man to a patch of forest against the beaches behind the prison, burying him without much fanfare and pulling out a piece of cobble to serve as a shoddy headstone. It was a small and lonely grave in the middle of a woods that no one ever visited, the cobblestone dull and easy to miss. Only Sam would know where it was.

He told himself that he didn’t care as he left, tridenting across the bay towards the community portal so he could finally go home and rest. It didn’t matter; hardly anyone had bothered visiting the man when he was alive. What would change with him dead?

Distantly, thunder rumbled.

---

It was strange, to have nowhere to go, reminded him of the early days when it was just him and Fran exploring and hollowing out the mountain for his base one block of stone at a time. He figured that it was about time that he and Fran went on a proper walk, anyway, and so after a light breakfast they were off - Fran running in front in leaps and bounds, tail a blur as she greeted every tree and rock by the house with the eager overfamiliarity that only a dog could have, Sam staying back and whistling whenever she came a little too close to harassing a fox or chicken or whatever mobs were out in the early morning. Every once in a while, she would run back, shoving her face into his hands as if to check in and say hello, and he would give her a couple assuring pats before she rocketed away again.

He definitely should’ve been doing this more often; a small rock of guilt settled in his gut at the sight of Fran’s clear exhilaration at being outside of the same four walls. Her room was as nice as he could make it - food and water kept in abundance, an assortment of toys scattered all over the floor, her bed covered in a collection of blankets she had claimed for her own - but with everything going on, he really hadn’t had the time to bring her on long walks and play with her as he should have. She looked happier than she’d been in months.

He looked up; Fran was in the process of running back towards him, again, and he opened his arms in anticipation of a flying ball of fur smacking him in the chest once more, when she froze. Paws digging into the grass, her head cocked to the side as her ears swiveled, pointed up and alert at some sound that Sam couldn’t hear. Her muscles tensed, and he stepped closer, hand reaching forward-

“Fran, don’t-”

Fran darted off into the forest, a white streak disappearing in the underbrush, and Sam muffled a yell as he moved to chase her. Her sprint sent fallen leaves flying up into the air, a trail of dust and destruction following her as she dashed deeper into the trees.

“Fran, get back here, what are you doing, stop running!”

Completely ignoring him, Fran continued to run ahead, turning suddenly to the right and sending Sam scrambling in an attempt to follow. Ducking out of sight past a collection of thickets into what appears to be a sunlit grove in the middle of the forest, she gave a sudden, triumphant-sounding bark.

“Fran, you really can’t be running off like this, girl, I don’t even know where we are-”

He froze.

Fran, bright white in the sunlight, was wagging her tail as she panted, tongue lolling out of her mouth, muzzle seemingly split in a wide grin. Her dark eyes looked up at Sam, bright and intelligent, and she barked again when he looked at her as if to ask him if he was proud of her discovery.

Just behind Fran, translucent in the light, stood a figure. They were short - only coming up to Sam’s waist, if that, and wore an oversized light-green hoodie that reached halfway down their hands and khaki shorts. Their hair seemed windswept, blown around by some nonexistent breeze, defying gravity as it floated in a messy halo around their head; they turned towards him, freckled cheeks immediately breaking out in a blinding smile.

“Sam!”

He watched, numbly, as the kid stumbled forward, tripping on nothing as they crashed into him, arms immediately going to wrap around his legs tightly. They looked up, shoulders shaking with small giggles, mouth open to show a gap-toothed grin - one that was far, far too familiar.

“Dream?”

“Hiya Sam! Didja miss me?” Dream giggled again, still looking up at Sam, and he felt something dark and cold, almost like guilt, rising in his throat as he met his gaze.

Dream’s eyes were pitch black.

[bastillewolf]

Midnight In Sheffield (VIII)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician whilst on her sleepless escapade in the AM.

Notes: I’m back! Sorry this took me so long, I wasn’t entirely sure how to plot out the story, and now that I have to move I’ve been dealing with a lot of stress. I hope you’re all doing well x

Also, happy belated birthday to our very own Jamie Cook and Nicholas O’Malley!

Warnings: mentions of domestic violence.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Chapter VIII - R U Mine?

The walk up the stairs to her previously shared room in the hotel seemed to take a lot longer than usual. Her legs apparently found it to be highly unnecessary to spend the effort walking quickly when it was this late and they were already tired.

The clerk had told her Mark was indeed present, and that he should still be awake after ordering a drink not five minutes ago. The clerk seemed hesitant to disclose this information when she’d initially asked him, and it made her wonder why.

Was he sad? Or still angry? A part of her hoped it was the latter, for that would make things easier. She could handle angry, but she could never watch him cry. She’d never seen it before, so she wouldn’t know where to begin.

She knocked on the door, and heard a glass roughly being placed on what she presumed was the coffee table. She heard his footsteps grow nearer, until finally he opened the door, and stood in front of her.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

He looked tired. But he didn’t look angry. There was something else about him, but she couldn’t yet decipher what it was. Some kind of sadness loomed in his eyes and his shoulders were slumped, which made the pit in her stomach grow by tenfold. What if he was sad?

He finally collected his thoughts and invited her in, yet in a cool manner without any tremor in his voice.

He hadn’t packed any of his things, nor hers, which meant that their fight had only been that to him. And that’s what it should’ve been to her, if she hadn’t been lying to herself all this time.

They both took a seat on the couch, as far away from each other as possible. Mark picked up his drink.

“I have to-“

“Something-“

They both fell silent, neither of them very willing to be the first to speak even though they’d both taken the initiative at the same time just then. Mark finally gestured for her to start, which she accepted, and took a deep breath for. She’d never before felt this estranged to him.

“Mark, I don’t think I can do this-“

“I slept with Rachel.”

…

“What?”

He’d interrupted her when it seemed the guilt had finally taken its toll on him. That’s the thing she’d seen when she’d met his eyes as he opened the door. Guilt, shame, anguish; whatever you want to call it. She hadn’t recognized them because she was sure Mark was incapable of feeling those emotions. He’d never shown them before.

Yet, here he was, proving her wrong once again.

And surprisingly, she found it more aggravating that of all the time they’d spent together, he only now thought it best to show some form of regret over any of his actions. She’d barely even blinked when he’d confessed the actual problem.

Honestly, she should’ve seen it coming. She’d already known long before that Rachel was a serial adulteress, and that James didn’t know about a thing. She knew Mark was always adamant to make time for her whenever their busy schedules allowed it, yet was never able to take a day off to meet what should’ve been his future in-laws. She also knew Mark and Rachel had had a thing back in high school, and that the only reason it had ended was because Rachel eventually had to move away.

She’d always been revolted by cheaters. Cowards, they’d been in her eyes.

But now that she was facing the man who had committed such a crime, who was now on his knees in front of her begging for forgiveness, all she could feel was pity, and a sense of understanding.

He hadn’t been the only one, after all.

“Mark,” she said, pulling her hands out of his clammy grasp. He looked up at her with - if he had been any good of an actor she would’ve called them teary - sweaty eyes. She looked right through his façade.

“I forgive you.”

“You- You do?” he asked in confusion.

She nodded. “But only if you can forgive me.”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I kissed someone else. More than once.”

He blinked, as if in a daze, and slowly got up off the floor. He turned to look out the window. “Did… Did you like it?” he asked.

“I did,” she honestly told him. “Mark, you and I haven’t been happy for a very long time. This was bound to happen one way or another, and I can only be relieved it was an unexpected simultaneous decision on both our ends. I came to tell you I think we shouldn’t be together anymore, and I think it’s obvious why.”

“But… It was a mistake…” he muttered, running a hand through his curly hair.

“It wasn’t. Deep down, you know it wasn’t. Mark, it’s better this way. We should move on with our lives, so we can both find happiness.”

“I was happy with you.”

“And I once was with you too, but it wasn’t meant to last. I can only thank you for being such a good partner, and getting me through my rough patches. I hope you hold a similar sentiment, and that maybe we could still be friends.”

He didn’t respond, and it slightly worried her. She thought her words might’ve been enough to soothe him, but as of right now, he held as much emotion as a book with a blank cover.

Perhaps he was in shock?

She had half the heart to reach out to him and wrap her arms around him, so she hesitantly got up, until-

She wasn’t quite sure what had happened anymore.

One second she was getting up, and the next she was on the floor, holding her stinging cheek.

He’d actually hit her.

Yet the only thing she could think of was not how she should’ve seen this coming, or that she should feel scared, but of how she wouldn’t want Alex to see her bruised face.

“Go on then,” he spat, “Go back to your new boyfriend, you fucking whore. I hope you make him as miserable as you did me.”

She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to give him that. So, she got up, looked him in the eye, and said, “I’m going to let that one slide, because I know how you can get when you’re drunk. Goodbye, Mark.”

Years of working hard to maintain a mature and healthy relationship, or some form of such a façade, only now down the drain, when they should’ve been saying the ‘yes’-word to each other in front of all their friends and family in a few months. It should’ve ended much earlier. It was done.

And that should’ve been that.

But right as she was about to shut the hotel door behind her, something made of glass – presumably his previous drink – shattered against the wall, causing shards to fly through the slit of the opening and dig into her arm.

She didn’t waste any time bolting down the hall, ignoring the elevator, and stumbling down the stairs as she heard his footsteps follow dangerously close behind her. She felt him brush the back of her arm once, and in her panic she jumped down the last set of stairs.

Her ankle twisted in a nasty way, but barely noticing it because of the panicked adrenaline coursing through her veins, she kept running. Past the clerk who shouted in concern but was unable to do anything, through the doors, up the hill, and past the fountain, until all she could hear through the whistling in her ears were her gasping breaths and her shoes clacking across the cobblestone street.

She halted and looked around, noticing that the block was entirely empty.

She sunk to her knees, and finally allowed herself to cry.

…

She heard the front door open, but didn’t bother to look up. Her eyes were glued to the empty pages in front of her, one on the screen of her laptop, and the other resting on her desk with a closed pen next to it. The shuffling of feet grew ever nearer, like a predator nearing in on its prey, and it told her all she should know about Mark’s lack of soberness. He had been going out a lot these days, claiming it was only to catch up with colleagues. But she knew otherwise.

“You should be asleep,” he slurred.

“You said you wouldn’t be out long,” she shot back.

Sleep depravation does a lot to you, and so does alcohol. And when the two collide, only bad things follow.

“Why do you think I go out?! You should be in bed,” he repeated with a dangerously low voice.

She got up, her chair scraping across the floor, and looked him right in the eye. “Sounds like a real good coping mechanism, Mark.”

She was about to turn to walk into their bedroom when she was suddenly spun around and her back hit the wall. Mark’s hands wrapped down her throat, and he looked as if he wanted to do more than that.

“Go the fuck to bed,” was all he’d said.

And they’d never spoken about it again.

…

“Love?”

She wasn’t underwater, she was pretty sure of that. But it did sound like it when Alex spoke again.

“Love? Are you alright?”

He was kneeling down next to her, and had draped his coat over her shoulders. It had started raining; a while ago, from the feel of her soaked hair.

She’d long stopped crying, and only know realized how ridiculous she must’ve looked sitting in the middle of the street like this, sobbing while it started pouring, with the knees of her tights torn and her black makeup blotched all over her face which she made no attempt to fix or hide. She was a real mess.

“Let’s get you inside, yeah?”

***

@alexbandguy86 @bettyschwallocksyee​ @fookingsummertime @juicebox-baby​@darksydork7​ @edgythought​ @ssadderdaze​ @h0twasabi​ @rogerseyeliner​ @arctic-monkcys​ @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo @rosemallowss​

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2019 Day 21: Hurt/Comfort (and Whump) 

Lie To Me | @castielslostwings Rating: Explicit Word Count: 27476 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate season 14, canon divergent at s13e23 “let the good times roll”, angst with a happy ending, Michael!Dean, fix-it, pining, temporary MCD, human castiel, casturbation, top Cas/bottom Dean, Sam & Cas brother moments, alcohol as a coping mechanism, Chuck Ex Machina, hurt/comfort, Castiel whump, Dean whump Summary: Castiel and Sam's plan to expel Michael from Dean's body backfires in a big way, leaving them with an unexpectedly human archangel and the horrifying possibility that Dean's soul is gone forever. Can they bring Dean home from wherever he's gone? What will become of a human Michael trapped in Dean's body? How will Castiel survive losing the love of his life, just when things were starting to fall together?

Worlds Away | @hefellfordean Rating: Mature Word Count: 4240 Main Tags and Warnings: Multiple Universes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Interdimensional Travel, Getting Together, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: "In all the infinite, incalculable number of worlds, you don’t love me. But what’s worse, is that I didn’t need to ask to know that I love you in any world, unconditionally – and unrequited.”, Cas says, pulling away from Dean. Castiel is sent to a place between worlds, with infinite doorways through which he must travel to return home. All of the worlds he visits have something in common: Dean doesn't love him. His world is the same - or is it?

