#also im so mad at my desk chair it just refuses to stay at the right height. i might need to get a new one augh

[mykocalico]

sorry for not posting art like a normal person for so long lol....... here’s another art dump ft. a bunch of sploon shit, dumb furries, and some random dromeowyrm designs. i will honestly just Not elaborate on any of these bc i do not feel like it <3

[almondmilks-posts]

C!schlatt- executed

I got lots of DMs asking for more angst so here

* You and schlatt get into an argument about him being president and executing tubbo ect, in a drunken rage he stabs you.

*Woah this is the longest thing I've ever written.

It all started when Fundy tipped you off about schlatts plans of executing tubbo for helping Wilbur and Tommy out,which you knew about ofc. You treated tubbo like one of your own and even sometimes helped him sneak out the Whitehouse without schlatt knowing; but killing tubbo over that broke you. You had to say something to hopefully put a stop to your husband's madness and his drinking. God did you hate how much he drunk, it drove you nuts.

You- he's just a boy. (Get the reference...)

Schlatt- I. Don't.give a fuck. He's. Traitor

You- do you blame him schlatt? Him and Tommy are close brothers even he probably felt terrible about what happend you know when you-

Schlatt- oh well should of thought I'd that before helping that that CHILD. HE'S MY RIGHT HAND MAN HE HAD ALL THE POWER AMD NOW and now he's going to pay the price and it's an expensive price to pay.

You walked over to the window and stood looking out into manburg. Just thinking about how you can save the poor boys life. How  could warn him without schlatt finding out? you came to nothing. You and schlatt were married you were first lady, wherever you went he went. You were in a deep thought about tubbo and what his death would mean to the server when quackity quietly Knocked on the dark oak door.

Quackity- uh boss I hate to interrupt but you have a meeting in 20 minutes down at the twitch prime church.

Schlatt sighed. Stood up off his chair and walked over to you, but not before grabbing the bottle. Schlatt got super close to your face, so close you could see the little wrinkles that had developed around his eyes and forehead since becoming president, your nose scrunched under the smell of alcohol from his breath or from his clothes you honestly couldn't tell anymore.

Schlatt- we will no longer speak on the matter. I AM THE PRESIDENT FOR MANBURG WHAT I SAY GOES.

He slaunted away from you pushing past quackity. Quackity gave you a sad smile as you both knew how mean schlatt could get when he drank, and recently he had been drinking alot. Quackity turned towards the open door to make sure schlatt was outta ear distance.

Quackity- go.

You- huh?

Quackity- I told Phill that you would be seeing him thecno Wilbur and Tubbo in the bunker. Go warn them.

You- i- hhhh thank you quackity I love you so much man.

Quackity- I know I know. Hurry because it looks like we are going to be in for along night if schlatt messes up this meeting

You- he's so drunk he can't even walk straight of course he's going to ok I'll run along I'll take the horse to speed things up.

Quackity quickly shut the door before running to where schlatt would be waiting downstairs for the meeting while you grabbed your axe and saddle. You made your way out the escape hatch in your office and found your horse (name your horse here pls comment the names I wanna see what y'all name your animals)

Horse- neyyyy

You- heyyyy boy shhh it's just me ok ok steady ok I'm getting on 3...2...1... And uppp fewww ok not so bad is it (horse name) ok off to warn Tubbo.

Your horse stamped it's hooves and took off for the bunker. You had ridden this path hundreds of time so it was easy for you and the horse to get to, quackity said he already told Phill about your arrival do he should be waiting for you to turn up. You were right because Wilbur was waiting outside for you to arrive. His usual green jacket and black Beanie on his head.

Wilbur- hey y/n in here look you can rest (horse name) in here Niki built it.

You- Niki joined? Awesome o haven't seen her in so long, well since she messed up the soup and schlatt fired her

Wilbur- how is he by the way y/n? Come inside and we can talk about him later or should I say rant

You- true true.

You walked through the entrance carefully, you had fallen down the rails the first few times Wilbur took you here. Over his presidential campaign you and wilbur had actually been pretty close and luckily kept in contact even though schlatt won. SBI was a group you practically grew up with just not enough for Phill to adopt you, but you don't blame him, you wouldn't fit the dynamic plus your parents didn't really like the idea but they never really liked anything you did.

Phill- oh hey y/n were all down here what do you want to talk about quackity said it was urgent so I called a meeting.

You got to the bottom of the steps to find everyone waiting on the floor for you to arrive. By everyone I mean: Phill, Tubbo, Tommy, Niki, thecno. You waved at Niki who had changed her hair colour since you saw her last she waved back with a huge smile on her face but a hint of sadness in your eyes. You had changed so much, you just look exhausted which was not wrong.

You- oh um yes hi everyone, sorry to be so blunt but uhhh there is no better way to say this. Tubbo is in grave danger. Schlatt is planning to...

Your hands started to shake vigorously, you felt dizzy, you wanted to throw up. Almost as if your body is warning you about doing this right now it's screaming at you to not betray your husband of four years like this but you have to.

Tommy- planning what y/n spit it out?

Niki- hey, y/n it's ok shhh Tommy what schlatt planning in doing to Tubbo?

You- he's PLANNING TO EXECUTE you tubbo. He knows, I don't know why or how but he knows about all of this and your his right hand man he's going to kill you tubbo, hang you for tertiary. I'm so sorry I-

Tommy- Tubbo? No? You can't die not now

Thecno- all our plans. Just gone.

Phill- he can't hang tubbo he's just a boy.

At this point you were sobbing now. Full on ugly crying. Your heart physically hurt from all the angst and the possibility of Tubbo dying. Your knees gave out on the floor as you wept for the young boy and he was still alive. The others argued in the back as to what to do. Tommy grabbed Tubbo and hugged him, Wilbur was crying over the threat of danger even thecno was a little on edge.

You- I'm sorry. But I must go I can't I can't stay im sorry.

Phill- it's ok. Thank you for warning us sport.

With that you climbed the stairs thinking about nothing honestly. You were numb. Your husband was going to murder someone you looked as your brother for years what did this mean for you? You were also helping them did he know about that? How did he know about tubbo's tretariy? You got on the back of your horse and rode back to manburg.

Climbing up the shoot to your office was miserable. You felt miserable, confused and alone. You had no idea how long you were sat in your chair looking at the chipped desk until the door was slammed open hitting the wall with a lud bang. You didn't need to look up to know it was your husband. Even before marriage he always slammed doors open like they were nothing.

Schlatt- what's got you all down in the dumps? HM sweetheart?

You- you know what and don't call me that.

You crossed your arms still refusing to make eye contact with the ram hybrid. This really pissed him off. He however pissed you off more by calling you sweetheart which to some would seem sweet but you knew schlatt better. This time was dripping in sarcasm because he was mind fucked drunk by now not caring about anyone or anything. Schlatt waddled up to your desk and stood right on front of you, still not looking up at him you pulled out some paperwork and started to mindlessly sign it.

Schlatt- me YOUR PRESIDENT just signed a huge deal with badboyhalo.what is wrong with you recently huh? Cats got your tounge ok what about pig hybrid got your tounge? Or angel of death got  your tounge or exhild child got your tounge?

You froze. He did know.

Schlatt- AHH struck a nerve, don't stop signing MY papers dear you are my wife after all.

You- no. Fuck you schlatt you can't hang the poor boy he's so young and innocent what was he supposed to do? You know I have to sign paperwork before you do anything and I won't sign off on it.

You threw your pen at schlatt in a rage. You didn't see if it hit him to enraged to care, papers were ripped, you there everything off your desk onto the floor. Schlatt just stood there blank expression not saying anything to you.

You- fuck you schlatt you don't control me.

You picked up the photo of you and schlatt on your wedding day. You ponderd on it for a second before stomping up to schlatt and shoving the picture on his face.

You- look at it. LOOK AT US LOOK HOW HAPPY I WAS NOW LOOK AT ME? DO I LOOK HAPPY TO YOU? OR DO I LOOK EXHAUSTED? STRESSED? because I am all of them things being married to you schlatt you are a terrible president and you have no power you're a pussy and won't face your problems like a real man.

Schlatt picked up the bottle of vodka and downed the whole lot you just stood there absolutely raging over this man's attitude and willingness to just disregard everyone in his life.

Schlatt- I DONT CARE HOW YOI FEEL I DONT CARW ABOUT ANYONE NOT EVEN QUACKITY OR MY WIFE. I AM THE BEST PRESIDENT MANBURG HAD EVER SEEN AND YOU WILL OBAY THE RULE OF SCHLATT. I KNOW YOU HAVE BEEN HELPING THE FUCKERS AND YOU WILL SUFFER JUST LIKE TUBBO, JUST LIKE TOMMY, JUST LIKE DREAM YOU WILL PAY THE PRICE FOR YOUR CRIMES. AGAINST. YOUR COUNTRY. AGAINST. YOUR PRESIDENT.

With every word schlatt got closer and closer to you. Terrified of schlatt, becoming increasingly more angry to the point his horns have grown pitch black out of pure hatred. You moved back as far as you could against the glass in your office. Schlatt pressing you up against it with his body but this time shoving a finger in your face and still yelling about how incompetent you are as a wife and as a person.

Suddenly you felt a stabbing pain just above your heart. You look down to see a black colour sword through your chest and red blood gushing out onto your clothes and floor ( ok the sword is still in so in irl not a lot of blood would actually escape unless the object was removed top tip but for theatrics blood eveywhere) you weakly reach up to grasp the blood covers wrist of schlatt to pull the sword out but to no avail as you suddenly feel super dizzy and everything goes black.

Quackity- she's.... She's.....y/n's dead

Quackity heard you and schlatt yelling in his office when silence happend. He knew this was a bad sign and anxiously walked to schlatts office with shaky hand. He got close enough to hear a loud thud and XP drop on the ground. He ran back to his office to think when schlatt walked by ( in this his office is made.of glass) staring at his hands, suit all covered in blood. His heart dropped and ran back to the office to collect your stuff, running on adrenaline he ran all the way the he bunker to tell the others. No time for him to cry yet he was still in shock over what just happened.

Niki- no no no no pls say your lying pleas no no not y/n

Niki dropped to her knees sobbing and rocking backwads and forwards much like you did less than three hours ago when you came to warn the crew. You were her friend and was the only person who helped her when she was working for schlatt at the white house.

Wilbur- no no why how? Pls no?

Wilbur and you were probably the closest, he found you in the forest over 12 years ago chasing after foxes and collecting berries Wilbur always wanted a younger sibling as this point Phill only had thecno and Wilbur.

Phill- oh no poor y/n.

Tommy- what the fuck how?

