i even got pink paper out

Punk!Person A/Pastel!Person B Prompts

- “I have to introduce you to my friends and you look like a teddy bear compared to our biker gang looking group, oh god.” AU

- “I have to introduce you to my friends and you look like you could murder all of us with your eyeliner and black leather, they will be terrified.” AU

- “You are trying to fit in with me as a super punk kid and honestly you’re trying so hard but jesus does it look bad.” AU

- “You came over to my house and forgot a shirt. Wait, all of my shirts are really bright, pastel shirts and I’m so sorry you have to wear these.” AU

- “Everytime people see us messing around they think you’re bullying me because you look hard af. And now they think those hickeys you gave me are bruises…” AU

- “We have to do a couple’s costume for something and we decide to dress up as each other and you keep getting intimidated by me because I’m not wearing only light colors for once.” AU

- “Even though you look really intimadating you still get picked on and now you’re screaming because I punched your bully directly in the face. Oh great, my favorite pastel pink shirt has blood on it now.” AU

- “I forgot to mention I got a tongue piercing awhile ago and you start screaming while we were making out.” AU

- “We sit next to each other in class and both doodle a crap ton on our papers. Even though you’re super punk you’re doodling little cute hearts and I’m drawing skulls and other dark stuff and everyone is really confused.” AU

anonymous asked:

could you please do 23 and nammin/minjoon?

“Babe, I’m sorry.”

“Suck my ass.”

Originally posted by jicute

Namjoon loves Jimin. No really, he does.

The thing about Jimin though, was that you had to know two important things about him. The first was that he was always fucking up.


You would think fucking up things came with Namjoon’s job description as designated human hurricane since elementary school when he kicked a soccer ball too hard and literally broke their jungle gym. Or that one time he was on the honor roll and high school and was helping out sort out the paper directory of the school population and tipped over the entire stack of two weeks of worth because he tripped over the desk. True story.

But Jimin, his fuck ups were of a different kind.

Like now, for example.

“I can’t believe you got our whole house painted baby pink,” Namjoon whispers, mouth still dropped open from well, the house being the exact shade of a piglet’s bottom.

“Surprise?” Jimin squeaks hopefully, but even he knows he’s really done it this time.

“Jimin, I gave you one job. I told you when we move in together, I’d find the apartment, I’d manage the taxes, I’ll even take out the trash.”

“Right,” Jimin gulps, bottom lip jutting out so that Namjoon knows his boyfriend is already upset but he’s too mad to care.

“All you had to do,” Namjoon continues in a shaky voice that really refuses to stay calm, “is to move our stuff in and decorate. A one time thing. Literally, the only fun thing.”

“Well, I did,” Jimin argues, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “I thought you said on the phone that you wanted pink.”

“No,” Namjoon says with a fake pretense of patience, “I specifically told you, whatever you do, do not paint it some fancy, embarrassing lilac purple or baby pink!” Namjoon says in exasperation, leaning back against his old beat up SUV and staring up at their new house.

Their new house that looked like Disneyland threw up on it.

God, he could never ever ever bring any of his friends over, like, ever again.

Not when he was an underground rapper and his friend’s once laughed at him for a whole month because Jimin had forgotten to do the laundry and he had been forced to wear Jimin’s old Powerpuff Girls’ socks to the studio.

“Whoops,” Jimin says, popping the ‘p’ and looking at Namjoon to guage just what level of begging was going to make him forgive him.

“Damn right. You know we could barely afford painting it the first time,” Namjoon says, sighing, still staring with dismay at their new place with the wary eyes of a man that had seen too much of the world.

Joonie,” Jimin says in a tone that Namjoon knows he reserves for the times he really messes up, like that time they were in the middle of Tokyo for their vacation for the first time in years and Jimin had forgotten to book any hotel reservations.

“No,” Namjoon replies, tone hard but resolve wavering when his eyes flick over to Jimin’s large pretty ones batting themselves at Namjoon.

“Babe, I’m sorry.”

“Suck my ass.”

Namjoon regrets saying this immediately because the second thing to know about Park Jimin was that he was always horny.


“Give me the time and the place baby, I’ll be there,” Jimin smirks and Namjoon shoves him gently, laughing.

“You’re fucking gross, you know that?” he says, rummaging for the keys in his back pocket and fishing them out.

“Hypocrite,” Jimin says, rolling his eyes but latching on to Namjoon’s arm and laughing. “Like you don’t love it.”

“Shut up,” Namjoon says, blushing and turning the lock of their new house. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Pink was an okay color. Sure, it wasn’t what he was picturing but -

Jimin?” Namjoon almost screams, jaw dropping.

Literally everything. Was pink. Even the tablecloth. Namjoon felt his knees go weak.

“Ah, I forgot to tell you just one more tiny thing- ”

otp drabble challenge!

I had severe separation anxiety as a kid, so my mom would sing to me when she was in another room.

by reddit user rainbow_productions

When I was growing up, I was terrified of being alone. I don’t know what started it, or when/if it stopped exactly. I have a dog now, a mutt I got from a shelter- so I’m not technically alone in my apartment even when my roommate is out. Back to the point, though; when I was a kid, being by myself scared me so badly. So, irrationally badly that if I even thought that my mother had left me alone on our property, I would become a gross and sobbing mess until I could set my sights on her again.

