this better be true i swear to god

There’s nothing confirmed on this but basically what it says is that:

Samuel allegedly gets bullied in school which includes some of his classmates pushing him around and once when he was carrying some books down the stairs a group of boys came and said ‘woah its Punch’ and hit the books off him and also hitting him. When Samuel used to be absent due to his 1Punch schedules and the teacher would ask where he was during registration (roll call) they’d shout out that he quit school cuz they didn’t want to see him. Plus, they would play his VApp lives and MV’s at school and mock him by mimicking him. Recently they would play his introduction video for Produce 101 and also mock him with that. But Samuel being the angel that he is doesn’t argue back so they presume hes kinda dumb or they thinks that Samuel thinks he’s being trendy. 

I swear to God if any of this shit turns out to be true these people better be ready to catch these hands cuz I’ll be ready to fight these ugly hoes who thinks its ok to bother/ bully Samuel who hasn’t done shit except work hard. It reminds me of when Taemin used to get bullied as well ughghghghh everyones salty hes gonna get famous. Bye 


Request from my fave @i-am-the-luna for a Jax x Reader using the following prompts:

#10 - “I’m gonna kill him!”

#58 - “Well this is a nice change of scenery.” “____, we’re in a prison cell.” “I was being sarcastic.”

Originally posted by hunnamsource

You pace the cage, Jax sitting calmly on the bench, an amused smile on his face as he watches you.

See, today had started out wonderful. So wonderful in fact, that you decided to head to the clubhouse with Jax and see if Gemma needed any help at TM.

Long story short, some bitch had come in to get her car serviced, though you were pretty sure she was just there to drool and flirt with Jax. You’d obviously not taken to that kindly, and when said bitch started to run her mouth, you’d punched her straight in the face.

She called the cops, one of the officers grabbed you a little too roughly for Jax’s liking, which then led to him punching said officer in the face - you and Jax both having the same low tolerance for bullshit - and now the two of you were being held hostage in a fucking cell. Great.

“Well this is a nice change of scenery.” Jax breaks the silence, you stopping your pacing to glare at your cellmate. He swipes his tongue over his lower lip, a teasing look on his face.

“Jax, we’re in a prison cell.” you deadpan, holding your arms up around you to gesture to your current surroundings. He smirks at you, rolling his eyes, his hands coming to rest on his thighs as he pushes himself upwards.

“I was being sarcastic.” You raise your eyebrows, his laid back exterior slowly cracking through your stressed one, a smile making its way onto your face. He reaches you, pulling you by the belt loops until you’re right in front of him, your palms resting on his chest.

“I’m sure after the second or third time of being locked up, I’ll be calmer.” you jest, Jax’s arms slipping around your waist and resting on your ass in a protective way. “Just let me freak out for my first time.”

He hums, leaning down to share a gentle kiss, your eyes slipping shut he does so. Once he pulls away, he moves his hands to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “My apologies, babe. I sometimes forget what a good girl you are.”

“Damn, I bet she is.” you jump at the sound of company, Jax moving you aside and going closer to the bars, the police officer from earlier on the other side, a painful bruise forming on his cheekbone.

“What did you say?” Jax spits, his figure tall as he stares down the officer. The man just smirks, his eyes moving to you as they trail up and down your body, your skin crawling as he does so. Creep.

“I bet she’s really good with orders, hm? You know what they say, a lady in the streets is a freak in the sheets.” You scoff in disgust, knowing this man is just trying to push Jax’s buttons, and he’s definitely going to succeed. “Bet she’s real good with her tongue.”

“You better shut the fuck up before I reach through these bars and shove my fist down your throat.” Jax growls, his tone overflowing with venom. You rub your hand up and down his back soothingly, trying to calm him down.

“Bet she’s nice and tight, wet too. That true, sweetheart?” you scoff in disgust, feeling Jax shaking out of anger. He grabs at the bars, the officer flinching as Jax yanks at the metal, anger radiating off him in huge waves.

“I swear to god, I’m gonna slit your goddamn throat, remember that.” The look of terror on the man’s face is hilarious, and you’d laugh if the tensions weren’t so high.

“We alright here, gentleman?” you breathe a sigh of relief when Unser interrupts, a set of keys in his hand. His officer coughs nervously, before scampering out of sight.

After Unser cuts you two loose, the whore intelligently deciding not to press charges and Unser managing to let Jax off with a warning, you wait outside the station for your ride.

“I’m gonna kill him!” Jax yells suddenly, before he takes a drag from his cigarette, the nicotine failing to lower his vexation.

“Hey,” you push off the wall you’re leaning against, moving to stand in front of Jax. “Don’t let him get to you. He just said those things to piss you off.”

He shakes his head in defiance, his lip curling as he replays the confrontation over and over in his mind. There is nothing that gets him angrier than people disrespecting his family, especially you.

“It fucking worked, and once I get my hands on him, he’ll have more than a sore cheek to worry about.” Jax seethes, throwing his cig to the floor. He sits on the wall, pulling you gently to stand in between his legs.

You comb your fingers through his hair, knowing it helps calm him, his eyes slipping shut as you tug softly at his locks. “You’re my girl, (Y/N). I’m always gonna look after you, you know that right?”

You smile warmly at his confession, nodding in confirmation as he looks up at you. “And me, you.”