Phill when he first saw you recognised you emidiatly looking much like your father. However he knew the man and knew what he was like so he had no problems when you visited them for tea many nights a week. He did think about adopting you right after Tommy arrived as you looked after him so well. Crafting him many clothes and many pumpkin pies. So so so many he always asked Phil if he had the recipe as he knew you couldn't make them as frequently as you used to.

Everyone was going to miss you greatly they just didn't expect to see you at the festival but now as ghosty/n. All your tries and efforts were in vain. Manburg still got blown up. But you did make good friends with Ghostbur. Glatt knew off you but was too embarrassed to see you.

Ugh ok this took me over two hours to write non stop. I just got this idea and ran with it omg I got so carried away. As of now probably my fav story.

[kaori-flowers]

Hiiii, I tried writing a thing about Skeppy and Bad meeting up. I dont think I uhhhh executed this very well, also I dont think I wrote them as ship. Idk. I just made up shit as i went along. So yeah uhhhh enjoy? Maybe?

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Skeppy sat on Bad's floor, watching him stream on minecraft. Skeppy held the stuffed muffin Bad gave him, but continued pouting. Bad rolled his eyes and removed his hand from the keyboard, hanging it off the desk. Skeppy perked up a little and gently grabbed Bad's hand, intertwining their fingers together. He rested his head on the side of Bad's chair, holding his hand tightly. Unfortunately for Bad, he only had one hand to play now and he was so much worse than before. Skeppy refused to let go of Bad's hand though, desperate for attention from him. Even though Bad gave Skeppy plenty of attention the first 4 days that they finally linked up together. Now that they were finally together Skeppy didn't want to let go of him anytime soon.

"Skeppy I need my hand." Bad sighed, gently trying to pull it back.

"Nooooooooooooo." He whined.

Now that Skeppy and Bad were actually together, and not talking to each other over team speak, he didn't want to let go. He was excited to finally meet Bad, and knew he had to go back home in 2 days. He was already missing Bad and it wasn't even time for him to leave yet. He didn't exactly want to leave at all now that he had met Bad in person. Which Bad didn't really want him to leave either. Although he did want Skeppy to not be so clingy, but he did understand why he was like this. It was a little irritating but they had planned to meet up constantly and never did it. Until now. So Bad could understand and justify why Skeppy was so clingy.

"Skeppy please let me have my hand back. Typing is really hard with one hand." Bad sighed.

"But it's manageable."

"Skeppy seriously?!"

Bad looked down at Skeppy, and Skeppy looked up at him. He nodded his head and Bad rolled his eyes at him, sighing again. Skeppy looked back down and gently held Bad's hand hostage. He had no intentions of letting it go any time soon. Bad sighed and gently squeezed Skeppy's hand, reassuring him that he was still there. Bad removed his other hand from the keyboard, and set it on his own thigh. He pushed his chair out away from the desk, which made Skeppy move a little. He looked up at Bad quickly, thinking he was gonna get up or something.

"Skeppy-"

"Nooooooooooooo."

"I didn't even say anything!"

Skeppy made a sad face, and Bad quickly tesned up. He was such a pushover for Skeppy, especially if he was sad or crying. Bad absolutely hated when Skeppy cried or was even close to crying. It made his heart hurt, and it made him want to beat up the person that made him cry.

"Skep-"

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooo." He whined.

Bad sighed and and used his free hand to rub his own forehead. He found that it was much harder to do things with a clingy Skeppy. Although he still couldn't blame him or be mad at him. Skeppy hugged him about 100 times when they first met, Bad should have expected this. Or at least something very similar to this.

"Skeppy I can't play with you holding my hand. Im sorry but you have to move."

That was upsetting for Skeppy to hear, because he didn't want to leave Bad's side. Skeppy stood up, still holding Bad's hand and looked down at him. He quickly got an idea to make up for the loss of hand contact. Quickly, but gently Skeppy sat down on Bad's lap facing him. Skeppy's legs hung off the side of the chair, and he was technically straddling Bad. Skeppy wrapped his arms around Bad's torso and rested his head on Bad's shoulder. It was such a quick movement that it shocked Bad and gave him no room to talk.

"Skeppy. What. Are. You. Doing?"

Skeppy relaxed a little, closing his eyes and gently grabbing Bad's hoodie. Skeppy's hands gently twisted in Bad's hoodie, making it much harder to separate them. Bad held his arms up, unsure of where to actually place them. He didn't want to cross any lines with Skeppy, but he didn't want them in an uncomfortable position.

"Skeppy get off."

"Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo."

"Get off now!"

Skeppy whined, and held onto Bad's hoodie tightly. Bad gently grabbed Skeppy by his sides and tried to push him back, off his lap. The more Bad pushed him, the more he moved as well. He sighed and let go, moving back into place again. Skeppy quickly started sniffling and whimpering, making fake crying noises. Bad tensed up as soon as he heard them, and hugged Skeppy tightly. He wrapped his arms around his lower back, and pulled him close as possible.

"Im sorry. Don't cry! It's okay. It's okay Skeppy! You can stay hugging me on my lap. It's okay. I promise."

Bad blurted out in a panic as he held Skeppy tightly. He didn't want to be the cause of Skeppy's tears. He didn't want to upset him at all really. Skeppy smiled agaisnt Bad's shoulder and held him tightly. He was happy he got his way and he knew that if he 'cried' then Bad would give in. Skeppy used the crying trick, a lot, to his advantage. Sometimes he felt bad about it, but other times he felt it was justified. Like this situation.

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [08]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–mentions of sex, a panic attack w.c; 4.5k a/n; can’t believe there’s one more chapter after this! (+the bonus chapter!) its such a bittersweet feeling to close this all up so i hope u all join me in my w2!jk sobbing party im making matcha cookies rn so i can wallow

[07] [08] [final] -> masterpost

Jungkook’s worried. 

After he left your apartment, he dove himself into his work and tried to get you out of his head. Somehow he ended up from his living room table to his bed, bleary and with a pen jabbing him in the cheek. He doesn’t know how he feels right now, and has micro analyzed every bit of your relationship in between breaks.

He fell fast, and loving you (as much as it scares himself to admit) was so easy it hurt. It’s why it’s so hard for him to accept that you would betray him like that. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? If you had just admitted your issues from day one, this crisis could have easily been averted and you would be with him right now. 

But that’s not why he’s worried. Jungkook wakes up the following day around 10AM, noting the dozens of messages and unanswered phone calls from Jimin and Taehyung. 

According to Taehyung, you’ve been missing for three days. Off-the-grid type of missing, to the point that Taehyung is debating on whether or not he should call the police. 

The first day you didn’t come home, Taehyung chalked it up as you spending the night at Jungkook’s. The second day however, he visits the library where your office hours are held only to find your usual table empty and your students upset over your lack of contact. 

“Here,” Doyeon had said, pointing to the vague email you sent. Taehyung skimmed through the barebones message, mentioning that you had to take an indefinite leave and that the students can email Professor Kim Namjoon if they still had lingering questions. 

Taehyung notes the sincere apology at the bottom, and how you tack on that “you are a wonderful group of students and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.” 

Almost as if you aren’t planning to come back. 

He could hear Taehyung deflate on the line, knowing that Jungkook has no idea where you are either. 

“Did you…” Jungkook scratches his head, sitting at his kitchen table, “did you check her room for a yellow notebook?” 

“What?” Taehyung asks, “I checked her room yesterday. Y’know the weird thing is? Her room is clean, like clinically clean. There’s nothing on her desk, the sheets are washed, and her clothes are all folded and put away. Usually it’s like a whirlwind in here.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, remembering how your room is usually quite lived in, with warm sheets and a candle glowing. 

“Why aren’t you more stressed out, dude?” Taehyung says, and Jungkook instantly feels guilty. “Your girlfriend’s fucking missing, are you gonna get up and help or not?” 

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” he manages to reply, thinking about how you tried to explain to him the other night. He pinches the bridge between his brows, regretting not letting you have your word when refusing to listen to you. Maybe if he heard it, things would have turned out differently.

Taehyung sighs, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock. She really isn’t like this normally, but I trust her. If you can, maybe contact Jung Hoseok? I already visited Kim Namjoon and he doesn’t know anything, but he’s the only friend I know that could have any idea.” 

Jung Hoseok. He remembers that name frequently in your notebook. Not as frequently as his, but enough to have a good idea he could be involved in your sudden departure. 

“Okay, I’ll visit him today.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The tables that you usually occupy for study groups are painfully absent of your presence, noted by your stressed out students that are hoping you’ll show up unexpectedly. 

Thankfully, Hoseok is working today. Jungkook eyes him from the doorway of the playroom, seeing Hoseok carefully distribute plates of snacks as a movie plays on the flatscreen. He looks like a preschooler himself, decked out in a sunflower yellow bucket hat and denim suspenders. Jungkook tries to see if there’s anything strange emanating from Hoseok, like if he also has secrets to hide, but feels nothing of the sort.  

“You’re really creepy, Mister,” the door swings open to reveal a little girl, tugging impatiently at his cargos. 

Hoseok makes a face at Jungkook, rolling his eyes. “God, just come in. You’re scaring my children.” 

The little girl practically shoves him inside, forcing him to sit at the playtable on the very end. She then hands him a plate of cheddar Goldfish and strawberry fruit snacks, a toddler’s delicacy. Hoseok makes a show of telling the children to be quiet, focusing on the movie’s “historical elements” and “symbolic imagery” but they don’t understand any of that and just want Hoseok to move so they can watch Mulan. 

Jungkook feels like he’s being crushed in the too-small chair and Fisher-Price table, munching absentmindedly on his Goldfish. Hoseok is playing on his phone, not sparing him a glance as he texts someone. 

Jungkook swallows, wishing he had some milk to down the snack. “Uh, are you texting y/n?” 

“No,” Hoseok replies coolly. 

“Well, do you know where she is?” 

“I can tell you where she went,” Hoseok replies eerily, plucking a fruit snack from Jungkook’s place, “as to whether she’s still there or not, I’m not sure.” 

“I’m sorry, but are you mad at me?” he whisper-hisses, not wanting to disturb the children enamoured at the front of the room. He’s tired of the secrecy and blurry answers. 

“Yes, I am,” Hoseok snaps just as quietly, leaning in to get into his face, “I’m mad because I believed in you.” 

“Believed in me?” he gapes, “you don’t even know me!” 

“I may not, but I believed you’d trust y/n at least. She’s a victim too, y’know.” 

A victim? 

“Look,” Jungkook puts some space between them, afraid he would get too heated, “just tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I know I messed up, but I feel like I’ve been in the dark for God knows how long.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “It’s really not my story to tell. Y/n didn’t want to tell you right away because she wasn’t sure of the circumstances. She wasn’t sure even if she was supposed to tell you.” 

