gossip nail

You know what my favourite thing is? If you don’t already, you’re about to find out! Harry Styles with nail polish on his fingers. Especially the red that shows up on his index fingers from time to time. Like he painted his whole hand but they told him he couldn’t go out with it on so he removed most of it but left two fingers as an open act of defiance. That’s my favourite thing in the whole world. So here’s a masterpost of times Harry Styles wore nail polish.

A concept: Yolanda discovering that it is Dizzee who keeps stealing her nail polish, attempts to confront him only to find that he keeps messing up on his right hand and feeling obligated to help out, ended up doing each other’s nails and gossiping, this becomes a weekly every other day or once two times in a day because
‘I’m bored of this colour’ ’
'you’ve had it on for two hours’
'time isn’t real Yolanda’

anonymous asked:

Maybe some headcanons for the Gaster as a best friend/Queer platonic relationship since since platonic love is always nice

Undertale

- He still shows affection physically, lots of hugs and cuddling so long as you’re cool with it
- He’s the kind of friend who would come over at 3am because you texted him and said you were sad/needed someone to talk to
- Or struggle though any sort of shitty weather to come take care of you when you’re sick
- He can teleport but he’s a forgetful bean sometimes
- Hangouts would be chill, he’s cool with doing whatever
- Honestly he’s just grateful to have company
- He’s such a mom friend, always carrying things you might need
- You have an inhaler or epipen? He’ll keep a spare in his coat pocket
- He knows your favorite kind of candy and snacks, always has some at his house
- You can talk to him about anything and he’ll never judge you for it, he’s just there with hugs or reassurance or whatever you need
- He’d probably be really nervous when you first meet because he’s so used to humans being afraid or disgusted by him
- Even if you’re friends for years he’ll have that lingering fear that you’re going to start hating him someday
- So he can get kind of clingy and overbearing
- But once someone has shown him kindness he loves them forever, no matter how they feel about him in return
- Plz don’t take advantage of this ok thank

Underfell

- He’s not the kind of guy who makes friends, but he has ‘allies’
- Which is a code word for friends but he’s too much of an angsty weenie to admit it
- He’d prefer to hang out in places where he feels safe, which is limited to his lab and maybe your place after he decides you’re not a threat
- You guys could read, do science experiments, or (his personal favorite) drink wine and talk shit about other people
- He’d also be down for some anime marathons but you’d have to propose the idea, and he’d pretend to hate it the entire time
- Pro tip: the more he criticizes a show, the more he’s actually enjoying it
- Honestly the best way to be his friend is to just accept him as he is, have thick enough skin to put up with constant sarcasm, and be patient
- Over time he’ll trust you enough to let his defenses down so you can see past the edgy asshole shell and find that there is an even edgier asshole within
- No but really, he’s a good listener and gives solid advice
- Once he cares about you he may even open up about some of his own problems, in an indirect and vague way
- He has no idea how lonely he is
- Friendship won’t change what he is or remove the LOVE from his soul but it may teach him some empathy

Underswap

- Ok I’m sorry but he’s still a creepy stalker weirdo
- Albeit a lovable one
- He peeks through your bedroom window in the dead of night just to make sure you’re safe
- Or shows up at your school/place of work like ‘hello friend, just checking in, by the way I love you and you are my light’ like gaster plz
- Your peers are confused, they might think he’s cosplaying or something bc he’s wearing this bigass black robe and looming in the corner like a ghost
- He’s a sad old hermit with outdated ideals of what’s socially acceptable, cut him some slack
- Poor guy is just so happy to have a friend, it doesn’t happen often
- He goes out of his way to protect you and make sure you’re doing alright
- If you can teach him how to use a phone (not impossible, yet a very challenging task) he’ll text you often
- It’s either all in caps or has no spaces
- Technology baffles him
- Normally he asks how you’re feeling, how things are going, etc.
- He loves hearing about your day
- You could describe what you had for breakfast and he’d still be honored that you’re sharing a part of your life with him
- Probably calls you ‘young one’ or ‘dear’ in a fatherly way
- The Grandpa Friend™

