coming for your tears

stores to cry in, rated

wal-mart: pedestrian, boring, you can do better. 2/10

target: a slightly better crying experience than wal-mart. the scent is strangely comforting, the lights however are too bright and make for a slightly unpleasant cry. there is however oftentimes a starbucks and a mini pizza hut inside for you to drown your sorrows in. 6/10, points for optimal post-cry atmosphere

an apple store: absolutely not. people cry in the apple store all the time because they cant afford the latest rose gold bullshit apple’s put out. overdone and cliche. 1/10

publix: points lost for the sterile and inhospitable environment but if you cry in a publix a gator WILL smell your tears and come to eat you. being eaten by a gator is in fact slightly preferable to crying in a publix. 6/10 for the gator

whole foods: an excellent place for a cry, people will probably assume that you are a wealthy emotional person who cant decide between quinoa or couscous and are having a real problem with it. 8.5/10

nordstrom: plenty of chairs for collapsing into especially in the shoe department but you WILL be accosted by salespeople. they work on commission and are hungry for your money. 7/10 for style

ikea: OPTIMAL crying destination, can climb into a bed and have a total mental breakdown and nobody will ever be the wiser, the employees WILL NOT bother you under any circumstances, comfortable and accessible, 10/10

hot topic: no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 0/10

you think people can’t tell

more watery aesthetics I guess

its tea

second ones transparent

if suddenly you feel the urge to cry come upon you seemingly from nowhere, please, recognize that it is not from nowhere. it is from a somewhere where you forgot to mourn properly. a place only your body can remember. let these tears come. let your body mourn. let your body feel her loss. even if you cannot understand her (who can?) it is important to let your body have this. when the crying is over feed your body something special and be gentle with her. bless

Love yourself

ARIES: love the way your head makes decisions before you can think about things, love the passion that drives through your blood, love the way your body looks

TAURUS: love the atmosphere in your soul, love your adorable curves, love your calming voice that helps others get through their day

GEMINI: love your happy smile, love the way your personality shines through no matter what people say, love the way you talk

CANCER: love the way you always help people and care about people, love your empathy, love the way you let a little, beautiful tear come out

LEO: love your pride when you’re feeling down, love your self-confidence, love the warm, fuzzy feeling when craving for someone or something

VIRGO: love the way you overthink things for the best, love the way you solve problems, love your crave for any knowledge

LIBRA: love the way you handle social situations, love your indecisiveness because it might help you at times, love the impression you leave

SCORPIO: love your intensity, love your craving for more love and attention, love the way your heart beats when thinking of something that makes you happy

SAGITTARIUS: love your imperfections for they are beautiful, love your sense of humor, love the way you are always down for new things

CAPRICORN: love the way your eyes widen when you hear something you’re interested in, love that people look up to you, love your looks

AQUARIUS: love your uniqueness, love the way you feel safe when being around your favorite people, love the excitement you feel when you create something

PISCES: love the way your mind drifts away sometimes, love your old soul, love your advice because people need to hear it


Bucky x reader

Notes: WARNING! physical abuse, threats, protective Bucky, fluff. 

A/N: I found this little thing hanging around on my phone. It’s a little dark, but fluffy too. 

Originally posted by wintersthighs

1 new text message from Y/N, 10:23 PM:

‘Bucky, can you please come over?’

Bucky checked his phone when he heard the familiar sound of an incoming message. His brow furrowed at the sight.

“Gotta go” he mumbled hurriedly, and jumped up, grabbing his coat as he ran out the door to the elevator.

“Hey! Where are you goin’? Thought we were going out!” Sam yelled after him; but the elevator doors already closed.

“Don’t take it personally, Sam. It’s probably Y/N” Steve quipped with a smirk.

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Originally posted by ohbabyyeah

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this! It’s the longest I’ve written on this blog and I’d really appreciate the feedback here  – I’m most likely doing a Part 2 depending on how you all like it. Enjoy :)

Harry loved family reunions.

Amongst the bickering cousins and lurid pitter-patter of children, he often found himself feeling at peace as his folks filled him in on all the stories he’s missed out on. He’d laugh about his jittery uncle who nearly burnt his eyebrows off from an old barbecue, nodding approvingly as his aunt gushes about her eight year old who’s just won the flashy new title of spelling bee champion. He likes the way they treat him too. With adoration in their eyes, resurrecting from the years they’ve watched him as a young boy (instead of the usual gaze of stardom he’s used to). He almost, if not, especially enjoys the way they admire his success, not as an ego-booster, but as a way of praising Anne for his upbringing, despite the major gossip that briefly tainted his mother’s name around her first divorce.

But even in a house packed with his most favourite people, he would always feel relatively exhausted from the length of the reunion, a full four days he’d reckoned. It was unfair really, he loved his crazy family, but he always felt like he had to put on his best face, never getting his usual dose of solitude to rejuvenate.

So when Harry first invited you to join him, he hadn’t quite expected you to be so patient with his family.

“Yes, he is very handsome,” you’d chuckle, “but we’re only friends.”

“You’re sweet, love, but I think this little girl wins the beauty contest, hmm?”

“Right, he is very good with kids.”

“M’only in uni, ma’am, so I’ve got a few good years before settling down.”

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Don’t ever tell me that marching band isn’t important.

I have had so many problems with public schools putting all the emphasis on athletics. When a school’s budget is cut, they don’t choose to take a little from each program. No. They choose to completely eradicate the arts programs, usually starting with the marching band. If you don’t play sports, you’re not a valuable asset, you’re not qualified for scholarships, and you mean nothing. Marching band? Why would we be impressed that you’re in marching band?

Anyone can do that.

Okay, fine. Anyone can do marching band. Anyone can spend hours on the field doing the same forty-second section over and over and over and over. Anyone can hit over 75 precise dots on the field with the correct step sizes, the correct amount of steps, the correct timing, without being so much as an inch to either side, in order and without looking at the yard line markers or the field. Anyone can memorize all of those extremely specific points on the grass and varying counts for steps and then execute them with a shako visor pulled down over your eyes and looking up at the press box the whole time. If you look down at the yard line markers to see where you are, congratulations, you just lost points for the group.

Anyone can memorize eight pages of notes, rhythms, dynamics, phrasing, and tempos. (But of course, before you do that you have to learn an instrument with hundreds of different fingerings and learn how to make slight changes in your lips to change notes and stay in tune.) Memorize all seven and a half minutes of music and then marry it to the seventy-five pages of drill you memorized. Do them both perfectly and at the same time. But you can’t just do what you memorized. You have to do it in perfect sync with everyone around you and know how to make the slightest adjustments to fit perfectly within the group. If you’re an inch to the right or barely a thousandth of a step sharp, it’ll throw everything off.

But anyone can do that.

Then add in the fact that you don’t get any individual credit for doing this. The closest you’ll come to recognition is your identity lumped into “The Such-and-Such Marching Band” as you all march onto the field looking exactly the same. You don’t have a number on your back. You have a uniform intended to erase you and turn you into dot T14 and nothing more.

But, for some reason you can’t explain, you love it. You love throwing everything you have into this ridiculously precise pursuit and then not getting any credit for it. You start thanking people when they call you a band geek. You start taping pictures of marching bands into your locker. You start wearing your band shirt everywhere you go. Because you look at the person in an identical uniform next to you and you know that you’ve done this for them and they’ve done this for you. This is more than just a team, this is a family; and if one person is missing from the form, the show can’t ever be the same. 