A/N - I hope you guys liked this! These requests are making it so much easier to write, I like knowing what you guys want to read :) till next time! X


“ […] PEOPLE WHO ARE MEAN TO ANIMALS!!!! The only promise I make in this whole page is this: If I ever see anyone on god’s green earth harm a dog or be mean or unkind to any mammal, I will SEVERELY hurt you, I swear to God, I swear on my computer, on my car, on my fucking LIFE I will hurt you. ”
- Eric Harris

@yuriplisetsky is a size queen

Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky

2,900 words

“What are you talking about?”

“Your Twitter? Your thread that spends about ten tweets waxing poetry about the size of my dick? Everyone’s talking about it, the fans are going crazy, I had Victor ringing me up half an hour ago to ask if it was true and if I really had deflowered Russia’s Fairy like that, and I just – what the hell were you thinking, Yuri?”

In which Yuri gets drunk and Tweets some things he probably shouldn’t have.

AO3 link

So @94mercy made this post that headcanoned that Yuri gets drunk one night and talks about the size of Otabek’s dick on social media, and I immediately knew I had to write it. Otherwise known as me just wanting to join in with all the hung!Otabek content that’s been coming out of this fandom in recent weeks. 

(Also tagging @daddybek because that’s where this all started back in February)

They’ve been dating for a few months when it happens.

Yuri goes round to Mila’s for a few drinks after practice one day, and they steadily make their way through a bottle of vodka, laughing and talking about their respective partners. The music is loud and Yuri feels all loose and giggly as he reaches for his phone, taking selfies and documenting their escapades on Snapchat. He’s never been this drunk before, so drunk he’s not even sure what order his memories from the last few hours go in, so drunk that he can barely stand, so drunk that the room is spinning.

He sits down and opens Twitter, starting to type. He doesn’t even think about what he’s Tweeting, just starts a thread and keeps on going until he gets it all off his chest. Mila is grabbing at his hands and pulling him up so they can dance together again, and Yuri’s phone lies on the couch, forgotten.

So he doesn’t see what he’s done until morning.

Keep reading


Originally posted by jengkook

Word count: 1820

Warnings: ANGST

Author’s note: I feel like I got a lot to say right now. Sorry about that in advance.

First of all this scenario is inspired by K.A.R.D.’s “Rumor”. At first I didn’t liked that song but I started liking it eventually. And damn this photoshoot gets me everytime. Also I don’t have the feeling I wrote a good Jimin story yet so I hope this will be poppin.

Second thing: I guess you noticed that I am repeating the members now. I mostly pick who I think would fit the role but there hasn’t really been any request regarding a certain group/member. Just to let you know that I am open for any suggestion! If not then I am willing to continue my own comeups ;)

For the third and last thing I just reached 400 followers!! ♥♥♥ For that I wanted to welcome every new companion and of course thank you all :D It is overwhelming to me how this blog grew out of nothing :) I will continue as long as you guys like me to ;) But now we will get going!

Check out my masterlist ;)

Most recent release: Second chances



Definitions: noun; A currently circulating story or report of uncertain or doubtful truth usually spread by word of mouth.

Keep reading

treat you better ☆ jjk

genre: fluff n angst

pairing: jungkook x reader, jaebum x reader

a/n: first fic whaaa


“I swear to god, it’s true! Just ask Jimin!” Jungkook choked out between his laughs. You could hardly believe this tall tale. “Really? Why did Taehyung have porn on his phone in the first place?” you giggled. Jungkook waved his hand around. “Teenagers, man.”

“He’s older than you.”

“Shut up please and thank you.”

And that’s when your phone rang. Jaebum. And there were already a few missed calls and texts from him. Oh god.

where r u???

Jungkook could clearly see how uncomfortable and worried you looked and cocked his head questioningly. You showed him some of the messages sent to you

jaebum 🌹 14:39

where r u

jaebum 🌹 14:39

pick up ur fucking phone

jaebum 🌹 14:40

or don’t. find somewhere else to sleep tonight :)

Jungkook was clearly pissed. He knew Jaebum hated him. Of course there would be jealousy between him and his best friend’s boyfriend. But he couldn’t believe your own significant other could treat you so horribly. “You’re staying at my place tonight.” he muttered. You quickly shook your head. “Jungkook, no, it’s fine. I’ll talk it out with him. Plus, I really don’t want to just crash at your place unannounced.” But Jungkook was having absolutely none of it.

“That bastard won’t listen to logic, you know, right?” He shook his head. He stood up and went to pay for your coffees. You were holding back tears at this point, rereading the three messages. He couldn’t be serious. Meeting for coffee with your best friend is now grounds for getting kicked out? Jaebum always had a fiery temper, and you’d lie if you said you didn’t find it attractive, to see him take control. But this was next level.

“Hey, (Y/N), let’s go. Come on, we can order a pizza later or something.” Jungkook said, taking your hand. You nodded, gathering your stuff and following him out of the cafe.


Curled up on the couch asleep against him, Jungkook stared directly ahead of him, just lost in his thoughts. As he rubbed circles into your back, he replayed the events of the past 20 minutes in his head. You two came home, he ordered a pizza, and you cried your bloody heart out to him. After you got everything off your chest, you fell asleep on his. He couldn’t fucking believe Jaebum. Jungkook knew, he bloody knew he could definitely treat you better than your sad excuse of a boyfriend. He’d been harbouring a gigantic crush on you since you were six. He felt the need to protect you, since you were shorter than him and younger by a year. He still felt the same.

