#They so sang this drunk at the top of their lungs

[theliliesofwatersedge]

Songs for the Slytherin Skittles

1. Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked - Cage the Elephant

2. Sex, drugs, etc - Beach Weather

3. The Cult of Dionysus - The Orion Experience

4. Loser - Beck

5. You Know You’re Right - Nirvana

6. Boys don’t cry - The cure

7. Your going to hate this - the frights

8. o Children - Nick Cave

[shivunin]

Through the Window

CW: Near death experience

(Here is the song Hawke is singing in the second scene c:)

Healing Hawke had taken several hours and what seemed like years off of Anders’ life. 

As far as Fenris was concerned, they were years better spent, but he wisely kept that opinion to himself. The mage had staggered off to sleep in a spare bedroom perhaps an hour ago, and the others, for various reasons, had also gone away one by one. Varric had left to ensure the nobility wouldn’t be a problem for Hawke until she was ready to face them; Merrill had said something vague about herbs and gone away soon after. Aveline had never shown up, not that anyone was surprised given the state of Kirkwall, and Sebastian had gone to the Chantry for a change of clothing—as his things were still covered in Hawke’s blood. 

And Isabela—Isabela had managed perhaps an hour in this room, the shortest of all of them. Fenris could not blame her for leaving. Every single time Hawke had woken, her first words had been “Bela? Did they take her?” as if she remained stuck in the moment of the Arishok’s death, certain the other Qunari would take her friend regardless of what Hawke did. 

Isabela had managed a joke each time, but the jokes had become more wooden, then more quiet, and at last she’d retreated to the sitting room below with a bottle of strong rum. 

Fenris had told the rest that he would watch over her; that he could manage well enough by himself. This was true, but he was not watching her at the moment. Instead, he sat before the window, looking out at the destruction in the city. Dawn was rising now, lighting the clouds of smoke in bands of pink and lilac. How strange, that something so horrible should be remade into something beautiful. 

How strange that the morning should dawn as it always had after such pain and death.

“Fen…ris?” Hawke said from the bed behind him. 

Fenris did not turn at once. He stayed slumped in the chair, looking down at the city. If he was going to speak to her, he would need to school his expression first—and he knew he could not yet manage to do that. 

“Ah,” she said, very quietly, “As…leep.”

Her breath sounded like it hurt; there was a faint whistle to it, high-pitched and strained. Fenris closed his eyes and clamped his lips together. He would need to stand in just a moment; stand and tend to her. As soon as he could keep himself in check. As soon as he could—

“I’m…glad…it was…you,” she said, and her sigh crackled through the air, “I…loved you…you know.”

Fenris’s hands curled hard around the arms of the chair, knuckles standing out paler than his tattoos. She thought him asleep; she would not say such a thing to him waking. He could not stand now; could not show her he’d heard. It would be…would be…

“I’m…glad…you stayed…” this time, her breath dragged in her throat, as if she couldn’t quite manage it, and Fenris sat up in alarm. 

“...can...be…happy…someday…” she said, and didn’t seem to notice that he’d scraped the chair back from the window, nor that he was gripping her hand and bending over the bed. 

“Hawke,” he said urgently, “Hawke. Look at me.” 

The corner of her mouth curled faintly, but she was looking past him at the corner of the room. When she took a breath, her chest hardly moved. 

“Maria,” Fenris said, squeezing her hand, “Hawke!” 

It was no use; he knew that already, and turned for the door. 

“Anders!” he bellowed, “ANDERS!”

Thundering footsteps on the stairs; Fenris bent lower over her, cupping her cheek in his hand. She was so cold—yet her pulse still beat in her neck, however thready and weak. 

“You stay here,” he ordered her, bending low over her body, “Stay here, do you hear me? Hawke!” 

“Move, move,” Anders said, jostling him out of the way. Fenris moved as quickly as he could manage, feeling the tingling of magic already unfurling from the mage’s body. 

He could do nothing; only stand here and—

Fenris’s hand, the one he’d used to touch her cheek, curled into a fist at his side. The other reached for the neat bottles of lyrium on the bedside table, shoved one toward the mage. 

“Drink,” he said, but he didn’t need to; as soon as he held it out, Anders was taking it, popping out the cork and downing it in one swallow. 

Fenris focused past him, where Hawke still lay. Her eyes were open, her mouth still fixed in that horrible half-smile. Breathe, he willed her, moving to the footboard and curling one hand around the post there, Breathe. 

Hawke closed her eyes—and gasped. 

|

Six Years Later

Hawke has gone to Weisshaupt now, Varric’s letter had said, and she’s still in one piece. Maybe you’ll catch her on the road. Won’t be too far from Tevinter, right? 

Perhaps the dwarf had even believed it—but Fenris had known better. 

He stood on the path now, peering past hedges and trees to the cottage tucked inside. When they’d chosen this place, he hadn’t understood why. If she wanted to be in Ferelden, why not closer to Lothering or one of the cities? Why here, of all places? Hawke had just shrugged and gone on nailing a board back in place on the wall.

Because it looks like home, she’d said after a moment. That had been the last time she’d spoken of it. 

Fenris took a breath, his hand on the cold iron of the gate, and swung it open.

Hawke—or someone—had kept up with the garden. He’d expected it to be overgrown, as it had been the last time he’d been here. Instead, the flowerbeds had been weeded and the bushes beside the path were neatly trimmed back. He ran a hand along one as he walked and then, by force of habit, turned to the right and walked around the house instead of using the front door. 

If there had been any doubt in Fenris’s mind that Hawke was here and not somewhere in the mountains, it would have been dispelled as soon as he rounded the corner and heard her voice.

“Ay, quién pudiera/Besarlos más,” her voice sang, trailing from the open kitchen window. Fenris braced a hand on the side of the house beneath and just—listened, for a moment. Her voice was sweet—he’d heard it before, more here than he’d ever heard it in Kirkwall—but she’d never sung this song for him. 

And—how long had it been since he’d heard her voice? Six months, a year? How long since he’d seen her face? 

It was too much all of a sudden; the sunlight, the birdsong, the buzz of insects in the garden. Her voice, so near and yet still distant. Fenris discarded his pack right there and headed for the back door, his feet speeding up as he went. He moved silently, now, used to staying quiet until he wanted to be heard, but her song cut off when the back door slammed shut behind him. 

“Hello?” Hawke called warily, and Fenris stepped into the kitchen. 

They stared at each other for a moment, Fenris breathing hard, Hawke holding a spoon with some sort of batter slowly falling into the bowl below. 

“Fenris,” she said, his name all but a gasp, and dropped the spoon. It splattered something onto her dress—white, embroidered around the neckline—though she did not seem to notice it. She took one step out from behind the counter, then another, and one hand moved to her chest. 

“Are you really here?” she said. Fenris could see her pulse racing at the base of her neck, the way she braced herself on the counter as if she didn’t trust her own legs. 

He nodded once, words momentarily beyond him. She took another step, then another, her eyes wide and wondering. 

He’d thought—the note she left had been terse. He’d thought she had wanted to leave him behind. But the way she was looking at him now—

All at once, Hawke flung herself at him, her arms wrapping tight around his waist. 

“You’re here,” she said, over and over again, “You’re here. You came back; you’re here.”

“I—yes,” Fenris said. He’d lifted his hands when she came close, but he set them on her shoulders now, carefully and slowly. Her curls tickled his neck, loose as they were, and she smelled like bread and herself—anise and sweetness and smoke and how had he forgotten—

“I’m so glad,” she said, pulling away enough to look at him without letting go of his waist, “I’ve missed you. So much, Fenris.”

“But you left,” he said, and his hand rose without his permission, knuckles brushing over the curve of her cheek, “You didn’t tell me where you were going. You left.”

“I didn’t want to…” she sighed, her eyes tracing his face over and over again, lingering on new scars, “Your hair is…different.” 

“Yes,” he said, lifting a hand to touch the shaven side of his head, “and you—it was a bad fight, then?” 

He nodded to her neck, scarred in a strange pattern of whorls and lines. Hawke let go of him to touch the ridged skin, then turned away, back to the table and bowl. 

“Yes,” she said, “It was. Do you…I was just about to bake a cake. Do you…want tea?” 

This was not going as he’d expected. Fenris moved to brush off his armor by force of habit and touched the sticky dough she’d left behind, the smears of flour. 

“...yes,” he said after a moment, “Do—”

He caught the cloth she tossed him, wiped himself clean, and braced his hands against the counter opposite her. Maria avoided his eyes, and she’d moved her hair to cover her neck. A bad wound, then; in that part of the neck, it would have been. 

And she’d left him behind to receive it alone. 

“Where did you go?” he asked. 

Hawke bit her lip and poured the batter into a pan, then tapped it against the counter twice. 

“Lots of places,” she told him, “Everywhere, really. Orlais, Ferelden, the Frostbacks.”

When she walked away to slide the pan into the oven, he saw that she was barefoot. What was it she’d told him back in Kirkwall all those years ago, drifting off to sleep together in her bed? Ah, yes.

I want a home where I can wander around barefoot, she’d said. I want to pick berries right off the bush and eat them till my stomach aches. I want to fill the house with laughter and music and sweetness, and I don’t want to think about death or duty ever again. 

Fenris ignored the clutching feeling at his chest and curled his fingers around the wood of the counter. 

“Hawke,” he said, chiding, as he had a hundred, a hundred hundred times before. 

The scars along her neck were not the only ones; there were more along the side of her calf and around one wrist. There were burns, too, over her back; he could see the shiny edges of them in the sunlight pouring through the open window. 

It wasn’t that Fenris had really wanted to know where she’d gone. All those nights since he’d come back here and found her note, he’d really wondered—

“Why? Why not wait for me?”

“It was urgent,” she said, her back still to him, “Stroud…said it couldn’t wait.”

“Then why not tell me where you’d gone?”

He’d had enough of distance; Fenris strode into the kitchen and stopped before her, standing where she could not help but see him. Maria pursed her lips. 

“Why?” he said again, standing close enough to touch but leaving both hands to hang at his sides. 