It costs so much money, so much time. You’re out there on the field in the blazing sun for fourteen hours a day during summer band camp, out in the street getting frostbite on your fingertips during the holiday parade. If anyone knew what you went through for this, they would wonder what made it all worth it.

And the truth is, what makes it all worth it cannot be described. It’s the camaraderie between you and the center snare, the colorguard newbie, the tenor sax player in the set in front of you. It’s the sunset behind you lighting up the back of your plume. It’s the hazy nostalgia that racks your chest with emotion. There’s something about the family you’ve chosen and the experience you’ve internalized that gives you the passion to throw everything down onto that field like nothing else matters in the world… because in that moment, it’s true. 

Your nerves are damaged from the cold. Your skin is damaged from the sun. Your joints are damaged from marching and marching and marching. You’re physically and mentally drained, your body is irreversibly compromised, you’re broke as hell, and all you have to show for it is a polyester jacket and a couple of blurry photographs.

But sports are what require hard work and dedication, not marching band.

Even though you complained basically the entire time you marched and even though you’re done with it, you pull out those photographs and you remember. You remember your first day of high school band camp when you had absolutely no idea what you were getting yourself into. You remember your first final retreat when they announced your band’s name as state champions, and you wanted to cry with happiness but you weren’t allowed to move, so you just clenched your fists so tight that your fingernails dug white crescents into your palms. You remember coming back the next year and thinking you knew everything as a sophomore, only to realize there was still so much to learn. You remember the band trips you spent months fundraising for, all the lame tourist attractions you visited between performances, and how you wouldn’t trade those memories for all the money in the world. You remember being a junior and getting nervous because people looked up to you now: as an upperclassman, as a section leader, as a friend. And then you were a senior and you cried on the final day of band camp. You remember how your life became a series of lasts. You had to decide which of the freshmen would inherit your band cubby, your lucky bottle of valve oil, your bus seat. You went to graduation but it didn’t mean anything because you still had one last band trip coming up. You didn’t shed a tear when you tossed your cap but you cried like a child after your last parade. You remember on the plane ride home, you expected to feel devastated and heartbroken, but you just felt… empty.

You remember printing out what seemed like the most difficult solo in the world. You remember driving up to your college and entering a room with a chair and a stand and a couple of people giving you skeptical looks. You remember getting an email from the college marching band with your audition results and reading it with tears of joy in your eyes because you realized it was starting all over again.

But marching band doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t matter.

Tell me that it doesn’t matter. Tell me as many times as you want. You could scream it in my face and I still wouldn’t hear because the music we’re making is too damn loud to let anything else in. 

Tell me that it doesn’t matter when I’m standing on the field for the last time, knowing that everything behind me will last forever and that nothing will ever mean more to me than this… and all you’ve got is some money and a jersey with a number on the back.

Do not ever tell me that marching band isn’t important. It is everything to me, and it is everything to millions of other band geeks across the world.

When you refuse to support kids because they participate in the arts rather than athletics, you’re no better than the football player who takes lunch money from nerds.

To all of my fellow band geeks… keep marching, even if the world tells you it’s not worth it. It is. God, it is worth it, in ways no one else but you will ever understand. Continue your band career in college. Audition for a drum corps. Stay active in your high school band as an alumnus supporter. You are all my family. 

Belong To Me

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 853 (almost not a drabble but it is so hush :P)

Warnings: Dean being an ass.

A/N: You voted for prompt, gif and character. Here are what I came up with for the winners.

You hated the fighting. This was the way it had always been and you knew it wasn’t going to stop for a long time. You and Dean had been friends for years before either of you had dared to let anything happen between one another. You loved him so much it hurt and you had no doubt in your mind he felt the same about you, even if he had never said the words. You also doubted he ever would, but that wasn’t why you had fought.

Dean tried to push you away, just like he always did. In the beginning he had flirted with other women, never once taken it beyond that but just enough to make your blood boil with jealousy. Once he had realized he was only hurting you and not chasing you off he had stopped. Then the bossy period had started. Him telling you what to do, which hunts you could go on and what your role would be. Again your blood boiled but those times with anger. A few screaming matches had occurred and you had run off to handle whatever monster problem you were having at the time on your own. After Dean had almost lost you on one of those hunts he had changed his tactics again. Those were the games he was playing at now. Shutting himself down, not letting you in. Not even when you knew he was hurting more than ever. His mom were back in your lives and that was a lot for him to deal with. A few months ago he would have told you about it, but not anymore. Now Dean told you it was none of your business, leaving you in tears to come home smelling like a brewery each night. Each time he left it got harder and harder to watch the door close between you, but you were determined in proving him wrong. Even if you could no longer fall asleep in his bed alone anymore. Even if you sat on the couch in one of Dean’s t-shirt with silent tears streaming down your face until you could no longer keep your eyes open and you fell asleep.

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You should be here

A/N: Inspired by the song “You Should be Here” by Cole Swindell. This is a feels smack. In this story Dean took Amara down with the spirit bomb they made, leaving Sam to raise Dean’s young daughter.

Listen to it here (play the song if you really wanna bawl while reading this)

Sam x Niece!Reader   Dean x Daughter!Reader

Sam felt his strong facade begin to crumble as he watched Dean say his goodbyes to you. At only four years old you didn’t fully understand what was going on but you got the jist of it, your dad was going away and wouldn’t be coming back.

Which was breaking your heart.

Tears were pouring down your face as you clung to Dean begging him not to leave you. Sam looked at Dean and could tell Dean was about to lose it as he held onto you tighter. His face was buried in your hair, breathing in your scent, memorizing you because who knew where his soul would go after he destroyed Amara.

Glancing up at his brother, Dean realized it was time for him to leave. “Go with your uncle Y/N. Sammy’s gonna take care of you.” Dean said while trying to get free of your grip.

“No Daddy.” You cried, digging your hands into his shirt, “Please don’t leave me.”

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It Hurts

Warnings: angst?

A/N: I was thinking of making this a two part. Should I make a part two and have it a fight/make up/ smut? Let me know! If so, I’ll post part two ASAP! :D

“Don’t go near ________ with that, she hates spiders.”

   A slow, sneaky grin spreads across Justin’s face. Your brother Alex warns him again, but it does no good. Justin takes a step forward and you take one back, arms up in mock surrender. Being deathly afraid of spiders your whole life, you didn’t want anything to do with them. Justin is holding a huge, hairy spider in his hand and the look he’s giving you is unsettling.

“Justin,” you squeak. “You better not!”

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baby, my baby | 04

Originally posted by kookmin

“Raise my child, just for twelve months”

◇ pairing: jungkook | reader
◇ genre: angst, fluff. parents au
◇ word count: 3.3 k
◇ author’s note: i will be updating this series every friday evening, 11~12pm korean time! i really hope you enjoy!

part one  ↠ ↠ previous part ↠ part four next part (coming next week!)

Your sleep schedule had completely shifted during the past week. Staying up late to wait for Jungkook to return home after tucking Hyunwoo into bed, and waking up early to fix breakfast for both of them reduced the amount of sleep you got per night.

After minutes of convincing, you were able to put Hyunwoo to bed, who was persistent on staying up to wait for Jungkook. You rubbed your eyes, a yawn leaving your lips. The clock read 1AM. You let out an exhale.

Before leaving this morning, Jungkook mentioned that he would be coming late due to a company dinner as it was a Friday. You just didn’t expect him to come later than midnight. Dragging your feet to the living room, you sat down on the sofa and hugged your legs to your body. The house was empty. Dark too.

