crowd flying

portuguesesinnerwrites  asked:

Hello! How about a hc with the RFA+V where the bus is full and MC ends up having to stand next to their s/o (they are complete strangers) the whole ride, she ends up bumping into them so both begin a conversation and they get out in the same exit and boom: MC is actually their new neighbor. (You can leave Jumin out I understand if this one is complicated for him) Thanks :D

We included Jumin! Couldn’t leave him out;) Hope you like this one~ 


  • He was taking the bus back home from work again how modest
  • But he got off a little earlier than normal, so the bus was jam-packed
  • He was getting a bit bored, and no one was in the messenger
  • So why not leave a selfie of himself there?
  • When he took it, he noticed you in the background
  • Yeah, he thought you were cute, but that wasn’t the only reason…you could him dead in the act and he could see you judging him silently
  • He avoids eye contact most of the time, but more people come in and the bus hits a sharp turn and now he’s holding you up
  • “You’re the guy with the selfies, right?” you chuckle
  • He’s a little embarrassed, but explains and it strikes up a conversation
  • Turns out you LOVE musicals, even though you haven’t heard a lot of his work
  • You’re asking him so many questions about what he wants, and he can’t help but notice you concentrate on his work and not his looks
  • It’s a breath of fresh air
  • He’s a little disappointed when he arrives to his stop
  • He’s half tempted to ask you for your number, but other people are scooting out and the chaos drowns his confidence
  • He thinks you’re just scooting out of the bus to make room, but turns out you’re heading in the same direction
  • A few questions later, he finds out you’re his new neighbor and he tries to contain his excitement.
  • When you arrive, you pull out your phone “I want to take a selfie with my new neighbor.”
  • He didn’t miss your teasing tone
  • It actually became a little tradition for you two to take a selfie when you came back at the same time…and neither one of you would admit to loving the fact you have a trail of memories as the months go by and you grow closer


  • He got onto the bus at the last minute thinking he could fit
  • He didn’t realize it was already jammed
  • Unfortunately, you were the one closest to the door, leaving you two crammed together in the corner
  • You both were feeling really awkward, since you were super close
  • Yoosung was avoiding eye contact for most of the ride
  • But to make things worse, another two people piled in on the next stop, bumping you even closer into him
  • He’s still trying to avoid contact, so he’s staring down at your shoes
  • He realizes you both are wearing the same color converse
  • “Hehe, nice shoes,” he mutters
  • This relieves some of the discomfort, and next thing you know, you two are talking about your respective college classes and complaining about professors
  • You guys don’t hear a stop being called, and the door opens behind you
  • The pressure from the crowd sends you both flying out onto the grass
  • You can’t help but laugh at the whole ordeal
  • Afterwards, you brush yourself off and say your goodbyes
  • And then awkwardly start walking in the same direction…
  • You chuckle, “Are you stalking me or something?” 
  • He gets really flustered and vehemently denies, ending up blurting out his whole address dork
  • It hits you that you happened to be neighbors
  • When he hears this, he gets a bit more bold, “You know…I know this great pizza place nearby… “
  • “Yoosung…I know…I live here too.”


  • She was on her way home from a musical at the local theatre
  • And of course her car broke down
  • After it was towed, she took a bus home
  • There were no seats available, so most people had to stand
  • You came in with your arms full of books, and some impatient guy bumped you while trying to get off the bus
  • Your books went tumbling onto the ground
  • Feeling bad, she stooped down to help you
  • In the process, a photocard of Zen tumbled out of one of your notebooks
  • Embarrassed, you trying to cover it up, but she just stops you
  • You two exchange glances…and you know you have a connection
  • You start talking about his musicals and you’re fangirling a little when she says he’s a good friend
  • But this is only the beginning of your conversation  
  • She finds herself opening up to you easily–which is odd because you’re just a stranger
  • When it comes time to switch buses, you two end up on the same one
  • Getting curious, you ask if she lives in the same town you do
  • Turns out she lives closer than the same town…you live in the same apartment building
  • You get really close and talk through the walls sometime
  • “Hey, Jaehee! That’s my favorite song. Turn it up, fam!”


