jesus what are you doing emily

Ever Since You Left

A Shawn Mendes fanfiction. 

A/N: Part one. I swear I’ll update this one LOL. Shoutout to @whitechocolateperfection for literally everything about this lmao

“Don’t you think we should tell him?”

It was the question I’d been avoiding ever since Shawn’s coming home party had been scheduled. Now the day had arrived, and Shawn was on his plane, on the way. I was nervous, to say the least, as I always was when it came to Shawn. There was something between us that had never been discussed, that we’d never bothered to dip our toes in in fear of the pond being deeper than meets the eye. All throughout high school we played the game of will they or won’t they. We were close, and the feelings felt between us were strong enough to make our friends feel awkward when we went into our own little world. That’s all it was though, and all it would ever be.

I was with Brian now.

Keep reading

I think what bothers me over everything Emison vs Paily now that I have a clear mind, and can see things without clouded anger, is how impulsive Em is with relationships. Instead of slowing down and thinking about what she truly wants, she’ll jump at any opportunity of a relationship - going from one frying pan to the next without cooling down.

  • Maya leaves, immediately jumps to Samara
  • Maya dies, immediately jumps to Paige
  • Leaves Paige, immediately jumps to Ali
  • Can’t trust Ali, immediately jumps back to Paige
  • Paige leaves, immediately jumps to Talia
  • Talia is a mess/disappears, immediately CLINGS onto Sara
  • Moves to Cali with Paige, breaks up, goes to italy and becomes a womanizer (according to mk and shay)
  • Comes back to Rosewood single, jumps to Sabrina

But according to Emily, when she saw Paige she was hoping for another shot at dating….so you mean while Emily was with Sabrina, she wanted Paige but really wanted Alison above all? Why stress yourself like this?? Why can she not just slow down, have a come-to-jesus moment, find herself, understand what she truly wants, and stay with that? Why when things look bleak somewhere, she’ll instantly want to jump in the pants of someone else? I didn’t care much for Sabrina but Emily led her on like hell knowing damn well she was too occupied to be with someone.

That is true fuckboy behavior lmao if Emily was a guy and was doing all this “I want to be with you and I want to be with you but I really want to be with you” kind of shit, we would drag him all throughout the jungles Nicole was kidnapped in.

We All Fall Down - Seven

Over the next few days you sunk back into old habits. The first morning after the funeral you awoke to find the house empty. Not even a note from Spencer telling you where he had gone. You couldn’t text him, you’d smashed your cell a while ago in frustration, never bothering to replace it, and there was no landline in the house either. You pottered around, opening doors to the rooms upstairs and discovering that Spencer was sleeping in what must have been Henry’s room for when he stayed over. His bags were in there and the bed clothes on the child sized bed were slept in.

You wondered why, having observed that was another guest bedroom which you had passed by. When you went back to check it out though, it became apparent that mattress was shot to pieces. Anyone sleeping on that bed would need a trip to the chiropractors. The bed did seem slept in though that led you to believe that he must have at least attempted this room first. During your wanderings you located the master bedroom. You could see that Diana must have emptied a good portion of her belongings out already, or perhaps Jennifer and Will had. Every surface though was still littered with pill bottles, dressings, cream. Some names you recognised as painkillers and muscle relaxants, codeine, diazapan, tramadol. Others you’d never heard of before, tarceva, sunitinab. Next to one side of the bed was a drip stand, an empty saline bag still hanging there. There was an odd smell to the room too, something you couldn’t quite place. If you looked beyond the mess, the room was huge and although one side of the bed looked raised (pressure pads added to the mattress you discovered), you’d bet that if the sheets were changed and the room aired out, it would make for a loverly room. Given its current state though, you could see why Spencer had chosen Henry’s room.

You took in the downstairs, room by room. A large kitchen which you’d seen already with a casual dining area. A grand looking dining room which looked like it hadn’t been used in years. A large sitting room with beautiful window seats which in a different life, you could have imagined yourself loving. There was a study that doubled up as a library, works by both William and Spencer Reid adorning the shelves along with the classics. And there was another study room, a tiny area with medical texts stacked on overflowing shelves, Diana’s study you assumed.

After realising that you couldn’t exactly leave the house as you couldn’t even find a set of keys to lock up, you wandered back to the kitchen. Although the fridge had been stocked by Jennifer it was with basics only. Butter, milk, a few packets of deli meat. There was still bread that was in date and you located a pantry with a large chest freezer of which the contents had frozen over so badly you couldn’t ever chip a packet out to see what it contained. There were also some tins and jars lining the dusty shelves, their expiration dates past. The only thing of real interest that you found was a wine rack. Not finding anything better to do with your day, you grabbed a bottle and took it back to the sitting room, flicking on the TV and channel surfing until you found a cooking show marathon.

