tv speakers

Korean Langauge Learning Youtube Channels

These are language-learning-oriented or good channels to practice listening

dorrimer’s Makeup Korean Youtube Masterpost

Please feel free to add some you know or message me ones to add. 

Also let me know if a link is broken :)

List posted in my masterpost of all Korean-related resources

Sets that would be cool in ACNL:

- alien set (luminous green and purple)

- massive set (items are much bigger than usual)

- cloud set (self explanatory)

- diamond set (super expensive, translucent)

- country themed sets (e.g. England set, Australia set, Singapore set)

- cherry blossom set (could be obtained by shaking pink blossom trees)

-jello set - (items made of jello which wobble when you sit on them)

- mirrored set (every item is reflective)

- tiny set ( tiny pieces of furniture)

- caveman set (cute ‘cave’ style furniture e.g. rock bed, mammoth skin floor)

- human set ( e.g. lip speakers, eye TV, hand sofa)

anonymous asked:

We can't ask people to leave the store when we're closing. That's fine. If you've come in exactly on close to grab a cable and are in and out within about 1 minute, fine. If you come in five minutes before close, hang around while we turn off all the TVs, laptops, speakers etc. and then when we ask if you're alright ten minutes after we're closed, say, "I'm just looking thanks" you can die. Go and "just look" somewhere that's still open, where the staff are still getting paid to be there.

That’s when I turn off all the lights in the store and shine a flashlight on him “to help him shop” until he gets so uncomfortable he leaves.


Only If You Say So - Part One

Fandom: Gotham

Pairing: Jerome Valeska x Reader

Note: So, I realized that this fic is taking too bloody long and I decided to split it in two. This first part doesn’t have any smut like I know you’re all hanging out for, but it’s gonna set the mood so-to-speak. 

Warnings: Slightly graphic?

You were just sitting around eating takeout when your home phone rang. It was odd since hardly anyone ever called the house. Usually it was reserved for random parental calls that you only ever received more than once or twice a month. With a roll of your eyes, you paused the film you were watching and went to grab it, figuring you were due for some hour long lecture.

“Hello?” You answered.


Perking up at the voice on the other line, your brows shot up in excitement - a reaction that would never accompany a call from your parents.

“Jimmy!” You greeted, “What can I do for - “

“Turn on the TV.”

Your smile fell into an expression of concern. Something was wrong. You’d known Jim Gordon long enough to recognize the tone of worry in his voice without even being in the same room as him.

“What channel?” You asked, rushing back into the living room and picking up the remote.

“Any.” Is all he said.

The film switched off and suddenly the familiar face of the news lady filled your television screen. “As has been reported, Channel Nine’s van was stolen this evening,” she said, “We are now getting video from the thief which we will play in hope it leads to his apprehension.”

Suddenly the screen fuzzed out and static came from the speakers before a raspy voice called out;

“Testing, testing…”

Your eyes narrowed as the camera began to focus. “Jim, what’s going on?”

“Am I live?”

In a state of shock and dread, your body completely froze in front of your television screen, your hand clutched tightly around the remote as you stared into the familiar eyes of the ginger lunatic that you had known to be dead. Your breath caught in your throat and you readjusted your grip on your phone.

“Am I on air?”

“It’s Jerome.”

Can you hear me?”

At Jim’s confirmation, your legs buckled and you stumbled backwards into the couch behind you. The room seemed to spin and you drop the remote as you collapsed. Your breathing becomes more rapid, more shallow as you try to make sense of the situation. “How?”

“Dwight, he succeeded in bringing him back -”

“ - He can’t be back, Jim. I was there. He died. He just can’t - ”

“ - Ah, screw it. Let’s do it.”

You stared blankly at your TV, your body quivering in fright. Had it not been for his red hair and the way he danced around like the showman he was, you might not have been able to recognize him. His voice was scratchy and deeper than you remembered, and his face - oh Lord, his face.