  • Zen made a comment that Jumin wouldn’t be able to survive one bus ride through town
  • To prove him wrong, Jumin decides to take it home from work one day
  • He regrets everything
  • You’re standing beside him on this ride, and you can see how tense he was
  • Every time someone sneezed or coughed without covering their mouth, you could see it threatening his sanity
  • You chuckle when he seems to be squeezing one of the bars so tightly, his knuckles turn white
  • “You okay?” you chuckle
  • He politely nods, “Yes…I don’t really enjoy crowded areas.”
  • “Then, you really shouldn’t have taken public transportation, buddy.”
  • Although he appreciates when you move a little to the side to give you space with a small smile
  • He’s refreshed at how casually you speak to him despite his three piece suit
  • He explains the whole situation, and you find great amusement in it
  • This sparks up a conversation and when it’s near the end, he’s showing you pictures of Elizabeth the 3rd on his phone
  • When you guys arrive, he notices you enter the building next to his
  • He finds himself trying to strike up a conversation while you wait for the bus or a taxi before work
  • After a few months, he finds he’s not satisfied with ten minute conversations in the morning and offers to drive you to work on occasion
  • A few months more and he’s asking you out to dinner


  • He would’ve loved to take his babies, but he knows Vanderwood puts trackers on them
  • So, he opts to take a bus into town for a little break
  • He ends up falling asleep
  • You’re sitting next to him on the crowded bus and you notice
  • You wake him up, saying you were concerned he would miss his stop
  • He’s kind of touched, considering you’re just a stranger
  • He notices a pin on your bag of a cat in space and sparks up a conversation by it
  • Sometimes, you don’t understand what he’s saying, but you still find him intriguing
  • You both are so engrossed in the conversation, it’s almost natural when he walks off of the bus with you
  • You mention that your place is nearby, and he kind of deflates
  • You realize you’re a little disappointed as well…it was odd how well you two got along
  • You guys part ways and you return to your apartment
  • You decide to go get some dinner, and to your surprise you see him sitting on a bench nearby
  • You think he lives in the next building, so you go up to him
  • “Hey! Want to grab some pizza, neighbor?”
  • This makes him laugh and he corrects you
  • You end up exchanging numbers and going out for pizza often
  • Although it becomes an inside joke between you, and you still call each other “neighbor” despite him living in the middle of nowhere


  • You’re on the bus home and you notice another man comes in as well
  • You can’t stop staring, because his aesthetics are too perfect to be true
  • He has mint hair, sunglasses tucked into his plaid button up, a backback on his shoulders a camera hanging from his neck
  • You decide to send a “discreet” picture to your best friend
  • Except the sound was on oops
  • He notices and you hide your face in embarrassment
  • He gives you a smile and asks if he can see it, since he’s a photographer
  • You try to say it came out blurry along with an apology, but you can’t deny it…since you did take a pic so blatantly
  • He actually compliments you on the photo
  • “Wow, you must be a natural. You know how to recognize an artistic shot.”
  • “Heck yeah, I do,” you say with a glance at him
  • You didn’t mean to say that outloud, but he only laughs again
  • When you two get off at the same stop AND the same street, he makes a comment about how it was fate you two met on the bus
  • You laugh until you realize his house is right next to yours
  • The next day you find a photograph in your mailbox
  • He wrote a little note on the back saying he thought of you when he took it 

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Blue Magic (Cover)
Ly & Dom
Blue Magic (Cover)

(i suggest you wait for the ending of the song cos goddamn that piano is my fave part tbh)

Piano by @cosmiicowl
Vocals by me

Your fave duo is back! “Blue Magic” was written by Jack Pendarvis and this song was used in the episode “Winter Light” from the Elements mini-series.

Here are Ly’s chords!

G                                                          Em
It’s a humid night, the moon is getting full again
G                                                                 Em
Somewhere there’s a slight figure made of paraffin
       D                                    C                D                                 C
And someone is turning it’s head, and someone is pulling it’s leg
     Am         C        D
It’s magic

G                                                               Em 
It’s a restless crowd, the doves are flying from his sleeves
G                                               Em 
One girl’s not so loud like a convert she believes
          D                                    C             D                                            C
She’s always been looking for wires but now she knows none are required
     Am        C        D
It’s magic

[ interlude: G Em G Em D C D C Am C D ]

G                                                          Em 
Wrap me up in chains with the magic words you say
G                                                     Em 
I can use my brains I can make my [ Em ] getaway
      D                             C       D                                     C
But I will be your volunteer if you make this love disappear

        Am      C            Am         C
Like magic,         like magic

G Em G Em D C D C

   Am        C     D    G7

How Drunk Was I?

