panda-bags

5

I had sent にぱさん (their twitter is currently MIA) my second fanbook a while back for letting me draw their design in the book, and they sent me these goodies in the mail. I wanted their Aryll pouch so bad too, they are so kind to me. ;-; There was also candy included in the panda bag wah! That tiny Makar is everything. ;-;

Opinion (Vernon/Hansol)

type: fluff
pairing: you x hansol/vernon
words: 1624
synopsis: in which you reluctantly go to a seventeen fansign in place of your sick best friend and it’s the beginning of a love story 
a/n: yeet hello i am here again!! thank you all so so so much for 4K! love you all so much x

I want to be your favourite hello and your hardest goodbye.

Originally posted by i-wonwoo


Hansol was having a bad day. A horrible day. A no-good, horrible, shitty excuse of a bad day. He was a panda, with eye bags as dark as the eerie black night in which he had worked tirelessly through. An old man, whose joints would creak and cramp with every small movement his pen yielding hand would make. A clown, whose cheeks ached from the prolonged amounts of times he’d flashed a drop dead gorgeous smile in the direction of an eager fan.

And what was his solution? His remedy to all these problems?

Nothing. Continue being all those things. And if he were honest, he was becoming tired and bored of the ‘same old, same old’ schedule he’d been forced to become accustomed to.

“Ya, Hansol-ah. Look alive, would you? At least make an effort to act like you want to be here. What’s gotten into you lately?” Leader S.Coups whispered, trying not to draw any attention to their conversation.

Hansol sighed, straightening his back and cracking his knuckles, “Sorry, hyung. Just feeling a little drained.”

Seungcheol gave his dongsaeng an encouraging smile, bringing his hand up and giving him a strong slap to the back, “This isn’t for us. Remember, this is for them, the carats. They’re the ones who have helped us get where we are today, and this is the least we can do for them.”

The younger nodded, refocusing his energy on the upcoming excited girl who was making her way towards him.

Don’t misunderstand, he loved his job, he adored his fans. But even idols had their bad days, and although Vernon’s presence was there at yet another fan sign - Hansol’s heart lay within the sheets asleep, where he wished he was and doing what he wished he was doing.

Earnestly, he hoped for something different to happen, something spontaneous and something that wasn’t planned. Something that would catch him off guard, open his eyes and turn the fake smile he had on into something genuine. Something… or someone that would give his heart a reason to wake up from within the sheets.


“___________!” Whined your friend, Ji Su, “C'mon, please? This is my dream!”

You rolled your eyes, placing the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter. It joined the other useless junk and clutter you were forced to scavenge for, for the sake of your best friend. It had begun during the early hours of the morning, where your slumber was disturbed by an 'urgent’ phone call from a sniffly Ji Su, who stated it an emergency. However, upon arrival, you were informed that the 'emergency’ was nothing but a hoax. You were merely called to provide for her every need whilst she recovers from a savage cold.

It began small, with the occasional glass of water here and there. But as time progressed Ji Su began to become more complacent and started making you do some errands and chores for her whilst she elegantly flipped through Tumblr and Instagram posts. Groceries, washing, dishes, cooking, cleaning - everything, you did it all.

But her final request was simply not going to happen.

“Nope. Sorry, Ji Su. There is no way in hell you are making me go to their stupid fan sign. It’s not my fault you’re sick, so you suffer the damn consequences.” You huffed grumpily, eliciting a loud groan from your best friend.

“Why are you bashing them so much! What did they ever do to you?”

You shrugged, tentatively taking out the groceries from the plastic bag and putting them in their respective places, Ji Su’s narrowed eyes watching you closely. “I’m sorry that I’m no fan of prissy goodie-two-shoes boys who wear baby pink and have millions of annoying screaming little lady fans who freak out every time one of them breathes.” You fired back in her direction, knowing damn well that those screaming little lady fans were a perfect description of the girl drowning in her own tissues in front of you.

Ji Su sighed, looking forlorn and downcast.

You groaned, looking annoyed and defeated. “Fine.”

Your best friend flashed her pearly white teeth, taking out a full-blown portrait of Hansol and handing it to you eagerly, “You’re the best, _______! Now go! Say hi to the boys for me!”

Which was how you found yourself at the door of Seventeen’s fan sign, looking like you’ve been run over by a bus ten times. But who really cared? You weren’t trying to impress anybody. 


Hansol noticed you the second you walked into the fan sign. In a room filled with girls who were buried in their makeup and covered in their finest attire, how could he not? With your sweatpants and stained hoodie - you were a sight for sore eyes. 

Hansol’s heart stirred. 

Hazel orbs followed your figure as it dragged itself to the beginning of the table and stopped in front of a shocked Boo Seungkwan. It was evident that he too was confused as to why a grumpy girl would come to a fan sign that she so blatantly didn’t want to attend to. Despite your obviously depressing attitude, Hansol suddenly felt alive and awake.

He was most intrigued by the girl who tried the least to obtain his attention. 