The doorbell rang, and his head turning towards the door woke you up. “Huh?” you muttered, still in a daze. “It’s probably Jaebum,” you said, sitting bolt upright. “Shh, no. It’s the pizza guy. Go grab some Fanta from the fridge, I’ll go get it.” He pushed himself off the couch and rooted for his wallet, while you walked off to the kitchen. He opened the door, money in hand, only to see Jaebum’s friend Yugyeom. “Where’s (Y/N)? I know she’s most likely here,” he said. That fucking coward Jaebum couldn’t even come to get his own girlfriend? After shutting the door in Yugyeom’s face, he walked into the living room with five words repeating in his head like a mantra.

I could treat you better.

a/n: this will most definitely have a part two and even three!! stay tuned for more!!

BTS reaction to their crush being a chemist

requested by anon


Jin would see all the possibilities for chemistry puns and roll with it.

“Are you 11 protons? Because you are sodium fine.”


“Hey I just told a chemistry joke, but there was no reaction!”

*eyebrow wiggle*

“I swear to god, Jin.”

*Imagine being kookie*

Originally posted by missbaptan


Yoongi would have a special interest in your expertise.

“So, what you are trying to say is that you have the knowledge to kill all my enemies, but you refuse to give it to me?”

“Yoongi, I can’t use my super powers for evil.”

*softly, but with a lot of feeling*


Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned


“Damn babe, goggle marks never looked better on anyone.”

“You have a strange way of flirting, Kim Namjoon.”

“Well it’s true. Don’t even get me started on that lab coat. You’re not supposed to look good in those and yet you do!”

Originally posted by fyeahbangtaned


Hobi would be jealous that you spend more time in the lab than with him.

“You keep talking about the periodic table! Even in your sleep! Do you even know my favorite ice cream?”

“Your favorite ice cream is chocolate, you love flowery laundry detergent and you are allergic to peanuts. Satisfied?”

“Damn, you’re good… I can’t even be mad.”

Originally posted by missbaptan


Jimin would find your job very interesting and would want to see your workplace.

“Jimin you can’t, my lab is full of dangerous chemicals and contagious matter!”


Originally posted by ultranicolet


Tae would get you to do little experiments with the kids from the neighborhood and encourage them to show interest in science.

“Thanks for doing this!”

“I’d never pass on a chance to get little boys and girls interested in science!”

Originally posted by bwipsul


Kookie would also be very interested in your job for… his own reasons.

“So, you’re saying if I happen to stumble over some chemical in your lab that I won’t get super powers?”

“Yup, sorry. Hate to ruin your Super Kook fantasy.”

*on the verge of tears*

“It’s fine… just… could you leave me alone… for a minute?”

Originally posted by baracindy

-Admin Krümmel


Polly and Jason were in love. Really in love. In fact they were going to elope or something of the sort. But when the Cooper parents found out, they freaked. No daughter of theirs was going to marry a Blossom! So they said Polly was damaged. Broken. And sent her off. Jason somehow got into contact with Polly. They planned her escape and set a rendezvous. Sweetwater River. Other side. Everything was set. But, what they didn’t know was that the Coopers knew about their plan. The Coopers made sure that Polly couldn’t get out. But they couldn’t risk another plan like this. So, Mr. Cooper decided to take matters into his own hands. He went to the rendezvous and killed Jason. I SWEAR TO GOD IF THIS TURNS TO BE TRUE YOU PEOPLE BETTER REMEMBER YOU READ IT HERE FIRST.

The River

Jughead Jones x Reader

Sweetwater River. Everyone had stopped visiting the river, due to the Jason Blossom shit. The once pure and comforting river is now full of secrets. The rushing water holds a meaning for each person in town. Most a terrible reminder of Jason, but for me, it holds a good one.

Sweetwater River is a place no one goes beside me. Just me and my thought alone. I seem to be alone often nowadays. One day I was laughing with Archie, Betty, Veronica, Kevin, and Jughead. Then the next, everyone hated me somehow. No more girls nights. No more listening to Archie’s songs. No more Pops. All thanks to Jughead.

I whipped my head around as I heard footsteps in the distance. Considering Jason was murdered around here and his killer hasn’t been caught, this wasn’t the safest location. I carefully walked, making sure to be aware of my surroundings. Picking up a rock, I turned a corner holding the rock up for defense. I saw a figure crouching down, back turned to me. Swinging my arm back to throw, I inched closer.

“Jughead?” I question upon seeing the familiar beanie, my arm dropped to my side. His green eyes widened, clearly, he thought he was the only one by the River. It makes sense that he’s here. He has told me on many occasions about his investigations before.

“Y/n” He sighed. Jughead walked closer to me “What are you doing here?”

“I was watching the River. As I always do. You remember, don’t you” The last sentence laced with venom, paired with a glare.

~Flashback to before Jason was murdered~
The bell for the 2nd period ended and (Y/n) walked over to Jughead, spring in their step. The green-eyed boy smiled once he saw (Y/n) approach him while he unlocked his locker.

“Jug, me and you are going to the river after school.” They said with confidence before walking to 3rd period
Jughead waited outside the school, leaning on the back of the school, one foot propped up against the wall. (Y/n) came up to him, waving.

“Hey, let’s go to Sweetwater.” They said grabbing the boy’s hand and dragged down a path that leads to a nice place by the water to sit. They sat down making small talk and Jughead contribution his sarcastic humor.

“I don’t know if I could survive in this town without you, Juggie. I swear Riverdale’s cursed.”

“Well I’m glad someone cares about me,” he said in his signature tone but his eyes showed that he was thankful for the comment.

“Really, Your dry and witty humor get me through math class. Besides getting yelled at to stop talking to each other almost every day.”