Jungkook watches the expressions morph on Hoseok’s face. He sees the faith in his gaze, as he holds his phone expectantly, as if he’s also waiting for a sign that you’re okay. Jungkook suppresses a sigh, looking at his own blank screen. Shaking his head, he manages to smile knowing that so many people believe in you.

So why can’t he? 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You hate this. Three days ago you felt peachy keen, ready to transcend into your own universe and live your life to the fullest. 

Now three days later you’re sitting at the wine lady’s cottage, waiting for the past two days for her to show up. 

“How long does she need to go on this ‘spiritual retreat’?” you admonish, looking on angrily at the same waitress that has served you for the past two days. 

“I don’t know,” the waitress has grown tired of your presence, waiting all day in the little restaurant for the owner’s presence, “until she feels more spiritual, I guess?” 

It annoys you further that this waitress has the spitting image of Sehlyung. It’s weird to see her with natural pin straight black hair, always loving the pretty blond-white color and sacrificing her hair health for the bright hue. Every time she sees you still in the same spot, she makes it a point to roll her eyes and walk a little louder. This version of her is just as temperamental, unwilling to budge. 

You groan, shamelessly annoyed as you drop your head on your arm. “And are you sure there’s no angel’s wine in the bar? I’m willing to take the risk of switching lives with my third dimension-self at this rate.” 

The waitress eyes the one empty bottle of soju that decorate your side of the bar, chalking it up as a drunk episode. “No,” she says flatly, jerking her hand out. “Now, please pay and leave. We’re closing up, but I’ll give you a call if she decides to show up late. Since y’know, you’ve left your number here despite our protests.” 

“Can I stay until you’re at least done cleaning—” 

“No.” 

You narrow your eyes, snatching up your half-finished bottle of soju before tucking it in your purse and offering up your credit card in exchange. You know you’re not in the right mind, but you’re pulling at strings at this point and you don’t know what to do. 

After a couple paces of shaky walking and trying very hard not to appear tipsy in public, you plop yourself onto the beach, overlooking the shore. You place your backpack next to you, taking off your shoes and dipping your toes in the sand. 

You glare hard at the moon, despite the distance the big ball of extraterrestrial rock is bright and full. It reflects in the ocean and bathes you in it’s grace. 

Sighing at its beauty, you take a swig of your soju as your feet wade in the water. The touch of the ocean is glaringly cold, but your body feels warm and the contrast is appropriately jarring. You feel stuck between two worlds, your body in one while your heart is in the other, desperate to find the bridge to bring you home. 

What exactly was the goal in bringing you here? Did you need a break from your real life? Did fate want you to remedy your relationship with Jungkook? Were you supposed to rewrite the wrongs you committed in your other life? 

You snort, taking a long swig. It's easy to see how well that went. 

You miss your life back home. As much as you love the one your alternate self has made here, nothing compares to Sehlyung’s humor and dirty jokes. Nothing compares to the look on Beomgyu’s face after getting a sentence translation correct. Nothing compares to the way Jungkook looks for only you after a concert, desperate to give you a hug and an affirmation that he did well. 

Just as you are about to sing to the moon and beg for a reprieve, a body plops themselves next to you, snatching the bottle from your hands. 

“Y’know, normally when people run away, they leave a mysterious note.” 

You frown at Jungkook, who looks absolutely ethereal as he stares at the moon. He’s glittering in his denim jacket and black jeans, as if he’s part of an intimate moment in a slice-of-life film. You have half a mind to grab your phone and yell at Hoseok, but it’s far too late since your location has already been revealed. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying not to snap when Jungkook pours the contents of your drink into the ocean. “Hey, I paid for that.” 

Ignoring you he says, “I’m here to take you home.” 

“I don’t have a home here,” you snap, and you mean it. 

Jungkook digs a hole for your bottle, letting the sea green grass sit in the sandhole. He turns to you, looking weary and worried. You try not to feel worried over the slump in his chest, or the way he looks like he ran a marathon to find you. 

“Then where is your home?” he asks gently, resting an arm over his knee and turning to face you. 

You curl up further into your body, hoping you’ll shrink if you press your legs close enough to your chest. “It’s not here,” you mumble into your knees. 

“Tell me where,” and you don’t shove him away when he puts his palm on your thigh, coaxing you out of your shell. “I’ll listen this time.” Deathly slow, you lift your head up, letting him catch your stray tears and spread your body with warmth. He scoots over to you, the rough sand making it difficult as he tries to wrap his arm around you. The both of you let out a breath, missing each other’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, the apologies melting into your temple, “I should’ve listened from the beginning, and been more patient. It’s my fault you’re all the way out here.” 

The oceans crash against both of your feet, the water eager to swallow you whole. 

“Two months ago I got into a fight with you, the other you,” you start, and Jungkook doesn’t budge, and you’re thankful he doesn’t attempt to bombard you with questions, “it wasn’t a stupid fight. It was something building for a long, long time. And I came home drunk. One second, I was two seconds away from being sideswept by an incoming truck, and the next second it’s daytime and it’s you that nearly runs me over.” 

He rubs small circles into your shoulder, and you almost hum at his touch. You miss Jungkook so much. 

“The Jungkook I’ve told you about isn’t dead,” you explain, “he’s—and I’m, we’re from another universe.” 

And between you, Jungkook, and the moon you profess your journey. Starting from the anxiety you felt from the first week, how you holed yourself in your apartment until Namjoon had to whisk you out, to your relief when Hoseok believed your crazy ideas. Halfway through you decide to piece your theories within the story, your last conversation with Jungkook, coupled with the angel’s wine and explaining how scary it was to see your matching tattoos and the meaning behind them. 

“But, I wasn’t trying to fall in love with you so I could go home,” you admit tearfully, feeling the weight of the night on your shoulders, “it, it just happened naturally. It made me believe that in another world, we would’ve worked out. Just like he said.”  

“I believe you,” he says firmly, exhaling. The whole explanation, understatedly, is a lot to take in. But he isn’t going to reject it, in fact as absurd as it is it makes far more sense than you planning out a Jungkook-inspired sci-fi novel or questioning your sanity. “I—I didn’t want to at first. It was easier to say you were crazy but, it doesn’t seem like the case. The way you saw me that morning we met, I could see how much you cared for me—him—us?” he scratches his head, unsure of how he should refer to himself in the situation.  

“I don’t blame you,” you shake your head, “Namjoon wanted me to see a doctor.” 

“It must’ve been hard,” he states, “seeing so much of him in me.” 

“You are him,” you retort, looking up so that your noses are touching. There’s pain in both your gazes, equally upset at the circumstances. “I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick. I wish you could’ve met me, the other me, under normal circumstances.” 

“Remember what I said before?” he asks, lifting a hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I said that our meeting was fate. And now I believe it more than ever.” 

You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Y’know, Jungkook believes in fate too. He used to joke about hearing the bell when he found ‘the one’ like in Kimi No Na Wa.” 

Jungkook grins, “That guy of yours seems pretty cool,” he jokes, “let him know that in our case, the bell was my horn because I didn’t wanna run you over.” 

The whole situation is confusing, but you’re thankful that Jungkook seems to be at ease now that all your cards are laid out. 

“So does your Jungkook do film too?” 

“Uh,” you choke out a cough, “he’s actually a singer, dancer, producer, and films when he has the time. Mostly singer, the main one in a K-pop group. With Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin.” 

He gapes, “Kim Seokjin? The actor Seokjin? Damn he’s like, super fine—” 

“God this is so weird.” 

“So how many figures are they making a year? In the hundred-thousands, like six-figures?” 

“Er, more like eight,” you squeak, “and then some. But you put a lot of your money into donations.” 

“Damn babe, you downgraded,” Jungkook jokes, and you smack him playfully on the arm. “So that’s how you got the song, huh?” 

“Still With You? Yeah,” you say, running your hands through the soft sand, “it’s weird to live in a world without your music, byproduct of my job. It happens to be a big part of my life,” your eyes glaze over the ocean, “I missed hearing your voice.” 

“Y/n,” Jungkook threads his fingers through the sand to find your hands, “I’m really, really sorry I doubted you.” 

You disagree, “It’s a crazy situation. I don’t even know if I’m really sane at this moment,” you chuckle, “I mean, the time went by so fast. I would be paranoid because for you, it’s like being in a new relationship. I didn’t think it would be so easy to love you all over again like that.” 

“Neither did I.” Jungkook replies warmly, and he smiles when he sees you gaping. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, a feeling long-missed. “And a little part of me knows he feels the same way, too.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s almost 12AM before you return to your apartment, dripping wet because neither of you anticipated the sudden spring shower. You tumble in like wet noodles, giggling like children in hushed whispers as you struggle to find the lightswitch. 

The lights blare on for you, Taehyung’s fingers hanging by the toggle. His hair is wet from the shower, and he looks like he sees a Christmas miracle when he wraps you up in his arms, despite the protest of you being dirty with sand and salt. 

“You dummy, don’t ever scare me like that ever again!” he sobs into your shoulder, and you return the embrace as you pat his head comfortingly. 

“Sorry Tae,” you say, “had to do a little soul-searching.” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, more like world-searching if anyone were to ask his honest opinion. But Taehyung is looking past your body to mumble a teary ‘thank you’ to Jungkook, and he nods his head politely. 

“Well next time you soul search, you better call.” 

“Done and done.” 

Satisfied that you are going to stay the night and not budge, Taehyung returns to his room. He gives you a good scolding however, and he makes you promise that you’ll give him the full story over breakfast. 

After that bump, Jungkook and you can’t keep your hands off each other. You two shower the grime off your bodies, taking turns shampooing and scrubbing. Even after you’re clean and towel-dried, Jungkook’s fingers fail to untack from your skin, pushing you eagerly to your mattress as he presses kisses along your clothed body. He’s singing against your skin, waxing poetics about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. 

“Jung—koo, Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp locks, “Taehyung’s in the other room, we can’t be loud.” 

“Don’t,” kiss, “give,” kiss, “a fuck,” Jungkook pants, large hands trailing over your soft skin, memorizing every inch of you, He presses his length against your thigh, insistent, “if this is the last time, we’re going off with fireworks, baby.” 

And with that, you relent. It’s nothing short of electric, the way he takes great care but great power into your pleasure. He takes his time, as if it isn’t the first and last night, tracing every inch of your body because he doesn’t know what the future entails for the both of you. 

You’re equally stung like live-wire, wracking with pleasure as he seals his affirmation to you with sweet nothings, bodies pressed against each other feverently like they’ve always meant to be. Every bit of contact is purposeful, unbridled and overflowing with affection. 

When you’re done you’re both sweaty and almost painfully content, acceptant of the ambiguity of your futures. 