Angel Whisperer | @noiproksa Rating: General Word Count: 2767 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt Castiel, Concussions Summary: Taking care of a concussed angel is a lot harder than anticipated. Dean might be out of his depth, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do everything he can to make his angel feel better. (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

Anti-Cuddle Curse | @noiproksa Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5155 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt Castiel, Cuddling & Snuggling, Witch Curses, Hurt/Comfort Summary: When a witch curses Team Free Will, Dean realizes how much being able to touch Cas really means to him. (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

Touch Deprived | @noiproksa Rating: General Word Count: 4132 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt Castiel, Angel Healing, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Confused by all the human rules for personal space and touching, Cas has to come up with excuses in order to be able to touch Dean and Sam. Or is it the other way around? (Intended as gen, but can be read as Destiel pre-slash.)

longing for grapefruit | @reallyelegantsharkfish Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1686 Main Tags and Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Recreational Drug Use, Marijuana, Oral Sex, Mental Health Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Shotgunning, Demisexual Castiel Summary: Dean lights up and takes the first hit, but instead of exhaling, he leans over towards Cas. It’s not a proper kiss, breathing in Dean’s air, but it’s intimate, and they take turns sharing hits in between kisses. Cas is flying. Cas can feel everything, Cas is out of his body. “Baby,” Dean says, soft in between them. “Let me make you feel good.”

Green Corners | @rustling-pages Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 72533 Main Tags and Warnings: Elemental Magic AU, (Threat of) Main Character Death, (Past) Child Death, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn Summary: After the death of his son, there is nothing left for Dean other than his garden market. His days are tough, the nights are tougher, but at least there's a reason to get up in the morning. And with the new boom on do-it-yourself garden magic, his business is going okay. Amidst the passing of time, there is only one thing that distracts him from functioning like a normal human being: Diagonally across the street, in the display window of that traditional Herb and Potion shop, plants are dying in masses. Storming in to confront the owner goes differently than he imagined, though. Castiel Novak may be the kind of guy who wears old-fashioned mage robes and keeps his shop in sweltering heat, but he's also a talented herbalist, the kindest soul Dean has ever met, and utterly beautiful. Not that Dean is ready for anything other than friendship. (Not that Cas doesn’t get sick a bit too often.)

The Bone Eater (WIP) | @rachelhaimowitz Rating: Explicit Word Count: 111259 Main Tags and Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s), Castiel/Original Male Character(s), Hurt/Comfort, Prisoner Dean, Monsters, Dean Whump, Season/Series 09, Set somewhere between Bad Boys and Holy Terror, Size Kink, Non-Consensual Bondage, Violent Sex, Manhandling, Torture, Castiel Whump, Forced Orgasm, Prisoner Castiel, Possessive Behavior Summary: When Dean wakes in a strange prison cell, he quickly realizes he's become another victim of the mystery monster he and Sam have been hunting: a creature who sucks the marrow right out of people's bones. There are years--sometimes decades--between the killings, and no connection between them but men who were big, strong, and healthy when they disappeared. Dean learns right up close and personal why the monster picks who he picks. Unfortunately, stuck behind bars, consistently outmatched, and growing weaker by the day, he's having a tough time putting that information to good use. But Cas can't hear his prayers anymore (and doesn't owe him shit anyway, the way he left the guy), and Zeke might or might not have his ears on (and might or might not let Sam do anything about it even if he did), and Dean ain't no damsel in distress besides. He's gonna get out of there no matter what it takes, and he's damn well gonna make sure this monster never hurts anyone again--especially not the guy he finally finds the courage to admit he loves.

Fighting My Way Back | @deans-jiggly-pudding Rating: Explicit Word Count: 81740 Main Tags and Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, major character death, canon compliant up to S13, Slow Burn, PTSD Summary: Sam, Cas, and Mary are trying and failing to break Dean out of Michael’s stronghold. Jack is exploring his potential while slowly recovering his power. He has the ability to create, but until his grace is at full strength, his creation must be made out of something already existing. Our favorite nephilim has a plan to use his newfound power to snap Dean out of Michael's control, but what will become of Dean after the ejection? And can Team Free Will 2.0 stop Michael before he destroys the world?

don't leave me | @breathingdestiel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1016 Main Tags and Warnings: au, established relationship, angst with a happy ending Summary: Dean is a mess after Cas leaves him. And it's all his fault.

Angeleech | @noiproksa Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 14457 Main Tags and Warnings: hurt/comfort, hurt castiel, case fic, platonic cuddling, sharing a bed, team free will Summary: It was supposed to be an easy hunt, but then everything goes sideways. Dean and Sam have to take care of an injured Cas and find out what is going on with the angel before it is too late.

Keeper of the Garden | @pherryt Rating: Mature Word Count: 5672 Main Tags and Warnings: Perceived MCD but not really, Season 13 Finale Coda, possessed!dean, Michael!Dean, Hurt/Comfort, Saving Dean, Recovering Dean, Angst, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Caretakers Sam and Cas (but mostly Cas), Gardening Dean, Canon, until next season starts anyway, broken!dean, Crazy!Dean, Hurt!Cas, Confessions Summary: Michael backed out of their deal and now Dean's stuck, trapped in his own mind with a crazy Archangel who keeps showing him Cas's death over and over again, keeps making Dean kill Cas over and over again... till he really does and Dean snaps... Finally free of Michael but not of his own sins, Dean is slow to recover from the possession, and is convinced Cas is dead at his own hands. Dean has done a lot of things, both good and bad, but there's nothing that will ever make up for that.

Any Other Day (WIP) | @peanutbutterjelly-pie Rating: Mature Word Count: 21679  Main Tags and Warnings: Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers Summary: Victor just wants to finally enjoy his weekend. But when weird reports of a man in a trench coat having been arrested for murder in some small town in Colorado are coming in and the names of the Winchester brothers are all of a sudden mentioned for the very first time in almost a decade inside the FBI building, Victor needs to kiss his free time goodbye. So instead of spending his days on the couch, eating all the takeout he can find and watching crappy movies, he all at once sees himself confronted with an unstable angel, incapable of controlling his powers, a hunter missing from the scene, nowhere to be found, and the other one worried out of his mind about his family. Yeah, that's not the quiet weekend Victor had been hoping for. At all.

You are my home | @DesiraeLovesDestiel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4774 Main Tags and Warnings: canon verse, bunker fic, post season 11, Castiel whump, love confessions, profound bond, smut, angst Summary: “Cas? Hey buddy, wake up.” Castiel blinked his eyes open slowly, looking up at Dean owlishly before jolting up, nearly clipping Dean’s jaw on the way. “Hey, hey,” Dean said, concern lacing his tone. “You okay, man?” Castiel cleared his throat. “Yes. My apologies, Dean.” “S’okay. You wanna tell me why you’re sleeping in Baby?” Things have settled down since rescuing Sam. Mary is bonding with her sons, and Castiel is nearly back to full capacity, just needing a little sleep here and there. When Dean discovers Cas' unusual resting spot, what starts as a series confessions leads to the emotional healing they both needed.

If This Is To End In Fire | @reaperlove77 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16279 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester Whump, Supernatural Elements, Smut, Anal Sex, Temporary Character Death, Happy Ending, Past Abuse, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Dean-Centric, Haunted Houses, Domestic Violence (not Dean/Cas), BAMF Castiel, Panic Attacks, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Slurs, Bottom Dean, Top Castiel, Gothic Elements Summary: Dean Winchester doesn't trust easy, not after everything he's been through. When he finds a new home and a new job in Kelvin's Point, he's almost ready to believe he also found happiness for the first time in his life. But what does he really know about this Castiel and is their love enough to keep the ghosts from the past away for good?

When Angels Cry | @sweetdaydreamsblog Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1068 Main Tags and Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death, Mentions of Suicide, Happy Ending, Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Castiel Summary: Castiel remembers the events that transpired during Dean's last night on Earth, as well as what happened after.

Eyes Shut | @galaxystiel Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1493 Main Tags and Warnings: AU, Human!Castiel, alcoholism, drunk driving, supernatural elements, angst with a happy ending Summary: Dean learns a lesson about the dangers of drink-driving, and in the process learns a few things about his future.

And I swear | @notfunnydean Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4413 Main Tags and Warnings: abusive relationship, Dean dates Arthur Ketch at first, hurt!Dean, break up between Arthur and Dean, first time, first kiss, bottom!Dean, top!Cas, crying Dean, Cas saves Dean Summary: Dean knows that Arthur is treating him badly, but he had worse in his life and besides, it’s not like the person he really loves wants him back.

I'm a sucker for you | @notfunnydean Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3148 Main Tags and Warnings: Drunk!Dean, hurt!Cas Summary: Dean knows he and Castiel are a good team, but he only talks about his feelings for Castiel when he’s drunk and doesn’t remember their kisses in the morning. Someday Castiel has enough.

Event Horizon | @cas-lost-grace Rating: Mature Word Count: 6442 Main Tags and Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Dean, Depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Past Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst,Texting, Sharing a Bed, Happy Ending, Veteran Dean, Doctor Dean, Writer Castiel Summary: Castiel couldn't have helped his sister. That's why being offered a chance to help somebody else dealing with suicidal thoughts he took it without hesitation. When he gets the first text from someone who needs his help, nothing goes as he expected.

Finding You, in Pieces of Me | @lunastories Rating: Mature Word Count: 21263 Main Tags and Warnings: Trueform Castiel, Angst with a happy ending, Post Sam's fall into the pit Summary: Dean is jaded after the loss of his brother and left with little to no hope in humanity. Castiel decides to show the world and humanity from his perspective so that Dean can regain the spark that he’s lost. They visit seven locations that have significance to Castiel. From the Cave of Crystals inhabited by an ancient eel spirit, to the Atacama Desert haunted by a heartbroken woman, Dean goes through a journey of self discovery. Slowly, Dean falls for Castiel and the world the angel sees.

Love me to Death | @lunastories Rating: Mature Word Count: 9219 Main Tags and Warnings: Death!Dean, Temporary Character Death, Reincarnation, Angst, Self harm Summary: There once was a man who feared Death. He feared him so much he tried to seek immortality, but his efforts were in vain. Eventually, he learned to love Death and everything he represented. This is the story of a mortal and a god and their love for one another.

Mixtapes (WIP) | silverstar2419 (Wattpad) Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 8407 Main Tags and Warnings: Depression, dealing with depression, mentions of attempted suicide Summary: Two years ago Dean tried to kill himself but Bobby stepped in and saved his life. Now he deals with his unwanted life the same he used to, strippers and beer. What happens when he finds out the person he loves as more than a friend (or brother for that matter) has the same feelings? Let's find out.

What We Ache For | @almaasi Rating: Explicit Word Count: 93115 Main Tags and Warnings: Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Sex Work, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff, Consent, Sex Worker Castiel, Demisexual Castiel, Police Officer Dean, Affectionate Dean, Dean bottoms for the first time, Making Love, Cuddling and Snuggling, Injury Recovery, Temporary Amnesia, Supportive Sam, Castiel loves dogs, Domestic Fluff Summary: Working as a prostitute (that’s ‘sex worker’ to the decent folks), Castiel has heard more than his fair share of odd requests. When he’s paid to spend a night with Dean Winchester (handsome, dork of all dorks, has a nice car... secretly a cop), the last thing Castiel expects to hear are the words “I wanna make love.” That's the one thing he’s never done before – so Dean is going to show him how to do it. But then, barely a month after that night is over, Castiel finds himself in a difficult situation, and Dean is mistakenly summoned to help. They begin to share again: Dean’s apartment, the spare bed, their deepest secrets. Over time, with the support of Dean’s brother Sam, a mystery dog, and lots of cuddles, kisses, comfort, and tea, maybe Cas can finally be loved the way he deserves.

Lost Night | @almaasi Rating: General Word Count: 2608 Main Tags and Warnings: Canon Universe, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Brief Angst, Pre-Slash, Best Friends, Holding Hands, Dreams, Dreamwalking, Lucid Dreaming, Angel Castiel, Sad Dean, Mutual Pining Summary: Dean is so afraid of losing his best friend that he dreams Cas is floating away. His longing is great enough that the real-life Castiel is summoned, dreamwalking into Dean's subconscious – and, as The Beatles once said: "the minute you let him under your skin... then you begin to make it better..."

Unconditional | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2676 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff and Angst, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Unconditional Love, Human Castiel, Injured Castiel, Caring Dean, Abused Dean, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Abusive John Winchester Summary: Over the years, Dean's learned a lot about himself, and the way he loves those around him. Now Cas is back from the dead, and he came back human - and hurt. As Dean soothes Cas' wounds in the front seat of the Impala, an ache in his heart drives him to find words to explain.

Mostly in Silence | @almaasi Rating: General Word Count: 4216 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romance, Depression, Executive Dysfunction, Mental Health Issues, Self Care, Fallen Angel Castiel, Human Castiel, Castiel in the Bunker, Depressed Castiel, Sick Castiel, Caring Dean, Stargazing, Stars, Holding Hands, First Kiss, Poetic, No Spoilers, Always Keep Fighting, You are not alone Summary: Dean returns home to the bunker, only to find Castiel is lost in a deep depression. Taking their cues from the night sky (perhaps holding hands, perhaps sharing their first kiss), Dean helps Castiel rediscover a small but shining sense of hope.