Jughead nodded his head and turned out to look at the running water. He picked up a stone, feeling how smooth it was. Standing up, he skipped the rock across the river.

They both sat there until Jughead broke the silence, “Why’d we come here”

(Y/n) thought a moment before responding, “I come here when I’m sad or whatever. I just wanted you to know this place too.”
(Y/n) turned over and stared into Jugs eyes until his face inched closer and their lips met.
“Jughead!” (Y/n) yelled the next day, having been ignored all day.
“What.” he snapped not making eye contact.
“Are we going to talk about yesterday?” No response.
“I guess not.” (Y/n) said stomping off.

~Flashback End~
“Of course I remember, you’re my best friend,” Jughead stated.

“Best friends don’t ignore each other for months and convince everyone to hate them all at once, Jughead.”

“That’s not true, (Y/n). You know it isn’t.”

“Oh really? Care to explain why everyone hates me now?” I snapped “Reggie is literally the only one who gives a damn about me, and we weren’t even good friends.”

“(Y/n) please.” Jughead pleaded

“Jug, I swear to God the next word out of your mouth better be an explanation,” I said sternly, my eyes piercing daggers at him.

He sighed and looked at the floor, avid not to give an answer.
“Oh, I know! You kissed me and realized you liked Betty better, which is fine until you decide to ignore me because you can’t be a fucking man and then, you somehow get all my friends to HATE me, Jughead.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want this to happen, it’s just Betty..”
“Jughead, this isn’t about Betty in the slightest.”
I looked down to the ground not letting the former friend that has seen me cry so many time see my tears this once.

“Goodbye, Jughead.” I ran off as far as my legs would take me, happening upon an open spot with a view to Sweetwater River. Letting the waves calm me, I leaned against a tree, crying over the person I loved more than anything.

Hokay so

When I was 11 or so I went to a camp that was in the woods

And I became friends with these people who were SUPER into ghost hunting

So, everyday, we would go into the woods and try to summon Jeff The Killer so we could talk to him (idk we were dumb 11 year olds)

I am positive that I could see Jeff, because I would actually see him looking at us behind trees and stuff, anyways

And I became pretty close to this girl who was Filipino, and whenever I would get freaked out because holy shit Jeff was watching us behind that tree

She would stand in front of me and start CUSSING JEFF OUT IN TAGALOG OH MY GOD IT WAS GREAT

She told me that she was saying ‘you pussy ass bitch you better not fucking kill us I swear to God’ or something to that extent

It was fantastic

madeoficeandfire  asked:

Did Allen already start with the tattoo or this was something he got during the story? Does Kanda lie awake at night staring at the ring when he and Allen are separated??? Does Allen kiss Kanda's ring finger when they are finally together and Kanda has finished scolding him???

1. Did Allen already start with the tattoo or this was something he got during the story?

Allen got his body injuries in the day when Mana died in the fire & explosion which happened because of fire (white hair, burned scars on the left hand  + a scar from a shard of glass on his face). He was 10. Tattoos were a gift on his own sixteenth birthday - Allen was just so tired of seeing how other people are gazing at his scars, so he decided that it’s better to make people gaze at his cool tattoos, not at his scars. He met Kanda when he was 24 (while Kanda was 26), so yup, the story began already with a tattoo. 

(well, it’s only Allen thought Mana died) (he’s actually not dead) (not yet lol) (Cross kill him many years later) (bc Mana is bad) (the one who’s dead is Neah) 

2. Does Kanda lie awake at night staring at the ring when he and Allen are separated???

Honestly, he can do it even when Allen sleeps beside him, lies on the other side of the bed. He just can’t believe that it’s real. It’s really so weird for him, after all these lonely and empty years after loosing Alma, being like a normal people, being loved again and just?? live a normal live?? Sometimes he feels guilty before Alma, like he’s betraying him or something of that kind, but then he remembers that Alma always wanted him to be happy. So then he stares at the ring again, because how the fuck this stupid beanspout can be his spouse that’s ridiculous and awful and true oh my god i’m gonna kill him i swear (no)

(and also Kanda has some problems with his self-esteem - he knows he has a shitty temper, sometimes he just afraid that Allen can find someone better, because Allen is Prince Charming and Kanda… well, Kanda is angry nervous asshole, and no beauty can make someone tolerate all this trash in his head, besides Kanda never actually knew what he should do with his beauty

3. Does Allen kiss Kanda’s ring finger when they are finally together and Kanda has finished scolding him???

ohmygawajshfjsgdfjkgsd that’s so fucking adorable and sweet ;_; 

Kanda would have probably blushed like a strawberry and tried to punch Allen, and Allen would have laughed and silenced Kanda’s embarrassed swearing with a kiss

‘It’s a little bit late for swearing, you dumbass, you’re mine now’

all’s fair in love and war

Request: Could you write a rivalry!gyuhao high school AU? like for example they fight a lot and the whole school knows about their rivalry haha

Thanks for the request! I had so much fun writing this and I hope I did your request justice haha :) I hope you enjoy!

- Admin J

Summary: There are some things in the world that one just has to accept as fact. Like that the ocean is blue, or that the sun is bright, or that Kim Mingyu and Xu Minghao absolutely despise each other. But is it really that simple?

Warning(s): Like one curse word but it’s pretty tame lmao

It goes like this. Kim Mingyu and Xu Minghao have never gotten along, not since Minghao transferred to the school sophomore year, three years ago. No one knows the reason why, but they do know that the two never stop arguing. Rumor has it that Mingyu bullied Minghao when he first transferred, but that’s unlikely given Mingyu’s good reputation. Rumor has it that Minghao stole the attention of a girl Mingyu was crushing on, hence their animosity, but even that’s a little far-fetched. Rumor has it that they just hate each other, and from what the student body can see, that’s probably not too far off.

