in other words, send me the following in my messages or ask box bc i’m bored:
~ some random aus bc i love reading those
~ confessions, either about me, about a fandom, or just in general
~ tell me about your crush
~ make random ass assumptions about me (what you think my voice sounds like, what you think i look like, etc)
~ would you rather
~ literally a n y t h i n g
Minghao got into a late night text conversation with you despite knowing about an early schedule the next morning. His first message, ‘Baby, are you sleeping?,’ was sent to you at 11:48pm. He sat on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He was having one of his deeply emotional moments, and wanted to talk to you.
‘I was. What’s up?’ 11:57pm.
‘I was thinking about something…’
‘Uh oh. That’s never good.’
‘Kidding, Hao. What were you thinking about?’
‘What would you be doing if you didn’t meet me?’
‘Hmm… I would probably be fussing over this one cute Chinese fellow in this amazing group… Maybe you know the group? Seventeen?’ You replied at 12:04am.
‘Which one? ;)’
‘How dare thee.’
‘Oi, you know I love you, Hao. Now why this question at this time?’
‘I dunno… I was thinking about you.’
‘Aw, that so sweet. Do you dream about me, too?’ 12:09am.
‘Of course I do. I like to dream about you and me and our future together.’
‘Well, don’t leave me hanging, Hao. What do you see?’ Minghao took a little bit to figure out what and how to write his hopes and dreams with you.
‘I see you and me. Plain and simple. You would be there for me through out the entirety of my career with Seventeen. I don’t know where we would end up, but you and I would be together forever. I see us growing old together, having children and grandchildren, being so completely in love until the end of our days. I guess it’s rude and selfish, but I want to go before you. I don’t want to live without you. I don’t think I can. What do you see?’ 12:27pm. He waited patiently for you to reply, but it never came.
Minghao kept checking his phone every thirty seconds while lying on his bed. When the clock hit 12:41am, he got out of bed and put on a sweatshirt. As quietly as he could, he grabbed his dorm keys, as well as the key you gave him for your apartment, and left. He didn’t know why you weren’t responding; you were usually awake past midnight getting things done for work, or watching movies. He doubted that you were asleep, and immediately assumed the worst.
He sprinted to your apartment, a distance of just over 10 minutes. He got to your front door and quickly unlocked it. He shut the door and took off his shoes. He knew you had a dog, and was assuming the pet would be asleep. Minghao was in for a surprise when the pup began barking up a storm and running back and forth from him to your bedroom doorway. Minghao furiously shook his head. He crouched down and caught your dog in his arms. “No, no! It’s just me! Look!” While trying to restrain the struggling dog with one arm, he turned on a light in the main corridor of your apartment. When the light came on, the dog caught sight of Minghao and calmed down. Minghao was greeted with a few licks on his cheeks. “Get out, burglar!” You groaned, running out of your room in your sleep clothes. You were armed with a broom and ran at who you thought was an intruder. You stopped in your tracks when you saw that the intruder was actually Minghao, holding your dog in his arms. He smiled and put down the pup, who ran away into the apartment. You looked unimpressed with him. Minghao opened his mouth to explain, and stuttered when he saw your hands grip the broom tighter. “I-I d-didn’t know you were as-s-sleep.” “It’s 1am,” you deadpanned. “You never replied to my text.” “I fell asleep.” “Please don’t hit me,” Minghao said. He wrestled the broom from your hand and led you back to your room. “I got worried and wanted to make sure you were okay,” he mumbled as he tucked you in. “I want to grow old with you, too,” you mumbled and fell asleep.
With a soft exhale, Minghao knelt beside you and kissed your forehead gently. He quietly locked and left your apartment, sprinted home, and got back into his bed. Minghao fell into a sound and deep sleep with a gentle smile, now that he knew you were alright, and that you loved him as much as he loved you.
Unfortunately, he didn’t wake up on time that morning.
Jin: When he came home after practice, he had been surprised to hear BTS blasting from the kitchen. Following the booming noise, he walked into the room to find you dancing violently. Avoiding your arms so he wouldn’t be smacked in the face, he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, halting your movement by laughing into the crook of your neck.
“This was something I never expected myself to come home to.”
Yoongi: He had found you sitting by the side of your pool, dipping your legs into the chilly water. Yoongi’s eyes widen when he sees your phone dangling from your fingertips over the water’s surface. After swiping your phone away from it’s death and putting it in a safe place, aka his pocket, he takes a minute to stare at you like you’re the most insane person he’s ever met.
“What do you even think you’re doing?”
