i just had one in my foot

zedsdead1001  asked:

'zero fucks given. Next please' for Eruri if you'd like! Xx

omg you chose the most Levi one lmfao let’s do this


Erwin arrived at the DMV, parking quickly, sloppily, slamming his door and striding inside. First he had to get a ticket and wait for who knew how long for his number to be called. He sat, tapping his foot on the ground, surrounded by other customers just as irritable as him. When “D87” was called, Erwin marched up to the counter.

“Excuse me,” he said, righteous indignation in his tone. “My driver’s license address is completely wrong, and I’d like a refund and a—“

“Zero fucks given,” the worker said testily.

“W-what?” Erwin balked.

The man behind the counter—short, black-haired, with an irascible scowl—sighed. “Next please,” he said.

“I need this fixed!” Erwin said. “Where is your manager?”

“I am the manager.”

“What did you just say, Levi?” another worker asked.

“Nothing, Nile,” this Levi said. He turned back to Erwin. “Okay, I’m not the manager. But I don’t give a fuck what you think. I’m quitting this shit.”

“Levi,” Nile said. “You can’t just—“

“Can it, Pubeface. I’m out of here. Fuck two weeks’ notice.”

Erwin stood there, frozen, as the man tore off his tie and stormed off.

“Well,” Erwin said to Nile. “Can you help me with this?”

 

Half an hour later, Erwin went back out to the parking lot. Satisfied. He was almost to his car when he saw him. Levi, leaning up against a grey sedan, right next to Erwin’s car.

“Shitty park job you did there,” Levi said.

“Yeah. I’d say I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’d ‘give a fuck.’”

Levi snorted. “Nah.”

“I guess I’m not the only one having a bad day?” Erwin asked.

Levi nodded, avoiding his eye. “Everyone at the DMV—the customers, the staff—everyone’s having a bad day. All of them, all the time.”

“So why are you still here?”

“I left my keys inside. I’m trying to find a less embarrassing time to go back in and get them.”

Erwin laughed for the first time that day. “Don’t wanna go slinking back to Pubeface?”

Levi cracked a smile. “Never.”

“Well, when you get your keys, would you maybe wanna…go somewhere?”

Levi looked at him with surprise. “Someplace besides here? With you? Sure.”

“Go get your keys. Then we can finally get out of here.”


Send me a 5 word prompt and a pairing. I’d be happy to write you something.

It’s summer. My finger tips were locked in your hair for one and a half summers but it always felt longer. You felt like summer to me. When you talk about it summer always seems so fair away, a distant but warm memory. Everyone is always aching to soak some sunshine into their skin. Time with you was always so effortless, every day an adventure even if it’s just parking lots or train tracks or grocery store trips. We made that city ours with every foot step. I had you for one and a half summers of my life which is not even close to how many summers I’ve experienced. I kissed you in July at 2 am in a pizza place in front of your brother and you kissed back like we were forth of july fireworks. Everything always tasted sweet and sticky, Popsicle kids. Every time I write a new poem about you I have to remember that just like summer you may seem so beautiful bathed in golden light but you are just nostalgia tricking me into believing you are something better than you are. It’s summer and I am alone. What a sad thing to say.
—  summer

anonymous asked:

Things will be ok. Just deal with them the best you can.

thanx b. yeah, that’s how it goes, generally. i’m not bad at that - i’ve had my practice, to be sure - and the world keeps on going, time keeps on ticking, but i always just wind up feeling like i should be doing more. i’m guessing part of it is that Tumblr (and the internet at large) skews so, so young, so what i see outside of IRL tends to be well-meaning but so intense, and then i feel bad for not keeping up. dunno. am Too Old For This Shit, etc

i’m not in a bad place rn, i’m just in my regular place and feeling slightly bad for that not being good enough, if that makes any sense.

Take The Trade: Part 1

Author: @sincerelystiles
Pairing: Dylan x Reader
Word Count: 2,836

Warning: THIS IS VERY SINFUL OH DEAR LORD

A/N: big fuckin thanks to the girls for encouraging me to finish this and being super supportive. i’ve been working on this for the longest time and it’s finally here, so enjoy mother fuckers x x

LISTEN TO THIS ON REPEAT!!!!


Originally posted by gabalecki


I throw the phone onto the couch, groaning in annoyance and stomping my feet like a child as I wander to the kitchen, huffing once more to catch Dylan’s attention. “What’s wrong?” He asks, his back still turned to me as he assorted popcorn and candy into different plastic tubs.

My shoulders slouch and I climb onto the island, crossing my legs and pulling an unsatisfied face. “Everyone’s busy, they can’t make it.” I grumble under my breath with furrowed eyebrows. Friday night was game night, everyone came over to my place to eat junk food, play stupid board games and get completely wasted. But, everyone decided they’d be busy this week, which couldn’t have been any more inconvenient.

Keep reading

“What A Ride” A. Andrews x Reader imagine

WARNING(S)  Okay I have only one thing to say… don’t drive and get’s fingered by your boyfriend at the same time! Reference of fingering. / not edited \

IMAGINE ABOUT: When you and your boi go on a interesting ride. 

Archie reached across the table and laced the fingers on our right hand together, igniting that familiar warmth. A half-smile bloomed on Achie’s lips as he glanced at my neck for a moment before he glanced at my neck for a moment before meeting my gaze. He did that a lot–stared at the hickey he gave me. And every time he did, this look would flash in his eyes just for a second, like he was overwhelmed with what it meant. 

“Have I ever told you just how much I like you?” 

My own lips tugged upwards. “Not nearly enogh.” 

He lifted our intertwined hands and pressed a kiss against my fingers, turning the flame that sizzled between us into a forest fire which burned pleasantly alond my veins. “I really, really like you, Y/N. Like, a lot.” 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Archie chuckled, his dimple teasing me. “Your pride’s going tto end up killing you one day.” 