Delirium and Doctor Sexy | @almaasi Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 9388 Main Tags and Warnings: Crack, Comfort, Fluff, Pre-Slash, Doctor Sexy M.D., Hunt Gone Wrong, Dean Hallucinates, Age Regression/De-Aging (mentally only), Bisexual Dean, Closeted Dean, Innocent Dean, Character Analysis, Dean Projects His Insecurities, Dean in Panties, Magic Made Them Do It, Sexual References, No Sex, Unresolved Romantic Tension Summary: Dean got hit by a wave of magical gas while protecting Sam, and now he's curled up in a motel bed, watching comfort TV on his laptop and hallucinating. Cas hangs around to look after him. But Dean thinks the friendly angel at his bedside is actually his favourite fictional beefcake, Dr. Sexy, M.D.. With all inhibitions on standby, Dean might admit a few things about himself he never dared to tell anyone before.

Dean, 2 pm | @sternchencas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1464 Main Tags and Warnings: suicidal thoughts, emotional hurt/comfort Summary: Cas is done with his life. He's ready to end it all. The only thing that might be able to change his mind is one little note in his calendar that says 'Dean, 2 pm'.

Patch Me Up | @babybluecas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1426 Main Tags and Warnings: canon universe, fallen!Cas, minor injury Summary: When Dean gets injured on a hunt, it's Cas's turn to take care of him.

Oh Death, Bring Him Back | @envydean Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3984 Main Tags and Warnings: Modern AU, accountant!Cas, mechanic!Dean, hurt!Dean, Temporary Character Death, two-sided unrequited love, Pining, Major Character Injury, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff, First Kiss, Supernatural but Dean and Cas don't know about it, So much begging Summary: Dean is badly hurt after a bar fight and Castiel goes to see him only to find out that the news isn't good. However, supernatural forces are on their side. Castiel follows the doctor quickly, barely a pace behind him. It's as bad as he feared. What if he doesn't get the chance to tell Dean that he loves him. Even if Dean doesn't love him back. The room is reminiscent of a war zone. Several people are crowded around Dean's body. There's blood everywhere, machines going haywire and doctors barking orders. Castiel is frozen to the spot.

Don't Let Go | @envydean Rating: Mature Word Count: 28578 Main Tags and Warnings: EMT!Castiel, mechanic!Dean, alcoholic!Dean, Alcoholism, Car Accidents ,Hospitals, Recovery, PTSD, Descriptions of Injury, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Trying to fall in love Summary: Dean Winchester’s life is a mess. Ever since his father’s death, a downward spiral has seen his occasional beer become something of a crutch. Then, a revelation has him going to see his brother in California—except he doesn’t make it and ends up in a nasty accident, destroying the Impala. Air rescue paramedic, Castiel, and his partner Benny are the ones to pull him out of the wreck and that’s just the start of it. He forms a tentative friendship with Dean and manages to convince him he needs help and that he can be there for Dean. It should have been all uphill from there—because getting sober is easy, right?—except it isn’t and their relationship is thrown into turmoil at the wrong time. Slowly, they learn to accept each other once again.

Like Sands Through The Hourglass | BiP (AO3) Rating: General Word Count: 1643 Main Tags and Warnings: illness Summary: It's always Florida, and it's always witches.

Battle of Mind and Body | @light-in-my-darkness Rating: Explicit Word Count: 164466 Main Tags and Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Sexual Content, PTSD, Whump, Slow Build, Additional Warnings in Notes Summary: A confession. A car accident. A coma. The results of which lead Castiel and Dean on a destructive path. Their family and friends fight to alter that path, but without knowing the truth of that fateful night, they fear their efforts will fail. Determined to box up the pain and humiliation, Castiel falls into depression and self-harm. In the aftermath of that night, Dean confronts his own demons. Both the angel and the hunter struggle to repair the broken pieces of themselves. As they try, will the dark nature of their world stay at bay long enough for them to heal or will it shatter any progress they made?

Taker of Souls | jscribbles (AO3) Rating: Explicit Word Count: 128664 Main Tags and Warnings: temporary major character death, Minor Character Death, Pining, Slow Burn, non-con, dub-con, Blood, Gore, Body mutilation, Self Harm, zombie-type characters, Hallucinations, Nightmares, horror-imagery, shameless use of horror movie tropes, offensive language/insults, spoilers for The Witch ,the boys cry, Sickness, Sweat ,Mud, Possession, canon-calibre discussions of religion, the evil dead 2013 Crossover, Inspired By, Smut, minor prescription drug use, Vomiting, Summary: The angels have fallen. Castiel is human, Sam is recovering from the trials, and Dean doesn’t want to expose them to the world as it’s crumbling outside the bunker doors. To pass time in their solitude, Dean discovers a hidden room in the bunker full of dangerous magical artifacts and accidentally exposes his friends and family to an ancient horror. If Castiel thought adjusting to humanity was already a terror in itself, he experiences a world of pain when the ancient spirit Dean released chooses him as a vessel to fulfill its evil prophecy. Castiel begins to change as voices call out to him in the night and take the form of the one righteous man he desires, temptation drawing him to complete a ritual that will allow one of Hell’s most feared ancient entities to occupy his vessel. Before Sam, Dean, Kevin and Crowley know what is happening, they are thrown into a lockdown, unable to escape the bunker as the cruel, twisted monster inside of Castiel prowls the hallways, hunting them, thirsty for their blood, hungry for their souls.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Hullo! Please could I get a 1 or a 23 for Shakarian? 😁

Somehow you SENSED that I spent all of yesterday looking at gifs of my favorite battle couple to calm down in the financial aid office, congratulations on being psychic.  This got very long.  

For this headcanon meme!  Also specifically I’m using Gabriel Shepard from this series I’ve been writing.

1. How do they fall asleep?  Wake up?  Any daily rituals?

As a pair of dedicated workaholics trying to save the universe, they sleep when and where they can get it--while they were hunting the Collectors, Garrus discovered that he had to keep a sharp eye out when Shepard came down to sit in the battery, or she might fall asleep on a counter or crate.  After they’re more formally together, they have a slightly more regular sleep schedule.  Turians have different sleep needs than humans, doing best on two or three three-ish hour naps rather than one long one--after Sovereign, and the fallout from Sovereign, Gabriel slept for fourteen hours and Garrus would have thought she’d died if not for the fact that Chakwas wasn’t concerned.  This means that it’s not uncommon for one of them to be up and the other to be asleep more than once during Normandy’s ‘night’ cycle, so they accommodate that.  

Basically what this means is that while they have perfected a good position for falling asleep together, it’s much more common for one of them to be sitting up doing work and the other to curl around them like a cat in their sleep.  Shepard is especially annoying about it, mostly because when she rolls over and ends up exactly where Garrus’ tablet needs to be, he can’t bring himself to wake her up.  Shepard, on the other hand, is perfectly happy to have Garrus asleep with his head pillowed on her stomach, because she can rest her tablet on his keel and have her very own lap desk.

In terms of waking up, when things are dire, they’re quick about it--they get up, get dressed, drink something caffeinated (fun fact: caffeine is an achiral molecule so therefore I declare them both diehard caffeine addicts), and roll out.  It’s the legacy of a lot of training on both parts, and a lot of recent nerve-frying paranoia.  When things are not dire, or when they’ve just resolved the immediate problem and thus lowered the urgency level a little, Garrus gets up first because, as Gabriel declares whenever asked, she’s Commander Fucking Shepard and she deserves to sleep in.  Garrus makes her coffee to his best ability (passable) and once even tried his hand at breakfast (unsuccessful) and eventually comes to heckle her into getting up.  That conversation is usually something like:

Garrus: “Come on, you have a call with Anderson in an hour.  Get up or I’ll make you get up.”

Shepard: *mumbling*

Garrus, laughing: “What did you just call me?”

Shepard, cracking an eye to look at him: “I said, come back with a warrant, you fucking cop.”

And then she drags him down into bed with her.

23. How do they hug?  Kiss?  Tease?  Flirt?  Comfort?

Turians are not...intrinsically huggable beings, but humans are, and Garrus came around real fast.  He likes to pull Shepard into his lap so that he can wrap himself around her fragile skin and bones like armor.  Shepard, who hasn’t been the recipient of regular touching since Akuze, takes a while to get used to it (can you spell touch-starved), but it’s...nice, she’ll admit that.  It’s nice to have someone’s hand on her just because she’s there and they want to, without ulterior motive or threat of violence.  And Garrus likes to be touching her when he can, he likes to know she’s there with him and alive and kicking, he likes to have an arm on her shoulder or a hand in hers or, yeah, a hug.  Everyone on Normandy gets used to the fact that, when they’re relaxed and informal, Shepard tends to end up in Garrus’ lap after the first few hours.  

Speaking of things that turians aren’t really built for, proper kissing is mostly a moot point.  Garrus does it because Shepard clearly finds it charming, the way he’ll bump his mouth against the crown of her head in a fond gesture, and Shepard kisses his jaw or his cheek plate when he bends down enough (or the back of his neck if he’s sitting down, she likes to watch him jump), but what humans would class as “making out” is kind of a nonstarter.  Turians press their browplates together to show affection, so Garrus and Shepard do that as well--this feeds into Garrus’ fondness for having Shepard on his lap because, if she’s facing him, it puts them on roughly even footing so that they can be face-to-face.  One time he admitted this to Gabriel and, on the one hand, she has not stopped calling him a sap since, but on the other hand, she makes a point to drop down into his lap a lot more since he said it, so he will take the win.

In terms of teasing, they’ve been getting the Old Married Couple snark down pat since day one.  Gabriel took cheap shots at Garrus’ work repairing the Mako, he made cracks about her driving, and it pretty much went on that way from there.  They’re both insufferably smug whenever they pass the other on their kill count, and when they’re on the losing end, they’re both more than ready to “helpfully” point out problems with combat style that make the other person’s win somehow not legitimate (”Just because you can bull rush the Guardians doesn’t mean you should”//“Does it even count if I bought you the gun and all its upgrades?”).

In terms of flirting, well, honestly the teasing covers a lot of it, and they’re both hopelessly awkward when they try to flirt (the only reason they ever got anywhere is because of the impending threat of death, to be honest), but also three shots of some kind of liquor under good circumstances will make both of them suddenly proficient at bad pickup lines.  Tali has thus far collected about a twenty minute video compilation of it, which she plans to use as blackmail when an opportune moment comes up.

Neither of them is really any good at being comforted.  Gabriel usually needs to talk it out--often with alcohol--and honestly a lot of Garrus’ coping mechanisms involve shooting something to calm down before he deals with it.  Fortunately, Shepard is always game to go roust a Cerberus outpost or hit a shooting range so that they can decompress a little, and then they usually go back to the Normandy for the alcohol and talking part of it all.  Gabriel tends to lock up when people try to comfort her and Garrus doesn’t like being seen to be in distress by people he doesn’t trust completely, and while those match up well, it also means that it’s not uncommon for everyone to think they’re completely fine through an entire mission, followed by the two of them having a bit of a breakdown the second they’re behind closed doors.  Weirdly this was early bonding material for them, because they have very compatible patterns of “cope, fall apart, pick yourself up, go back to coping”.

The exception to this rule is nightmares.  If one of them wakes up from a nightmare and the other one is there, they’ll curl up together until everyone’s heart rate slows down again.  No talking, just touch.  If they feel like talking afterward, fine, but there’s an unspoken rule that nightmares never get discussed right away.

[akocomyk]

Twenty-eight books read in 2019.  Sixteen longlisted books.  One person who wastes his time writing sh*t as if they really matter.

Here it is.  The best books I read in the past year.

HONORABLE MENTIONS

The unfortunate books that I had to let go since I only had ten spots to fill.

Turtles All the Way Down by John Green (2017)

Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie (1934)

History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera (2017)

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie (1926)

Bird by Bird by Anne Lammott (1994)

The Silkworm by Robert Galbraith (2014)

*Ratings range from 1 to 5, with 5 being the highest

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

10th Place

56 by Bob Ong (2018)

Rating: 4.300

Bob Ong makes a comeback on my list with his latest novel.  His other book, Si, ranked 10th last 2015.  This is the second time a Filipino book enters the list and is also the second nonfiction book ever—after Into the Wild last 2016.

In his latest release, Ong returns to the writing style that made him famous— reminiscent of his earlier books like ABNKKBSNPLAko.  56 is like a 300-page commentary or editorial about the issues of the present Filipino generation.

Other readers have found the book a little too preachy.  I find it enlightening as it serves as a wake-up call to the Filipinos who are turning their blindsides to the harsh realities of our nation.

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

9th Place

Mga Kirot ng Kapalaran (Kikomachine Komix blg. 11) by Manix Abrera (2015)

Rating: 4.445

This is a long-overdue recognition to my favorite comic strip artist (Fun Fact: I met him quite a few times already).  For many years, I've ignored the chance to even put his works in the list of contenders.  I'm not throwing it away again.  Now, I have my first book to enter the top 10 classified under comics and graphic novels.

In this collection of strips by Manix Abrera, his work remains as humorous and as satirically laughable as the first time I saw his comic. Themes have changed to reflect the new trends and issues of our present society.

For as long as Manix draws and publishes his work, I will continue to read them as I know he gives an intellectual yet amusing input to our society's problems.