Outertale

- Did someone say shopping sprees
- No? Ok well this is mostly what you do together
- As well as hanging around his mansion, painting each other’s nails, gossiping, laughing at awful movies, doing each other’s hair (he wears wigs sometimes), having pillow fights, watching YTPs, sharing memes
- It’s like high school all over again except you’re one of the cool kids this time
- You may become a minor celebrity simply by being associated with him
- More so in monster culture than with humans, though I’m sure he develops a fanbase on earth
- He will immediately, no hesitation, pay off any student debt you might have
- Or buy you expensive gadgets if you can’t afford them yourself
- Heck, even if you can afford them he’s doing it anyway
- To most people he seems vapid and self centered (which he definitely is, make no mistake) but that’s not all he is
- He’s very loving and just wants to make his friends happy
- While also being told that he’s beautiful and perfect
- Don’t worry, he’ll return the favor

Mertale

- It’s like having a particularly intelligent dog
- He loves it when you swim with him or toss pool floaties for a game of fetch
- Still loves to be pet
- Still rests his head on your lap and takes naps there
- And he’s still a temperamental little shit, on occasion
- But that’s why we love him, isn’t it?
- He likes it when you teach him about the ways of humans
- You might get a few tidbits about his own culture in return, but he doesn’t like to talk about his past too much
- It still hurts that he can never go back
- He’s been exiled, though he never tells you why
- You’re the only friend he’s got
- He never knows what to do with himself while you’re away besides swimming around and hunting fish
- Which is only entertaining for like, an hour
- He also enjoys scaring the shit out of beachgoers and screeching at seagulls
- A fish of simple pleasures
- Whenever he sees you coming to visit him he gets all excited and swims in circles to let out the energy before surfacing
- It’s like a little happy dance

Pretty Boy Morty 1/2

Allow me to introduce you to my own made up 100% USDA Organic Morty: Pretty Boy Morty

Like with all Morty’s it begins with a Rick. In the finite curve, he’s an average Rick, no more evil or good, not excessively brilliant or stupid in comparison. His Morty, however, is nothing like what he should be. Rick meets him for the first time after things go terribly wrong. He’s been avoiding meeting his own Morty for years. He knows what they look like and how they act and, frankly, he’s not really all that interested in the idea of lugging around a whiny brat.

But during a mission to exchange some illegal weaponry with a buyer, he slips up and gets in trouble. The heat’s coming down hard. And he could just slide into a new universe but, unfortunately for Rick, he’s actually kinda attached to the one he’s in. So with no other options, he does what every Rick eventually does. He goes to visit Beth. He figures he’ll stay there a week tops, avoid Morty as much as possible, and go on with his life.

But when he gets to Earth things don’t go as planned. Namely, because his Morty is not what he should be, and suddenly the average life of an average Rick is completely thrown off track.

Morty’s are supposed to be unpopular, whiny, idiots but this Morty… is an outlier. He’s got long eyelashes, bouncy hair he grows just a little longer than his copies and he has it styled to perfection. He takes care of his appearance, wears lip gloss, tight jeans, button up shirts, even jewelry. He’s the student council president, popular with the girls [and the guys]. Not even the football team at his school will dare lay a finger on him because he’s helped them with their studies [and he may or may not have blackmail material on the others].

The fact is that Rick’s Morty is a pretty boy. He’s got a perfect life and, frankly, he’s got the personality to match. He’s spoiled, selfish, and cocky, so when Rick shows up, Pretty Boy Morty he doesn’t give a damn about him.

Rick soon realizes the key feature that’s morphed his Morty this way is Beth. She finished school to be a doctor even through her pregnancies and then divorced Jerry not long after Morty was born. The constant competition between Beth and Jerry to be there children’s favorite led to Morty getting whatever. He learned quickly that all that really matters to people is appearances so he’s spent his life molding his appearance into one of perfection and beauty.

Pretty Boy Morty is constantly fixing his lip gloss, refusing to get out of the ship until his eyebrows are on fleek. He takes forever to apply and reapply lipstick when it gets fucked up. He refusing to be out at night because he needs his beauty sleep. He dressing scantily for adventures and draws all the wrong kind of attention, just for the fun of it, because at school he’s always prim and proper and it boring beyond belief.

And it doesn’t stop there. Pretty Boy Morty lectures Rick angrily at 4 am when he walks into his room, drunk, and wakes him up. Morty being a little brat and refusing to go on a mission because, “My homework isn’t done yet, Rick, and I won’t have my grade drop because of you.“ This leads to Rick doing the homework for Morty while the pretty little shit paints his nails. and Rick doesn’t even realize it until after he’s done all Morty’s equation work.