“Kim Mingyu? Xu Minghao? You’ll be partners for today.”

The whole class falls silent, save for the teacher continuing to read off her list of partners. Heads turn to look between the two boys, grimaces forming as the other students take note of the glares the two are already sending each other across the room.

“Is there a problem here? Mingyu? Minghao?” the teacher asks from her position at the front of the room, finally taking note of all the gazes trained on the two students.

“Oh, no, no problem at all ma’am, sorry for the disruption,” the two report dutifully, forcing the glares and scowls off their faces and plastering smiles on in their place. The second the teacher nods in approval and looks away, however, they’re back to scowling at each other, and the students let out a collective sigh.

There’s only one way this can possibly go.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

3. Like I said, you all must believe that you are God himself, putting me through trial and errors and judging me, acting like you have some kind superiority complex over me, like you think your better then me. Swearing up and down that you had to teach me life lessons that I had already known. None of you actually know me or directly speak to me, so you'll never know my true character. Maybe you wanted to push me to a point where I just left, right? That was your goal.

I found #3 and it doesn’t clear anything up. I still can’t find #1. I am so beyond confused by this string of messages.


Quite the Hold | Theo Raeken Imagine ft. Scott McCall

request ; Request? One where scott has to tap into your memory like he does with corey because you saw something, and theo your boyfriend gets really mad at scott because you’re hurt after it. And theo shoves scott or something Sorry if it seems weird just thought it might be a cool scene ily

a/n ; this reminded me of that saying i always see on tumblr “asshole to the world but never towards your girl” so just take this imagine like that. 

Theo watched uncomfortably as you tied your hair up into a bun, preparing to let Scott tap into your memories. You weren’t quite sure what the process entailed, but Theo did, and he was dead set against it. In fact, he had tried to sneak out of your house and take his car with him so that you had no means of getting yourself to Scott’s house, but you caught your meddling boyfriend before he could try anything. He meant well, you knew, but this was necessary for the future of the pack. 

Scott entered his living room once again to find Theo scowling at him already, and he hadn’t even begun the process. Scott grimaced in response, shooting both of you a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine, I promise,” Scott told you, patting your shoulder. The comment was more for Theo than for you, but you gave him an appreciative smile all the same. Theo crossed the room to stand next to you, pulling Scott off to the side for a minute. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Theo said, his eyes darting back to you. You were picking at one of your nails, seemingly calm about Scott digging his claws into the back of your neck and accessing your memories. “It’s not safe. She’s only human, Scott. I don’t want her getting hurt. I saw what you did to Corey, and it hurt him, a powerful Chimera.” 

“Look, Theo, I swear Y/N’ll be fine. It won’t even hurt that much. I wasn’t in a good place when I tapped into Corey’s memories,” Scott admitted, causing Theo’s nerves to spike up again, “but this time it will be different.” Theo begrudgingly let Scott make his way back over to where you were sitting on the couch, standing behind you with his claws now fully extracted. Theo heard a brief rise in your heartbeat when you saw them come out, but you gave the Scott the go-ahead before your overprotective boyfriend could do anything. 

“I’m ready, go for it,” you said confidently. Theo squeezed your hand, but his entire body seized up when he saw Scott plunge his claws into the soft skin on the back of your neck, a gasp of shock escaping your lips. Theo immediately dropped your hand, his eyes narrowing as he analyzed each of Scott’s movements, and yours. At first, your eyes were screwed shut, as if that was helping the pain, but then they flew open, and a quiet groan of pain could be heard throughout the room. 

Give him a few seconds, Theo reasoned with himself, trying to dial down the aggressiveness he felt like displaying at that very moment. He’ll probably be stopping any second now. But he didn’t. Not until your hands were trembling and your eyes were watering and the pain you were feeling was nearly unbearable. Scott finally let go, his eyes shifting back from blazing red to their usual warm brown, his claws vanishing. Theo breathed a sigh of relief, about to thank Scott for not being so hard on you when he noticed that you were rubbing your eyes frantically and trying to calm yourself down. 

Theo walked around to the back of the couch, pushing your head back so he could see your neck, which was bleeding profusely, puncture wounds evident. He turned your face so you were looking at him, anger practically seeping through his pores, though his voice remained as steady as he could manage. “He hurt you, didn’t he?” 

“N-no, it’s not that bad, really,” you protested, though your heartbeat gave you away. And Theo knew you too well. Theo let out one deep, shaky breath before gently letting go of your cheek, turning toward Scott, who was staring at the both of you with wide eyes and a guilty expression. 

“Y/N I-I didn’t mean to…you know I would never, I’m so sorry,” Scott said, looking extremely upset with himself. Theo didn’t even notice the boy’s face, he was blind with rage. He hurt you. You

“You didn’t mean to?” Theo demanded, grabbing the front of Scott’s shirt in his curled fist and nearly lifting him off the ground. While Scott was the True Alpha and infinitely powerful, a werewolf consumed by rage because someone hurt his mate was possibly even more dangerous. “That doesn’t mean shit.” Theo roughly shoved Scott away from him, sending him spiraling into the bookshelf across the room. “You promised you wouldn’t let her get hurt. And yet you’re the one who hurt her.” 