“I didn’t want…” she sighed, twining her fingers through the kitchen cloth she held, “It was my problem. I didn’t want you to be forced to follow me into another one of my—”

“Forced?” Fenris interrupted, scowling, “What do you mean?”

She would have looked away from him again, but he set his hand along her cheek and held her gaze. 

“Hawke,” he said, “Tell me.”

Her breath shook when she drew it in, but her fingertips brushed over his. 

“We both made promises,” she said quietly, “I…didn’t want you to think you were bound by them when you had other things, more important things—”

“Bound—Hawke, what are you—” 

Ah. 

Yes. He knew the answer even before he finished asking the question; it was in the angle of her eyes, the tightness at the corners of her mouth. More than that, the answer was in her fingertips and the magic that hummed there sometimes, though it was quiescent now. 

What has magic touched that it does not spoil, he’d said to her once in a moment of pique. She’d always been so careful; never ordered him to do things, always asked, forever cautious not to remind him of the days before they’d known each other. 

Fenris might have told her long ago that Hawke might be a mage, but she was nothing like the magisters he’d known. If he doubted her in the slightest, he would have walked away long ago. Did she think he didn’t know exactly who she was, down to her very bones?

“I didn’t want you to be trapped,” she said, and took another breath, “I…love you, Fenris. I always have. But I won’t hold you here when you don’t want to be held. Explaining what I was doing would have forced you to help; I know you too well to think otherwise. If you thought I was in danger—you would have left what you wanted to do behind. That wasn’t fair. You left because you had to and—I couldn’t make that choice for you. I wouldn’t.” 

The words came too quickly; they collided with each other, trapped in his throat, and trying to clear it had no effect. Fenris held her instead, wrapping one arm around her waist and backing her toward the counter. Hawke moved with him readily, her face tilted up and watching. 

She’d never told him she loved him before; not waking, not in so many words.

Fenris didn’t kiss her—not yet—but his mouth skimmed her cheek, the edge of her ear. He spoke there, where she could not help but hear him, where she could not be distracted by looking for answers in his face. 

“Listen to me,” he told her, “You did make the choice for me—by not allowing me the information to follow you. I do not choose you because I must or because you have forced me to, Hawke. I stay because I cannot imagine wanting to be anywhere else; needing to leave for a time does not change that. Not for a moment.”

Fenris could feel her breath against his ear, uneven and labored. He did kiss her now, on her jaw, her cheekbone, the soft skin over her temple. 

“You,” he said, cradling her face and pulling back to look at her, “I told you I would follow where you lead. I meant it then and I mean it now. Let me choose that for myself.”

Hawke closed her eyes. Fenris kissed the delicate skin of her eyelids and tasted salt. 

“Do you believe me?” he said. 

“You aren’t mad?” she asked, “I thought you would be…If you came back, I thought you would be angry with me.”

“I am,” he said, “There is plenty to say about that later. I never want you to do that again. But now…I find I am grateful just to have you here. I am certain I will find time for anger later.”

Maria laughed, as he’d meant her to, and at least lifted her face to be kissed. 

They stood there in the sunlight for a long, long time, touching and being touched, holding and being held. After a year or more, Fenris was, at last, precisely where he wanted to be.

The badly burned cake, when they finally ate it much later, was covered in fresh berries and honey, and it was very nearly perfect.

(Day Fourteen of @14daysdalovers, which was a free choice. I, of course, chose a little pain and a little sweetness. Thanks to the organizers of the event! I've had a blast and it was really cool to see all the neat stuff others have made. Happy Valentine's Day, y'all!)

[cal-flakes]

╰┈➤ rafe picking up his drunk girlfriend

warnings: swearing. alcohol, underage drinking.

summary: much to rafe’s dismay, his girlfriend had always been close with the pogues, drinking with them, fishing with them and so on. one particular night, y/n gets a bit too drunk and rafe has to pick her up.

the fire crackled away infront of them as the group chattered amongst themselves, empty beer bottles scattered around behind them. jj and y/n drowned out the others in a drunken attempt to sing some sort of old song, neither knowing the correct words. taking notice of this, the others broke out in hysterics, however this only further egged them on.

y/n sang, or slurred as her friends might say, at the top of her lungs, beginning to twirl around the fire they had made out of rotten wood and pizza boxes. making her way around her friends, she reached out to pope, determined to make him get up and dance.

“you’re wasted y/n, you should sit down” kie called from her place on a tree stump. turning her head, y/n’s face contorted. “you’re wasted y/n, sit down” she mimicked her friend. nevertheless, it was a fact. the pogues knew y/n couldn’t really handle alcohol, it was only in the last few months that she had decided to come out of her shell a bit more. she’d spent the majority of her life sticking to rules, doing as she was told. that was until her close friends from school had convinced her to live out her teenage years in style.

“i-i am not drubk, ‘m having f-fun kie” y/n mumbled, yet the hiccups interrupting her words said otherwise. her friends chuckled at this, allowing her to go on for a little longer. that is until she let out a small scream.

their heads snapped quickly to where y/n was, they would’ve thought she’d disappeared into thin air if it wasn’t for her drunken cries coming from the other side of a large fallen tree. john b, pope and kie jumped out of their places around the fire, attending to their lightweight friend as quickly as possible. jj on the other hand, was also too shitfaced to even realise she’d taken a tumble.

“y/n are you okay?” pope asked, poking his head over the tree to take in the sight of his friend flat on her back, sprawled out on the floor. despite the flowing tears, she managed a thumbs up. “c’mon y/n, that’s two fights you’ve lost with a tree now, when are you gonna learn?” john b mocked while reaching down to help her up.

kie stepped over the tree, also helping y/n up off the floor as she lolled about like deadweight. pope and john b shared a knowing glance as they all pulled y/n back up. once she was up, kiara helped feed her some water, hopefully sobering her up a bit before she went home.

“you know what we’re gonna have to do right? john b?” pope whispered as they stepped away from the girls. to this, john b let out a deep sigh, knowing exactly what they were gonna have to do. “yeah i know” john b grumbled. “who’s gonna do it though? im not, i did it last time.” pope protested quickly.

both boys glanced over to kie, she quickly shook her head however, already knowing what they were going to ask. “no, no way. you can do it this time john b, he almost bit my head off last time i spoke to him.” before john b had anytime to argue, kiara had tossed y/n’s unlocked phone into his hands, looking at him expectantly.

pacing around the fire, john b reluctantly tapped the screen a few times before holding the phone up to his ear and letting it ring. after a few tries, the recipient finally answered the call. “hey baby, you okay?” a raspy voice called out through the phone, earning a small chuckle from pope as he overheard.

“hey rafe..um, it’s john b” he mumbled, knowing how this was going to go. “why the fuck do you have y/n’s phone?” rafe sneered, blood boiling at all the possible situations running through his head. “yeah, i- um, i think you need to come pick her up, she’s a bit wasted and she’s hurt herself.”

overhearing this, y/n’s face contorted, her mind clearing for a second as she realised what was going on. “are you telling my fucking boyfriend on me john b?” she slurred, her voice loud enough for rafe to hear. before john b could get another word in, rafe put the phone down on him. “asshole” he muttered, already dreading rafe’s arrival.

fifteen minutes go by and y/n had been in a huff every single second, she knew rafe would jump at the chance to argue with her friends, so john b calling him to come get her was not the most intelligent idea.

the pogue’s heads turn at the sound of a car engine pulling up not to far from them. sharing looks as they heard a car door slam. y/n jumped at the sound, the dreading feeling gone as excitement to see her baby took over. the leaves behind her rustled and she leaped from the camping chair, just about falling into rafe’s arms. “hiiii babyyy” y/n sang as he helped her back up, stabling her. sparing his angel a quick smile, he turned to narrow his eyes at her friends.

“what the fuck did you give her!” rafe bellowed, waking jj from his wasted slumber. the blonde boy stood up, stalking over to rafe, well..trying to atleast. “who the fuck do you think you are cameron? talking to us like that?” jj growled through gritted teeth, chest heaving. rafe chuckled to himself lowly, squaring up as he did. “you’re fucking lucky she’s here maybank, or i’d have already punched your face into the ground” he retorted.

pope and john b had situated themselves in the middle before jj could lunge at him. “heyyy! h-hey! stop it! you guys gotta accept that i love you bothhhh! your my b-boyfriend and these g-guys are my besties!” y/n sang from besides rafe, throwing an arm around both rafe and jj. attempting to de-escalate the situation.

rafe’s nostrils flared as he took a step back, throwing a glare in the pogue’s direction before leading his girlfriend away. “bye guys! see you so-ooon!” she yelled while following rafe to the car.

stepping into the drivers side, rafe gathered himself for a second, not wanting to lash out at her for something so small. releasing a harsh breath, he turned to her, intent on lecturing her about drinking so much when his eyes met her puppy dog gaze. his thought out words suddenly crumbled away. sighing, he intertwined his free hand with hers and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “seatbelt” rafe ordered, his tone teetering on harsh. “yes sir!” she giggled before doing what he asked.

as they drove, rafe felt the anger in his veins dissipating as she leaned her head on his shoulder. “rafe?” she mumbled. humming in response, he glanced at her before turning back to the road. “do you think you could make me a sandwich when we get back? pretty pleaseeee” y/n pleaded, half expecting him to say no.

“of course baby, anything for you”

[lexabitxh]

S.W | Drunk Confession

summary: y/n gets a bit too drunk, and confesses her feelings unknowingly to sam winchester.

perspective: third person.

word count: 1837

The night was young and the Winchesters & l/n had finished up a case that took several days. It felt good to win. It was a pride and joy feeling they got to feel other than guilt and disappointment from other unsuccessful cases.

"Another round, on me."

Y/n said as she signaled the bartender and pointed at their empty shot glasses. It's been a long day and genuinely, they all needed this. A moment to unwind after a long week of hunting.

"You sure you haven't had enough?"

Sam said as he looked a little concerned. Y/n scoffed, "Now I understand why your brother calls you so uptight. Stop being such a chick, Sam" she said, while taking down another shot of rum.