“Jungkook?” you ask, holding his hand tightly.

“Yes, pretty girl?” 

“Will you… fall in love with me again?” 

“Is that even a question?” he balks, leaning forward to peck your nose. He smiles at the way you scrunch your face. “Your office hours are 1-3PM, Mondays and Thursdays in the general library. If you’re not there, you’re teaching the History of Neuroscience in the ARC building on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:20 to 12:10. I also know where you live, so.”  

You don’t care how sweaty you are, and tuck your head underneath his chin, needing to be closer. 

“I will find you,” he promises, “hopefully not under my bike the second time around, but I’ll take what I can get.” 

“You’ll have a lot of explaining to do, y’know,” you sigh into his chest, feeling it rumble as your hair dampens. Your hair has dried long ago from the shower, but you know Jungkook’s trying hard to be strong as he cries into your crown, “you should leave before I wake up, just in case.” 

“Hoseok and I will handle it,” Jungkook assures you, “we’re like the Power Rangers, defenders of space and time.” 

“Alright Red Ranger, make sure you’re at least clothed before I wake up, then.” 

He pulls away lightly, seeing your equally red-rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Both of you bump arms as you try to wipe away each other’s tears. The moon continues its power over your bodies, the only source of light in the room. Despite its movement since your time at the beach, it continues to illuminate the room and make the moment glisten with the rhythm of time. 

“You really think this is the end for us, huh?” his voice cracks, his hands cradling your face. 

Stretching to reach him, you press a kiss on every available centimeter of skin on his face. His forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. You take care to kiss the tears away, silently wishing nothing but the best for him. He immediately melts into your touch, and he gives you a teary smile. 

“It’s not the end,” you assure, “it’s our beginning. Thank you, for loving me.” 

Jungkook nods, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you again.” 

The two of you sleep like that, not with a goodbye, but with a promise. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1. 

When you wake up, it’s loud. 

The transition is jarring, painfully so. Gone are your soft flannel comforter, replaced with dry, scratchy sheets that are a poor excuse for bedwear. Your hands are heavy, bounded by the fluids snaking into your bloodstream. Your eyes are crusty and bleary, taking in the plain white and wood room. The sharp sound of the monitor reverberates in your ears, a high-pitched reminder of your slow vitals. 

Everything is painful, confirming that in fact you did get hit by that truck. You give props to your alternate self for dealing with this for the past two months. 

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the night sky and the full moon looming above you. The only other person in the room is your baby niece, who is just short of five years old. She has since ceased coloring at her little table, her little mouth gaping open like a pufferfish. You make eye contact with her, and she nearly spills over her 64-count Crayola pack as she throws herself off the chair, running over to reach for your hand. 

“Auntie!” she cheers, the biggest smile on her face, “you’re awake! Mama said you were hibernating like bears do, and that you would probably wake up by spring time. She was right!” 

Although it pains you to smile, you manage to squeeze her hand in return. You open your mouth, the inside feeling tacky and gross. “Ah-ah,” you grimace when no sound comes out, just rasps and ghosts of what once was your voice. 

Your niece’s face crumples, and she lets go of you. “Imma go get mama, she’ll bring help!” 

She leaves you alone to succumb to the beeps of your monitors and the pain in your bones. Your fingers grapple the paper-thin sheets, and your gaze drifts to the moon. You think of Jungkook, sleeping blissfully in bed, holding you with so much tenderness and care. In a matter of what felt like minutes since you fell asleep in his arms, disappears just like that. 

The doctors and your family find you hysterically crying, the monitors going crazy as you hyperventilate yourself into a stupor. You feel like you’re choking on air, whatever little tubes in your body restricting access to fully express how torn and conflicted you’re feeling all over again. The medical expertise does work to evacuate your family, chalking your reactions up as your trauma catching up to you and the shock of the past two months hitting you full force. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s nearly 3AM when the music cuts out with no explanation, and Jungkook is annoyed. He just got that set down and he finally felt confident in adding facial expressions, but the manager killed the music and now his head is spinning. 

He’s heaving, hands on his head as he tries to get his body back to equilibrium. He watches intently as Namjoon immediately takes the call, not even bothering to leave the studio to answer it. The rest of the members watch as Namjoon’s expressions morph into happiness, combined with short “yes”es and “I understands.” 

Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook first and beams, “She’s awake!” 

What originally felt like a hot and stifling room, immediately dissipates into an air of relief. While not all the members may not know you personally, the thought of a fellow co-worker on the road to recovery is enough to ease their exhaustion. 

“What?” Jungkook doesn’t hide it, and collapses on the floor, thoroughly spent for today. “Is she okay?” 

“Well, she actually just passed out. But she’s conscious.” 

“What, why?” Jimin asks, rolling a water bottle over to Jungkook. 

“Doctors say she woke up in a panic, started freaking out when it sunk in that she’s been in a coma since winter.” Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully of the thought of you scared and feeling trapped in that small hospital bed. 

“Well, can we go see her in the morning?” Jungkook says hopefully, biting his lip. 

“We can’t,” Namjoon confesses, looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “at least not right now. y/n was apparently terrified. The doctors think she’s suffering from some form of PTSD, because she can’t recall anything that happened after she got hit. Her guardians are sending her to a facility for her to process her trauma. It’s in the countryside, and she’s not allowed visitors until she’s fully recovered.” 

Just when Jungkook thinks he has you back, you’re already far from his reach. He should be happy, knowing that you are well on your way to get better. He’s thankful enough that you’re finally awake. But the small, selfish part of him wants to visit you, and comfort you. 

Whether you’ll let him or not is your choice, but this time, he decides he’s going to fight for you. 

[haechanplsacceptmylove]

Regret

Part one 🍓 part two 🍓 part three 🍓 part four 🍓

Plot: you and donghyuck both busy idols but also sensitive, you get mad at his for not giving you attention and you make a quick decision that you will also regret in the future. What's the end tho?

Character(s) : idol!y/n + idol/bf!hyuck, Mino, Jaehyun, mentions of Mark and Yuta.

Genre(s) = angst, swear word(s), smut ( (IF I CONTINUE) in the upcoming parts).

A/n = so far i guess this can be a oneshot but if you guys really insist for a part 2 I'll make it! I already have in mind a better ff about the same topic so i guessssssss I'll make two versions, soon! I'm not really proud of this one but hopefully u guys like it.

"Hyuckkkkiiieeeeeeee!!!!!" You say entering your boyfriends room seeing him sitting on his gaming chair, not really surprised to see him sitting there. He smiles and gets up to give you a quick hug that you don't even get to hug him back "hi baby I'll quickly play a game and give my whole attention to you" he pecks your cheek and sits back on his chair. You look disappointed at him but understanding his situation, he's been working hard with comebacks especially when he's in two active groups. You nod your head and jump on his bed to write some music for your own band's album and playing games to make time go by faster. After 1 and half hour you look at haechan on his third match "Hyuck you've been playing for so long can you now like hang out with me?" you whine stretching your muscles on his bed "wait just one more match" he says without even looking at you, giving all of his focus to the game, you huff and get up to go hang out with the boys in the living room telling hyuck that he'll find you there after he finishes his game. You were honestly kind of disappointed too, you were also and idol who was practising with your band members for your comeback that'll be pretty soon and you're right now using your only free time to hang out with hyuck, otherwise you'd be resting after having an exhausting week with a maximum of 3 hours of sleep everyday. You go to the living room and sit next to Jaehyun who by the way already had a crush on you even before Hyuck confessed to you but he kept his feelings to himself because he didn't want to hurt his best friend. "what's up?" he asks smiling at you "could've been better" you mumble playing with the hem of your shirt looking obviously disappointed which made him frown "where's hyuck?" "playing" you answer in a low voice and he understands it all. The fact that ever since you came 2 hours ago till now Donghyuck didn't spend any time with you really made you think if the game is more important than you.

Mark and Yuta both enter the living room and they start chatting with you and time goes by. You look at your phone 23:45, you've been here for 3 hours and here you are, hanging with your boyfriend's friends while your boyfriend is busy giving his attention to a game that he can play anytime. You message Mino, your best friend and also your first love ever but you already broke up years ago on good terms because you both were so busy and it all went normally, but everyone knows about your past with him and everyone also knows how much he still loves you which you haven't really noticed yet and which hyuck is pretty jealous of. You huff and excuse yourself going to hyuck's room to take your bag. "where are you going" hyuck says getting up from his gaming chair walking towards you "i finished playing" he opens his arms for you for a hug but you ignore him and take your bag from his desk "I'm going " you say without looking at him, he frowns "but you just came" "hyuck I came fucking 3 hours ago but yeah it's probably 15 minutes in your time because nothing wins over your amazing game that you can't live without and now im going back, not home but to fcking practice AGAIN" you walk past him huffing with visible frustration, you were so done, hyuck tries to stay calm at your sudden attitude "who's taking you?" he asks excepting you to say you're going by a taxi so he could offer you a ride "Mino", he frowns "you're not going, I've told you many times to not hang out with him! " he holds your arm and yells but you push his hand away "oh yes I am and you can go back to play your stupid game at lest Mino gives me all his attention" you we're so frustrated because first you're so exhausted, you've been working so hard the entire week, second you were supposed to rest but you came to see your boyfriend and give him your time, third HE ISN'T EVEN APOLOGISING TO YOU FOR IGNORING YOUR EXISTENCE FOR THE PAST 3 ALMOST 4 HOURS?????!!!! AND NOW HE'S REFUSING TO LET HANG OUT WITH YOUR BEST FRIEND??! you thought to yourself feeling so mad. "Hyuck, let's... Let's have a break" you say and walk out of the dorm leaving Donghyuck shocked standing still trying to let the words you just said load, seeing your best friend Mino waiting for you in his car you jump in and drive away. "So where are we going?" Mino asks, you look out of the window right at your boyfriend's room's window feeling your eyes watering "home".

[winchester-books]

Happy Birthday

Based On: Supernatural

Characters: SisterWinchester, John, Sam, Dean

Warnings: Angst, Family-Abuse, Language, Horrible Parenting

Word Count: 1700

Summary: It’s Deans birthday and Y/N wants to get him something special. However, gets caught stealing and her father is furious.

A/N: please read warnings!! also this was originally planned to be posted on dean winchester’s birthday, but i never got a chance to finish it until now... oops. happy late super late birthday to a man who deserves happiness (even though happiness has nothing to do with this fic)

also i know it’s been so long since i’ve posted, im sorry for my hiatus, i’m hoping i’ll be able to write more these upcoming weeks! 💞

The police officer led you into the station and ordered you to sit in the hard metal chair next to his desk. The man sat down across from you, informing you that he was going to call your father as he picked up the phone.

