Pay-out

anonymous asked:

I work at an ice cream place and two kids tried to steal ice cream today! Like they just started walking out without paying! Then when they came back they were salty about the whole thing. Like buddies, I getting paid minimum wage for this pls be nice

anonymous asked:

Do you like Jake Paul? I personally don't care for him but if you do, good for you I guess

i dont pay attention to burnt out disney stars so

anonymous asked:

can i get some headcannons with la squadra having a female member (and possibly their crush) being an HSP (hyper sensitive person) and also very innocent, thanks for making this if ya do!

I tried my best to read up, and I think I have this. I have a lot of ticks that this aligns with!

Risotto is not one to force his s/o into situations they’re not comfortable with. He’s done enough in his life that he may regret, and being the one to force a situation will not be one of them. Understanding that his s/o is HSP things start clicking with him, and he accommodates. Movie nights will be in a quiet room, where he can control the volume and lighting. Staying in for dates is no problem, he’d rather make dinner for the two of them instead of paying for dinner out.

Formaggio is not so understanding. Not that he’s a straight brute, just a little slow on the uptake. At first it seems like just anxiety his s/o has. As he sees how she reacts in various situations he begins to get that this isn’t that simple, there are things she would rather stay away from, or have under her control. That’s fine with him, but it may take time for him to get it.

Melone will study up on everything that may make a HSP feel uncomfortable. He will avoid situations and environments, and if he feels like an unenjoyable event is coming up or that he may want to go to an event that may bother her he will try to prepare her, and have an exit strategy worked out just in case things get too intense, and understand if the answer is just no. Spending time at home is great for Melone, he’ll just cuddle her in his room all day for a date if need be.

Prosciutto is a little difficult to be with is his s/o has HSP depending on the symptoms. Sometimes Pesci can be a bit much, and Prosciutto will get angry trying to keep him quite or get him to change a behavior. Sometimes Pesci and Prosciutto are a great pair to have around. They’re a huge support system, and if someone loves his big bro Pesci loves them. Alone Prosciutto likes things calm, quiet, and being completely in control, so if he knows his s/o is dealing with HSP he will make sure nothing will pop off, unless Pesci is having a bad day.

Pesci will have to have the whole condition explained to him, but once it is he will be fiercely protective of his s/o. He will be very prepared for anything, telling Prosciutto about things and having his big bro help regulate things, and stop Pesci is he thinks things aren’t a good idea.

Illuso has the fortunate advantage of having his mirror world. He’s really the best to be with if she is working through some situations with HS, pushes herself, and then figures out she went too far. At a moment’s notice he can make an escape into a very calm and quite environment. And, he is very patient. Maybe more so than the rest of the members.

One would think that Ghiaccio would be a hard b/f to have while being a HSP, but he’s not. If anything is bothering his s/o whether at home or out, he will demand it’s changed. If things aren’t he will gladly walk out and take her to another place. It’s not problem for him to leave places until his s/o feel good. That’s what is the most important thing to him.

when i was seven the sea-witch cursed me.

she cursed my great-grandfather, actually, who had spat on the hands of the ocean and disrespected the beating heart of the earth - for what else are waves but a pulse - who was silly and violent and who tried to rip from the water what was hers by rights. we were wealthy, before that, a family of merchants. my mother says in her youth she recalls white horses, the gleam of candles, early mornings with bread baked fresh by a horde of servants.

he didn’t ask permission to cross her. that’s what my mother tells me while she spoons porridge with no flavor into the wood of my bowl. he had no faith in superstition, rode with boats that were more decoration than strength, the folly of a man who was cruel and vain and proud of his own gold teeth. the sky had been blue, so regardless of what the village witch said, he would sail that day. and when his boat sank; their lives turned blue like the sky that day.

my mother says she thinks the curse on the men of our family, even if they come in when they marry, is that they will forever be violent, too foolish to see the storm on the horizon. she whispers this to me on the eve of my seventh birthday, while father is his own storm, thundering around the house, looking for her. later, when i am cleaning the cut by her cheek, she tells me the curse is on the women to forever be unhappy, to wane until they are shadows, to walk into the deep like a sinking ship. 

we don’t burn candles often, they are too expensive. she tells me this in the silk of a dark room. the moon kisses her hair. 

in three days, my mother will walk into the ocean, and my father will be my own problem. the curse will pass onto me. 

my father does not believe in superstition, no curse to conquer him. when he is gone, and i am heartbroken, i go to the village witch. i ask her to teach me about magic, and other things, and about how the ocean can be coaxed, and how to save my father’s soul. 

and my hands rot too, keeping a house by myself with things i barely knew. i learn the art of a good scrubbing, keep my mind full of white horses while i endlessly clean, dream of candles in dark while i make the bread that he will not allow me to eat. he keeps me from the ocean, from visiting the place that took my mom, from following in her footsteps where the water makes women undone.

i am sixteen when i see her in the water of a bowl. she scares me so completely that i drop it, and my father comes in with his hands, and the curse, and i almost forget all about it. it isn’t until after that i realize she is beautiful, and young, which surprises me. 

i think about it every evening. her face becomes distorted to me. i can no longer remember the exact shape of it, only the impression of beauty. 

i turn seventeen and wait for the high moon. i pin safety to my vest in little witch herbs and runes. i put naked toes on the sand and slip closer, closer, to the avenue of my family’s doom. i find a little private beach, small and surrounded by rocks, hidden from my father in the event he ever thought to come looking. at high tide, it is barely the span of my body. at low, it feels empty.