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

8th Place

Mga Batang Poz by Segundo Matias, Jr. (2018)

Rating: 4.450

“Beautiful and relevant, but not flawless,” this is what I said on my review for this YA novel.

Mga Batang Poz is the third Filipino book on this list.  Having three books on the list is a first.  Furthermore, this is also the first time in four years that a Filipino book enters the list.

As previously mentioned, I have certain problems with regard to the overarching narrative of the novel.  I wish that Matias could’ve written something more elaborate or something that doesn’t feel forced.

Nevertheless, the book accomplishes its goal of being a story that advocates HIV awareness, especially towards the youth.

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

7th Place

The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate (2012)

Rating: 4.485

In this book, you'll see both the cruelty and the compassion of humanity through the eyes of a gorilla named Ivan who is the narrator of the story.

Ivan is based on a real-life gorilla who was being used as a live animal attraction in Zoo Atlanta.

It is quite obvious that the book is meant for a younger audience, but despite this, I know anyone of any age will be able to appreciate it.  Ivan is a gorilla after all, and I think the simplicity of how it was written suits his character, making the tone of the story more natural.

Overall, it was very touching.  Although it mirrors pretty much what happened to the real-life Ivan, it efficiently delivers its message for animal welfare.

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

6th Place

And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie (1939)

Rating: 4.525

This is a mystery novel filled with suspense and everything that'll make you love and hate it at the same time.  The horror it gives chills you to the bone for every page you turn.

Agatha Christie is insane—and I mean that in a good way.  The plot was so well-thought out that even when nearing at the end, I had no clue who the culprit was.  When it was revealed to me, I was like, “Yeah.  That makes absolute f*cking sense.”

For a book that has ten major characters, it does well in handling them.  You know when a piece of literature is brilliantly made when even if its length isn’t considerably long, it doesn’t sacrifice the characters’ backgrounds and the narrative of the story.

Despite the novel’s inhumane and despicable acts, it also addresses issues about criminal injustices that are still prevalent today.  In our country alone, criminals—corrupt officials, master drug dealers, rapists, murderers—are still roaming around the streets, evading the consequences of their actions.   At times when the law is not enforced properly, people resort to their own type of justice.

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

5th Place

Darius the Great Is Not Okay by Adib Khorram (2018)

Rating: 4.590

In this debut novel by Adib Khorram, the titular character Darius suffers from clinical depression.  Also, he's a Star Trek and Lord of the Rings fan.

This book demonstrates the fact that real depression is not simply cured by positive reinforcement and bible verses—as what most overly religious people think.

The novel highlights Darius' relationship with the other characters—most especially with Sohrab.  It shows how he copes up with them while he struggles with his mental disorder.

There are also subtle hints of homosexuality, which added to the overall tension of the story since the main characters are Muslims.  It wasn't blatant but it was obviously present—in the right and necessary amount.

To me, this is a spiritual brother of Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz—one of my favorite books.  It gave me the same feeling of awe, beautiful pain, and joyful nostalgia. There were parts that broke my heart—I was ugly crying while riding a bus—and by the end, I was a complete mess, although I'm utterly happy.

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

4th Place

Moonrise by Sarah Crossan (2017)

Rating: 4.595

What I love most about this book is how it was written.  Instead of being in paragraphs, it was written in verses—like poetry.  I thought it was creative and oddly fitting for the story.

Even though there are more blank spaces on the pages than letters, those words are enough to draw me into the story.

The novel is about Ed whose brother was up on death row.  I found myself rooting for him, and I was hoping similarly to how he was hoping in the story.  When the end came, I couldn't help myself from closing my eyes.

The narrative was fairly simple, it matches the way it was written.  The characters—although few and also written with the utmost simplicity—feel so human and are not flat, cardboard cutouts.

In the light of all the flawed justice systems and abuses of law enforcers not just in America but everywhere else in the world, it's good to find a book that's bold enough to address such issues and an author who's brave enough to write them.

Lots of murderers are on the loose, yet there are innocent people being slaughtered for crimes they didn't commit.

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

3rd Place

On the Come Up by Angie Thomas (2018)

Rating: 4.605

Just when you thought Angie Thomas couldn't write anything as good as The Hate U Give (THUG), she gives us this.  If it's not better, then it sure is as brilliant as her debut novel.

This is Thomas' second consecutive year in my list, with THUG bagging the top plum last year.

The novel is proof of Thomas’s writing prowess.  It successfully immersed me into the life of her protagonist, a life filled with hope, angst, and ambition.  And the dialogue… Especially the rap battles.  They were amazing.  Seeing as Thomas herself was a rapper, you can feel the ingenuity in her words.

Moreso, this is one book that we really need in our present times.  It reflects all of my sentiments regarding social media and how it can make or break a person.  And how much the oppressed and marginalized communities lack representation, and how they are still subject to much prejudice.

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

2nd Place

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini (2007)

Rating: 4.680

This beautiful novel demonstrates the horror of domestic violence towards women.  It also provides a glimpse of the people and culture of Afghanistan during the times of war.

I'm in love with how Khaled Hosseini's characters flesh out from the pages.  You'd love them.  You'd care for them.  Their agony becomes yours.  Their pain drips out from the corners of the books as your tears trail down your cheeks.

And on their sweet, small victories, you'd give a sigh of relief as the anxiety is slowly drained from your body.

In the two years that I've read a book by Hosseini, it didn't fail to shatter my heart. The Kite Runner ranked first in my 2017 list, and now this. If ever get to read another one of his books, I've no doubt it will also be a contender for that year's list.

━━━━ ☆ ━━━━

1st Place

Thunderhead by Neal Shusterman (2018)

Rating: 4.765

This book is also up on my shelf for the best sequels ever—be it for any medium.

I read this earlier this year and it remained unbeatable until 2019 ended.

This is the second book in Neal Shusterman's Arc of a Scythe trilogy, the sequel to Scythe—which placed 3rd in my 2017 list.

Growth and expansion. These are the things I love about the sequel.  Ronan and Citra, the two main protagonists of the trilogy, are older, wiser, and better people, despite the fact that they're teenagers.  You can feel their struggles with their respective endeavors.

Also, the universe is bigger.  The Arc of Scythe novels feature a world where death does not exist and everyone is biologically immortal.  In order to balance the earth’s population, there are these so-called Scythes whose life-long job is to assassinate anyone they choose.

In this sequel, you get to know more about the mechanisms of their world.  There’s a new main character, Grayson, who takes you deeper and gives you a view of what it's like to live as a normal human.

The book deals with the adverse effects of the ways power-hungry people want to achieve their ambitions.

But that's not why I went gaga after reading the book.

IT.  WAS.  EPIC.  The plot twists within the plot twists.  The narrative.  And the ending.  My god, that ending.  I COULD HEAR MY SILENT SCREAMS.  After the last page, the only thing I thought of was, "GIVE ME THE THIRD BOOK RIGHT NOW!"

Thunderhead isn’t flawless, but it’s a very fine piece of literature that I recommend to anyone who loves to read.

• • • • •

I hope I won't regret putting Thunderhead in first place after a few years.  I regret giving the top spot to I'll Give You the Sun last 2016.  After pondering about the books I've read in the past years, I've found that Anthony Doerr's All the Light We Cannot See is one remarkable and memorable book, and the one I should've given the highest honors.

Books with relevant themes dominated my shelf but the book that won my heart was the one with intricate plots and a phenomenal ending.  It feels weird but I hope for the best.

Happy New Year, everyone!

[amwritingmeta]

14x14: Noah as Representative of Suppression/Repression

Dean, Sam, Cas and Jack are all at a crossroads. How huge that crossroads is and how long they’ll be stood at it, weighing their options, remains to be seen, but Yockey firmly placed them there in this episode and he did it, to my mind, through using Noah as the needed tool to up the stakes, as it were.

I wrote in an ask response about one side to Noah’s representative qualities in the narrative, where I can see his boredom with the same old routine (his fate, as he calls it) to be a reflection of Dean’s boredom with casual sex and subtle exposition of exactly why Dean hasn’t been engaging with it for so long: he craves something more satisfying. (because he’s in love) 

And though Noah is violent, he’s not violent for the sake of violence, the way Michael is shown to be at the end of this very same episode, and as such Noah isn’t, for me, a representative of toxic masculinity. Mostly because Michael so firmly holds onto that title, but also because of Noah’s distaste for having to cook humans for supper. He’d rather not, but nature left him the choice of this or death. And he’s not going to sacrifice himself, which, as far as the natural order goes, is fairly understandable.

(he’s not a human eating other humans) (he’s a demigod requiring humans for sustenance) (there’s a crude but real difference to the two concepts)

The fact that Noah isn’t a toxic masculinity representative, though, is extremely significant to me.

So, in this post I’d like to outline my thoughts on the second side to Noah’s representative qualities, as I see them, and talk a bit about the deeply ingrained patterns of suppression/repression that exists in each of our main characters.

Definitions -->

Suppression is a psychological term for when we consciously push down unwanted thoughts or urges. Used healthily this is where self-control lies, but when an unwanted emotion or urge is ignored out of fear, this suppression tactic can turn into a pattern of behaviour that may lead to unhealthy coping mechanisms (like drinking, casual sex, violent outbursts, addiction to danger etc) *side eye Dean Winchester* and irrational behaviour and lack of self-control due to lack of self-awareness.

Repression is a psychological term for when we push down unwanted thoughts, urges or very often memories into our unconscious, where our conscious mind is protected from having to deal with these particulars, because our conscious mind is kept wholly unaware that these particulars are a part of us. However, these repressed thoughts, urges or memories will push to be recognised, because anything we try to simply forget, that is deeply affecting, will never stay forgotten, and being unable to confront these buried thoughts, urges or memories may result in unhealthy outlets, such as the coping mechanisms and irrational behaviour mentioned above.

Noah

Though what exactly the gorgon represents truly is up for interpretation, the simple facts are:

Noah the gorgon in and of himself is a snake symbol, and per the ouroboros of the title, the snake symbolism in 14x14 might be leaning towards renewal, rebirth and a conjoining of opposites rather than, you know, the snake that brought knowledge to mankind and helped us rebel........ Yeah, kinda good either way you look at it, no?

Noah also Biblically brought the flood, which is a mighty symbol of rebirth, so he’s this double-edged sword where both edges spell renewal

Noah looks at you, assesses you and sees the truth of you, established with the truck driver, his note to Dean and with Jack - a bit of a narrative tie to Michael in 14x01, who blasted onto the scene reading the truth of people’s motivations left and right, and subtle foreshadowing of how Michael will shed Dean, and go looking for a new skin *shudder’

Noah enjoys both men and women (yes indeed bisexual symbol and nope I am not the first to point this out of course)

That’s the basic makeup of Noah’s demigod character, yeah?

Now, there’s a lot of moments in this episode that, to me, highlight the suppression/repression tendencies in TFW 2.0 and push for the much needed confrontation these moments lead into with Noah, as well as the repercussions that follow this very confrontation, culminating in the deaths at the bunker and Jack’s standoff with Michael.

Self-deception, thy collective face is Three Men and I’m Not a Baby -->

Sam

Darling Sam. He is so deep in his suppression of his superficial fear of how everything is not at all fine or okay, as well as in his deeply repressed fears that go back years and are a part of his identity makeup, that he can’t even stand a fair questioning from someone who knows a great deal about exactly the situation he’s putting himself in, as she later even points out in dialogue.

Sam leans heavily on the belief that everything will work out in the end, as long as they think it will, and his behaviour is, to me, a very sharp critique of the blinding power of the codependency, because the innate fears (repressed fear of failure and loss of identity) that has kept the codependency at the heart of how Sam and Dean relate themselves to each other is what is making Sam incapable of taking a step back and assessing their situation with any clarity. 

Instead, he recites the age old belief system and shuts himself off from questioning it in any way:

Dean will be okay, because Dean has to be okay. 

Jack is fine, because Jack has to be fine.

Sam’s loyalty to Dean is what makes Sam insist on Dean coming home after Sam talks Dean out of getting in that box, and then that same loyalty makes Sam insist on them acting as though everything is normal, thinking this is the only way he can support Dean, because this is how Dean has always handled every situation. 

But Sam in a leader position should think of the safety of those following him, he should see the very real threat of Michael getting free, and should take steps to protect the innocent people who end up dying at the hands of Michael.

I’m not saying their deaths are Sam’s fault, because Sam didn’t tell Michael to kill them, but their deaths are a narrative punishment for Sam’s inability to see past old patterns and learn from old mistakes.

Sam takes a huge risk bringing Dean back to the bunker, especially after he’s knocked out cold in this episode and even Cas can’t see what the hell is going on in his head, and if Sam wasn’t blinded by the patterns of the codependency, he might not have made that executive decision to begin with.

Btw, I’m also not prescribing the brothers shouldn’t have each other’s backs or should look at every dangerous situation with cold calculation, but when the lives of a group of innocent people are at stake, taking that step back and seeing the bigger picture might be preferable for everyone involved. 

Sam’s suppression/repression of his fears, and his inability to confront the fact that his fear of failure is keeping him tethered to his brother (because he’s using Dean’s presence as a security blanket, even when Sam’s the one in the leader position) is manifested through the fact that Sam can’t stop Noah, representative of suppression/repression.