Because you can bet that Pretty Boy Morty is the single most manipulative little shit that Rick has ever encountered in his life. He knows he has to be, he knows that no one really cares about him that they only really care about the pouty lips and cute eyes he can flash them. They only care that he has the perfect grades, the perfect resume, and Morty knows that. Morty knows how to get exactly what he wants. He knows what to say, how to dress, what look to give, and it drives Rick absolutely insane.

And you can bet that Miami Morty and Pretty Boy Morty are best friends. You can’t convince me otherwise.

Just imagine: Pretty Boy Morty looking at Rick with scathing disgust when Rick wants to go get laid and suggests that he stay at the Morty Daycare for a few hours. Morty obviously fights tooth and nail, stating he’s not a child and he can’t just be brought to the dog hotel like some prized poodle while Rick goes off to let some alien fuck him.

But when he gets there and meets Miami Morty he figures he can stay a little while.

And they are most definitely the Mean Girls of the Daycare. They seem to sit above the rest, painting each other’s nail and gossiping, exchanging secrets on how they keep their hair bouncy and soft despite the hair gel and dye necessary to keep it in perfect style. And you know they talk shit about their Rick’s, and, honestly, PB Morty is slightly relieved to hear he’s not the only one who has to deal with leering glances from his own grandpa.

By the time their Ricks finally come to pick them up, the two are practically best friends, telling the Ricks to shut up as they got right back to talking. Just picture it. Pretty Boy and Miami exchange dimension numbers and like, when PB needs to be dropped off for a while, he demands to go to Miami’s house or back to their own house. No exceptions. To which Rick eventually concedes because he doesn’t want to deal with a pissy Morty and, either way, he’s getting what he wants by dropping the boy off, regardless of where he’s at.

Just imagine PB and Miami all holed up in Miami’s extravagant bedroom, giggling and laughing and gossiping and, after a while, Miami leans in and asks Morty if he’s fucked his Rick yet. And PB rears back. He definitely wasn’t expecting that and he’s grossed out and disgusted and like "Wtf no, why would you even ask that.” And Miami just blinks at him, all confused and tells Morty that he thought Rick was PB’s Sugar Daddy and that’s why he was so spoiled and so different from the other Morty’s.

Miami confiding in PB and admitting that Miami Rick is his Sugar Daddy and, standing up and pulling his shirt up in the back, showing PB the tramp stamp tattoo of Rick’s name and dimension number on his back.

And even though PB wants to be disgusted, and kind of is, he’s also intrigued.

PB Morty asking Miami what it’s like and Miami happily telling him that Rick’s are SKILLED in bed. Really skilled. You kind of have to be to fuck your way through all of space-time. Miami explaining how it happened and what it’s like. PB Morty admitting he’s still a virgin because looks are everything and the moment you start sleeping around rumors fly and he has devoted too much time to making his reputation untouchable and he can’t risk it not for anything, or anyone. and if he’s honest, he’s a little scared of sex he’s scared of what people will say. Miami assuring Pretty Boy Morty that people will talk anyway. PB actually opening up to someone for once. They’d be such tight knit friends after that.

I mean, they exchanged secrets and, no matter how prissy and uppity, they’re still Morty’s so they bond fairly quickly.

After a few months go by, PB tries to convince himself that he’s interested in the whole “fucking Rick” thing as a concept, like people who read sex stories about incest but have no interest in fucking their own fathers. Nothing more.

But.. as time goes on, he starts discovering that’s a lie. Because he’s slipping. He’s letting Rick get away with shit. He goes out later than he normally would just to spend time with Rick. He misses the occasional throwaway assignment and just flutters his eyelashes and gets full points because the teachers know he’s brilliant anyway. Morty can’t stop looking at Rick now. Whenever the older man isn’t looking, Morty is subtly glancing at him and wondering what it’d be like to fuck him. But, even after PB Morty finally comes to terms with wanting to fuck his own grandpa, he has a feeling that it won’t be that simple. He has a feeling Rick won’t immediately hop into bed with him if he asks and so, not willing to risk fucking up in any way, he goes to Miami for advice on how to seduce his grandpa.