“Ah… I’m so sleepy,” mumbling to yourself, you ran your fingers through your hair. This sort of situation would be what people would call ‘being sleep deprived but unable to sleep’. The clock hands now pointed to 1:15AM. Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your face with your cold hands in attempt to rid yourself of the sleepiness slowly starting to envelope you.

Where was Jeon jungkook? How come he hasn’t come home when it was past 1AM?

You frowned, thinking of how to lecture him when he got home. You averted your gaze away from the clock hanging on the wall, deciding not to count the seconds going by, and shut your eyelids. A few minutes had passed when you heard the click of the digital door lock echoing across the house. Your eyes shot open as you turned to look at the door.

The doorlock buzzed multiple times, the person on the other side of the door entering the password wrong consecutively. Rolling your eyes, you got up from the sofa and trudged towards the door, letting out a low grunt. What is that bastard doing? He could wake Hyunwoo up.

Irritatedly dragging your feet towards your door with scolding words on the tip of your tongue, you unlocked the door yourself and swung it open, to be met with a completely wasted Jungkook. He took a step forewards, but lost his balance and fell forward. You immediately held him up, grimacing at the proximity of Jungkook’s face to yours and at his alcohol smelling breath.

“Are you crazy? Do you know what time it is right now?” You grabbed his sleeve and pulled him in, quietly closing the door behind you. He swayed as he walked, and you slung his arm over your shoulder and pulled him to his room. It was a wonder how he made it home. You would’ve expected him to have passed out on the way if he was this drunk. Jungkook sighed loudly, exhaling into your face. The strong smell of beer filled your nostrils. You knitted your eyebrows together as you felt a migraine coming along.

Managing to get him to his room, he fell face-first on his bed. The suit on his shoulders was on the verge of slipped off, so you pulled him up by his arm and forcefully began stripping him of his jacket. Jungkook struggled, whining and stirring around with his eyes half-lidded.

“Look at this fucker,” you muttered under your breath, putting the jacket aside and helping Jungkook into a more comfortable position on the bed. As you were pulling the cover from under his body with much struggle, he began incoherently mumbling under his breath. Raising an eyebrow, you tugged away the cover with one last grunt, then pulled it over his body and tucked it under his body.

“…Y/N.” Just as you were about to walk away, you halted your steps at hearing your name. Turning around, you looked at Jungkook whom was stirring in his sleep. Clamping your lips tightly, you folded your arms on your chest. “I’m… sorry.” A pause. “I know I shouldn’t be doing… this,” he exhaled loudly.

The beating of your heart echoed in your ears. Biting the inside of your cheek, you shakily exhaled as you shut your eyes tight. You kept silent.

“I’m sorry… for what I did before… years ago and-… for what I’m doing now…” You licked your dry lips, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. “But… please, I just want you to know… I never meant to hurt you Y/N.” A small sob left your lips, and you covered your face with your hands to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth.

You felt your cheeks turn wet from your the tears trailing down your face, and you bit down on your bottom lip to stop your sobs. “But… why did you ignore me back then… at the park…? Why did you pretend… to not know me…? …It hurts.”

Shaking your head at no one in particular, you furiously wiped away your tears and sniffled. Your eyes trailed back to Jungkook whom was crouching in a fetal position on the bed, hugging himself. Clenching your fists, you stumbled across your words. “B-Because years ago,” you hiccuped, “it was the reason you broke up with me. You-you broke up with me after getting caught by your co-worker with me. You yelled at me and cursed me- saying that I was a m-mistake. You said you never wanted to be seen with me again.”

Your cries filled the silent room, but you continued, “I’m still scared…. Scared o-of doing this, all of this. I’m scared of how I’m starting to feel for you again. How could you do this to me?” But by the time you had finished speaking, soft snores were already leaving Jungkook’s lips. Looking at him wearily with tear-filled eyes, you wiped the remaining tears away and left his room, your feet softly padding against the cold floor.

The pounding in your head became more intense. Bunching the material of your shirt in your fists, you sighed before softly closing the door to your bedroom behind you, careful not to wake Hyunwoo up. A sigh fell past your lips as you lips as you regretted staying up to wait for him.

That night, you lay awake for hours in the darkness before falling asleep as the sun started to rise.


Jungkook awoke to a loud cry echoing across the house. He winced at the loud noise before he immediately shot up from his sleep. With half lidded eyes, he let out a groan at the ear-splitting headache, raking his hand through his dishevelled hair. The bright light shone through the windows, causing him to squint at the sudden brightness. A long wail would be heard from across the corridor, and he grimaced as he felt the sudden sound worsen his headache.

He licked his lips, trying to recall his memories of last night. Jungkook remembered drinking out late with his co-workers. Drinking a lot. Then… he somehow managed to come home with the help of his lowerclassmen. Then the rest was unclear.

A frustrated exhale left his lips, rubbing his sleep-ridden eyes while knitting his eyebrows at the pounding in his head — not to mention the loud wails, sounding like a child’s—!

His eyes shot open in realization that the bawls belonged to Hyunwoo, and quickly stood up from the bed and moved his steps to Hyunwoo’s room. He was lying on his stomach on the bed as incoherent and high pitched cries left his mouth. As he screamed, he kicked his legs and flailed his arms about in hysteria.

Jungkook held him by the waist and pulled him into his chest, arms wrapped around his shaking body. “Hyunwoo baby, what’s wrong?” His voice came out croaky, throat feeling extremely dry.

“…M-Mommy… W-Where is-is Mommy?” sobbed Hyunwoo, his small body spasming from hiccups. Jungkook attempted the calm the distressed boy by gently patting his back, moving his hair out of his glassy beady eyes. Hyunwoo looked up at him through his teary eyelashes, tears overflowing in his eyes and flowing in streams down his cheeks.

“Mommy?” asked Jungkook, completely clueless of what Hyunwoo was asking. However Hyunwoo couldn’t reply, out of breath from crying. He only buried his face into his chest, small hands reaching to grab the material of his shirt that was still wearing from last night, shoulders wracking from his unceasing sobs.

Jungkook’s lips parted slowly as the realization of the reason Hyunwoo was crying was because he woke up to nobody besides him on the bed. ‘Where is that woman? I told her he would cry if this happened…’ he thought, a gentle smile on his lips as he looked down at the child in his arms, crying in his embrace.

Hugging Hyunwoo, he shuffled his feet to the living room and looked in the kitchen, expecting you to be there, preparing breakfast for the two of them and ready to scold him for coming home late last night.

However, he was met with an empty kitchen. Raising his eyebrow, he walked to the study, thinking you were there, sitting in his desk and indulged in a new book. But once again, you were nowhere to be found. Jungkook’s eyebrows were furrowed together, searching the rooms for you, frown deepening as you were nowhere in sight.

He bit down on his lower lips, gaze trailing down to the crying Hyunwoo in his arms, and internally groaning. Where had you ran off to so early in the morning?

“Let’s go look for mommy. Stop crying baby,” cooed Jungkook, stroking Hyunwoo’s hair as he hushed his cries. Hyunwoo’s sobs ceased, swallowing before nodding slightly — cheek rubbing against Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook pulled him away from his embrace, brushing the strands of his hair stuck to his forehead and wiped the remaining tears around his eyes away. Then, he puckered his lips and brought his finger to point at them.