Everyone had heard about the recent uprising of facepainted nutjobs running a muck in the streets of Gotham, and you knew that they seemed to be following in the footsteps of Jerome Valeska. You also knew that a man by the name of Dwight was among them; a crazed experimentalist whom had been involved in the resurrection of Fish Mooney, Theo Galavan and many more of Gotham’s recently deceased criminals. Even you hadn’t missed the broadcasted hijacking of Channel Nine earlier that day. You had been horrified to find that Dwight had cut off Jerome’s face and had worn it as a mask, but it seemed that Jerome was not ready to part with it just yet.

His face had been neatly stapled back on; the skin stretched as to fit over his mouth and eyes without flapping about. It looked like something out of a horror movie, and you weren’t entirely certain you weren’t living one.

“Some of you may know I died.” Jerome gave a disappointed little smile. “Ah oh. And take it from me; death is dull. But coming back, that is something. Leave it to dying to give you a whole new perspective on life and I’d like to share that with you.”

“Are you still there, (Y/N)?”

You watched as Jerome turned away from the camera and approached a man that had been tied up to several explosives and barrels of flammable liquids behind him. From what you could see it was Dwight. “Yeah,” You replied, “Yeah, I’m still here.”

Jerome wiped out a lighter from behind Dwight’s ear and twirled around to the camera, giving a little bow. “Tonight, Gotham, in the darkness there are no rules. So, tonight do what you want - kill who you want - ”

He suddenly started to choke, cutting himself off from his speech to clear his throat.

“ - and when morning comes,” he then set the flame to the fuse, “you too shall be…reborn.”

Then the cackle that had been haunting you since the day you had first met him echoed from the television speakers.

“Where is he, Jim?” You hissed into the phone. “Where?!”

“Power plant across the river from HQ,” said Jim, “We’re getting a helicopter now. Where are you?”

“At home,” you told him, your voice cracking. “Directly across the river from HQ. Jim, you aren’t going to make it. Jerome’s - ”

“Jesus, (Y/N),” Jim growled. “You’ve got to get out of there. He’ll be coming for - ”

Suddenly, like an earthquake, the ground beneath your feet shook and all power went out.

“Jim?” You tried. “Jim!”

Looking down at your phone, you saw that all bars had gone, including wifi. The TV died with a faint click and all lights within the house had turned off. Dropping your phone beside the remote, you bolted up and off the couch, quickly making your way to the front door. You knew there was no point in leaving; the power plant was only a few streets away, meaning Jerome could arrive in a matter of minutes, not long enough for you to escape down the street. Locking the door, you shoved the hallway cabinet in front, hoping to give yourself a little bit more time to find a decent hiding spot.

As you ran through the house, you finally realized the huge design flaw. There were absolutely no good places to hide. The closet and under the bed might have been why too cliche for this situation, but they were your only options. Looking between them, your mind whirled. Maybe there was still time…

You were wrong.

The first knock on your door was light and playful. The next was loud and demanding. Without a second thought you bolted to your closet, pulling the door open and shoving yourself inside to the very back, behind the coats, robes and dresses. Your heart raced in fear as you pressed your back against the wall, the dust tickling your nose as you disturbed your winter clothes that hadn’t been worn in what felt like ages. The throb of your own pulse and your uneven breath were the only sounds you could hear; the low buzz of electricity having been switched off by the explosion of the Power Plant.

You could hear the rattle of the door handle. Your heart jumped in your throat and your eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Then it stopped.

Then you heard the breaking of one of your windows.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Part Two

One And Only | M

SYNOPSIS: a sweet, unscripted make-out session with taehyung unexpectedly escalates into a concoction of breathy moans and fiery touches that makes you gasp for air. in a world where people are increasingly becoming unreliable, the two of you find solace in each other.

Originally posted by qt-taehyungssi

GENRE: university au, implied smut, 3012% still not for children eyes. mostly tender fluff.
PAIRING: taehyung kim x (fem.)reader
NOTES: this is for you, rian, all for you.

Today hasn’t been your best day. But it certainly hasn’t been your worst, either. On a mundane day, you can confidently say that you torture yourself by thinking of things that make your blood freeze; for example, if your friend is going to ask to borrow your horribly-taken chemistry notes that have too many pen-borne strike-throughs, and expect you to deliver. What if you haven’t begun that nagging statistics paper that you know will take you a solid week to finish, even if the due-date is no where near close? What if you have too many things to accomplish, that the very thought of even organizing a check-list seems daunting? You dare people to call you lazy; you probably are, but when you work, you work.