You nodded absentmindedly, not really listening to what the cop was saying- you already knew what was going to happen.

You swallowed dryly, knowing that you had screwed up. You gripped the chair tightly, your nails digging into the cushion, as you strained to hear the conversation.

Maybe, just maybe Dean would be the one to pick up.

“Hello, is this Mr. Winchester?” The officer said as someone picked up the phone.

“Yes, can I help you?” John responded impatiently.

Your heart dropped immediately recognizing your father’s impatient and irritated tone.

“Yes,” The officer glanced over at you as he explained, “I’m calling about an issue concerning your daughter, Y/N, she’s gotten herself in some trouble. We’ve decided to let her off with a warning, but we still need you to come down to the station,”

Your grip on the chair tightened as you waited to hear your father’s response.

Nothing.

“Sir?” The officer asked.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” John said coldly.

You winced, you could already tell, he was furious.

“Thank you, sir-" Click. John hung up. The officer pulled the phone back, a little surprised that the man had just hung up on him like that. He shook it off and turned back to you, “Your father will be here soon,”

You nodded silently, mentally cursing yourself for getting caught.

It was stupid.

All you had been trying to do was get your little brother Dean a gift for his birthday.

A stupid car magazine and a candy bar.

A lame excuse for a present, it wasn’t even a good gift- you had no clue what normal 9 year old boys liked to do for fun, but it didn’t matter because neither did Dean.

It was a dumb thing to do, and you knew that Dean wasn’t expecting anything, but you had felt bad. This year, John hadn’t even mentioned Dean’s birthday- he must’ve of forgotten. When the cashier saw you walk out of the store with a candy bar sticking out of your back pocket and a copy of Car and Driver Magazine stuffed not-so-discreetly under your t-shirt, he yelled for you to stop. You got scared and you ran, so he called the cops.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t stolen anything before, but this time had been different.

The things you usually stole were always necessary. Just a few pieces of bread or an apple or two so you and your brothers could get by while your father was on a hunt.

You looked up at the sound of the door swinging open. Your father strode in and you immediately dropped your eyes back to the floor, not daring to look at him. He nodded emotionlessly to the officer a a greeting, sitting himself into the seat next to you.

“I’m afraid I caught your daughter stealing from the market on the corner earlier today,”

John stayed silent as the officer explained.

“I’ve spoke to her, and we both think a warning is sufficient enough-”

“What did she steal?” John questioned, interrupting the officer.

“A candy bar and and a magazine,” the man responded, seemly a little intimidated by John.

You didn’t look up, but you could feel your father’s angry glare burning into your back, “So, it’s just a warning- does that mean I can take her home now?” John asked, already standing up.

“Umm-“ The officer’s hesitation received an intimidating stare from John. The officer shifted uncomfortably, loosening his collar, “Uh, Y-yes, you’re both free to go. Just no more warnings,”

You nodded, but you weren’t really listening to what the man was saying. You were trying to prepare yourself for the punishment you were going to face when you got back to the motel room.

John put his hand on your shoulder, guiding you out the door and into the Impala. He didn’t say anything on the ride back to the motel. He stared straight ahead, his knuckles turning white as he harshly gripped his steering wheel. He skidded into the parking lot and turned the Impala off. He opened the door, not even glancing your way, “Get inside,” he ordered.

You did as you were told, following him into the dirty motel room. Sam sat quietly coloring while Dean stood at the little table pouring cereal into two bowls he had set out for him and his little brother.

“Dad!” Sam called, a smile across his face.

John didn’t even glance towards him, he stared down at Dean sternly, “Take your brother and leave. Y/N and I are going to have a talk,”

Dean gave you a concerned look, “Dad, I just make me and Sammy dinner-” It was a flimsy excuse, but he tried to help you.

“I said get out.” John repeated, more force behind his words this time.

“Y-Yes sir,” Dean nodded, quickly dragging Sam outside with him.

The second the door shut, John turned, glaring down at you, “You interrupted my hunt,” he said coldly.

You opened your mouth, trying to find anything to say to calm your father down.

“You could’ve been arrested- you could’ve gotten me arrested,” he barked, taking a step towards you. “All for a fucking candy bar and a dumb magazine?” He fumed. You winced when he took another step towards you.

You stumble over your words, “I was... I just wanted to-“ John smacked his hand across your cheek. You stopped mid-sentence, feeling the hot sting on your face. You winced, your hand immediately reaching to the spot he hit.

“Do you really think I care?” He snarled and you took a step back, refusing to let the tears welling in your eyes fall.

You didn’t respond- afraid that if you said anything you’d only end up saying something that would make it worse for you.

He lunged forward, shoving you backwards, hard. You stumbled back, your hands flailing around as they tried to find something to stop your fall. You fell onto the ground, smacking your head on the dusty couch on the way down.

“I asked you a question!” John roared. You held your breath, trying to forget about the splitting pain in your head as you looked up at your father towering above you.

“No,” you shook your head, “No-No Sir,” you quickly corrected. You pulled your hand away from your throbbing temple, grimacing when you saw blood.

Your father didn’t seem to care, “If you ever get caught doing anything like that again, you’re out,” he said, his glare never faltering.

“I’m out?” You asked cautiously, still careful to not upset him.

“Out of the family,” he said bluntly, “I’ll take Sam and Dean and leave you wherever you stand,”

You knew your father could be harsh, but this was a whole other level. You wanted to scream at him and hit him back, but you found yourself nodding and replying, “Yes Sir,” in a hallow voice.

He ordered you to clean yourself up, muttering something about going to get a drink before he left the room and your brothers ran back inside.

You turned away, trying to hide the cut on your head and the red handprint across your cheek.

“Y/N/N, Com’ere,” Dean said, taking a few steps towards you.

You didn’t face him. You didn’t want to worry him, you were fine. Dean grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to face him.

His eyes filled with pity for you as he looked at your wounds, “Sammy, get a washcloth and some water,” Dean told him as he continued inspecting your face.

You watched him, the worry and anger etched into his small face. He was only nine years old, but he was aged well beyond his years, “Dean, it’s not that bad,” you pushed his hand away, but he ignored your protests and started wiping away some of the blood with the washcloth Sam had retrieved.

“What happened?” Sam asked curiously, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“Nothing Sammy,” you and Dean said in unison.

“But-“

“Go to bed Sammy, I need to talk to Y/N/N,” Dean ordered.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments as dean continued to work on your face. He wiped across one of the cuts on your face, causing you to wince.

“Sorry,” Dean apologized as he kept working.

You shook your head, laughing a little to yourself, “You know, I’m the big sister. I’m supposed to be taking care of you and Sammy, not the other way around,”

“You take care of us enough,” Dean assured, “We’ve gotta be ther for you too,” the room fell back into silence besides Sam’s soft snoring. “What’s Dad mad about this time?” Dean said quietly after a few moments.

You sighed as Dean finished bandaging the last cut on your face, “I screwed up... I almost got arrested,”

Dean furrowed his brows, “What’d you do? Did you steal something? I thought we had enough food-”

“We do. I just,” you sighed, “I was trying to get you a birthday present. I mean, dad hadn’t said anything about it all day so I just figured he forgot. It was just a car magazine and a candy bar, but wanted to at least try to make it a little special for you,”

Guilt washed over Dean’s face, “Y/N, I didn’t need anything I-”

“Dean, I know,” you said giving him a soft smile, “And this isn’t your fault, it’s mine for getting caught and it’s dad’s for being such an asshole,”

Deans eyes widened at the word, not used to hearing you speak poorly about your father.

You sighed bringing your hand up to cup his face, “Dont worry Dean, one day I’ll get us out of here. Me, you, and Sammy can get our own place that isn’t some nasty motel and we can do whatever we want. No hunts, no danger, no drunk dad, just us. And we can be happy,”

Dean nodded, a smile spreading across his face at the thought.

“Happy Birthday Dean,” you whispered pulling your younger brother into a tight hug.

“Thanks Y/N,” he said, wrapping his arms around your neck and laying his head down on your shoulder.

[spazzingcookies]

Vampire Reaper x reader

Chapter 4: can't get a break

!!!Warning, alcohol abuse in this chapter and death!!!

After that night it became hard for (y/n) to sleep. If reaper didn't want to kill her, what did he want? Romance? (Y/n) hoped not. She sighed turning over. Jack was resting in a chair by the door.

Reaper had come two days ago. Two days ago was the last time (y/n) had a full night sleep. Now she only slept maybe 3 to 4 hours a day. (Y/n) turned her head.to look out the window. She could see the morning sun coming out. Waking up the world. The birds where chirping Their morning song. If only (y/n) could enjoy them. She was so tired, but even time she closed her eyes she woke back up thinking reaper was here, but he wasn't.

(Y/n) sighed. It was a few hours till she had to get ready for work. She had started to fall asleep at work and if her now noticed, that would be just bad.

Exhaling (y/n) turned over again. Come on try and sleep. She closed her eyes, only to snap them back open and looking around. This was a thing she did. take a deep breath, close eyes, instantly panic and repeat.

(Y/n) didn't want to wake up Jack, not again. She's woken up in such terror that he had to calm her down. He wasn't the best at it, but he was learning. She would ask him to hold her for a bit to say everything is OK but that man needed his sleep too. Can't fight any vampires of your passed out.

(Y/n) rubbed her eyes. She hated this. She would sit here for hours and lose sleep. It was frustrating. With a grumble (y/n) closed her eyes again. Breath in, breath out, repeat. On her 3rd deep breath out.

Clearly she wasn't gonna go back to sleep.  Quietly she got out of bed.

It was still slightly dark, but (y/n) could tell the sun was about to peek over the Horizon. She might as well start to make breakfast. Her light foot steps could be heard as she made it to the kitchen. (Y/n) got a pan and eggs and she started to make omelettes.

The girl thought she was quiet enough, but she didn't know Jack was such a light sleeper. Looking up from her pan she heard back enter the room.

"Oh.. I'm sorry did I wake you again?"

"No, I'm just a light sleeper." He leaned on the wall as he watched. "Its a bit early to cook isn't it?"

(Y/n) was silent for a bit. What should she tell him? 'I can't sleep?'

'I got hungry?' 'Going to work early?' She opened her mouth to speak but stopped when Jack sighed.

"You can't run on 2-3 hours of sleep (y/n)..."

Hearing jack, (y/n) exhaled. He was right, and she knew he was right so why couldn't she sleep? "I know... I can't live off of coffee... And I know you and Jessie are here to help me but... " (y/n) trailed off.

"Scared? You have a right to be so." He got up walking closer. His heavy boots hinting the floor.  (Y/n) listened to them as they got closer, before stopping by her. She looked up from the pan to see jack standing right there. Carefully jack put his hand on (y/n)'s shoulder.