Miami telling PB Morty that it’s basically a universal consistency for Rick’s to fuck their Morty’s so it shouldn’t be too hard. And PB Morty being partially relieved and horrified to hear that Ricks are universally perverted old men. Miami telling Pretty Boy what his own Rick likes, telling PB to maybe ditch the prim and proper Pretty Boy school clothes for something a little easier to tear off. When that doesn’t work Miami tell’s him to try getting unwanted attention from some aliens.

But imagine when none of that works. PB has dressed scantily, he’s subtly flirted, he’s danced and giggled with other aliens, he’s flirted with Miami in front of Rick, Hell, he’s flirted with a few Ricks that they’ve met at the Citadel but, literally, nothing is working. And, of course, Pretty Boy Morty feels kinda hurt. He knows he’s sexy but suddenly he doesn’t feel sexy enough for Rick and, before now, he didn’t realize that mattered to him.

But, apparently, it does.

Imagine PB becoming withdrawn, out of ideas, struggling to deal with his own desires, frustrated by his inability to get the idea out of his head and, in his anger and confusion, he even starts pushing Miami away. He blames Miami for making him feel that way about Rick. He never had those types of thoughts about Rick before Miami came into his life. He never even entertained the notion. Ever. And now it’s in his brain like a parasite that won’t go away.

He slowly dresses less and less sexy until he’s literally going to school in the t-shirt and jeans he wore the day before. He ignores Miami’s calls and texts. He goes with Rick without complaint, no matter what time of day it is. He barely gets through his homework. he doesn’t wear makeup, his roots start to show and de doesn’t re-dye them. He doesn’t style his hair.

He doesn’t do anything other than try and figure out how to stop wanting to fuck Rick…

[My lovely @the-clairvoyant-rick will be posting the other half of this on her own blog so make sure you follow her and stalk her and love her.]

Perfectly Flawed - Lydia Martin

word count: 2317
warnings: swearing
requested! (but I changed it around a lil bit)


Originally posted by softly-evak

“I was thinking it’d be a” I said, looking over my homework sheet.  Lydia glanced down at my paper and grinned.

“Yep” She said, popping the ‘p’.  I grinned as I circled that answer and went on to the next one.

It was Tuesday, and Tuesdays’ were the days Lydia and I got together at her place to do homework, paint our nails, and gossip.  Well, gossip sounds bad it was really just talking.  This had been a tradition we’ve successfully held every Tuesday for the past three months, and we were both pretty proud of that.

Lydia and I became friends last year when we were juniors.  Being Scott’s twin sister I was sort of a part of the pack, a designated human you might say.  Stiles would’ve high fived me for that.  But I knew all about werewolves and banshees and kitsunes and coyotes, to be honest we were like the misfit toys.  But I guess we owned it.

I always sorta had a crush on Lydia, I mean, who didn’t? She was absolutely perfect in every way.  She was a genius, she was funny, talented, kind, beautiful… the list went on and on.

But, with this perfection of hers, she had anyone to choose from.  Anyone she could date if she wanted.  And I, was definitely not on her list of crushes like she oh so ruled over mine.  In fact, she was my only crush.

Not me though, Lydia Martin could never like a girl like me.  No, I wasn’t as smart as she was, I wasn’t as petite as she was, I wasn’t as funny as she was.  I simply wasn’t as perfect, or anywhere near as perfect, as Lydia Martin.

“So, what color polish do you want tonight?” She asked, standing up from her spot at the table.  “I think I’m gonna get red for myself”

“Let’s go black” I said.  She shook her head with a small laugh and walked off towards the stairs.

“Same old y/n” She sighed, making me laugh as she disappeared.

Same old, plain, untalented, y/n, I thought to myself.

When she came back, she was smiling wide at me and plopped her box of manicure supplies down on the table in front of me.  Bottles of paint, polish remover, and lotions sticking out of it.  As well as nail clippers, filers, cotton balls, and tools that looked like torture devices.  Lydia seemed to have seen my look of fear cause she giggled that beautiful little laugh.

“No worries y/n, just the paint as always” She promised, shaking my bottle of noir polish.

“Thanks” I said sheepishly and she nodded, opening it up and grabbing my hand.