Originally posted by sansasandorshipper

Michael Gray x Reader

Request: Hi I saw you wanted prompts, would you be able to do the “How drunk was I?” Prompt For Michael please?

*Peaky Blinders Requests Are Open*

Y/N’s face contorted as she gained consciousness. Her eyes felt like they were glued shut and her head felt like a stick of dynamite had gone off in it. She rolled over, with great difficulty mind you, an groaned.

“Good morning to you, too,” Y/N’s eyes snapped open and stared at the man in her bed. She felt around. Nope, not her bed. Michael was smoking a cigarette. The sheets were pooled at his hips, leaving his chest bare. Red smudges and lip stains were present along his face, neck and chest.

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anonymous asked:

How would the UT, US, UF and SF skele-bros react on their wedding day with their S/O when suddenly, the S/O's (most probably racist) father objects?


“yeaaah… okay no.” He elopes away with his S/O. Normally, he’d salt the heck out of the dad but he doesn’t want to further ruin the day.


He actually might cry. He’s seen these things happen before in movies but he never thought… Sans tackles the guy and drags him away, yelling at Pap to carry on before disappearing from one blink to the next with the dad. Oh. He kind of wanted to sit down and sort things out but… this works too?


So this is the fucker he’s been hearing so much about. He straight up gets in the old man’s face, ranting off every single shitty thing he’s ever done to his S/O in front of everyone, getting angrier and angrier the more he talks till magic is bleeding from his eye and he’s basically snarling and is one heartbeat away from landing a punch. He ends things with, “so ya still object? no? thought so.”


He will literally summon an attack on the guy if no one stops him. He’s pissed. How dare an old FLAB OF SENTIENT MEAT challenge him on the ONE HAPPIEST day of his life?! How DARE he ruin his OWN DAUGHTER’S happiness? HE DOES NOT DESERVE TO LIVE (dear gods someone hold him back)


His brother forces the father to sit down with his gravity magic the moment he stands up, stopping things from happening in the first place.


He accepts the objection, nodding at every point the father makes, then proceeds with the ceremony immediately after the father has said his peace. Basically, “I understand the council has made a decision but given that it’s a stupid ass decision, I’ve elected to ignore it.”


“I OBJECT!” The old man bellowed, face contorting as spittle flew from his mouth from the force of his words. The assembled crowd gasps, murmurings flying like arrows. Then all at once, a slam, they quietened. The groom stormed off the pedestal, crackling with dark energy as his coat swelled with an unfelt wind.
A startled yell, the bride’s father rose from his feet, hovering several feet off the ground before slowly being pinned against the nearest pillar. Panicked cries erupted from the crowd.
“I OBJECT…” Sans began, gathering the collar fabric of his father in law’s dress shirt in his fist, “TO YOUR OBJECTION.”


His longest deep sigh ever. He just ignores the father and carries on as though he didn’t hear the objection. He stares down the priest and the other officials until they go along with him and ignore the father. 

i-wanna-shelter-y0u  asked:

You got some proposal drarry layin around???

There really is no excuse for why this is so late except for my procrastination and I am so sorry.

The World Cup

It was absolutely pouring. Raindrops hit the grass relentlessly, making a muddy mess of the quidditch pitch and soaking the raucous crowd to the core. This fact, however, did nothing to deter the hundreds of thousands of World Cup spectators who sat huddled together against the cold, waving British flags or wearing Irish hats. They watched in wonder as the British and Irish teams flew out onto the pitch, rain soaking them the second they were out in the open. The British team was eye catching in their blue and white uniforms, doing complex tricks on their brooms and taking a lap around the pitch as the crowd cheered.

