music gets louder

Soulmate AU Ideas

Imagine a soulmate au where whenever your soulmate listens to music, you can hear it too and the only way you can find them is when the music they’re listening to gets louder the closer you are to them.

Imagine a soulmate au where you can taste the things that they are eating or drinking and the only way you can find them is to find the places that serve that same kind of food or drink they’re eating/drinking.

Imagine a soulmate au where the heart in your chest is your soulmate’s and you can feel whatever they’re currently feeling and the only way you can find them is when it stops beating. Kind of like taking the “When I first met you, I swear I could feel my heart stop beating” literally.

Imagine a soulmate au where your level of talent at a hobby determines on how close you are to your soulmate.

Imagine a soulmate au where your dreams are a mixture of your soulmate’s past and present memories and the only way you know that you’ve met them is when you see yourself.

Imagine a soulmate au where everyone is given a book at birth with no pages in it and the only way the pages begin to magically appear is when they are finally born. Each chapter is linked to your soulmate’s age and the pages within that chapter represent a day of their life with a small collection of things that they have said throughout the day. The only way you will know that you’ve met your soulmate is when the pages stop appearing and the last thing that was said on the last page is actually the first word or sentence that they said to you.

Imagine a soulmate au where you’re given a necklace that changes to the colors of what they’re currently feeling and the temperature is linked to how close you are to them. For example, nothing being very far away, cold being closer, and warm being they’re right in front of you. But, whenever they take the necklace off of them, the connection is lost and you won’t know what they’re feeling or if you’ve even met each other.


Just a collection of ideas I thought of while I was in the shower :)

NHL Team Gothics
  • Anaheim Ducks: You turn on a Ducks game. The screen is white. It must be Ryan Getzlaf’s bald head, you think. You’re probably right.
  • Arizona Coyotes: You accidentally call them the Phoenix Coyotes. No one corrects you. You’ve never encountered someone with them as their favorite team.
  • Boston Bruins: Chara checks someone into the boards. That someone disappears into thin air. You wonder if they keep a list of people Chara has made disappear like that.
  • Buffalo Sabres: You constantly forget about their existence. Would they be more relevant if they had won the draft lottery and had gotten McDavid, you think sometimes. You forget about them again.
  • Calgary Flames: A Flames game gets interrupted. Someone yells that there’s a child on the ice. It turns out to be Johnny Gaudreau. Gaudreau eats a Snickers on the bench, and scores.
  • Carolina Hurricanes: The Canes are down 6-0. Jeff Skinner smiles at a ref. The Canes are up 6-0.
  • Chicago Blackhawks: Chelsea Dagger starts playing in the distance. Oh no. You start running. The music gets louder. Someone yells: “3 cups in 6 years”. You’re crying. You can’t hide.
  • Colorado Avalanche: Someone on their roster scores. You must be dreaming. They get a win. This can’t be real, you think. The world must be ending.
  • Columbus Blue Jackets: You blankly stare at the TV. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve heard the cannon by now. You stopped counting after 10. Your team still hasn’t scored.
  • Dallas Stars: There’s a fan crying. “Our goalie situation is shit,” they sob. Another fan rubs their back. “At least Tyler Seguin is still hot,” they say. You roll your eyes.
  • Detroit Red Wings: You hear someone cursing Dylan Larkin. “Why can’t he score,” you hear them say. Crying, they cuddle up to their Yzerman hugging pillow.
  • Edmonton Oilers: “McDavid sucks,” someone says. Ten Oilers fans and Milan Lucic appear from nowhere. “You suck,” Lucic says and punches them.
  • Florida Panthers: There’s a ceremony before the game. Jagr is turning 70. Jagr scores the OT winner.
  • Los Angeles Kings: You make eye contact with Anze Kopitar. He looks dead inside. You nod at each other. What is Kopitar losing fate in, you think. You still relate to him.
  • Minnesota Wild: The Wild has a 10 win streak. It ends in a 0-1 loss to an irrelevant team. They start a new 10 win streak.
  • Montreal Canadiens: Carey Price breaks all his limbs. Therrien doesn’t pull him. Shea Weber positions himself on the ice. Al Montoya tells Weber to take the shot while maintaining eye contact with Therrien. Weber shoots. They hire their rivals’ old coach. You wonder if god is real.
  • Nashville Predators: You meet a fan. They’re crying. “How are you?” you ask. They keep sobbing. You notice they’re wearing a Weber jersey. You understand.
  • New Jersey Devils: You watch a Devils game. You can’t remember the score after it. You’re only convinced that Adam Henrique is not real.
  • New York Islanders: John Tavares gives an interview. He’s more plain and boring than you remembered. You can’t stop watching though.
  • New York Rangers: Henrik Lundqvist stops the game to have a photoshoot. The play continues. He’s not in the net. He makes a save. You don’t understand.
  • Ottawa Senators: “Ottawa Senators,” someone says. You have to think for a while. You remember Erik Karlsson. That’s it.
  • Philadelphia Flyers: No one has seen Jakub Voracek’s face in five years. His beard and hair just keep growing. No one knows how to stop the growth.
  • Pittsburgh Penguins: Someone accidentally says “Crosby.” In a minute, there’s someone with a peach emoji. You hear the words Phil Kessel is a Stanley Cup Champion at least once a day.
  • San Jose Sharks: Someone on their roster scores four times. Joe Thornton is somewhere, stroking himself. Despite the lead, Martin Jones sits on the bench with dead eyes.
  • St. Louis Blues: Tarasenko scores. Tarasenko scores again. You wonder if anyone else ever scores for them.
  • Tampa Bay Lightning: No one has seen Steven Stamkos in years. People wish for his return. No one expect nothing though.
  • Toronto Maple Leafs: “Matthews is better than Laine,” someone says. You keep quiet. It doesn’t matter if you agree. You’ll get attacked either way.
  • Vancouver Canucks: Henrik and Daniel Sedin have assisted each other in every goal they’ve scored. You don’t believe they’re two different people until you see them in person. Even after that you’re doubtful.
  • Washington Capitals: Ovechkin is in his spot. Everyone sees him, no one defends him. He shoots, he scores. In the distance, someone says: “Crosby is better.”
  • Winnipeg Jets: “Laine is better than Matthews,” someone says. You keep quiet. It doesn’t matter if you agree. You’ll get attacked either way.
space gothic
  • Around 1% of the static on your tv and radio is cosmic background radiation, leftover energy from the earliest days of existence lingering throughout the universe. You turn the dishes to the sky and tune the signal, filtering out the rest of the interference in an attempt to hear the sound from creation. You hear screaming.
  • Stars shimmer as you gaze at them up in the night sky. They tell you that the twinkling is due to the distortion of the atmosphere, but you see one star flickers in Morse code. When you try to write it down no lead or ink comes out of your pencils and pens. When you try to talk about it your teeth bleed.
  • Your pens float around you. Your water hovers in perfect circles. Everything is floating. You are floating. There is no gravity. You are still on Earth.
  • The massive gravity of Jupiter drags in passing asteroids and comets before they can reach the inside of the solar system. Sometimes they become moons. Other times they are swallowed by the planet, buried underneath massive storms. You watch it from the telescope sometimes, gaping maws peeking out of churning storms, sucking in falling meteors. All the while the Great Red Spot remains fixed, watching you back.
  • You can faintly hear music in the space station. No one is playing any music. The music comes from outside. You press your ear against the walls of the outside and listen. The music gets louder. There is no sound in space.
  • They launch you up into orbit, but you cannot get back down. You jump out of the station, but you do not fall. You sit back and watch the sunrise as satellites tumble and burn up in the atmosphere, leaving you alone.
  • You see the Earth from space. It is not blue. 
Confession

Originally posted by riverrdxle

A/N: I strayed away from the request a bit just to follow a story line that I didn’t really plan, tbh (it just happened, I’m srry). I also switched up my style majorly for this just as an exercise, it’s in 3rd person and all but lemme know what you think and whether this is better, worse, or somewhere in between.

Request:  could you write about Jughead getting a call that the reader just got shitfaced at a party so he has to come get her and take care of her 

Word Count: 3,790 (whoops)

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing (lyk twice)

Keep reading

Pit-A-Pat (Part 1)

Originally posted by mvssmedia

fuckboy!jungkook // high school au

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Smuttish, Romance

Word Count: 3.1K

Description: It all started when Jeon Jungkook moved into the house next door during the first year of high school. His popularity was given as his looks are extraordinary, and not to mention his outstanding grades. Everyone thinks of Jungkook as the perfect person with his good looks, perfect grades, and rich parents. However, Y/N thinks apart from that.

A/N: This wasn’t supposed to be a series but oops. 