"Give Daddy a kiss.” He instructed, causing Hyunwoo to giggle slightly. Hyunwoo’s tiny hands held Jungkook’s cheeks as he pulled his face closer to him and gave him a light peck. Satisfied, Jungkook gave him a grin and hugged him into his embrace again. "Let’s go to Mommy.”

At this, Hyunwoo let out an overjoyed titter and excitedly bounced up and down in Jungkook’s hold. As Jungkook dressed himself and Hyunwoo to go out, he paused whist buttoning Hyunwoo’s shirt at an unexpected question. “Daddy, does Daddy like Mommy?”

His round gleaming eyes stared up at Jungkook, awaiting his reply. A tight lipped smile formed on Jungkook’s face as he averted his gaze away from him, going back to buttoning up his shirt. After seconds of silence, Hyunwoo still waiting for a reply, he bit the inside of his cheek before licking his lips to speak.

“Of course, Daddy likes Mommy. Just like Daddy likes Hyunwoo.” Jungkook only barely managed to collect his words to reply to Hyunwoo’s abrupt question. He wished Hyunwoo would not ask about it further after he had given him a reply.

“Then how come Daddy doesn’t kiss Mommy?” He silently exhaled, finishing the last button and moving onto dressing him into a pair of shorts. Furrowing his eyebrows, he contemplated on what the best answer would be. His mind was completely blank at the questions Hyunwoo was asking him. As Jungkook wouldn’t reply to him, he started to speak, “In the book Mommy read for Hyunwoo yesterday, it said Mommy and Daddy kiss when they like each other.”

Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek, zipping up Hyunwoo’s pants and holding his hand and walking out to the living room. Unable to answer, he ignored his questions. “Let’s go. We have to find Mommy quickly.” Instantly, he jumped up onto his feet and ran with tiny strides to put on his shoes, Jungkook slowly following after him.

Different to Hyunwoo whom had completely forgotten about what he was asking Jungkook minutes ago at the mention of looking for Mommy, Jungkook’s mind was filled with troubled thoughts. When Hyunwoo skipped on his feet, looking back at Jungkook and flashing him a wide smile that made his eyes crinkle into crescents, he was unable to return a smile.


Jungkook sat in the driver seat, brows furrowed as he stared at the screen of his phone. He had called you multiple times, even sending you multiple texts — yet he was redirected to the receiver every time, while his texts were unread. The more times he pressed on the green call button besides your name, his frown deepened.

Glancing up at the rear mirror, he saw Hyunwoo sitting calmly in his booster seat in the backseat, occupied with staring outside of the window. He let out an irritated exhale. ‘Why isn’t Y/N even answering her phone?’ Jungkook started to grow worried, first you leaving without a word, and then not answering his calls.

His fingers frantically tapped on his screen, biting his bottom lip between his teeth as he placed a call, bringing his phone up to his ear. Jungkook’s finger repeatedly tapped the steering wheel, looking into the distance in anxiety.

As soon as they picked up, he quickly spoke, “Jimin? It’s Jungkook. Is Y/N at your place right now?”

“Jungkook? Yes she is. Could you pick her up?” Relief washed over his body, as he let out a long exhale. “She came and knocked on my door at fucking six in the morning.” He immediately started the engine, glancing at the rear mirror again.

“I’ll be there right away.” As soon as he ended the call, he stepped on the pedal and drove his car out of the carpark, driving past other cars at a slightly faster speed. ‘That troublesome girl…’

After only about five minutes, he arrived at Jimin’s apartment complex. He was only able to come this quickly due to still being able to remember the address untill now. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he speedily stepped out of the car. He helped Hyunwoo out of his seat and lifted him out of the car, holding him to his chest as he walked up the stairs to Jimin’s house in quick strides. Slightly out of breath from climbing up the flight of stairs while carrying Hyunwoo, he panted, catching his breath before pressing the doorbell.

“Mommy, Hyunwoo is here!” Hyunwoo yelled as soon as Jungkook did, flailing around in his embrace, asking to be put down. Jungkook complied, helping him to the ground before knocking on the door.

“Hey Jimin, it’s Jungkook. Could you open the door?” He could hear hushed voices from the other side, and he could make out that the voices belonged to you and Jimin. You were panicked, yelling at Jimin in a hushed manner about why he told Jungkook you were here even when you were purposely avoiding answering his calls.

Jungkook heard the scrambling of feet near the doorway, one person rushing to open the door, and the other attempting to stop him. But the door soon swung open to reveal Jimin forcefully holding the door open while you were pulling at his arms for him to let go of the door handle.

Your hands dropped to your sides when you saw Jungkook staring at you through the door that was open ajar, and released your grip on Jimin’s arm — who then smiled in victory before opening the door wider for the two of them to come in.

As soon as Jimin held open the door and stepped aside to let them inside, Hyunwoo yelled, “Mommy!”

“O-Oh, Hyunwoo! You’re here?” You stammered, watching him run towards you and wrap his arms around your legs. He let out a loud laugh, rubbing his face against your thigh. You forced a smile onto your lips, pulling Hyunwoo up to hug him when he spread his arms open, asking to he held.

Jungkook also stepped in, crossing his arms on his chest as he stared at you. You immediately averted your gaze, biting down on your lip. Trying to focus on Hyunwoo, who was wrapping his arms around your neck, you forced yourself to grin as Hyunwoo brought his lips to peck yours.

“Why did you leave so early in the morning without saying anything?” Jungkook’s tone was stern, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Jungkook, especially after what had happened yesterday. “And, why didn’t you answer your phone? Do you know how many times I called you? I thought something had happened to you!”

You had only left the house in attempt to clear your mind, trying to get rid of the troubling thoughts Jungkook’s words had left you with yesterday. Ending up coming to Jimin’s house, as it was the only place you could really think of you going to, you ignored Jungkook’s calls and texts as you wanted a few more hours to yourself. Only, you didn’t expect Jungkook to call Jimin and come looking for you like this.

Growing annoyed at you who didn’t say anything in reply to him, he grabbed your wrist and forcefully pulled you out of Jimin’s house, a small yelp leaving your lips as you quickly muttered an apology to Jimin and hugged Hyunwoo tighter in your embrace. He dragged you behind him all the way until you reached his car, sitting you down on the backseat with Hyunwoo.


The car ride was silent, and even Hyunwoo seemed to sense the thick tension. You licked your dry lips, eyes fixated on your lap as you played with the hem of your shorts. Feeling Jungkook’s gaze on you — him constantly glancing up at the rear mirror to look at you — you shakily exhaled.

Hyunwoo spoke quietly, breaking the silence, “Does Mommy like Daddy?” You blinked at Hyunwoo’s question in confusion. Jungkook too, tried his eyes up at the mirror to observe your flustered reaction to the question that he had been asked earlier today too. And just like Jungkook reacted when he was asked, you raised your head  to look at him, keeping silent for a few seconds and awkwardly struggled to collect your words. You were clueless about what sort of answer would be best. Humming, you thought carefully as you brought your hand up to stroke his hair.

It was only normal that a mother and father of a child would love each other. That was the only standard relationship between the two of them, yet you didn’t know how to reply. Hyunwoo called his mother, and you treated him like a mother would treat a child. Yet you weren’t.

“Of course! Just like Mommy likes Hyunwoo, Mommy also likes Daddy.”

“But then why doesn’t Mommy kiss Daddy? Like in the storybook Mommy read Hyunwoo!” At the unexpected question you didn’t know the answer to, you gave him a tight lipped smile before attempting to avoid his question.