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anonymous asked:

any advice for improving listening comprehension? whenever i try to listen to tv in french everyone sounds like they're speaking at like 90mph

Well yeah, the people on tv are native speakers so of course they’re talking fast, just like native english speakers. My suggestion is to just start out with audio books of children’s books, those aren’t typically too fast. You could also try YouTube or songs, but songs aren’t always great. It’s really just one of those skills that you have to build up slowly through time and constantly strive to improve

Under the cut, you’ll find #100 gifs of the 27 year old American Miss Alaska USA 2017 Alyssa London, who is of Tlingit, Czech, and Norwegian ethnicity, as requested by Anonymous. These gifs are all 250x140 sized, textless, and roleplayable. All of these gifs had to be made by me (Natalie) so please abide by the gif pack rules you can find on my own rph here. Please like/reblog if you found this helpful.

TW: If you consider bikinis to be NSFW, there are four (4) gifs at the end where she is in one.

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Lucky Thirteen

“Dean! Sam! Come ooooooon!”

“What is she going on about now?” grumbles Dean, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looks at the clock, then groans. “Dammit Charlie, it’s not even noon! On a Sunday!” He pulls the sheet back over his head.

Footsteps pounding on the stairs and then a fist banging on the door let him know that his little sister isn’t giving up easily. “Come on, Dean!”  Her footsteps fade a bit as she stomps down the hallway to Sam’s room, then bangs on his door and yells again, “You too, Sam! Get downstairs! Federer won! It’s almost time!”

Dean is wondering what language his little sister is speaking when his door opens and her freckled face peeks through the opening. Before she can speak he growls, “Twelve year olds should be banished from existence, Charlie.”

She giggles. “You can’t get me down, big brother. It’s almost time! Come on!” Before he can ask what on earth she’s talking about she bounces from the room and down the stairs.

He’s about to settle back into his bed when his phone chirps. A text from Cas.

Did Charlie wake you up yet?

He quickly responds.

How did you know?


Wimbledon finished earlier than expected. The announcement of the thirteenth Doctor is imminent.

Dean can’t help but laugh. That’s what I get for having a nerd kid sister. He grins. And a nerd boyfriend. He sends:

Come over? You can help keep Charlie calm while she waits. Or I can keep both of you calm. ;)


Give me ten minutes.–

Thirteen minutes later the doorbell rings. Dean pushes himself away from the table and his just finished bowl of cereal. Sam look at him quizzically. “Cas,” Dean says. “He’s as crazy as Charlie. They can nerd out together.”

Sam nods dismissively. “I’ve never been able to figure out why the two of you are such good friends.” Sam says. “You’re such a jock. He’s such a…well, a nerd, like you said. He’s really much more like Charlie than like you.”

Dean is thankful he’s on his way out of the room so Sam can’t see his blush. He still hasn’t told Sam that he and Cas have been more than friends for about six months now. Sam is usually too observant for comfort, but he’s been wrapped up in his own stuff–AP classes, playing the lead in Macbeth, and now a summer class at the local junior college–and Dean doesn’t know if he’s grateful or tired of keeping secrets.

His confusion about Sam disappears when he sees the blue eyed boy smiling at him on his front porch. “Dean,” Cas says. Dean smiles and chances a kiss. Cas pulls away after only a moment, and Dean is puzzled, then laughs as realization hits. “You’re anxious to find out about the new Doctor, aren’t you.” It’s not a question.

Cas smiles. “Busted. But you can kiss me later, I promise.”

Dean grins. “I’ll hold you to that…”

In the family room Sam sits at the coffee table surrounded by textbooks. “Sam. Live a little. It’s Sunday,” says Dean.

Sam grunts. “Research. Ten page paper. Due Friday.”

“Ouch,” says Cas. “Didn’t you think of taking a break over the summer?”

“I’m trying to graduate early,” Sam says absently, completely focused on his book.

“Yeah, that’ll be great,” grumbles Dean. “Little brother graduating the same time as me…”

“Um, helloooooo,” interjects Charlie, hands on her hips. “I think we’re missing the big picture here. Biggest announcement of the year? New Doctor? Lucky thirteen?”