Noah tosses Sam across the room like he’s made out of tissue paper because Noah represents all those things that are continually kicking Sam’s ass and making him run from taking real responsibility. 

And the way for Sam to shoulder individual responsibility and move towards his true identity, an identity that in no way is defined by his relationship to Dean? 

Well, to my mind, Sam needs to dare to believe that he’s a good and strong leader in his own right.

Sam has a default attitude of We Can Fix This Together, which is good, but that attitude without sound leadership and realistic risk assessment is bad. 

He’s the born leader. Once he’s balanced and begins to realise that teamwork still requires a strong team leader, he’ll be fucking golden.

*so Sam stating in 14x15 that he has to stop running made my heart sing* *hoping it sticks*

Dean

Dean, Dean, Dean. This episode made it very clear that he’s still very much not believing at all that there’s any way Sam and Cas can find a way to defeat Michael. He says to Cas that he promised to give them time, meaning Dean’s not part of this taking time deal. This is weighty af, because of course he’s the only one who can actually find another way, if he only dared try.

But he doesn’t dare to, because he’s completely ruled by his fear of failure, just like Sam is, only for Dean, it’s always all on him. 

If Michael gets free on his watch, it’s his fault, and he’d rather just go drop himself in the ocean than work as a team with people who might, and to his mind most likely will, get hurt in the process.

Dean’s risk assessment is always on red alert and there’s rarely any hope or trust in him - at least not on an unconscious, deeper level - that the outcome won’t be the worst case scenario, especially not now, with Michael pounding against his frontal lobe. 

Dean walks around not with a death wish, but with an acknowledgement that he’ll die on the job and with the conviction that what he wants is to go down swinging, and this conscious, defeatist attitude goes against his unconscious, true wish: to live a long and happy life.

His suppressed/repressed fears make even the thought of an actual future impossible.

His suppressed/repressed fears that are tied to his toxic masculinity armour and manifested in the toxic masculinity representative of Michael, ie Dean’s shadow-self.

And in this episode we have Dean incapable of facing his shadow-self for fear of what facing his shadow-self will mean for his ego, ie his conscious view of himself and his understanding of his own identity. 

So instead of facing his shadow-self and engaging in what Carl Jung calls shadow work, Dean has locked his shadow-self away and is, basically, holding onto Plan B, which is the equivalent of him running from the need to own up to fears that have been informing his way of relating himself to the world for far too long, and they’ve done so because rather than risk his long-held idea of who he is and who he’s been taught he needs to be (in order to keep Sam and the world safe), he’s going to put himself in a (societal) box and symbolically drown even the hope of finding internal balance.

This absolute and continued refusal to commit to change, to let go of his suppression as well as his repression of fears that have ruled him from much too young an age, lands him in a moment when facing off with the representative for that suppression/repression - Noah - brings about the narrative punishment of Dean’s worst fears coming to pass: losing his control and Michael breaking free because of it.

This punishment comes about because of the fact that Dean hasn’t been able to internally engage in shadow work, and the suppression/repression he’s engaged with instead now doing what it’s always done, which is take away Dean’s control and allow for his shadow-self to not only break free, but to actually manifest externally and wreak havoc.

But that’s not all. Oh, no.

I’ll talk about Jack a little further down.

Cas

Oh, Cas. At this point his identity confusion reaches a never before seen peak.

I mean, holy fuck, this moment is the moment when his rejection of his angel heritage is put in proper dialogue, but this rejection combined with the impossibility for him to explore what would make him truly happy means that he is stuck in identity limbo.

Not angel, not man, but a thing.

*it’s heartbreaking and stupidly exciting*

Cas is suppressing his longing for more because of his repressed fear of failure (among other fears), and this because his fear of failure is what’s crept up on him over the course of his individual arc, where he’s kept trying to help, and at every turn has faced a bigger and bigger failure, until it became impossible for him to see himself having any other use than to act the sacrificial lamb and constantly throw himself in the path of danger, without even thinking to ask himself if it was what he truly wanted for himself. 

In S4 Cas stated to Dean that he wasn’t just a hammer, but over the course of his individual arc, Cas has slowly made himself into the weapon, this when deep down he’s always been the shield, and he is innately the protector. 

Moving away from Heaven’s doctrine is essential for Cas’ character progression, and the slow nudging over the course of the last two seasons has been rather fantastic to behold, but for all his progress, Cas is now giving into his repressed fear of failure and allowing it to rule him.

Cas is choosing to maintain the status quo, and it’s gloriously frustrating to watch him simply accept the fact that he can’t ever be happy, when what he should be doing is engage in shadow work and question the validity of his shadow-self running the show.

Questioning his shadow-self and facing all those suppressed and deeply repressed fears, though, means the same as it does for Dean: answering the questions Who am I? and Who do I want to be? honestly, and for himself, and the prospect of his idea of himself having to evolve is a scary one, so no wonder he allows his shadow-self to dictate the terms.

Cas comes face to face with Noah and lo and behold, what happens is quite intriguing as Noah slaps Cas twice on each cheek, almost as if to chastise him for sleepwalking through his life, and then Noah kisses Cas on the cheek, effectively paralysing him.

It comes across as a rather marvellous visual manifestation of how Cas’ suppression/repression of his own true wants and needs is paralysing him, leaving him complacent to a fate that he believes is inevitable.

But...

Jack

So then. Jack. This formidable knitting point. This gorgeous narrative tool. This amazing mirror for all of TFW, full of expositional prowess and symbolic value.

Aw Jack.

His fear has always been reflective of Sam, Dean and Cas, because even though he’s his own brand of innocent, he is meant to be a combination of the character traits of TFW, allowing him that expositional prowess, because his character evolution sheds light on the needed evolution of TFW.

*mh mh good*

Jack’s greatest fear is to bring suffering, but in this fear is the fear of failure, yes, that old fear, that’s so overwhelming in all of TFW. Jack wants to do good, and he tries so hard that we’ve seen how it’s sometimes difficult for him to separate good choices from bad ones.

In 12x19 he rejected Dagon and he rejected his father, choosing Cas as his protector and doing everything in his baby Nephi powers to protect his mother. Kelly’s motherly love shaped Jack into the caring and innocent being that he came into the world as, where that moment of his father reaching out to him, at the beginning of S13, frightened him, and where he continuously rejected Lucifer’s influence. 

What 14x14 so gorgeously sets up for us is underlining what Jack’s weakness at this point in his individual arc is: his refusal to acknowledge how he doesn’t know who he is yet. 

I’m not a child. I’m the son of Lucifer. I’m a hunter. I’m a Winchester.

The identity confusion in this statement is pretty amazing, to my mind, because where he’s spent so much time rejecting his father and the heritage of Lucifer, he’s now suddenly embracing it in dialogue and, even more than that, he’s using it as his first identity marker. Clearly he’s seeing himself moving into adulthood, his identity statement after all beginning with him telling us how he considers his childhood over.

And let’s note that his last identity marker is that he’s a Winchester.

Yeah, as 14x15 is already telling us, this probably doesn’t bode well, but I also believe it doesn’t bode well for now. 

The fact that he claims the Winchester name for his is also a very good thing for later, obviously, and one that will most likely be crucial when it comes to the resolution of what is most likely going to be his dark arc. It may last a few episodes or it may build to the end of the season, we shall see, but it seems fairly evident that it’s rapidly approaching.

In a sense, him taking Michael’s grace into himself is him moving from child to teenager, in another sense Jack declaring that he’s not a child is ironic, seeing how he truly needs guidance, now more than ever before.

I mean, he’s literally swallowed down the essence of the thing that’s tripped Dean up his whole life and, by proxy, Sam and ultimately Cas as well: toxic masculinity. 

This is no way to grow up, Jack.

And, of course -->

Jack losing his soul - even though it’s not all of it yet - is a callback to Sam being soulless in S6, where Sam had to confront the side to him that is able to distance itself and look at a situation through a wholly mercenary perspective, fuelling his sense of dependency as he suddenly had to question his own judgement, something that hampers him as a leader as well, hollowing out his sense of self-worth, making it wholly easier to follow than to lead

the possible setting up for Jack trying to help and managing to do the opposite, his growing powers possible sending him off the beaten track, might prove a strong callback to Cas for most of his arc, where his first mistake of becoming Godstiel paved the way for choices that led hollowed out Cas sense of self-worth, leading him into depression

the possible setting up for Jack’s shadow-self to rule him because of Jack swallowing down toxic masculinity is a callback to the MoC arc for Dean, where his lack of self-worth led him to become a demon, the scenario being his shadow-self manifesting his worst nightmare as Dean lost himself in careless, selfish, mindless coping behaviours, dominated by violence

As ever, we shall see how the writers choose to go, but I’m damned stoked.

This whole season has been saturated with the MoC arc of S10 and the MoC arc was all about pushing Dean to change and to evolve out of old, worn patterns. It was all about forcing a new perspective of himself on him, and a new understanding of what he wants for himself. (a long and happy life with the man he loves) And here we now are, with all of these characters facing their suppression/repression as well as the narrative consequences for none of them having properly grown up and grown into their true identities. 

The fact that they can still deceive themselves like this is shown to not be okay, as they’re all hit with equal punishment, all of which now rather neatly knots itself into the fate of Jack.

My hope?

That Jack’s choice to burn off his soul to protect the people he loves and swallowing Michael’s grace and beginning to feel different and possibly starting to go off the rails is the awaited push necessary for Sam, Dean and Cas to reach the point in their progression that it’s necessary they reach if they’re going to be able to get through to Jack, and ultimately guide him or, at the very least, be the role models he truly needs.

Because right now, not a single one of them is anywhere near that point. Well, possibly Sam, as per 14x15, if he’s the first one of them to stop running.

Let’s remember that Jack was the one to chop off Noah’s head as well as put an end to Michael’s new world order: symbolically pretty heavy duty on the probable importance to the actual internal balance being reached for our three main characters, right?

Jack cut the head off two symbolical snakes in one episode.

Both of which were tied to the unhealthy habits of Sam, Dean and Cas.

It’s beautifully setup, whatever happens, and I can’t wait to see what we get!

[thebluelemontree]

Do you like Willas x Sansa ?? Yes the Tyrells wanted her for her claim, but I think we are supposed to believe the things said about Willas and that he is indeed a good man. He is set up as different as the other Tyrells ( He is friends with Oberyn while all the other Tyrells hate him) and Sansa certainly needed a break from all the abuse she has endured. She spent an entire chapter thinking about the idea of marrying him... I think this might pay off eventually but I'm not sure.

Willas as an individual is probably a decent guy from what little we know about him.  That information comes to us second hand, but I don’t think there’s a reason to doubt its veracity either.  Willas as an individual is not the problem though.  I don’t get the impression any of the Tyrell siblings are really bad people as individuals, so I don’t agree that he is the “different” one in that sense.  Yeah, he doesn’t hold a grudge against Oberyn as he sensibly shouldn’t and they exchanged some friendly letters, but when it comes to politics, revenge, and family interests they are not really friends either.  (I suspect bookish Willas was probably a little relieved at having the knightly career that was pushed on him too soon by his father ended early.  Now he could devote himself to the intellectual pursuits he enjoys without that pressure).  

The inescapable problem lies in that all the siblings were raised with the strict idea of an “our family interests first” mentality as much as the Lannisters, they just go about it differently for the most part.  This isn’t an usual mentality for any noble family, but the Tyrells and Lannisters are playing a much higher stakes game than the norm.  What lengths they are willing to go to win reflect that.  It was the Tyrells that cut off the food supply to KL causing the mass starvation and suffering of the smallfolk.  Then when Margaery arrives in the city, she comes handing out food and soaking up all the love and support of the people.  It’s not any less ruthless and exploitative just because their violence is hidden behind a virtuous and kind public face.  Margaery is not the problem though.  When it comes to her as an individual, Margaery probably would choose to be a kind and decent human being no better or worse than the average person.  I get that impression from Garlan as well in the way he treats Sansa.  Even hot-headed Loras can be courteous toward her.  But those are situations where it also doesn’t cost them anything to be nice or it is in their best interest to be nice.  The problem lies in what cause the Tyrell siblings serve and at what expense to other people, specifically Sansa in this case.  And the siblings we’ve met are clearly acting as a mutually-supporting unit when it comes to doing their part for House Tyrell.  They marry who they are told and fill the roles that advance their collective ambitions.  Why should I assume Willas would be exceptional just because he’s remained off page for now and we haven’t met him personally yet?  

 The plot to marry Sansa to Willas is not that different in essence than the Lannisters marrying Sansa to Tyrion.  It all revolves around the basic idea for Sansa’s claim.  Let’s just review exactly how Sansa becomes heir to Winterfell in the first place… oh yeah, the entire male line of her family has to be snuffed out first.  The Tyrell proposal comes before the Red Wedding, which they were not a part of, but they did at that point decide to side with the Lannisters against any other would be kings.  So anyone that marries Sansa for “her claim” has to be okay with (or be willing to hasten along) Robb’s demise and his line ended so they can pick at the carcass of House Stark like vultures.  This isn’t really a marriage we’re talking about, it’s an act of war.  Sansa is the daughter of the disgraced traitor Ned Stark, sister to the rebel pretender Robb Stark, and the king’s cast off.  She’s damaged goods and no one wants to associate with her or appear sympathetic to her at court.  Her claim is literally her only selling point as a prospective bride for these people.  Without a payoff to her claim, they gain nothing from the marriage.  