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Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: FINAL PART! Later than I wanted tonight, but I was held after again. It’s been a long journey, and thank you all for sticking with me! It means the world. I hope that this does everything else justice! Enjoy!

Previously: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen | Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty | Twenty One | Twenty Two | Twenty Three | Twenty Four | Twenty Five | Twenty Six | Twenty Seven | Twenty Eight | Twenty Nine | Thirty

Originally posted by tvdkatherine

Originally posted by 394-shades-of-a-fangirl

Originally posted by youwerethereforme

Warnings: Some mild smut. Pregnant/Mommy Reader. Birth Scene. Flashback/Memories. Some death. Time Skip. Daddy!Sam. Some fluff mixed in. Real light editing. I believe that is all, and apologize if I missed anything!

Word Count: Roughly 3900

“Daddy?” The soft feminine voice called, making Sam stop at the door. His hand clenched around the frame, knowing what was coming. Sure enough, the question mirrored what she asked every night the past week before bed. “Can you tell me more about mommy?”

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Summary: Credence notices you every morning at the bakery and feels like he understands you better than anyone he’s ever known. He has to offer for you to have breakfast with himself, Jacob, and Queenie.

I combined these two requests:
“ credence x reader who’s also been abused by their parents?? pls” 
“reader always visiting jacobs bakery and watching the gang (including credence obviously) together and being really sad because they are all alone, they’re also enraptured by credence because aside from being the most beautiful boy they have ever seen he has a kindness to him that is just so rare and they think he’s wonderful but they are so sad and alone until one day they aren’t because credence comes over with her favourite pastry and asks her if she would like to join them and idk just happy fluff?”

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse and scars

Word Count: 1,560

You couldn’t help but visit the bakery every day—it was your own kind of self-torture, but still, you went every morning. You remembered the first morning you visited, since you had gotten up early enough to go out and buy breakfast, and walking in and immediately becoming enthralled by the colors and smells in the small bakery. It was so soft and bright and everything smelled so good that you couldn’t help but let it affect you; you were a typically lonely person, with few friends and little social life, mostly of your own choosing, so the sights and smells brightened your demeanor just slightly. You knew it wasn’t good of you, but… You had had a rough life, with abusive parents who had left you scarred and afraid of other people. You just never regained enough confidence from your childhood to feel equal to everyone, so being alone came more naturally. You really didn’t mind, and it was mornings and places like this that gave you a brief reprieve from a life spent mostly lonely. Really, one morning in the bakery would have sufficed for you, though the pastry you purchased was indeed very good, but you kept coming for the tall boy behind the counter.

Truly, he was the most beautiful boy you had ever seen your life, with sharp, refined features and flowing jet black hair and the most deliberately aware eyes you had ever seen, and you couldn’t help but come back every morning even for just one glimpse of him behind the counter or having breakfast with his friends. He was unwaveringly kind to every customer that came in and often knew each of their names, and you were captivated by how his kindness touched even his movements. You could also tell that he was close with the shop owner and all of the owner’s friends because they often were sharing breakfast together, as well as smiles and laughs, and part of you wondered what that was like—to have such close bonds with people and also to be close to someone like that boy.

What you didn’t know was that Credence noticed you too, from the first morning you walked in. You were wearing dark colors, and you hunched your shoulders in much in the same way as he had—before. Your face was drawn in, and your eyes were just…sad. Infinitely sad. Like all they’d ever known was sadness. And it was so reminiscent of that place he had been all those years ago that Credence couldn’t help but notice you from that moment forward.

Credence saw you every morning afterward, always in dark colors and always sad, though perking up slightly once you were fully in the bakery. You ordered the same thing every morning and sat at the same table, alone, every morning too. You observed, mainly, looking around and taking everything in, but often, your eyes would wander to him before skittering away to look out the window definitively, never looking back, before you would get up wordlessly and drift back out into the streets, not to be seen until the following morning.

The routine continued this way for quite some time—furtive, fleeting eye contact over the same bagel order and then your quick exodus. Credence wondered if it would ever change—he would like to see you come in with a smile one morning, to see you finding something worth smiling about. But each morning was the same frown, and he felt deeply for you—felt that he understood you eerily well. Which is when he decided that, if for a month your pattern didn’t change, he would enact his plan and hope for the best.

The month did pass, and nothing at all had changed in your demeanor. You ordered your bagel, moved to your seat, and sat down, all silently. However, today, when you decided it was time to shift your focus from out the window to the boy behind the counter, he was much closer to you and continuing your way with a brown paper bag in one of his hands. He looked shy, a slight pink tinging his cheeks and a small smile on his face, as he stopped directly in front of your table. You couldn’t help the flaming of your cheeks and how you couldn’t meet his eyes, even as he began to speak. “I brought you…a bagel. I see now that you already got one.” His chuckle was slight and barely audible, but it made your heart flutter when you heard it. You simply nodded and glanced quickly up to meet his eyes briefly before returning your gaze to your breakfast in front of you.  “Well… It was a gesture anyway. I was…wondering if you’d like to have breakfast with me and my friends? They’re all really nice, I promise. And…I am too. Nice, I mean.”