“Hyunwoo, Mommy is very tired. Mommy wants to sleep,” you yawned, feigning tiredness. Hyunwoo nodded his head quickly, saying ‘Mommy can sleep’ before entwining his fingers with yours. Shutting your eyes, you leaned your back your head back. Biting down on your lower lip, you held back a sigh.

Hyunwoo was slowly growing up.


someday, someone will come along who will tear down those walls you’ve built around your heart. // insp.
( my other special shadowhunters edits | all my other shadowhunters edits )

everyone’s already posted gifsets of this scene and i’m like the last one lol
the small text shown above (in the book pages) are snippets from an actual malec love story - specifically, this gem by @abloodneed! thank you izsak for lending your lovely prose to this gifset and for entertaining me with talk of malec fic woes while i slaved over it ❤


This is my Doberman, Moose. He’s around five (we’re not sure as he’s a rescue) and weighs 120 pounds (55 kilos). His favorite things to do are taking humans for a drag and barking at odd hours of the morning. He is a gentle giant— If he sees you crying, he will come up to you and lick the tears off of your face, and if he can he will also sit on you. He also loves giving the cat baths, and likes going downtown to farmers markets and music festivals where he kisses all the little children and makes them happy. He is a wholesome pup ❤️

anonymous asked:

Consider: At Yuuri and Viktor's wedding, the first dance between the newlyweds is Fix You by Coldplay. The music reaches its climax, and Victor directs Yuuri's attention to a written message displayed on a screen that tells him how grateful he is to have met him and how much he loves him. Yuuri begins sobbing out of happiness (which is fitting because when the lyrics come back they say "tears stream down your face) the couple holds each other while singing the lyrics softly until the song ends

Josh Dun Imagine

Prompt: Josh is in a car accident 

It was late Friday night when you got the phone call.  Josh had gone out with some friends to celebrate him being back in LA.  You were equally excited to be back home and have a bit of a break, but you chose to stay home and enjoy doing absolutely nothing for the first time in months. You and Josh had spent all of last week in Jamaica, holed up in a luxury hotel to have a nice vacation together, so you didn’t even bat an eye when Josh told you that he was meeting some of his friends. You simply kissed him and sent him on his way.

It had been two or three hours since Josh had left when your phone rang.  Laura’s name popped up, along with a picture of her, Josh and you from Ashley’s wedding.

“Hi Laura,” you answered.

“Y/N?” She asked, voice broken and sounding almost hysterical.

“Laura? What’s wrong?” you asked, trying to make out what she was sobbing through the phone.

“It’s Josh,” she cried, and your heart instantly dropped down to the pit of your stomach.

“Mom—,” you heard either Ashley or Abigail say before there was shuffling on the other line.

“Hello?” you asked, becoming frantic.

“Y/N,” Ashley’s voice came through the phone, you could tell she’d been crying too, but she was more put together than her mother.

“Ashley, what the hell’s going on?  You guys are scaring the shit out of me. What about Josh?” you asked.

“They won’t tell us much over the phone. He was in an accident, and they called mom. They said he’s in a bad state, but they won’t say much else until we get there. Dad’s driving us to the airport, but it’ll be a while before we get a flight. Mom told them your name so they’ll release information to you when you get there. They took him to The Southside Kindred Hospital, but you’ve got to get there so you can figure out what’s going on. We’re all a bit in hysterics,” she said, voice rough with tears.

“Oh my god—,” you said, running around the house trying to collect your shoes and a jacket, before grabbing your wallet and keys. “Is he okay, Ash?” you asked on your way out the door.  You hurried into your car before speeding down the street.

“We don’t even know,” Ashley sounded frustrated. “Just call us when you get there and they’ve told you what’s going on. Get there quickly, please.  But drive safe because Josh being in the hospital is enough.”

“Of course, Ashley. I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going on. Love you guys,” you said, knuckles whitening as you clutched the steering wheel.

Your mind was in a thousand different places at once the entire drive to the hospital, but when  you got there, you parked quickly before practically sprinting inside the emergency room and over to the receptionist seated behind a desk.  

“Can I help you?” She asks.

You look around frantically, “My name’s Y/F/N,” you blurt out. “Josh Dun— was brought here.. or I mean I got a phone call from his mom and sister saying he’d been in a car accident and he was here or that he’d be here.”

“What’s your relation to him?” She asked, typing away on the computer.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you say.

“Right, okay.  He hasn’t arrived yet” she says, looking up at you from her screen.  The ambulance estimated arrival time to be 11:20, so it should be any minute now.  If you’d like to have a seat—“ she motions towards the waiting room, mostly emptied tonight.  

You paced around the room instead, looking out the window, just to give yourself something to do, until you heard the bustling sound of the emergency room doors being shoved open.  

“We need IV fluids stat—“

“I need to get this leg stabilized—“

“Not until we take care of that laceration!”

It’s almost like the whole thing happens in slow motion, because you’re able to pay attention to every single detail being flown through the doors.  There’s three EMT’s, all dressed in dark pants and a blue collar shirt.  Then there’s someone dressed in scrubs with a wind-breaker looking poncho on.  They’re all looking rather frazzled, muttering medical terms that you don’t quite understand.  And then there’s Josh.  You don’t get a perfect view of him, since everyone else is hovering over his body, but it’s enough.  He’s unconscious, his eyes closed peacefully, almost like he was sleeping.  Then you notice the blood gushing out of his temple, dripping into his eccentric yellow hair, almost making it look like the ruby color he had last summer again.  

You have to cover your mouth and bite down on the cloth of your sweatshirt to keep from screaming.  

They keep pushing him along in the stretcher.  Two nurses hold open some double doors and before you know it, he’s being pushed away, out of your sight again.  You run after them all, not wanting to be left in the dark.  Josh needed you.

“Ma’am, you can’t go in there!” A nurse says, holding you back.  You push against him, trying to slip by, but it’s no use.  You’re hysterical and much too weak, so you let yourself all but collapse into the arms of this man instead.

“Where are they taking him?!” you say, a blubbery mess.  

“Our doctors are gonna take good care of him—“ he assures you as he helps you walk back to the waiting room.  You fall into the seat, curling your knees up into your chest and wounding your arms around yourself, just trying to hold it together.

It takes thirty three minutes for a doctor to come into the waiting room to find you.  He’s got a scrub cap and gloves on, which he removes as he walks your way.

“Can I see him?” you blurt out, your eyes full of hope.

“You’re Y/N?”  he asks.  You nod back quickly.  “Not right now, Y/N. He was in a very bad accident. It’s my understanding that the police will be in here shortly to tell you of the details of that, but I’m here to tell you about his medical condition. He’s in ICU now; we’ve got him stabilized. He is in serious condition though; the next few hours are crucial. His right leg is shattered, his arm is broken, too and he has several cuts and bruises; one on the right side of his head.  It was cut by glass, he has twelve stitches right now.  That injury may or may not have caused some trauma which could then potentially lead to some temporary memory loss or amnesia. But what we’re very worried about, is the internal damage. His entire body was bruised, and there was some internal bleeding in his lungs, which is not a good sign. They’re going to prep him for surgery now, to drain the fluids.  After we open him up, we’ll know the extent of the damage,” he pauses, staring down at the scrub cap he has in his hands, before taking a deep breath, “I don’t know if you’re a religious woman, Ms. Y/L/N but if you are, I would start saying some prayers. He’s not out of the woods yet. I’m sorry that I can’t give you better news, but as I said, it was a very bad accident and it’s very serious. But I will personally keep you updated, especially after his surgery,” the man finishes, patting you on the shoulder before he walked out and softly closed the door.