You slept on and off, curled up on the sofa and trying to ignore the noises of the house settling. After draining one bottle, you went and made yourself a sandwich, it barely registering that there wasn’t anything for Spencer to eat when he came home. Grabbing another bottle you retreated to your spot on the sofa, remaining there until around 9pm. With no sign of your husband returning, you took yourself off to bed, crashing until the morning.

The next day you repeated your actions, finding the house empty again. You knew Spencer had been home, you’d poked your head into Henry’s bedroom, seeing the sheets in a different position to the day before. When you entered the kitchen, there were empty take out cartons on the counter. A piece of paper was taped across the two empty bottles you’d deposited on the counter top last night.

“The moving company are bringing our things today. Be sober enough to let them in. The front door opens on a yale lock.”

So you could open it from the inside but if you let it shut and you were on the other side of the door, you couldn’t get back in. If this wasn’t his parents house, you’d have thought he’d had that type of lock installed on purpose. Still, at least you could open it. Upon discovering that the back door was also the same sort of lock, you pulled back the dead bolts, jammed the door open with a chair and ventured outside. The garden would have once been beautiful but was now overgrown and unkept. Diana had had her hands full with other things. Locating the garbage bins, you disposed of the wine bottles and take out containers and went back inside, taking up your spot on the couch. After around an hour of yet another reality show marathon, you heard the tell tale sign of a large vehicle pulling up, and moments later a door bell you didn’t even know was there, sounded.

The movers made quick work of unloading box after box into the hallway and sitting room, stacking them against the walls. You felt bad, wanting to offer them a drink or something, but the milk was out of date as of this morning and you didn’t think they’d take kindly to being offered wine. You couldn’t even tip them, Spencer hadn’t left you any cash. After they left you sighed, surveying the mountains of boxes, not having the first clue what to do with them. Spotting a few labelled as your room, you carefully carried them up to the room you had been sleeping in, stashing them in a corner. You ignored the rest, not wanting to risk doing something to upset Spencer further. At least it was just boxes and not furniture, Spencer had sold the New York apartment fully furnished. Your stomach rumbled and you went in search of something to eat. You lucked upon a jar of honey, remembering that Spencer had once told you that it was the only first that never expired. It had crystallised slightly but that somehow made it tastier. Toasting some slightly stale but definitely not moldy bread, you sat and ate honey on toast.  Afterwards you wandered around downstairs, spotting a wooden cabinet in the dining room which upon opening its doors, rewarded you with a choice of rum, whisky, gin, vodka, some deep copper coloured liquid which had lost its label which you suspected to be brandy, and some tequila. You settled on the gin, not realising you had left the cabinet doors open. Scrawling “food?” on a piece of paper and taping it to the fridge, you took the gin to bed. You glugged down a good portion of the bottle, wincing at the taste before climbing into bed and falling into that altered reality of not quite being asleep but not quite being awake.

The next morning was different. When you peeled your eyes open there was a note taped to the inside of the bedroom door.

“I’ll bring food home later. Make yourself useful instead of draining my mother’s liquor cabinet and actually start unpacking. Oh, and this room reeks. Have you even showered recently?”

You sniffed the air, wrinkling up your nose when you realised he was right. But what was the point in showering when you had nowhere to go. And how were you meant to unpack when you didn’t have the first clue where anything was to go?

The doorbell sounding pulled you put of your wonderings and you make your way downstairs, peering through the peephole and seeing your neighbour, Emily. As much as you wanted to ignore her you didn’t feel able to. You pulled open the door, hoping she wouldn’t judge too much.

“Hey Y/N! So I catered for a party last night and made way too much food. I always used to bring the leftovers here for Diana so I thought maybe you’d appreciate them instead? I know how it is moving house and stuff.”

She held out a foiled covered tray and your stomach literally growled with delight.

“Can I come in for a sec?”

You moved to one side and let her in. She didn’t even try to hide her curiosity, her eyes raking over the boxes lining the halls.

“Lots to do eh?”

You nodded. “I don’t even really know where to begin either.”

“Well when Tara and I moved, we started with the bedrooms,” she offered, looking around still.

“I would but… Well the master bedroom is still full of medical equipment and stuff. I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Give Diana a call and ask her. She’ll probably arrange for it to be taken to a free clinic or somewhere where they can get some use out of it. She wouldn’t want things like that to be wasted but I can understand why she’s not been back to do it herself. Still, thought JJ might have come to give you a hand.”