Dean reaches out to ruffle her already wild red hair, but she ducks away from his hand. “What are we all doing here anyway? Are we going to gather around your laptop and watch you click on ‘refresh’? It’s not like we can tune in to BBC One.”

Charlie makes a very unladylike noise. “Please. Piece of cake. Or,” she grins, looking at Dean, “maybe a piece of pie.” She attaches a few cables from her laptop to the tv, tap-tap-taps at the keyboard for about ten seconds, then shouts, “Yahtzee!” Sure enough, English accents are suddenly coming through the tv speakers, and Roger Federer’s smiling face fills the screen.

Dean looks at Charlie, eyes wide. “You are the scariest twelve year old I’ve ever seen.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she quips.

Cas, Dean, and Charlie settle onto the couch, but Charlie only sits for a few seconds before she jumps up and starts to pace. She nibbles on a thumbnail, tugs at her hair, and bounces on the balls of her feet, all while striding back and forth across the room. She looks at Cas, sitting calmly, and screeches, “How can you just sit there?!”

Cas grins and his eyes glint with mischief. “I was just like you when they announced Capaldi four years ago. When fourteen comes along someone will be asking you how you can be so calm.”

“I doubt that,” she grumbles. “And why does Capaldi have to go anyway? I love his gruff Scottish accent and his ‘attack eyebrows’!”

“He doesn’t do hugs, he says. Except when he does,” adds Sam.

“Am I the only one who doesn’t speak geek?” Dean asks.

Doctor Who is all about change,” Cas says, pointedly ignoring Dean and answering Charlie instead. “The companions change, the Doctor regenerates, even the TARDIS gets redecorated. But the Doctor’s heart and hope endure. He is always a madman in a box, and he always saves the day.”

Charlie freezes, mouth agape, then flings herself at Cas, wiping away tears. “Thank you, Castiel,” she blubbers into his shoulder. Dean meets Cas’s eyes over the top of Charlie’s head. “Thank you,” he mouths. Cas smiles.

Sam clears his throat. “I hate to break up this little, uh, whatever this is, but I think something is happening,” he says.

Charlie immediately focuses all her attention on the scene unfolding on the tv, lush and green. A hooded figure walking through the woods. A hand. A key. The sound of the TARDIS. The hood is pushed back…

Charlie screams.

“A girl! A girl! The Doctor is A GIRL!!!!” She leaps and dances through the room, high-fives Cas then pumps her fist in the air then climbs onto the coffee table–unmindful of Sam’s schoolwork–just to turn and dive at Dean, tackling him in a tangle of arms and legs and red hair. He yelps and she giggles and jumps up to run and dance some more. “The Doctor is a GIRL!” she shouts again. She runs back to Dean, kisses him on the cheek, and says, “Finally!

“So you’re happy, then?” asks Dean with a straight face.

Charlie fake punches him in the shoulder. “Duh. Twelve dudes. Well, thirteen, really, with the War Doctor. Over fifty years. It’s about time!”

“I think this is going to be great,” says Cas with a smile.

“Ugh, I can’t believe we have to wait until Christmas to actually see her in action! That’s over six months!” moans Charlie.

Dean stands up. “That’s our cue, Cas. Let’s get out of here before she ropes us into making a countdown calendar.”

As they climb the stairs they hear Charlie yell, “You know you can’t get out of watching it with me, big brother!”

Dean laughs. He knows. Charlie always gets what she wants.

“It’s nice to be alone,” Cas says softly, twining his fingers with Dean’s.

Dean kisses him softly. “Yeah,” he says.

They sit on the floor against Dean’s bed, stretching their legs into the long rectangle of sunlight splashed across the floor.

“Are you ever going to tell Sam about us?”

Dean groans. He wants to talk about this now?

“It’s not–I’m not ashamed or anything, you know that. I mean, Charlie knows. Mom and Dad know. Sam’s just…he gives me a hard time about everything. And now he’s taking all these extra classes, so we’re both going to be seniors in the fall…” Dean trails off, not really sure where he was going with the thought anyway. He just knows that he wants Sammy to be okay with this.