At that, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, which Credence smiled at quickly. You looked up at him, this time holding his gaze carefully as you answered. “But… I don’t know you.”

Credence just shrugged. “I’m Credence.” You felt a small smile flit across your face. “See? Now you know me.” You glanced back down as Credence lowered himself to the seat across from you. “Or I could eat here with you, if you didn’t mind? I just hate seeing you alone every morning.”

Your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help but snap your head up to look every morning. “You…notice that? It’s not bad; it’s okay. I would hate to disrupt your morning.”

Credence leaned forward, keeping eye contact with you. “I came over to you, remember?” You blushed deeply but turned your full attention to him as he uncurled his hands on the table in front of him, revealing long-healed scars that hid nothing of their source, raised and slightly more pink than the rest of his skin, and decidedly angry in nature. You couldn’t say anything but felt the scars under your sleeves burn at the sight in front of you, but still, all you could do was blink at him. “I…notice you because…I feel like I get you. You just look…sad. And I recognize it. And I don’t want you to be alone.”

Credence watched gently as you said nothing but moved to roll your sleeves up. He recognized cigarette burns and scattered angry thin lines. “My dad.” Your voice felt more like an exhale. “Sticks. Cigarettes. When I was…bad.” Credence nodded and reached across the table, taking your hand in his tentatively. “I’ve never really…been close to anyone. Since.”

Credence nodded again, gripping your hand more firmly. “I was…the same. These were from my Ma. And I didn’t know how to be close to anybody, until I met my friends that I have now.”

You sent a soft smile toward him and squeezed his hand gently. “I’m glad that you found them then, Credence.”

He smiled back at you before scooting his chair closer. “I’d like to be your friend too. You can have friends like that. You don’t have to be alone, if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t know…how. I don’t know how to be close.”

“I didn’t either. You learn. You grow. Life can be better.”

Your gazes locked then, Credence’s eyes holding a gentle confidence while yours were filled with what he could only identify as hope. “…Really?”

He simply nodded, his face still holding that soft smile. “Do you want to go have that breakfast now?” You wiped away tears that had begun to fall as you nodded, standing next to Credence before making your way to where he normally ate. “You never told me your name, by the way.” His face and his smile were as gentle as ever, just like his general demeanor. That thorough a kindness couldn’t be hidden.

“Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”

“It’s so lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

And you did have breakfast with Credence, and his friends, who you found to be lovely as well. The shop owner, Jacob, was just as kind as you imagined, and his girlfriend, Queenie, was such an understanding soul that you couldn’t quite fathom it. It was a lovely morning you spent there, and it was one you knew you would treasure always. You hoped you would remember it when times got dark again.

You let Credence walk you to the door once you had said goodbye to the others, who had a day of baking to get to, and felt yourself saddened for the first time in a long time to be away from companionship. You had never felt so thoroughly understood and supported, and you felt…reluctant to leave that kind of atmosphere. Just as you were turning to say goodbye to Credence before leaving though, he began to speak. “I was wondering if you’d…like to have breakfast tomorrow morning too?”

The kindness that had saturated the morning overtook you when you heard his gentle offer, and you couldn’t help but turn and give him a brief and awkward hug, which was to be expected since you weren’t much for physical contact before. You treasured the brief moment that his arms wound around you before answering, “Yes, please.”

Credence’s answering smile was radiant, and you couldn’t help but hope you’d have breakfast with him every morning that followed.


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Title: Secret Santa (Reader x Steve Rogers)

Summary: Tony schemes up a plan to set Steve and the reader up with each other for their Secret Santa gifts; leaving them with a Christmas Eve that they will never forget.

Word Count: 1740

Warnings: Fluff!

A/N: Wow this has just taken my heart and RIPPED IT TO SHREDS. I loved writing it so so SO much. Happy day 10, I can hardly believe it! Hope you enjoy!

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sequencefairy  asked:

48 & 44? Ichiruki if you are down for it! ❤️

Prompt 44: I’ve been having a bad day

Pairing: Ichigo/Rukia

Summary: “Next week’s focus is on imagery, and the little girl with Nel-ribbons in her hair turns around in her seat to tell him that his hair looks fake. “Your notebook’s nice though”, she says, “it’s a pretty colour.”

“Thanks”, he says, “I think so too.”

Ichigo stays back after class, writing about blue stars bursting violet-cold and eyes so bright, they freeze you to the bone.”

Post-342 Hurt/Comfort, only there’s no real comfort here.

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For My Jack

I wanted to churn out at least 1 more fic before Christmas. I’m close enough.

           Jack knew better than to be snooping around in Mark’s things, but he was perfectly justified. He’d loaned the slick fucker his favorite sweater four days ago and still hadn’t gotten it back, and he was freezing his ass off.

           Mark was out grocery shopping, probably buying some enormous Christmas ham that would last them for the next two weeks. Jack grinned to himself at the thought of the good old-fashioned Christmas dinner they’d be having tomorrow night. Since neither of them lived anywhere near their respective families, they’d be having a one-on-one couple’s holiday this year, and Jack would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. It’d be their first Christmas together without the pressure of family and friends and holiday-themed obligations—and if there was one thing Jack loved, it was being free from obligations.