This fact is the elephant in the room.  It’s not any less true just because Sansa doesn’t realize what they are up to at first as Sansa has never considered herself in line to inherit.  We see this is absolutely the case as they drop her like a hot potato as soon as they don’t have access to her claim anymore with her ambush marriage to Tyrion.  Their highly conditional friendship and support was withdrawn.  Even Garlan and his wife, Leonette, who seemed to be expressing concern at first for Sansa’s well-being only advised acceptance of her situation in the end and to try to see the best in her new husband.  So at the very best, there’s a little bit of sympathy, but not enough to move any Tyrell to help her in a meaningful way.  Sansa is just the kind of person though that is grateful for any crumb of kindness, but let’s be real, they were planning on using her in the exact same way for the same reasons.  They just did it with honey instead of threatening her with violence.        

I would suspect much like Tyrion that Willas would be far from stupid about the implications of marrying Sansa for her claim.  As an individual, Willas might find exploiting Sansa in such a way distasteful, but he could also rationalize it as Tyrion does by trying to be kind and gentle with her in other ways.  So what if he wouldn’t physically abuse Sansa?  So what if he would treat her with bare minimum human decency?  So what if he might make a good faith effort to give her as comfortable a life as possible?  That’s only glossing over the underlying truth that Sansa’s worth is inextricably tied to Robb’s death.  Willas doesn’t get to be the good guy or “different” from the rest of his family if he would also be complicit in serving their shitty self interests at her and her loved ones’ expense.  That’s not kind or doing the right thing by Sansa.  You don’t get to have it both ways and I think the narrative is pretty clear on that.                  

I don’t see the time she spends contemplating Willas as that being where Sansa’s heart truly lies.  Any sane person would give that option serious thought if your only choices are between that, placing your trust in the hands of an alcoholic slob, or to continue being the prisoner of your violent, sadistic ex.  Is that a sight unseen based only on the word of people she just met choice Sansa would make freely on her own if she wasn’t strapped to the ticking time-bomb that is Joffrey?   

We have to remember Sansa is being sold on the idea of Willas, so of course his good qualities (even if they are completely true) are being overly emphasized to gain her cooperation when it comes time to spirit her away.  They are playing up how gentle and docile of a man he is, because they know Joffrey is not those things.  If you recall, all her initial enthusiasm was reserved for when she briefly thought they were offering her a match to Loras, who was already her crush.

The words came tumbling out of her. "Yes. I will. I would like that more than anything. To wed Ser Loras, to love him . . ."

Her instinctive reaction reveals that having passion for her husband is still an important component of marriage for her.  She’s 100% on board not because she’s thinking “gee, Loras is so docile and harmless,” but because she finds him so damn hot and he stirs her passion.  His youthful vigor and athleticism excite her.  Sansa likes her men just a bit rowdy as well as gallant; however, when she learns it’s Willas they are proposing, her heart sinks and she starts getting very worried and hesitant.  She doesn’t know Willas just as she didn’t know Joffrey.  Margaery’s job thereafter is to bond with Sansa and keep assuring her that Willas is the greatest, sweetest, most harmless guy ever. 

Let me just digress a bit... I totally see why some readers would find this appealing.  But consider other than hawking maybe, she and Willas don’t have much in common from what we know so far.  He enjoys academic studies and nerding out over strategically breeding the best hawks and horses.  There is nothing wrong with that, but those aren’t Sansa’s interests and they are more individual pursuits.  She does like some animals, but she doesn’t care for horses and riding.  She’s definitely academically smart, but for fun she enjoys music, dance, poetry, fashion, and being a social butterfly.  I could see Sansa and Willas liking each other and having a sort of companionate, pleasant enough marriage, but do I think she would naturally fall in romantic love with him or he with her?  No.  I would see them living basically separate lives with only their children in common.  Okay, back to Sansa’s thoughts on Willas after the proposal...

Sansa then begins to start selling herself on the idea of Willas as she is faced with the prospect of marriage to a stranger in exchange for escaping her abusers.  On the surface it seems like she is willing and very happy, but there is an underlying feeling of doubt and trepidation that she is trying to silence.  Once she makes her decision to go ahead with the Tyrells, the only psychologically tolerable course of action is to convince herself everything is FINE and that she is freely giving her enthusiastic consent to the match.  It’s not as easy for her to do as it once was with looking past some of Joffrey’s disturbing behavior.  There’s a lot of struggle with this one. 

         I’ve already mentioned that she’s primarily motivated to accept because of the pressure of Joffrey’s escalating abuse as more time goes by.  Other factors in how Sansa thinks about Willas include:

She is terribly lonely and isolated as she is the daughter of a traitor that no one wants to associate with.  She seems more seduced by the feelings of sisterhood and family that Margaery gives her than the idea of Willas.   

Her own mother and father role modeled a happy marriage despite being arranged.  Sansa, being at heart an optimist, holds out hope this could work out for the best if she makes it work.    

She fears offending the Tyrells by not appearing sufficiently keen on Willas as they are highly influential and powerful.  “Loras?” Lady Olenna sounded annoyed. “Don’t be foolish, child. Kingsguard never wed. Didn’t they teach you anything in Winterfell? We were speaking of my grandson Willas. He is a bit old for you, to be sure, but a dear boy for all that. Not the least bit oafish, and heir to Highgarden besides."                                  Sansa felt dizzy; one instant her head was full of dreams of Loras, and the next they had all been snatched away. Willas? Willas? "I,” she said stupidly. Courtesy is a lady’s armor. You must not offend them, be careful what you say. “I do not know Ser Willas. I have never had the pleasure, my lady. Is he … is he as great a knight as his brothers?”

Her anxieties and dissatisfaction with the way Dontos is handling their initial escape plan.  By comparison, the Tyrell’s plan just seems more reliable and competent at succeeding, despite her doubts.  

The way Sansa sells herself on Willas is very telling.   

Sometimes she would whisper his name into her pillow just to hear the sound of it. “Willas, Willas, Willas.” Willas was as good a name as Loras, she supposed. They even sounded the same, a little. What did it matter about his leg? Willas would be Lord of Highgarden and she would be his lady.She pictured the two of them sitting together in a garden with puppies in their laps, or listening to a singer strum upon a lute while they floated down the Mander on a pleasure barge. If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon, and raise them all to be as valiant as Ser Loras. And to hate Lannisters, too. In Sansa’s dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya.

She could never hold a picture of Willas long in her head, though; her imaginings kept turning him back into Ser Loras, young and graceful and beautiful. You must not think of him like that, she told herself. Or else he may see the disappointment in your eyes when you meet, and how could he marry you then, knowing it was his brother you loved? Willas Tyrell was twice her age, she reminded herself constantly, and lame as well, and perhaps even plump and red-faced like his father. But comely or no, he might be the only champion she would ever have.  – Sansa II, ASOS.

I must take [the new gown] with me to Highgarden. She wanted to look beautiful for Willas Tyrell. Even if Dontos was right, and it is Winterfell he wants and not me, he still may come to love me for myself. Sansa hugged herself tightly, wondering how long it would be before the gown was ready. She could scarcely wait to wear it. – Sansa II, ASOS

“You are very beautiful, my lady,” the seamstress said when she was dressed.“I am, aren’t I?” Sansa giggled, and spun, her skirts swirling around her. “Oh, I am.” She could not wait for Willas to see her like this. He will love me, he will, he must … he will forget Winterfell when he sees me, I’ll see that he does. – Sansa III, ASOS.

Sansa is trying very hard to imagine herself with Loras Willas, but she is definitely policing her own thoughts and feelings here.  She tells herself she must never reveal her feelings for Loras as it might upset Willas and the offer of their protection may be rescinded.  “He might be the only champion she would ever have,” so she must bury any reluctant feelings and pretend Willas is the only man she has eyes for.  She makes herself fantasize about how great it’s going to be being the lady of Highgarden to make married life to Willas more convincingly palatable for herself; however, by her own admission, she can’t maintain that fantasy without it dissolving into the truth of who she would rather be with.  I don’t get any sense Sansa is hopeful she will truly love Willas, but that’s not important.  Making him love her is.  Her safety and security depend on it.  And she must ensure that she is so physically attractive and so palatable to Willas, that he will “forget about Winterfell.”  So yes, she is consciously worried that she’s going from one bad situation to another.  She doesn’t want another family to take Winterfell from hers ever, which is why she expresses such determination to make him love her so deeply that the idea being complicit in harming her family would be unthinkable.  This is not love.  It’s a strategy for survival.

This is just so fucking sad honestly and as a product of her upbringing, it is one of the few tools available to her in a situation where she will be effectively powerless.  Sansa is betting everything on Willas and she knows she must earn her keep with being the perfect, pleasing wife.  Beautiful, accommodating, whatever makes him happy, never rocking the boat, never letting on there is another man she prefers, and above all giving him heirs.  Sansa truly wants to be loved for the person she is and she does hope that will end up being the case with Willas, but for all that reassuring self-talk she’s not leaving anything to chance either.  Despite her naivete and trusting nature, I think Sansa’s thinking reveals she has a pretty accurate sense of what is expected of her in return for the Tyrell’s help and she is already devising a strategy on how she can steer Willas away from claiming Winterfell.       

So no, I don’t think this is a good match for her at all.  I don’t even think it makes sense story wise.  Sansa’s trajectory is taking her father and farther north to re-establish her roots and identity.  We get no such impression that Willas is going to be leaving Highgarden anytime soon with the Ironborn invading the Reach or that Sansa is going to entertain the idea of going south again.  There’s really nothing to write home about here.  Once Sansa is among allies loyal to the Starks, such a marriage option (in the unlikely event it ever gets brought up again) doesn’t offer her any advantages at that point.  She won’t be the same helpless hostage with limited choices in need of protection from the Lannisters.  I think that ship sank before it even left the dock and Sansa herself never once thought about Willas since she escaped KL.  She can’t even fantasize about Loras anymore once she accepts that no Tyrell would ever give Alayne Stone the time of day.  In her true hour of need when she could have really used their help and moral support, the Tyrells abandoned her.  So even if the idea of marrying Willas came up again, I think Sansa doesn’t even have to think about it.  It’s going to be a hard pass.           

[noditchablepromdate]

A consideration of the muse via TV Tropes

//Mun comments: these are based on my interpretation of and headcanons for the muse, not just canon events.

Appearance/Physical

American Accents - though Bobby himself is from South Dakota, his accent definitely hints towards a more typically southern redneck. Badass Beard - one of his most distinctive features.  Blue Eyes - sometimes Icy Blue Eyes. Generally when he’s getting particularly enraged. Nice Hat - Bobby is almost never seen without one of his beloved trucker caps.  Older Than They Look - Bobby is in his late fifties when the Winchester boys show up asking for help, and by the Apocalypse he’s sixty. He’s grizzled and clearly not in his prime any more, but is still younger-looking, tougher and much more physically capable than a guy his age would usually be. Seriously Scruffy - Bobby’s usual outfit is heavily worn and frayed clothes - usually jeans, t-shirts and flannel - that he’s owned for a very long time.