MASTERLIST


Keep reading

ナミダメ“ゴ”ミヤダイゴの場合 Sample Voice 2
金剛山寿一 (???)
ナミダメ“ゴ”ミヤダイゴの場合 Sample Voice 2

ナミダメ“ゴ”ミヤダイゴの場合 Sample Voice 2 (CV: ???)

*NSFW, headphones advised!  ( ≖‿≖ )

Release Date: May 26th, 2017.

bonnie & clyde

mobster! dean au pt 1

 →word count: 3.9k

 →warnings: smut; references to sexual abuse;

 →a/n: i know dean isn’t exactly a kpop idol, but i really love him and his music, he is one of my favourite artists at the moment. me and my friend were both loving the idea of gangsta! dean or mobster! dean and it got my creative juices flowing (soz that’s kinda gross).

pt2 here

Originally posted by iaxifin

“oi, baby, get you’re hot ass over here,” dom calls over to you, “my lap’s feelin’ a little lonely.”

you sighed to yourself and made your way over to him, his harsh hands cuffing onto your waist, like you’d dare escaping such a man.

“my boys were saying how you were having a little chat with the delivery guy yesterday.”

his grip immediately tightened painfully as you look at his lackeys all hanging their heads sheepishly. you got along well with his guys, so the fact that they got you into trouble like this made you feel betrayed.

“baby,” you put on a fake voice to cover up your fear, “it was nothing like that, he was just being polite.”

he gave you a twisted smile, “well maybe he should know next time to stay away from what’s not his.”

his hand clutches onto your wrist instead and he drags you off of his lap and down the corridor to his room. you knew what this meant.

“i’m gonna make sure that everyone in this whole building knows who you belong to.”

dom’s party had just kicked off downstairs in the club, the bass of the music coming up from under your feet.

after what happened earlier with dom and you, you’d rather die than sit on his lap all night like his little pet.

it was a few years ago when you became dom’s ‘pet’ after you courageously stepped in for your ex boyfriend and told dom to take you instead of him. but the minute your ex got out, he had moved on immediately. it was a foolish idea, to think that your boyfriend would save you. but you were so young and naive then. so you were stuck as dom’s and there was no escape. you were trapped and labelled as “his” forever.

you look over to you’re shared bed with dom and see a note with a box laying there.

because you should always look like a princess.

d x

in the box laid a silk dusty rose cami style dress. as beautiful as it was, you didn’t want it. it was just a way to try and win your affection, but there was no real love or kindness intended by it.

but you wore it anyway because if you didn’t, there’d be a repeat of earlier’s events.

in the elastic of your stockings, you slipped your pistol in case things tonight got ugly with any unwanted guests. dom may have been a nasty piece of work, but he would never leave you vulnerable.

your put on a pair of daps with it and a fur coat over the top, you knew it would please dom if you looked “classy”. a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts and dom walked in his signature suit.

“wow baby,” he looked you up and down perversely, “you look fucking hot.”

you tried not to scoff at his words, so instead just kept your face emotionless, looking down at your daps. he grabbed your hips and pulls you out the door with him, down towards the party.

the music was getting louder and louder as you walked down the corridor. the entrance to the club was taunting freedom. as dom opened the door to the club, the guests all roared with whistles and hollers at the big man himself making his big entrance.

“ladies n gents,” he puts on a triumphant smile, “welcome!”

he walked over to where he sat for every event, his guys following closey behind, and pushed you down onto his thigh, your chair for the night.

as the night dragged on, people came over to dom, giving him a firm handshake. of course, everyone knew it was better to be pals with dom, then to make him your enemy. or you we’re fucked. last time someone came to his club looking for a fight, he got one. but it didn’t look so pretty for him afterwards.

but by 11:30, a dark face came to pay dom a visit.

“dom, how’s it been?”

it was the first time you’d ever seen dom looked shocked. his lips parted slightly as his eyes stayed frozen on the figure before the two of you. his face paled in the poorly lit club.

“uh johnny, long time no see, what are you doing at my place?” dom put emphasis on my place, trying to act like he had the upper hand here. the man seemed unphased by dom’s attempt at intimidation. by this point you’d managed to figure out that this johnny guy was not a pleasant surprise for dom.

“baby, why don’t you go have a little dance or something? i’ll catch up with you in a bit, eh?” he gave your butt a quick tap and scooted you away to the dancefloor. this was the first time dom let you out by yourself, and the thought excited you. but clearly something bad was about to happen.

you moved through all the people convulsing to the heavy-bassed music, caught up in the hot, rousing atmosphere. everyone dancing seemed to look so good, so alive on the dance floor. you found yourself joining in, swinging your hips to the beat, your eyes closed and your lips parted as you let yourself go for the first time in years. the dancer’s bodies were so close to yours, this was the most human contact you’d had with anyone except dom in so long.

it was your free spirit that caught his eye tonight. from a corner booth he was sharing with a couple of buddies, his eyes clearly settled on you. he was fascinated by how your hair swung as your head swayed with your hips, how each slight jump you did made your jacket raise, along with your dress, showing your smooth thighs and your hidden weapon. he noticed how you had a small smile on your lips, like this night was the best of your life. he noticed how your soft face looked completely out of place amongst all the mobsters.

you felt the need for a drink after so much dancing, so you made your way over to the bar. he seized this opportunity to go over and talk to you.

“one cranberry juice and vodka please,” you called out to the bartender.

“make that two,” a voice called from the other side.

your turned your head to the voice, and you were dumbstruck at the view facing you.

a lean figure in a pinstripe suit and creepers looks down on you, his hair quiffed up, but his fringe flicking round on his forehead. his hands were in his pockets, and he leaned against the bar with a poised gesture. he had a modest confidence about him, like he wasn’t confident in himself, but he was confident in life in general. like nothing could stop him. his style was slick, and it was enticing.

“i saw you dancing out there,” he pointed to the dancefloor, “i don’t think i’ve ever seen someone dance like that before.”

your brow creased in confusion, you weren’t sure if you should be offended or not.

“umm thanks?”

“i mean you looked really good out there, you were quite mesmerizing”

you smiled bashfully at his words instead now, “oh, thank you.”

he flashed his teeth at you in an honest smile, eyes creasing at the sides.

“so uh.. you know dom?” he looked at you sheepishly. you gulped at his inquiry, scared at how he might act. you were so close to finally being free, but you still couldn’t escape it.

“i-uh- i work for him,” you look down at your feet.

“work? if that’s what you call it..” he trailed off.

you started getting angry now, what right does he have to judge you? did he think this was something you wanted?

“you think i like the way he touches me? you think i enjoy being treated like someone’s play thing?”

“no no wait that’s not what i meant, look i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to upset you. i just don’t think it’s right for him to get away with treating you how he does. you should never get touched so… cruelly. it makes me sick seeing the way he manhandles you.”

“you really think that? most guys just get jealous that he gets to have  such an obedient little slut.”

you choked on your own words a little, but covered it up with a swig of your drink.

“i think you’re far from a ‘little slut’. you seem so much more than that.”

you were shocked. he barely knew you, yet he was disgusted by your treatment. and he saw you as more than an object. for once, you were human in someone’s eyes. your heart warmed at the thought.

“look, let’s not talk about dom,” you avert his attention instead, “why don’t we dance uh..?”

“dean, my name’s dean. and you are?”

you smiled slightly at his fitting name, “i’m y/n.”

you slipped your fur coat off and left it on the barstool, his eyes glancing over your bare arms and shoulders, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down. you looked almost angelic in such a harsh environment, you’re subtle innocence becoming more obvious as time passed.

you grabbed onto his rough, callus hands and dragged him onto the dancefloor, and letting him guide your body instead. his hands stayed on your waist politely, but as the two of you got closer and closer to one another, they settled on your hips, one travelling up to your hair affectionately. as you danced, he stayed gentle with you, never getting grabby or inappropriate, but staying tender with his actions. it was refreshing to be treated with care for once, you craved it, you craved warmth and loving devotion.

quickly, the two of you got too caught up in each other to notice the number of dom’s men in the area.

“dean, we need to go.”

“what do you mean go?” he mumbled into your ear.

“i mean we need to leave right now,” your heart beat quickened as you worried about what could happen to dean if you got caught.

but he caught on and wasted no time leading you by your hand to the exit. as scared as you were of getting caught, your were excited at the thought of having freedom.

“y/n? we should run.”

“why?”

“because they are.”

dean pulled you through the manic crowds, down the dimly lit hallway to the exit.

“dean look out!”

in front of you were too of dom’s men, taking up the whole corridor with their large builds. you lead the way and pulled him down a nearly black hallway, with people lingering the whole way though it.

“i’ve got an idea,” dean whispers. they were getting closer.

“what is it?”