I stuck my tongue out in response. And then. “Are you finished your milkshake? Or do you want to sit here all day and discuss more of your deepest, darkest secrets? The lunch menu did look pretty tempting…” 

Every day this week we had gone out for either breakfast, lunch or dinner, but never two in one. Archie would stroll into whatever room or class I was in all casual, and tell me to get ready, or tell me we were leaving. It had become a thing. Having lunch here would definitely break some kind of rule, and I personally liked the little routine we had going. 

“Definitely finished.” 

After paying the bill, Archnie and I exited the dinner and climbed inside his car. It wasn’t until we were ten minutes into the ride, singing along to the radio that I noticed we weren’t taking the usual route home. 

“Where are we going?” I asked. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not the line,” Archie replied, grinning. 

“Yeah, well, I’m free styling,” I dead-panned, turning down the radio. “And you’re deflecting.” 

He chuckled. “We’re going nowhere, babe.” 

Archie,” I groaned 

Y/N,” he mimicked 

“Come on, for all I know you could be taking me to a slaughterhouse where I finally meet my end.” 

The sound of Archie’s laughter filled the car. “A slaughterhouse? Seriously, where do you came up with this stuff? I’m going to start writting them down.” 

“Okay, so maybe I watch a lot of horror movies. Sue me.” 

“Yeah, don’t I know it.” 

Okay, and perhaps I had talked Archie into watching one or two horror movies with me, and it was very possible the he wasn’t the biggest fan of the genre. But in my defence, Veronica had forced Titanic on Betty and I three times in one week, and I fugured it was as good a way as any to replace the heartbreaking imagine of Leonardo DiCaprio sinking at the bottom of the ocea. 

There was totally enogh space on that door, contrary to Betty’s beliefs. 

“I take that a s no, then?” I said

Archie rolled his eyes. “You’re relentless. We relly are going nowhere, Y/N. I just feel like driving arond for a while.” 

“And why’s that?” I asked, not buying it. 

“Because I want you all to myself for a little longer before we have to go back home when privacy is a luxury the universe clearly doesn’t think we deserve.” 

Oh. 

A small smile toyed on the end of my mouth. “Okay,” I said, just like that. “You win. But if we’re just going to be driving around—” 

“No.” 

My mouth fell open at Archie’s abrupt interruption. “You don’t even know what I was going to say!” 

He rolled his eyes. “No, you can’t drive my car. Is that better?” 

So maybe I had asked Archie a few dozen times if he would let me drive, and maybe his answer was the same every time. And maybe I had stupidly told him about the incident with mymother’s car back in April. But I hadn’t sat behind the wheel of a car, much less driven one, since I’d got here. And with Riverdale territory, I was craving speed. 

Luckily for me, we reached a red light, so like the evil enchantress I was turning out to me, I leaned over and closer the gap between Archie and I. Resting one hand on his thigh, I whispered, “Please?” in his ear. 

Archie cleared his throat. “No.” 

Slowly, I dragged my fingers along the inside of his thigh, causing him o grip the steering wheel that little bit tighter. Then I pressed a kiss against the sensitive spot under his jaw, and when my tongue flicked out, tasting his warm skin, I knew I had him. 

Y/N.” 

“Mmm?” I hummed as I kissed along his neck, feeling his pulse vibrate against me. 

“You’re going to make me crash.” he said breathily, and I realised het the light must have turned green. When my tongue glided across his senstive spot again, Archie surrendered. “Fuck.Okay.” 

Just like that, I pulled away, settling back into my seat. “See, that wasn’t too hard, was it” I said, all casual, as if my pulse wasn’t fluttering out of control ass well. 

I was so going to Hell. 

Archie turned into an empty-one way street and pulled over on the side before pushing his seat as far as it was build to go, taking off his seatbelt and then taking off mine. 

“What are y—” 

Archie efforlessly lifted me from my seat, as if I was a feather, ignoring my surprised squeal. And then he placed me between his muscular thigs, my back pressed against him and his hands holding my waist. Luckily for him, his choice of transport today had been his spacious Range Rover, which had enogh room in the driver’s seat for us both, considering the fact that I was plastered all over him. 

I knew this was too good to be true. 

“Come on, you didn’t really think I was going to let you behind the wheel of my car all by yourself, did you, babe?” Archie said, his deep voice vibrating against me. I could feel his heart beating wildly, a sign that he was still flustered. 

I runed my head and glared at him, but his smut smirk only grew. “I’m not a child, Archie. This is ridiculous,” I huffed. 

“I prefer the term compromise.” And then “Well, what are you waiting for? I thought you wanted to drive.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

Still, I turned on the ignition and started driving, realising that Archie had purposefully choosen a desolate area where there was only a plethora of trees on both sides of the street. I could go as fast or as slow as I desired, and there was no way we were going to get pulled over for our very illegal seating arrangment. 

I hadn’t really been paying much attention to the fact that I was sitting between Archie’s thigs with my ass and back pressed against him, or to the fact that his delicious scent was clinging to me, or even the fact that I could feel every breath he took. But when his hands moved from my waist to rest on top of my thighs, thanks to the mini denim skirt I was wearing, the realisation hit me like a ton of bricks and it became very hard to concentrate. 

Archie much have noticed my grip tighten on the steering wheel. “What’s wrong?” he asked,, all sweet and casual. 

Guess he was going to be joining me in Hell. 

“Nothing,” I answered, speeding up a little bit. Yes, I thought. This was good. Go faster. 

And then Archie spread my legs apart ever so slightly and pressed a soft kiss under my ear, and everything inside me liquified. Payback was a bitch. 