"Ask your boss for the day off when you can, you need to replace, calm down and sleep." Again he was right, but she also knew how getting a day off could also leave her boss in a mean bitch mood. "(Y/n)" he spoke again after she flipped the omelette with out saying anything.

"...ok." she muttered softly. This made jack smile at (y/n).

He carefully moved to the counter and filled the coffee pot with water.

"How strong do you need it for today?"

(Y/n) smiled at the sweet gesture he had made. "I'm more.of.a sweet coffee person, but I'm gonna need it.strong, can't be sleeping at work."

Jack gave a hum as he started to make the coffee. The sun is now peeking out to say good morning. (Y/n) cooked two other omelette in silence before putting them on the table. Jessie wasn't gonna be up for a bit, he was more of a heavy sleeper. Breakfast was silent and quick.

Soon (y/n) got up and got ready for work. If she was gonna ask her boss for a few days off she needed to get there early. Oh this was gonna be one he'll of a day....

Now with the sun fully up, (y/n) walked out of the house and to work. As she got to town she could tell people were already busy. With a deep breath she walked into the bar. It was closed but her boss was already here. Probably already drinking again. She took a deep breath before knocking on his door.

"Sir it's me (y/n)." Silence hit her for a bit. She was gonna knock again but the door flung open. (Y/n) bit her lip. Good god how much has he drank already? The man was leaning on the wall with a sneer.

"Your late."

"Uh... No I am early? It's 6:40, not 7:30."

The man looked at his watch and sneered. "What ever, come in and get to work--"

"Sir before I work today I wanted to--"

"Shut up!! I said get to work!!" He snapped before going back to what he was doing. Ughh h this is gonna be a day...

All throughout the day (y/n) try to get the courage to talk to her boss. At Her lunch brake she tried to talk to.him again only this time he was slumped over snoring on his desk.

"I am not waking him up..." (y/n) remembered the last employee trying to wake him. Let's just say it got violent. And the person now refuses to work here. (Y/n) wanted a new job oh so bad, but no one else was hiring with the same pay.

Sighing she went back to the bar. It was slow now. She could hear the ticking of the clock. It was soothing. Slowly (y/n)'s eye lids where getting heavy. Super heavy. She had to stay up. She couldn't let her boss see. Quickly (y/n) slapped her face. She had to stay up or else her boss will get really mad.

Hours passed. Soon it was 4:00 then 5:00, then it got to 6, and so on. It was now 8:45. It was getting dark outside. (Y/n) couldn't take it anymore. She had to sleep. No matter how hard she tried to fight it. No matter how many times she slapped her face she was falling asleep. She leaned on the counter. (Y/n) couldn't tell how long they where out. Hours? Maybe it was just a few minutes.

"Just what the fuck do you think your doing!!!" Hands slammed down on the counter, and the man slurred his words.

With a shocking gasp (y/n) jumped awake, a hand over her fast beating heart. Oh... Oh it was way past closing time. No one else was in here. "Im... I'm sorry sir I'm just--"

"Is that all you say? I'm sorry?! You where asleep on the job!!" Oh god his breath reeked of beer. Oh god he was so mad. "Why the he'll do I even pay you?!"

"Sir i-- the reason I was asleep is cuz I am having trouble--"

"I don't care what trouble you have! I don't care if it's that damn vampire that you said that attacked you! In fact I think no vampire attacked you! No one else in this town has seen a vampire for a month and you just so happen to fucking find one?? Ha!!"

(Y/n) backed up when he had hit the counter again.

"Sir--"

"No!! Shut up before I make you!!"

"But--"

"I said shut the hell up!!"

It all happened so quickly. He was so quick to anger. He was so quick. to turn to violence. He was so quick to grab (y/n) and slam her in a wall. Fear struck (y/n) as she kicked and screamed.

"Stop screaming!!" He tried to shut her up. He tried pulling her hair, stepping on her feet, anything to get her to shut up!! The more she screamed the more the drunk man got angry, and soon punched her in the face.

(Y/n) fell to the floor covering her head. Oh god she should have gotten a new job... Her nose was bleeding but that wasn't the end of it. She winced and screamed when she was kicked in the side. Oh god, was he going to kill her!! Everything went fuzzy. (Y/n)'s eyes couldn't focus. Her breathing was heavy and it hurt. Before a second kick would land on (y/n) she had suddenly heard her boss struggle for air.

(Y/n) shouldn't have looked. There in front of her was reaper. His claw digging into his neck as he dangled him in the air. He was here... He was here in town!!! Fear struck (y/n). Oh god... Oh God! Reaper slammed her boss into the floor, not once, not twice, but three times. He was enjoying this kill. It made (y/n) want to vomit. He had a dark chuckle. Reaper was gonna drink his blood.

(Y/n) had.to get put of here. She was going to be next! Struggling to get up, she started to limp to the door, only to grip her side and fall over in pain. She sat there for a bit breathing heavy. Soon the was the only thing (y/n) could hear. Her breathing. That was until there was a loud thud. The corpse of Her now ex boss hit the floor.

"I should have killed that bastard a long time ago." His dark.voice hit (y/n)'s ears, making her whimper. She was next... His loud foot steps came closer and closer before stopping right by (y/n). She was going to die.

Slowly reaper knelt down. Her eye was already swollen, along with bruises on her side. The blood from her nose was barely dripping now.

Reaper reached a claw out. This is it. This is it. He was gonna kill her!! (Y/n)'s body tensed up in fear. Waiting for more pain.

But it never came. Instead his hand moved her hair to see how bad her black eye was gonna be. He was being careful to not hurt her anymore. (Y/n) was breathing heavy but confused. Reaper leaves no survivors... so why Her? Not only once now, but multiple times.

"Oh mi amor..." He muttered. mi amor? That was Spanish. What did that mean? Mi was my, (y/n) knew that much but amor? Where did she hear that....oh god... He just said my love!!

Carefully he helped her sit up. Did... Did he fall in love with (y/n)? He was so scary the first time they meet but that would explain why he didn't kill her, why he would brake in... why he would kill her boss. He was protecting her. It may have not (y/n) like a train but she still didn't trust this vampire.

Reaper looked into (y/n)'s eyes only.to quickly shoot his head up at the door and fade to smoke as the door burst open.

"(Y/n)!!" Jessie has his gun drawn out and quickly came over. "(Y/n) hold on I'm gonna get you help! Just stay with me."

A small whimper escaped (y/n) again. She was so tired. She was in such pain. She can't keep her eyes open. Her vision started to fade. She couldn't hear so well. She got light-headed. The next thing she knew it went black.

[room3voluntary]

In meds we trust

I was in the toilet when I heard a polite knock at my door. 'Are you in Maddie? A man’s voice floated through the door. I was only in there looking at my face. Well, the chemical caused acne breakout that used to be my face. Urgh. I opened the door. 'I just have some paperwork to fill in if that's ok?' I realised he might be a junior doctor and he was as polite and his knock. I grabbed them from his hand and it was the usual. 2 pieces of paper, each with situation statements which I had to confirm with a circle. Never, rarely, some days, several days, always. Question 3 really got me. 'Do you talk to yourself while you're alone? What type of question is that ?'I asked aloud. He asked why and I said how do you know. 'How do you know if you talk to yourself while you're alone? That's like asking if a tree falls in the wood when no one is around does anyone hear?' He started laughing. 'I see your point' he said 'I know that I talk to myself' me too. I circled 'several days'. I think everyone does. He thanked me and collected the papers. He informed me I have formulation meeting tomorrow. A formulation meeting is where everyone gets together and discusses what to do with you. It sounds so clinical. How do you  solve a problem like Maddie? I've been a puzzle quite a few times. 

 I was sat at my desk when a seriously lady walked in, carrying a briefcase and a warm smile she perched on the end of my bed. 'My name is Dr Khatri'.

 First things first we discussed the events which led me here but after a while she clocked my note pad. She asked me what I was writing so I explained. It was partly this, partly my book and partly serious subjects. 'I wish I was as creative as you' she said. We then continued trawling through my history and uttered the words I knew were coming but still filled me with dread. 'I think you will benefit from an antipsychotic'

 In 2008, after the first serious admission i had, I left hospital at went back to college. I had my second psychotic breakdown 6 months into my first year at art college. It was now September and my first day back. i was so nervous but everyone was so nice, within a few hours i got my confidence back, i was ready to begin. I stared at the canvas in front of me and nothing happened. Creativity used to flow out of my hands. My mother was told I was gifted. I never saw a blank canvas I saw one hundred visual stories to be told. I picked up the charcoal to trigger some sort of idea but nothing happened. Then it hit me, I was normal. I was functioning but i'd sacrificed my creativity for it. Id sacrificed part of myself. 

 When you're young you're told to believe in you're dreams. You can achieve anything you want but as you get older you realise this isn't true and it takes hard work and sacrifices. My goal was to be normal and for that i realised I'd sacrificed part of my soul. Through the following year, I noticed not only had I sacrificed my soul, also my identity and it was down to a little blue pill called aripiprazole. aripiprazole was an antipsychotic and two years later when I had a trial coming off it, I came back. My soul re-entered my body, whatever what repressing me left and I got my sparkle again. I didn't want to be locked away again.

 'It's an antipsychotic called olanzapine' she said covering an awkward silence in which I realised I hadn't replied. 'I understand you have tried aripiprazole and quetiapine in the past yes?' I had but they were both the same, they stole who I was but quetiapine had made me physically ill as well. bad allergic reaction.

'What are the side effects?' I asked when I finally got out of my thoughts. 'There can be weight gain as a side effect' i knew this. Not only that I knew olanzapine was the worst one for it. I felt sick. I am Maddie and I am skinny. That's part of me. Throughout my life I've had patches where I've been a bit funny about my weight and for this reason I felt like I'd been given a death sentence. Logic once more dictates that this was ridiculous, but me and logic aren't always friends. I'm crazy and ill but at least I'm skinny and exciting. I'm not pretty enough to be fat. Medication weight is entirely different to normal weight. It's all on the stomach. You see it, a big round pouch. It's all on the stomach and flat in the eyes. I got one before, not big but it was there. People can be beautiful at any weight, size and shape but it made me so worried. My choice was be mad or be unhappy with how I look. I don't know what's worse. I know I was being dramatic, I know I was being shallow and vain but maybe It's what I deserved. 'Okay' I said. I wasn't really thinking. I'd already conceded to defeat to continue to participate in the decision. She asked if I had any more questions and smiled as she left. I smiled too.