           He didn’t see his sweater anywhere on the hangers, but he knew for a fact that it wasn’t in his closet or the coat closet, so this was the last place it could be. Feeling like a creep, he pushed aside Mark’s hanging clothes and started digging through his cubbyholes, where he had shirts and pants folded messily. His fingers brushed against some old keys, crumpled up papers, a few dollar bills (that were tempting to take), a velvety box, some toothpicks…

           Wait, velvety box? Jack reached back further in and pulled out a small, fuzzy box that fit in his palm. It looked like jewelry, but Mark wasn’t a jewelry kind of guy. Curious, Jack opened it up.

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Teen Wolf Imagine #5 - Stiles Stilinski

Request from Anonymous - Hey hey hey! I love your account! I was wondering if you could do an imagine for me? It’s Teen Wolf and it’s StilesxReader where the reader is Derek’s sister.

Request from rosesbabygirl - Can you do a stiles imagine where you have like a huge crush on him but he doesn’t know and you finally tell him and he’s super surprised and it’s super cute and you guys kiss and stuff lol if that makes sense.

Okay, so I decided to combine these two requests because I thought they could blend well. I hope you both like it! Thanks for requesting!

Also, Jesus, I didn’t think I would stop posting for so long and I’m so sorry but I’m back now and I’m really excited to write so yay! And you guys are really, really, really great for continuing to follow me and I have so much appreciation towards you guys for that.

Derek Hale was a moron.

Derek Hale was the biggest moron you’d ever met and you were forced to be his sibling.

“What do you mean I can’t hang out with Stiles and Scott anymore?” You asked, the tone of your voice bordering on a whine.

Derek didn’t even spare a glance, continuing to do push ups on the floor of his apartment. “They’re bad influences.”

“Bad influences? Bad influences?” Your voice rose, your eyes flickering between their normal color and the gold that your family’s werewolf gene had passed down. “You do realize that you dated Jennifer Blake, right? You know, the darach that was killing people?!”

Derek glared at you, a faint growl falling from his lips. “I don’t trust Scott and Stiles.”

You shrugged. “I don’t care if you don’t trust them, I do. So I’ll keep hanging out with them and you can keep working out alone in your apartment. Then we can both be happy,” you smiled at your older brother as he stood up, a hint of snark filling your words.

He shook his head, looking down at you, a permanent frown etched on his face. “Fine, keep seeing them. But when one of them breaks your heart you can’t come crying to me.” He walked away, his heavy footfalls shaking the room.

His last words kept replaying in your mind as you left his apartment, your feet easily beginning the walk to Stiles’ house. You were sure that neither Scott nor Stiles would break your heart, especially because you weren’t dating either of them. Your heart thrummed in your chest, fluttering against your ribs when you thought of dating Stiles. Your feelings towards him weren’t friend zoned by any means, but you were pretty sure that he’d never thought of you that way. He’d been talking about Lydia ever since you met him, after Scott had learned he was a werewolf.

You sighed heavily, looking up at the houses you were passing in the hopes of distracting your mind from the unhappy thoughts.

Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work.

After mulling over your thoughts for a few minutes, you arrived at Stiles’ house, immediately walking up to the door and knocking. A panting Stiles answered the door seconds later, quickly pulling you inside and slamming the door shut behind you. He gripped your hand tightly, tugging you to his room as he talked between heavy breaths, “You’ll never,” deep breath, “believe it. I found,” deep breath, “the most amazing thing,” 

The two of you were alone in his room as he rushed over to his bed. Piles of paper were scattered on top of it and a quick glance revealed all of them to be about werewolves and other supernatural creatures. 

You looked over at Stiles, a light pink blush dusting your cheeks as you looked into his chocolate brown eyes. He quickly looked away, nervously laughing, before his previous excitement returned and he picked up a few of the papers with gleeful enthusiasm and thrust them into your hands.

“So I remembered that you had mentioned a little while ago that you were having problems with your eyes changing color even though your heart rate was normal, so I started researching and I found this website and I guess I got a little caught up with printing things out,” he briefly stopped his rambling to look at the stacks of paper dispersed around his room, “but that’s not the point the point is I think I found some stuff that can help you.”

His eager gaze focused on your eyes, your lips curling into a delighted smile. You laughed lightly as he continued to watch you, motioning to read the papers.

You dropped the papers back on his bed and stepped closer to him, pressing your lips gently against his. Your cheeks were burning bright red, but your sudden burst of confidence kept you pressed against him.

Oily shame burned in the pit of your stomach when his soft lips stayed still against yours. You stepped back, already opening your mouth to apologize to him, until you saw his wide eyed expression and the crimson color of his cheeks. His lips started to move, stuttering for a few seconds before he was able to get real words out. “What just happened?” he asked dazedly. “Did you just …” he trailed off, bringing a hand up to his mouth and softly touching his lips.

“I like you,” you blurted out. Your cheeks were still red and you wanted to stop talking, wanted to run out of the house and away from imminent rejection, but you were a Hale and Hales had courage. “I’ve liked you for a while. You’re really sweet and funny and helpful. But I get it if you don’t like me and I still want to be friends–”

“Wait, I’m sorry, you think I don’t like you? I’ve had the biggest crush on you since forever. Scott told me to try to make you jealous so I kept talking about Lydia and you never reacted any differently so I thought you didn’t like me back. But how could I not like you? You always know how to make me laugh and I love spending time with you. You’re gorgeous, I mean, have you seen yourself? And you always know what to do, especially with the weird supernatural things and oh my god I can’t believe you like me.” Stiles had the biggest smile on his face, his puppy dog eyes lighting up with awe and shock. “Can I kiss you again?”