Sam felt the need to be the one sober for the night. Usually he'd drink a few shared beers with Dean, but being that Y/n was tagging along, it required someone responsible to take care of the two. Dean let out a chuckled, "I'm starting to like her" he said, pointing at her while popping a fry into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance at the two's behavior, they always acted so childish.

•

"Dean, you're drunk-"

"I'm not drunk, I'm awesome" Dean slurred his words, laughing as he clinked his glass of beer with Y/n. They've been drinking for hours and slowly but surely they were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. Sam shook his head in disappointment, not sure what to do anymore.

"Stop being such a party pooper, Sam and loosen up a little. Just have one drink with us." she insisted while playfully nudging his shoulder with hers.

You'd think since you can't beat them, you might as well join them... but being that Sam was... well Sam, he'd spend the rest of his night looking after the two, hoping they wouldn't get themselves into any trouble.

•

'Na-na-na, come on

Na-na-na, come on'

S&M was blasting through the speakers, while Sam drove the car back to their motel. Dean sat in the passenger seat, his window rolled down as he was swaying his upper body to the beat, bopping his head to the rhythm. Y/n sat in the back, her hands in the air while singing to the top of her lungs.

She could feel the liquor coming up to surface, but managed to contain herself together. She knew if she were to throw up inside the impala, Dean would kill her himself and dispose of the body without a sweat.

'Love is great, love is fine (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)

Out the box, outta line (oh, oh, oh, oh, oh)'

Sam kept glancing from Dean to Y/n, laughing just a little. He's never seen this side of Dean before. It was nice seeing him all loose and happy, it's as if everything they've done in life so far, all the good and bad things had disappeared for the time being.

"'Cause I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it!!" Y/n sang while Dean tried his very best, but fail miserably as most of his words came out sounding gibberish.

Sam contained his laughter as he kept glancing through the review mirror, watching Y/n dance with a drink in her hand, her eyes closed for the most part, but even so, she looked enticing. The way she was feeling herself. Her lips, her eyes, the was she felt the music through her body.

At one point he lost control of the wheel, causing every one of them to jerk just a little. "Eyes in the road, buddy" Dean said as he took another swig from his beer. Sam looked back only to find that Y/n was no longer in his eyes-of-sight.

"Y/n?" He did a quick look-over only to find her slumped in the backseat, passed out. "Great."

•

Sam pulled into the motels parking lot, putting the car in park before turning off the engine. He sat there for a moment, watching Dean struggle to get out before in doing so. To his surprise, Dean had somehow managed to get inside their motel room without a problem. Sam shook his head and he got out to check on Y/n.

"Y/n?"

He had opened her side door and peeped inside, lightly shaking her awake, but she barely moved except making a few grunting noises.

"Mmh??"

"We're back at the motel... c'mon, let's go" he said softly. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere anytime soon with her current state, so with that being he helped her out. "Careful" he said as he grabbed her by her waist and wrapped one arm around his neck.

"Ok, ok, let's make this easier for you" he said as he scooped her up bridal style and carried her back inside. He used his foot to close the door on the way in, looking around for Dean before noticing him dead asleep on the floor.

"Alright... here we go..."

Said Sam as he gently placed her on her bed. He grabbed a blanket and placed it on her as he then removing her boots. Before he could walk away, Y/n grabbed him by his arm.

"Sam..."

Sam stood there awkwardly, looking down at her as the touch of her hand made him feel all sorts of feelings.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you..." she mumbled as she was trying so hard to open her eyes. "You're a good friend" she slurred, causing Sam to chuckle lightly. "Of course" he replied, "Get some rest."

"Also, you're a cute, Sam." she said, which caught him by surprise. "W-what?"

"You. Are. Cute..." she whispered, "and stupid." Sam was taken aback from her last comment, narrowing his brows together as he tried so hard not to smile. "But I like your stupid face. It's so stupid. It's so... I like it. Can I touch it?" she said while attempting to reach for his face, but was far from her touch.

He laughed a little. "You're drunk, Y/n" he said as he brushing her hair to the side.

"Yes I am. And I'm hopelessly in love with Sam Winchester... but it's a secret. Sam can't find out about this" She mumbled.

Sam could feel his cheek burning up about the confession. A smile so wide he could hardly contain his excitement. "Alright, it's our little secrete then" he reassured her.

"Pshhh"

"Shhhh"

He gestured as he smiled down at her.

"Goodnight, y/n" he said, hoping to get one in return, but she had quickly fallen asleep. He stood there for a little longer, watching her sleep peacefully. He shook his head, smiling like an idiot before going to bed. He figured he'd take the opportunity to enjoy the entire bed to himself, considering that Dean had taken the floor.

•

Y/n had woken up to the room spinning, her eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sunlight that shun in her face. She looked around the room. Dean no where to be seen and Sam sitting by the small table, who seems to be reading something off his laptop.

"What time is it?"

She said as she didn't remember how she gotten to bed last night. Sam looked up and smiled, "It's one in the afternoon. Don't worry, there's no case for the day" he assured her. "There's some ibuprofen and a glass of water right next to you" he pointed.

"You're a life saver"

She said, reaching for it as she popped the pills and swallowed it down with the glass of water. The water had quench her thirst, but she still felt hungover. "What happened last night?" She'd asked.

"You mean you don't remember?"

Y/n shook her head, "the last thing I remember was singing in the car to Rihanna. Which now thinking  back to it, that was pretty embarrassing" she laughed a little. "you have no idea what you did last night" Sam chuckled mischievously, causing Y/n to worry.

"Samuel. What did I do?"

She asked, unsure of what she might've done that could be so bad other than having a karaoke with Dean Winchester. "I was promised not to tell" he said while gesturing his lips sealed.

"Sammy!" She yelled in annoyance, kneeling on her bed as she was intrigued of what she had done last night. Endless of possibilities had ran through her mind, but none that she could remember of. Sam shook his head, a cheeky smile on his lips as he didn't say a word. "C'mon, Sam! Just tell me!" She pleaded.

Sam knew how'd she react if she knew what she'd done last night, and he didn't wanted to put her through that embarrassment. Though there was nothing to be embarrassed about because if he was too being honest, he felt the same way about her.

"Well, if you really wanna know..." he said as he closed his laptop, "you said my face looks stupid" he said pausing before going on. "And that you liked my stupid face."

It all came back to her. She felt her body go numbed and her cheek flush with a bright burning sensation of red. "You remembered now" Sam teased, causing her to grab ahold of a pillow and shoving her face into it. In that moment, she wanted to die.

"Oh. My. God!"

She cried as she got up from her bed. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I-I was drunk, and it felt easier for me to confess... I didn't want you to find out this way. How embarrassing!" She cried as she buried her face into the palm her hands.

Sam quickly got up. "Hey, it's alright" he reassured her, gently removing her hands from her face and holding them in his.

"I'm glad you told me. Cause I don't think I'd ever have the courage to tell you how I felt" he said. "You, too, have a stupid, cute face" he quoted her, laughing just a little. "And I like that" he added.

"You do?"

Sam nodded as he gotten closer to her, closing the gap between them. "I like you, Y/n." He said as he leaned down to place a soft kiss against her lips. All her worries had melted away in that moment of bliss. She'd dream of this very exact moment, but she'd never imagined this is how it'd happen. Over a drunk confession.

They were soon utterly interrupted by Dean, who had bursted into the room with bags of food. "Woah, what I miss?" He said as he had caught them by surprise.

Y/n and Sam looked at each other, a shade of pink on their cheeks as they held hands like kids in love.

[jaegerisms]

geto who stays at jujustu tech after hidden inventory, and sometime in the future ponders the subsequent developing of your relationship~

It would definitely take Geto a few years to even allow himself to consider if he wanted to marry you. Once he did, it would take him a few more years to actually pull the trigger. So much time in fact, that Satoru of all people gets on his case about it, “Dude, if you don’t fucking marry her already-“

“Satoru please don’t start this right now.” Their daily smoke sessions turning into a weekly occurrence after that. Almost monthly until Satoru gets tired of being avoided and demands his friend tell him why he dreads the topic of marriage so. How could he explain that even though you were the only person he could see himself with, the thought of getting down on one knee made his hands clammy, his heart race, his breath all but stop?

He wasn’t Satoru. He couldn’t brush off his worries so easily. Maybe there had been a point in time when he possessed the confidence to do so. Believing himself to be strong enough to handle anything and come out on top. But that had been before he saw the world crumple around him. Before he realized that he was just man, and there were risks he didn’t have the capacity to handle. Things he couldn’t control.

Eventually, Satoru’s insistent nagging would force Geto to divulge his worries to his friend. And upon hearing them, Satoru bursts into a fit of booming laughter. It pissed Suguru off.

“Bro, you’re nervous? Seriously? It’s been 6 years, if she was gonna leave you it would’ve already happened. Trust me, your emo ass has nothing to worry about.”

For a few weeks afterward, Geto would catch himself studying every interaction between the two of you. The soft voice with which you consoled him, the way you always asked if he was alright after too long of a silence. The way your hand always seemed to drift to him. As if you needed to feel his skin on yours as undoubtedly as your lungs needed air.

The way you brushed his hair, humming whatever tune your mind had decidedly fixated on. The tenderness with which you held his face, tucking his hair behind his ears and staring at his lips as if it pained you not to be latched onto them for even a moment.

Even if he was no longer the careless over confident sorcerer you had fallen in love with all those years ago, he was still your Suguru, no matter what shape he had grown to take. And upon the realization that he could be anything and you would still be there, he went for it.

On a Sunday morning, over coffee, as you sang along to the theme song of whatever show you had playing on tv. Taking sips of your mug between each nail you painted. Bare feet splayed on the edge of the coffee table, chewing on your lower lip in concentration as you tried your best not to make a mess of your attempted pedicure.

Drunk on the casual intimacy, in awe of the effortless beauty that had him in a chokehold, the words fell from his tongue before he had the chance to actually understand what he was doing, “Marry me.”