 I am not anti-medication. I am pro-medication. I'm already on some. There are so many people, mainly who suffer with depression I've found, who point blank refuse any meds. I understand, they worry for the same reason as me but no matter how good your diet is, no matter how many miles your run, sometimes you're serotonin will not play the game. There is no denying these factors help but sometimes you need a crutch, a little helping hand to get you through the day but prejudice and fear seem stronger than logic. 'You don't need pills, why would you want to put all those chemicals in your body?' Preaches the person who nearly blacks out on tequila every weekend before inhaling a gram of cocaine through to Sunday morning. 'You just need a distraction' says the person who’s never even had a cold in their life, never mind any other health problems.

 It's a chemical imbalance: would you tell someone with diabetes it's a state of mind? And the same as diabetes, yes a diet can help, but you're not going to stop that imbalance by stopping their insulin. Ignorance causes suffering.

 The reason for my reservations was my complicated past with this type of drug. After a short time of contemplating in silence I started to cry. I felt heartbroken. Everything I had tried, the struggle and determination I had fought to stay off them, I was back to where I was a few years ago. I had failed. My heart sank into my chest not only through disappointment but the knowledge she was probably right.  I was being selfish too, my behaviour was also effecting the people around me, i had to be fixed. It was the most logical answer. I also knew that medication effects individuals in different ways but even that didn't help me. What could I do? I needed to formulate a plan of my own. Ferociously scribbled into my notebook cause and effect, feelings and frenzied suggestions but i knew deep down i was wrong.

 I went to find a nurse. I wasn't good at this whole 'talking to someone' business, I can do it in my own, but I needed to say my thoughts out loud.

 The ward has been busy. It was living up to a stereotype I tried to ignore. Sharon, the walker, was no longer wandering the hallways but yelping incoherently to herself in her room. Earlier a new girl was brought in by a flock of people who promptly tried to escape and hit her dad. I watched as she screamed and wet her self. I watched her violently thrashing as she was rugby tackled like a SWAT team by the staff and sedated. As we all shuffled off to our rooms as instructed by staff, I saw her legs were all bruised and bleeding. I saw her eyes too, she wasn't there. 

 I finally found a nurse to speak to. No, talk at. Through mascara stained rambling I explained. She said nothing. Finally she said 'don't worry about the weight gain, it doesn't happen to everyone'. What a pile of shit. Yes it does, it's the one that does it that most, im not an idiot. 'Tea is ready if you want some?' She said changing the subject and leaving. I didn't want some. I wasn't hungry. Probably because I knew soon that's all i'd be. Hungry and lost. 

 As the evening drifted on, it nearly time. I made my way to the treatment room like a prisoner on the way to the executioners block. I had to get rid of this negativity. i had to try. I slouched on the chair outside the treatment room, waiting for my name to be shouted. A few of the older and worse patients were watching TV. I looked at their facing staring blankly at the set. How do they do it? All of them are on antipsychotics and they just get on with it. That's all some of them do though, just stare at the TV in their pyjamas. I can't work out if they know what's going on or braver than me, stronger than me? Probably both, more so the latter.

 I heard my name and got my meds. I saw a new little pink one, poking out of the crowd of pills in the paper cup. 'This is a new one for me. I'm excited for the sleep but not the weight gain!' I joked. She just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. I took a deep breath and knock it back. Then nothing. I don't know what I expected. The whole world to change? To die? Everything was exactly the same. An hour passed and still nothing happened. I was just sat watching TV and very much still myself. 

 I got up to go to the kitchen and that's when I noticed the change. Fuzzy. Everything was fuzzy. From the floor tiles to door frames everything was like a slow slide show, doubled and swayed. I felt like static, my brain full of white noise. I stumbled into the kitchen but it was too bright so I abandoned my cup and made my way to my room. I felt as though i was walking through water. A 5 second journey turned into a 5 mile march of white corridor. I have spent more time in a drug fuelled trip wandering round hospital corridors than I have house parties this year. 

 I finally made it into bed and turned out the lights. Everything was better now. The white noise was quieter. Calm. The world has righted itself. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was my legs feeling hot against the bed sheet.

 *****

 I've just woke up. I can't get up

  It was two hours later and I was still struggling to move. Every twitch of my leg and flex of my arm made me feel sick. I needed the toilet, I had to move. My mouth was sandpaper dry, I needed some water, I had to move. I eventually pulled myself up and felt better I thought- until I stood up. It felt like my heart was going to explode through my chest. All my extremities tingled. I edged my way to the toilet using the wall as a frame and finally reached the bowl. That was the best piss I ever had. I looked over the mirror. I looked awful. Every time I closed my eyes I could see the veins pulsing across my eyelids and in my reflection that is what I saw. Blood shot eyes, the negative of what I saw in the blink, like a fingerprint. I got up and shuffled to the door.

 The hallway was white. Too white. My heart felt like it was beating into my legs, each step a slow and heavy thump. The pressure in my chest was radiating down from my head which was locked in an invisible vice. The heaviness of my head led the way as I went to find help. 'I don't feel very well' I said when I finally reached the dining room hatch. One of the nurses took my arm 'oh dear' she said 'Coincidence has it, a doctor is here, I'll get him to take a look at you, don't worry'. I lent in her shoulder and she grabbed me gently by the arm and steadily walked me to the treatment room. 

 wilted on the bed, I blinked and there stood a figure leaning over me, face shrouded by the strip light behind, turning his features into a silhouette which was crowned by a halo. My eyes adjusted to the lights and distortion melted away. The silhouette was now replaced with a dark haired doctor. He looked early 30s. Quite cute actually. First attractive person I'd seen in ages and i was in this state. The nurse from before leaned over and pulled my top up. I then also realised I had my tits out. Great. Faces of Meth, faces of Maddie, there was very little distinction. 'Hold up your arms, put then together onto your chest and lift them up like chicken wings' he said. What. He must have seen my expression of disbelief and confusion as he showed me how. 'I'm not going to press on your elbows and you have to try and keep them up, okay?' He was very authoritative yet polite. I liked it. From there proceeded a number of resistance tests, pulling and pressing on various limbs. After a while he pulled out his stethoscope and listened to my chest before checking my blood pressure. Everything was a little bit high. 'You are experiencing some very strong side effects but you are okay but we'll mention this to the consultant. Try and get some rest' Rest. That is all anyway says but it doesn't seem to be working. The nurse helped me back up and I hauled myself back to bed.

 'Maddie can i come in?' The staff nurse shouted the door. 'You have your formulation meeting at 1 o'clock is that okay?' It was 12:30. Oh god, I had so much to say, so much to explain, so much persuading to do and I couldn't in this state. I was struggling slur through a sentence. mind fuzzy. I started to panic, the kick of adrenaline woke me up and I pulled on some clothes and lumbered to meeting room. It was time to formulate my formulation, see where my path was headed next, and I was not prepared.

 When I walked in I was greeted by four ladies all sat in perfect symmetry, two on each side. There was my mum, a staff nurse, the psychiatrist and a lady I didn't know. I looked at my mother who couldn't hide her concern at the state I'd walked in. 'I don't want to take olanzapine again, please don't make me' I pleaded before anyone could even begin. 'It is your body and I can see you are not well' I looked at Dr Khatri 'They have had an unusually adverse effect on you. In the pasts you have tried aripriprazole and quetiapine and there were not successful either. I don't think this medication is for you. I see no benefit to continuing'  she smiled at me. 'Thank you' I replied. Thank you didn't even cut it, thank you for the bottom of my heart. A wave of relief washed over me. I said previously they are not good for me but no one had really listened. I have the symptoms, they fix the symptoms but they don't suit me. Antipsychotics are anti-Maddie. 'We have decided to the observe and see how you go' she continued 'we will wait for the increase in lamotrogine to take effect and if you manage to have two nights full rest, you can go on weekend leave and if that is successful we can discuss discharge' even better! This was the plan. This is want I wanted. I struggled to hold back tears as I thanked her. The lady was finally introduced to me. She was my work liaison officer. The thing is, and the thing you may not believe is, I am full time employed. Up until a while ago I was just like you. A Starbucks drinking, Tesco raiding, selfie taking, endless consumer. I was the one who accidentally walked into you in a heaving pool of people in primark. I am the person who sat opposite you on the train. A 'mutual friend',  a 'someone you might know'.

 Mental illness believes in equality. It doesn't judge or have prejudice. It will simply strike any of us at any moment. A monster lurking in the dark.

 For a while I’d felt like my life had been stagnant and now it was the most static and stagnant it’s ever been. I needed to get out.

 For the rest of the meeting I stayed slumped in my chair, the drugs still flowing through my veins. I watched them speak, their mouths moved but blurred sounds came out from far away. Dr Khatri hand grabbed mine and shook it, our faces smiling simultaneously. The plan was complete. The formulation; I just had to sleep. Not that hard right?

 *****

 I’m trying to sleep but It’s raining. It’s raining so hard. I overheard something about a storm earlier, about the sky turning yellow? I don’t know. It’s not just me that’s gone crazy recently, it’s the whole world. I couldn’t sleep though it like the slow motion crush of a car bonnet crumpling into a wall in a crash test simulation, dummy falling and bending inside.

 Suddenly silence. I flipped open the curtain next to me, only blackness peered back in. No rain.

 From behind me I heard the pitter patter of quick footsteps down the corridor and quickly flung myself into bed and pretended to be asleep. A few seconds later I heard the shutter fold up, the flash of a light and felt the eyes of a nurse observe me for a moment before moving on. I heard the shutter slap down I rolled over. Try again.

 I lay in the darkness, it buzzing around me like bees trying to shut down. Even if I don’t sleep even if they just think I have slept I can leave. I wasn’t going to move but then I heard the tapping. It was coming from outside of my window. Tap, tap, tap. I got up and went to the bathroom and slid under the sink, curling into a ball. Tap, tap, tap. I closed my eyes and breathed.

 I wont tell them about this

[angstymarshmallow]

We’re All Different. - #LoveHacks Fanfic

#ChoicesCreates Carnival Round 3

Title: We’re All Different.

Prompt: Different doesn’t mean wrong.

Choices Book: #LoveHacks

Rating: T

Pairing: None

[ A little note: I really wanted to write a #LoveHacks fanfic this week. So I kept thinking about the #choicescreates prompt and a way to incorporate my favorite easy-going gang of friends without it being about particular love interests. This isn’t so much of a fanfiction in the traditional way. It’s more of something that highlights who they are and somehow their friendship still works. I’m also in love with this song and I thought they fit pretty well with it. I hope it’s an enjoyable read 🙂and I always appreciate feedback]

[Summary: It’s MC’s night to plan a fun Friday for the gang. Just what exactly awaits this merry band of misfits?] 