“just go along with it, okay?”

before you even had the opportunity to respond, his lips landed on yours. his arms locked on either side of the wall, blocking you in and hiding you. his lips continued kissing you as you still tried to get over the shock of somebody else being so intimate with you. it felt better than you’d imagined kissing someone else, so much more caring and light compared to dom’s painful, hard kisses that bruised your lips.

the two of dom’s men went straight past you, barely even noticing your attempt at blending in.

dean’s lips slowly detached from yours, his head resting against yours still, one arm sweeping hair off your face.

“sorry if that stepped over any lines, i thought it would help disguise us,” he whispered.

“it’s okay, it worked anyway. they’re gone now.”

“if they’re gone then why are we still whispering?”

you chuckle at his light-hearted humour, grabbing both of his hands and intertwining them with your comparably small ones.

“do you wanna come stay at my place tonight? you’ll have a bed and food and someone there to keep you safe from the baddies,” he joked.

“oh and who would that be?” you playfully replied.

“the guy who just saved your cute ass.”

“touche.”

the paced walk to his apartment was filled with trivial conversation, the two of you just enjoying the peaceful aftermath of the club.

finally you arrived outside of his flat. dean lived in a big city apartment on the top story with 5 other guys, all tall, muscly, tattooed. it was obvious that they were the gangsta sort too. they all dressed smart and in their jacket’s lining pocket you could make out the shape of pistols.

but you were used to these kinds of men, and they didn’t scare you one bit.

“fellas,” dean announces, “this is y/n, shes dom’s girl.”

they all looked at him with shock.

“what, and dom just gave her to you?” the first one spoke up, “if he find’s her here, you’re dead, we’re all dead.”

“we’ll be fine, vin, i’m gonna make sure nothing happens to her.”

you looked up at him, but he only sternly looked vin in the eye.

“if you can promise that none of us get our asses kicked, then she’s more than welcome to stay.”

dean showed you to his room, and let you in. the room was more open than you’d imagined, the whole of one wall was a window overlooking the lit up city. his bed was up against the glass, low to the ground and unmade with a laptop lying on it. but it still looked inviting. in the corner was a laundry pile, blood stained t-shirts lying on top. he had a record player in the corner and stacks of vinyl, and a wardrobe. but that was it. no more possessions and no more furniture.

“it’s very..” you tried to find the right words.

“empty? i’m aware,” he looked out the window.

“i was gonna say simple but yeah, that works too. but i like it, it feels.. right.”

“right?”

“yeah, like, i feel comfortable in here, which is surprising for me,”

you slipped his jacket he’d given you earlier off and dropped it onto the floor.

you stood there lit up by the city and moon’s lights in nothing but a small dress, and he swore to himself he had never seen anything more beautiful before in his life.

“y/n, i,” dean didn’t know how to get out the right words, “i don’t want you to think that i expect you to, ya know, do stuff.”

“i know,” you replied softly, “thank you for everything. you didn’t have to give up so much just to save someone like me.”

“someone like you? y/n, you deserve so much more than what i can give you, but for now this is all i have.”

you lean up and leave a small kiss on the tip of his nose. his eyes shut and he leans his head into the crook of your neck.

“nothing whatsoever is gonna happen to you, no one else is gonna lay a hand on you with out your consent. and i’m gonna make sure of it.”

dean may have been a face from only a few hours ago, but nothing about him was going to cause you harm. he made you feel safe for the first time in so long.

fatigue hit you as you exhaled, sinking into dean’s stature. his arms snuck around your waist and he lifted you up and carried you over to his bed, your legs wrapping around his waist.

he softly placed you down, pulling the covers over you. he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, showing you his toned, slightly scarred upper body, along with his trousers, and changed into a pair of sweatpants.

“you have tattoos?” you question, grabbing his wrist and pulling him down to you. he crouches at the side of the bed next to your head.

“i have a few,” he turns round shows the back of his neck,

r e b e l

and then along the side of his neck and down his left bicep was a plum tree with inky branches spiralling off the side, blossoms coming around the sides.

“they’re amazing.”

your hands trace along his shoulder and down the side of his bicep, moving down to grip his waist. you’re exhaustion had somewhat disappeared and was replaced with a desperate, desire to have more of dean. but this time, you didn’t want to please because you had to, but because you wanted to. you were free to make whatever decision you wanted to make, and your decision was to have dean.

much to his surprise, you pulled him onto you on the bed and covered his lips with hungry kisses, his hands gripping your hips in shock. but he reacted quickly and picked up your hands from his bare waist and pinned them above your head. if dom had done that, you would have been disgusted, but when dean held your wrists so delicately, it felt blissful.

wrapping your legs around his naked torso, you kissed down his jaw along to his neck and ear. playfully, you nipped and tugged at his earlobe, his groans filling the air and your head.

“i wanna see more of you,” he started to slide the strap to your cami down your shoulder, leaving tender kisses along your burning skin as he went.

underneath your dress was nothing except panties and your stocking-hidden pistol. he slipped it off of the top half of your body, your breasts completely on display to him. he swallowed audibly and licked his lips slightly at you. but he only saw you as beautiful. not “hot”. or “sexy”. just beautiful.

his hands softly cupped around both your breasts, kneading them slightly. you let a moan past your lips, but he shushed you and motioned to the door, meaning he didn’t want the guys to hear them.

you gulped and nodded, and he continued to rub your breasts, his lips coming down on one and grazing your nipple. you gasp at the feel of his cool breath on your hot skin. nobody had ever touched your body with so much delicacy before in your life and you were basking in it.

his hands slipped the dress the whole way down you body, all that remaining were the matching pink panties and stockings, which he took the pistol out of and placed at the side of his bed. his fingers dusted over the lace of your underwear, fingers hooking round and pulling down, and off.

he grabbed your thighs and pushed them up against your torso, giving him a clear view of your aroused, glistening heat. he exhaled loudly at the magnificent sight before him. you looked so stunning like that, completely content yet so flustered by his small movements on your thighs.

his fingers finally made there way to your damp core, and he wasted no time in giving your clit a firm press and rub from his thumb. you released a suppressed moan at his actions, your hands gripping the bed sheets with such force, your knuckle turned white. his thumb was suddenly removed and replaced with his wet tongue. he licked from the base up to the top of your clit, making you’re already damp core wetter.

“dean, more,” you whimper, “i need more.”

he instantly pushed a finger inside you at your request, slowly pumping at first. normally, you would have an felt uncomfortable stinging every time dom fingered you. but dean took care of you properly, making you feel like you were in ecstasy.

with each pump you grunted with a slight whimper, your breathes becoming shallower and unstable. dean took out his finger and left you feeling empty, as he pulled down his sweatpants and boxers together. he sat back on his heels and kneeled down on the bed, grabbing you by the hips and sitting you on his lap.

“are you ready?” he whispered, “we can wait if you want.”

“no,” you wanted this, “please go on.”

he took no time at all as he lifted your hips and settled them on top of his length, his width taking you by surprise. you arched your back against his chest, your breasts pushing against him flushed.

“dean keep going,” you breathed.

he started to push into slowly, starting a rhythm and a pace for the two of you. you rolled your hips onto him, eliciting a hiss from dean’s bitten lips.

the two of you had no struggle reaching your climaxes easily, both so desperate to make the other come undone. you were finally going to experience your first orgasm. no matter how many times dom had fucked you, you never got any enjoyment out of it. and your ex before that always came before you. so you were stuck in a cycle of almosts.

dean sucked along your neck and left dark marks all across the smooth expanse of skin and his thrusts became hard and rough, the sound of your skin hitting his.

“dean i’m gonna,” you yelped in surprise of the feeling that had exploded in your lower body. dean made one lay thrust and came with you, his breathes loud in your ear.

the two of you clutched each other as you caught your breath, all of your body touching the others. the city and star light lit up your glistening bodies, the glow off your incandescent skin.

“how was that?” dean mumbles into your neck, your hair muffling his words.

“it was..” you didn’t know how to describe how incredible that felt. you were overwhelmed with intense feelings, “amazing.”

he smiled at your eyes twinkling in the city light. dean got up to grab you a clean shirt to sleep in for the night, and some underwear for himself. you pulled the cosy shirt over your head, sighing contently as you looked over the city view.

he climbed in next to you and wrapped his sturdy arms around your waist, snuggling into your neck and back tightly. you giggled at his cuteness, surprised to see such a light hearted side to a mobster.

dean was unlike any other, he had a heart of gold that had been stolen and exploited. and your heart aches for him, and how misunderstood he must be.

“how did you get into this job then?” you were beating around the bush a little, you knew mobsters didn’t like their label. you turned around and rested your head in the crook of his shoulder.