“What are you doing?” I asked breathily, thankful that there we no cars or pedistrains lurking around because this was deifnition of dangerous, times a thousand. 

Archie’s tongue and teeth glided sensationally across my neck, pausing only to kiss my hickey. “Concentrate on driving Y/N,” he said in a low voice, his fingers trailing like tiny snakes along my thigs, travelling higher and higher. Goosebumps scattered all over my skin. 

“I can’t,” I rasped, leaning further against his solid chest. When I did, I felt that Archie was just as turned on as I was, and I knew then that I was definitely going to wrap this car around a tree. 

“You can,” he whispered, continuing to rain kisess all over my neck and collarbone. When he pushed my skirt up, fingers brushing slowly–painfully fucking–slowly against my lace panties. I all but slammed my foot down on the brake. 

Concentrate on driving, my ass. 

Archie chuckled into my neck, the sound deep and husky, and doing my arousal absolutely no favours. “Park on the side of the street.” 

I had never been so happy to follow one of Archie Andrew’s orders. 

Once I had safely parked, Archie turned me around so that I was stradding him, my skirt now pushed all the way up to my hips. His lips immediately found mine in a surprisingly soft, slow kiss, turning my bones into honey. It was like Archie needed me to know that this was all him– that he was in complete control. 

With our lips fused, I tugged the bottom of Archie’s henley, wanting to feel his skin and muscles in all their glory. We broke away for only a moment as he pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it on the passenger seat. 

Thank God for tinted windows and empty streets. 

And the hell with giving a damn. 

My hands snaked across Archie’s chest–across his heart– over his broad shoulders and rested on his muscular back. When his hand went in between my legs and his fingertip instantly found the right spot, stroking slowly and gently, everything inside me imploded wonderfully. 

Archie..” I moaned his name like my favourite prayer, titling my head back in pleasure. 

“Look at me,” Archie said, his deep voice coated in desire. 

I did as told, meeting Archie’s beautiful eyes, and then I felt the urge to kiss the life out of him. His mouth curled upwards in a half-smirk and then his finger slipped inside me, causing me to cry out in euphoria. 

Oh, my God.” 

“That’s not my name,” Archie said and I cold hear the wolfish grin in his voice as his fingers continued to caress and explore, sending a series of tremors down my entire body. Then he slipped another finger inside me and my nails clawed at his back, cluthing on for a dear life whilst his touch incinerated me. 

“Open your eyes, love.” 

I menaged to shake my head in response, unable to do anything other than gasp and moan waiting agonisingly for my release. This was pure heaven. 

Archie used his other hand— the one that wasn’t totally destroying all my self-control– to gently pull my chin towards him so he could kiss me, and another tsunami of delight crashed oover me. “Please?” he asked softly, lips gazing mine. 

My eyes fluttered open but they were hooded and I was so damn close to my release, I could feel the anticipation spreading all through my limbs. My nerves crackled and sputtered like sparklers before electicity surged through every atom in my body. 

“You’re the prettiest fucking person I’ve ever seen,” Archie rasped, his expression one of awe and appreciation. 

And then he finally granted me my release, and I exploded like a supernova, inadvertently dragging my nails alond Archie’s spine and digging then into his lower back as I cried out in pure, unadulterated exstasy. My lungs felt positively destroyed and I was sure my ribcage was going to shatter and splinter my organs, the sensation was that intense. I was left panting and most likely sweating as I leaned my head against Archie’s shoulder. 

Holy fucking shit. Archie Andrews was a goddamn wizard. 

I felt Archie raise his hand to his mouth and I knew, without even looking, that he was licking his fingers tasting me. “Perfect,” he mumbled. Then he pressed a kiss into my hair and let his hands go under my t-shirt, resting his palms on my lower back. I wrapped my arms around his neck: sitting like this, it felt something close to home.

“Sorry about your back. Think I drew blood,” I mumbled into his warm skin, though I had a suspicion that he actually liked it when I clawed his back. 

I felt his laugh before I head it. “It’s okay. Sorry in advance about your sore throat,” he teased. It was his fault for being so damnn good with his hands/ 

I lifted my head from his shoulder to stick my tongue out but stopped short when I was the look of absolute, unwavering devotion in his eyes, and the lazy smile on his face. He was the picture of serenity. So, instead, I kissed his chest, then his collarbone, his neck and then his jaw, which I felt clench. 

“Y/N,” Archie said. “I really, really don’t want our first time to be in a car.” 

I smiled and pressed a final kiss against his cheek before looking at him. 

“That’s good,” I replied. Neither did I. 

“I’m not a saint, though.” 

This time I laughed. “No shit?” 

“You’re terrible,” Archie responded. “And I’m being serious. Any self-control I had left is hanging by a thread. 

“If I’m not mistaken, you were the one who hive me a nuclear orgasm. I was merely an innocent bystander.” 

Archie grinned, dimples and all. “Nuclear, huh?” 

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up.” 

He chuckled. “Y/N Y/L/N, if I didn’t know you any better I’d say I just rocked your world. And it’s barely even midday.: 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Next time. I’ll do the honours.” 

Archie shook his head and looked up, like he was hoping the roof would open and then the sky would split in half and God would hand him some of that self-control he wanted to bad. “Our first time is not going to be in a car,” he told himself. 

I tried not to laugh. “You said that already,” 

“It’s not,” he insisted, and then groaned when I kissed the senstive spot under his jaw. Purgatory was completely out in the question for me. 

“What were you saying again?” 

And then In a flash, I was off Archie’s lap and sitting in the passenger seat, and he was wearing his henley again. I was laghing so hard whilst I put on my seatbelt. I thought I was going to run out of the little oxygen I had left in my lungs. 

“You,” Archie sad, out of breath, as he turned the car on, “Babe, are you sorceress.” 