the witch of the land has given me what i need to call in the witch of the sea, but i do not use it. it feels wrong, somehow, standing here in the wind and the quiet pulse of the world. i put down the incense and sage and i sit just close enough it feels wild, dangerous - but not close enough to get caught up in thrill. 

when nothing happens, i go home and i make bread that i will not eat.

for months i do this. i climb down to my beach. i learn to do it when the moon is half, and then when the moon is empty. i learn to do it so well that sometimes i go to sleep in my own bed and wake up by the water. i take to sleeping with warding runes to keep me from being pulled in the rip out to the waiting hands of a hungry sea-witch.

i don’t know when i start talking. more often i sing, because singing in my house is not allowed, and something about the way the rocks echo my voice feels comforting. the older i get, the more i can pretend i hear my mother’s voice, answering me, harmonizing gently. i sing songs about sadness and lullabies about curses. when i have exhausted every song i know, i write new ones about fathers who have never learned how to be kind, about the house i work in but do not love, about mothers who left, and about a sea witch.

i see her sometimes. in a puddle, in the drop of rain, in the strangest places. i never expect it, although i always hope. i am never able to see her for more than the length of a wave, breaking, and each time, it does something new to my heart.

at eighteen i am too much of my father’s burden. he tries to unload me onto other men. the land witch helps me with this. i rub hemlock, burn wolfsbane. we arrange so these men have other women to marry. the news of my curse is bad enough to scare most away. my father is not happy.

after a particularly savage night, i wonder how bad it could be. i could marry some boy from the village who didn’t quite bother me. i suppose they’re not ugly. timothy had always been gentle to me. i think about a life, and how i am cursed to be unhappy. my father would finally be proud of me.

i walk to the beach and i tell the waves about him and how i could convince myself it was love if i just never wanted from him. how i could be okay, if not content, how i could be free, how i already had learned life down on knees.

but i go home and i write a rune of warding. and the years pass and i find reasons each suitor is wanting. and the sea witch i see, sometimes, peeking out at me, staying long each time in the water, looking, watching. i see her in mirrors when my father storms against me. it is bad because he mistakes the cause of my smiling. it is better when she is there the next morning.

and i go to the ocean. when i am too sad to speak, it seems like the ocean is whispering for me. i picture my mother’s voice and tell myself i am happy. i am seven again and we are sewing. i am seven again and the curse has not been given to me. i am seven and she came home after she walked to the sea.

i grow silly, brave, unthinking. i leave behind the herbs and i wade deep. i teach myself the art of swimming. i am bad at it, at first, but something about it feels good to me. like the ocean wants to buoy me. in the day i think of it, guilty. what if there was a rip tide, and the water took me? who would care for my father if i stepped off the beach into a long drop? wasn’t i clever enough to know that the ocean is uncaring?

it is not this that does it. i go out after a rain and i slip on the rocks and suddenly i am in water above my head but without the moon i cannot see the up of it. i kick and i thrash and the water surrounds me. the tide pulls on my body and in the cold i feel my body grow weary. water spills into me. it punches through my body, up my nose and into my lungs and some part of me knows this is what mother felt before she was gone.

i kick ground by accident, reorient, drag myself heaving and spitting into the air. i lie there for a long time, half in and half out of death, enjoying the sensation of breathing and of life.

when i look up, i think i see her, watching me, her brows knit with something like worry. but we make eye contact and my heart leaps and then she is gone and i am left alone with nothing but the dawn breaking.

my father is furious when there is no bread. he finds my hair wet, and the salt of the ocean still smelling on me. and that is it. that day he goes out and pays someone to agree to marry me.

this feels right to me, i think. i’m twenty-one, three times seven, a perfect number for a curse to fully come down on me. i will be wed in three weeks.

the land witch comes to visit me. she looks like she’s sorry for me. she gives me a spell and tells me to put it under my pillow; i’ll dream of love and it will soothe me. instead i dream of the seawitch, and how wonderful she is, and the sight of her, out on the water, worried.

even though it is risky, i go down to the beach. i do not bother with protective spells, i have already seen that the water can kill me. fear alone keeps me from wandering. i sit on the beach and in the sand i draw runes for understanding and i make the small magicks i’ve spent years learning and i close my eyes and i ask the ocean “why do you do this to me.”

i fall asleep. i dream that the sea witch talks to me. i dream she is my age, that she is the great-granddaughter of the first to curse my family. i dream she has spent years watching, learning, finding the truth of me. that she just needs to get the courage to come and speak, that she has fallen in love with my singing, that she knows no curse but the one in her heart that brings her back to a human, to a creature of air and not water, to a mistake in the making.

in the dawn i know it is a dream and no more. i make bread. i pour water out before it can make mirrors. i do not look. i do not like the ache that has filled me, as if i’ve been looking for an answer and the answer only leads to longing.

the man i meet - my husband-to-be - is delighted by the house i keep. he believes a woman should keep in her place, and her place should be clean. he hears from neighbors that sometimes i sneak out to the land witch’s house. laughter barks out of him. not going to allow that behavior, not me. he does not believe in curses. he will pack me up and move me from the ocean to somewhere in the mountains, where i know nobody. and i will, he promises, learn to keep my place, and that place clean.

i tell myself i could love him. he is not ugly. he says i’m pretty enough after whiskey. my father mentions i used to sing. i refuse to perform for these men so instead i make them cookies. they laugh and talk about me, even when i am in the room, as if they cannot even see. they shake hands and talk about how useless a woman is for much else than breeding. it’s very funny. the man meets my eyes and promises he’ll put a baby in me. i look down and pretend the thrill i feel is excitement, not fear brewing in me.

