paper sneaker

The Sun Will Set || Part 1 || BTS Gang AU ||

Originally posted by linheys

A/N: GUYS IT’S FINALLY HERE. Please enjoy part one of TSWS, and don’t forget to give me feedback! Let me know if you want more. Tell me if you love it. Tell me if you hate it. I love all of you and I’m so grateful for your support! 

~L

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events, you’ve found yourself under the care and protection of your city’s most notorious gang: BTS.

Word Count: 5,207 (this is the first part, let me live)

Genre: Angst, Drama, and some Fluff here and there. But mostly Angst.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue |

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Footwear (Drabble Challenge)

Originally posted by exoxoolf

8. “You’re never this quiet. What’s wrong?”  + 22. “Are you really taking his side now?” + Jongdae + Chanyeol

You laughed as you ran through the crowded market and up beside Jongdae. You looped your arm through his and fell into step beside him. Jongdae smiled at you, but didn’t say anything.

‘Did you find anything you wanted?’ Chanyeol peeked around Jongdae to ask you.

‘Not yet, although the kimchi fries were tempting,’ you admitted.

‘Let’s go then,’ he said, motioning behind him. ‘We should get some.’ Jongdae froze, his arm still tangled with yours.

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Diamond Dogs [a Barry Allen AU]

a/n: i needed mob boss evil barry ok? ok AND DIFFERENT DECADES


At first it started as a normal day; you got up, got dressed in your light green waitress uniform and went to work. What you didn’t expect was a group of leather-clad men entering and everyone in the restaurant clearing out. All of the men are tall and muscular, some have facial hair, except for one who is lean and clean shaven. He slicks his light brown hair back, black bomber jacket scrunching, exposing the yellow lightning bolt patch on the upper arm. The Flash gang.

The boss snaps his fingers, pointing to one of the tables, silently ordering his boy’s to pull out a chair. They comply; the silver metal of the chair legs echo through the building. With a sly smirk, he plops on the seat, crossing his ankles, crinkling the tight dress pants just a tad. “Motherfucker’s late.” he sighs, checking his fancy wrist watch. The men look nervous. “Might as well eat somethin’.” he bites his lip, peering around the little diner, grinning wickedly when he notices you behind the counter. “Hey doll, could I get a menu?”

Gulping, you nod, picking up the thin laminated paper. Your white sneakers squeak on the dirty tiles, stopping at the long table. “Here you go…” you whisper, watching his pale fingers grab the menu, yours still holding on. His leafy green eyes twinkle at you while he smirks, pulling the menu from your grip. “Do you want a dr-”

“Cheeseburger with no pickles, extra fries, with a can of Coke.” he smiles, handing the menu back to you; rings barely touching the edges of the laminated paper. You nod, about to spin towards the kitchen until he captures your wrist. “Bring the fries out first, yeah?” Again, you nod, heading to the kitchen and giving the order to the cook. Quickly, you pour his drink, taking it to him; his three rings clink against the glass. “Thanks, dollface.”

The small bell hung over the door jingles, signifying someone is coming in. Deciding it’s best to be out of sight, you scurry back around the counter, keeping your eyes focused on the restaurant’s telephone. “Allen. Nice to see you again.” the muscular blond sneers, “Have you considered my proposal?” he questions, fixing his leather jacket as he sits across from ‘Allen’.

One of the men steps forward protectively but the boss stops him. “Easy, Cisco.” he smirks, eyes never leaving the blond. “I’ve given it some thought, Mr. Queen. Maybe up the price, then we’ll talk.” he muses, watching you bring the basket of fries to the table, “Ah, wonderful! Thanks doll.”

You blush, cracking a little grin. ‘Queen’ suddenly pulls a gun from the waistband of his jeans, aiming it at the brown haired man, who doesn’t flinch. “Barry, I need this. I’m begging you. Make the damn deal.” he growls through gritted teeth, blue eyes squinted in rage. You hold your breath, fear bubbling inside you.

Barry rises from his seat, leaning on the table with his hands clutched to the sides. “Now, now, Oliver, no need for weapons. It’s simple, I will do it, if you up the price. I don’t work for nothin’.” he smirks, waving one of his hands. “Going once.” he says in a demanding voice, eyeing Oliver. “Going twice.” he warns.