You grinned back at home, a beam of glee. “Technically I kissed you,” you managed to say and then you were kissing again, his lips moving effortlessly against yours, pure happiness filling the kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips and you pulled away giggling, a comfortable hush enveloping the room.

Stiles broke it the silence.

“Your brother’s gonna kill me.”

Title: Tutoring Session

Characters: Chanyeol/Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,465


      There was a rumor going around that Byun Baekhyun- the most popular guy at school- had gotten his turn with tutoring lessons from a girl in his class. Everyone knew about her, since she was the smartest girl in school. Honestly, you would pay her all the money in the world to get a lesson, but she was only taking in students from her own class, which you weren’t in. You sigh miserably and lay your head on the desk, twirling your pencil on your notes.

      You weren’t excelling at anything in school except for dance class, and they were threatening to kick anyone out who couldn’t pass finals. You knew you had little hope to do even that. These were your thoughts for the past week, which would have stayed the same until something unexpected happened today. The nice guy- who sat next to you- stands on top of his chair, immediately gaining everyone’s attention. He smiles.

      “Everyone! My name is Chanyeol.” Everyone knew who he was- literally the most handsome guy in your grade. “We all know about the girl in the next class over, yes?” He asks, your class nods in unison. “Well, today I will be giving tutoring lessons also, but for half the price.” Your jaw drops. Why hadn’t you thought of this before? He was, in fact, smarter than she was. His test grades could prove it. You could have asked him before he brought it to everyone’s attention. Now, you had a 1/32 chance of getting it.

      “I’ll use the same method she does for the drawing, please separate into two groups, boys and girls, and then draw from these boxes.” He places two tissue boxes on his desk, which were full of folded pieces of paper either saying “yes” or “no”. You guessed everyone needed help as much as you did, because there was no questions asked, just the loud shouts of kids who wanted to be first in line to draw. You managed to squeeze your way into the front of the line and shove your hand in the box before anyone else could, then pull out your slip of paper.

      “I got it!” You say aloud, making the girls moan in disappointment. You look up at your soon-to-be tutor, who’s expression you couldn’t read. All you could see was the slight pink on his ear tips.

      “Come on, _____, let’s make this quick.” The boy who got the “yes” walks to the center of the room and you stand in front of him. You were lucky enough to get the “yes”, you were hoping you would be even luckier to win the flip. Chanyeol supplies the nickel and flips it after you call tails.

      “Tails..” Chanyeol says, is that shock you hear in his voice? “_____ wins this round, we’ll do it again tomorrow.” He walks to his desk and collects his things before turning to you. “Are you ready?” You hastily pick up your books and bag.

      “Yes!” You were so lucky. The standardized test gods must be smiling upon you today. You thank him as you walk out of the school and try to make small talk. “How long have you been thinking about doing this?” He looks at you like he was surprised you were even interested in his existence.

      “Just today, actually.” He admits and you laugh.

      “Do your parents know about it?”

      “Yeah, my mom is really supportive.” You find yourself asking him a variety of questions, interested in his life out of his studies. You found out he really likes playing instruments, and that he has a passion for writing music. “Here we are.” He says as you step onto the front lawn of home. It was beautiful, even though it’s size was significantly smaller than the monstrous ones surrounding it.

      When you walk through the door, you follow him around, peeking around every doorway curiously. “So where’s your mom?” You ask him. He walks up a staircase, beckoning you to follow as he replies. “She’s visiting her friend today.” When you enter a room, it dawned on you that you were in HIS room. The clutter of music sheets and CD’s in the corner were unmistakably those of an appreciator of music, and the guitar leaning against the window was a dead giveaway. “Have a seat.” He motions to the bean bags on the floor and you happily oblige. It wasn’t what you were expecting in a tutoring session, but it made it more comfortably and you relax. You realized that you were nervous before- entering his house only be told how bad you were at math and science.

      “I need help with Calculus.” You say, bringing your mind from your thoughts. He nods, taking a seat in the bean bag in front of you and sliding his textbooks out from under his bed. “I don’t understand any of it.” His eyes widen in surprise when he opens up his textbook.

      “None of it?” He repeats. He starts with the basics, patient but strict while showing you which formulas and equations you needed for a certain problem. “Do you know why this is the answer?” He asks you, pointing at a variable. You shake your head and he explains it to you until you get it. You were amazed at his skill to teach and also boggled why you never understood it before. It was so easy, the way he was explaining it. You can’t help but laugh ridiculously when you realize that Chanyeol has taught you everything you need to know for the test in the span of a few hours while your teacher couldn’t even teach you throughout the whole year.

      “You’re a good teacher.” You say after he’s done giving you practice problems. When he doesn’t reply, you glance up at him only to find him pink from head to toe as he takes in your compliment.

      “Thank you,” He says, shifting. You were acutely aware of his arm, which he was using as support as he leans on it behind your back. Because he had moved his bean bag closer to you so he could see what you were struggling with, he leaned over a lot, which caused his thigh to accidentally bump into yours countless times- his chest a ghost on your shoulder as he uses his free hand to point at things. “_____? Did you hear?”