“Pot. Kettle. Black.” 

“I didn’t remember you complaning.” 

This time I did stuck my tongue out. 

Archie just laughed. “Best breakfast ever.” 



I really, really hope you like it!



@sunshine51879 @isntskatesatan @dempsey-mantle @jellybeanjoncs @sweetvengeancee @archie-puppydogeyes-andrews @soninetynine @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @little-weirdo-13 @lusfulskam @amyyleblanc1999 @killjoyloki @annoyingsibling @voidobsession @krazyk99 @kamriii

Take a Seat - Pietro Maximoff Drabble

Originally posted by knowledgefordummies

Request: (by anon) pietro x reader + “Sit in my lap”

Words: 869

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this! :P I’m sorry if this is weird or cringe-worthy! How do you do the whole sexy thing? 

You had just won a tedious battle with your team, the Avengers. The battle waged for hours and caused extensive damage to the surrounding areas. Your bones ached, your muscles were sore, and you were covered in cuts and bruises. It was definitely a battle for the history books.

After such a battle, the team was starving and therefore thrilled when they came across a small diner that was still functional. Somehow Tony had convinced the owners to stay open and provide you all with some meals.

Everyone slumped into the diner and pushed a couple of unbroken tables together before plopping down into their chairs for a much-needed rest. You looked around at all the shattered glass and debris, trying to find an extra chair. Somehow, every chair that wasn’t already in use was smashed to bits. Just your luck!

You sighed heavily, not wanting to be on your feet a second longer. Despite that, you just leaned against the dusty counter, trying to shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“[Y/N], why don’t you sit down and join us?” Steve asked, slightly confused.

Your response was to pick up a busted bar stool to present as evidence.

“Oh.” Steve nodded. “Well here, take my seat.”

“No, you sit. You’re in worse shape than I am.” You dismissed him.

“Please, I insist.” You shook your head.

“Sit in my lap.” Pietro suggested, drawing all eyes towards him.

“That’s a little bold, don’t you think?” You raised an eyebrow.

Pietro had a habit of flirting with you, which usually you didn’t mind, but it wasn’t something you were up to dealing with while you were this dog-tired.

“No funny business, I promise. Just a friend helping a friend out.” He assured you.

“No ulterior motive?” You seemed suspicious.

“Cross my heart.” He drew an ‘x’ over his heart.

You reluctantly hobbled over to where he sat and carefully sat down on his lap, wincing as your body wanted to give out.

“There. Now was that so bad?” He smirked causing you to roll your eyes.

One of the owners came by and took your orders, while the other one double checked that the kitchen was still up to code. Miraculously, it seemed as if the kitchen was the only part in the whole place that was untouched by the battle.

You all silently rested as you waited for your food. After eating for a little while, you all started to regain some energy, lightening the mood a bit. You all began to talk about the battle. The good, the bad, what you could’ve done differently. Somehow you ended up geeking out over each other. 'Did you see Wanda do this’ or 'how about when Thor did that?’ The more you spoke, the more lively you all became.

Pietro excitedly recounted how he took out thirty enemies in ten seconds, his new record. One thing to know about the Sokovian was that when he got excited, he spoke with his hands. As he spoke, you could feel his arms flailing behind your back, which made you snicker. When he finished his story, he absentmindedly rested his hand on your upper thigh, causing your heart rate to increase slightly.

You tried to ignore it, but his touch was ever-present. Because of his super speed, he constantly radiated heat, which lead him to unintentionally ease your pain and relax your muscles. But it wasn’t just the temporary relief he caused that gave you comfort, it was just being in close proximity to him. You liked him and you often flirted back with him, but you were teammates so you never let yourself give in to him. Teammates shouldn’t date, it would be a bad idea. Wouldn’t it?

You slowly moved your opposite hand over to where his sat. He began to apologize before stopping once he realized that you weren’t pushing it away, but were instead holding it. Taking that as a hint that you were in a flirty mood now, he took and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You felt a hitch in your breath, which Piet must’ve noticed because the moment that nobody was looking he began peppering your shoulder and neck with sweet, soft kisses.

When the others looked in your direction next, they pretended not to notice as a blush crept up your neck.

“You know what,” you sighed, “I’m not really feeling well. So, I’m gonna go rest in the Quinjet while you guys finish eating.”

You weren’t fooling anyone, but nobody cared enough to call your bluff. So, you slowly got to your feet and slightly limped to the door.

“Now that you mention it, you don’t look like you’re in very good shape,” Pietro added, “let me help you.”

You nodded and in a flash, he was over to you and was carrying you bridal style before racing off.

“You think that’s just a friend helping another friend out?” Natasha smirked.

“You owe me twenty bucks.” Steve said to a cursing Tony.

anonymous asked:

Andreil meet when they get dragged into a bar fight and somehow end up in jail together 😇

When it comes to fight or flight, Neil has spent almost all of his life picking the latter. Except on an exy court, but even there, if he can get away from someone without getting hit, that is definitely the option he’s going with.

Which is why when he finds himself getting dragged away from a brawl, cuffed, tossed in the back of a police car, and driven to jail, it feels a little bit surreal.

He doesn’t even drink. He was at the club in the first place because Matt turned twenty-six at midnight and wanted to celebrate at a night out with all his friends. Most of them were drunk. Neil was not.

So he doesn’t have that as an excuse.

Still: his causes were noble, even if his actions weren’t. And his personal moral philosophy has always been strictly on the side of “ends justify the means,” especially if the ends are keeping his drunk best friend from getting robbed on the floor of a nightclub by a couple of guys twice Neil’s size.

Matt is pretty good in a fight most of the time, but drunk and concussed, he’s not much help. Neil took on all three of the guys on his own anyway—his job being, after all, at least partially just fighting people—and was about to lose very badly when a stranger joined in.