“i was born into it, my dad used to be the head of our mob. but during a debt collection, he was surprise attacked and shot in the head. so i started working for them too, hoping to find my dad’s killer. i started off on routine deals and then started getting better with a gun and my fists. the new mob leader liked my dedication to the cause and so he started taking me out on collections like my dad did. i’ve been doing it ever since. but i’ve never killed. i mean i’ve fucked up a few faces here and there, but that’s it. i can’t put others through what i went through myself.”

you stayed silent and placed a kiss on his bare chest, showing your comfort in your actions. you wanted to show him how much you cared, so you snuggled even further into his side.

who knows what you were gonna do now. dean was a face from a few hours ago and he had already seen so much of you. he was your hero, whether or not he’d done his fair share of damage in the past. he may not see himself as a good guy, but you saw him as the best.

A Marco Moment

Set right after the Season 2 finale, Marco realizes that something is missing.


What a great season finale this was.
Let’s ruin everything with an unnecessary one-shot.

Also on FanFiction.net.


The boy in the red hoodie stared in silence at the empty room in front of him.
It was just a mundane guest room, the one his family always used for exchange students.

Marco was feeling weird, almost out of breath, the heart in his chest pumping wildly as if he’s just finished running a marathon.
There even were, strangely enough, tears in his eyes. How did those end up there? He kept staring at the simple bedroom around him, as if he was desperately looking for something.
Or someone.

He could hear the party from downstairs going on normally, people laughing and having fun.
Which made him question his presence in that meaningless room even more.
The boy closely inspected the room’s walls and furniture as if it could give him some answers. He could swear that there was reason he felt so weird.
A reason why he was there in the first place.

“Marco… there you are!”

He turned around, startled by a girl’s voice.
It was Jackie, his girlfriend, whose haunting green eyes could read through his fake smile in a moment.

“What are you doing here all alone? Something’s bothering you?” she asked.

As crazy as that sounded, Marco could only think of one answer, which was another question.

“Yes actually… what am I doing up here?” he chuckled, realizing how silly that sounded.

Jackie smiled at him and gently took his hands, stepping closer to him. “I don’t know… having a ‘Marco Moment’ maybe?”

“No, seriously.” he said, trying to sound as serious as possible. “I feel like I ran up here for a reason but… I can’t really remember now?”

That made him earn an amused look from his patient girlfriend, but he didn’t want to sound crazy.

“Maybe I *am* having one of my weird 'Marco Moments’ after all…” he admitted, smiling at her.

“Or even weirder… someone put a weird spell on all of us or something…” she joked, poking at his head. “But it’s OK: I like weird.”

The two teens smiled at each other and left the room, closing the door behind them, heading back downstairs, the music getting louder, despite being late.
Marco turned back one last time, looking at the wooden door leading to that empty bedroom.
He could swear that there was a reason he rushed there, a very important one.

But maybe he just forgot.

The End

Your Elsewhere University post reminded me of an actual incident I had at my university the other day. I had to walk halfway across campus after dinner to the fine arts building to get some assignments so I could finish them. My friend came with me and we were exploring the building, which was mostly abandoned bc it was nighttime, and looking at the art posted. Now this is a state school, but our art program is pretty large and we have a really nice gallery where professional artists exhibit (1)

As we went back down to the ground floor we heard music, which definitely wasn’t playing before. We finish looking at a group of drawings, and we went to check out the student gallery. It was closed when we got there, but as we approached the music kept getting louder. Across from the student gallery is a back door to the professional gallery, and low and behold the door was propped open. We felt a strong desire to go in, but our better judgment won out. Nothing good would have come of that (2)

There was no other art for us to look at, so we decided to leave. But for whatever reason we left by the entrance that goes by the professional gallery. That area is all windows and clean looking, and the doors to the gallery are also glass. The lights were all still on in the gallery, even though I’m sure it should have been closed, and there was a group of people spaced between the pictures on the wall dancing to the music. Sometimes they each moved freely, sometimes they were in sync. (3)

The desk attendant was still there. She was oblivious. At one point the girl dancing closest to us moved in front of the door. She had to have seen us. We stood and watched for the rest of the song, it went for a long time. I texted another friend about it afterward an they said we were lucky the dancers didn’t invite us in. (4)

[Anon]

happy birthday to the lovely, beautiful and, above all, thirsty @daddarioswife 💖  i hope you have the most wonderful day, i wish you all the best, you’re so sweet and amazing and deserve all the love in the world. love you lots and i hope you enjoy this 💕


Alec woke up and immediately felt uneasy, like something was wrong. As he blinked his eyes open, he realised where the feeling was coming from. He was alone in bed. Maybe Magnus had an unexpected client or just woke up early; in any case, Alec knew he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep without him there.

He sat up, stretching his arms above his head, and then he heard the faint sound of music coming from outside the bedroom. He got up and walked to the kitchen, the music getting louder, and he was met with a sight that tugged at the corners of his mouth and he didn’t fight the smile that spread across his face.

Magnus was dancing around the kitchen, his hips moving in time with the music, his voice soft as he sang along under his breath. His hair wasn’t styled and from what Alec could tell, his face was free of makeup and he was still only in his pajama pants. He looked so at ease, so domestic that it made something warm settle in Alec’s heart as he watched him.

After a few moments Magnus turned on his heels and jumped as he noticed Alec watching him. The surprise was momentarily replaced by a bright smile, and in the warm light of the morning, with his face relaxed and his hair falling over his forehead, Magnus looked magical. Not High Warlock of Brooklyn magical, not lethally magical, no. A softer kind of magical that had nothing to do with magic, but everything to do with Magnus being freely himself.

“Good morning, love,” Alec said as Magnus walked over to him. Magnus’ hands found their way around Alec’s waist, pulling them close together. Alec wrapped his own arms around Magnus, taking in the shiver and then the warmth that spread through him from where their skin touched.

“Morning, Alexander,” Magnus replied. “And happy birthday.”

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Pit-A-Pat (sneak peek)

Originally posted by donewithjeon

fuckboy!jungkook // high school au

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Genre: Smuttish, Romance

Description: It all started when Jeon Jungkook moved into the house next door during the first year of high school. His popularity was given as his looks are extraordinary, and not to mention his outstanding grades. Everyone thinks of Jungkook as the perfect person with his good looks, perfect grades, and rich parents. However, Y/N thinks apart from that.

MASTERLIST


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The Dancer and The Singer

Peter Parker One-Shot

Summary: AU || You got zapped by one of Tony’s inventions, teleporting you to another universe. Where Peter is a dancer and you’re a singer. You wanted to give it a chance, but as fame got to Peter’s head, things started to go bad. You got sick of the stuck up Peter, and wanted the dorky Peter Parker back.

A/N: Not my gif :) Credit goes to the owner ♥ 

Word Count: 2,247

Warning: fluff , swearing


You could feel the floor shaking from the blasting music from downstairs. You tried to ignore it and try to continue your book, but it felt like the music was getting louder and louder. You finally just gave up and threw your book down and huffed with anger. You stormed your way downstairs and bursted through the door to the kitchen.

‘’Can you turn that racket off?! I’m trying to read upstairs!’’ you shout.

You paused as you heard what song it was, you knew exactly who listened to this kind of music. The song Take On Me  was blasting through the whole entire kitchen. Peter’s favorite song.

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Self Conclusion Chapter Four

Jughead felt the cold air against his stomach as he stretched. It took him a moment to realize where he was - once he did, he looked at the empty space beside him.

He yawned, then sat up. Music was coming from downstairs. He scratched the back of his head and looked around for his beanie, swinging his legs off the bed. His beanie was nowhere to be seen. He groaned and padded out of the room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

As he padded quietly down the stairs, he could he the music getting louder and louder.

What the hell was she listening to?

Jughead ran his fingers through his hair as he yawned again, his socked feet making no noise as he spotted Betty in the kitchen.

She was facing away from him, bunny slippers on her feet, blue cotton panties clinging to her, legs bare. Her hair was damp, leaving wet impressions on her white tank top. Jughead’s beanie was  on her head.

She had a bowl under her arm and she was singing into a wooden spoon, batter dripping off the tip. There was coffee pouring slowly into the pot and bacon sizzling on the stove.

Betty swayed her hips along to the music. “-Just like animals…” She broke off to howl, tilting her head up towards the ceiling. “… baby, I’m preying on you tonight, hunt you down, eat you alive…” Betty continued, stirring the batter.

Jughead bit back a laugh, smiling to himself. He couldn’t help but notice her hair had soaked through the material of her tank top - it was obvious there wasn’t anything under her tank top, sending his mind racing.

She set the bowl on the counter and opened the cupboard above her and pulled out a bag of chocolate chips. She ripped open the bag and emptied half of it into the bowl.

The song changed to something Jughead recognized - one of his favorite songs, in fact.

“Bum-bum-bah-da-da,” Betty sang along.