the land witch comes by a week before my wedding. she is smaller these days, aging. her apprentice and i get along wonderfully. the two women stand before me, holding something. 

a small box, so tiny and lovely. “break the curse,” the witch whispers, “learn to be happy.”

i smuggle the box, take it everywhere with me. it is days before i have a moment to slip away, to open it by the sea. i take a candle with me, even though my father will notice and be angry.

by the light of fire i read the spell they have left me inside, and then i am so full of gratitude i cannot stop crying.

it must be a full moon, so i must wait. in the meantime, i walk home, and i bake. 

i do not see the seawitch, even though i look for her. maybe i have wounded her, getting married. my father asks why i keep smiling. i tell him it is because i am finally with a man. he grunts and says to stop looking so silly. 

the man kisses me. i let him. we are married on a night with a full moon, and i poison him and my father in the bread i did not eat. i think of how these men were cursed so they could not see a storm coming. i watch them as they lie there, dying, and then i put all of the things i own into a basket for the land witch. i leave it there with a song i wrote for her, a spell i know will make her happy, will stop the aging of her joints, will give her the kind of relief she gave me. 

i go down to the water. i find myself running, even though i am in no hurry. i know the way so well it is like i wake up there, panting. i ask permission first. i lay out the contents of the box, i organize and practice and when the needle and pain comes, i am ready for it. i am used to pain at night. i breathe into it and walk naked into waters that swallowed my mother.

i chew bitter herbs. i swallow fire. i feel myself drown as i change from land witch to sea witch. 

when it is done, i open my eyes in the deep of a moonlit ocean. and i see her. 

this time she does not flicker. this time when i reach for her, she is there, and she is pushing my hair out of my eyes, and we are kissing with the ocean rejoicing around us, and i am laughing, and i hear her voice as clear as bell inside me.

and we live like this, a whole world between us where white horses are the size of pinky fingers and swim with their thin snouts, where i need no candles because i was raised lightless, where we have no servants but the water takes care of us. i show her the magic of land and she unfolds the magic of water. together we are unstoppable. when i come up to the air to sing little girls a promise that they can survive the madness, she sings with me, and we make a beautiful harmony.

Human Sayings are Weird

We have a lot of weird expressions.  Some are anachronistic, having come from a time and place that no longer exists, leaving us with a phrase that seems to have no context; one of these would be to “bite the bullet”, which referred to the practice of literally biting down on a bullet (or a piece of would) while someone operated on you/seared a wound shut, to keep yourself from screaming too much or biting your mouth and hurting yourself.  In an era of much more precise surgeries and anesthesia, the context no longer exists, but the phrase is still used.

Then there are phrases that are deliberately hyperbolic.  “I’m going to tan your hide”. for example, is a descriptive way to tell someone you’re going to beat them, but odds are good you’re not literally going to be tanning their hide.

So I was thinking that a group of enterprising aliens would form a betting pool around certain words and phrases; you can bet whether phrases are anachronistic, literal, or hyperbolic, and then the pool pays out when the phrase is confirmed one way or another.  

Which brought me to an amusing little scene in my head.

———

Malchior 7 was an incredibly hostile planet.  All the local flora and fauna had self-defense features that would kill most species.  It was advised, if you were determined to visit, to wear full haz-mat suits and bring at least one human.  Most dangerous of all were the dominant species, a carnivorous form of primate with near-sapient intelligence, clever enough to use tools and form societies, but either not intelligent enough or too violent to have dialog with outside races.

So when a scouting party was ambushed by a large warband of these primates, the alien members fled in terror, only realizing about twenty paces down the path that the humans were standing and fighting.  Their hazmat suits were already ripped from the beasts’ claws, and their guns hand been knocked from their hands, but the humans still fought, wresting the primates’ weapons from their hands and turning them on their creators.  One of the humans managed to get a firm grip on the ankle of one of the beasts, and began slinging him back and forth, using the primate as a flail to slam into his cohorts.

One of the aliens let out a warble of delight, hurriedly pulling out its comm device and beginning to record, while simultaneously opening a codex page and beginning to type.

“Gor’thax, this is hardly the time!”

“You don’t understand.  I am about to make SO.  MUCH.  PROFIT.”  The alien uploaded the footage to the codex, with the title “[VIDEO PROOF - LITERAL PHRASE] “I’m going to beat a motherfucker with another motherfucker.”“

spellbound (m)

Pairing:  Jimin x Reader
Genre: witch!au (sort of based on the secret circle), smut, comedy, slight angst
Warnings: dom-ish!jimin, magical sex rituals (so slight blood play, breath play, temperature play), rough sex, cumplay
Word Count:  10k+
Summary:  The only reason you agreed to do this magical ritual with Park Jimin’s Circle was for the sake of your own Circle - to strengthen your individual magic. Yes, that means you’ll have to fuck him, but no, you weren’t happy about it because you hate Park Jimin. Once again, you were only doing this for your Circle. 

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Hello hello, Jess here! I thought I’d try this “advice post” thing out and see if it’s something I could do again in the future. Because honestly, the more advice we can give each other the better, am I right?

So buckle up kiddos, I’m gonna give you some advice for straight A’s that took me far too long to figure out.

1. Pay attention in class

Not just for the curriculum either, sometimes your teacher will give you handy tips for your assessment. Like, last semester, my English teacher mentioned that looking up from your palm cards for majority of your speech would almost guarantee you an A. It was so simple, and I reckon not even half the class heard her.

Also pay attention when your teacher is actually teaching you things. That way you won’t end up having to teach yourself the classwork at home because you weren’t paying attention. There’s a reason it’s taught in class you dummy, so use that time wisely and save your own studying session for something worth your while.