“I would call her but I erm…. I don’t have her number,” you shuffled your feet awkwardly. “Or a phone. I broke mine a while ago and have made do without. And there doesn’t appear to be a landline.”

The truth was that you’d smashed it up yourself after your last interaction with Derek. And since then you just hadn’t bothered. It had suprised you how easily you’d come to live without it. There were days when you’d have spent hours online, watching shows or just clicking through articles on the internet. Now you spent hours staring at the ceiling.

“You don’t have a cell? Jesus Christ, I don’t know how I’d even live without mine,” Emily pulled out her phone and started scrolling through her contacts. “I’ll call Diana though.”

You started to protest, “Wait! It’s fine! You don’t have to,” but she already had the phone to her ear. You waited, listening to the one sided conversation.

“Hey Diana, how you doing?….. Yes thank you, yup….yup. Hahaha… You betcha I will….. Listen, I’m at the house with Y/N and the poor thing is surrounded by boxes with nowhere to put them…. Yeah…. Yeah… Yup, she mentioned the master bedroom too…. That’s what I thought. No, it’s cool, I’ll tell her…. No it’s fine! Don’t you worry…. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye!”

She disconnected the call and turned to face you. “She says that she’s very sorry she hasn’t been around to see you here yet or to help out, but to box any of her and William’s things up and make yourself at home. She said that if you bring all the medicine and equipment diwnstairs, she’ll arrange for JJ or Will to pick it up. Anything else you can stash in the attic, and that’s there’s some empty storage boxes in the closet in the smaller guest room. So basically, have at it.”

So now you had no real excuse to not begin. Emily stepped a little closer, her nose wrinkling up slightly.

“What’s that I can smell?”

Your cheeks flamed red. “I erm… It’s me, I think.” You thought quickly, seeing her eyes widen slightly. “I’ve not very well over the last few days so I’ve mainly been sleeping. I haven’t really had chance to clean up.”

“Oh! Is everything okay? I can call Tara and get her to call around this evening? It’s no bother.”

“No!” a little too loudly. “No, honestly Emily. It’s fine. It’s just migraines. I get them quite often.” So apparently even you were using Spencer’s lie.

She still looked a little concerned but dropped it. “Okay, well if you’re sure… I gotta be going anyway. I’ll pop back in the next few days, give you a hand with things. See ya soon!”

You didn’t get chance to protest, she was gone as quickly as she’d arrived.

You took a deep breath, ignoring the scent of yourself. You’d bathe later. Now, apparently you had a job to do.

You worked for hours, after devouring half of the tray of food Emily had bought over first. That woman sure could cook, and the little cupcakes that she’d included were to die for. After fueling up and locating the storage boxes, black garbage sacks, and a linen closet, you decided that you would attempt to do some thing nice for a change. It couldn’t be comfortable for a 6ft 1 man to be sleeping on a bed made for a child so you decided to try to make the master bedroom habitable. You threw the windows in the room wide open at first and then set about striping the bed, folding the pressure pads down as small as you could and stashing them in a box, and then stripping the bed. You completely emptied out two of the chests of drawers, folding up any clothes you found and bagging any dressings and creams separately. It was weird going through his parents drawers, not that you were when particularly looking at anything, just moving item from one place, to a storage container. You spent a good hour just on the closet alone, carefully folding expensive looking suits and wondering what Diana was going to do with William’s things. Perhaps she’d donate them to charity?

After taking a small breather, you started hauling box by box downstairs, grabbing one of the boxes labelled with Spencer on them, each time you returned upstairs. Your arms were going to ache terribly tomorrow but you actually felt like you were being useful and that sparked a tiny piece of happiness inside you. You located a vacuum and duster, giving the room a once over a removing the good few layers of dust that was clouding the air. Finally, you flipped the mattress and remade the bed, thinking that if Spencer didn’t want the room perhaps you could have it? Spotting a few more pill bottles that had slipped between the bed and the cabinets at its side, you picked them up and took them downstairs, placing them in front of the box of medication you put together. One was almost empty, it’s cap falling off as you settled it down.

By now, it was getting late and you felt achey and grimey. You grabbed a quick glass from the kitchen, filling it with the last inch or two of whisky from the liqueur cabinet and snagged another cupcake. You left the now empty bottle out on the table with the boxes from upstairs. You’d take it out to the trash tomorrow.