You nearly choked on your drink. The brush in your hands just moments before clattering to the ground, leaving a stain on the floorboards he would undoubtedly chastise you for later.

“Y-you mean that?”

“Yeah.” He choked out, holding his breath so fiercely he thought he might turn purple. Hands gripping the kitchen counter so hard his knuckles became white.

The shriek that erupted from you nearly scared him half to death. Wet nails be damned, you jump up from your spot on the floor and run to him. Throwing your arms around his neck and jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. He couldn’t help the breathless laugh that escaped him at your unabashed animation.

Now that wasn’t so hard was it?

[pink-sparkly-witch]

Girls Night

Summary: Jensen’s girlfriend comes home a bit drunk after a girls night and tries to seduce him.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, implied sexy times to come.

Words: 0.7k

A/N: I’m so proud that I set out to drabble and succeeded! 🥳 I’m a wordy bitch, so usually, when I set out to drabble, I fail epically 😅 All mistakes are my own.

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM. 💖

My Masterlist     AO3    Ko-Fi

“It’s been far too long since we last did this!” you declare, slamming another empty shot glass onto the wooden table.

“I know! And we say this every time, but we shouldn’t leave it so long next time,” Fiona shivers violently at the aftertaste of the tequila.

“Well,” Robin smirks, “if y’all put hoes before bros every now and then, we’d see each other a lot more often!”

“Excuse you,” you feign outrage. “If I remember right, you,” you point your finger for good measure, “are the one who didn’t come last time so you could ‘Netflix and Chill’ with Scott. I hadn’t seen Jensen in six weeks, and I came!”

“Oh, I came, alright!” Robin grins when you and your closest friends descend into laughter.

The familiar intro of Lionel Richie’s “Dancing on the Ceiling” begins, and you and the girls quickly make your way onto the dance floor. 

You spend the rest of the night cutting your best moves, singing at the top of your lungs and drinking tequila.

Walking into the hallway with your heels in your hand, you try to be as quiet as possible. Jensen has been working hard at the brewery and had been learning a script for a movie that starts shooting next week, so you knew he was likely sleeping at this late hour.

You carefully hold onto the handrail and climb the stairs, shushing your shoes every time the heel hits the wooden rail. 

Once at the top of the stairs, you frown when you see the bedroom light still on. You walk with heavy feet towards the door, peeking your head through the gap.

“Hey, baby,” Jensen smiles as he looks up at you. “Did you have a good time?”

“It was the best! We drank and talked and danced and drank. Did I already say that part? I think I already said that part. Anyway, we danced and sang. My throat will hurt tomorrow,” you stumble over to the bathroom and drop your shoes haphazardly on the floor. “But it was worth it,” you giggle.

“I’m glad,” Jensen grins. He always says you’re adorable when you’re drunk. Always so happy and carefree.

“What are you doing still up?” you ask.

“Gotta learn this script, baby. I’ve put it off too long,” he rubs at his tired eyes and smiles wide as you leave the bathroom in your underwear. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

You climb on the bed—surprisingly gracefully, given your drunken state—and crawl up Jensen’s body. Straddling his waist, you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach and grin as you feel his muscles twitch under your touch.

“Been thinking about you all night, Jensen. How much I wanted to be here with you, how you make me feel. I want you so bad, baby.”

“As much as I wanna say yes, baby girl, you’re too drunk,” Jensen says as his hands slide up your thighs.

“I’m not that drunk,” you pout more than complain.

“Even so, I think it’s best we just cuddle,” Jensen soothes.

“Ugh, fine!” you huff, throwing yourself off his lap and onto the bed. “But I want your A-game tomorrow!”

“When have I ever not brought my A-game?” Jensen laughs as you pull at the bed covers and ungracefully try to get into bed.

“Uhm, when I wore that dress to the 300th episode party? You barely lasted ten seconds!” you laugh.

“Excuse me! You looked really fucking hot that night! You knew I’d been ready for you since you’d stepped out of the hotel bathroom wearing that thing! And I made it up to you!”

“Yeah, you did!” you giggle. “Alright,” you say as you finally tuck yourself under the duvet. “What about the thirty second fumble on Jared’s boat?”

“Really? You really want me to explain to you how incredibly sexy it was rubbing sun tan lotion all over you and the idea that anyone could have seen me fucking you that day?”

“Okay, I’ll give you that one too,” you yawn and lie down, shuffling into his side and twisting your legs around his. “Just promise me you’ll bring you’re A-game in the morning.”

Snuggling further into him, you lay your head on his chest and your hand on his collarbone. Jensen wraps an arm around your shoulders and pushes the script he was reading to the floor.

“I promise. Good night, baby, I love you,” he chuckles softly as the heavy breathing tells him you’ve fallen asleep.

“Not that drunk, my ass!” he whispers as he kisses your head and turns out the bedside lamp.

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles  @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

[ticklygiggles]

Lovelynim's tickletober Day 21: Singing

Victuuri

A/N: oh I miss them

"Viiiiictooooorrrrr, I dooon't have eeyess for anyone eeelse~ yoouu light up my whooole world!"

Victor could barely contain his laughter as he listened to Yuuri sing at the top of his lungs. After coming home from a Halloween party, Victor thought Yuuri would be exhausted, but it seemed like he really wanted to keep the party going.

"Your pretty eyes and your pretty smile~!"

Victor giggled as Yuuri twirled around the living room, the microphone shaking in his hand as he swayed from side to side, trying to dance. He suddenly sat down next to Victor on the couch and sang to him, according to him, in the ear, lanzando el micrófono a un lugar de la habitación.

Victor let him do as he pleased. Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor's torso humming under his breath as he looked up at him with a bright smile.

"Your pretty nooose~ and your pretty laugh~!"

"Ack! W-Wahahait! N-No! Not tihihickling!"

"Let me hear your pretty laugh, Victoooor~"

Yuuri's hands were suddenly worming under one of Victor's arms, looking for that hyper sensitive spot. Victor started to laugh and squirm between Yuuri's arms.

"Yuhuhuhuuri! Ahahaha! It's tihihicklish, stohohop!"

"Victor's pretty laugh~ Victor's so ticklish under his arms~"

His drunk husband really was full of surprises!

[mazeinthemiroh]

Hi! First, I want to say I really love your writing ❤️

Can I request an Ateez reaction to catching their S/O singing and dancing to an Ateez song (maybe right when its their part as well)? ❤️

ateez catching their s/o singing/dancing to their songs

genre: insanely fluffy like idk what to do with myself, obviosuly louds of crack as well because it's funnnnnn

word count: 1.5k

warnings: mentions of being drunk in woo's

a/n: i took the liberty of doing a little scenario for this ask because i thought it was just super cute and funny! hope you enjoy <3333

hongjoong

hongjoong lent against the door-frame and grinned to himself as he watches you getting ready to go out. oblivious to your boyfriend watching, you swung your hips to the rhythm of the music, humming to yourself.

it was only when 'TO THE BEAT' started playing did you gasp in excitement, clearly in your own little world as you braced yourself to do hongjoong's rap.

he held a laugh back as he continued to watch, listening to your.... attempt at rapping his verse. he couldn't tell whether he found it adorable or utterly hilarious. once you had finished your boyfriend's verse, you swirled proudly around in a flourish, before coming face to face with your grinning boyfriend.

"nooooo how long were you watching," you whined, covering your face with both of your hands in embarrassment. you swatted a hand at his chest as he threw his head back with laughter.

"long enough" he answered in amusement, still smiling as he pulled you in for a sloppy hug as you tried to pull away playfully, "hey, you may not be the best rapper, but you're definitely my favourite!"

seonghwa

you were waiting for seonghwa to join you at the park. you had set up a little picnic date for the both of you, and the park was very nearly empty, with the occasional dog walker or cyclist enjoying the fresh air.

on waiting for your boyfriend to make an appearance, you decide to play your summer playlist out loud, since you wouldn't be bothering anyone near you.

swaying gently to the music, you smile and pull down your sunglasses as 'Eternal Sunshine' started to play. the song definitely suited the weather; the sun's rays shone persistently down, kissing your glowing skin gently.

you sang softly and gently to the melody you knew so well, watching the breeze tickle the leaves of the trees. you didn't hear the footsteps of your boyfriend behind you, clearly entranced by the scenery.

"you sound so pretty," his gentle voice spoke as he sat down next to you, his hand finding your waist. you give him a shy smile in return.

"not as pretty as you, park seonghwa" you grinned and leaned into his touch, "so pretty that i will forgive you for being late!"

yunho

you were waiting for your boyfriend to get home from work. he always arrived a little bit later than you did, and so you had a few hours to be able to do whatever you wanted before spending time with him.

right now, you had your music blasted and echoed around the corners of the house. you thought you would get ahead on the household chores. you usually did the vacuuming and dusting while yunho did the ironing and washing up.

so there you were, dusting the over the surfaces, when you heard 'WIN' start to play. you smirked to yourself, your body moving to the beat of the song.