Four more people. Just four more people and you’d be in front of him. Four more people until he can figure out what it was about you that was causing his heart to awake from its slumber. 

Three more.

Two more.

One.

And then you were in front of him in all your grouchy glory. And Hansol forgot how to breathe. 

With your uncombed and unruly hair, uncovered blemishes and tainted clothes, you were even more perfect up close than he could ever have imagined. You were just so different to any girl he’d ever come across. It wasn’t just natural beauty, it was also a genuine mindset and personality that didn’t give a fuck about what people thought about the way you looked. He knew there was a connection.

“Make this out to Ji Su.” You muttered quietly, shoving a photo of himself at himself. You wanted to be in and out of this place as fast as possible, so this dreadful day can finally come to an end. 

But as if the universe hated you, his hand made contact with yours. 

Sparks. Fireworks. Fucking dynamite explosions. 

You knew he could feel it too when his hand recoiled at the sudden sensation. These events were used for the two of you to observe one another. It was only then did you take notice of his hazel orbs that were shaped like the moon, the waves of his brown-blonde hair and the pink, inviting lips that were stretched into a perfect ‘o’.

You cleared your throat and blinked away the hearts that were beginning to float into your vision. 

He smiled a toothy grin, and you scolded yourself for melting a little, for falling under the stupid trance in which he had everyone in the room under. “Beautiful name for a beautiful lady.”

You scoffed, involuntarily rolling your eyes at the cheesiness and the cliche that is, the teenage heartthrob of the generation. “________, actually. Nice try. Ji Su is my friend, she’s sick so I’m stuck on slave duty for the day. Trust me, I’m not a fan.”

A perfectly plucked eyebrow quirked up, “Not a fan, huh?” He echoed, nonchalantly signing the photo and trying to act unphased, “Why is that?”

Shrugging, you watched as his dainty hand wrapped around his pen, his milky skin distracting you from what you intended to say. Your mind began to wonder about the smoothness of his skin, the waves of his hair, the pink of his lips… with wide eyes, you shook yourself from your own thoughts. 

What was it about this boy, and why were you acting like this towards him? 

“Have you guys ever heard of individuality, uniqueness? Because if you have, then you’re doing a pretty shit job at showing it. You Kpop ‘idols’ are nothing but photocopied versions of each other, that’s why I’m no fan. It’s always the bad boy, the cute one, the rapper. There’s always these same characteristics with you guys and I honestly don’t see why people keep screaming over boys who are replications of one another… That’s my opinion, at least.”

Now usually, people would back away slowly and wonder what on earth was wrong with you for having such passionate thoughts about a non-controversial subject. Usually, people would change the topic. Usually, they’d pretend they’d have to go. Usually, but not this time. 

Hansol merely grinned. 

“Well, ________.” He began, putting his pen down and leaning in closer to your face, “I’d like to be given the opportunity to change your opinion on us ‘Kpop idols’, if you’d let me.”

Yes. 

Yes.

Oh God, Yes. 

What? No way am I associating myself with you.” You scoffed, looking away to hide the blush creeping up your neck. 

Hansol’s smile remained as radiant as ever, “Bummer.” 

And with that, he handed you the photo back, and you left feeling  somehow disappointed. You felt something for him. Your heart tugged towards him. Yet your stupid stubbornness and pride had to get in the way. 

However, as you walked back to Ji Su’s apartment that evening, you gasped as a piece of post-it paper fluttered off the portrait of Hansol. Tenderly, you picked it up and scanned the words written on it’s pink surface.

Dear, ________.
You felt something too. I know you did.
## ### ### #### (his number)

- Just another Kpop ‘idol’

You smiled and placed the paper inside your pocket. 

Could this be the start of something new?

TUAFW you go to Stimtastic and buy a whole bunch of super cute stim toys and an adorable panda bag to put them all in, but the first time you try to take it to school attached to your backpack zipper, your mom asks, “What’s in the bag?”  You show her and explain that you need them to help yourself stay calm and regulate your sensory system, but she just snaps at you and says, “I’ve had just about enough of these ridiculous games of yours, you’re not disabled, no matter how much you wish you were!” then she confiscates your bag and says it was stupid to waste your money on a bunch of silly toys, and all you can think is that you were right to keep your suspected PTSD to yourself. - emoticat

prompt fill for that one cute hospital prompt that anon send

James had known he was gonna end up falling down the stairs the moment he’d seen them when he and Brett were apartment hunting.

“You’ll be fine,” Brett had said, hands on his hips and a proud smile on his stupid fucking face. The place was cheap, close to the office, and allowed pets. The only downside was that it was on the second floor and the stairs were old - crumbly, steep, and iced over in the winter.

They’d rented the damn thing, James needed to save money and Brett wanted to be close, and James had dealt with the stupid fucking stairs - until a swift October wind and an icy storm the night before had landed him exactly where he was now.

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Saeran & Baby Minho -- “I love you... big much.”

A/N: I will never get enough of these two dorks. If you like babies (and baby Minho) then you could also check these out: 

Round 1 Round 2 Round 3

This one was really quick and written while half-asleep so hopefully it’s not too bad lol. 