Searching out a fluffy towel and some bath salts from one of your own boxes, you drew yourself a hot bath, settling in and relaxing when it was ready.

The water pipes in the house were old, still clunking away as you closed the your eyes and inhaled the sweet smell of the bath salts, feeling the hot water soothing your aching body. Slowly you inched further and further under the water, until just your nose was peaking out from underneath the surface, allowing you to breathe as the water encased you. You barely heard the slamming of the front door downstairs, or Spencer calling out your name.

Spencer arrived home earlier than the last two nights, bringing two large bags of groceries in with him. You were right, you did need food. He was pleasantly surprised to see that some of the boxes that adorned the hallway yesterday had been moved, even more suprised when he passed the dining room to see boxes and boxes laid out on the table, him recognising them as things from his parents room.

He felt a surge of anger. How dare you start packing up that room? He was considering doing it himself, the bed in Henry’s room wasn’t suitable for an adult at all and he was spending hours tossing and turning each night. But that fact that you had taken it upon yourself to start removing things from that room? Without consulting him? No.

It was then he spied the empty bottle of whisky, sat directly next to an almost empty bottle of pills. A rush of panic coursed through his brain as he saw the label. Tramodol - 100 tablets. He called your name, once, twice and then three times, each one louder than the last. Realising he could hear the water pipes, he bounded up the stairs heading for the bathroom attached to your bedroom.

“Y/N! Oh god, Y/N! What have you done! Oh fuck!” He knew he’d been terrible to you recently, you’d been a terrible to each other really. But he’d just abandoned you in a new town, with no way of contacting anyone, or any way of leaving the house. He hadn’t thought you’d do this though, that you’d be so desperate for a way out of it all.

You hadn’t locked the bathroom door, not seeing any reason to. When Spencer flung it open he was greeted with the sight of his beautiful wife, her eyes closed and her body completely submerged under the water.

Secrets // h2ovanoss

aBASED OFF THE PROMPT “A boy comes out as gay to his friend, who soon after comes out as bi. Their parents are homophobic, so they are forced to pretend for the time being that they are still just friends.” BY THE WAY, THIS CONTAINS SMUT.

It wasn’t like Jonathan chose this life.

Bless his heart, he was born like this. He didn’t choose to be the gay in a heavily Christian family.

He just wanted to be normal in his family’s eyes. So that’s what he tried to do; pretend to be complete heterosexual.

Jonathan didn’t realize he was gay until he was in ninth grade. He was changing in the locker room, and suddenly, he was staring at Evan Fong’s ass, mouth watering like some kind of thirsty puppy.

He wanted to be friends with the Canadian, but Evan was way cooler than Jonathan could pretend to be, so he was afraid.

In tenth grade, however, Evan and Jonathan became good friends. They were such good friends that Jonathan began to trust Evan with everything.

In study hall one day, Jonathan decided to write Evan a note. He tore out a piece of paper from his English notebook and wrote:

“Evan, can I ask you a question?”

He folded the notebook paper and placed it on the Asian’s desk, biting his lip in nervousness. Evan looked down at the paper before opening it. Jonathan pretended to look busy while he watched Evan reply on the paper with his pen out of the corner in his eye. Evan folded the paper back up and passed it back over, looking back down at his textbook. 

“Of course.”

Jonathan wanted to smile at that, but fear of what Evan would think of him after he told him, but he needed to tell someone. He was tired of hiding who he was, and Evan seemed to be someone who would understand him.

“How would you feel if I told you I was gay?”

Jonathan chickened out. He erased the question and instead asked:

“Would you like to come over today?”

He folded it up and placed it on the Asian’s desk, furrowing his brows and swearing to himself for chickening out as Evan read the note.

“I’d love to.”

Later that day, Evan gave Jonathan a ride home like he always did since Jonathan didn’t have a car. 

“Are you sure I can come in?” Evan asked, furrowing his eyebrows in worry. He knew how the older boy’s parents were.

“Evan, they love you. They think you’re a wonderful influence for me. My sister is literally head over heels for you,” Jonathan reassured, forcing a smile after the statement he made about his sister because he knew Evan was straight.

Evan smiled, cutting off the ignition and exiting the car, Jonathan following soon after. Mrs. Dennis opened the door at the sound, smiling with her purse hanging off her shoulder. “Hello boys,” she greeted, “I was just about to drop Emily off at her Bible class. You both can help yourself to anything in the fridge.” She smiled before exiting the house, Jonathan’s younger sister Emily following shortly behind. She smiled coyly at Evan before getting into the car with her mother.