“Deal. I’ll get you the money next Tuesday.” Oliver grunts, tucking the gun behind his back with his jaw set.

A coy grin creeps on Barry’s face, “Good. Now, get outta my sight.” he waves his hand towards the door, picking up a crispy fry and munching on it. Oliver scowls, leaving the building. You just stand there in pure shock. He chews, glancing at you. “Sorry you had to see that, baby. But you did…” he sighs, dropping the fry in the basket, rubbing his index and thumb together, dusting off the salt.

You shake your head, clutching the pale green skirt of your uniform, “I…I won’t tell anyone, I swear!”

His hands clap together, rings clinking as his dress shoes waltz over to you. He smiles at you reassuringly, “I know you won’t.” he pouts almost mockingly, cupping your cheek; the cold rings press against your skin. “But, you belong to the Flash now.” he shrugs nonchalantly, spinning on his heel, and snapping at the door. His men open it for him and he struts out.

anonymous asked:

*coughs* so you want Sabriel prompts? I can do that. First up: college au, Sam hasn't seen Gabriel for a couple of days and he's kinda worried, so he goes to Gabriel's apt. and finds a very sick art student who has very high fever and has decided that he can /totally/ take care of himself. Fluff ensues.

This kinda turned into a “someone else hasn’t seen Gabriel in a few days and sends Sam in search of him, but I like it.

“Hey, you live in Edlund hall, right? Second floor?” A redhead who Sam vaguely knows to be Anna had flagged him down in the cafeteria, and is now questioning him on his personal life. Swap her for a redhead known as Charlie and it’s just another day in the life.

“Uh, yeah. Did you need something?” Edlund hall is a guys’ dorm, so she can’t be locked out.

“You know Gabriel Novak?”

Sam knew Gabriel Novak- the guy who lived across the hall and had taken care of him when he was sick last week and had the craziest room and went trick-or-treating in the dorm last halloween and definitely was not the guy Sam had a massive crush on. “Yeah?”

“You haven’t seen him recently, have you? He’s not answering anyone, no one’s seen him since the weekend, and someone thought I’d know if he was okay- he’s my cousin,” she adds. “Just… make sure he’s still on campus, if you could?”

Sam nods. “No problem.”

Knocking is getting him nowhere, and Sam is about to give up when he leans against the door handle and the door swings inward, left unlocked. “Gabriel?”

"Mmmph. ‘S’open.”

The room is a cave. Sam can barely make out the blanketed form of Gabriel curled up in a ball in bed. There’s a small pile of tissues on the ground near the foot of the bed, and at the head is a half empty package of vanilla oreos. The rest of the place is a disaster- art supplies covering the desk in no real semblance of order, books stacked on the floor, papers on the chair, sneakers and shirts tossed in a corner. So, nothing unusual.

Sam flicks on the bathroom light instead of the overhead fluorescents (he’s not cruel) but Gabriel groans anyway, turning away to bury his face in the pillow. “Why you gotta do that?” he gets out, muffled.

“Have you been in here since Sunday?” Sam asks incredulously.

Gabriel lifts his head- and he looks awful. Like, dark circled, red nosed, bleary eyed awful. “Think so?”

“Oh my god, you’re sick. I got you sick.”

Gabriel waves a hand, although he does so weakly and halfheartedly. “I’s’okay Sammy. ‘M’okay.”

“Gabriel, it’s Wednesday. No one’s seen you-“

"Damn,” the art student gets out, dropping his head again. “Thought it was Monday.”

“You’ve been in here alone for three days now. I’m pretty sure that’s the sweatshirt you were wearing Sunday night. Nothing about this is- is okay!” Sam splutters. “You should have come and found me, I’m right across the hall-“

"I can take care of myself, Sam.”

“You haven’t been anywhere but the bathroom in three days, you haven’t had any decent food, there aren’t even any new sketches on the bulletin board, and when you stop drawing, something is seriously wrong. Just… let me get you back to healthy.”

"Sleeping it off,” Gabriel insists.

There’s a lull during which Sam wonders at what point he started noticing things like how many sketches were on the board and instead starts noticing things like that Gabriel is shivering. Just a little, but enough for Sam to notice. “Do you have a fever?”