Scott stood up shakily, shaking his head at Theo. “Theo, I swear to God, I didn’t want to hurt. She offered to give us the information and I thought I had better control over this whole memory thing-” 

“That’s not the point!” Theo yelled, his voice resonating throughout the entire house, and possibly the next few houses down. That was when you stood up, neck no longer bleeding, though the scratches were there and they weren’t modest. You grabbed Theo’s arm, but he simply shook you off, not even caring that you were there and calling his name out urgently. He could barely even hear you. “The point is that you don’t touch my fucking girlfriend! You don’t hurt her. No one hurts her. So don’t think that you can get away with it because you’re the Alpha. That’s not how it works.” 

“Theo, he gets it, okay? It wasn’t that bad,” you insisted, tugging at his arm insistently. He blinked a few times, finally realizing that you were there. 

“Are you sure? They won’t heal as fast…” Only you could manage to calm that boy down from a rage like that, which was a blessing and a curse in itself. “I-I didn’t like that, Y/N, you were bleeding, and crying, and that’s not okay. Ever. If anyone hurts you, I’m the one who kicks their ass. That’s how it works.” 

“You don’t have to hurt Scott. He didn’t mean it. And the scratches will heal, just not as fast. It’s fine. I wanted the pack to have the information they needed. That was the whole point of this.” He nodded, his cheeks flushed an embarrassed red. “Could you go apologize to him now?” 

“…I guess,” he muttered, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek. Then, he apologized to an amazed Scott, helping the boy up and giving him a pat on the shoulder, apologizing a second time when he realized that the bookcase had been destroyed in Theo’s fit of overprotective rage. 

“You really have a hold on that boy,” Scott told you as Theo went into the bathroom to find you some bandaids and disinfectant. 

“Trust me, he has a quite hold on me as well. I just love him a lot,” you replied, not even hesitating to say those words before plopping down next to an equally exhausted Scott. Theo just grinned to himself in the bathroom, holding a box of bandaids in one hand and a cold washcloth in the other, happy that you were just as taken with him as he clearly was with you. 


Request- I was wondering can you do an imagine where Ethan is your boyfriend but Nate likes to flirt with you to get Ethan pissed. Please

Warnings- Jealousy

Disclaimer- GIF creds go to owner

A/N- Ethan is so adorable. He shall be protected at all costs.

Requested by- @danimartinez29

Pairing- Ethan x Dani

Fandom- Dolan Twins

Word count- 620


Originally posted by the-dolan-twins-fans


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*jake and amy kiss*

me: that is the most perfect kiss i’ve ever seen in my whole life i will never see anything better than this ok there is no media content in the world that can top what seems like the greatest display of affection broadcast on national television, the true epitome of love and tenderness, my favourite thing in the universe… just and simply The Best

*jake and amy kiss again*

me: that is the most perfect kiss i’ve ev

Monotone Hands

Warnings: None. But you’ll drown in the fluff tbh

Word Count: 2,757

Pairing: Phan, as usual.

Summary: (Highschool!Phan)

Phil Lester knew two things:

1) The boy with monotone hands sat next to him in Literature.

2) He was falling in love with the giant dork.

          Monotone hands. Bright face, shrouded by a cloud of smoke and boredom. Dark jumpers and grey jeans. I swear, he’s colorless. The colorless boy sitting next to me in Advanced Literature. The boy who would come in every single day with hands covered in swirls of grays and whites and blacks, and sometimes he would just stare at them for the entire period, and smudge the acrylics with his thumb. As if he wanted them to fade away forever.

I think his name is Dan. At least that what the roll calls him. Well, no, they call him Daniel, but he always corrects it to Dan. Just Dan.

      I’m interested in him. Not necessarily in a romantic perspective, but maybe in a curious way. I wanted to know why he was so grey. I wanted to know why his lips were always chapped, where he got that scar on his knuckle from.

I’m guessing he takes art. He had that kind of look, like he sees the world differently than everyone else. I notice, sometimes, that he doodles. In this little notebook that he slides into a satchel at the end of the hour as chairs squeak on the floor. They’re wonderful, the drawings, little pieces of life on a thick sheet of watercolor paper. People, birds, plants. Little things with big stories.

It was nearing fall, that kind of weather where it was too humid to wear a sweater but too cold to wear a t-shirt, and leaves crunch underneath your feet wherever you go. The bell had already rung, Mrs Whitaker had already started the lesson, and I was worried. No, I was so much more than worried. I was anxious.

Dan never missed a lesson. Never. He was the kind of person that showed up with a canteen of tea and a pack of tissues and worked through the day sick. I could tell, he had done it a lot this year. Maybe he just does it so he can go to Art.

It had already been thirty minutes into the loud period when Dan shuffled into the room, a steaming coffee in one of his hands, a bright orange pass clutched in the other. The class went quiet as he handed Mrs Whitaker the slip and sat down carefully in his assigned seat next to me. The class went back to the previous state of loud laughter and chattering.

I stared at his hands. No paint. No monotone. I furrowed my eyebrows, shortly after thinking a small fuck it, and ripped a piece of paper out of my binder and scribbled a note on it. I let it fall over Dan’s notebook.

He glanced over at me, quirking an eyebrow. I didn’t look back until he read the note and passed it back to me. His handwriting was messy and connected, while mine seemed to be neat. I almost laughed. My handwriting was shit, but I guess it isn’t as slanted as his.

“Why no paint?” I had written, and he responded,

“On my hands? I skipped art. Why do you care?”

“I’ve never seen you without it,”

He ripped up the paper, letting it fall to the far too clean floor.