Neil didn’t expect the stranger to be on his side. The stranger was.

And now they’re in the back of a cop car together.

Keep reading

listen, it’s not about being “fandom trash” anymore

I’ve watched an absurd amount of videos about them, I’ve fantasize about how being their friend would be like, I’ve procrastinated from all the work I have to do just to go on youtube and re-watch all of their videos, I’ve read and written fanfiction about them.

I’ve had enough, okay?

I’ve crossed a line I didn’t even knew existed

Their presence has ruined my life to an extent and i am putting my foot down.

I don’t want to be addressed as “fandom trash” anymore

I shall be named

Zealot detritus

Archie Andrews Imagine

‘Extraordinary Measures’

Cheerleader/Football Archie Imagine #1

Summary:  Y/n is a cheerleader on the River Vixens and has a date with her quarterback boyfriend, Archie. The only problem is Cheryl won’t end practice.

Word Count: 1603

request:  Hi~ can you please do a cute archie x cheerleader reader? 🖤

a/n: I know actually nothing about cheer (even though I have so much respect for the sport) so I did a tiny bit of research for this. Sorry if I got any cheer lingo wrong or messed something up. Let me know and I’d be happy to adjust it! // Also I wasn’t sure if the request wanted a Friday night football game kind of story so I kind of just did what I thought would be cool, but now I definitely want to write more cheerleader/football!archie stuff so be on the lookout. (Requests are open!)

 —

“Don’t mess, don’t mess,

don’t mess with the best ‘cause the best don’t mess!

Don’t fool, don’t fool,

don’t fool with the cool ‘cause the cool don’t fool!

From the east to the west

the Bulldogs are the best!

B-E-A-T beat ‘em! B-U-S-T bust ‘em!

Beat ‘em, bust ‘em, that’s our custom! Come on Bulldogs readjust ‘em!

Gooo Bulldogs!”

You along with the rest of the River Vixens were breathing heavily after running another cheer, it could practically be called panting. You were the flyer, with three equally exhausted bases under you including Betty and Veronica, finished in a liberty position with your hands in a high v. You’d been practicing for close to four hours – with no water break. Cheryl was always aggressive but this was a new high even for her.

“That was great ladies,” Cheryl yelled standing up from her spot on the bleachers. You looked down to Veronica and Betty and smiled in relief; it’d been a long day of getting yelled at by Cheryl and this seemed like progress. “Except that it wasn’t. It was actually terrible,” she walked down the bleachers toward the squad, putting an extra emphasis on ‘actually’. “My grandmother could cheer that better than you sacks-of-potatoes-with-skirts-and-ponytails that call yourselves ‘cheerleaders’. And she’s been dead since Obama’s first term.” Your face fell. You should have known. This was Cheryl Blossom we’re talking about.

The bases helped you down and you all gave each other long, knowing stares with heavy eyes. “I swear to god, I’m gonna go New York on her,” Veronica threatened. All the Vixens were thoroughly done with Cheryl for the day. Unfortunately, though, it didn’t seem that she was done with you.

She pulled out her megaphone for added drama. It’s not like she needed it. Even if her voice wasn’t extremely loud and high pitched enough to make dogs bark from a mile away, she was only standing like fifteen feet in front of you. “Why don’t we run ‘Be Aggressive’. Is that simple enough for you guys? Can your tiny little pigeon-brains handle that? And if it’s as bad as the rest of practice has been, it better be because all of you are puking your brains out or morbidly injured!”

Everyone was parched and needed a break. You decided it was worth a try. “Cheryl?” All eyes turned to you with shock and desperation. She cocked her head, egging you on and crossed her arms, waiting for you to continue.

Normally you would just deal with Cheryl and imagine something really embarrassing happening to her to make yourself feel better, but today she had put you in an especially bad mood. You we’re supposed to be going out with your boyfriend, Archie, soon but it didn’t look like she had any intention of ending practice in the near future. He was the school’s quarterback so he would be finishing up football practice any minute and you guys were supposed to be finished with rehearsal half an hour ago.

“Uh, I was wondering if maybe we could get some water?” You asked with an especially pathetic expression and your best puppy dog eyes without being obvious. She gave you a blank expression and stared at you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Like 15 Mississippi seconds.

“You know what?” she probed, still using the unnecessary megaphone, “Yes, you girls can get water. But only because if I have to listen to you imbeciles butcher another simple cheer, I’m going to Van Gogh both my ears off, and I mean that. Be back in two minutes.”

A couple of girls ran up to you graciously but most just ran to their water to make the most of the time that was given. Two minutes in Cheryl-time was pretty different from two minutes in real-time. Just then, the football team parted ways signaling the end of practice. Some guys went to their cars but a lot stayed behind to watch the cheerleaders practice. It was kind of creepy but football normally got out after cheer so it wasn’t usually a problem.

Archie, jogged over to you with his gear still on and his helmet in his hand. He smiled at you with crinkly eyes and ran his fingers through his disheveled copper hair. “How’s my favorite River Vixen?”

You forwent an actual greeting and instead just yelled “WATER,” at him, grabbing the green bottle in his bag with the Gatorade logo on it and gulped it. It came out a little more desperate and forceful than intended but you figured he got the general ‘welcome’ message. When you finally came up for air he looked at you in awe and gave a chuckle, “Well hello to you too.”

“Sorry, it’s just Cheryl’s been crazy all practice. This is literally the first water break we’ve gotten.”

“Cheryl? Crazy? How new and different for her.” He leaned in to kiss you but you dipped out of the way.

“I promise you don’t want to kiss me Arch, I’m really sweaty.” You handed him the bottle back.

“Yeah, but I’m really sweaty too so it cancels out,” he leaned in and kissed you softly.