2. Use a planner

And don’t just use it every week or so, use it every day, even if it’s to briefly check what’s due soon. Find a planning system that works for you and use it. Actually write down when your tests are and you assignments are due the day you find out.

But don’t forget to use it to plan as well! I use a bullet journal weekly spread to set plans for things like when I have to finish this chapter by and when to start studying for a test, etc. Give yourself dates to finish certain chunks of work by, it will save your life I promise.

3. Be organised

This is tied in with no. 2 but be organised. Know when that essay is due, know your schedule, know where your books and equipment are. It doesn’t matter if you have a clean and tidy room or your bedroom looks like a bomb hit it, as long as you know where everything is and you feel organised as a whole, it will work.

4. Do not ignore your assessments

This is the thing that took me the longest to learn. Even if you’re not going to actually work on your assignment, allow yourself to think about it, don’t push it to the side for “later”. Bring it to the forefront of your mind as often as you can.

It’s much more productive to grit your teeth and face it early, than build up a wall against it and freak out a day before it’s due I’ve had far too much experience trust me.

5. Make sure you understand everything

At the end of every lesson, ask yourself if you understood everything. If not, either ask your classmates or a teacher to explain, or go home and study that area until you do understand. And make sure you catch yourself early! Make sure to check with yourself at the end of each and every lesson so it doesn’t build up and you fall behind.

6. Always hand in drafts

Idk why it took me so long to start doing this. Seriously, you’re able to get feedback and pointers towards an A before you get given a grade and it goes in the system. It’s practically cheating! So. Do. It.

7. Dedicate time to your studies

I’m blessed enough not to have any extra curricular activities outside of school, so I’m aware that this can be a little harder for others. But if you can, try to do something each day, even if you have no assessments. Go over your class notes, watch a crash course video, read the set novel ahead of time. It sets a routine.

And if you come home absolutely exhausted and it’s impossible for you to do something, make sure to write down all of the things you need to remember to do for the next day. Then, get some sleep and go over the list in the morning when you wake up to remind you.

8. Balance

This is possibly the most important one. Make sure you have a balance in your lifestyle. Don’t overwork yourself, but don’t slack off. Get enough sleep each night, drink enough water, listen to your favourite bands while you write your essay. Balance work and play, health and treats.

Because balance creates a good mood, and your attitude towards your work changes so much of your outcome. I know it sounds so cliche and unrealistic, but it genuinely does. With negative emotions comes negative grades (yeah idk what that meant either haha).

So those were my little tips towards straight A’s. A lot of them are things you’ve probably already heard before, but it’s for a good reason. They’ve worked for me so far, and I hope that they will for you too.

Good luck!

DACA and what it means to me

*disclaimer when I was typing this I was a crying mess it might not make sense. It might also not flow together and just sound like a bunch of random thought but this is my story as a DACA recipient.

I am a DACA recipient. I was brought to the U.S. when I was a year and a half old. I’m not sure if I was brought here illegally or legally and then overstayed my visa. I never asked my parents about it. Hell I didn’t even know I was an illegal immigrant until I asked my parents why we never went to visit our family in Mexico and my we never left the state or hell even the county.

I lived in constant fear of being deported when I found out I was an illegal immigrant. The city that I grew up in had ICE raids almost every day for a couple of years. And then they stopped.

It was hard being a teenager and having to hide this huge secret that you never asked for. It’s difficult having to explain to your friends why at the age of 16 and 17 you don’t have your drivers license and weren’t going to get it any time soon. It was also hard to explain to them why you would turn down acceptances to so great universities because you don’t qualify for FAFSA or any kind of financial aid. Why you are going to a community college when you had a great GPA and good SAT/ACT scores. Why you didn’t apply for any scholarships because the all require you to be a U.S. citizen.

Living in constant fear because now you are going to lose the only thing that made you feel safe. The one thing that allowed you to have a good paying job. The reason why you don’t have to pay out of state tuition at school.

The U.S. has been my home for 19 years. English is my primary language it might have not been the first one I learned but it’s the one I speak the best and the one I am most comfortable with. To even think about going to Mexico makes me nervous. What am I going to do there?

Teens and adult like me didn’t ask to be in this position. Us DACA recipients are either attending school or have a job. We pay our taxes and every time we renew our permits we have to go through another background check. We are just people who want to make a decent living and make a difference in this country a country that has been out home for as long as most of us can remember. I mean how may 20 year olds do you know that have already have had to have 3 backgrounds check just to prove that they deserve to be able to have a decent job and further their education.

Less then a month ago, I went to my lawyer to renew my DACA. I paid almost a grand for both my legal fees and application fees. Money that I won’t get back if DACA get terminated. And now I have to wait and hear what Trumps official decision on DACA but I’m sure we all know that he’s going to end it. And with that end my dreams of ever being able to finish my education.

So please show some compassion and call your local senator and congressman. Telling not to end DACA and show your support to people like me who just want to live a normal life with out fear of being deported to a country that is foreign to them.

Have fun being stranded in the Philippines.

Please be patient, the buildup to this is intense and long but the resulting revenge has probably put me on the Devil’s shortlist. (tl:dr at the end)

About 3 months before I finally quit, I was getting really pissed. Management was never in the office, the Owner couldn’t make up his mind about anything, and so many people were quitting that I ended up being the only Programmer/Developer in an office of about 50 people… for a company that received 95% of its business from online sales. People started taking credit for my work and I decided to quit. Looked around for jobs, found one pretty quickly, and put in my two weeks notice with a nice little note that simply said something to the effect of “I hereby resign, effective blah blah blah”.