Draco Malfoy sat, completely dry, in the Minister’s box, omnioculars pressed firmly to his face. His attention was fixated on the British team, even as the Irish made their grand entrance. He took a moment to put the omnioculars in slow motion; for the single reason that he would be able to make out the name ‘Potter’ on the back of what looked to be just a blue streak on the pitch.

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Hermione yelled into the blonde’s ear, trying to make herself heard. Draco grinned and nodded, turning his attention to the minister.

“Extremely. I can’t believe Harry made it to the World Cup-” I tell her, nearly shaking in excitement.

“His life’s really been something, hasn’t it? First, vanquisher of Dark Lords, now, vanquisher of IRISH ASS!” Ron excitedly bellowed next to him, wrapping an arm around the blonde’s shoulder and shaking him with excitement. Draco elbowed him gently with a laugh.

“Careful, Weasley, this suit is worth more than your entire business.” Draco joked, and Ron smirked.

“Doubtful.” Ron replied rolling his eyes, and turning his attention back to the pitch where the match was about to begin, Draco following suit. Hermione rose to her feet, visibly shaking with what could either be nerves or excitement; it was hard to tell.

She walked out onto the balcony, rain sticking to her bushy hair, but her not having a care in the world. She put her wand to her throat to magnify the sound of her voice so that everyone in the gargantuan stadium could hear her.

“As Minister of Magic, it’s with honor and delight that I welcome every single one of you to the four hundred and thirty second Quidditch World Cup!” Her words were met with thousands of cheers and screams; rosettes and flags of blues and greens waving through the air. “I’d like to wish both teams good luck, and with that, let the match begin!” Hermione finished with a flourish of her wand, sending a small jet of fireworks into the sky as the balls were released.


“-let the match begin!” The voice of Harry’s best friend being cast over hundreds of thousands of spectators gave the man a proud glow. The fact that hundreds of thousands of spectators were there to so him play Quidditch made him beam with happiness as he rode into the sky for a bird’s eye view of the rest of the players.

Harry looked proudly at the rest of his team, all poised to play what would be the best match of his life to date. All of their eyes darted to follow the ball that they were to be after, and in a second flat, all of his teammates and competitors had disappeared in streaks of blue and green.

Harry’s sharp eyes looked for any sign of the golden snitch, rain bouncing off his glasses thanks to a spell Hermione taught him in his third year. The announcer’s commentary was lost to the scar-headed boy, who slowly made his way around the pitch, glancing every once in a while at the Irish seeker to make sure he wasn’t trying anything.

“-and ten points to Britain!” The commentator announced cheerfully. Harry continued circling the pitch, getting lower and lower. A clap of thunder rumbled overhead, shaking Harry to the bone.

As the game wore on, Harry was becoming aware of the closing gap between his team’s score and the Irish. It was one hundred and thirty to one hundred and ten, with the British in the lead. Harry decided it was time to get sneaky.

He dove straight down, feigning sight of the snitch. The brunette heard a loud gasp from the crowd and grinned, still flying down, down, down. He could feel the Irish seeker on his tail, but he continued to plummet, only pulling up a mere five feet from the ground.

As he flew up to safety, watching as the Irishman narrowly avoided a head on collision into a pool of mud and tried to regain his composure. Harry took a lap around the pitch once again as the crowd’s roar gave him energy.

About 15 minutes later, he saw it. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry caught a faint flash of fluttering gold near the British goalposts. He immediately accelerated his broom, nearly flattening himself down onto it to get the most speed possible.

His hands were freezing, as was the rest of him, and his soaked robes seemed to be slowing him down. Yet Harry didn’t care. He had the wind in his hair an the snitch in his sights and like hell was he going to let a bit of rain stop him.

In the corner of his eye, he could just see a fast approaching green speck trying to catch him. It wouldn’t reach the Potter fast enough. Harry dodged an Irish chaser, and kept going, all of his being set on catching that snitch; so focused in fact, that he didn’t see the bludger that was fast approaching him.

“Fuck!” Harry yelled when the bludger made contact with his ribs. He felt a crack and knew for sure that a few were cracked, if not completely broken. Yet on he flew, chasing the snitch around the goalposts until he finally closed his fingers around the cold tiny ball, his vision turning white around the edges from the pain.