You stare ahead, stunned by everything the doctor said.  It was so much worse than you thought. Josh’s life was still in danger, and the doctor was worried he might not make it. Tears spilled out of your eyes as you stood up and started walking around the room, your hands finding your hair so you could give it a little tug, hoping the pull would relieve some of the fear flooding through you.  You wiped your tears away and tried to clear your throat so that you didn’t sound like the complete wreck that you felt like as you began dialing Ashley’s number.

“Y/N?” She answered right away. “How is he? Have you seen him yet?”

“I saw him coming in—” you said, the tears began stinging your eyes again.  “But not since they took him back.”

“What did the doctor say?” she asked.

“It’s bad Ashley. His leg and arm are broken and he’s got a cut on the side of his head but he’s in ICU and they’re prepping him for surgery because it’s really bad, like internally I guess. There’s blood in his lungs and they said he was stabilized but they don’t know what’s going on inside of his body,” you said, giving up on holding the tears back. “The doctor said we might want to start praying and it’s just really bad and I can’t fucking breathe in this waiting room they put me in. I can’t see him Ashley. I can’t go see him and he’s not okay.”

“Y/N, fuck, please breathe,” she says. Her voice was thick with emotion but it didn’t sound like she was crying. “He’s at one of the best hospitals in the state. They’re going to do everything they can. I’m sorry you’re there alone but we’re catching a flight out soon and we’ll be there in a few hours.  I called Tyler and Jenna, they’re coming too.”

“Okay,” you say, forcing yourself to breathe properly. “Call me when you guys get in.”

“Good. Just stay there.  Josh needs you to be strong. We’ll be there soon,” She promised.

“Get here safe,” you say, “Love you guys.”

“We love you,” Ashley says before hanging up.  

You scroll through your phone, wondering if you should call anyone.  You desperately wanted someone to be here with you, but everyone you considered calling either already knew, or was all the way back in Ohio.  You locked your phone and stuffed it back in your pocket, rendering the whole thing pointless.  

It takes Josh’s family over five hours to get to you.  In that time, you’ve been visited by the doctor twice, telling you that Josh was still in surgery, but that he was stable and they were doing the best they could.  You’d also been to the bathroom twice to throw up, and bitten your nails down to the skin.  

Tyler and Jenna arrive first.  They run through the double doors, hand-in-hand, both with exhausted, but concerned looking faces.  

“Oh my god—“ Jenna says when she sees you.  They both rush over, engulfing you in a hug.  You cling to them, crying into one of their shoulders.  

“We got here first.  There was a flight leaving that had two empty seats.  We told Laura to go, but she refused to leave Ash, Jordan, or Abigail.  What the hell happened?” Tyler says.  

“Fuck if I know! He was in a car accident and they said the police would come in and tell me about that, which they haven’t. I swear to God if he drove while he was drunk I’m gonna-”

“Y/N,” Tyler cuts you off. “Calm down. Breathe.”

You stopped talking and focused on Jenna rubbing your back as you counted your breaths.

“This isn’t real..” you say, as you lean your head on Jenna’s shoulder. “Tell me he’s going to be okay, Ty.”

Tyler sighs, “Josh’s been a fighter since the day both of us have met him. He’s always fought for what he’s cared about.  Music.  The band.  You.  He’s not about to give up that easily. He’s gonna fight through this.”

You let out a broken sob as you used the sleeves of your shirt to wipe tears away. Then you all sat there in silence for a while after that.  

Only a couple of minutes passed when two policemen walked in, looking around the room sadly. “Which one of you is Y/F/N?” One of them asked, looking at you like he already knew.

“Me,” you croaked out, sitting upright on the seat.

“We’re just here to tell you about the accident,” The other said.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“A few witnesses all gave the same story. But uh Mr. Dun was driving when a car suddenly swerved across the center line and hit him head on. The airbags deployed and the cars were spinning until Mr. Dun’s car hit the barrier. The driver of the other car was intoxicated above legal limit, and died at the scene. Mr. Dun was stuck in his car, which was pressed against the barrier, so it took a while for paramedics to get him out. He was unconscious when they arrived, witnesses said he was unconscious when they ran over there.” The first policeman said. “We’ve just printed off the pictures of the cars and the damage. These copies are yours.”

You reached out and took the papers, waiting until the police left before he looked at them. “Oh my god,” you gasped as you almost fell back on to the couch. Tyler helped you sit down before they looked at the pictures. Josh’s car was completely demolished. It looked like a pile of black and gray scrap metal. And you weren’t particularly religious, but you said another silent prayer thanking whatever higher power that Josh even made it out alive, while simultaneously begging for him to make it through the night.

You looked at the clock again, and was about to make some comment under your breath about how long this surgery was taking before the door opened and the same doctor walked in again. You stood up immediately, walking to the doctor. “Well?”

He looked around at the new faces in the room before continuing, “The impact of the collision physically caused a broken rib to puncture a lung. We are in the process of emptying his lungs of any fluid that’s making it hard to breathe. He’s still stable, though, which is good. He can’t breathe on his own, so he’s got a breathing tube. Tonight is going to be a big one, and the next few days will decide a lot, but we’re hopeful. His body is going through a lot, trying to heal itself. It’s up to him now and he has to fight to get better.”

“So that’s all you can do?” You asked, not sure if you should be relieved or not.

“For now. We’ll keep doing what we can for him.”

Dr. Wells nodded. “We put him in a medically induced coma, the body heals best that way, and it lets him sleep through the worst of the pain. As of now, we plan to have him in the coma for a week, but we will keep you updated. You should be able to go in and visit him soon.”

“Okay,” you nodded, not sure of what else to do or ask.

“I’ll come get you when you can visit him,” he promised.

You thanked the doctor before going back and sitting down, pulling out your phone to call Ashley.  You were just ready to ring her again, when her name popped up on your phone, “Just getting ready to call you,” you answered.

“We’re heading over now,” she said. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable,” you said.

“Okay,” Ashley said, “See you in a few.”

You nearly dropped your phone when Laura and Ashley walk through the doors.  You sprint over and wrap your arms around the both of them, letting them hold you tight.  The rest of Josh’s family filter in behind them, all with tear stained faces and tired eyes.

“What’s going on?” Laura said, wiping her eyes.

Just then, the doctor reemerges.  “Ah, family I presume?”

“I’m his mother,” Laura says, outstretching her arm.  “How is he?”

“We’ve set his broken bones and put casts on, and we’re monitoring him carefully. He’s been stabilized, but you can go see him now,” Dr. Wells said. “Not all of you at once though, please. Just three of you for now.”

Laura nodded. “Y/N and Ash, come with me for now.”

“Laura,” you say, shaking your head, looking at Josh’s dad.

“Go ahead, son,” he says. “I’ll be in to see him soon.”

You nodded, following the doctor, “I just want to warn you, he’s pretty beat up,” he says before he opened the door to Josh’s room, letting the three of you in before he left. You stood frozen at the foot of the bed. Josh looked more than beaten and bruised; he was hooked up to machines and he had an IV running into his arm. The right side of his head was shaved down to the skin where there was a nasty looking cut just above his ear that stretched around the side of his head.

You heard Ashley and Laura whispering quietly to Josh, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. You felt like you weren’t really here, almost like you were just watching a tragic movie play out, but you were brought back to reality when you forced yourself to understand that this was Josh lying in the hospital bed, fighting for his life right now.