You smiled up at him, “Ah yes, simple algebra. How could I forget?”

The nice moment you were sharing was interrupted by the sound of nails on a chalkboard, also known as Cheryl Blossom’s voice through a megaphone, “ONE MINUTE”.

Your head whipped around back to your boyfriend. You HAD to get out of this practice, and you had an idea of how. “Archie.”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to stomp on my foot right now.”

He shook his head in confusion, “What? Why? You’re kidding, right?”

“Archie please. I don’t have time for questions. Cheryl is gonna kill me, at least if I don’t get to her first. Now just please stomp on my foot. With the cleat, she’ll check for damage.”

“You’re not kidding. Y/n! no! I’m not just going to crush your foot. Are you crazy?”

“Come on!” you pleaded with him. You looked over at Cheryl. You could tell even from this far away that she was getting increasingly impatient which meant that you were running out of time. “You don’t even have to stomp that hard! Just like, leave a mark or something, I’ll act out the rest!”

“Y/n, I’m not going to stomp on your foot.”

“Archie,” you widened your eyes at him and talked slowly and deliberately. “I swear to the lord above if you do not stomp on my foot, with cleat, right now, then I will not talk to you for a solid week. I swear.”

He opened his mouth to say something, contemplating what to do. He really didn’t want to hurt your foot but he knew that, strangely, you would be really mad at him if he didn’t.

Cheryl’s voice rang from the megaphone, “LET’S TAKE IT FROM THE TOP VIXENS!”

Archie went against his better judgment, lifting his foot about two feet off the ground and slammed it down onto your soft sneaker.

“SHIT!” You buckled over and grabbed your foot in pain, balancing yourself by holding onto Archie with your other hand.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I really didn’t want to –”

“It’s fine, Arch. That was perfect. But I will need you to carry me over to Cheryl. She’ll want to see this.”

He put the rest of his equipment in his bag and lifted you up bridal style and headed towards the cheer squad. “Cheryl’s going to kill me right?” “Probably.”

She had her back turned to you as she was yelling at a freshman about how her hair looked unprofessional. “Cheryl?” You called out to her. She whipped around and her jaw dropped.

“What did you do to my flyer Andrews?!”

He cautiously answered her, “I’m really sorry, I just accidentally stepped on her foot with my cleat…”

“Which foot?!” Her eyes were wide with rage. You lifted your leg to indicate. She walked swiftly over to you and roughly pulled off your sneaker, making you wince a bit in pain. Sure enough, Archie’s cleats had left their mark. Your foot was red and it was obvious you couldn’t do anymore flying today. She threw the shoe into your hand that wasn’t wrapped around Archie’s neck. “Next time keep your big clown feet to yourself Boo Boo the fool.” She turned and walked towards her place in the bleachers. “Get out of my sight Y/n and put some ice on the foot. It better be healed by next practice,” she warned over her shoulder.

You looked at Archie, “I think… we’re free to go.” You looked back at the squad and saw Betty and Veronica getting into formation to run something. Betty reached her arm out dramatically towards the two of you and you could see Veronica mouth the words ‘Take us with you’. You reached back mirroring Betty’s motion as Archie turned away and walked towards his car.

“At least now we can make our dinner reservation. I got us a table at this great place called Pop’s. You probably haven’t heard of it, it’s pretty underground.” Archie quipped.

“Oh yeah? Sounds cute. I really will need some ice when we get there though. You know you actually stepped on me pretty bad,” you said to him, knowing how it would make him react.

“Are you kidding me? You forced me to do it! You threatened me!”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding relax. I will need some ice though.”

“What are you? Some kind of masochist?”

“Mr. Grey will see you now.”

Kiss My Ass - Stiles Stilinski/Mitch Rapp AU [Smut]

Author: @writing-obrien

Character(s): Stiles Stilinski/Reader, Mitch Rapp/Reader, Scott McCall, Malia Tate, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar and some guy called Remington.

Word Count: 22, 488 and I’m not even sorry about it.

Notes: Well, here it is! The highly anticipated ‘Kiss My Ass’ fic to honour reaching 2000 followers alongside the competition, so I really hope you guys enjoy this because I worked on it for MONTHS. I need to thank some girls, because this would not have been done without them. Thank you to my wonderful babes @dumbass-stilinski and @rememberstilinski and @sincerelystiles and the @thelittlestkitsune and @stilinski–jpeg because without them this would not be complete, I owe them big time. Especially Steff, who proofread this entire fucking thing. Shout-out to her for not flying to England and stabbing my enough times to match the word count. So warnings, hmmm.. we have cheating, bleeding, injury, kidnapping, hostages, and major character death. on the side I know you’re all here for we’ve got oral (both receiving), many different positions, over-stimulation, squirting, first-times, masturbation, public sex, and teasing.


Originally posted by teenwxlves


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Auntie Bells

by reddit user Pippinacious

Auntie Bells wasn’t really my auntie, or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m not sure she even had any real family at all. It was just what everyone called her. She’d been a fixture in the neighborhood since long before I was born and there wasn’t a single person who didn’t at least know of her.

She was something of a living legend; a crazy cat lady type without the cats. It wasn’t unusual to look out your window in the dead of night and see Auntie Bells shuffling down the street, big walking stick clutched in one hand, her tameless hair shining white in the moonlight. And if you didn’t see her, you’d hear her. Auntie Bells took her name from the bracelets she wore on both wrists, strands of twine run through a countless number of tiny bells that tinkled with her every movement.

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I’ll Show You

Author: @sincerelystiles
Pairing: Stiles x Reader
Word Count: 4,609 (I’M SORRY)

Warnings: strong language, kissing, teasing, oral (male recieving), unprotected sex, fingering 

requested by @ephemeral-stilinski
A/N: I KNOW THIS TOOK ME SO LONG AND I’M SORRY BUT IT’S FINALLY HERE, SO ENJOY!