Lo and behold the man who had in the last few days become my manager (we’ll call him Frank) instead of idk maybe promoting the only programmer in the company to the head of the development department, begged me to stay, promised me a raise, and told me about their new project and how he wanted me to be involved.

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everybody wants to love you!

anonymous requested: for the soulmate prompt thing at first i was like aww for number 18 but then i just imagined modern reddie and eddie has fucking all star by smashmouth stuck in his head who the fuck is singing all start oh it’s richie (also on ao3)

Everyone knew that if a song was stuck in your head, it was because your soulmate was singing it. Eddie had always thought it was cute until it began happening to him. Now the main reason he wanted to meet his soulmate was to strangle them for singing such annoying songs.

Eddie struggled to concentrate on the textbook in front of him. He groaned and closed the book, resting his face in his hands. Bill gave him a concerned look over his laptop.

“Something wrong, Eddie?” he asked.

The brunet looked at him in exasperation. “They’re singing again. Why do they always have to start singing whenever I’m doing something important!?”

Bill smiled sympathetically. “What is it this time?”

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me / I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed / She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb / In the shape of an “L” on her forehead

“Fucking ‘All Star’ by Smash Mouth. I hate my life, Bill.”

His friend laughed. “You say that now but you’ll change your mind when you meet your soulmate.”

The hypochondriac rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Bill. You’re not the one with a soulmate that sings meme songs and weird indie shit. I wish my soulmate sang pretty songs like yours,” he grumbled.

Hey now, you’re an all-star, get your game on, go play / Hey now, you’re a rock star, get the show on, get paid / And all that glitters is gold / Only shooting stars break the mold

Eddie whined again and buried his face in his arms.

“I want to die.”

He shot Bill a glare when he laughed.

-

“Are we rehearsing tonight?” Bill asked the lead singer and founder of their band.

Richie groaned. “I don’t want to but we have to keep practicing that song we’re gonna cover for the show on Friday, which is two days from now. So yeah, we’re rehearsing.”

Bill snorted. “Alright, I’ll let Bev know then.”

He left to call their bassist and Richie leaned back in the lounge chair in the Student Union. He began to hum the tune of their new song. The trashmouth pulled out his notebook and scribbled down some notes and lyric ideas.

I come home in the morning light / My mother says when you gonna live your life right / Oh mother dear we’re not the fortunate ones / And girls they wanna have fun / Oh girls just want to have fun

Richie smiled wide as he stilled his hand. He really wanted to meet his soulmate. From what he could gather by their taste in music, they’d be fun to be around.

“What are you smiling about?”

He looked up. Bill sat down across from him, eyebrow raised knowingly. Richie’s cheeks reddened as he looked back to his notebook.

When the working / When the working day is done / Oh when the working day is done oh girl / Girls, they wanna have fun

“My soulmate’s singing.”

Bill nodded, a smirk forming. “Beverly’s on her way,” he told him. “She’s bringing dinner, also.”

“God bless her fucking soul.”

-

Eddie watched as Stan threw himself dramatically on the couch in his apartment. He groaned loudly before regaining his composure and sitting up.

“Everything okay, Stan?” Eddie asked, genuinely concerned for his friend.

The curly haired teen looked up at him. “Yes and no.”

The brunet raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes, I’m fine as in there isn’t anything actually wrong with me. No, I’m not fine because my soulmate won’t stop singing love songs.”

Eddie gave him a jealous look. “I’d take that over getting ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ stuck in my head every hour.”

Stan snorted. “I really want to meet them but it’s unlikely. I just hope the chances are good enough that we go to the same university.”

“I get what you mean. I want to meet my soulmate and beat the crap out of them for getting all those shitty songs stuck in my head, but yeah, I also want to meet them for the obvious reasons.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Eddie, but your soulmate sounds like a fucking nightmare,” his friend said. “Anyway, ready to start this dumbass history project?”

Eddie groaned and went over to the TV and turned it on.

“By the way, my roommate might be back, like, halfway through this documentary,” he explained as he inserted the DVD.

“I’m warning you now but history is honestly the most boring subject so don’t get mad at me if I fall asleep, which is very likely. Just pay extra attention,” Stan told him, pulling his feet up on the couch.

Eddie rolled his eyes and sat with him on the couch, pressing the play button. He tried to focus but the dull voice of the narrator explaining the French Revolution was making it hard. That and the new song stuck in his head.

Your sister thinks that I’m a freak / She’s been ignoring my calls, we haven’t spoken in a week / I get so drunk that I can’t speak / Yeah, nothing’s working and the future’s looking bleak and I say

“Really? Now of all times?”

“Song stuck in your head?” Stan asked as he repositioned himself to lie down.

Eddie nodded miserably. “Yeah, and it sounds loud. You know what I mean.”

“No, not really.”

Three beers and I’m so messed up, get drunk and I can’t shut up / She says that I drink too much / I fucked up and she hates my guts / She says that I need to grow up

“It always happens when I really need to focus. I feel like they know,” Eddie explained.

“Well, block it out and pay attention. I can feel my soul dying as this documentary progresses.”

The hypochondriac laughed at his friend and drew his legs up on the couch so he was sitting crisscross.

I’ll drink ‘til I’m staring at the ceiling / I’ll be just fine I’m numb and losing feeling / I can’t tell lies anymore

“What are we even supposed to do for this assignment?” Stan asked, looking over at Eddie.

He shrugged. “I think we’re supposed to watch the documentary and then write some questions? Our professor said he’d pick the best ones and use them as essay questions for the next test.”

“Shit.”