“So uh… the dance next week” My heart nearly fell out of my chest.  But somehow I managed to keep myself calm as she began to paint my nails.  I just looked at her, silently prompting her to continue whatever it was she wanted to say about it.  “Maybe we could go shopping for it together? Or not- we don’t have to-”

“No that sounds like fun!” I said quickly, and Lydia smiled nervously, I think.  I probably freaked her out.  “M-maybe Wednesday after school or something?”  big smile pulled on Lydia’s lips as she nodded.

“Yeah-yeah “ Lydia said, focusing back on my black nails.

(lydia’s pov)

I walked into school this morning, excited as today was the day y/n and I had decided to go dress shopping.  I was thrilled, absolutely thrilled.  I could just sing as I walked through the halls.

“Lydia Martin, are you skipping?” I was asked when I arrived at Scott’s locker, where we meet every morning before classes.

“Yes Scott, I may be a little happy for once” Stiles walked up to us.

“Is there a sale at Macy’s?” He asked with a snicker.  I rolled my eyes.

“I’m more than shopping and shoes, Stilinski” I told him.

“Alright then, what else do you have to be happy about?” He asked.

“Mom out of town?” Scott asked.

“Cheap makeup?”

“Quality makeup?”

“Hot date for the dance?”

“Prada had a new puppy friend?”

“Aced another test?”

“Any colleges accept-”

“Hey guys!” Scott and Stiles were cut from their ramblings as y/n bounced up to the group.  “What’re we talking about?”

“I was actually just saying that you and I were going dress shopping tonight” I said, and her face lit up.

“Yeah! I’m super excited for that” y/n said, grinning wide.  God I loved when she did that, her eyes always seemed to twinkle.

“You guys wanna ride there? You know I got a sweet one” Stiles said, wiggling his eyebrows at us.

“You got a new car?” y/n asked, raising a confused brow.

“No I’m talking about Roscoe duh- hey!” I giggled as y/n smirked a little to herself.  “I don’t get why you guys are so mean to me” Stiles began muttering.  “I mean seriously all I do is help and-”

“Hey y/n!” I turned to the girl whose name had been called, to see Erica Reyes standing there.

“H-hi- hi Erica” y/n replied, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Can I.. can I talk to you for a sec?” The blonde asked.  y/n nodded, giving a small ‘mhm’ and followed off with her.  As soon as they were gone, I scoffed.

“Really? Erica Reyes? What could they possibly have to talk about?” I asked, crossing my arms.  I saw Scott tilt his head, listening to their conversation.  I glared down the blonde, just as Kira bounced up to us.

“Hey guys!” She said cheerfully.  “What’re we up to?”

“Hush” Stiles scolded.  “Scott’s listening in on Lydia’s girlfriend over there” Stiles said.  I glared at him, but Kira giggled.

“Oh I see, get jealous of Erica did you?” Kia winked at me.  She winked, she had the nerve-

“No I am not jealous, and y/n is not my girlfriend” I stated firmly, my arms uncrossing and putting my hands on my hips.

“How defensive..” Stiles muttered.  “So what’re they talking about over there? Anything we should be worried about?”

“See, you don’t like her either.  Do you have a big fat crush on y/n?” I asked with a sneer towards Stiles.  “See? Who care-”

“She asked y/n to the dance” Scott said.

“SHE DID WHAT?”


y/n and I were walking through Macy’s, going through rack after rack of hangers.  She’d been talking animatedly about how excited she was to be going to the dance with somebody.  I was listening, I was, but I barely responded.  Just let her go off as we looked over various dresses.

“Hey, hey Lydia” She called, and I looked up.  She was two racks away, and holding up a gorgeous y/f/c dress.  I thought about her wearing it and my knees almost buckled.  “What about this one? I have the perfect shoes and everything” Her eyes lit up with excitement and I nodded with a hum.

“Yeah y/n it’s… it’s beautiful” She smiled big and hung it carefully over her arm.

I went back to scraping through the racks, but didn’t really pay attention to anything I skimmed over.  All I could think about was the fact that y/n was going to the dance… with someone else…

Jealous? Never heard of her.

The ride to drop y/n back off home was again, mostly filled with her going on about the dance.  Although this time I was barely listening.  I couldn’t, it hurt too much.  THis was my best friend, this was the girl I was in love with, and she was hooked on being with someone else.  Maybe Stiles was right, maybe all of them were right… but she’s too perfect.  It was ridiculous for me to think of being with her.  Besides, I used to be such a bitch, such a bitch, why would she ever want to date me? I looked over at her in the passenger seat next to me as she talked on.