Originally posted by itsagirlthingbae


I pinch the bridge of my nose, eyes squinting in frustration and anger, trying to wrap my head around her words. “I’m sorry.” 

I take a deep breath, finally opening my eyes and staring into hers. She didn’t seem bothered. Her eyes weren’t watering like mine, her face didn’t hold the same sad, contorted expression as mine did. Although, why should it? We were nothing serious, just fooling around. 

“I just wish you told me sooner.” I huff, taking yet another deep breath in attempt to steady my rising heart rate. There was no denying I had accidentally caught feelings along the way of our hookups. Someone was bound to, and that just so happened to be me. Am I surprised? No, because this is the type of dumb shit I pull daily, and I’m honestly beginning to question every choice in life I’ve ever made. 

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And I Thought You Might Be Mine

*click through to read on ao3

Written by: Nai | @hiddenpolkadots
Prompt: Tol: is that my shirt?
Smol, wearing a shirt that goes down to their knees: … no
words: 2500


Bellamy is aware that living with Clarke was going to come with some challenges.

(Or, as Octavia put it, rather excitedly, “It’s going to be a total fucking shitshow, and Raven and I have a bet going on who would commit murder first.”)

But despite their friends utmost certainty that things were going to crash and burn within the first week, they’ve been happily living together for the past six months, so he made sure to tell them to suck it after they hit the two week mark, because he’s a responsible adult.

That isn’t to say that it’s a walk in the park either. He and Clarke still argue about every little thing, but that’s just how they communicate. Now they just add arguing about domestic things such as whose turn it is to do the dishes, or why hasn’t he taken out the trash yet into the mix as well. He maybe likes it a bit too much, but no one needs to know about that.

He’s also become privy to a lot more of her quirks which- he likes to think that being friends, or at least acquaintances, with Clarke for over four years meant that he knew her fairly well, but once they move in, it becomes a whole other story.

For example, he learns that despite being left handed, she brushes her hair and teeth with her right, she always has to keep a full cup of water on her bedside table at night, and she needs more pillows than necessary to sleep.

Perhaps the most interesting quirk of hers is that she’s always stealing his clothes, all the fucking time.

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Mind on a Mission

A/N: Part 2 of the series Rotation.

// Another Man’s Treasure // Mind on a Mission // Take the Lead // Worth the Pain // Wings of Butterflies


A loud, obnoxious humming noise stirred you. Your eyes were tired and it took a lot of effort to pry them open between sleep and dried makeup gluing them together. An empty bottle, jewelry, and hairpins fell to the floor as you searched the bedside table for your phone. The buzzing stopped for a few seconds, meaning your caller had given up, and so did your hunt. But the table vibrated again shortly after.

“Hello?” you croaked into the receiver, rubbing your eyes in effort to remove the sleep.

“Don’t you sound lovely,” Harry laughed. “Guess I don’t have to ask how yeh feeling.”

“God, what time is it?” you moaned. Light was filtering through your blinds, so it was clearly morning and you’d still have time to get things done, but it felt like you had only just fallen asleep.

“Almost one.”

“One?” you sputter, sitting straight up in bed. So much for being productive. Blood rushed to your head causing it to swim and you noticed the piercing headache pulsing through your entire skull and the dry, cottony feel to your tongue and mouth.

“Yeah.” He laughed again. It’s a lovely sound; deep and a bit throaty, and, dare you think it, quite sexy. “Listen, did Tommy take care of yeh at all last night? Yeh sound like you’ve been through Hell, Bubbles.”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, gently sitting back in bed. “He left not even an hour later. Said I was a real downer with all my crying.”

“Ah, he never has dealt with emotions very well.” Harry toyed with his bottom lip, really thinking hard about what to say next. If he closed his eyes and ran his finger over his lips just so he could almost feel you on them again.

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Dawn

Dawn is my little sister. When I was 11 and she was just a tiny baby, I hurt her really badly. I didn’t know what I did was going to cause so much trouble. I just wanted to do something nice. Something that would make us happy.

My parents made me go away for a long time. I didn’t understand why everyone was so angry. I missed my sister terribly. Even worse, I felt betrayed by the people I’d expected to understand me.

After six years of hospitalization, I got to see her again. My parents had passed away in a car accident while I was gone and I went to live with my aunt and uncle. Both were psychologists. Both understood the problem I apparently had. Still, they believed I’d learned to cope with it over the course of my rehabilitation. And they were right. I would never hurt anyone again. The mere thought of it was abhorrent.

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In The Land of Monsters

I was always afraid of the gym. Of the monsters that lurked within. A land of giants I had no place intruding.

Sports, fitness and I were never on very good terms, especially when I was a teenager. I was the academic, the imagineer, the dreamer, the geek, the nerd. Whichever way you cut it, there was very much a difference between myself and my “sporty” peers. I’m not going to say “jocks”, because growing up in England we never had that kind of tribalism. But I was a peaceful soul who preferred to bury himself in books and science fiction; they were the brutes who pushed me against the corridor walls, gave me physical and mental torment for my lack of caring for my appearance, for my indifference to their ways. I didn’t even support a football (soccer) team, which in England is nearly as much a capital offence as non-support of rugby is in New Zealand.

Teenage Beastpup in England

So picture me as a young man going through puberty, being inspired by the muscular physiques of bodybuilders like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Jay Culter, Flex Wheeler, Markus Ruhl… monsters, stirring something within me. A desire to be more. A desire to change. To express myself through growth.

But I was scared.