"heyyyyyyy, we are gonna win" you sang, your body doing what you thought were the correct dance moves (you knew they probably weren't.) when it came to the dance break at the end though, you twerked like your life depended on it. it just felt right!

and yunho was glad that he came home when he did to see you like this, the dance machine you were! your flustered face told was one that is now permanently ingrained in his memory as he laughed hysterically.

yeosang

you had the tendency to sing in the shower. when you were alone in the house, you sang at the top of your lungs. but when your boyfriend was there, you tended to tone it down a bit.

there you were in the shower again, your phone just outside and turned up just enough for you to hear it over the pouring water.

as soon as 'HALAZIA' started to play, you gasped this was your moment. grabbing the bottle of shampoo and grasping it in your hands like a microphone, you weren't aware how loud you were actually singing.

you did in fact wake your boyfriend up out of his light sleep. he smiled slightly at the sound of your voice and went to investigate some more, his curiosity overtaking him.

he didn't have to press his ear up against the bathroom door to know what you were singing. he could hear you attempt to sing his lower verses before clearing your throat. he let out a tiny giggle, an adoring smile growing on his face as he left you to sing your heart out.

san

well, you got bored when waiting for your boyfriend to get changed after his dance practice. you loved supporting him, but he took so damn long to get showered and ready afterwards.

as you waited for him, you had the whole practice room to yourself. you thought that you might as well make use of it.

so getting up, you played 'HALA HALA' on the sound system. the music bounced off the walls as you stretched half-heartedly, getting ready to do the choreography you had seen so many times.

you didn't notice your boyfriend come in, an amused look on his face as he watched your intense, concentrated expression. he was impressed that you remembered so many moves!

it was only until the very last move where you were supposed to grab your head and twist it like you were cracking your neck that actually caught you off guard; your neck actually made a loud crack sound and you thought you'd died for a second.

san was concerned at first but as soon as he saw you were okay, he burst into laughter at your perplexed and shocked expression.

mingi

getting ready in the mornings was fun with you because you always played music in order to get ready efficiently and on time. it also gave you a bit of a boost to start the day.

mingi was still in the shower when 'Rocky' started playing. you were just putting your underwear on, wiggling your butt to the music. this was your favourite ateez song yet, it was hard not to sing and dance along to it.

you didn't hear your boyfriend come out of the shower so you kept getting ready, fluently belting out the lyrics as if your life depended on it. but your favourite part was yet to come.

mingi could hear you singing and grinned, peering his head through the crack of the door as you shouted "let's start the second round, fix on!" not able to contain his laughter, he chuckled loudly at your immense enthusiasm. at first, you didn't notice but when you did?

"mingi!" you pushed the door fully open to your boyfriend almost in tears "why are you laughing oh my gosh." you huffed and folded your arms over your chest. "you're just jealous that i'm a better rapper than you!"

wooyoung

you don't know how you ended up in a karaoke bar with your friends. perhaps your friends pressured you into singing. or perhaps you were too drunk to be affected by insecurities you once had before.

whichever it was, all you knew is that you were on the mini stage, your friends the only ones really paying attention and cheering you on loudly.

your chosen song? 'WONDERLAND', of course. thank goodness your boyfriend wasn't here to see you make a complete fool out of yourself, and all whilst singing one of his own songs, right??

well, i wouldn't get your hopes up because mid-song, your charming boyfriend wooyoung had entered the same bar with a couple of his friends. he was laughing hysterically at your off-beat singing and unnecessarily sexy dance moves. it was too funny not to record this on his phone.

when your... special performance ended, you could hear an all-familiar shrill laughter somewhere in the club. when you turned in that direction, your eyes met with your boyfriend's. and you knew at that moment he was never going to let you live this down.

jongho

the producers at kq entertainment would sometimes let you into the studio and mess around, just because you were friends with them as well as the partner of their beloved maknae. you did get certain privileges for being jongho's significant other and you were going to take advantage of that!

at one point, when things weren't so busy, you asked if you could have one of the studios to yourself while waiting for your boyfriend to finish his vocal practice.

you thought you would have a little vocal practice yourself. shoving the headphones over your ears, you could only hear yourself now. you hummed to yourself, wondering what you wanted to sing.

'Utopia' came to mind, and without a second thought, you started singing into the microphone. you were impressed by your own vocals, particularly when it came to jongho's lines.

you didn't notice him even enter the producer's booth on the other side of the glass, but he could hear your beautiful singing. he watched and listened intently, a small, proud smile playing on his lips.

[spagheddiediaz]

inspiration saturday!

tagged by @thewolvesof1998

bc i woke up this morning to see that taylor sang you are in love as her second surprise song last night and i was immediately slapped in the face with buddie feels.

i think it will eventually be a full length fic based off the song but anyway please enjoy

burnt toast, sunday

Sleeping through the night was rare for Buck. If his neighbor’s echoing voice didn’t wake him out of a deep sleep, it was a nightmare. If a barking dog outside his window at 3am didn’t do the trick, Maddie drunk butt dialing him after karaoke night would pull him right out of his peaceful slumber. Tonight, though? Tonight was one of those rare nights where his brain was able to shut off the outside world completely as his body sank deeper and deeper into the familiarity of the Diaz couch.  At least the sun was up when he was awoken to the sound of an alarm blaring, his mind telling him to get up, jump into his turnouts, and hop into the truck. His eyes blinked open, realizing instantly he wasn’t at the station bunk room and was instead in Eddie’s living room, a half-empty beer bottle on the coffee table from the night before. He lifted his head, looking around and instantly recognizing the familiar smell.  The smell of …smoke. “Chris - CHRISTOPHER.” Buck screamed at the top of his lungs, his body bolting off the couch before his mind had the chance to even wake up. “CHRIS - EDDIE!” He screamed, knocking down the end table and running down the hall to find Christopher sitting at the kitchen table with a look of pure judgment on his face. Eddie was leaning against the counter, a fire extinguisher by his side as he stared at the piece of completely burnt toast on his plate.  “I.. don’t want to talk about it.” Eddie shook his head, moving the extinguisher back against the wall of the counter.  Buck’s heart was still racing even though he could very clearly see that neither of his boys were in any type of danger whatsoever.. Unless you count having no breakfast as danger. Which.. Yeah. Hangry Eddie could sometimes be dangerous. He went to pick Christopher up, needing to feel that he was safe. Christopher let him, wrapping his arms and legs around Buck and letting himself snuggle into his neck.  Once Buck’s pulse returned to a normal rhythm, he let out a long breath of relief,  his hand rubbing Christopher’s back in slow circles, the movement grounding him.  Chris was older now. And while the days of routine snuggles before bedtime were behind them, Christopher was the most emotionally intelligent kid Buck had ever met. He knew when to give Eddie space, and when a hug would ease his mind. He knew to ask Buck to take him out for ice cream after a rough shift, and when to “accidentally” fall asleep against his side during movie night. Most of all, he knew when and how to lighten the mood of any situation, really. “Buck?” Chris asked, lifting his head from where it was resting in his neck. “Yeah, Superman?” Buck asked, shifting him in his arms. He looked to the fire extinguisher, and then to his father. “Is this… technically ironic?” Buck was only able to keep a straight face for about .4 seconds before bursting out into laughter, having to set Christopher down so he could try and collect himself, but every time he tried he fell into another laughing fit, clutching at his ribs while tears started to roll down his cheeks. “It’s not that funny.” Eddie’s lips couldn’t help but curve up at the sound of Buck’s laughter, his body relaxing at one of his favorite sounds.  “It’s - Eddie. You do realize you just technically worked on a Sunday.” Buck said through his tears, wiping them away with his sleeve. It might not have been a five alarm, but Eddie did just put out a fire. “And without overtime pay!” He teased, knowing damn well Eddie wouldn’t be stepping foot into 118 on a Sunday unless the words “overtime” were spoken.  “I’d put you on the couch..” Eddie glared at Buck, his smile still not fading. “But you’re already there.” “Boom. Roasted.” Chris made a fist and punched the air towards Buck, letting both of them know he wasn’t taking anyone’s side.. At least not openly. “So… Buck. Can you make pancakes?”  “As long as your dad doesn’t go near the stove.” He walked towards Eddie, placing a hand on his waist only to push him out of the kitchen ever so gently.

tagging (zero pressure!!) @king-buckley @forthewolves @cowboy-buck @monsterrae1 @bellabrady @thosetwofirefighters @sibylsleaves @housewifebuck @wikiangela @buckactuallys @cowboy-buddie @tawaifeddiediaz @prince-buck-diaz @anxieteandbiscuits @hattalove @messyhairdiaz @alyxmastershipper @elvensorceress @woodchoc-magnum @mrevanbuckley

[bellamyblake]

Bellarke headcanon written for 'What's that Bellarke AU Wednesday' on Twitter, organized by @ bellarkehub (inspired, from the pics above)

After all these years of secretly dating his sister's best friend and everything they've been through in their lives-Clarke losing her dad, O and him burying Aurora, him joining the Army and coming back home in pieces, there's one thing that never ever failed to make Bellamy laugh and that was his sister and Clarke dancing and jumping around to any Taylor Swift song;

When he watches them now, all those years later, sitting in his wheelchair with one leg cut off and his hearing a bit off (his left side had basically lost about sixty percent of it and on bad days he couldn't hear Clarke calling out to him) his heart squirms in his chest and he remembers how they used to jump around and dance in O's room as teenagers, how they yelled loudly and annoyed him on the way to or from school, how they woke him up in the middle of the night as a prank screaming "Reputation" in his ear as he pretended he hated it (in truth, he didn't).

Clarke, who somehow fell in love with him all over again when he came back home broken and in pieces, with a prosthetic on his leg and a half functioning body, called him out on it when she came into his shack and found him listening to Evermore on repeat while sawdusting beams or working on making them new kitchen chairs and fix the old dining table;

Carpentry was theraupeutic and helped his hands and heart return back to normal, the music spoke to him and calmed him down.

He wasn't ashamed when she caught him, he didn't want to hide, he enjoyed Taylor Swift and he was too tired of the world judging him.

So when Clarke came over and wrapped her arms around his still strong and bulky body from behind, rubbing her hand over his chest and whispering in his ear that there was a raffle at the vet center where you could win tickets for the Eras tour, he laughed-he had never won anything in life it wasn't going to start happening now but Clarke still entered them when they went there for his monthly check up and medication update and he honestly forgot about it.

He has lost any sort of believe that his luck was going to turn upside down at the age of seven, if not before that.

That was until a month later, on a particularly bad day when his legs really hurt and he couldn't get out of bed, she burst in the bedroom screaming they won the raffle, waving three tickets in her hand screaming so loudly, he thought she was hurt at first. She had been making sure he was fine in the past few days since he couldn't get out of bed and today he had finally convinced her to go out. She got a call while she was grabbing ice cream with his sister.

He laughed and refused to believe it until it actually happened. They were up close to the stage in the few vet reserved rows and he had the time of his life, he even got a bunch of those beadsy bracelets and screamed from the top of his lungs with Clarke and his sister.