Laura walked over and kissed your forehead. “We’ll give you a minute, then send the others in,” she said.

You nodded as they walked out the door and immediately you went to sit in the chair at Josh’s side. “Hi, love,” you said, voice thick with emotion as you entwined your fingers with Josh’s. “Wow, I hate seeing you like this.” you thought about what you wanted to say, although you were pretty sure Josh couldn’t hear you anyway. “You’ve got me so worried, baby. Your mum and dad, Ashley and Abigail, Jordan, Tyler and Jenna.  They’re all here, everyone’s so worried about you, babe. We love you so much. I love you so much, Josh, you’ve got to get better, okay? I want you to fight harder than you ever have before,” you said, looking down to where your tears were falling on Josh’s bed. “You’ve got to get better and pull through, okay? For me. I need you.”

You sat there for another minute, letting yourself cry and hold Josh’s hand. Y

When you walked back to the room, you sent the others in before sitting, curled up on a seta, not looking at anyone else. You sat there for a while with your head on your knees, thinking about Josh and how much you loved him, and how completely fucked your life would be if Josh wasn’t in it anymore.

You only look up after feeling someone’s soft touch on your shoulder.  “Why don’t you head home, love?” It’s Laura. “You need rest.”

You immediately shake your head.  “I’m going to sleep shitty no matter where I am, I might as well be here.”

Laura nods before sighing.  “We rented a hotel nearby,” she says, looking reluctant to leave.  “We’ll be back in a few hours,” she says.

Once they’re gone and Tyler and Jenna emerge from Josh’s room, you head back in, taking the chair near his bed.  “I love you. I love you so much,” you sighed, letting the steady beeping of Josh’s heart monitor lull you to sleep.

When you wake up, it was to a sore neck, the fast beeping of the heart monitor and the door to Josh’s room being thrown open quickly. “You need to leave,” A nurse says as she practically pulled you from the chair and a flood of doctors ran in.

“No, what’s going on,” you asked, suddenly very alert as you saw electric shock paddles.

“You need to go,” The nurse says.

You heard the fast beeping of the heart monitor suddenly turn to a long, steady, beep. “No!” you scream.  “Josh, no!” You push past his nurse before another pulled on your arms. “Don’t you fucking leave!” you yelled. “Josh please, wake up!” The nurses dragged you out just as the doctor ripped Josh’s dressing gown open and placed the paddles on his chest.

You were hyperventilating as you felt strong, somewhat familiar arms around you instead of the nurses. “Y/N,” You heard Tyler say.

“Ty, no,” You cried. “He can’t.”

“No, no, no no no no, fuck no,” you sobbed, collapsing into Tyler’s arms further, “I can’t breathe. He has to be okay!”

All you could think about was Josh, and no, Josh couldn’t be gone.  You clutched yourself around the middle, trying to put some sort of pressure on your body to hold it together.  But it was too hard, so you let Tyler hold you instead while you sobbed into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

It wasn’t until a nurse walked in that you could breathe again.  

“We got him back,” she says, sighing a breath of relief.  

You gasped as you felt air fill your lungs for what felt like the first time in hours. “He’s okay?”

“He’s stable again,” she says.

“Can I see him?”

“You need rest—“ Tyler interjected.  

“I need to see him!” you argue.  “I need to call Laura—“

“What and wake her up too?  You all need rest.”

You finally gave in and rested your head in Jenna’s lap as Tyler threw a blanket over you. You listened to the quiet noise of the TV playing and fell asleep again to Jenna running her fingers through your hair.

The next time you wake up, it was more peaceful. Jenna was whispering to Tyler about something you couldn’t bring yourself to care about. You stretched and sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you looked around. Jordan and Ashley were sitting in one of the chairs on their phones. Abigail was sitting next to her dad on the couch and Laura was by the water cooler.  

The doctor walks through the double doors just then, causing you to become more alert.  “Josh’s been improving significantly since he flat lined this morning. He’ll still be in the induced coma for the next few days, but if he keeps improving at this rate, he should be awake after that. You’re more than welcome to still come visit him, as long as you listen to the nurses,” he said giving you a look. “I will keep you updated, but just know he’ll still be out for a few days.”

They all nodded and thanked the doctor.

The next few days passed faster than you would’ve thought. Josh was slowly but steadily healing, and the doctor finally tells them that he thinks Josh would make a full recovery. You nearly melted with relief. You couldn’t help the nagging in your head that said even if he physically recovered, he still might have head trauma and memory loss.

Josh was starting to look better, much to your relief. His smaller cuts were healing, and the color was starting to come back to his face.

One week after his accident, you, Laura and Jordan were in Josh’s room as the doctor took out the breathing tube, and you all let out a sigh of relief when Josh started breathing on his own.

“We’ve stopped the medicine that’s keeping him in a coma,” the nurse says. “It could take anywhere for a few hours to a few days for him to completely wake up though. This is all up to him now. When his body is ready to wake up, it will. I know this is a hard time to be patient, but I don’t want you to get discouraged if he doesn’t wake up today, okay?”

All three of them nodded.

“Alright, Josh,” Jordan says. “You’ve kept us here for the longest week of our lives. Time to wake up now, bro.”

Josh didn’t wake up the first day, like you’d hoped he would.

You tried not to worry when Josh didn’t wake up the second day either.

By the time it got to the forth day they’d taken Josh off the medicine, you began panicking. “You can’t do anything?” You asked the doctor for what had to have been the thousandth time.

“He’s still recovering and his body is exhausted,” he says, “Give him time.”

You started losing track of the days and time, seeing as you didn’t leave the hospital for two weeks. When you woke up one day, you blinked and looked around to see that the sun had set, but it was still fairly light outside. The room was quiet, except for Josh’s heart monitor. You looked to the clock to see that you’d only been asleep for a couple of hours, but it was still early evening. You rubbed your eyes before you felt the same thing that woke you up in the first place: a slight pressure on your hand that was laced with Josh’s.

“Josh?” you asked, jumping up and sitting on the edge of the bed running your free hand through Josh’s messy hair. “Love, can you hear me?” you tried not to get too excited, but you knew that you hadn’t imagined Josh squeezing it. “Babe, if you can hear me, can you please try to squeeze my hand again?”

You waited and felt the slightest pressure on your hand again. Your eyes filled with tears of relief. You reached up to press the red button to call a nurse in, before you turned your attention back to Josh. “Are you waking up, love?” you asked. Josh squeezed your hand again. “Josh,” you sighed, cupping the side of his face. “Can you find your voice, baby?”

Josh sighed and you saw movement underneath his eyelids, but he kept his them shut as he squeezed your hand again, but for longer. “That’s okay,” you said quietly, afraid of being too loud. The nurse walked in, eyes wide as she looked at Josh and you. “He’s waking up,” you smiled.

She grinned at him. “I’ll go get Dr. Cochran.”

“Do you know who I am, love?” you asked, the question burning in his head. “It’s me, it’s Y/N.”

Josh squeezed your hand again and he made a small noise in the back of his throat that you thought sounded almost offended. You loved that it sounded crazy for Josh not to know who you were.

“He’s waking up?” Dr. Cochran asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Wonderful. I need you to step back for a few minutes,” Dr. Cochran says.

You hesitate and Josh squeezes your hand tighter than he had yet, but you pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Not going anywhere far. I’m right here.”

“She hasn’t left your side yet, Josh,” Dr. Cochran says. “Don’t think I could get her to leave now.”