      “Huh?” You blink, not realizing that you weren’t listening and tilt your head up to apologize, but when you do, you stop short as you almost kiss him. You let out in inaudible gasp the same time his eyes widen, your lips parting and your cheeks aflame. “Um,” Your breath fans across his neck and you don’t notice the goosebumps that rise there because he stammers.

      “I said, we’re done with the lesson now.”

      “Oh.” You scoot away awkwardly, closing your textbook and packing your things. Just as awkwardly, he stands up and kicks the bean bag to his bed, where it was originally. “Thank you for the lesson, I think I’ll pass the test now.” You tell him honestly, even though you were blushing because you thinking about something else. You watch as he presses his lips together, his gaze keeping yours.

      Just before you turn to leave he speaks. “Will you come over again?” You nearly fall in shock and gape at him.

      “But I don’t need help on any other subjects..” You reply. You weren’t surprised that he thought you were stupid all around, but you still find yourself taking offense. He immediately shakes it off.

      “No! No, I mean as a friend.” Oh. “I like spending time with you.” You blush a little before smiling.

      “Oh,” You glance at the bean bags on the floor before looking back at him. “Okay.” You wondered if you’d ever only like him as a friend, because today Chanyeol showed you a side of him you’ve never seen, and it was a part of him you were eager to explore. “Is this weekend alright?” He looked happily shocked that you had offered to come over so soon.

      “Yeah, that’s perfect.” He says, and you nearly swoon when he smiles, because the corners of his eyes crinkle and he displays his pearly white teeth. “I’ll see you then.” You start to wave goodbye, when you remember.

      “Ah!” You rummage through your backpack, and he’s confused until you thrust a twenty dollar bill at him. “Twenty for four hours, right?” His big hands fall over yours and he pushes it back.

      “You don’t have to pay me.” He says. When you’re still eager about paying him, he gently pushes his finger to your lips, which caught you by surprise and you stop. “First customer discount.” He says as you blush.


My kitty ears & tail from delicatekittensboutique, THEYRE SO CUTE HOLY CRAP! Also theyre SO soft, like I dont even know how to describe this level of softness. They were packaged super cutely in pink wrapping paper with lil stickers too c: I got them in white & pink, with a medium inner ear fringe and a twenty inch half wired tail (For referance, Im 5'6 and it goes from my waist to the back of my knees, so its a good size). These are amazing quality and if youre looking for any kitty costume stuff, you should totally check out their shop!

~im a minor so if nsfw blogs could stop reblogging this it would be appreciated~

anonymous asked:

yoonmin secret admirer!au :D

wc: 1.7k
summary: jimin has a secret admirer and yoongi has terrible friends but great wingmen. (fluff).

(posting on mobile, will put this under read more later when i get home. warning/s: unbeta’d and typed up on a phone.)

crushes are a very funny thing. sometimes, it’s butterflies in your stomach, other times, it’s a knife in your gut. jimin is standing in an in-between, a crossroads of sorts. it’s not like he has a crush, no, he has a secret admirer - but it feels like a crush, anyway, because his secret admirer has been leaving him various tiny, thoughtful little gifts that they either slip into his locker or set atop his table. it’s been three months now and with each passing day, jimin starts to feel a little bit more in love with the kind stranger (or, well, in crush. whoever it is must be nice and cute, probably, judging by the tiny little things they leave - sometimes coloured pens, other times a few pieces of chocolate, and lately, the past two weeks, his secret admirer has been leaving him more extravagant gifts, not so tiny and little things anymore.)

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Prompt 35.

Prompt 35: Peeta is Prim’s teacher. She is having a hard time with his class and Katniss decides to confront him. [submitted by Anonymous]

Part one.  Rated K. The only warning is that I’m incapable of writing things without curse words.


It’s too quiet when I get home from work.  The television should be flashing, music blaring, teenaged giggles should be filling the room.  But it’s silent.

“Prim?”  There’s no answer to my call, no shuffling of steps, nothing.  Rationally, I know there’s no need to panic.  She’s probably in her room, studying.  Concentrating so hard that she doesn't  hear me.

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Changing Colors - a Kristanna Harvest Fest fic

This is a part of the Harbor AU, and it’s a very belated birthday gift for @minnothebunny <3 I hope you like it!

  • Words: 1255
  • Rated: G
  • Warnings: Excessive cheesiness, total lack of editing
  • Prompt: ‘changing colors’

“Why are you so sure that it’s going to be a girl?” Kristoff asked. He was curled around his wife, one arm cradling her round belly. Anna had been scrolling through lists of baby names on her phone, reading them out—‘Here are some nice classic names—Sara, Laura, Jessica, Sophia, Amelia, Eleanor, Isabelle—’ before he interrupted her between 'Lily’ and ’ Grace’. She had to wallow a bit to roll over so she could face him.

“I just know,” she said. Her hand stroked over the curve of her stomach. “I can just feel it. She’s a girl.”