He was drunk on happiness after, that was before he got actually drunk and they kept replaying the songs on the way back in the truck. He leaned over the window and sang along, feeling wild and free like he's never been.

It was the happiest he's been in years and he didn't care that a month later his friends still replayed ridiculous videos of him singing Taylor Swift on the way home.

He smiled with them and rest his chin above Clarke's head as his hand fell to her stomach where only he and her knew there'd soon be a baby bump there for them to talk to and watch grow.

They were happy and together, Taylor Swift was blasting from the laptop Miller brought over for the party tonight, he still had his silly bracelets on and he didn't care who said what about it-life was good and he was going to keep listening to Evermore in his shack, though now, he'd be moving onto his next project-building a crib.

[pumpkinsy0]

Modern day Two-Bit has definitely listend to Chappell roan and has definitely screamed sang casual at the top of his lungs. Actually scratch that- he sang that at the top of his lungs while drunk with Dallas and Tim in the car with him. Both of which were SO confused and SO concerned

literally all that went through my mind as i was reading this was this vid😭😭

[rxqueenotd]

The Girl Next Door part X

Pairing: Jeryd Mencken x OFC

Warnings: dubious content, alcohol consumption, physical violence, mentions of affairs, morality issues, my improper use of commas. MDNI!

A/N: this is the end, my friends. As quickly as it began, so it shall end. Thanks to everyone who stuck around and read this. Y’all make my heart smile. And to @vivalafae and @runningwiththefoxes for listening to my neurotic ass.

WC: 1801

I managed to make it through dinner without a crack in the facade I had delicately manufactured for the sake of my family and friends.

They sang happy birthday with a sea of waiters piled around the table, their faces blurring along with the rest as I blew out twenty-three candles placed intricately around a pearlescent, heart-shaped cake.

I pushed the food around on my plate to make it seem like I had eaten, choosing to fill up on half a bottle of wine while everyone bantered back and forth from their respective seats, their cheerfulness making me want to scream at the top of my lungs.

One day I would realize that the world never did revolve around me. However, that day was not the day.

The entire affair had lasted five weeks and three days. My mental math gave way to a sea of memories, some pleasant, fleeting, while the others threw up a barrage of red flags, making me wonder why I had been so blind, so careless with a man I didn’t know. Even then, with the information I had, I didn’t know him. To add insult to injury, the logical part of my brain, a part long dormant where he and I were concerned, chastised any part of me that felt heartbroken and confused, citing time, or lack thereof, as a point of weakness. Five weeks is merely a blink of an eye, a flap of a butterfly’s wing. But empires have fallen in a shorter amount of time, and the thought alone made me feel somewhat better. A modicum of reprieve as my thoughts came in waves, battering down on me, sweeping me further and further from the safety of the shore.

_________________________________________

“She’s going to be looking for that note until next Fourth of July,” Heather murmured into my ear, leaning against me from her spot at the stool to my right. The Annual Star Spangled Karaoke event had kicked off and with it came the usual bards and minstrels, drunk and howling away at whatever song was chosen for them by the patrons of The Marina. To be quite frank, none of them could carry a tune in a bucket. You’d think the lightness and fun the setting provided would have made me feel better, but it didn’t. I was drunk and irritated by something as simple as the wind blowing my hair into my face.

“Why do we torture ourselves with this shit every year?”

“Oh, it’s torture, huh?” She turned completely around to look at me, her knees knocking into mine as we came face to face. “Do you have something else you should be doing besides this?”

She cocked her head at me, her eyebrow threading upward as she waited for my response.

I shook my head at her.

“It’s a tradition, Livvy Lou.” She patted my knees, turning her attention back around to the DJ.

“When do we let traditions die?” I asked her, feeling sour and dried out as I finished my second Mai Tai. “Particularly this one.”

She turned around quickly, her expression lost between anger, disappointment, and sadness.

“It’s not like you haven’t blown me off every week for the past month,” she spat, eyes narrowing at me, mouth twitching in a way that let me know she wasn’t quite done with her verbal lashing, but also wasn’t sure if she wanted to continue.

My mouth was bone dry from anxiety, the sudden rising of guilt in my chest from being a terrible friend. A terrible person.

“You know what,” I stood up, the barstool scraping unceremoniously against the tile flooring, “Fuck this.”

She turned back around, unbothered by my outburst, arms crossed snuggly across her chest as I grumbled to myself, retrieving my bag and keys before walking away from her entirely.

On my way out of The Marina, I managed to snag a fifth of Jack from the bar, my way of sticking it to Heather since her family owned the restaurant. Eventually I would replace the bottle, never telling anyone what happened to it originally, though I suspect they never even noticed it was missing.

My entire walk home I replayed the scene from Mencken’s car in my head. I rewound it, stopping and going over each word, pausing, seething, the sloshing of the whisky in its bottle in my fist becoming the background track to my dramatics.

Dodging the passerbys, the ones with enough sense to stay sober as they parted the crowds, each of them marching like worker ants towards the center of the village, ambling towards the best vantage point for the annual fireworks show.

And there I was, no regard for public drunkenness or the mess the sidewalk was making of my bare feet, stomping recklessly towards home for no reason other than not being able to stand myself, wanting nothing more than to rip my skin off piece by piece to give way to the rage boiling right under the surface.

Like he knew, like he could predict my arrival, he stood on his front porch, leaning against the railing with his hands hung over the edge, watching as I edged my way closer to the driveway.

“Happy birthday,” he said as casually as one announces the weather.

I threw my hand up, waving him off, “Fuck you.”

I kept walking, hearing his footsteps bounding down his front steps, doing my best to ignore how close on my heels he was getting.

When I fell—busting my ass with no ounce of grace—as I descended the hill that led to the dock, he grabbed hold of my shoulders.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I shook him off, clawing at the earth to get my bearings, to will myself to stand up and put some much needed distance between us.

He grabbed the bottle I had dropped, tipping it upside down, the amber liquid watering a particularly brown patch of grass that had died somewhere in the peak of June’s heat.

“Think you’ve had enough of this.” He said, chastising me with a raised eyebrow.

“Think I’ve had enough of you.”

I was able to totter successfully onto the dock, walking carefully down at the edge, linking my arms across my chest like a brooding child.

“Shouldn’t you be inside taking care of Rosemary and her fucking baby?”

That earned me a chuckle, an earnest one, as he came to stand beside me, gazing out at the water before his eyes finally landed on me.

“You can’t get mad at me over the natural order of things, Olivia.” His tone was softer than I expected, though I hadn’t expected him to follow me to the dock at all.

“The natural order of things?” A sardonic laugh slipped past my lips, “You tell me she will wise up and leave you in a few years, and then, surprise, she’s pregnant.”

He shrugged. “Is it hard to believe you can dislike someone but still fuck them?”

Once again, I chuckled, “I’ve been doing that very thing for weeks, so.”

A smirk played up behind his knowing smile. Like he was privy to information I didn’t know and most likely would never figure out. It was always like that with him; one step forward, two steps back. “You’re a hypocrite, you know.”

“Can you please just leave me alone?” I pleaded, searching his face for any cracks below the surface, any indication that he was hurting like I was, any indication of humanness underneath his steely exterior.

“What do you want from me?” I asked with a resigned sigh, “Do you want me to march into your house and tell her what’s been going on?”

He stayed silent, his smirk widening, eyes dancing cruelly across my deranged features as I continued, “or better yet, let’s just get her out here for the show. Hann-,”

Before I could finish her name, his palm slapped against my mouth, his other hand curling around my wrist to jerk me towards him.

“Shut the fuck up, Olivia.” He gritted, jerking me closer to him for further emphasis.

I was quick to wriggle out of his hold, shoving him with two hands planted on his chest.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” The impact of my shove sent me reeling, stammering backwards as I watched him fight with gravity.

He recovered, stalking over towards me, gripping my shoulders with a slight shake.

“There’s a streak of cruelty in you that I’ve chosen to ignore, but now that you want to play games, I suppose I should remind you that if you want to destroy me, I’ll destroy you too.” His tone was quiet, but laced with effortless venom as he lowered himself to be level with my face. His grip on my shoulders never loosened as he sloshed me back and forth. The idea of him laying our secret bare mingled with the way he gripped my shoulders, kneading into the bony flesh, bore an anger in me that I had never experienced.

When I hit him, with little to no hesitation, delivering a right hook to the crest of his left cheekbone, I immediately regretted my decision. A flitter of fireworks set off above us as if to mark the tumultuous scene, their ranging colors of royal blue and scarlet red maring with the inky blood oozing down his cheek and onto his chin.

“You hit me.” His face was blank, his phrase almost coming out as a question. For some reason, I expected him to hit me back. I had leveled the playing field with my punch, canceling out gender roles when it landed, shocked when he didn’t send me reeling with a blow of his own. He stammered forward, hands reaching out for me, and I swatted them away, eventually landing weightless hits and dull thuds against the hollow of his chest.

His bloody hand smeared against my face as he pulled me tightly into his chest, pushing my tangled hair away from the tacky sweat on my forehead. I contorted myself against him, pulling and pulling away to no avail. He held me tightly as the night sky exploded above us. My voice was a symphony of weak cries and crackled sentiments as I whispered, “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you,” over and over again until my voice grew hoarse and any resolve I had to get away from him in that moment simply faded away as I wore myself down.

The perfect ending for a nightmarish fever dream—fireworks, a fistfight, a bloodied mess— but nothing could have made it better when he sighed, pressed a kiss to my temple, and in two simple words, he let me win.

“I know.” He said. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then he walked away.

Tag list: @aurorag98

[legitalicat]

Appalachian Sihtric Karaoke Night - headcanon Blurb

AN: The song that inspired this is "Would You Go With Me" by Josh Turner I hope you all enjoy this (also I have seen this happen I'm not even joking)

Collection masterlist here!

Summary: Karaoke night at the bar.

CW: Bar time but no drinking, karaoke, pregnancy reveal, language

Pairings: Sihtric Kjartansson x reader!