“I was just thinking about what would happen if I dropped my phone in the water. I think the case is waterproof.”
“You think the case is waterproof? I have some advice, don’t hold your phone over water period.”
J-hope: Coming home from practicing new choreography, he was shocked to find you wide awake with it being past midnight. You were absorbed in your phone, swiping through social media with earbuds in. After tapping you on the head and asking why you’re still up, he realized you weren’t listening to music, just sitting on your phone in complete silence. Realizing your little mistake, J-hope bursts into laughter before you can figure out what’s so funny.
“Are you listening to music?”
“You realize there’s no music playing, correct?”
Namjoon: The waiter had specifically told you not to touch the hot plate of food, and what did you decide to do? You sat and stared at the steaming meal before reaching out and placing the tip of your finger on the edge of the plate. The heat had burned your finger quite a bit by the time you gained sense to pull it away. You looked up to fine Namjoon with an unimpressed expression, but an adoring smile lingering on his lips.
“Jagi, sometimes I just don’t understand you.”
Jimin: It was a calm day at the lake and all Jimin wanted was to relax peacefully with his beautiful girlfriend. What he didn’t expect was for you to bust his eardrums when you suddenly screamed. You had jumped onto him in the lake water, clinging to his arm as you pointed at the water. You had claimed to see a shark, but when Jimin decided to investigate, all he found was a little fish that must have nibbled on your foot.
“I swear I saw a shark!”
“Jagiya, that’s a fish and second of all, we’re in a lake.”
Taehyung: You had offered to play music from your phone while the two of you cooked breakfast, something you guys had been trying for a couple weeks now. Claiming that you’d just shuffle and let the music be, Tae finds it adorable when he catches you flipping through songs still with a determined face. The perfect song for pancake making.
“I thought you were- Wait! Did you just skip a BTS song?”
Jungkook: Coming home, he found his girlfriend positioned in front of the fridge, repeatedly opening and closing it while peering through the crack in the door. He would understand what you were doing right away and even join you, making it a competition.
“Whoever can successfully cut off the fridge lights while still seeing it wins! Loser has to buy winner ice cream.”
(I can low-key see him sitting and doing this forever)
— ｡ • * ･ prompt : “ i know i keep coming to the cookie shop and for some reason it’s always your shift but don’t you dare judge me i need these for my sanity.” ( source )
summary :mark focuses better at 2am. his only problem? he gets hungry. his solution? you. word count : 1,057 pairing : mark lee x reader if u squint genre : college au, fluff a/n : third person pov sorta ?? bc i wanted it to be omniscient but focused on mark ghdsjak ALSO lmk if i should make a part two or something ?? this was my first time writing like this too so sorry if it sucked a lot omg
A heavy sigh drifts from your lips as you gaze around your dim room lit up by the small lamp beside the bed. You’re lying on your side, one arm under the weight of your pillow and head as the other rests over your stomach. With a gentle shift, you try to find a comfortable spot but it only becomes more uncomfortable. A frown tugs at your lips as you lay awake half past midnight, your heart heavy with adrenaline but your mind empty of thoughts.
Suddenly, the space behind you shifts. There’s a small pause before a warm hand falls onto the curve of your hip, thumb rubbing circles into your side.
“Still can’t sleep?” Seungcheol croaked as he slowly awakens from his slumber. He can barely open his eyes, only peeking through the crack of one eye.
“Yeah…” You mumble under your sigh that causes your shoulders to deflate.
“Come here,” he pulls at your hip, urging you to turn around and you do.
Seungcheol’s arm completely engulf you into his warmth. Your nose is buried into his shoulder as his natural scent stains your skin and clothes. The skin of his bare back is silk smooth under your fingertips as they run all over, finding something to hold onto. His long legs become tangled with your as his hips fill the emptiness within your arms.
Your mind is filled with serenity and your heart is at ease now.
“Better,” his husky, sleepy voice asked.
“Much better.” You whisper softly, your lips just barely kissing his skin.
“Good,” Seungcheol pecks your forehead and buries you deep into his embrace
You hum in reply. The frown upon your face turns upside down as you finally close your eyes.
Ryou is often awake past midnight to think up new RPG campaigns. Bakura is often awake because he’s a spirit and he needs to make sure the God cards and the Millennium Items are safe.
Ryou is skinny and perhaps doesn’t eat much but might binge on occasions. Bakura only eats a piece of steak, as TKB he would starve and then eat a huge amount in one sitting.
Ryou is such a nerd with his messy hair he rarely combs it. Bakura simply doesn’t care.