No matter how much I wanted it…I felt I could never, ever join a gym. It would be torture… I’d be like chum in a pool of sharks. Surely from the moment I stepped foot inside my tender, nerd-like nature would be sniffed out by the others, and I would be mocked, tortured anew. Or even then, could I handle seeing how skinny I was compared to the others, when my body dysmorphia took over? Or would my family and friends even understand and join in the mocking that I, the twig, was trying to change himself in the gym? And people would see how sexual it was for me. How much I wanted it… I could never be normal enough… could never get over all these mental hurdles…

 Until the day I did.

Moving to New Zealand in my early 20s brought a lot of changes and positive adjustments to my life. Away from my past, I was free in a new place to start anew. It took many, many months of convincing myself still, but at last I had enough of always wanting and never having. At long last… I was going to join a gym. It was now or never.

 And so my mission began.

Because I couldn’t just walk in there! Oh no. Couldn’t just waltz into the natives encampment… I had to disguise myself first. I had to present myself to the tribe as one of them. Prior to going to the gym, I took myself off to the local sportswear store which was in of itself terrifying as a place I’d never stepped foot in. I despised those overpriced, branded goods put together in sweatshop factories by kids overseas… but for this, I would make the leap. I bought my clothes… a gym bag. Looked up online, I think, what people normally took to the gym… water bottle, towel. It took me a week to psych myself up but finally… I did it. I entered the land of monsters.  I went to the local gym and like a meek doormouse, asked the young lady at the reception if I could join.

 Everything that happened after was so very, very different from all my fears. I was welcomed. I was taken in, I was given my induction by helpful trainers… they equipped me with the confidence to be in that environment, and weren’t intimidating at all! Nor were the other guys there… everyone was just doing their own thing. No torture, no mocking. Just a common pursuit. Fitness. Growth.

The years since have been a blur; a lot has happened in my life. But the gym has always been there… it went from feeling like an alien outpost, to something else. Home. I am at home in the gym. I live for it. I know it. It has become my playground. My stomping ground. And just this week I looked in the mirror, now that I have grown, and I can see staring back at me:

I am now the monster I was afraid of.

 I made my dream come true, and in the process lost my fears. And I’ll say to anyone; you can have this too. You can be it. But if you still have your fear, I understand. But you don’t have to be afraid of the monsters. You’ll be one of them if you want. You just have to work. You just have to leave fear behind.

Happy growing…

 - Beast June 2017

Call Me Four-O Four-O Four-O

My tribute to our lord and savior, Mr Gerard Arthur Way, who finally made it to his forties! From one seventies child to another, welcome, sir!

You like fatherhood, comfy clothes, meditation, going for walks, and cats. You still can’t swim, you still can’t dance (much) and you still don’t know karate. Face it, you’re not getting any younger.

I don’t wanna be younger, I just wanna…

Well if you wanted youthfulness, that’s all you had to say.
Cause I got genes to make you cry or make you go, how does he look this way?
For all the Britpop looks, the photographs that Kerrang! took,
Remember when I broke my foot from Frankie jumping onto me?

I’m not thirty
I’m not thirty
I’m not thirty
You wear me out

What will it take to show you that MyChem is really dead?
(I’m not thirty)
I’ve told you time and time again but you can’t seem to get it in your head
(I’m not thirty)
You think Frerard was real, you loved it when my roots were teal
But that was then and anyhow for the last time, I write comics now!

Forget about the Revenge looks
The photographs my boyfriend that Frankie took
You said you read me like a book, but the pages all are Doom Patrol

I’m forty
I’m forty!
I’m forty, now
(I’m forty, now)

But you really need to listen to me
Because I’m telling you the truth
I mean this, I’m forty!
(Trust Me)

I’m not thirty
I’m not thirty
Well, I’m not thirty
I’m not thir-fucking-ty
I’m not thirty
I’m not thirty
(Forty)

Not In That Way

Word Total: 337…  

Request: None… I just had stuck that in my head

Pairing: Jeff x Reader (13RW)

Y/N rolled her eyes scanning the enumeration of the books align on the shelves. The book she was looking for was on the top of the bookshelf. “Great” she huffed putting her hand on her waist and tapped her foot. Y/N glanced to the sides and saw that no one was in the corridors.

A.   She could climb on the shelves and get her book

Or

B.   Ask for help

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and took a deep breath setting her foot on the first shelf and glanced again at the corridors. “Perfect” she smiled and put her hand on the second shelf.

“What are you doing?”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she looked at the direction of the voice. “I was tying my shoe” she lied and put her feet down the linoleum floor.

“Right, imaginary shoe laces?”

“Shut up, Jeff. I was trying to climb to get my damn book. There happy” She mumbled under her breath looking down at the absence of laces on her shoes. Y/N crossed her arms across her chest,

“Now if you excuse me, I need my book” she turned her attention back to the shelf.

Y/N felt a presence behind her and she looked at the tall baseball player looking down at her. “Which one?”

“I can do it myself thank you very much, you can go and do your stuff” Y/N said biting the inside of her cheek. Why was he talking to her? Didn’t he have more important thing to do? Like talk to a prettier girl and not her. “If you want to help just see if anyone comes”

“It’s easier if you tell me which book you want?”

Jeff insisted and Y/N rolled her eyes. “I can do it myself”

“And I insist, which book?”

Y/N looked at him; Jeff didn’t seem to back off from her negatives. “The one about the beginnings of WWII”

Jeff smiled at her as he easily stretched his arm and handed her the book.

“You’re cute.”

“Damn. I was going for intimidating and vaguely threatening.”

The Past On Your Doorstep - AU

Dean x Reader

Summary: After more than 4 years Dean knocks on your door, surprising the hell out of you. Then it’s his turn to be surprised when he sees a little girl standing next to you.

A/N: Moving this fic from my side blog @canyonic to my main one.

Word Count: 1900+

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