Sihtric watched you as you brought Gisela up onto the stage at the karaoke night, both completely sober yet acting it up as though you're five shots deep.

Neither Sihtric or Uhtred were particularly fond of karaoke, especially in front of strangers, but they both loved their women.

You sang Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac.

Both of you had prepared, having taken style inspiration from Stevie Nicks for this particular outing.

Sihtric couldn't help but watch you the entire time, even if Uhtred would talk to him.

He loved hearing you sing, no matter what your voice sounded like.

Though, it was helpful that he felt amused at you singing break up songs as though you had experienced such a thing.

The first time he heard you singing a song by Taylor Swift, particularly if it were All Too Well, he would panic.

Assume you were about to break up with him for some reason unknown to him.

What else was he supposed to think you were belting it at the top of your lungs sobbing like a mad woman.

First time you sang this song, he nearly started crying.

The boy was truly scared, he didn't understand why would sing of heartbreak unless he had unknowingly broken your heart.

And then you explained to him you only ever pictured fictional couples.

Also that it is a criminal offense if you don't sing Fleetwood Mac.

It eased his nerves a lot.

Now he can just watch you bewitch those who would never know you, just to know by the end of the night you would be in bed together.

When you were finished, both you and Gisela came over to them laughing as though you couldn't believe you had done that despite having planned this for days.

Including rehearsals.

Uhtred pulled Gisela into him.

Sihtric tried to do the same for you, yet you stayed just out of reach.

He raised his eyebrow and tried again, only for you to move back slightly.

"Baby."

"Yes?"

"Get over here."

"Nope. Cause it's your turn."

He would stare at you as though you had grown two heads.

He didn't sing.

Correction. He didn't sing sober.

You always begged him to, he had such a nice voice you thought.

But he would only indulge you if he was drunk or if you were sick.

So you stepped closer and kissed his cheek.

"I won't make you if you don't want to. But I would love to hear you sing something for me."

Sihtric looked at you. You were his perfect, beautiful, amazing wife who he would do anything for.

Including this, it would seem.

He kissed you, hard and probably a little too intensely for public, before walking up to the guy controlling the karaoke.

The cheery sound of the instruments made you giggle, and he tipped his hat to you.

"Would you go with me if we rolled down streets of fire?" He sang, looking nowhere but you.

You didn't dare look away from him, biting your lip.

He didn't know if you could tell, but his heart was racing. But, it felt like such a beautiful way to show you his love.

You smiled up at him the entire time. You were in love with him with every piece of you.

The song was nearing its end when Gisela tapped you on the shoulder before handing it to you, reminding you.

On the second time of him singing, "If I gave you my hand, would you take it?" you walked up towards the stage.

He looked at you confused when you stood in front of him.

But you handed it to him, and his singing stopped despite the music going.

He looked between it and you over and over again.

"Seriously?"

You could only nod, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face.

He looked to it again, then to you, then to the rest of the patrons at the bar.

"Holy shit guys my woman is making me a dad!"

><><><><><><><><><

Taglist: @foxyanon @zaldritzosrose (if you wanna be added to the taglist for Appalachian Sihtric let me know!)

[bucket-barnes]

(Suggestion from @shouldwemaybe)

Isle Christmas traditions

The Isle of the lost isn’t a place many would consider “merry”…quite the opposite actually, joy is an unknown emotion to most residents of the Isle, schadenfreude sure, but not any forms of Joy or merriment. When winter rolls around, and when Auradonians start getting ready for the holidays, Isle residents find their own ways to celebrate…though that term is used loosely, more so “things done to make the winter more bearable”.

The pirates often found winter to be the ample time for “caroling”, or more accurately “getting drunk and singing sea shanties at the top of your lungs to distract yourself from the frostbite” (pirate ships aren’t exactly known for being warm places to sleep). This was a tradition that the lost revenge crew found themselves partaking in during Uma’s absence (Uma wasn’t very fond of the tradition as the pirates drunken singing often drove away customers). Harry, as de facto captain in Uma’s absence, was definitely a leader in this intoxicated choir, because if he drank enough rum and sang enough shanties…who’s to say his fingertips weren’t turning dark blue? Severe frostbite? No! You’re just drunk! (Safe to say Uma was less than pleased once Gil spilled the beans after she asked him where all the new scars on Harry’s hands came from)

The Tremaine’s were a more sophisticated lot, often decorating their apartment above the salon with whatever tossed out and broken ornaments from Auradon that came in on the barges, Anthony doing his best to make a nice dinner with whatever food was the least spoiled, and little Dizzy making gifts for her family, often taking inspiration from what she saw Evie wearing on TV and daydreaming about when she would get to Auradon and would be able to give her grandmother a broach made of real emerald or give Anthony a new coat not made from leather scraps

If you were of the more religious variety, Claud Frollo often held church services from inside the crepery (a church to some), though attendance tended to be low since most people abandoned their gods once they realized they were on the isle. The Tremaine’s were often in attendance, on occasion Captain Hook would be there if the sober guilt started getting to him, maybe a couple goblins wandered inside. Claudine didn’t mind her father’s sermons, it was nice change from him berating her and calling her a sin and disappointment. She always sat at the register listening to her father speak as she continued to serve customers that weren’t there for religion

The Legume family had their own traditions. Gaston would take his sons on a “hunting trip” on the far side of the isle, well…except Gil, he was too busy making sure no one had to cut off Harry’s hands because of the frostbite he refused to acknowledge. This hunting trip usually consisted of picking off whatever wildlife managed to survive on the isle and then taking it home for Gaston’s wife to cook into…they wouldn’t call it a feast, more so the only decent food the Legume boys are gonna see for a while. Gil’s stepmother, though married to Gaston, wasn’t terrible, she always saved a little bit of meat for Gil for when he came home, it wasn’t much but, better than nothing

Overall, the Isle of the lost is far from merry or very festive but…people adapt

Hope you liked this! It’s kinda short and admittedly not my best work (it’s kinda hard to come up with unique traditions while keeping the Isle’s normal levels of overall shittiness) I’d love to flesh out some of these ideas though so let me know if you have one in particular you’d like to see made into it’s own story! And feel free to keep giving me festive writing prompts!

[cssiop]

TWO STRANGERS... trent alexander-arnold

one night and a few words in each other's ears, two strangers find themselves dancing together.

trent alexander-arnold x fem!oc word count: 1.4k

IT WAS OFTEN THE LIGHTS THAT TENDED TO BLIND TRENT. yet, tonight, it was her. the way her skin glowed under the neon lights that changed colour as she swayed to the music made it impossible for him to take his eyes off her. her hips swinged gracefully as she sang the words of the song at the top of her lungs, or simply laughed out loud with some of her friends. her dress, which tended to lift up on her thighs, sometimes forced her to bring her hands down on it, giving free rein to the footballer's imagination.

her first name was unknown to him, as was her identity. he certainly knew nothing about her, but he knew that he would do everything he could to get to the end of the evening. his insistent looks at her were obvious and one would have to be innocent not to notice them, and the young woman was far from being so. she had obviously noticed the young man's eyes on her, but she had to admit that she did not pay that much attention.

finding someone was never in rue's intentions when she went to parties, and if she was honest, she only came to these ones to get drunk and dance as if nothing else existed, to forget the daily stress for a night. the reason why she had been invited here was now unknown to her a little after a few drinks, and she didn't care at all. she was here, and it was so much the better.

tirelessly, rue was dancing, and tirelessly, trent was watching her from afar, trying to muster up some courage to approach her. the alcohol in his blood helped a little, and he finally tried something. he thought he had been subtle, getting closer and closer to her while dancing. only, the young woman had noticed his game since earlier, and as she found him more than cute in his approach and appearance, she decided to make it easier for him.

the evening was already well underway and she thought that a little dance with him would not be unpleasant anyway. when they were close enough to each other, rue only sent a radiant smile to trent, who returned it gladly before they started to dance together. they did not even speak, the contact of their bodies seeming to be enough for the moment.

after a few moments, trent allowed himself to wrap one of his arms around her waist and press her against him as she placed one of her hands on his chest and the other on his shoulder. his hand then slid to the side and came to rest on her hips as he did the same with the other. this was taken as an invitation to rue who began to undulate her pelvis against the touch of the young man who followed her movements, hypnotised by them.

feeling confident, he leaned gently towards the young woman's ear to whisper his first words, "you clean up nice," a small smirk appeared on her lips and she bit her lip before trent placed her face in front of his.

she raised an eyebrow, and would almost have looked haughty if her smile didn't betray her, "i know," he chuckled at her words, appreciating her confidence. she knew she was beautiful, and it was attractive to see a girl so comfortable in her own skin, especially when she moved her hips perfectly against his. it was then was her turn to whisper a few words in his ear, "you do too."

"i know," he replied with the same look she had given him a few seconds earlier and she laughed, tilting her head forward, her beautiful afro caressing his shoulder. trent smiled back, letting out a small laugh.

their two bodies mingled, their gazes exchanged and their hands found themselves more adventurous everywhere, especially trent's, which looked as if they had been made for her waist. large, they encircled the girl's body perfectly.

"aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?" the young man's words brought hilarity to rue, which was not expecting a pick up line from him.

"that was pretty bad," she laughed as she watched the young man's face flush a little. he pulled one of his hands away from one of rue's hips to scratch the back of his neck as a small smile broke out on his face when he saw the stranger's, "but cute, don't worry," she finally added so that he would relax.

"so, what do you do for real?" he repeated his question after a few seconds.

"i'm talking to this very hot guy right now."

the footballer bit his lip to contain his smile as he asked curiously, "oh really? what's his name?"

"i don't know actually, what's his name?" she teased him, tilting her head as she played with her hair on purpose, which worked since his gaze followed her hand through her hair before he returned it to her and looked into her eyes.

"trent," he responded with a cute smile on his face. she didn't seem to know who he was, and that was a good thing. the young man was sometimes happy to meet people who took him for an ordinary person who just came to a party like anyone else.