Personality Traits

A Friend In Need / The Reliable One - One of Bobby’s defining traits is that no matter what, if someone calls on him for help, he will do whatever it takes to give that help. Even if he’s freaking DEAD. Badass Grandpa - Bobby’s out there fighting evil well into his sixties. Brutal Honesty - He doesn’t really do sugar-coating very well, so if he’s presented with something and asked his opinion he will often be very blunt about what he thinks of it. Catch Phrase - His go-to swearword is “Balls!” and he often expresses his annoyance (or affection) by calling someone an “idjit”.  Character Alignment - Chaotic Good. Bobby gives absolutely zero fucks about legal or illegal, but he’s absolutely committed to helping the fight against evil and is basically a decent and kind person. Combat Pragmatist - He doesn’t fight in a bid to impress anybody, he just aims to take his opponent down and make them stop fighting back as fast as possible, and has no qualms about fighting dirty to get the result. Crazy-Prepared / Properly Paranoid - Bobby regularly doses visitors with holy water, keeps guns to fire several different types of monster-slaying ammunition, and has built a panic room in his basement, made of solid iron coated with salt, that is demon- and spirit-proof. He has also made several copies of all his priceless books and stashed them in safehouses around the country, just in case something happens to the collection in his house. And he does it all because he knows it could happen. He’s even described himself as a “paranoid bastard”. Deadpan Snarker - A fundamental aspect of his personality. No matter what situation, he usually manages to come up with a sarcastic or snarky quip. This can lead to Snark-To-Snark Combat breaking out, especially if it’s Crowley he’s talking to. Determinator - He just will not lie down and die. Even when a bullet to the head puts him in a coma, he spends the entire time evading and holding off the Reaper coming after him so he can warn Sam and Dean about the Leviathans’ plans. Encyclopaedic Knowledge - He’s done so much studying that he’s able to reel off facts about rare monsters, cast spells and recite exorcisms, and draw a number of sigils from memory.  Forgets To Eat / Must Have Caffeine - Bobby regularly stays up pulling all-nighters in order to do research for a fellow hunter, and in such cases will often subsist on strong coffee and/or caffeine pills. This has left him with a reliance on coffee that’s almost as bad as his drinking problem. Genius Bruiser - He looks and often acts like a typical dumb redneck, but spends most of his time at home with his books, doing research for others; when called on to join the fight directly, Bobby proves himself as capable of kicking ass as hunters half his age. Good Is Not Dumb - He might be on the side of the good guys, but Bobby sure as hell is not stupid. Good Is Not Soft / Good Is Not Nice - While he has dedicated his life to helping others and saving lives, and is gentle and caring to those in need, Bobby is also a cranky, short-tempered alcoholic who lives on his own and gives everyone, including the law, angels, and Satan himself an attitude. He’s also not likely to spare enemies out of the goodness of his heart, either - the few antagonists who manage to escape his retribution are usually the ones who talk the quickest and convince him they’re worth sparing. Otherwise he’ll finish them off without blinking. Grumpy Old Man - Has definite shades of this, though often as not he’s just playing it up, for the sake of a cover or to amuse people. Gut Feeling - Bobby’s instincts are usually spot on and he’s learned to rely on them reasonably heavily, to the point where he can usually guess within seconds if someone he knows is possessed by a demon or otherwise not actually themself. Of course, being paranoid, he’ll generally follow his guess up with a test to see how right he is. Handicapped Badass - During the year he spends wheelchair-bound; although he’s no longer able to actively hunt, his mind is as quick as ever and he’s still a crack shot. Jerk with a Heart of Gold - Famously bad-tempered, antisocial, yells at people who ask him for help and calls them stupid, regularly gets arrested and has no respect for... pretty much anyone. Also one of the key players in the attempt to head off the Apocalypse, who loves the weird little family he’s got with all his heart and will do anything for them. Knight In Sour Armor - Yeah, the world sucks and pretty much everything is horrible apart from a few little warm spots... but he’ll step up to fight for its right to exist time and time again, because that’s the right thing to do. Mr. Fixit - As well as earning his living as a mechanic and salvage yard owner, Bobby is able to turn his hand to a number of other practical skills; he’s successfully modified several guns to fire specialised ammunition, and built the panic room in his basement himself, during “a weekend off”. He’s also proven to be very capable when it comes to installing booby traps and surprises around his house, including a trapdoor outside the hall closet that drops straight into the basement and a specially strengthened basement door to keep whoever got dropped in from getting back out.  Nerves Of Steel - He’s faced down dozens, maybe hundreds, of monsters over the years, armed with a few weapons and his wits and, if he was really lucky, someone competent running backup. He’s even intervened in a showdown between the archangels Michael and Lucifer, though that didn’t go terribly well for him. Not much fazes him now. Old Master - Bobby has likely fought, researched and warded off more monsters than Sam and Dean put together, and is known to be THE person to go to if you need help tackling something you don’t recognise. Omniglot - He speaks several languages, including Japanese and Latin, and is able to decipher and translate a huge number of written languages. Only Sane Man - He often feels like this, especially after dealing with hunters who have managed to completely fail at displaying common sense. Physical Scars, Psychological Scars - Bobby has picked up scars from all sorts of monster encounters over the years, many of them reminders of what went wrong on the hunt. He also still has some old scars from his childhood, as his father used to beat him with a belt. Self-Surgery - Given he prefers to avoid the authorities unless it’s really serious, Bobby will generally patch himself up with needle, thread and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Street Smart - Studious as he can be, Bobby is also a capable survivalist and very savvy at bluffing his way into situations - or out of them. Taught By Experience / Seen It All - Bobby’s one of the best in the hunting community simply because he’s made it his business to be. He’s encountered monsters very few others have, he’s studied countless texts to find weaknesses nobody else knew about... and he’s closely linked to the Winchesters, who seem to get targeted by all the weirdest things out there. Which he takes as a learning opportunity. It’s not often he actually gets startled by something. Talented But Trained - He’s a very smart man, that’s absolutely certain, but many of his skills are what he’s picked up over a long, rough life, and he’s honed them till they’re sharp as a razor. The Alcoholic / Drowning My Sorrows - He’s turned to alcohol to cope with the horrific things he’s dealt with, from an abusive childhood to killing his possessed wife to the deaths caused because he wasn’t quite quick enough to take down the monster he was hunting. The Kirk - Usually plays this role between cool, logical Sam and hot-headed emotional Dean. Undying Loyalty - Literally, in his case; he takes lethal injuries several times, at least one of which was deliberately self-inflicted, and still keeps trying to help his boys in any way he can. Workaholic - He doesn’t often take a break from working, at least not for very long. Wouldn’t Hurt A Child / Friend To All Children - One of his more likeable traits - after the horrendous upbringing he had, Bobby will go above and beyond to make sure any kids he spends time around feel as safe as possible. He’s gentle, affectionate, and respectful of their thoughts and feelings, especially if their own parents are harsh.

Personal History

Abusive Parents / Alcoholic Parent - Bobby’s father Ed was a drunk who thought nothing of being verbally and physically abusive, punching his wife and regularly taking his belt to his son. By the time Bobby hit his teens, his mother was also blaming him for his dad’s violence. Back From The Dead - Bobby was killed by Lucifer while trying to help buy time for Sam to regain control of his own body. Castiel, newly resurrected himself, brought him back minutes later after the crisis was over. Bobby will occasionally refer to it as “that time I died” or something along those lines. Calling The Old Man Out - He finally snaps and intervenes with a rifle when his father begins beating his mother, demanding Ed leave her alone. When Ed taunts him and threatens to deal with him, Bobby pulls the trigger. Later in life, trapped in a coma, Bobby sees his father again in the memory and confronts him, fiercely claiming to be far better than Ed told him he was. Dead Partner - This applies to a number of Bobby’s old hunting friends who have died over the years, most notably John Winchester, Ellen Harvelle and Rufus Turner, all of whom he had a particular bond with. Deal With The Devil - Technicaly a deal with a demon, but the same principle. When Lucifer is on the verge of triumphing in the bid to start the Apocalypse, Bobby sells - or, technically, pawns - his soul to Crowley for the final key piece of information that gives them a fighting chance. He also regains the ability to walk, though that was more of a generous freebie on Crowley’s part. (Naturally, Crowley does not keep his side of the agreement, and later has to be threatened about it.) Fighting From The Inside - When possessed by a demon trying to kill Dean, Bobby manages to put up enough of a fight to turn the blade on himself. Hero Secret Service - Technically the hunting community could count as this. Although they are not organised and have no authority figures, Bobby is a major persona within the ranks. Only Child Syndrome - With no siblings around, Bobby took the full brunt of his parents’ abuse; he never really understood why, but his mother once hinted that he was too much hard work on his own for them to handle having another kid on top. Survivor Guilt - Regarding pretty much everyone he knows who gets killed. His attitude is always I should have done better.

Romance & Family

Badass Family - Adoptive version; anyone who spends a while around Bobby will absorb some of his personal badassness, even if they are already damn awesome themselves. First Love - Karen, the first woman he ever really loved, and whom he holds a torch for long after her death. Happily Married - With Karen. Until she finds out he doesn’t want to be a father... at which point they have a fight that never gets resolved, because she’s dead three days later. Honorary Uncle - To Sam and Dean as kids, and to most other hunters’ kids he spends any real time around, he was always “Uncle Bobby”. Ho Yay / Foe Yay - He and Crowley clash repeatedly, but all that snark-laden verbal fencing, long looks, moments of real vulnerability around each other... yeah, there’s definitely something going on there. Incompatible Orientation - One of Bobby’s main attempted defences against the attentions of a certain king of Hell. Like A Son To Me / Happily Adopted - Sam and Dean, who he played a large part in raising until their teens. Also counts for any of the other younger people he takes in and becomes a father figure to. Papa Wolf - Don’t mess with his kids. Just don’t. He will hurt you. Parental Substitute - To many of the young people he takes in or keeps an eye out for, particularly those who have had poor experiences with their childhood. He absolutely relishes being able to be a positive figure for a kid who needs it. Stalker With A Crush - This is how he tends to treat Crowley a lot of the time, especially when the demon’s being particularly flirtatious or overly attentive. Team Dad - To... well, pretty much everyone with the age or life experience to be considered a kid in his eyes. This includes the Winchesters, Jo Harvelle, several other hunters around their age, a freaking Vampire Slayer, and Castiel, an actual angel with the social savvy of a very sheltered gerbil.

[metamorpheus-blog1]

c h a r a c t e r + q u e s t i o n n a i r e

[ tw for: drug/alcohol use, death, mental illness ] 

Holy shit, why the fuck is this so long

BASICS

Full name: Marcus Christopher Russo

Any nicknames?: Morpheus, Mark, Marky, Russ, plus a slew of unflattering nicknames from old Army buddies that belong solely to that group of people. 

Age: 35 

Birthday/Zodiac sign: May 9th, 1982 // Taurus. Marcus has a majority of the typical Taurus traits: practical, dependable, down to earth. Regardless of his line of work, this isn’t a guy with a hair-trigger temper or the type to get his rocks off on on the violence in what he does, though he does have a very grim self awareness of just what kind of person he has to be to excel without apology at this job. That sense of strong commitment that keeps him nailed down to assignments with single-minded dedication tends to be a double-edged sword in the way it can overwhelm pretty much everything else and push it to the side in favor of finishing the task at hand. He’s the type that really needs and values internal stability in himself and others, which is BIG when it comes to why his lack of it is so self destructive. 

Height: 5′10. Taller guys, don’t talk shit.

Any tattoos, piercings?: 15 y/o Marcus had a bathroom + sewing needle variety of piercing in his left ear that has long since closed up and been forgotten. Cocky young recruit Marcus got the ‘onward to victory’ printed in neat stacked black script on his ribcage, right side, that he shares with three other recruits from his hometown (this phrase picked from several equally dramatic Big Damn Hero quotes they threw around, all freshly eighteen and very full of aspirations of being badasses), and under that, in ascending levels of freshness, are the month/year arrival and return dates for his three deployments. Deployment #1 has one small dot beside it, #3 has two, tallying those in his squadron ‘fallen in line of duty’, as much as he hates that term. There’s no ‘falling’ involved in an IED on the side of the road blasting you straight to hell but - ! Marcus’ bitterness internalized again, we move on to, of course, this classic number on his left forearm. 

FAVORITES

Sound: He likes NYC’s urban flavor of white noise. Anything repetitive without harshness to it: wind chimes, a clock ticking, steady rain. Back when he used to live on the coast in South Carolina, Marcus went in for all those soothing beach sounds, but the bustle on the city streets has its own charm against waves and seagulls. 

Color: Marcus lives in washed out colors, closer to neutrals, with a side of beige and olive green. Even his black is a little less harsh, like a t shirt that’s still being worn years after it’s faded and started collecting holes. His mind is all vibrant orange though, that Mad Max sandstorm orange, Norah’s orange when he thinks of her every time he peels a tangerine, that kind of desert orange that’s still stuck on him after all these years -- even if in the scope of his service, six years in the real world isn’t very long at all. 

Person: He won’t forgive himself if he says Artemis. That’s too much responsibility to put on her shoulders. So maybe not favorite, but most important? That’s pretty hefty too. Whatever it is, Sunny’s calming influence on this guy can’t be overstated. 

Memory: BCT, or basic training. Now listen, a lot of basic is really really shitty. Shitty food, shitty schedule, shitty exercise, the same shitty drills over and over and over every day. You get tear gassed in basic training. You sweat harder than you’ve ever sweat in your life and you go to bed at night absolutely exhausted. But BCT was the first time Marcus actually saw his future falling into place in a way he could be proud of, when he started to figure out his strengths and advance, and where he found people he could relate to and build friendships with. Really, with that in mind, he’d happily take the shitty food again. 

Place: Lmfao his apartment, messy as he and it are on the inside. Always good to have a good secure place to come back to. Weirdly enough though, he is also pretty comfortable with/fond of the Westside Dock, just because of the sheer amount of time he spends camped out there supervising deals from a distance just in case anything goes wrong. Zeus would’ve kept him parked plenty busy on his main trade, but Hades spreads Marcus over more varied tasks, which is what’s led to his familiarity with every boat, rooftop, and shipping container in that yard. He used to frequent the Warehouse with weekly regularity for the good live music, but understandably some work disagreements have rendered that a no-go zone.

Vice: He’s got the holy trio of Drugs, Booze, and Cigarettes going on, but in light of Madi’s favorite vice mini-meme I’m going to go with his complete lack of any sort of positive coping mechanisms or drive to start trying to develop them. Marcus’ constant self-reassurance is ‘it could be so much worse stop being a whiny bitch’, even the very middle of a panic attack, so shout out to that toxic suck-it-up type of masculinity the Army cultivates along with an unhealthy dose of ‘mental illness isn’t that extreme’ mentality. Keep tellin yourself that, bud.