Cas squeezes Dean’s hand. “I know. I mean, I understand. It’ll work itself out eventually. I just don’t like sneaking around when I’m here, you know?”

Dean nods.

“Oh, Michael says hi, by the way. He called last night. He asked if you’re starting on the team this fall; he’s going to be in town for a few weeks and wants to come see you play.”

Dean grins. He plays forward on their school’s soccer team. “Hell yeah I’m starting. I’ve been practically killing myself all summer to get ready for the season.

Cas runs a hand up Dean’s arm. “Mmm. I can see that,” he practically purrs.

Dean groans and pulls Cas onto his lap. He falls into those blue eyes as their lips crush together, both of them hungry for the other.

Cas’s fingers are twisted in Dean’s hair when the door opens and they hear, “Can you two do something with Charlie? She’s bouncing around like a pinball, and I re–” Sam comes to sudden stop, mouth hanging open, when he sees the two boys attached at the lips.

“Oh,” says Sam, after an awkward pause. “Well. That explains a lot. You two make a lot more sense as boyfriends. This been going on long?”

Dean is too relieved by Sam’s easy acceptance to answer. Cas says, “A little over six months. We’re sorry we kept it from you. You had so much going on, with school and the play and all, we didn’t want to cause you any distress.”

Sam snorts. “You really think this,” he gestures at them, “is distressing? You should see Charlie right now. I’m concerned for my safety for the next six months. And for my school work. Seriously. Do you think maybe you two could take her out for ice cream or something? Or, I don’t know, take her to the park and make her run outside? I’m never going to get my paper written at this rate.”

“She’s not a puppy, Sammy,” says Dean, laughing.

“Don’t call me Sammy,” says Sam automatically.

“I’m always going to call you Sammy,” says Dean.

“I know,” sighs Sam.

Dean pulls Sam into a tight hug. “Thanks, Sammy…”

When they’re done, Cas puts his arm around Dean. “We’ll be down in a minute, Sam. Tell Charlie we’ll take her to the mall to see if we can find her a sonic screwdriver.”

Sam grins as he turns to walk down the stairs. “Are you trying to become her favorite brother?” he calls over his shoulder, laughing.

When Sam is gone Cas turns to Dean. “Feel better?”

Dean nods. “I guess we should thank Charlie. And maybe the Doctor too.” He smiles, then adds, “I guess thirteen really is lucky after all.”

Cas presses a kiss to Dean’s lips. He can’t argue with that.

This is kind of a gift for @starsinursa, who posted this a few days ago. It sort of got mixed up with a high school au I had in my head, I hope you don’t mind!

(Scroll down for English)

“Mình nhớ khi đó da ảnh siêu trắng, môi thì cong cong hồng hồng, người thì thơm nữa, con trai thời đó chỉ cần có vậy là thành hotboy rồi. Lần đó đám bọn mình làm 1 quầy bán hoa trước trường dịp 20-11 hay 20-10 gì đó, chỉ nhớ là trời lành lạnh, mưa lất phất. Ảnh qua phụ lặt vặt, dọn dẹp và treo bong bóng. Bạn có biết cái khoảng hở từ giữa rốn xuống cạp quần mỗi khi ai đó với tay lên cao, không quá lộ liễu nhưng đủ cho thấy thiên đường là gì không? Đúng rồi đó.

Đang ngắm thì á một tiếng, ngón tay ảnh bị gai đâm chảy máu, mình chạy lại xem có sao không thì ảnh rút mạnh tay ra, đi tới đứa bạn của mình rồi cả 2 xuýt xoa. Mình lấy xe đạp đi về luôn.

Ngày xưa làm gì có dàn âm thanh stereo hay tai nghe bluetooth này nọ, nghe nhạc vcd hay cd gì thì cũng nghe bằng loa TV thôi. Mà mỗi lần nghe như vậy thì TV phải bấm qua chế độ video màn hình xanh lè rất nhứt mắt. Mình nhớ là mình mặc bộ đồ đồng phục ướt mưa, nằm xuống sàn nghe nhạc, cái TV thì xanh tràn căn phòng, xanh luôn lên mình.