I didn’t send him any more notes.


      The next day, there was an odd tension in the air between Dan and I. I could tell that he was glancing at me from the corner of my eye. I hope he couldn’t tell I was too. His hands were back to monotone, most of it being grey. My heart panged. I had messed up. The one chance that I had to understand, I blew. Great.

       I sighed at the notes in my binder. There were only a couple messy sentences and scribbles from testing pens. Shit. I had zoned out, and now Mrs Whitaker was talking about some completely different subject, how titles affect the whole story, or something. Perfect.

I pursed my lips and shut my eyes. Either fail the major test about this at the end of the semester, or ask Dan for his notes. I didn’t have any other friends in Advanced Literature-

Dan slid his notebook slightly over to my desk space. I glanced at him. He wasn’t looking at me, Just staring at the front of the classroom. I let out a tiny sigh of relief and started to copy his notes. I wasn’t going to complain, and Dan had obviously slid them over to show me.

His handwriting did suck, though.


      Christmas came and passed, half-term tests were struggled through, and every day in Advanced Literature Dan shared his notes. Even if I didn’t need them, he always made sure to turn his notebook a bit so I could read his slanted, shitty handwriting.

Maybe he thought he was making up for ripping up that note. Maybe he was just being nice. Either way, I was happy for his help. I really was struggling in that class.

But today was different. When he slid his notebook between us, there was a couple words squished in the margin.

Sorry about the note.

I pursed my lips. So that’s what this is about. I reached over and wrote beneath it.

No problem, but you owe me.

As if.


He let out a chuckle, before glancing down at my shirt, and whispering, “You like Muse?”

“Who in their right mind wouldn’t like Muse?” I mumbled back, trying not to get caught by the teacher.

I could’ve sworn that Dan had mumbled, “I’m so glad I tore that note.”


          A couple months later, and Dan and I had been talking every day, and gotten to know each other so well they could recite exactly what the other’s schedule was, who the teacher is, and if they hate the class on a scale from one to ten. I knew that Dan’s favorite color was grey, but he always said red, people wouldn’t look at him odd. I knew that Dan’s favorite jumper was a big black one that covers his hands and nearly falls off of his shoulders. His lips were always chapped because he has a bad habit of biting them, and he got that scar on his knuckle because he broke a glass table as a kid. I knew that he hated the way that his dad would work late and the way that his mother would plaster on a fake smile when she talked to the neighbors. I knew that Dan’s eyes seemed to have a couple specks of gold peeking out of the color of milk chocolate. I knew that he hated the way that his soft brown hair was curly, so he straightened it, even though I always tell him how nice it looks curled.

And I knew that I was falling for the boy with monotone hands.

      We were sitting in his bedroom on a weirdly cold Saturday, him laughing at some  stupid joke that I just made, and my eyes were glued to him. He was sitting at his overflowing desk, covered in lead and paint and sticky notes. I couldn’t help but notice the way that he covers his mouth with his hand, the way that he hunches over, shoulders shaking. He grinned at me and stood up.

“Oh, yeah,” He started, flopping next to me on his bed, “Can you model for some art shit tomorrow? I need to paint someone for a huge project, and I think it would be kinda awkward asking someone else,”

“Sure,” I said, ignoring the way that my stomach was in knots at the fact that our shoulders are bumping on the mattress, and that our knees were touching. His bed was far too small for two gangly teenage boys.

      I glanced at his hands. There were faint stains of black and grey, and I still didn’t know their reasoning. At first, I thought it was a kind of aesthetic thing, but after knowing Dan for a while, I knew that it was so much more than that.

“Dan?” I asked.

“What?” He replied, picking up my hand, playing with my fingers. Another thing I learned about Dan in these past months is that he liked touching. He liked throwing his legs over me when he sits on the couch sideways, he likes it when our shoulders touch. It’s not like I was going to complain.

But I couldn’t help the way that my heart seemed to break every time I couldn’t kiss him.

“Why are your hands always grey?”

He paused for a second, then continued to play with my hand.

“I don’t know. I just like to paint in black and white, I guess,”

“No, that’s not it. You suck at lying, Howell,” I snorted, turning to him. He glanced at me, before looking at the ceiling.

“I… I don’t know,” He mumbled, “It’s just that everything seems so grey right now. I’m sure it will get better, but… I just don’t know.”

      I swear to god, with every word that he said, my heart broke bit by bit until it shattered into a million pieces. What they say is true, about how you can feel the pain in your chest. All I could do was grab Dan and pull him into a hug. He laughed into my chest weakly, and wrapped his arms around me as well, and rambled, “Phil, I’m sure I’m fine. It’s okay.”

But it just wasn’t.


       The next day, I showed up at Dan’s front step, shivering as I rang the doorbell. I pulled my arms tighter to myself. It was far too cold to be spring.

“Oh, hello Phil,” Mrs Howell said, opening the door with her usual smile, “Come in. Dan’s upstairs.”

“Thanks.” I mumbled, giving her a weak smile before rushing to Dan’s room. For some reason, she always seemed to be way too strict.

“Hey,” I said, opening the door to Dan’s room, shutting it behind me and plopping down on his bed shortly after kicking my shoes off and throwing my coat over Dan’s head. He wrinkled his nose at me, chuckled, and threw the coat over a shelf.

“I’m just about ready,” Dan responded, “Can you sit in the chair?” He gestured over to his desk, setting up an easel with the sound of metal against metal. I sat in the leather desk chair, swirling around once, to meet a grinning Dan staring right at me.