Dr. Cochran and the nurse continued asking Josh questions, progressing to see if Josh could feel his feet, arms, legs, chest, hips. Yes, yes, yes. He could feel it all. “We’re going to turn all of the lights off, except for the lamp in the corner, okay Josh? It’s not too bright in here, it wont hurt your eyes. I know your eyelids feel heavy now, and I know you’re exhausted, but can you please try to open your eyes?”

You watched, with his heart pounding heavily as Josh’s eyes fluttered, but his eyelids stayed closed.

“I need you to try a little harder for me, Josh,” Dr. Wells said.

Josh let out a quiet, yet disgruntled sigh as his eyes moved rapidly under his lids. Dr. Cochran looked at you, then looked pointedly at Josh, nodding his head once.

You nodded before going and sitting on the bed next to Josh.  You took his hand in yours again,  “Hey love, it’s me,” you said quietly. “Been waiting here for an awful long time to see you awake again. I miss you. I miss your eyes.  Can you open up for me? Just for a bit, then you can go back to sleep.”

Josh’s eyes fluttered again, then finally opened and you let out the biggest sigh of relief. Josh let out a soft grunt, then let his eyes close again, blinking them slowly before he opened them again.

“I’m right here, baby,” you said softly, waiting for Josh’s glazed eyes to focus on you.

“You’ve been on a breathing tube, which is why your throat is sore.  Don’t try to talk yet if it hurts too much. I’m very glad to see you awake, Josh. A lot of people will be glad. You can sleep now, we’ll do some more tests when you wake up again.”

Dr. Cochran and the nurse left, and Josh’s eyes started drooping immediately. “Your family are here, Josh, I’m sorry they’re not in here right now. They’ll be in here when you wake up again.”

Josh squeezed your hand tightly as his eyes closed and his breathing evened out.

“I’ll be here too, promise.”

The next time Josh woke up was the next morning; Laura was by his side while you sat on the windowsill. The doctor ran some more tests and Josh cleared his throat once before he decided he needed to sleep again.

Josh didn’t wake up again until the next night. You were sitting next to Josh when he stretched out his fingers and you looked up to see Josh looking at you with a small smile on his face. You took his hand immediately and smiled.

“Hi,” you smiled.

Josh cleared his throat and looked over to the small side table.

“Water?” you asked.

He nodded.

“Don’t talk if it hurts too much,” you warned.

Josh shook his head. “Throat feels a little better,” he says. His voice was rough and scratchy, so quiet that you had to strain yourself to listen carefully, but Josh was talking.

You sighed in relief. “Good. You still look out of it.”

“How?” Josh asked.

You smiled. “You just look exhausted.”

“I’m so tired,” he sighed.

You kissed his forehead, “Go back to sleep, baby. I love you so much. Gonna be right here when you wake up.”

“Love you,” Josh sighed before he fell asleep again.

It took three more days for Josh to be awake longer than fifteen minutes, and for his eyes to clear up. By that point, the anesthesia had completely worn off, and Josh was looking much better.

Everyone visited constantly throughout the day.  Tyler and Jenna were in and out and Josh’s entire family had been staying in the nearby hotel for weeks now.  When everyone all finally left at the end of the day, Josh made space on the bed for you to lay with him.

“You scared the shit out of me, you know?” you whispered.

“Will you tell me everything, now?” he asked.  No one had told Josh what had happened, more focused on getting him better, since he was mostly out of it anyway and he wouldn’t remember. But now he was alert, and you forced yourself to open up.

“Car accident. Drunk driver hit you head on and it was bad. The car is completely wrecked, sorry about that,” you sighed. “What was the last thing you remember?”

“I was at the club. We were having a good time, but I really didn’t feel like drinking. I stayed with everyone for a bit, then I wanted to get home to you,” he said. “Hey Y/N?”


“What happened to the other driver?”

You closed your eyes. “He didn’t make it.”

Josh tensed and squeezed your fingers tightly. “They died?”

“Yeah, baby. I’m sorry.,” you whispered.

“I almost died too?”

“You did for minute,” you said squeezing your eyes shut again, you let yourself inhale the smell of him before continuing. “I was right here, beside you, and you started flatlining.  They had to drag me out and do the whole paddle-thing.  I thought I was going to lose you.  It was the worst minute of my entire fucking life,” you whispered.

Josh squeezed your hand tightly, but you kept your eyes closed, ignoring the tears filling up as you thought about the seconds you thought you’d lost Josh.

“It was that bad?”

“They didn’t think you were gonna make it through the night. I’ve never been so scared in my life,”  you said.

“Babe,” Josh whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault. I’m just scared to leave you alone right now. Don’t wanna let you go,” you sighed.

“I don’t really want you to leave. But promise me something?” he asked.


“After I fall asleep again, go home. Shower, eat some food, and try to sleep. I love you so much and I’m so grateful to you for being here but you haven’t left the hospital in what?  Three weeks? Ash and my mom will be back soon,  Ty’s here. I’ll be fine. You look like hell, love, and I’m a little worried,” Josh said.

You sighed. “I’ll shower and eat, but I’m not sleeping in the bed without you. I’m staying here until you can come home with me.”

Josh rolls his eyes but nods. “Fine. Thanks for being here. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you sighed.

International Playboy || Jeon Jungkook

Originally posted by tiredkook

Word Count: 3k

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Jeon Jungkook was someone nobody really understood. Everybody wanted to be with him, and nobody knew why. There wasn’t like there was anything good that came out of it. All of his old relationships were the exact same, it’s been that way since high school when you first met him. He would date the girl for a few weeks, and then break up with her. That was it.

Girls were attracted to the bad boy vibe he gave off. There was something about him that every girl wanted to tame, but none could. It didn’t matter how many hearts he broke, or what the girls said about him because in the end they would all have dated him again if they had the chance. And that was what made you so different.

After being his friend for three years, not once had you dated him or been in a romantic relationship with him.

Everyone was jealous of you, because you were the only girl he actively hung out with that he wasn’t dating at the time. Jungkook and you had become friends in high school and ended up going to the same college, and here you two were. You would watch him date several girls, and every time you would get jealous.

Sure, they thought that you being his friend was unfair. They thought that it wasn’t fair that you got to hang out with him all the time, apparently Jeon Jungkook was an object that was meant to be shared between everyone, and you weren’t allowed to even think about being close to him.

You didn’t like that idea. You didn’t like the whole bad boy vibe, you didn’t like the fact that he went around and broke the hearts of innocent girls, you didn’t like that he looked at everyone else that way except you. It was like there was something about you that just wasn’t appealing to him.

It hurt to know that, but you never said anything. You would never have traded being Jungkook’s friend for anything. Just being able to hang out with him and talk to him was good enough for you. It was torturous, but it was worth it. Jungkook had become someone he wasn’t, and you were the only one who got to see the real Jungkook.

When it was just the two of you hanging out in your dorm at night, he would tell you about his fears, his insecurities, his problems. The two of you would lay in bed and just talk for hours, nothing romantic or sexual about it. You would sometimes fall asleep and he would drape a blanket over you before making a bed on the floor and falling asleep. It was things like that that made you fall for your best friend.

Jungkook was someone nobody understood, except you.

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Park Chanyeol//The Rhythm of Hate - Part 1

Originally posted by softadulthood

Summary: You hate each other, even though you’re soulmates. You try and stay away from each other, but a shared course and a project is determined to keep you two facing off. (Part 1/Part 2)
Scenario: Soulmate!AU, college!AU
Word Count: 5,924

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