Tới lúc đó mình mới khóc.”

Translated by @Huyen Anh

“I remembered his rather pale complexion, his pink curvy lips and his pleasant fragance - he had all that it took to be a "hotboy” back then. We were setting up a flower stall at school for November 20th, October 20th or something of the sort (Vietnamese Teachers’ Day and Women’s Day respectively - translator’s note). I only remembered the cool freshness in the breeze and a gentle drizzle of rain. He was helping us out with the little chores like cleaning up and hanging some balloons. Do you know that gap between the belly button and the waist line which appears whenever someone tries to reach up, not too revealing but enough to show you a fallen piece of heaven? Yep that was it.

I was enjoying the view when “Ow!”, his finger was punctured. I ran up to him to check if he was fine only to have him forcefully free himself from my grasp and instead went to my friend where they both nursed the wound. I just grabbed my bike and went home.

Back in the days, there was no such thing as stereo, headphones nor bluetooth. The only way to listen to music was via TV speakers. With no video feed, the CRT shows a blue screen that would sting my eyes. I remembered lying down with my soaking wet uniform, listening to music, the blue of the screen engulfed the room and I with it.

And it was only then that I cried.”

Bold - Jaehyun (M)

Requested: can I request a Jaehyun smut of any kind idc I’m just thirsty for that boy God save me

A/N: Everyone is thirsty for Jae, bless up

Word Count: 1,239

You sat between Jaehyun’s legs on the couch, his muscular arms wrapped around you and his long legs caging you in. Your apartment was filled with silence as you both stared at your TV screen, waiting for something to happen. He chose a raunchy horror movie for you both to watch, so far it wasn’t too bad. Loud and long moans spilled from your TV speakers, your breath got caught as you stared at the screen.

“Why are they-”

Jaehyun clamped a hand over your mouth and shushed you. His fierce eyes were trained on the TV, watching everything. You squirmed a little, trying to get his heavy hand off your mouth. You felt his arms tighten around you to stop you as you brushed the small tent forming in his pants. Suddenly a ghoul popped up on the screen. You let out a muffled scream and you both flinched backward.

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Movie night- Fluff Week Day 4

This was kinda inspired by the klanro/shklance mini comic where Keith just doesn’t react to horror, like at all. So enjoy.
Movie night/Game Night

Shiro smiled at the sight of Lance standing outside the door, his overnight bag on his shoulder.

“Hi.” He gave Lance a quick kiss before leading him inside. “We weren’t sure if you’d be here. You’re lucky, we haven’t started yet.”

“Things started flowing together at the last minute. Thankfully everything got approved and the art show is scheduled to happen with my art in it. Now we’re just waiting for two more people and then we can get a definite date.” Lance said, looking giddy. Lance was an artist and had been asked by their school if he’d be willing to submit art for an art show. He had been sure he’d miss movie night with his boyfriends because he couldn’t finish his pieces in time or pieces that were done, weren’t enough. But he pushed through and when he got back to his own apartment, he saw that he had time to go over to Shiro and Keith’s apartment to spend the night with them. Honestly after all the stress, he was going to need this.

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Living Room Dances

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 894

Summary: Jungkook’s had a long few weeks prepping for a comeback, so when he gets a night off, you help him relax.