“What?” I ask, squinting at him, stomach erupting in butterflies.

“Nothing, you absolute nerd,” He chuckles, before grabbing a medium sized canvas and setting it on the easel, sitting down on a tall stool that always sits in the corner of his room.

His room was amazing, a cozy shade of warm grey and covered in little pieces of paper filled with doodles and notes. His bed was always messy and covered in quilts faded with age; There was a small bookshelf that was overflowing onto the ground and covered in cups of tea. Some posters were sitting along the walls, rolled up, forgotten. The ground was a white kind of fluffy carpet that your feet sunk into. A slight sign of youth through little plushies that were thrown on the desk and shelf littered with art supplies.

I pulled my knees to my chest, staring at Dan as he pulled out brushes and acrylics. He was a wildfire. Blaring heat that seemed to sting your eyes, a strange kind of beauty that mystified millions. He was out of control, terrifying even, but utterly gorgeous.

“Alright,” Dan started, pushing his fringe out of his eyes and off of his forehead, (Jesus. He even had a pencil behind his ear.) “Get however you’d like. I’m just going to sketch you out first, and then paint. It’ll take a while,”

“I’m fine here,” I pulled my knees tighter to myself. Dan grinned, and tugged the pencil out behind his ear, and started to sketch. I closed my eyes.

And I could feel myself falling for the boy with monotone hands even farther.


“Do you want to take a break?” Dan whispered into the silence an hour later, “I’m done with sketching.”

I shook my head no, keeping my eyes shut.

“Good,” He said softly, “I didn’t either.”

I could feel his grin from here.


         The hazy heat of the late afternoon sunshine was warm on my face, and I could hear the soft brushing of Dan working on his canvas, and the leather was soft and comforting against my back. I sighed, letting out a lazy smile.

“We’ve been doing this for six hours, Phil,”

“I’m fine, are you?”

“I’m… I’m the happiest I’ve been in a while.”

I opened up my eyes, adjusting to the brightness in the room, before looking over at him. He was grinning lazily, hair still pushed back, little smudges of paint on his face. My heart skipped a beat and my stomach twisted into knots. He looked so warm.

“I think I’m done,” Dan whispered, looking at the canvas, and wiping his brush on a little cloth that he had sat on a shelf beside him.

“Can I see?” I say, and stretch out of my position in the chair.

“‘Course,” He replied, standing up, and smiling at me, “Thank you, so much,”

“I loved doing it, Dan.”

I walk over to the easel, and all I could do was grin. So, so wide that my mouth hurt and my eyes crinkled.

Dan had painted me so well it was like a photograph, in warm sunlight on a cracked leather chair, knees pulled up to my chest, eyes closed. I was smiling like I knew a secret, and my hair was messy. My jumper was too big for my body, slightly falling off my shoulders. He even painted the mismatching patterns on my socks.

And I was full of color.

My jumper was green and my eyelids and cheeks were a soft pink. Golden sunlight hit my face. My socks were purple and red and my jeans were blue. I seemed to have an aura of color, and all around me was grey, and black, and white.

But I was so, so bright.

I turned to Dan, tears coming to the rim of my eyes. He was looking at me with a nervous-giddy expression, eyes crinkled in a half-smile.

“I swear to god, everything is so bright with you around,” Dan whispered, grin growing.

“I’m so glad you ripped up that note,” I replied, pulling him by his collar, pulling his lips to mine.


“Com’on, Lester, move your ass!” Dan laughed at me, pulling my arm, “I have something to show you,”

“Five years, Dan, and you’re still a pain,” I smirked, and he quickly replied,

“You love me. Keep your eyes closed. It’s a surprise.”

I let out a huff, grinning, as he continued to tug my arm around a corner, and through a couple doorways, from what I could tell, until we came to a stop, in a more crowded room.

“Okay, open.”

My eyes blinked open, and my hands immediately went to my mouth, eyes already watering.

In a large plaque at the top of a clean, white wall, was the words Daniel James Howell imprinted in large letters, and below it, was what must have been fifty paintings. And in the center, was the one that he had painted exactly five years ago.

All around that one portrait was paintings full of color. Lush green forests and loud cities and landscapes and rooms, and around the edge of the wall were a couple black and white paintings of people and buildings. All of them so well done, it was almost like a photograph. It was like I was giving the world color.

At the bottom of the wall, written in Dan’s shitty handwriting,

I swear to god, everything is so bright with you around.

Philip Michael Lester, will you marry me?

       I spin around in the crowded room full of murmurs, but all I could see was the boy with vivid, colorful hands, eyes crinkling at the corners, down on one knee, holding a little velvet box with a golden band inside. His hands were covered in different colors of paint, greens, blues, purples, pinks, reds, yellows.

I nod, words getting stuck in my throat, before escaping, in a quiet,

“Of course, you dork,”

And I sprint right into his arms, Dan giving a surprised noise, before pulling me into a kiss.

I could feel him smiling.

Jealousy and Reassurance

Requested: I was wondering if you could do an imagine where you get jealous of Shawn and Camila but he assures you that your the one he wants. Thanks ❤️



Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello getting cozy. The headline pops up in big letters on your phone, but you don’t bother reading it. You keep scrolling, trying to ignore it, but of course there is another, Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello spend hours alone in the studio together when you come across a third article about your boyfriend and the ex member of Fifth Harmony, you throw your phone on your bed, and actually decide to study to try and distract yourself from it. You know it is really bothering you because it is so rare for you to actually willingly choose to study when it isn’t the night before something is due.

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