“Start spreadin’ the news,” Jughead sang in a baritone voice. “I’m leavin’ today,” He continued.

Betty practically jumped out of her skin. “Jesus, shit, Jughead!”

He chuckled and waltzed into the room. “Sorry. You’re in a good mood for someone who wants to die.” He wiggled his eyebrows and walked past her, opening cupboard doors, looking for a coffee mug.

“I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” Betty murmured, a smile playing on her lips. She reached past Jughead and grabbed two coffee mugs, her chest brushing his shoulder.

Jughead’s breath hitched as Betty grazed him. “Here,” She murmured, handing him a coffee mug.

Betty poured herself a mug of coffee, pouring milk and sugar into her cup before passing Jughead the coffee pot.

“You’re up pretty early.”

“I have trouble sleeping.” Betty murmured. “I can always fall asleep just fine, but I wake up a lot. I have bad dreams.”

“I sleep too much,” Jughead yawned. “Sleeping is the best part of my day.”

Betty smiled sadly at him as she poured the pancake batter into the skillet on the stove. She plated the bacon and took a bowl of fruit salad out of the fridge, telling Jughead to have a seat in the other room.

She set a plate with four pancakes in front of him a few minutes later and set her own plate on the table. Frank Sinatra was still playing loudly in the kitchen.

Jughead spooned fruit salad onto his plate with some bacon strips and drizzled syrup onto his pancake stack.

Betty watched him with a smile on her face as he cut into his pancakes with the side of his fork and shoved them in his mouth.

“What?” He said, covering his mouth as he chewed. “It’s really good.”

Betty smiled again. “I’m glad. I love cooking.”

“No one’s ever made me breakfast before,”Jughead murmured once he swallowed.

Betty took a sip of her coffee. “What?”

Jughead shrugged. “I mean, my mom poured cereal in a bowl for me or tossed me a banana when I was a kid, and I’ve ordered pancakes at Pop’s but nobody has ever made me a hot, delicious breakfast like this.” He shoved another bite in his mouth and washed it down with a swig of coffee.

“Oh…” Betty murmured. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Do you want more coffee?”

Jughead nodded. “I can get it though, finish your pancakes.” He pushed his chair back. “You want more? Milk and sugar, right?”

Betty nodded, cutting into her pancake and shoving it into her mouth. She finished as Jughead returned with their coffees.

“I’m going to want my hat back, by the way,” Jughead smirked.

Betty’s cheeks flushed with heat. “Oh my god,” She reached up, plucking the beanie off her head and dragging it down. “I forgot I was wearing it.” She placed it on the table between them. “I’m sorry.”

Jughead shook his head slowly. “It’s okay.” He smiled. “It looked good on you.”


Jughead padded into Betty’s room dressed in his clothes from yesterday. His hair was still wet, so his beanie was tucked under his elbow.

“Do you have a computer I could use?” He mumbled quietly.

Betty looked up from her journal. “Yeah, you can use my laptop.” She jutted her chin toward her desk. “Why, what’s up?”

“I just need to check on something,” Jughead murmured. He opened the laptop on her desk and clicked on the power button. “What’s your password?”

“Caramelkitten1, capital C.”

Jughead nodded, smiling as he typed in the password, then turned back to Betty. She was reading a Jodi Picoult book.

“Is it okay if I put music on? Will that disturb you?”

Betty smiled and shook her head. “No, go ahead.”

Jughead powered up YouTube and turned on a Manchester Orchestra song before he opened his email.

“I love this song,” Betty murmured.

“You do?” Jughead asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “What about that pop crap you were listening to in the kitchen?”

Betty shrugged. “I like everything. I have more songs of theirs in my iTunes library.” She gave him a small half smile.

Jughead nodded. He clicked through his emails before opening the one he was looking for.

Jug,

What was with that voicemail you left me? I tried to call you back but I guess Dad didn’t pay the bill again.

School’s going OK. I hate my teacher this year but I’m taking the creative writing class like you suggested. I love it.

I wanted to tell you something a while ago, but I never worked up the courage to tell you on the phone. Writing it is easier, so here goes: Billy hit me. I showed Mom the bruise, and she kicked him out right away, but she didn’t want me to tell anyone. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I’m OK, but I thought you should know.

Email me soon, Jug, I love you.

JB

Jughead didn’t realize tears were rolling down his face until Betty brushed one off his cheek.

“Are you okay?” She asked sadly. Her thumb brushed his jaw until his eyes focused on her. “Jughead?”

He nodded and bit his lip. “Can I be alone, please?” He murmured.

Betty nodded and stood up, faltering towards her door. “Hey, Jughead? You can talk to me if you need to.” She said quietly.

“Thanks,” He bit out.

She left him in the room as she padded down the hallway and sat on the top step of the staircase.

For a moment, it was silent. She couldn’t hear the typing of keys or music playing or even a creak in the floorboards. Then, suddenly, she heard Jughead scream. It was muffled, like he was screaming into a pillow, but it sent shivers down her spine.

Her eyes pricked, tears pooling.

“Fuck!” She heard Jughead scream from her bedroom.

Betty stood back up and paced back to her bedroom. Jughead was sitting on her bedroom floor, his knees tucked up to his chest. Sobs were wracking his body.

“Jughead?” Betty murmured quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Please talk to me.”

Jughead didn’t say anything, but his sobs seemed to subside. She sat down next to him and rubbed his back.

He looked up at her, his big blue eyes filled with tears. “I was supposed to protect her,” He choked out.

“Who?”

“My little sister,” He murmured. “I-I’m supposed to protect her, and I wasn’t there and I’m a fucking failure just like they said.” A fresh wave of tears rolled down his cheeks.

“What happened?”

Jughead motioned toward Betty’s laptop, the page still open. She got up and quickly read through it. She turned, her face serious, and sat down next to Jughead once more.

“You didn’t know, Jughead. You can’t protect someone from something you don’t know is happening.”

Jughead shook his head. “She’s the only reason I’m still here and I let her down.”

“Shh,” Betty murmured. She placed her hand against his cheek and rubbed her thumb against his tears. “It’s not your fault.”

Jughead clutched Betty’s arm, his chin wavering. He collapsed against Betty’s body, curling himself into her tiny lap.

She could feel warm tears against her thighs, his body shaking with the immensity of his sadness. She leaned forward, wrapping her body as best she could around him, trying to hold him together.

“I’m sorry, Jughead, it’ll be okay,” She murmured. She found his hand and gathered it in her own. “It’ll be okay,” She repeated.

They stayed on the floor until Jughead’s tears subsided. Eventually, his breathing evened out and his chest started to rise and fall rhythmically.

It was his turn to fall asleep in Betty’s arms.

Bars and Stars

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, some plot??? kinda if you squint, yeah

here you guys go, I literally have about 10 Henry smut one shots just back logged, if you want more let me know! Send me an ask! Tag me, hit me up fam!

Originally posted by redundanttanks

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Personal Pianist

Hi everyone! I’m back! I bring you a short oneshot from a prompt I received a long time ago from @megaphanielthespaniel, so, I hope you like it! As always, every feedback is welcome!

prompt:

summary: Phil is bored without Dan on a summer Thursday evening and decides to start his usual liveshow earlier than expected. What he doesn’t know is that maybe he should have checked all the rooms in the house before giving away his boyfriend’s piano skills.

words: 1.6k

no trigger warnings

Phil sighed as soon as he entered the flat again. Going grocery shopping alone wasn’t fun. His boyfriend Dan was out with his friends at the cinema, so he had taken the time to make some of the chores still left in their weekly plan. Phil checked the time and saw that it was still early for Dan to be back. ‘What a boring evening it’s going to be’ Phil though, not even bothering to voice his thoughts.

He walked into the living room after leaving all the shopping bags in the kitchen hoping to find some kind of entertainment without Dan around when he suddenly saw his laptop on the sofa. 'Wait, today is Thursday, I might start a liveshow now and extend it before Dan comes back.’ the blue eyed thought cleverly. Some of his followers might be delighted to have some kind of distraction on this Summer day.

Phil decidedly picked up his laptop and positioned himself on his usual spot on the sofa, checking that the laptop had enough battery to at least last an hour. While YouNow was being loaded he picked up his phone and tweeted that he was going to be live in a few minutes, instantly recieving thousands of replies.

“Surprise!” Phil cheerfuly said once he saw that the liveshow was perfectly running. “I know you weren’t expecting the liveshow so early but, here I am! Glad to entertain you on this hot and humid Thursday.”

The chat rapidlly filled with multiple questions, which Phil tried to answer as good as he could, hoping his viewers were satisfied with the given answers.

After half an hour, he heard soft piano music coming from the bedroom upstairs? Wait. Something didn’t add up. Dan played the piano but he wasn’t home right now, right? Was a ghost playing the piano then? What in hell was happening?