You sat on the couch in your apartment as you waited for your boyfriend Jungkook to show up for your evening in. You didn’t get to see each other much due to his work schedule, so when you had opportunities, you were always sure to snatched them up and make the most of them. Tonight, he was getting off at 6, which was in stark contrast to the late nights he’d been pulling lately to prepare for the comeback. He had a tendency to over work himself, and his manager knew it, so he told Jungkook to take the evening and try to get a little more rest to let his body recover a little. When you heard about this little respite he was being given, you immediately booked his schedule for a relaxing night in laying on your fold out couch with a movie, a good homecooked meal, and a much needed back massage. He certainly wasn’t going to argue with that. So here you were, with the couch folded out, all the fuzziest and warmest blankets laid on top of it, a few good movies on the table for him to choose from, and a filling dinner staying warm in the oven.
Upon hearing a solid knocking on the wood of your front door, you leapt up with a smile and rushed to open it, and were greeted with the sight of Jungkook, hair still a little wet from his shower after practice, and face looking clearly tired. However, in spite of his tiredness, he still smiled widely upon seeing you and walked inside without waiting to be invited so that he could hug you. He wrapped his arms around you, a smile on his face, and breathed out a sigh.
“How was practice?”
“Good, but I’m exhausted.”
You let out a little chuckle.
“How about hungry?” You felt him pause for a second as his head lifted a little off of your shoulder.
“There’s food in the kitchen?” He asked, almost more of a statement than a question.
“Yes, sir. Chicken.” As soon as the words left your mouth, he was off jogging to the other room. He followed the smell over to the oven, opens it up, and groaned with pure pleasure at the smells and sights that awaited him in the form of your cooking. He wasted no time in dishing some out onto plates for the both of you. Once you were both served, he followed you to the living room where you both laid down to eat after popping Avengers into the DvD player. You two were laying on your stomachs, your upper bodies held up on your elbows. Judging by the way he wolfed his meal down, you figured he enjoyed it, but you could see that he was a little stiff. He shifted his shoulders and grimaced occasionally, and he kept shifting from elbow to elbow.
After watching him for a minute, an idea occurred to you, and you sat up. He was too enthralled in the movie in spite of having seen it at least ten times before to notice the movement, but when you straddled his back, he tried to turn and look at you.
“What are you doing?” He questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Just sit still and turn back around.” You started rub his shoulders just at the base of his neck in slow circles and a soothing amount of pressure. Slowly, you felt him relax under your touch. His head slumped down a little and he laid down all the way, his cheek resting on the backs of his hands in front of him. You smirked, pleased by the evidence that it was working. After working on his shoulders for a little while longer, you moved down to his back, and pushed upward along the sides of his spine, feeling him relax further under every movement of your hands, the movie completely forgotten. Finally, after a little while of this, he moved you off of him and sat up.
“My girlfriend is the best.” He took your hands and gave you a little peck on the forehead, causing you both to chuckle. After you two sat there for a few moments, a slower song started to flow from the tv speakers. Smiling, Jungkook stood up, and then took your hands to pull you up to join him. Once you were both standing, he stood close to you, put his hands on your waste, and buried his face into the crook of your neck as he started to sway the two of you to the music as your feet shuffled slowly to the beat on the hard wood floor. You snaked your arms around his neck, causing him to squeeze your waste lightly as he pulled you a little closer. When the song finally ended, he stopped the two of you and moved his hands to cup your cheeks as he looked into your eyes. You could see that all of the stress from these last few weeks had melted away completely. He leaned up to press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another on the tip of your nose, and finally a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours and spoke in a soft, gentle voice, almost a whisper.
“Thank you.”


This is based on my How BTS cuddles thing I did a couple days ago, so if you read that then this should be familiar. Why are endings so hard to do lol

IwaOi, Celebrity AU (Drabble)

So I decided to take a break from uni work to write up some drabbles :’D Mona threw some AUs at me and I came up with a couple of plot bunnies. IwaOi is first up (naturally), so I hope you enjoy! MatsuHana next week! 

‘Are you still mad at me?’

Iwaizumi mumbled something incoherent into his pillow.

‘Please don’t be mad at me… I didn’t mean to.’

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Alec Martinez - Jealousy

anon request: Can you write an alec martinez imagine where you’re out with the team after a win or something and he gets jealous so he becomes overprotective and you think it’s cute?

okay so i know literally nothing  about the la kings and their players so i hope you liked this anon. 

i know i  havent posted in a while but i am working on a few right now and next should be a matthew tkachuk fluff coming up soon!!!

requests are open:))

Originally posted by fallenforfleury

so here i was playing a game of call of duty with johnny. “ha!” i laughing clicking the right trigger and getting the perfect headshot on jonathan. “not so quick anymore, are ya?” i laughed loudly.

my phone began buzzing with text messages from the one and only alec martinez.


'i’m bored plz answer’



i finally had enough of the buzzing and called him. “i’m in the middle of cod babe"i sighed over dramatically, obviously. then i continued talking. "johnny sucks at this game, holy” i laughed as i got him down once again.

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