Ryou knows the Millennium Ring is dangerous but keeps it around anyway because he loves occult stuff and thought the spirit has reformed. Bakura resides in the Ring along with a literal embodiment of darkness that can help him kill the Pharaoh.
Ryou would kill himself to protect classmates he barely knew. Bakura gave up his soul and humanity to a dark power if it means he can avenge his slaughtered friends and family.
Conclusion: Self-care doesn’t fucking exist in the Bakuras’ dictionary.
A ten year old Gustave de Chagny sat beside his unconscious mother’s hospital bed. The faint beeping from her heart monitor provided the young boy no comfort, however the arm wrapped around him did.
Gustave’s dark eyes looked up at the masked man, to which said arm belonged. He felt a lump develop in his throat as he thought of the haunted half of a face hiding behind that mysterious mask. Gustave heard his heart pound in his ears, as the urge to say something, anything, to the silently crying man, grew stronger. He couldn’t think of what words to use, however.
Mr. Y obviously wasn’t his real name, but Gustave couldn’t bring himself to call the tall, dark-haired man “Papa” either. At least not yet. After a few more moment of worrisome, yet not uncomfortable silence. Gustave opened his mouth to address his father, but out of the corner of his eye, saw Christine stir.
“Mother!” He cried instead, rushing over to kneel by her side. She gently reached out and grasped his hand, before shifting her gaze to above Gustave’s head, and faintly extending her other hand in that direction.
The man took her hand as gingerly as ever, and carefully knelt beside Gustave. His skeletal resembling hand looked even more so when holding
Christine smiled, her youthful looking eyes as bright as ever, despite the healing gunshot wound hidden underneath bed sheets and bandages.
“Gustave, I’ll be alright, I promise sweetheart.” The sound of his mother’s soft voice was enough relief to reduce Gustave to tears. Sobs shook his small frame and he clutched onto her hand as if both their lives depended on it.
Christine looked over at the teary-eyed, masked man, “Erik, I-”
But she stopped mid sentence when Erik raised a thin finger. “Christine,” he sang softly, “I love you.”
For the next two weeks, while Christine was healing from her wound, Gustave slept at Erik’s small, well-hidden house, just on the outskirts of Phantasma. Erik had sacrificed his plain bedroom for the couch in his living room, so that his and Christine’s son would get some sort of sleep. On the third night of their little arrangement, Erik opened the door to the bedroom, only to find Gustave lying awake, far past midnight.
“Gustave,” Erik began, taking a deep breath before striding further into the room, and sitting gently at the foot of the plain bed. “Is everything alright?”
The boy sat up slowly, his hair a mess despite his lack of sleep, “Yes…but I- I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about Mother for long enough to.
Erik nodded, and Gustave knew that his father shared his pain. No mask was enough to conceal the way he felt when it came to Christine.
“Usually when I can’t sleep, she sings to me.”
“What does she sing?” Erik’s voice hitched in his throat at the last syllable of his sentence. The mere thought of hearing Christine’s beautiful voice was enough to render him breathless.
“About an angel. An angel of music,” Gustave answered, unaware of Erik’s presence in the songs he so often heard.
“I can do that,” Erik said softly, not meeting Gustave’s eyes as he sung those all too familiar words. “Angel of music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory. Angel of music, hide no longer, secret and strange angel.”
“You know the words,” Gustave remarked, lying back down as Erik stepped towards him.
“I do,” Erik agreed, pausing before pulling the sheets up to Gustave’s chin, “Your mother is not the only one who has heard an angel of music.”
“Do you think I’ll ever meet an angel of music?” Gustave asked thoughtfully, as Erik opened the door to leave.
“If you are lucky, perhaps you may,” Erik carefully responded, pursing his thin lips after he spoke.
“I hope so,” Gustave said quietly, sleepiness seeping into his voice as his eyes closed.
As Erik was leaving he could have sworn he heard the boy say, “Goodnight Papa.” But shook his head and decided it was his imagination.
NOTE: In my original story, this is where I finished, but I soon started a second part. I will release that here too over time.
Cheers erupted from the families of those who arrived home. Most of the men that had come back on the smaller boat first came to the dock to aid in the unloading of the goods. Maebh watched as different families were reunited. She knew she would be expected to act with decorum being she was a princess, but she doubted that she would care for such things when she would finally see Nafi.
She aided with the unloading, pulling a large chest filled with different items many of which were of precious metals and stones. The walk to Odin’s dwelling felt longer than she remembered as she struggled with the weight, though she ensured not to show her effort externally.