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who noticed the piano music slowly filling the silence in the room, because the chat had gone crazier than ever with questions. 'Why did you put piano music on the background?’, 'Does your new neighbour play the piano?’, 'Do you happen to have a personal pianist playing for you?’

That last one made Phil laugh. “Yeah, I have a personal pianist. Dan, my long time boyfriend for those who you don’t know, plays the piano but it doesn’t explain why we have piano music in the background because Dan was out with his friends so I don’t understand.” He chuckled, but at the same time a bit scared someone had entered their flat and was luring him with soft piano notes.

The liveshow chat was filled again with many questions and requests. 'Go and check!’, 'I bet it’s Dan.’, 'I wish I had someone who played the piano for me.“ and similar sentences was all Phil could read.

’'Maybe I should go and check.” Phil decided. He needed to make sure his mind was not playing tricks on him. “I will bring my phone, ready to dial the police in case it’s a burglar trying to attract me just to finish with me.”

And with that Phil stood up from the couch, slowly making his way upstairs to their bedroom, the music getting louder with every step he took. Once he reached the door, Phil took a deep breath and rapidly opened up the door, only to spot a familiar back, claded in a black t-shirt playing the white piano that they had decided to locate in the bedroom.

Phil just smiled at his boyfriend, who hadn’t noticed that he had entered yet, and decided to enjoy the last notes of the song that was coming to an end.

“I thought you were with your friends.” Phil softly spoke from the doorway once he knew the song had finished, making Dan startle from his trance and look towards the voice that spoke to him.

“Phil! You scared me!” the brown eyed said, still surprised but smiling softly at him. “I was, but Matt didn’t check the time of the movie correctly so we missed it and there wasn’t another screening for today, so we had some drinks and came back home and watched some anime before getting bored and starting to play the piano.” Dan chuckled, but rapidly changed the subject. “Did you do the grocery shopping? I didn’t even hear the front door open.”

Phil took some steps towards the piano bench, approaching Dan and sitting down next to him, “Yeah, and I came home like 30 minutes ago. I decided to start my Thursday liveshow earlier today, so I have been chatting with my viewers for a while now.”

Dan frowned at this. He hadn’t heard Phil speaking downstairs, but he was sure that that was partly his fault. He had worn headphones while watching anime, so he kind of zoned out of other noises happening around him. Also, Phil did his liveshows downstairs, and Dan was sure that it was necessary to shout to call for each other when they were in the different floors.

That was when he realized his mistake. Dan took a sharp breath and tried to calm himself.

His piano was loud. Like, really loud. Even though his neighbours hadn’t complained, Dan was sure the music could be heard from all rooms in the house. Did that mean that Phil’s followers had heard him play? Oh no.

Dan buried his face on his hands at the embarrassment. His piano skills hadn’t improved much and he was sure his boyfriend’s followers were making fun of him right now. “They heard me play, didn’t they?” he quietly murmured, hoping Phil could understand.

Phil noticed Dan’s behaviour and rapidly brought him into a side hug, kissing the top of his head. “Yeah, they did.” he answered, rubbing his shoulder, hoping to calm his boyfriend a bit, “but don’t worry. I told them you often play the piano, but I thought a murderer was playing because you were out with your friends so it didn’t  make any sense.”

They both laughed at that. Phil and his crazy thoughts. Dan swatted Phil on the chest and lifted his head to look at Phil’s face, who was smiling at him. “You know they will love you, right? You have nothing to be afraid of.” Phil said, lifting his hand to caress Dan’s cheek.

Dan’s hesitation could be seen on his face. He wasn’t sure Phil’s followers would love him. He was afraid they would hate him and force him to leave Phil. He was scared of it even though Phil often reassured him that nothing would happen, that it would all be the same.

“Hey, Dan,” Phil softly called for him, startling him from all this thoughts, “don’t worry about it. I know you are scared, and it’s a big decision if you decide to finally appear with me on a video or a picture online; but as I always tell you, it’s your decision, and whatever you choose I’m going to stay by your side.”

Dan sighed. Phil was so sweet with this. He knew Dan wasn’t comfortable with being in the spotlight, and he really wanted to, but the hate he could receive was what scared him. Dan knew, someday, he would be ready to tell the world but, not right now. And he needed Phil to know that.

“Phil, I really want to, and you know it. I have been doing some research about how to handle hate and stuff and I’m trying but I’m still not ready…” Dan quietly said, looking down at their laps, as if he was ashamed of it.

Phil frowned a bit. Dan had been looking into how to approach and handle this kind of situations, and he had never done that before. And if he had, he hadn’t told Phil, so it was a step forward. Oh Dan.

The blue eyed moved the hand that was on Dan’s cheek and moved it to his chin, lifting his head so they could look into each others eyes. “I think it’s really nice that you have been looking into this, that means you are considering it and it makes me happy Dan. The fact that one day I could show the world who is the man I love makes me really happy.” Phil said with a smile, moving forward to press a kiss against Dan’s lips before Dan could speak again, making both of them sigh and melt against each other, enjoying the soft caressing of their lips.

Dan was the first to separate from the kiss, his cheeks blushing and lips a bit red. He put both hands on Phil’s shoulders, as he tried to speak in a serious voice, “You, Philip, need to stop kissing me and finish the liveshow, or your viewers will really think that it was a murderer upstairs.”

Phil pouted, but instantly chuckled, “Okay, what a bossy boyfriend I have…” he said before pecking Dan on the cheek again and standing up from the bench and slowly making his way out of the bedroom; but before he reached the door he turned and looked back at his boyfriend.

“Can you continue playing the piano while I finish chatting with them? It was nice background music.” Phil pulled his 'puppy-face’’, hoping that it could convince Dan. And apparently it worked, because the brown eyed just sighed while trying to look annoyed but failing, only to show a fond expression on his face before turning around and touching the piano keys, music instanly filling their flat.

Phil’s viewers were glad that it wasn’t a murderer upstairs, and it had been just his boyfriend Dan, who was a very talented piano player if you asked them.

illneverrecover  asked:

Hello! I love your writing and would love to request a little ficlet/scenario from you, if possible! I'd love to see your take on the RFA & Saeran drunk dialing MC and saying "I love you" for the first time? (or vice versa, MC calling them and saying it). <3

This one was very fun to write. Had I not gotten sick I would have been much quicker and the quality would be better, but I hope you enjoy it as it is nevertheless :3

In which drama never happened and MC had months to get to know everyone going after anyone in particular…until now…

|| REQUEST ARE (ALWAYS) OPEN!! ||


♬Zen♬

He’d been jogging around the part, enjoying the cold air of the night cooling his heating body. It was quiet, empty and peaceful, nothing but the music from his headphones to be heard. Zen had been completely engrossed in the song, quietly humming along when suddenly in broke off. For a moment he wondered whether it was his headphones, when suddenly the music was replaced by his ringtone. A call then, but not just any. You were calling. He fished out his phone from his jogging pants and instantly accepted the call. “Hey, gorgeous, what’s up”, he asked, a little out of breath as he was still running. “Zen. Zenny. ZenZen. Zennyboy. Prince Charming. The fairest of them all”, came your reply, words slurred into the phone. He couldn’t help but laugh, cheerful and breathy. “Are you drunk, by any chance”, he asked. “I don’t get drunk! I get awesome.”

Zen laughed again, utterly amused at your state. You were so obviously drunk and yet denying. It was kind of adorable and yet worrisome at the same time. Hadn’t you said that you didn’t drink, let alone get drunk like that? Was everything alright? “MC, is everything alright?” There were undefinable sounds coming from your end of the line when suddenly you spoke again: “I’m peachy!” You did sound peachy, but Zen couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something you weren’t telling him. “What are you doing right now, gorgeous? Nothing dangerous, right”, he asked, slowing down a little so he could make out exactly what was going on. You just chuckled. “Nothing dangerous, I promise. Just lying in bed, thinking about you.” The rustling of sheets…so that is what he’d heard just now. Zen smirked. “My Lady, that is quite the naughty thing to say to a man. I told you we’re all beasts and one could misunderstand your words.” 

“And what if I meant them?” Zen tripped and stumbled, barely able to keep himself on his feet. He froze for a moment, taken aback by your words. Did you mean it? No, that couldn’t be. You’d never made such advances before and he’d been mercilessly flirting with you since the day you joined RFA. Maybe it was just your drunk mind pulling a prank on the two of you. He was ripped from his thoughts by a loud sigh from you. “I knew I shouldn’t have called. Saying I love you over the phone is really not romantic, right? Silly me”, you said, chuckling sweetly like it was nothing while Zen was bordering on having a heart attack. “MC I - “, he spoke quietly, ready to return the sentiment when suddenly you cut him off. “Oh shit, bladder is acting up. I gotta take a whiz. Bye bye”, you sing-songed, blew a kiss at the phone and ended the call as abruptly as you’d started it.