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kittykatmoo  asked:

The casino NaLu AU (*^*) <3 ಥ_ಥ

fine. You twisted my arm~

He moved through the smoky air, sidestepping the upset losers and the clever folk who knew to leave while they were ahead. He flowed past the machines perceived as ‘lucky’, smiling at the eighty year old lady that toasted her complementary soda at him.

The house always wins. His house always wins.

Natsu strolled through the aisles of slot machines, melding with the flashing lights and the catchy music used to lure more customers in. Every security guard nodded to him, respecting his law and his generous paychecks.

The scent of the free popcorn gave him a slight hunger, but he really had no time for that tonight.

He had somewhere to be…people to meet.

Fairy Tail Casino had been his father’s dream, built from the ground up. Now, it was his responsibility to keep it strong. Natsu was thankful he had many people that felt Fairy Tail was as much of a home as he did.

Erza, his head guard, nodded to him as he emerged from the forest of slots and into the grove of the poker tables. “Natsu. Strange to see you mingling on the game floor.” She commented with a quirk of her brow. “Not as strange as you having the comedy lounge closed for the night, though. Any reason?”

Oh, there was a reason, yes. Erza was not on the ‘need to know’ however.

With a shrug, Natsu smirked and cast his gaze to the bustling poker tables, seeing the roulette tables were just as busy on the far wall. “No reason.” He drawled smoothly, not convincing the red head at all.

“Right…well, until I see you again, sir.” She said with a knowing tone as he directed his travel towards the said lounge. Oh, she knew now.

Huffing and settling for a wave over his head, Natsu walked on through the valley of the card tables, onyx eyes locked on the hallways that lead to the lounges and VIP rooms. 

The carpet was decorated with little neon triangles, vibrant against the red background. It had been here since Igneel opened the casino. Maybe he should have that changed.

The sounds quieted as he entered the hall, the noise of machines, tellers, and winners fading to the rhythmic tempo of his shined shoes. The pounding music of the upstairs dance club could be heard now, but faintly.

Where he was walking, there would be no sound. Not yet.

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anonymous asked:

can you write a fic where Oliver and Felicity are working in the foundry and Oliver notices Felicity has s ridiculous amount of pens and everything at her desk is color coded??

The Organized Rainbow Explosion 

“Felicity?” Oliver asks as he walks into the Foundry, his phone pressed to his ear. 

“Yeah?” She calls from behind the servers she was currently updating. 

“I brought dinner!” He drops the bag of food on the worktable. “And I’ve got Lance on the phone.” 

“Okay! I’m almost done! Just take a message!” 

He flounders around for a piece of paper. Everything seems to still be out of place as they move back into the Foundry. Not that he ever remembered there being a whole lot of pen and paper down here anyway. 

Sensing his dilemma, Felicity pokes her head back out. “There’s post-its and pens in the drawer of my desk. Use the pink post-its!” 

He blinks. He hadn’t even realized her desk had a drawer, but sure enough, there, below the lip, is a large, shallow drawer. He pulls it open and stops, message from Lance forgotten at the sight. 

The front of the drawer is completely organized stacks of colored paper, each with a label as to the purpose (pink is for “Lance Tips”). But what really shocks him is the rest of the drawer. 

There must be a couple hundred pens of all sizes and colors. Some are click-pens while others have caps. They cover every color of the rainbow. There are more pens than she has bottles of nail polish, which is really saying something. And yet…

It makes perfect sense to Oliver. It’s the perfect depiction of Felicity: a riot of color, only partially organized and the rest a beautiful mess of chaotic light. 

“Queen!” Lance shouts, loud enough to yank Oliver back to reality. 

He quickly writes his message - a note about when they have to show up for dinner. They’re transformation from aggressive to almost-friendly is still still strained and awkward, but they’re making it work. 

“So what did Lance want?” Felicity asks, rising on her toes to press a kiss to Oliver’s lips. 

She moves away, but Oliver pulls her back. He pulls her into his chest and kisses her more thoroughly, seconds ticking by as he draws out the moment. Felicity hums contentedly, a sigh escaping as he leans back. 

“What was that for?” Her breathy voice whispers as he rests his forehead against hers. 

“I love you,” he answers. 

Her eyes jerk up to his, eyebrows knitted together. “I love you, too.” 

Her confusion brings a smile to his face. 

“What?” She finally demands. 

He chuckles. “I didn’t know you had a drawer.” 

Felicity blushes. “Oh. Well, I just sort of collect pens. I never expect it to happen but then-” 

Oliver wraps his arms around her, cutting her off mid-sentence, something he discovered he liked doing on their summer away. “Uh-huh. So that’s where all our pens disappear to.” 

She smiles guiltily and reaches up up to wrap her arms around his neck. “Maybe.” 

“It’s cute,” he whispers back. He gives her one last lingering kiss before they move on to dinner. “We should get a drawer like that at home.” 

She grins. “That can be arranged.” She’s just happy that “home” now refers to where they live together. It’s a feeling she’s happily getting used to.

Class Is In Session (Liam Dunbar Week: Days 4 and 6)

A/N: Fun Fact: I actually tutor 7th grade math students, so I definitely took out a little frustration with a couple of them in this. Oopsie. Either way, I really love this. You’ll see my favorite quote, and my favorite feature of his. *cough* eyes *cough* Please leave me feedback or a request if you enjoyed! xxxx

“Dunbar! Get your ass over here!” Coach Finstock yelled from the bleachers.