The deafening yell of the spectators encompassed Harry’s entire being, but as they cheered for him, and his teammates beckoned him to join them on the ground, Harry just turned his broom around and booked it straight for the Minister’s box.

His eyes connected with Draco’s in pure happiness, blinding pain forgotten as he looked in the blonde’s eyes which just radiated pride and joy. As he got closer and closer, a thought ran through his mind on what he would say to Draco when he reached him.

“Harry!” Draco’s voice carried above the others, even Ron’s and Hermione’s. In that moment, Harry didn’t give a damn what his friends would think, or his family or the world for that matter. All he could think of was that he just won the fucking World Cup and he was going to do something crazy on his victory induced high.

The second Harry reached the railing, he pulled Draco’s face to meet his in a tender kiss; he heard cried of joy from the spectators; apparently he was on the Jumbotron. The second he pulled back, Harry asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue for months.

“Draco-” he said, and suddenly the stadium was dead silent, with only the sound of the rain and the fast beating of Harry’s heart could be heard in the man’s ears. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes. Yes yes YES!” Draco screamed, and barriers be damned he jumped onto Harry’s broom, hugging the brunette and crying tears of joy as the crowd roared. “I love you, you fucking scarhead.” Draco cried in Harry’s ear, kissing him hard.

“I love you too, ferret.” Harry smirked, and lowered them to the ground, stumbling with pain trying to stand up. Draco smiled and put his arm around his finance.

“Let healer Malfoy fix you up.” And together they walked into the locker room, ready to start a new life.

Animus [V]

{{ noun // strong dislike or enmity; hostile attitude; animosity }}

It was hatred at first sight.

Fluff. Demon AU. 3,031 words.

Catalyst Series: a collaboration with @dreamscript and @zephyoongist

Seokjin / Yoongi / Hoseok / Namjoon / Jimin / Taehyung / Jungkook

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

The first time you met Kim Taehyung was a complete accident.

Granted, the first meeting only lasted a few seconds, but his impression on you was deeply engraved in your mind.

To put it lightly, he was a grade A, certified asshole.

That day seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. You were successfully melding in with the rest of the mortals on earth with the use of a temporary black spell, hiding your ebony feathered wings from the rest of the world for a few hours. Strolling down the crowded streets, your heart quickened when you brushed against a hunter, feeling the slight bulge of a shiny, curved weapon hidden beneath his worn jacket. That scythe-like blade had reaped countless wings of your brothers, sisters, and natural enemies alike, robbing them of their immortality and good graces. Forcing yourself to breathe normally and stopping yourself from trembling in slight fear, you willed yourself to not break out into a run right then and there.

Millenniums ago, humans had revered the angels and feared the demons. But in present time, they had gotten smarter, more violent, more vicious, more dangerous. They crafted and wielded sharp weapons of the darkest metals encrypted with the deadliest of poisons and curses. They called themselves hunters, and although they were a small bunch out of the entire mortal population while the rest remained oblivious to immortals, they were deadly and multiplying fast.

You had only relished in a few minutes of freedom passing between the cracked buildings and lampposts under the guise of fairy lights and the strumming of nearby street performers when a sudden shout had you widening your eyes in fright and panic. A male demon who seemed to be around your age came barreling towards you, a wicked grin slithering across his face as he grabbed you by the arm and shoved you into the direction of an angry mob of hunters currently scattering the panicking crowd of people.

“Take her wings instead!” he screamed before breaking out into a sprint and disappearing around the corner.

That little fucker.

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One Night

One Night - A Rebelcaptain au

read it on ao3

They meet at a crowded bar, and sparks fly. She’s mesmerized by his dark eyes and easy wit, he’s smitten with her aloofness that belies a hidden intensity. A few drinks later they’re making out in the car, and barely make it to the bed in her apartment. She wakes alone, and never hears from him again. Weeks later, she misses her period, and there’s only one guy she’s been with lately…

Rated: Explicit

Words: 2101

(For @thenewleeland and everyone else who encouraged me to write this)

“You need to get laid.”


“What! I’m serious. You need to lighten up.”

Jyn grumbled to herself, suddenly regretting the little outburst she’d just had after finding out someone had nicked her yogurt from the office fridge again.