Zen stood there for a good minute, fingers still pressing against the earplug like he was trying to hear you better when you’d hung up a long while ago. His heart was beating so rapidly in his chest Zen feared he might faint from it. He walked to the nearest bench, slumped down onto the cold wood and buried his heated face in his hands. You’d just told him you loved him in the most unromantic way possible. You were drunk, you did it over call and you didn’t even let him reply because you had to pee. None of it was in any way sweet or nice like he’d always imagined it so why…why on earth did he feel like the air had just been sucked out of his lungs, stomach filled with those little, fluttering butterflies he hadn’t felt in years?!

★Yoosung★

His phone went off in the middle of a round of LOLOL. At first he considered not picking up. The fight was at its peak and if he let down his guild members now they wouldn’t forgive him for ages and he might have to make it up to them by giving away some of his rare items. It’d happened before and Yoosung was still salty about it. However, as he glanced as his phone to see who was calling – to determine just how important the call was – he caught a glimpse of your name. Without a second thought he reached for his phone to pick up. In the chat you’d mentioned that you were going to a friends Bachelorette party and while Yoosung didn’t know much about what went on during those parties, he knew that alcohol was generally involved. A quick glance at the time told him it was already pretty late and Yoosung got worried that something had possible happened to you.

When he picked up he was greeted by loud music in the background, shrill laughter and you desperately trying to shush everyone while suppressing your own chuckle. “Oh shit, he picked up. Shut up everyone”, he heard you hiss, quiet as if you were covering your phone to muffle the sound. He frowned for a moment but then your voice was back and this time obviously directed at him. “H-Hi, cutey-pie”, you spoke, voice slurred and followed by laughter form not just you, but all the women with you. “How you doin'”, she asked, for some reason earning even louder laughter from her friends. “I’m fine, just playing some LOLOL, but how are you? Is everything alright?” There was some muffled talk in the background with you trying to shush your friends once more before you yet again returned to the phone to talk.

“So my friends and I were playing truth or dare, you see, and I picked dare”, you spoke, obviously drunk. So much so that sometimes you needed multiple attempts to say a word. Yoosung was having a hard time following, especially as he was trying to game at the same time. The phone was tugged between his shoulder and ear to keep his hands free. It was uncomfortable, but he couldn’t just hang up on you. “Okay, sounds like fun. As long as you’re alright, I’m glad”, he said. “No, no, no, wait”, you said quickly. “Don’t hang up yet. I still have to tell you something important.” There was loud snickering in the background and Yoosung was getting the feeling that he was being pranked. Usually Seven’s calls started much the same and it always ended poorly for him somehow. “Listen, if this is some sort of -”

“I love you, Yoosung.” You broke into a fit of chuckles while Yoosung could practically feel his brain breaking apart at the same time. “The girls had me – hey, no, give me back my phone. Don’t be like that”, he heard you say, your voice getting quieter and quieter with every word you said. Instead the music and laughing were getting louder. “Goodbye, cutey-pie”, the all screamed into the phone, laughing manically before the connection was cut and Yoosung was left completely speechless, without the chance to so much process what you’d just said, let alone reply. His eyes were trained on the screen of his computer, watching his guild being slaughtered as his character stood motionless in the middle of the battlefield. All of them were cursing Yoosung and he knew he’d have a lot of making up to do, but he just couldn’t care. Not when the one girl he’d been secretly crushing on for months had just admitted to loving him. And the idiot he was he hadn’t immediately said it back!

♨Jaehee♨

You’d been very quiet in the chat for a while and Jaehee became increasingly worried about your well-being. Whenever she asked you, you either avoided the question or gave her some half-hearted answer about some minor thing that was bugging you. She knew better though, knew that there was something much, much bigger that was making you feel so down. The worst part about it was though, that she had no idea what the possible reason might be. Everything seemed perfectly fine. Everyone in the RFA loved you, the cafe was doing great, you hadn’t fought and if anything the two of you living together made the situation much more relaxed and fun. You shared the rent and the chores, reducing the stress levels in both of your lives a lot. Jaehee didn’t know what to do anymore. Usually she was all for respecting peoples privacy, but she was legitimately worried for you.

After yet another failed attempted of asking you Jaehee turned to the RFA members. In the chat she told them about the situation and everyone agreed that you had been acting rather strange. However, when she asked for a reason no one seemed to know what was going on either and she left the chat not the smarter. That was until about two hours later she got a call from Zen. Apparently he’d been worried too but as opposite to Jaehee, you’d actually opened up to him. Apparently you’d just broken up with your boyfriend of multiple years and despite the whole thing not having been a messy break-up it still hurt to let go of something like that. Jaehee thanked Zen for sharing that with her – as she felt glad to finally know what was up – but didn’t in any way prolong the conversation, instead ending it rather soon, surprising both Zen and herself at the same time.

Jaehee didn’t fully understand her behaviour either. Usually she would have rejoiced at a call from Zen, done anything to make it last longer. This time, however, she felt somewhat bitter and disappointed instead of cheerful like the usually would. Upon thinking about it Jaehee realized it was because of you. She was hurt because you’d chosen to tell something as important and monumental to Zen instead of her. She thought she was your best friend and yet you went to Zen first. What had she done wrong? Were you mad at her? Did you possibly have feelings for Zen and wanted to let him know you were on the market?! For some reason that one hurt her the most. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but it did. That day she didn’t join any chats either.

She didn’t feel like talking to anyone until she saw your name flash on the screen of her phone and just couldn’t hold back. With a sigh she picked up, ready to hear what you had to say. “Heeeeey Jaeheeeee”, you called into the phone and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that you were intoxicated. Which in itself was quite strange, as you usually never drank, let alone to excess. “MC, Zen told me about your break-up. I am sorry you’re so hurt by it.” What followed was a bitter laugh on your part and a snort like it was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard. “I’m not hurt by it. I was the one who broke up”, you laughed. Now that part had Jaehee rather confused. “But then…why haven’t you been in the chat and why are you drunk”, she asked you. “Because I’m in love with you.” Such a simple reply and yet it shook Jaehee to the core. Especially when she realized that…she felt the same? She hadn’t been jealous of you talking to Zen, she’d been jealous of him talking to you. “Oh…I think we should talk about this when you’re sober. I would like to say it back with you remembering it.”

♛Jumin♛

Jumin had told everyone that he was on an overseas trip, so they should refrain from calling him. So when his phone went off, in the middle of a very important meeting at that, he was admittedly rather irritated. At first he didn’t even consider picking up. Jumin didn’t even look at his buzzing phone. If this deal didn’t go through he would be in big trouble with his father, as he’d been very adamant about what an important client that was. Funnily enough it was actually the client that looked at Jumin’s screen and smiled at him, telling him to pick up. He’d seen your name and figured you were Jumin’s girlfriend. While his assumption was wrong, he was right in thinking that Jumin would care for your call. Somehow, over the course of the last couple of months, Jumin had completely fallen under your spell. He’d never dared to voice as much, always remaining at a comfortable and polite distance, but whenever you reached out to him he found himself compelled to follow your call.

When he picked up the phone, a gentle smile on his face, the first thing he heard was you singing. It was loud and off key, like you weren’t really trying. Turns out that you were just really drunk. He liked the occasional glass of liquor himself, everyone knew of his love for wine, but he was also very clear on setting certain limits. You’d just overstepped one. “MC, are you alright? Is everything okay”, he asked, frowning and trying to ignore everyone at the meeting staring at him. He could hear gasps and nervous screeching from the other end of the line, quiet cursing as you apparently turned down the music a little before finally returning to the phone where Jumin had been waiting. “H-h-how much did you h-hear”, you asked between hiccups. Your voices sounded a little off as well and not just slurred. It was almost strained and Jumin deduced that you’d been crying.

“You were singing that song we danced to at the last party”, he replied, face now somewhat pained. He was just happy you couldn’t see it. The way he knew you, you would have worried. It was a little embarrassing to show this side in front of clients, but he’d been asked to pick up the phone and he could hardly hang up on you when you were in such a state. “You… you re – hic – member”, you asked. Jumin was surprised to realize that he felt physical pain upon hearing how shy and sad you seemed to sound in that moment. What was going on? “Of course I remember. It was a lovely evening, but that doesn’t matter right now. You’ve cried, haven’t you? What happened, MC. You know you can tell me.” He’d expected a lot of things. Everything from a death in the family to you having been fired or such. Never in a million years had Jumin considered that he was the reason for your painful tears, but as it turned out, that was precisely the case.