“…I mean I’ve just never been asked out before…” She went on.

She was beautiful, so fucking beautiful it was insane she even hung around us.

“Sure, I bet this is nothing to you you get asked out all the time- I mean look at you- but… but me! I just can’t believe someone would want to ask me out!” I slammed on the breaks, just outside of her house.  “L-Lyd!? Are you okay?” I looked over, seeing her grip onto the handle of the door.

“Am I okay? No I am not okay!” Her eyes widened as I yelled a little.  “y/n how could you say something like that? ANyone would be lucky to go out with you! You’re absolutely perfect!” She blinked.

“Lydia I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“No- no get out just- just get out” I shook my head, looking down at my hands gripping the steering wheel.

“Lydia I-”

“y/n, go home” She stared at me for a moment, but I heard her unbuckle her seatbelt and open the door.

“I’m sorry Lydia” y/n said softly, then closed the door, and walked up to her door.

Now, I hate crying, it makes you weak and ruins your makeup.  But today I almost couldn’t drive home because I was crying to hard.

Who knew being in love hurt this much.

(your pov)

I didn’t think being in love hurt this much.

I was standing in the corner of the gym, the whole room lit up and blasting with music.  Bodies were.. Well everywhere.  Dancing, talking, sweating.  The more I thought about it, the more claustrophobic I felt.  I looked around, seeing my friends all together.  Stiles trying to get Scott to dance with him, Kira teaching Malia how to dance, Liam… doing god knows what.


And there was Lydia.

She looked breathtaking… the green dress she wore hugged her curves in all the right places.  The neckline dove down enough for me to blush.  But she wasn’t really dancing with the others, just awkwardly swaying back and forth.  I frowned, and wanted nothing more than to go over there and dance with her, maybe make her happy.  But she’d made it pretty clear that she wanted nothing to do with me.

“Hey y/n I’m back” Erica walked up to me, handing me a plastic cup of punch.  “And uh.. I smell checked the bowl.  It’s not spiked” She laughed, and I chuckled quietly and nervously.

“Thanks” I said quietly, taking a drink and casting a glance towards Lydia.  Erica stepped over closer, following my line of sight.

“O-oh… Lydia… I’m sorry are you guys..?”

“Dating?” She nodded, and I shook my head.  “No… no she wants nothing to do with me” Erica frowned.

“Pretty sure she wants everything to do with you” I raised my brow in silent question.  “I mean, when I asked you to the dance, she sorta had Scott listen in, and seemed pretty upset when you said yes” My brows raised, and I looked at her quickly.

“R-really? She did? Was she mad? Sad? Disappointed?” Erica laughed quietly, wrapping an arm around herself and rubbing her arm.

“You uhm… you really like her don’t you?” I gave her a guilty look, feeling bad that I couldn’t really help my feelings towards the strawberry blonde.  “No no, it’s okay” Erica said, giving me a small smile.  I returned it.  “Well, go on, go get your girl” I grinned, and turned, walking myself straight over to Lydia.  When her eyes caught mine, she smiled for a moment, but it quickly fell.

“y-y/n” Her voice was quiet, I’d never heard it so unsure before.  It was like she lcked all of her confidence.  “Shouldn’t you be with Erica?”

“No” I shook my head.  “No I don’t want to be here with Erica, I want to be here with you” I said.  Her eyes widened.

“Really? Y-you do?” Lydia asked, almost like she didn’t believe it.  But I nodded my head, trying desperately to keep up my confidence before it all went away.  “You… you like me?” My brows furrowed.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’ve had a crush on you for as long as I could remember” Lydia shook her head exasperatedly and groaned.  My heart sank slightly.  “Look I know it’s pathetic and you’re you and I’m only me but seriously I mean it-”

“God would you just stop talking” Lydia groaned.  I opened my mouth to protest, but she grabbed my chin in her hand and yanked my lips against her.

I swear the world slowed down and my heart exploded.

She was so warm, and her lips were so soft, and she tasted like.. Like cherries.. And root beer.  Maybe a mix of chapstick and lip gloss I don’t know but it was heaven.

“Not fair.  I liked you first” She said when we pulled away.

“You definitely didn’t-”

“Yes.  I.  Did” She said firmly, pulling away slightly.

“Did not” I grumbled, and pulled her back in for another kiss.