“Seriously, Jyn. It’s just yogurt.” Bodhi was still going on, typing away mindlessly at his computer, “You need to get back into the dating pool, find a nice boy, and fuck him.”

“For god’s sake.” Jyn muttered, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes.

“Who knows, you might just enjoy yourself, and you’ll give the rest of us a break from your yogurt-snatching tirades.” there were nods and murmurs from the other people in their pod, and Jyn was mortified to realize they had overheard the entire conversation.

“Fine!” she retorted, loud enough for everyone else to hear, “Just to get you all off my back, I’ll find some random guy to sleep with!”

Muted cheers went around the pod, and every pod within a ten foot radius. Jyn dropped her head into her hands.

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Whenever a Clouded yellow touches down it folds its wings, which is a pity because the the top of the wings are a startling deep rich yellow,bordered by black,which really makes it stand out from the crowd when it’s flying. Don’t know how many times I’ve chased one down a lane hoping that this time it may just leave those wings open a fraction of a second for me to get that shot. I’ll get that open wing shot one day! In the meantime…

Highland Park, the dirty place, where you can find spare parts in the gutters. When we had dreams as long as the pink jump rope in the garage, we were kings. I could never find the tire pump for my old bicycle, my mom squeezed my shoulder with bloody hands and told me not to bother. I stepped into the streetlight. I didn’t come out.

Pasadena, the stairwell city, where high school gave us aviation lessons in a leaking plane with no glasses on. We end up in the crowd at school basketball games every single night like we are scared we will miss something transcendent. Like we will see something in the moment that ball and his brown knuckles meet the rim, something that sends the Gods off of their thrones, kids into the street drinking water from broken fire hydrants slipping in their fresh sneaks, screaming nursery rhymes between rainbow braces like long dormant volcanoes. We don’t have to grow up to feel this way, us brown kids, us brown kids. I think I’m crying, I think I’m gonna cry. I shoot up and scream foul at an empty gym in my dreams. Please don’t forget about me. Please think of me some nights. Please laugh in your gen ed classes with your new best friends half eagle flights away, with your sneakers in knots, please laugh at something silly I said 5 years ago, when you are lonely in the crowd and flying solo like the red cup in your hand, when you are dripping like a Dali painting at the laundromat, and if somebody asks you what’s so funny say, “Nothing, just this kid I knew from back home.” When you are washed and hung out to dry, when you are crying in your dorm room and fear like soap bitter in your mouth because you are supposed to be an adult and now nobody is there for you: Plant me somewhere you don’t feel safe and. I will make you safe. Again.

South Pasadena, the glass sanctuary, where I didn’t get into the 5th grade play and held my tongue until it was too soft for anyone to give a rats ass. They call me sweet, and give me ginger snaps. The old thrift shop where they gave out free condoms is still standing on the corner, hip popped, habits still just as bad. Who do you think is throwing away their memories in garbage bags there now? Who do you think is wearing somebody else’s war? I could ask you to say sorry but you’d have bubblegum in your mouth. I could ask you to clean up your act but the sinkhole in the boarded up movie theater is just local legend by now.

Massachusetts, the something awful state, the dreams under my shoes and my back hurts to much to bend down and dust them off. There is something sharp cutting the hands of two rowdy lake poison slinging Irish Catholic boys in the bathroom of the Malden recreation center, there is something sharp and it is making them into blood brothers, and God as my witness it is my tongue.

Some plants are meant to be touched. Some flowers are meant to make crowns but I am not, and I am neither.

Shadows and Silhouettes

For the Drabble Games! As requested by the infinitely gorgeous @fromthedeskoftheraven​! It went a bit… sad. :(

Bard x Reader: “Tell me a secret.”

Warnings: Angst, burns

Word Count: 1467… *hits self with newspaper* BAD IMMA!


Time was playing tricks on you. Everything seemed to be moving too fast and too slow simultaneously and you wished for it to all stop. For everything to stop. For time to take pity on you and let you flee entirely. You ran as best you could through the crowds gathered along the shore, your heavy, waterlogged dress clinging to your legs and slowing your movements.

Please, let them be alright.

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