You went on explaining how the song had come on and how you’d somehow broken down crying because of it. “I’ve been in love with you for so long now and I though…I guess I hoped that-that you felt the same, but you never made any advances and I - oh God, what am I doing? I’m so sorry, Jumin. You’re on a business trip and I’m drunk dialing you. I’m so sorry. I should go. Please forget I ever called. Bye.” You hung up so fast he hadn’t even been able to beg you not to. You were in love with him. In your most vulnerable and honest state the first thing on your mind was to call him to tell him you loved him. Had he known of your feelings you wouldn’t have been crying in the first place. Well, luckily there was more than enough time to remedy that. Jumin instantly got up, frantically gathering his things. “I am so but I will have to cut this meeting short. The woman that has bewitched my body and soul just admitted to loving me and I find myself in dire need to return the sentiment.”

☼Saeyoung/Seven☼

In hindsight he should have seen it coming. You’d tried to talk to him many times over the course of the last couple of months, but while the moment had never been right time and you’d never actually uttered the words he should have been able to deduce them. What was his mastermind good for if he couldn’t even understand as much as the most basic human emotion? At first he’d been happy about it, as he still considered himself a dangerous person for anyone to be around, let alone someone as kindhearted, fragile and breakable like you. Then days of not really talking started to turn into weeks and Seven found himself rather lonely.

He tried to evaluate what had happened, why you’d suddenly stopped talking to him when you still seemed to be alright with talking to everyone else. Even more surprising, however, was the fact that he could not for the love of him understand why it hurt him so much. He’d perfected letting go of people over the years. His job demanded such petty relationships, as everything else was dangerous. However, he started to realize that despite his better judgement, he’d formed a deeper bond with you. One he could no longer ignore as it threatened to consume him. He missed your silly message sessions of just exchanging memes, missed the two of you teasing the rest of the RFA members together, missed your phone calls late and night talking about the silliest things. He missed you and there wasn’t a single robot he could build that would change that.

He attempted to reach out for you once, in a weak moment late at night after yet another exhausting and draining day at work. He’d called you multiple times, dying to just hear your voice for a minute. You didn’t pick up. Not only that, but you even pressed away his call. In that moment Seven realized just how much he’d apparently fucked up your relationship. The problem was though, that he wasn’t quite sure what he’d done. Surprisingly, however, he needed to know though, urgently, and so he went through all your texts and chats and calls to find the reason. Seventeen times. You’d asked him whether you could talk in private and in person seventeen times and every single one of them he’d been bury with something ‘more important’.

At that moment he couldn’t even feel hurt about you ignoring him. He brought it upon himself. Despite it hurting, Seven gave up on reaching you in that moment. He was about to make peace with the fact that you’d never talk to him again when his phone chimed with the ring tone he’d picked for you. When he picked up you sounded drunk…and frustrated? “Now listen here, smartass, because I have something to say and this time I won’t let you off the hook”, you started. Seven tried to stop you, begged you not to say the words he knew you wanted to say, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist and it was just too dangerous.

“Shut up! I’m so tired of your excuses so you’ll listen. I love you, Saeyoung. I love your shitty jokes, love your dumb mistakes and silly glasses. I love every last thing about you other than the fact that you’re trying to push me away all the time. What’s up with that? Anyway, I’ve had it. I know that you know where the apartment is so tomorrow at eight sharp you’ll come and pick me up with a bag of Honey Buddha chips as a gift, you’ll take me to the arcade, let me beat your ass in everything and kiss me goodbye at the door after setting a date for our second date. Understood?!” And really, who could say no?

☀Saeran☀

The thing is, most of your communication happened over the phone. It had all started out with that one fateful text that had led you straight to the RFA. After that your life had been turned upside down and so had his. In amidst all the drama – and his fable attempts to kidnap and recruit you for Magenta – you’d somehow managed to bond. Messages exchanged here and there, but a connection had gradually been build. To the point where he’d been willing to accept your help over his own brothers for the longest of time. You’d been the phone who’d gotten him into a mental institution and for the first couple of weeks texted him very single day just to check up on him. He’d never replied and yet you’d never lost your calm or kindness. If anything you’d showered him in it even more, never giving up on him like everyone else in his life had. 

Somehow he’d fallen for you over the span of a couple of months and while he didn’t allow himself to pursue you, he eagerly waited for every message of yours. Still, Saeran didn’t reach out to you for a multitude of reasons. One of the reasons being that he didn’t feel stable enough to start the relationship with you that he wanted. Then they actually took his phone away in the clinic and despite missing your messages, Saeran didn’t stop them. He had long way to go to be the man you deserved and he would have hated it had he craved and texted you back before the due time. Luckily it was no longer an issue and when he was released a couple months later and got his phone back the first thing he did was check for messages. You’d texted him every day, without fail and Saeran eagerly read through every single one of them, smiling down at his phone as he did.

Of course he would later deny ever having done so, but he knew better. However, he hadn’t quite reached his goal yet and so once more he decided not to reach out. Not when he still had a long way to go. Another couple of months passed. Saeran had joined his twin in the agency, working as both a hacker as well as a field man depending on what they needed for the case. His doctors had deemed him mentally stable, he was earning good money on a more or less proper job and he finally felt like he was in a good place in his life. Of course his first through had been to call you, as you’d made all of it possible. The thought of being with you had kept him sane over the past couple of months. There was nothing else he desired to achieve other than having you in his life.

When you called a mere hour later it was almost spooky, even to him. It felt like you had some sort of connection and the thought alone made Saeran laugh out. Still, it seemed like a sign. Him realizing that he was stable with you calling right after had to mean that it was alright to go after you and so he picked up the phone. Admittedly he hadn’t thought that you’d be drunk out of your mind, but at least the conversation was funny that way. “MC, I think you should really consider sleeping it off”, he’d suggested after you attempting to serenade him for the third time, assuring him just how much you loved him. “Who are you? My Mommy?” For someone who’d played mother hen for him and the rest of the RFA for so long you sure sounded judgemental. Saeran couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, but I’d like to be your boyfriend”, he’d replied easily, smirking as he waited for your reaction. “Wait…what?” You’d sounded so utterly confused, it had been extremely hard not to burst out laughing. In fact, Saeran had been forced to cover his mouth, take a deep breath to calm himself. It was almost as if you hadn’t even considered the possibility he might return the feelings. “Nothing, just go to sleep goddamn it ”, he’d said attempting to sound stern and failing miserably. Lucky for him you were drunk enough that you’d not notice.“Jeez, fine. Bye mom. Love you.” He’d hummed, hung up the phone and that was that. Come morning he would definitely tease you about that conversation, but he wouldn’t be any less pleased about it. After all, he’d just officially made you his.

✧ Literary Excerpts ✧

Aries ↓

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.” – Jack Kerouac, On The Road

Taurus ↓

“He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.” - Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

Gemini ↓

“The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.” – H.P. Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu

Cancer ↓

"When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calendar that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from a chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table. I spent my life learning to feel less. Every day I felt less. Is that growing old? Or is it something worse? You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.” – Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything Is Illuminated

Leo ↓

"There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable: I simply am not there.” – Bret Easton Ellis, American Psycho

Virgo ↓

"Try to imagine a life without timekeeping. You probably can’t. You know the month, the year, the day of the week. There is a clock on your wall or the dashboard of your car. You have a schedule, a calendar, a time for dinner or a movie. Yet all around you, timekeeping is ignored. Birds are not late. A dog does not check its watch. Deer do not fret over passing birthdays. Man alone measures time. Man alone chimes the hour. And, because of this, man alone suffers a paralyzing fear that no other creature endures. A fear of time running out.” – Mitch Albom, The Time Keeper

Libra ↓

"I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do. Mrs Dubose won, all ninety-eight pounds of her. According to her views, she died beholden to nothing and nobody. She was the bravest person I ever knew.” - Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

Scorpio ↓

“Usually we walk around constantly believing ourselves. “I’m okay” we say. “I’m alright”. But sometimes the truth arrives on you and you can’t get it off. That’s when you realize that sometimes it isn’t even an answer–it’s a question. Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.” - Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Sagittarius ↓

"It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.” - Oriah Mountain Dreamer, The Invitation

Capricorn ↓

“I don’t have any problem understanding why people flunk out of college or quit their jobs or cheat on each other or break the law or spray-paint walls. A little bit outside of things is where some people feel each other. We do it to replace the frame of family. We do it to erase and remake our origins in their own images. To say, I too was here.” – Lidia Yuknavitch, The Chronology of Water

Aquarius ↓

"If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.” - Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

Pisces ↓

"Just remember that the things you put into your head are there forever, he said. You might want to think about that. You forget some things, dont you? Yes. You forget what you want to remember and you remember what you want to forget.” – Cormac McCarthy, The Road