“You honestly think I got the ther- thermo- thermenmeeter- that thing and checked?”

In one quick stride, aka before the other boy can protest, Sam crosses the room and presses his hand to Gabriel’s forehead- burning. “You have a fever and you’re going to let me take care of you.”

"I’m gonna be okay, Sam, I’m not dying. Jus’ let me.”

Sam draws a breath. “Humor me.”

Gabriel looks at him for a minute, then says, defeated, “Blankets’re on the top shelf.”

Not leaving Gabriel the time to change his mind, Sam pulls two down and drapes them over his hallmate. “Want me to make soup?”

“If it’ll make you happy. But… inna few? Wanna enjoy the warm.”

Sam settles himself on the rug beside the bed. “I’ll stay.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You stayed with me, all last weekend.”

“Yeah, but…” Gabriel flops his head to the side to look at Sam, still all fever flushed. “I like you though. ‘S’different.”

Sam’s heart is all fluttery, but he manages to keep his calm as he leans in and kisses Gabriel’s warm forehead. “Just accept that I’m here and enjoy your blankets.” Because I like you too.

“Kissing me better, Sammoose?”

“Yeah. You’re well on your way to recovery now.”

Gabriel’s eyes slide closed, and he asks softly, “Double dose?”

Once Gabriel is better, Sam thinks, he’s going to make sure Gabriel has a regular prescription of kisses, administered by mouth, but for now, he complies with a gentle hand on Gabriel’s chin and a soft kiss to his cheek.

bob-morley  asked:

Random prompt, smutty or not (but smutty is always better) Bellamy is the nerdy sneaky hot (glee reference there) captain of the high schools debate team who is secretly seeing Clarke who is the captain of the cheerleading squad

elastic 
warning: smut under the cut
(this is rather short, but I hope I do it justice I AM SUCH A LIAR; I wrote that before I started and now I’m 1k in because I am such trash and have no chill)

Four years fly by and here are the things they don’t tell each other:

It’s number one in the cheer handbook to smile while you strut, but there’s a permanent crinkle that etches into Clarke’s brow when she’s at the top of the pyramid, pearly white smiles and all you can see is the damn princess frowning like she’s assessing the wind’s direction as she flails her arms in earnest. 

(Bellamy fantasizes about that very same face while he’s sleeping sometimes, imagines it’s the same frown she’ll make when he’s touching her someday, and fuck he’ll murmur under a sleepy groan when he wakes up too soon, pulls his polka dot boxers down his toned hips and gets the shower running.)

Clarke’s memorized the gruff undertones of his voice through half-open doorways, reverberating down empty hallways when she’s late to cheer and he’s got a debate meeting after school. She remembers stopping once, squeaky white sneakers halting on the linoleum as Bellamy, all impassioned and infuriatingly snarky, made his final point about rehabilitation versus incarceration. 

With the dark overgrown curls that tickle his face and black framed specs on the bridge of his nose, he should be like all the rest of the debate geeks. But those damn white tees he wears under his open shirts, the toned biceps, the clenched jaw he gets when his opponent tries to outsmart him, it just doesn’t match.

God of the nerds, as Raven so kindly put it.

That day, Bellamy’d caught her staring through the gated glass window, smirked through his words, eyes set on her as he finished off his speech, a gaze so intense that it would have hauled a Clean Teen out of celibacy.

(And no, Clarke did not skip practice shortly afterwards, all flushed and heated, to run the locker room showers all at the same time, hoping to drown out some of her moans as she shoved her hand between her thighs.)

Of course not.

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anonymous asked:

"We were both skipping class at the same time in the bathroom but someone passed by and now were hiding in a cramped stall" percabeth AU, that would be awersome!

A/N: I hope you like it! This was super fun to write!

Close Encounters

;;

Annabeth didn’t always skip class.

No, she was better known for her spotless attendance record and strict regard for the rules. She came in early most days, huddled in the back of the library, nose deep in her textbooks and soaking in as much information as she could before the first rays of sunlight spread out against the morning sky. Her grades reflected her meticulous study habits and the harsh expectations she set for herself. She was a straight-A student with a flawless permanent record.

And she intended to keep it that way.

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