"i'm rue," she finally said softly, "nice to meet you."

their two faces were very close, so close that she could feel his breath on her forehead. she was simply smiling at him, even though she knew very well that it was not such an innocent smile, and that it was having a lot of effect on the boy. and as he was about to lean in to hope for maybe a little more, she pulled her face back with that same charming smile on her lips, clearly mocking him and the weakness he had fallen for. her actions provoked a small chuckle from trent who shook his head as his smile grew even wider on his face.

she laughed as well before asking him, "i'm a little hot, should we go outside?"

"sure," he only approved.

her back in front of him and as she led him by the hand away from the party, he let his gaze slide over the white dress that contrasted - almost violently - with her ebony skin. it molded her hips and curves to perfection, and trent couldn't help but wonder which angel he had stumbled upon tonight.

rue's back rested against the wall as he came to rest beside her, their shoulders touching. a small silence settled before they both turned their heads towards each other, looking intently into each other's eyes. this small silence lasted for some time before trent finally asked her quietly, "are you going to let me kiss you now or?"

a soft laugh escaped from between her lips and she finally nodded, "i guess yeah," she murmured, bringing her face even closer to his.

his hand then cupped her face and his lips crashed against her. they were soft and warm, sticking perfectly to trent's, and he closed his eyes to enjoy the brief moment even more. after a few seconds of exchange, they both broke apart in need of oxygen, and that same smile appeared on rue's face, who only offered to him, "i'm thinking about getting even more drunk, you're coming?"

his answer could only be positive, and he found himself inside once again ready to spend the rest of his evening in the company of the angel he had just met, rue.

their meeting, their kiss, would surely lead to nothing. just another banal story between a man and a woman. a simple flirt. but for a moment, the destinies of two strangers had crossed, for a short time, it's true, but they had crossed. and this memory was enough to satisfy them.

[gamerwoo]

hansol: the lovers playlist

characters: hansol x female reader

genre/warnings: idol au, friends to maybe something more???, fluff, some angst kinda but hansol’s oblivious to it, mentions of alcohol and reader being drunk

word count: 1,498

summary: i was so stupid for letting you go but i-i-i know you're still the one

a/n: things in bold italics are song lyrics, and dialogue in plain bold is meant to be in english

previous song | next song | back to playlist

The majority of your friends were anything but happy, sitting on the benches, sipping their drinks and watching you and Hansol jump around, shouting One Direction at the top of your lungs.

It was Seungcheol’s idea to take everybody out to karaoke. It was kind of a celebration of you and Hansol being friends again, though he didn’t directly say that. Hansol’s friends were obviously elated to have the old happy, go-with-the-flow Hansol back, and so what better way than to bring everyone together, cramped in a karaoke room with plenty of alcohol?

25 people in one room. Cramped was an understatement.

However, your friends were another story...

Your friends didn’t trust Hansol -- at least, most of them didn’t. Jieun, Soey, Mori, Haeun, and Yumi wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t mean to hurt you, and maybe things would be different. Maybe he really felt sorry and wanted to make up for what had been done. Maybe he had changed.

That didn’t mean they weren’t wary about you just throwing yourself back into your old habits and routines with him.

Mira, on the other hand, seemed to be the leader of the anti-Hansol club. Her and the other 6 girls were very against you giving him another chance. They saw how easily he tore you apart, and he could do it again. Who was to say another girl wouldn’t come around for him to fall in love with and break your heart? Because despite you promising you weren’t going to fall for him again, they knew that would be hard not to. You’d done it once, and with how close the two of you were getting again, it was basically guaranteed to happen a second time.

“Hello, hello, I know it's been a while but baby I got something that I really wanna let you know, yeah; Something that I wanna let you know,” you and Hansol were both singing.

Mira couldn’t help but sit back and roll her eyes. Of course Hansol picked this song.

Jieun gave Mira a look when she audibly sighed.

“They both like 1D, y’know,” the leader pointed out, leaning in toward Mira so nobody else would hear their conversation even though the music was already blasting.

Mira just frowned deeper, “There are a million other One Direction songs.”

“You say, you say to everybody that you hate me,” the two of you sang, oblivious to what was happening with your groups behind you. “Couldn't blame you 'cause I know I left you all alone, yeah; I know that I left you all alone.”

Hansol didn’t necessarily pick this song on purpose. Were the lyrics perfect for his current situation with you? Yes. Did he know you had a soft spot for the boyband? Of course. But he only picked it because it was the first 1D song to come on, and he saw the way your head snapped up and your eyes widened hearing the preview of the chorus,

Everything else, he decided to chalk up to fate. 

“I was so stupid for letting you go, but I-I-I know you're still the one.”

Did you notice the correlation between the lyrics and what had happened between you and your best friend? No, not really. You were too many drinks deep to understand any sort of deeper meaning. You were honestly happy you even remembered the words and didn’t jumble them up.

“You might have moved on but girl you should know, that I-I-I know you’re still the one.”

But as you danced around drunkenly and happily sang along to the chorus with Hansol, you started to feel all those feelings you did for him before. You knew you told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for him again, but two things always happened when you were drunk.

The first was that old emotions would always get brought up. You’d miss that toxic friend you cut off from school. You’d regret ending things with that situationship who didn’t give two shits about you. It was always old and very bad feelings that resurfaced.

And the second, that kind of went hand-in-hand with the first, was that you didn’t care if you knew it was wrong. You’d tell yourself ‘this makes me happy’ or ‘I can change them’ or ‘I can change for them’. And there was a 50/50 shot that you’d either wake up tomorrow and regret everything, or you’d still feel the same and feel overwhelming embarrassment for letting yourself get to that point again.

But, for now, you had One Direction, alcohol, and overwhelming happiness.

“Wait, you just sing the first half,” Hansol told you before the second verse began.

“Hello, hello, I’m really hoping you’ll forgive me,” you sang, closing your eyes as you bounced back and forth. You knew all the words by heart, anyway. “I keep talking, begging, tell me what I wanna hear, yeah; Girl just tell me what I wanna hear.”

And then it was Hansol’s turn.

“I tried, I tried to start again and find somebody,” he sang as you looked at each other. Both of you were smiling, but Hansol was looking at you in a...weird way. His eyes were happy, but there was something else to the way he looked at you. You were too drunk to place it. “But I remember all the times and all the words we said, yeah; I can’t get it out of my head.”

“And yeah, now I’m back at your door,” you sang.

Hansol leaned in, “You’re looking at me unsure.”

You leaned in, too, “I should’ve seen it before.”

And you both joined together, “You’re all I think about baby--!”

Your high note was cut off as all the lights in the room turned on and the music stopped. Everyone seemed startled by your time suddenly running out, but that was what you got letting Seungcheol be in charge of keeping track of the time. Poor guy was probably one of the drunkest ones in the room and didn’t realize how low your timer had gotten.

“Awwww,” Soonyoung whined before he quickly finished off his drink.

You and Hansol stared at each other, you with childlike disappointment, and him with a lopsided smile as he looked back at you.

“It was still a good duet,” he chuckled with a shrug.

“They cut us off when it was getting good,” you huffed.

“We need to get you home anyway,” Eunji said as she came up behind you, putting her hands on your shoulders. “You’re farther gone than you think, sweetheart.”

“If I could still navigate the subway, then I’m not drunk enough,” you stated, which you’d made your golden rule after a very weird night-out as trainees -- a night your managers still didn’t know about and didn’t need to know about, “and I promise I could still navigate the subway.”

“Sure, _____,” she gave your right shoulder a pat. “Good thing our managers are picking us up. Let’s go.”

But instead of going with her, letting her lead you by your shoulders, you pulled forward and away from her hands, ungracefully pressing your body to Hansol’s as your arms wrapped around him.

You and Hansol didn’t hug often when you were friends before. Sure, you spent all your free time together and even slept in the same bed sometimes, but you were never ones to just...hug. It happened a few times, but not often. So the fact you were hugging him now for the first time since making up, it took him by surprise. It almost knocked the wind out of him as he stood there, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape before he registered to hug you back.

Thankfully, he was too taken off guard to notice the look Eunji made as she rolled her eyes.

“Text me when you get home, ‘kay?” you told him when you pulled back.

He nodded numbly, “Y-yeah. You too.”

You smiled at him, “See ya.”

And then you followed the rest of your group out, some of which had stopped by the door and watched your interaction. When you were far enough down the hall, they started scolding you for clearly falling for him again while you began your typical drunken excuses.

Meanwhile, Seventeen stayed behind and got their jackets and belongings together before the workers came in to clean up. Hansol walked over to one of the couches where he’d shrugged off his denim jacket, and Joshua came up to him, a smirk on his face.

“Really?” he asked with a chuckle. “’Still the One’? Be a little less obvious next time, dude.”

“Or at least less cheesy,” Jeonghan added on, making a face. “Those subtitles? I thought I was going to vomit.”

Yeah, the song choice might’ve been kind of cringe all things considered. But it put the biggest smile on your face, and to him, that was all that mattered.

Which was arguably more cheesy than the song choice.

── « ⋅ʚ ♫ ɞ⋅ » ───

tag list (italics are unable to tag): @anissanightyoung​ @aceofvernons​ @mythicalamphitrite​ @caratluvie​ @juliettechokilo @liemwantstosleep​ @rubyreduji​ @ohchangyu​ @mingyublues​ @kamalymaly @ru-lin​ [if you’d like to be added to the tag list, please fill out this form!!!]

perma tag list (italics are unable to tag): ​@minluvly​ @honeyylin​ @miki-chi​ @heemingyu​ @noraehey​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @floweryjessy​ @woozarts​ @anothershorthuman​ @shuabby1994​ @vernxnsfool​ @ti--red​ @etaerealboy​ @plants-w0rld​ @futuristiccomputerkitten-blog​ @thepencilkorner​ @shmooooo​ @dejavernon​ @slut-for-dabi​ @pussymode @iamxelia​ @itbtoblikethatsometimes​ @wonderfulshinee​ @aikisbbq @ohmykwonsoonyoung​ @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan​ @merapehlapyaaradhoorarahgaya​