Dani wakes up precisely at 6:00 am and not a moment sooner. Her familiar alarm blares promptly beside her, seconds before her hand flies to it and hits the snooze button. She always hits the snooze button in the mornings, deluding herself into several minutes of extra sleep. But on Fridays, she doesn’t. Specifically; it’s her Friday to plan their night out. She waits a few seconds before tossing to the other side of her bed. She knows she can’t stay long and her body is already missing the comfort of her blankets as she stands. Her mind has already drifted to her plans for the rest of the day. She can’t wait to see everyone tonight, especially after a long week of work. She’s still waiting for inspiration to get through her Clickit article. It’s in its final stages but it isn’t ready. She thinks about all the editing it needs. She thinks about all the men she’s dated in her twenties. None of them sticks out to her except him. She pictures his hipster glasses and adorable smile before heading to the shower.

Brooke’s making protein shakes in the kitchen at 6:15 am. It’s the only thing that helps her function in the morning. She doesn’t believe in wasting daylight hours. She rolls her eyes because she knows her roommates are probably still asleep. Her hands move in a flurry and blends the familiar ingredients together; frozen mangoes and strawberries, pieces of kale, ginger  - and other assortments as her eyes absently glances at the television screen. The shopping channel is her guilty pleasure and she often fights the urge to impulse buy. Currently the new blender that’s staring obnoxiously at her makes her itch to grab her credit card. She looks away as she finishes her shake. She thinks about the new workout plan she’s invested in instead. It’s for her newest client. She takes her personal fitness guru position very seriously. Empowering people has always been important to her. Whether through rigorous routines or healthy and balanced diets - she can think of no better way to make someone feel confident in themselves. She thinks about how excited she is to meet her new clients, knowing she can make a positive impact in their lives. As she takes a huge gulp of her refreshing shake, she wonders absently if Sereena will be up in time. 

Sereena almost hits the floor after nearly rolling off her bed at 6:30 am. Slamming the snooze button for the fifth time isn’t stopping her from remembering she has to go in today. The word work still appalls her, especially when it means catering to a bunch of juiceheads. Apart of her always fights the urge to quit. But no matter how much she wants to, she knows she needs the money. It’s still the last thing she wants to do even though it’ll go along way in helping her pay for for her graduate studies as she waits for it to start. She grumbles under her breath at the prospect of going in, knowing that only a bunch of overbearing alpha males await her. They’re all so boring and stupid. She doesn’t expect any meaningful or insightful conversations to take place and she’s yet to find anyone that’s proven her assumptions wrong. She doesn’t hear the door open, but she notices Brooke’s familiar blonde hair from the corner of her eyes. She looks up and frowns at Brooke’s cheerful expression and the protein shake in her hand. It’s the last thing she wants to see in the morning. “I know, I know.” She mutters before Brooke can say anything. She’s going to make them late. It’s not her fault, she just hates working there.

Mark impatiently bobs his leg up and down beneath his office desk at 12:15 pm from Zamble. It’s nearly lunch time and all he can think about is getting away from these lines of code. The bug fixes he’s been trying to implement all morning needs to be tested but he can’t seem to find his focus. It’s Dani’s night to pick a venue. He hasn’t heard from the rest of his friends except for the strange texts he receives from Dani and Brooke’s cheerful check-ups on him. He can’t help but think that maybe tonight’s the night. Maybe, tonight he can finally tell Dani how he feels. He wrestles with it until the idea creates panic. He rubs his temples and shakes his head to try and clear it. As much as he wants to tell her - he doesn’t think it’s worth the risk. He growls under his breath in frustration as he glances back to his desktop screen. Neither his personal life nor his professional life is working out the way he wants them to right now. He feels miserable and takes a moment to spin in his office chair. He props up one elbow and leans towards his windows, staring at the people below. He watches them with mild interest. He’s about to leave for an early lunch and give up his plight entirely, when his manager IMs him. Emergency meeting at 12:30 pm. It looks like his lunch is going to have to wait a little bit longer. He sighs and fixes his tie as he thinks about what other work they’ll pile on top of him today.

Cole’s latest mobile app PlaceHolder manages to bring him solid profits by 4:30 pm. It’s the end of the week and he’s doing the math inside his head of how much he’s made. It’s a big number and so far his greatest success. He isn’t done yet. He thinks of how much he can make next week with the rate he’s going. It amuses him how much people pay for other people to get shit done for them. At the rate his newest idea is growing, he can easily imagine selling shares to greedy investors and business junkies. It’s something he deliberates often and with every innovative idea. He likes the fast-paced environment that the mobile apps presents. He’s already thinking ahead; give the people what they want and profit from it. His next big business idea has to be better. He’s already checking the next place on his list before his mind travels elsewhere. He wonders absently what Amir’s doing. It isn’t the first time he’s thought about him since the night they spent together; but he refuses to give it much thought. Despite his efforts, he can’t quite hide the smile he feels, or the strange flutter inside his chest. He knows better than to get mixed up with Amir. He knows better than to mix business with pleasure especially when it’s his biggest adversary. But apart of him is already anticipating the next time he’ll see him.

Horatio wipes the counters of his bar and hums quietly to himself at 7:05 pm. The typical Friday crowd has began trailing in since nearly an half an hour ago at Double Tap. He recognizes a lot of familiar faces as they smile and nod at him; settling down with their well-known favorites before finding their frequently visited tables. Friday nights are busy, and he likes the routine. He likes seeing the heterogeneity, the the variety in the crowd. It’s one of the reasons why he likes working here so much; finding a kind of uniqueness with customers that he’s never had anywhere else. He keeps humming to himself as he greets patrons and effortlessly line shots on the edge of the bar while frat brothers wastes no time in knocking them back. He knows all the right things to say; charming them without being overbearing. He ignores the lewd comments when he hears them and keeps an easy-going smile as they ask for another round. He plays his role very well, the bartender with practiced patience - almost nothing gets him mad. He wonders idly if Tara will stop by before he has to leave. Almost as quickly, he shakes the thought away. She’s probably still working her shift and he sighs in defeat at the realization that he won’t see her until he makes another request. Or until he finds the nerve to call her. The latter seems less likely. Nevertheless, she’s in his head. He thinks about her pretty smile and the sound of her laugh until he hears his phone vibrating inside his pocket. He checks it. It’s just another one of Dani’s texts; a cryptic message with the directions of where everyone’s supposed to meet. She reminds him to bring the cooler and his stock of beers and hard liquor.

- 

They all arrive around the same time. Miraculously, they had no qualms or trouble following the vague details and directions they received via text. They park their vehicles near the edge of San Fransisco. The midnight air is cool in its close proximity of the beach. They watch the water’s reflections uneasily as the air picks up. They shudder before bundling all their equipment and race towards the sand. Dropping shoes and jackets near the shore, they begin setting up thoroughly. 

Horatio’s cooler is tucked under his arm and his guitar case is strapped across his back. Horatio deposits the cooler and retrieves his guitar before strumming a few warm-up chords. Brooke and Sereena hands everyone snacks accompanied by bottled-water, as Dani helps Mark build a bonfire. Mark makes a face as he blows the tiny kindle of a flame, hoping it’ll spark the rest of the logs. Dani chuckles at his attempt. Brooke argues about the benefit of water with Sereena when Sereena refuses to take a bottle. Cole queues his music to his wireless beats by dre speakers and plays Paris by the Chainsmokers and Horatio groans at his mainstream choice.

If we go down then we go down together They’ll say you could do anything They’ll say that I was clever

Dani laughs at something Sereena says. She usually finds Sereena unintentionally hilarious. Sereena complains about something a guy told her at Solstice, insisting it was sexist. Brooke explains to Dani that the random stranger was simply complimenting Sereena .

If we go down then we go down together We’ll get away with everything Let’s show them we are better

Cole excitedly shares a new idea he’s been working out the chinks of with Horatio and Mark.  Mark nods absently at Cole’s energetic speech but out of the corner of his eyes he’s watching Dani.  Mark’s reminded of how much he likes her smile. When Dani looks up and catches his stare Mark averts his eyes so he doesn’t see Dani’s hesitant smile back.

We breathe in the air of this small town On our own cuttin’ class for the thrill of it Getting drunk on the past we were livin’ in

“To Fridays!” The six of them yell. They knock their glasses together, cheering unanimously before gulping down shots in unison. Immediately, Brooke dissolves into a fitful of giggles and Sereena frowns when Horatio begins pouring them another round. As the night turns into dusk, Dani steals Mark’s lighter before running down the shoreline. Mark doesn’t waste any time in chasing after her. He catches her in a few quick strides and holds her by the waist. Dani tries to wiggle out of Mark's arms before they feel the ocean's shore lapping at their feet. Mark doesn't relinquish as his hands scrape along her sides until Dani has trouble catching her breath. When Mark finally lets go and Dani’s on her feet again, she gives him his lighter. They stare at each other for a moment, unable to look away until Cole tackles Mark off his feet. The rest of them join in until it becomes a tickle war. Mark quickly gets Brooke and Dani out with his quick reflexes before Sereena tackles him. Horatio and Sereena dance around each other, dodging deftly until their feet get tired. Eventually, Cole’s the winner and claims victory by shouting his full name and puffing his chest.

Let’s show them we are Show them we are Let’s show them we are Show them we are Let’s show them we are better

The bonfire’s embers flickers in and out when they finally return to it. Mark tends to it quickly as the rest of them settle around it in a semi-circle. Horatio begins strumming his guitar and Brooke drops her head to Sereena’s shoulder. Dani helps Mark in kindling more wood and their hands innocently brush. When it’s warm again they settle beside Brooke and Sereena. Mark’s arm carelessly rests around Dani’s shoulders. They’re close as they can be, huddled together for warmth without being too close to the bonfire’s ardent flames. The lights flicker and dances to the beat of the gentle breeze as they nurse their beers. Horatio hums quietly until Brooke goads him to sing louder. Horatio acquiesces with a small smile, breaking out into song. Cole grins as Horatio sings in hushed tones the song that Cole’s had on repeat.

Let’s show them we are better Let’s show them we are better If we go down Let’s show them we are better If we go down Let’s show them we are better 

They all join in and their voices fill the empty space. The silence disappears as the noiseless night becomes alive. They laugh and sing their hearts out. They shove their hands in the air and dance. They pass beers between themselves and spill them on each other clumsily when their movements began to become slower. They playfully tease and bump each others shoulders as their voices carry and seem to almost reverberate within the corners of their hearts. Horatio’s patient fingers continue to play expertly on his guitar, keeping in tune with their voices.

If we go down then we go down together We'll get away with everything Let's show them we are better

They’re all different but it’s their differences that makes their friendship special, makes them unique. Although they’re all distinct in their own ways, coming from different walks of life - it’s their difference that helps them to understand each other. To somehow fit inside this big universe. It’s their difference that helps to tell their story.

X.