Liam jogged over, removing his helmet.

“What’s up, Coach?” he asked, slightly nervous.

“You know I don’t make the rules, kid, but school policy states that players have to have at least a 75 in their classes to be on the team. Apparently you have a 68 in Algebra.”

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Child Of The Leaf. Chapter 8.

(In this chapter, Sakura’s personality is based off of the girl in chapter 699, whom I don’t recognize as the real Sakura, but, Kishimoto has canonized. Bear with the story… it will all turn out good in the end!)

Sixteen years ago…

“You’re lucky to have such a wonderful boyfriend, miss.”

A shop owner told Sakura as she was given an entire bag of oranges.

“He said you needed these and told me to give them to you when you walked by.”

Heat radiated from her face as she accepted the bag with a grateful bow of her head. As she looked into the brown paper sack, she saw a piece of paper which she fished out and read.

It was scribbled in Naruto’s messy handwriting.

‘I know you aren’t feeling well, so I got you these to help you feel better. See you later!


Sakura smiled and hugged the oranges to her chest.

She never thought that her stubborn team mate could possess such thoughtfulness. Even knowing that they weren’t in a real relationship, he treated her like a queen.

What kind of relationship were they in, anyway?

The pink haired medic nin looked down at the note once more, pondering that question in her mind.

A few weeks back she had come to Naruto feeling broken and alone…

Sasuke had left her behind again.

For three days after his departure, she isolated herself from the world, and wallowed in self pity and loathing. In her mind, his leaving meant that she was inadequate. Weak. Ugly, even, unworthy of the sole surviving Uchiha’s love, after all that she had sacrificed for him… she was acting so pitiful and pathetic, it hurt for her to think about it.

One day, while crying in the confines of her room, Sakura heard something stir outside on her balcony.  When she opened her curtains, there was a brown paper bag sitting just outside of her glass door.

When she grabbed the bag, a note fell into her hand.

'Sakura-chan, I hope you aren’t sick. You can talk to me anytime.


For the first time since Sasuke left, the medic nin smiled.

She always felt happy when she was around Naruto.

The coldness around her seemed to vanish as she thought of how many kind things Naruto had done for her during the course of their friendship.

'You can talk to me anytime.’

She reread the scratchy note several times before she slowly rose to her feet.

Her body seemingly moved of its own accord as she made her way in the cover of night to his apartment. 

She just wanted to be loved.

She wanted to be the strong kunoichi she knew she had become in Sasuke’s absence.

The strong one she became in Naruto’s presence.

She needed warmth and light.

“Sakura-chan… Sakura-chan…”

Sakura blushed as her mind replayed the events of that starry night.

Now that intimacy was a regular thing with she and the former jinchuuriki since that particular night, it was hard not to think about it on a regular basis.

What he lacked in words, he really made up for in passion.

But, the question still stood… what had he become to her?

1. Naruto gave her thoughtful gifts on a daily basis.

2. They went on dates.

3. She allowed him to hold her in public.

4. Coitus… lots of it…

If the shadow of Sasuke didn’t haunt her heart, she would have considered herself Naruto’s girlfriend.

After all, over these past couple weeks, she realized that she loved the idiot in return…

'You love Sasuke just as much as you do Naruto, yet the fool gives you all of his heart unselfishly.’

Sadly, Sakura tucked the bag of oranges into her work locker and buttoned her white hospital coat.

“He deserves more than you can give.”

That naggy voice in the pit of her mind was right, she felt.

How could she do this to Naruto who was giving to her so freely without asking for anything in return but pure love?

She took one of the fruits from the sack and slips it in her pocket before starting her shift. A nurse with short brown hair and glasses intercepts Sakura on her way to the hospital reception room. 

“Good morning, Haruno-san! You… you don’t look well…”

The woman says, looking over the younger medic nin curiously.

“I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, Ito-san, but, other than feeling a little nauseous, I think I’m okay.” She smiles, waving her hand dismissively in front of her face.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” The nurse bows before taking her leave. “Oh, Tsunade-sama is waiting for you in the reception room…”

“I know, thanks.”

The smell of the orange in her pocket comforts her as she walks into the reception area to see her mentor, one of the legendary san-nin, standing impatiently with her arms folded under her large chest.

“You’re late, Sakura.” The former hokage states with a displeased look on her face.

“I’m so sorry, I was feeling a little…”

The room started to spin.

“..I was feeling…”

Then her head felt like it was floating painfully away from her body.

“… f-feeling…”

Luckily she was able to find a trash can before she started to empty the contents of her stomach.

Ten minutes later, Sakura found herself recuperating on a hospital gurney in a small examination room. Tsunade opened the door with a confused look on her face as she walked to the side of the younger woman, the shadows cast by the drawn curtains obscuring her face.

“I know you and Naruto have been getting very close lately.”

How did she know about that?

“Are you two sexually active?”

She asks very cautiously, her lips set in a firm line. Sakura’s eyes shot to the floor as her face burned with embarrassment to be asked such a question.

“I see…” Tsunade continues.

“Sakura… you’re pregnant.”

– Story by ODG

Child of the Leaf Chapter 9 coming out tomorrow. 12/17/14

Chapter 9 will have a LOT of confrontations…