HAVE THEY EVER…

Been in love?: Yes, in both the high school puppy variety and his one experience in slow-burning, real n’ deep adult love. 

Done drugs?: Oh yeah, and a pretty big variety. Marcus’ hard limit is anything requiring a needle, he knows just how easy it is to fall headlong into addiction with something that potent. Most of his heaviest various drug use was high school and right after his discharge, but he’s settled into a routine of pot whenever the opportunity shows itself and the rare bump of cocaine when he really really needs it. The latter tends to allow him to get what he needs done done, but it understandably sends his mental state straight to shit in the fallout, not to mention it’s an expensive for a picker-upper.  Cocaine is down as something that happens a handful of times a year, maybe. Doing a line is, in his mind, a lot less extreme than shooting something up straight to your veins. Marky’s pretty willfully blind to the fact that something you snort can be just as addictive as something you inject. 

Killed someone?: 

Marcus isn’t really keeping track of that number anymore. There’s a lot of the emotional part of his psyche that gets turned off for this process -- it’s not a person, it’s not murder, it’s a mission, you get it done clean and fast and you get out. Never think of a mark as an individual, complex human being. You’re screwed the second you do.

Betrayed someone’s trust?: Not on the scale of large deceptions. Eurydice might just count, positive and unsuspecting enough as their interactions were before Cronus’ order came down and Marcus had a hit to carry out. But, he reasons, it is the mob. Their definition of trust stands on shaky ground. And thinking that, it’s hard for him to resist the urge to just laugh at how malformed his morality has gotten these past few years.

Had their heart broken?: I mean, yeah, but he did it his damn self and he still thinks it was the right thing. Ending the engagement would never hurt as much as going through with it and waking up twenty years down the road, miserably unhappy. Norah is the closest he’s ever gotten to feeling truly understood but shackling her to his troubled ass would only bog her down and foster a resent towards him he could honestly never hypothetically blame her for feeling. We’ll call it heart break in the name of the greater good. 

Lost someone?: Everyone in the combat zone has a story about losing someone, but Marcus never felt his squad buddies were so close to him he had that kind of ownership over their lives to say they were someone he’d ‘lost’. No close family members dead either, Norah might be something closer to loss if their split hadn’t been his choice. So no, there’s no one he’s mourning, just some still strangely vacant spaces in his mental roster and more than enough persistent ghosts left in his memories.

DO THEY…

Have any pets?: Nope, though he is very firmly a dog person.

Have a family they still talk to?: Yes, but he’s not overly fond of doing it, #1 Son of the Year. Maria and Randy are still firmly parked in Newburgh and it’s honestly just depressing to him to call home and visualize them sitting in the same shitty house on the same shitty couch living the same aimless repetitive lives. 

Have a best friend?: It’s tempting to say Artemis again, real tempting in the kneejerk way, but he’s got way too much insecurity around their relationship and how much pressure his problems can put on a person once they’re close enough to know about them to weigh her down with best friend, if that’s even the phrase for what their relationship is. He’s not about to try and compete with the likes of Apollo and Dionysus either, not when he knows how much they both mean to her. 

Want to get married and/or have kids?: Oh boy. Well, there’s a difference between wanting it and actually pursuing it. Marcus is of the give-your-kids-a-better-life-than-you mentality and he doesn’t think he could do that now that he’s pretty deep in an illegal lifestyle. As for marriage, we all know about his track record with that. 

Want to leave?: He might, if he had any idea of where else he could go without immediately falling into the mental Pit of Despair. NYC has pretty much everything keeping him somewhat together. 

THIS OR THAT?

CALL OR TEXT; texting is convenient but there’s too much in tone and word choice left up for interpretation and it can turn into a liability when he’s got time-sensitive information he needs to know. Marcus almost always calls, especially if it’s about a job; texting is for sharing contact information or an address, or more casual ‘off-duty’ plans.

WEALTH OR LOYALTY; loyalty wins out, but just barely. Wealth is mighty tempting to someone who’s never had it, but at the same time, he’s never had it. When it comes down to choosing one or the other, wealth is the one he’s most capable of living without (no matter how sweet it would be to have). There’s the added fact that genuine excessive wealth makes him almost uncomfortable?? There’s the conspicuous feeling off a sign taped to his back that tells more bougie people ‘this man considers Kraft the superior kind of cheese’ and that’s not gonna change if he suddenly pulls the winning lotto ticket at the minimart below his apartment. 

LOVE OR LUST; not that Marcus is some heartbroken cynic cruising bars every night, but lust is easy and manageable and the occasional one night stand gets lost in the big city without any of those pesky loose ends; it’s been six years and the soreness of parting ways with Norah isn’t so fresh he feels her absence like he did first time he went home with a girl in NYC. He’s not about to entertain any fantasies of romance. The pool of people with shared life experience, or at least similar enough experiences to understand, is... small, to say the least. Why rope some poor unsuspecting soul into his personal whirlpool of bullshit? 

5 FRIENDS OR 100 ACQUAINTANCES; that’s a lot closer to his situation now, Marcus doesn’t tend to accumulate close friends, or at least semi-purposefully he doesn’t. He’s good at that kind of (surprisingly) pleasant, simple interaction that tends to fix a version of himself in people’s minds that doesn’t invite further speculation or questions (though if you ask, he’ll nine times out of ten be an open book). What you see with Mark is what you get, unless you stumble into or purposefully try for something deeper. 

SUMMER OR WINTER; you’d think summer, considering Marcus’ open air approach to his apartment (though that’s more of a claustrophobia thing than anything else), but he finds winter a lot more manageable and he’s had more than enough time in the Middle East to properly enjoy heat, even though going outside when it’s warm and he isn’t wearing 60 pounds of gear is a little treasure in itself. People are easier to track during winter too, their patterns are more predictable, there’s less roaming outside when it’s fuckin cold. 

OTHERS:

Wanted plots/connections: will be linked soon!

[poetjenharris]

The Reasons I Moved to Oregon

Nine Reasons Why….

1.    Weed is legal.

a.    Ghost Train Haze was named the most potent sativa strain in the world. In West Eugene, one could, say, if they so choose, buy a “pre-roll” joint of aforementioned champion strain for $6 at a dispensary that opens at 8 a.m. and shares a parking lot with a perfect espresso shot pulling walk up coffee shop. Perhaps, if we’re speculating, one could then mosey the 3 blocks back home, face to the perfect wind, salty sea air braided with whispers of conifers and evergreens, running one’s fingers along rows of bamboo so tall and wide they make the aspens quake. You can then, hypothetically, sit on your porch in your soft sandals with your hips stretched from the brief jaunt and you could sip your coffee and smoke just an teensy weensy little bit and of ol’ Ghosty and about 15 minutes later, you would perhaps, probably, likely find yourself lunging toward your computer, desperate to write (allegedly).

b.    For me and my mind, body and spirit, there is no antidepressant in existence that takes place of the healing powers of CBD & THC and for perhaps the first time ever, it’s possible to enjoy marijuana for recreational purposes (as one enjoys a cold beer or two) rather than solely as a coping mechanism for last-night anxiety.

2.    The state offers expanded Medicaid a.k.a. health insurance for everyone pretty much no matter what your income. I first experienced healthcare through expanded Medicaid in Denver, and I’ve never received such remarkable treatment in my life. Healthcare is a human right, so I moved somewhere which reflects that value of mine by actively putting that value into practice.

3.    Oregon’s weird. There’s a lot of weird fucking people here. I don’t stick out in the slightest and it’s nice. Eugene in particular is like all the characters in my imagination got together and decided to build their own sort of Roger Rabbit Toontown / Exchange City in my honor and then lured me here under the guise of you only live once.

4.    I get the chance to start fresh in a community. I love getting to know those people whom you’re not quite friends but sort of like, regulars, in one another’s life. The cashier, the budtender, the trash man, that guy on the corner, the barista, that one particular booth at farmer’s market, the venue owner, the community organizers…I like knowing where the obscure spices can be found, and who sells the most beautiful dishware, and which artists are currently underdogs but are going to skyrocket in the next few years, I just know it. I long for a future for more residencies. I have applied for jobs to work with homeless youth so I might meet more likeminded people in ways that help me grow and fulfill my desire to serve those in need.

5.    Look. I haven’t posted pictures because there’s too many people suffering – this is not the time to brag – BUT THE WEATHER IS GOD DAMN PERFECT HERE AND I’LL FIGHT ANYONE WHO DISAGREES. Lol I walk, EVERYWHERE. I work in the park at least 3 days a week, a small cooler, a picnic blanket, there are always more trees than people, the moisture from the river cooling the wind. I’ve not bothered to Google WHY and I can’t remember anything from college or high school Science, but the humidity here isn’t a Midwestern wet blanket. It’s an agent of peace. It keeps the air cool and we are in love and probably gonna get married, me and the wind.

6.    Jaden wanted to be here. She has always dreamed of living in Oregon, in Eugene. She gave up a lot to make this happen. She took a lot of risks. She put a lot of faith and trust in me. After all, I fled to the West Coast (alone) at her age (27) and I was scared shitless basically the entire year I lived in San Francisco but I fucking did it! and if there’s a tour guide you want, it’s the one crazy enough to have taken on the mountain alone a time or two.

Jaden and I, we banded together and made a lot of really intense, intimidating promises to one another and there’s really no way to get out of them. We have to see them through, because my success here is dependent on her success here and vice versa. We can both expand our mutual and individual dreams here. We’ve made investments and commitments and our cats are in love. We read the brochures about training to be whale watchers and how to volunteer with the organization that you call (instead of the cops) to help people who are dealing with substance use or mental health crises. Yeah, you read that right. You don’t have to call the cops here. You can call an organization that knows what they’re doing because they’ve been trained in these fields and people get the actual help they need and the cops can do they’re real and only job, which is to maintain the peace and protect citizens.

ANYWAY… Jaden could go back to school here. So, could I. We could also open a competing thrift store – animal adoption center BECAUSE THERE’S ALREADY ONE HERE AND HOLY FUCK WHAT A GREAT IDEA! I don’t know how we’d give them a run for their money, but I’d be down to figure it out. There’s a lot to see and do here. Everything is green and stimulating and easy on the eyes. There are no laws in West Eugene, just explosions of fruit trees and vines of fresh grapes. There are too many apples here. No one could eat them all if they tried. There are brambles of blackberries in every direction. We steal them by the fistful and eat them on our walks. The sky’s the limit here.

7.    The violence of Kansas City’s streets became too much to bear. I alone witnessed 2 murders and 1 drive by shooting in a month’s time. In Eugene, I’ve barely heard anyone raise their voice.

8.    I always wanted to come back to the West Coast. This time I treated it more like a gift I could give Jaden. We were living so meagerly before that when PUA and grant money rolled in, it became possible to repair or replace nearly everything in our own personal junkyards. And when all the adulting was done, I looked toward the future. I had a feeling that students wouldn’t be returning to campus and housing would be more widely available. I had a feeling we could have a grand adventure camping all the way across the country until we got here. I wanted to challenge myself to do something I’d never really done – enjoy the great outdoors, make the most of this chance to exhale from the 24/7 grind of entrepreneurship. I had a feeling this place in particular would feel like home for me, for her, for us. And it does. And it did. We got the first apartment we looked at, the one that’s like all our apartment dreams come true. AND FOR THE RECORD, can EVERYONE collectively PLEASE stop discouraging other people from moving someplace magical with the phrase, “But it’s so much more expensive to live there.” Please, just shut up! You know what’s expensive? Dying young and slowly of a heart condition because you spent your life stressed out in a place you didn’t like all that much because your job was there or your family was there or it is where you’re from or what the fuck ever. Please, be happy where you are. I do not begrudge anyone their conscious choice. But keeping other people from pursuing their dreams by provoking financial anxiety as an insurmountable obstacle that no one should dare broach – is bullshit. I will ALWAYS be a small-town farm kid who listened to every god damn country song about a girl escaping to California as if it were a promise. I set my watch by that promise. I waited round the sundial rather impatiently for the day I could make a break for it – and I would’ve gone a whole lot sooner if everyone who’d attempted to dampen my dreams with their insecurities and microaggressions, had given me $20. The statistical odds I’ve defied as a poor, queer, woman, a multi-tiered violence survivor, substance abuser… the number of times I should have been dead or incarcerated it a bit too much to think about for too long – but I know the truth. I’m lucky to be alive and if I have figured out how to survive THIS LONG through THIS MUCH, I’m sure I can figure out how to pay a rent increase of $300.

9.    I just wanted a fresh start someplace I could imagine buying a house where wildflowers grew recklessly across the modest landscape and I could raise a child or two who went to school with kids whose families looked just like ours and there would be art and music and dancing, laughter and sunshine and that impossibly cold, vengeful ocean just an hour away so that I might be reminded of my miniscule place in it all when my fragile ego gets my heart broken, as its been prone to do on a regular basis since the dawn of time. It really is a gift, a relief, even, to stand on the edge of something mighty and know that no matter how hard you strive, you will never be as powerful or influential as the ocean and that’s ok, because it’s not another ocean we need; it’s you, it’s me, just as we are.

  © 2020 Poet Jen Harris