I just don’t know what to do, I’m still fucked up over you / She says that I drink too much / Hawaiian red fruit punch / She says I need to grow up

“It shouldn’t be too bad considering the French Revolution is pretty straightforward,” said Eddie.

His friend groaned again, leaning his head back against the couch. “Kill me.”

True to his word, Stan fell asleep about ten minutes in. Eddie tried his best to pay attention, scribbling down possible ideas for questions, but four more songs came and went. The documentary had just ended when he heard the apartment door open. He looked up from the TV where he was removing the disc.

“Hey,” Eddie waved. “How was practice?”

Bill dropped his bookbag on the ground and headed into the kitchen.

“It was good,” he told Eddie as he poured himself a bowl of cereal before draping himself over the armchair. “We got a lot of stuff done and perfected the two covers we’re doing for Fridays show. Which you better still be going to.”

Eddie rolled his eyes when Bill gave him a pointed look. “I’m going.”

He grinned. “Good. Anyway, what the hell were you watching?”

“It was for a stupid assignment for my history class. Speaking of, Stanley, wake up! It’s over.”

He shoved Stan with his foot, jerking him awake.

“Okay, first off? Rude. Secondly, your couch is very uncomfortable, please tell me you don’t make guest sleep here.”

Eddie shrugged at him. “Do you wanna, like, stay and get take out or something?”

Stan stood up, stretching his arms over his head, causing his shirt to ride up a bit. “No, I should probably get back to my apartment and hope my roommate hasn’t burned it down,” he replied.

He seemed to just now notice Bill. “Oh, you must be Eddie’s roommate. I’m Stanley.”

Bill smiled at him and Eddie noticed Stan’s cheeks flush. “Bill.”

“Nice to meet you. Anyway, I should head out. I’ll see you tomorrow, Eddie.”

Eddie said his goodbyes as he walked out of the apartment. He noticed how his roommate’s eyes lingered on the doorway.

“Hey, just out of curiosity, is he single?” Bill asked, looking back at Eddie.

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head as he walked back to his room.

“What, Eddie? Are you going to answer my question or not?” his roommate shouted after him.

He ignored him in favor of his phone vibrating. He checked to see that it was a text from Stan.

[ from: bird boy ] Okay so uhh

[ from: bird boy ] Your roommate is hot as fuck

[ from: bird boy ] Like,, raw me please

[ to: bird boy ] never ever ever make me read those words ever again in my life

[ from: bird boy ] Pass the word on to him I’m begging you

[ to: bird boy ] im blocking you

-

“Is it okay if my roommate joins us for lunch? I promised I’d go with him last week but obviously forgot and then made plans with you. He just texted me asking where we’re meeting.”

Richie looked up and Bill and laughed. “Fine with me, Big Bill. You talk a lot about your roommate. I’m excited to meet him.”

Hold up, they don’t love you like I love you / Slow down, they don’t love you like I love you / Back up, they don’t love you like I love you / Step down, they don’t love you like I love you / Can’t you see there’s no other man above you? / What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you / Hold up, they don’t love you like I love you / Oh, down, they don’t love you like I love you

He cracked a smile. “I really want to meet my soulmate.”

Bill raised an eyebrow.

“Beyoncé.”

His friend snorted and rolled his eyes before returning to texting his roommate about his whereabouts.

How did it come down to this? / Scrolling through your call list / I don’t wanna lose my pride, but I’m a fuck me up a bitch / Know that I kept it sexy, and know I kept it fun / There’s something that I’m missing, maybe my head for one

“Okay, he’s on his way. I told him I’d order for him so let’s get going.”

Richie nodded and followed Bill into the restaurant. They ordered their food, with Bill ordering also for his roommate, before diving deep into conversation.

“Bill, I swear to god, if you ask about him again I’m going to kill you.”

A short brunet stopped abruptly behind Bill, unaware of Richie’s presence. He took this time to admire him. He was cute. Really cute. Richie grinned.

“Hiya,” he said with a grin, taking the newcomer’s eyes off his friend.

“This is my friend Richie. Richie, this is my roommate Eddie,” Bill explained. “He’ll be having lunch with us if that’s okay with you.”

Eddie gave Richie a quick once over and a small smile before sitting down next to Bill. Their food arrived shortly after and they began to eat.

“So, Eddie,” the trashmouth began. “Are you coming to our show on Friday?”

Eddie looked up, his look a bit skeptical. “Our show?” he repeated.

“I’m sure you’ve heard all about the band from Bill.”

“You’re in that band?”

Richie laughed. “Eds, I formed that band!”

He grimaced. “Don’t call me Eds.”

The dark-haired teen reached over and pinched his new friend’s cheek. “But its cute, like you!”

Eddie slapped his hand away, only looking mildly embarrassed. He glanced at Bill.

“Is he always like this?” he asked.

Bill looked at his friend and sighed. “Sadly.”

Richie placed his hand on his chest in mock offense. “You hurt me, Bill. This isn’t how you were treating me last night. Why do you always have to act so different when we’re in public?” he whined as he began to pretend to cry dramatically.

“Beep beep, Richie.”

Richie grinned wide and pushed his chair back. “I have to go. You’d better be at that show tomorrow, Eddie, or I will be very sad!”

He slung his bag over his shoulder and headed toward the exit.

“He didn’t pay,” he heard Eddie say to Bill.

“This isn’t the first time.”

Richie waved over his shoulder and blew Bill a kiss. He winked at Eddie, his grin widening when he saw him blush.

-

Friday finally rolled around and Eddie decided to invite Stan to Bill’s band’s show. He made sure to specifically mention that his roommate was in this said band because he knew Stanley would never go otherwise.

