jesus when was the last time you saw danny grin that widely though

Strawberries & Chocolate ~Phan~

Oneshot. Fem!Phan. Pippa thinks her sex life with Danni has lost its spark, so Danni decides to spice it up a little. Smut but also hella fluff.

Rating: M. Oh you know just a few swear words and it’s fem!smut do you think this was gonna have a low rating?

This is my first smut ever so please, please tell me what you thought xxx

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Kept, Chapter 16: Code Yellow

The saga is here    AO3

Carmilla and Laura face an animal escape together, and this time it isn’t a drill! (aka here’s some funny zookeeper-day-in-the-life after the angst)

It had been about a week since Carmilla and Laura had been stuck at the zoo for the snow emergency. After Carmilla pulled an overnight shift, Danny had said “If there’s anything you want, now is the time to ask for it, kiddo.” Carmilla had requested her one of her off days be moved – now she and Laura had the same weekend. It was the zookeeper jackpot. 

She’d slowly started moving her things to Laura’s place. After their late night talk where she actually revealed her past, something she’d expected both to happen sooner and later than it did, they had a few more talks about where they stood. Laura accepted her, with her past and trauma and occasional PTSD symptoms. But they did both admit to moving a little fast, and Carmilla decided to keep her apartment until her lease ran out in three months. Carmilla was welcome to spend every night with Laura, but they both still technically had their own places for a little while.

They also started slowly being more open at work – mostly just revealing that they were friends. C&F keepers and the Big Cat keepers usually stayed within their own groups. They turned the occasional head when they ate lunch together in the zoo’s café.

“I swear, that reptile keeper is staring at us,” Laura said, biting into her chicken finger.

Carmilla rolled her eyes playfully. “He might be staring at the sheer number of ketchup cups you’re surrounded by.”

“There are only about five edible things in this café, and this chicken only makes the list because of ketchup.”

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anonymous asked:

'The key is under the mat!' thank you soo much if u do this- ziam pls

I was super excited about this, you can verify with @soakyourskin.(thanks for everything, poopy ily) Thank you so much for this!! I hope I do it justice <3



Zayn is still a little pissed off his arse, giggling to himself as he remembers the conversation he had with Louis yesterday about peanuts, as he walks along the road, wondering why the hell he hasn’t reached yet. He’s positive he’s been walking for half an hour. 

Doesn’t it usually take him less than fiv-fif- dammit, what’s the word? Oh yeah, fiveteen minutes. He stops in his wobbly tracks, leaning against a gate and squinting at his surroundings. Zayn’s not completely useless when he’s drunk, despite what Louis thinks, but he really doesn’t recognise this street. 

No, wait. He does. It’s that cheerful Irish lad Niall’s street, though. Several blocks away from his. 

Fuck, Zayn is so stupid. He’s also suddenly very tired. He sighs, turning around and concentrating on not falling. 

He’s been walking for barely three minutes, when it begins pouring, drenching his clothes instantly and making him groan. He looks around for shelter, grinning when he spots a 24/6 convenience store with Christmas lights still hung up around the entrance. He jogs across the street, pushes the Pull door open and grimaces at the drooling employee passed out on the cashier desk. 

He bites his lip and walks around, looking for the stools sometimes scattered amongst the aisles. He doesn’t find any, but he sits on top of one of the bottom shelves, careful to let most of his weight fall on his legs, and not his arse. The rain shows no sign of stopping any time soon, the sound deafening as it hits the roof of the store. He pulls out his mobile, wondering if he should call Louis and get him to pick him up, before deciding against it and pulling up a game of Candy Crush. 

He falls asleep, five games in and the rain still going strong. His head is tucked between two shelves, his feet splayed across the aisle. 

He wakes out of a nightmare with a start, banging his head on the metal shelf, hands flailing because what the fuck where is he right now. He winces at the throbbing pain shooting through his head and neck, before ducking under the shelf and trying to stand. Except, because of his innate clumsiness and lingering drunkenness, he falls, his legs doing a sort of split and- and fuck, was that the sound of his pants tearing? He’s wearing jeans, there’s no way, really.

He rights himself, standing and leaning against the counter, before looking down and shrieking when he sees that his pants have somehow turned into fucking palazzos? And yep, the flimsy material is obviously torn. Completely. All the way to the front. And it’s probably going to get worse every time he moves. 

Fantastic. And he can’t for the life of him figure out how his skinny jeans turned into palazzos. Palazzos, that honestly, look a little familiar. But he can’t seem to place-



Liam hums as he pushes the door open, rolling his eyes at the figure asleep on the desk. Harry is the worst employee ever, Liam swears. He walks up to the lean, curly headed, drooling boy, shaking his shoulder firmly to wake him up. 

‘The fuck do you-oh, hi, Li.’ 

‘Don’t ‘hi’ me, Harry. Soon enough, you being my friend is not going to convince boss to let you continue working here.’ He scowls at Harry. 

Harry grins at him. ‘Liam, I’ll be working here as long as you’re able to work your puppy eyes. Trust me.’

Liam huffs, smacking him on the back of his head. ‘You’re awful.’

Harry shrugs. ‘And you’re an overachiever. Uni classes during the day, a three hour shift at the pub, plus a five hour shift here. And for no reason.’

‘I literally only take one class on sound engineering everyday, Harry. And this shift doesn’t count, I just listen to music and do some reading and get paid for it.’ 

Harry cocks his head to the side, muttering something but Liam’s too busy focusing on a muffled yelling voice floating towards him- he shushes Harry with a finger on the lip. 

‘Do you hear that?’ He turns around, walking towards the yelling voice without waiting for answer. It’s not that they don’t get customers during their shifts at all, even at the graveyard hours, but they usually just pick up something and make their way out. Harry’s been asleep, and Liam’s been in the store for about ten minutes, which is more than long enough for him to buy the stuff and leave. 

He turns a corner, startling a dark haired boy who’s yelling into his phone, making him look up and into Liam’s eyes. He looks really familiar, for some reason. 

And fuck, his eyes. His lips. His hair, his skin, his eyebrows, his- is he wearing a buttery patterned palazzos? Liam’s eyes widen a little, but he’s no one to judge. They look quite cute on him, anyway. Liam appreciates his bravery and defiance of gender norms. He makes his way back to Harry, lets him know it’s just a lad his age and no one’s in danger, before scowling as he watches Harry curl into himself and close his eyes. 

He jogs back to the aisle with the cute boy, standing in front of him awkwardly.

He smiles warmly. ‘Can I help you?’ 

The man licks his lip, seeming nervous, before smiling lightly and holding up a finger at Liam. 

‘Louis, please, mate, I’m sure this classifies as an emergency.’ 

Liam frowns. 

‘Oh my god, no way. No way in hell. Who the fuck cares if it’s dark, I am not standing up in these, Louis. C’mon, mate, I-’ He pauses, narrowing his eyes at the floor. 

‘Wanker. See if I wingman you next time you see Curly.’ 

He watches as the boy grunts and hangs up the phone, before glancing up at Liam, red filling his cheeks. 

Liam asks, concerned. ‘Is there a problem? You don’t have to share but- you mentioned something about an emergency and just- maybe I could try and help?’

The boy huffs out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Nothing you can really do to help, really, Liam.’ 

Liam nods. ‘You don’t know that, maybe- wait, how do you know my name?’ He hadn’t even gotten time to put his name tag on. 

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