Saeran’s sleeping form on the bed was a sight to behold. His mouth was hanging open, eyes left half-open (there were times he slept with his eyes open and this was one of those times), arms and legs spread out on the bed in the shape of a starfish.

He was pooped. He may as well be a corpse, considering he wasn’t stirring in the least despite Minho kneeling right next to him and giggling, with his rosy face hovering over his.

You knew you should probably put a stop to this. Saeran would be fuming the moment he woke up, but at this point, you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were getting all this down on video, perfect to add to your collection of blackmail material.

Minho’s giggles were getting louder, and you hushed him, placing your finger over your lips as you continued recording this on your phone. The three-year-old clamped his hand over his mouth, still shaking with laughter but nodding to indicate that he had heard you.

Then, he returned to the mission at hand. A most deadly one, indeed.

Raising the permanent marker again, he carefully traced it over the unsuspecting man’s face, adding more moustaches – this was the fourth one already – random scribbles and dots on his cheeks and forehead, and more panda eye bags under his eyes. 

Yep… Saeran’s canvas of a face was slowly transforming into Minho’s first ever work of art. A grand masterpiece.

And you were trying your best to keep your phone steady while suppressing the peals of laughter threatening to spill past your lips.

When Minho was done, he waved the marker proudly in the air and beamed in your direction. “Finish!” he cried, before his eyes widened and he clamped his hand over his mouth again, causing the marker to fly from his hand and land right smack on Saeran’s forehead.

Both of you held your breaths as the redhead scrunched up his nose and turned his head to the side, but to your relief, he didn’t wake up.

“Phew,” Minho whispered, carefully picking the marker back up. Then he grinned at Saeran’s ridiculous appearance. “Hyung wooks siwwy,” he snickered, capping the marker and obediently handing it back to you. 

You accepted it from the boy, stepping forward so you could zoom in on Saeran’s now disfigured face. Goodness knows what he would do to you and Minho once he woke up, not to mention he’d have a lot of trouble getting all of that off his face.

You’d assure him that you’d love him no matter what he looked like, but you were certain that wouldn’t help your case very much.

In that case, there was only one way you could possibly redeem Minho and yourself. 

“Minho,” you whispered, causing the boy to look up at you into the camera. “Do you remember how to wake sleeping beauty up?” you asked. You had just read the bedtime story to him a couple nights ago, hopefully he still remembered.

He thought about it for a moment, and then nodded his head vigorously in response. “Yeah.”

“Can you wake hyung up now?” 

He turned his head from you to Saeran, and a smile crept up your face when he slowly leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his nose. You thought you could die from the sheer amount of cuteness of the moment. To think, they had gone from being at each other’s throats the first time they met to this. They were still always at each other’s throats, but they were far more affectionate with each other now compared to how they were at first. They were more attached to each other than either would like to admit. 

Tsunderes. 

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2

A couple of sketches of my Panda sona Mars.
They’re genderless and go by they/them pronouns.
.
I used to occasionally draw my main sona, Peachy, as a female but this has had people confused about me. So I kind of created Mars to be that gender fluid sona that I can really express myself with.
⭐🐼⭐

anonymous asked:

I always sleep 7 hours but I always look like a panda and fall half asleep in the bus , what can wake me up more?

I always set my alarm a bit earlier so I can lay in bed on my phone and give myself time to wake up a bit. I always find drinking some cold orange juice wakes me up in the morning too. Also fit under eye bags/panda eyes use some concealer under your eyes to cover the dark circles and it will make u look more awake xx

fratboy!luke (part 5)

READ PART FOUR HERE

a/n: I’m sad about this chapter bc its slightly emotional and heartbreaking. however it means I’m that much closer to getting to write the chapter i’ve been waiting to write this entire series:-) as always, feedback is much appreciated. enjoy!


Luke sighed at the dark blue and purple bruise that had formed on his cheekbone as well as the one on the bridge of his nose. The split in his lip had all but healed up over the weekend. Leaning closer to the mirror he ran his fingers over the bruise gently. He was trying to get ready for class but was unsure of how to deal with the bruise. Try and wear a hat in hopes that the shadow would hide it? See if anyone has any concealer or foundation to cover it? Who was he kidding he didn’t know how to put on foundation and he didn’t have time to look up a youtube video. A hat was his best option probably.

“Looks pretty nasty,” Michael’s voice startled him. “It’s just sore, doesn’t really hurt anymore. Couldn’t sleep last night though because every time I rolled over it bumped it,” Luke frowned, stepping away from the mirror. He situated a black baseball cap over his slightly curly hair, thinking back to the weekend.

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2

made myself a reversible WIP bag! That panda fabric used to be a pair of shorts that I never wore (but I loved the fabric!) so it was a great way to recycle. 

I made about 4 of these (trying to work out the kinks in the pattern) and the nicest one went to my best friend (a knitter) for her birthday. 

What do you guys use as Work-in-Progess bags?