“Can you please stop talking about you and my roommate fucking,” Eddie pleaded, pressing his fingers to his temples. “And are you sure you still want to go? You weren’t looking too good earlier.”

“It’s the depression,” Stan replied, giving him a look. “But I’m okay now.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. Let me know if you want to leave at any time and we will.”

Can I get your number? / Can I get you into bed? / When we wake up in the morning / Will you give me lots of head?

“Oh, that’s nice,” Eddie sighed as they got closer to their destination.

“Another song?”

Eddie nodded.

“Me too. Or at least parts of a song.”

Everybody wants to love you / Everybody wants to love you! / Everybody wants to love you

They approached the venue, easily identifiable by music and cheering. They paid the entry fee and walked inside. Eddie was immediately greeted by sweaty, dancing bodies and loud music. He saw Richie up on stage, strumming a guitar. He spotted Bill in the back on the drums, and two other individuals: a girl on bass and a dark-skinned guy on another guitar. He couldn’t help but stare at Richie, who caught his gaze. The dark-haired boy grinned and winked at him before continuing with the song.

Will you lend me your toothbrush? Will you make me breakfast in bed? Ask me to get married And then make me breakfast again!

Eddie watched as the rest of the band joined in for the chorus.

Everybody wants to love you.”

He froze. The Richie sang the next part alone.

Everybody wants to love you!

Eddie felt as if his skin was on fire. His hands started shaking and checked his pockets, cursing internally because of course he didn’t bring his inhaler.

“Eddie!” Stan snapped him out of his daze. Distantly he heard the band sing another line. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to throw up. Do you need me to take you to the bathroom?”

He could only nod. He didn’t think that he would react this way to meeting his soulmate. Stan grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd. He was dimly aware of the song ending and people cheering. He didn’t notice the look on Richie’s face when Stan pulled him into the bathroom. He turned the sink on and wet a paper towel, dabbing it on his face to cool himself down.

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“The lead singer of that band? The one on the guitar?”

“Richie? Yeah, he’s my roommate and best friend. He’s also terrible. What about him?” Stan asked, genuinely concerned for his wellbeing.

Eddie stared at him. “He’s your roommate? You live with him?”

“Unfortunate, I know. Wait, how do you know him?”

“Bill introduced me.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Oh, god. You’re the guy he’s been gushing on about for the past twenty-four hours. It’s disgusting.”

“Says the guy who won’t shut up about my roommate,” Eddie accused.

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, what does you almost having an asthma attack have to do with Richie?” Stanley questioned, crossing his arms.

“Well he’s, uh, he’s my soulmate,” Eddie confessed.

The curly haired boy’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit. How do you know? God, he’s going to be ecstatic when he finds out.”

Eddie reddened. “That song. It was stuck in my head on the walk over here. It sounded like it got so much louder when we came inside.”

Stan nodded. “Well, you have to tell him because he looked hurt when I had to drag you in here.”

“I literally only met him yesterday,” Eddie whined.

Stanley rolled his eyes. “Yet you like him! Man up and tell him that he’s your soulmate.” He gave Eddie a quick hug before exiting the bathroom.

Eddie took a deep breath. He moved to open the bathroom door but it was pushed open. Richie grabbed his hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

He short-circuited for a second. “I have to tell you something.”

Richie rubbed his thumb over the palm, making Eddie shiver. “Okay.”

Eddie looked away, cheeks red. “You’re my soulmate.”

“What?”

“On the walk here, I had that song you just played stuck in my head and I’d never heard it before,” Eddie admitted.

“What did you listen to before meeting Bill for lunch yesterday?” Richie asked him.

“Um, I listened to Beyoncé. Lemonade specifically, but I don’t know what this has to do with anything.”

Richie pushed him back against the bathroom wall and grabbed the sides of his face. He kissed him hard, hands moving from his cheeks to his waist. Eddie was thrown off guard but immediately regained his composure, kissing him back earnestly, his fingers curling in his shirt. Richie coaxed his mouth open, the wet sounds of mouths and tongues pressing together filled the small room.

“I can’t believe you just made out with me in a fucking bathroom. Do you know how germy and disgusting these places are?” Eddie panted as they broke apart.

“Relax, babe. It’s not like I’m fucking you in a stall,” he grinned and pressed his forehead to Eddie’s. “Unless you want me to.”

Eddie pushed him away. “Beep beep, Richie,” he used the phrase he heard Bill say yesterday to get him to shut up. “Absolutely disgusting.”

Richie laughed and kissed him again, this time gentler. He pulled back and placed a kiss on his temple, intertwining their fingers together.

“I gotta get back out there,” he said, pulling him toward the exit. “I’ll dedicate the next song to you, darlin’.”

Eddie smiled wide as his soulmate led him back out into the crowd. He’d strangle him for singing all those annoying songs another night. Tonight was all about them.

Types of Ghostly Encounters

Hello lovely Witches!

I thought it would be interesting to post my thoughts on different types of spiritual encounters and hear what other Witches have experienced. 

I want to focus specifically on the spiritual. Elementals, Fae, and other creatures deserve their own posts. 

1. Echos

Echos are emotional leftovers. They’re an emotional energy stamp left on a place, item, or even person. They can manifest as an image, a smell, a sound, or even a moving scene. A particularly traumatic or emotional event can linger in its entirety. I once lived in a house where I would hear the same domestic fight play out in the kitchen over and over. 

Echos are not sentient. Echos can be left by people who are still living. They are not spirits in the traditional sense that we think of them but they make up the majority of paranormal experiences we encounter. 