“You sorta suck-”

“Lyds shut your mouth” She giggled, wrapping her arms around my neck while mine went around her waist.

“All our friends are staring at us” SHe whispered, and I laughed a little.  “Welp, Kira just started clapp- Stiles took a picture” I laughed more and kissed her nose quickly.

“Yeah well it took you long enough to show an interest” Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Seriously, in our moment, you’re gonna hold that against me?” I nodded with a grin.

“Wouldn’t want you thinking I’m an easy catch” I said with a wink, walking towards the beverage table.  “Gotta make it interesting, right?” I winked over my shoulder and she groaned, following after me.  But I heard her muttering.

“God you’re lucky I love you” 


to the anon who requested, i hope you liked it! 

xoxo ~ jordie

Coming Out

Chloe nervously checked her phone again, Michael had been trying to give her a pep talk before she made her big reveal to her best friend.

Brooke had been her friend since fifth grade when she transferred to the same school as Chloe. They instantly hit it off gossiping, doing their nails, and going out to Pinkberry together.

Chloe smiled fondly as she watched Brooke exit the school building. She took a steadying breath, preparing herself for her little “coming out” speech she had Michael help her write. Since freshman year she had always noticed how she seemed attracted to guys and girls, but her family had always drilled in homophobic opinions day after day.

Brooke came walking up to her, she looked nervous and her yellow jacket was threatening to completely fall off of her left arm.

“Look, I have something really important to tell you” both girls said at once. They looked at each other stunned and Brooke had to hide her slight laughter.

“It’s ok, you go first, Chloe” Brooke reached up and started to twirl her hair in his fingers, something Chloe knew she did when she was extremely worried.

“Are you sure, you seem like your news is life breaking” Chloe gently reached up to take Brooke’s hand out of her hair; it earned her a small smile in return.

“Well if you insist…" she took a deep breath, “IThinkIMightBePansexual” Chloe furrowed her brows together, she hadn’t understood a word out of that.

“Brooke, my sunshine, I couldn’t understand any of that” Brooke brought her hands up to her face and mumbled a small ‘sorry’ before she spoke again.

“I think I might be pansexual…”

Chloe looked at her stunned for a moment. Brooke peeked up from her hands and looked at her friend. “I’m sorry if this, like, ruins our friendship or anything. I’m sorry I just-” before she could finish her rambling Chloe placed a hand over her mouth. 

 “I’m bisexual” 

Brooke had a look of confusion on her face, then understanding, then what looked like joy? Chloe wasn’t sure, and she was slightly worried that she broke her best friend. Brooke held her arms out for a hug and Chloe accepted, embracing her friend for a solid three minutes before they separated from each other. 

 Chloe smiled, “Want to go get some frozen yogurt to celebrate our coming out?” 

Brooke giggled and nodded. “You know me so well.”

Random (and some nsfw) Junkrat headcanons that are somehow extremely common and agreed on but not widely shared:

- Junkrat love slumber parties and loves gossiping over nail painting or gair braiding

- Junkrat paints ppl on his bombs and even gives them as actual gifts

- He’s either got problems listening or has bad hearing

- He’s got a damn great booty

- fucking clueless about everything but still really smart

- has tiny balls or one missing (or none, lol whatever u think is in his pants, man. If not, smol tiddies)

- fucking ace at blowies

- will die for roadhog and just wants him to be happy

nobts  asked:

PLZ WRITE IT OMG

learning curve
rate m for maybe what if’s
word count: 3,852
for hoseokjung cause i promised her namjoon smut and ofc aegyoh for inspiring/screaming with me about prof!namjoon sorry its literally MONTHS late D: i hope you guys enjoy it anyway :) 

Junior Seminar: The Philosophy of Being. Mondays and Wednesdays, 4:30PM to 6:30PM. Professor Kim, Namjoon (open to all).

Rate My Teacher Dot Com says in a bit more than 27 reviews–total eyecandy but actually a pretty hard grader; def knows what he’s talking about, if only i could pay attention cuz i’m too busy staring at his PERFECT FACE; dresses like he walked straight out of a vogue spread on goth chic but don’t be fooled by his dimples cause his tests will fuck your ass in a bad way; five out of five ALL across the table ;D–that he’s pretty good with students, pretty good with the subject, and more than just pretty to the eyes.

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