2. Departed

Departed are the spirits in the traditional sense. They are the consciousnesses of people who have died. They are sentient and can interact with the living. 

Keep in mind they are people and retain their personalities. The spirit of the old man in your house may be perfectly lovely and kind, and the spirit that inhabits your local swimming pool may be a total bitch. Interact with these spirits the same way you would with the living.

(On a related note: the only danger a Ouija Board presents to you is potentially connecting you with a dick. There are spirits who will lie to you and try to scare you. You always have the power to end the conversation and send them away.)

3. Essence 

An Essence was never human. 

There is some debate within my circle as to whether or not an Essence is a creature akin to a demon or if they are literally the essence of good or evil, a conglomoration of human emotion given sentience. Whether or not they come from nature or human belief.

What I do know is when dealing with an Essence you must be cautious. They are powerful, can manipulate objects in the physical world, and are the main culprits for the worst types of hauntings.  

————————

No matter the type of encounter you are entitled to protection of self. Do not give attention to loud negative spirits and remember that you can tell anything to go away. 

My favorite line is “you don’t pay rent so get out!”

(If I ever find a spirit who is willing to leave me rent money in the couch cushions I’ll welcome them in with open arms.)

That’s it for today’s post! Let me know what you think and what type of ghostly encounters you’ve had!

Would You Look At That

A/N: That photo of Shawn waiting in the check out line inspired this. Late night grocery store shopping + running into each other. 

Wow, I’m on a roll with fluff. Let’s see how long I keep this up. 

Feedback appreciated. Enjoy. 


You don’t know what possessed your roommate to drag you out of the comfort of your warm bed to go grocery shopping, yet there you are. The bright neon sign glares at you as you park and you can’t help but turn your head to do the same.

“Sonya, tell me again why we’re here at…11 o’clock at night?” You pull your phone out to check the time. Whatever she needed could wait until the morning.

“We literally have nothing for breakfast,” Sonya retorts. “We’re also out of toilet paper,” she confesses. You groan in annoyance, letting your head fall back onto the headrest.

“Alright, alright. I guess that couldn’t wait.” You can’t say you’re surprised, though. Both of you have been busy with school and work, so it’s simple to overlook necessities like food and toilet paper.

Sonya hustles towards the carts  to wrangle one. You can barely keep your eyes open until you step into the store and the the harsh florescent lights invade your vision.

Keep reading

Good Hair, Better Fics (Week 1)

Hey, y’all! A proper, comprehensive reading list is something I’ve been wanting to do since before I went on break and what better time to start than on Fanfiction Writer Appreciation Day? Below you will find a collection of fics (listed in no particular order) by countless amazing writers who deserve all the kind words in the world for providing us with this amazing content.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Steve Rogers x Reader

Peter Parker x Reader

Eggsy x Reader

*Banner created by @violentlyfarts

college advice part 5/7 : buying textbooks

→ these are just tips based on what i’ve learned at uni!!

  • buy the books for classes you know you’ll not do well in. i didn’t know if i’d need my physics book for class or not, but i knew that i would struggle in it, so i got it anyways! it ended up that i needed it anyways, but i wanted it for supplemental reading material regardless of the requirement or not.
  • wait until you get the syllabus OR the professor tells you if you’ll need the textbook for classes that you are familiar with and have a history of doing well in. they’ll usually tell you during the first class if you’ll need the textbook or not! for my gen chem class, i didn’t use the textbook at all; my professor told us at the beginning that we wouldn’t need it unless we wanted it as supplemental material. same for my first bio class in college. but my physics class required the book, so i got it.
  • do not buy textbooks brand new, or at all, unless you know you’ll need them for you entire college career! rent your books!! it’s so much cheaper and odds are you won’t need them for longer than 1 semester. i have never outright bought a book for any class in uni until this semester where i bought my organic chemistry textbook, used, from eBay. i bought it because that’s what i want to study in grad school so it’s gonna be useful in the long run. but other than that one, i’ve never bought a textbook for math, physics, english, etc. i’ve always rented them because i get some pretty sweet deals from amazon as a purdue student!
  • find cheap places to get textbooks! some professors will tell you to get old versions because they’re cheaper, but try to find the cheapest copy possible if you can. most of the time, you can actually find old versions on the internet for free; if you’re okay with reading off a computer screen, then you might want to do this if you have to pay for textbooks. i’m lucky enough to have my parents help in paying for mine. check out these posts for some more information on where to get textbooks for cheap or free: 

that music video was so awful. 

 under normal circumstances, spinning things in your favor, trying to show that it doesn’t bother you, would be endearing. but not when you’re taylor fucking swift. not when you appear to wear revenge like a badge of honor. not when you’re so annoyingly inconsistent and hypocritical (she did not in fact “Shake It Off”). not when she appears to let her grudges consume all of her time and energy and completely eat at any happiness she once had. not when this comes across as cold and calculated. the playfulness she once had about being picked on is gone because she honestly believes she can do no wrong now (“Look What YOU Made Me Do”), and anyone who dares to call her out must pay. instead of, i don’t know, living her fucking life on her own terms, she obsesses over her frenemies long after they’ve forgotten all about her. i highly doubt kanye is shaking in his boots right now. (it’s also not cool to rip off BEYONCE. not only the dancers and costumes, but the baseball bat and death makeup [á la “Sorry”]).

i mean she’s making fun of people saying she’s a victim, ALL THE WHILE SHE’S ACTUALLY PLAYING THE VICTIM. defending yourself is one thing (one thing that every person should have the right to do). but what she’s up to is something different entirely. she’s self destructing. real karma will come for her one day.