Evan and Jonathan had the house to themselves for about half an hour. “So what should we do?” Evan asked, taking a bite out of the red apple in his hand.

“We can watch a movie?” Jonathan suggested, but Evan shook his head.

“Nah, your parents have nothing but Christian movies about Jesus and that PG-rated bullshit. I get enough of that from my mom,” Evan sighed, and Jonathan bit his lip. 

“We can go up to my room?” Jonathan suggested, “I don’t have much, but it’s better than being down here.”

Evan laughed, “I’ll race you.” 

Jonathan laughed at that, quickly running behind Evan, trying to get ahead. However, Evan was faster as he made his way down the hall and into Jon’s room.

“Ha!” Evan yelled victoriously, throwing his hands in the air, and Jonathan totally did not notice the section of delicious tan skin that poked out when Evan’s arms raised.

Evan plopped down on Jonathan’s bed, releasing a comfortable sigh. The blue-eyed teen mouth watered at the sight of Evan’s skin, and he felt he needed to leave to compose himself. “Hey, I’m going to get me a drink. You want anything?”

“A glass of your mother’s infamous lemon tea will do,” Evan answered, grinning over at him, and Jonathan swore his heart stopped.

Jonathan left the room as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. While he was waiting for the shorter’s return, Evan pulled out his phone; however, when he tried to sit up, he bumped his head on the shelf hanging on the wall above Jon’s bed, forgetting the other was shorter than him. Consequently, he dropped his phone and it landed on the floor. Leaning down to pick it up, he noticed something under the bed and curiously picked it up. It was a dirty magazine and what shocked Evan was the naked man on the cover.

“Holy fuck,” he muttered, eyes wide in shock.

He flipped through the magazine and raised his eyebrows at all the nude men. Unfortunately, Jonathan walked in at that time. 

“Here you go–shit!” Jonathan quickly ran over, snatching the magazine from Evan’s hands, ready to make an excuse about how it’s his sister’s and he doesn’t know how it got in there when Evan looked up at Jon with furrowed eyebrows. “You could’ve told me, you know?”

“Told you what?” Jonathan asked nervously, trying to hide his trembling his hands from Evan’s view, “I-It’s my sister’s.” He was fucked.

Evan laughed, “Bullshit! You can be honest with me, dude.”

“Fine,” Jonathan grumbled, opening his dresser drawer and putting the magazine in it, “I’m gay.”

Evan grinned. “Oh, really? I couldn’t tell.”

Jonathan punched him in the arm.

Evan laughed and Jon sat next to him on the bed, “You know, I kinda like guys too,” Evan whispered, and Jonathan’s eyes widened in shock.


“Actually, just one guy, but still.”

Jonathan grew hopeful, quietly asking, “What guy?”

The room grew quiet before Evan leaned over, whispering softly, “I mean, your ass looks really great in those jeans.” Jonathan shuddered at Evan’s words, turning to look at the Asian in the eyes. Evan was smirking. Jonathan felt like he was dreaming. He was so tempted to pinch himself to wake himself up, but Evan’s hand gripped his jaw before leaning down and pressing his lips to Jonathan’s roughly. Jonathan’s heart was pounding as he struggled to kiss Evan back as much as Evan kissed him. When Evan pulled away, panting heavily, Jon breathed, “We don’t have much time.”

Evan grinned. “Challenge accepted,” he responded, reaching for the button on Jonathan’s jeans.

Evan maneuvered them until his back was pressed against the headboard and Jonathan was facing him. He pulled at the older’s jeans, his hips bucking up so Evan could pull down his jeans. Jonathan crawled over, desperately kissing Evan’s lips once more and Evan chuckled at his eagerness, brushing the bulge in Jon’s boxer briefs. Jon gasped, pulling away. “Touch me again, please,” he begged softly and Evan smirked.

“Just wait, baby, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Jonathan bit his lip and gripped the younger’s shoulders as Evan’s lips attacked his neck and slowly pulled down his underwear. Jonathan gasped at the cold air reaching his heated skin. 

“You have lube, babyboy?” Evan asked gently. The older nodded, keening over the nickname and rushing over to his dresser, opening the same drawer he put the magazine in and pulled out a bottle of cherry-flavored lube.

Evan immediately took the bottle, pouring some onto his fingers and placing it onto the desk nearby the bed. With his other hand, he patted his jean-clad lap and Jonathan obeyed, straddling Evan’s lap, placing his knees on either side of Evan’s legs, and whimpering as his hard cock rubbed against Evan’s covered torso. Evan placed his index finger at the other’s hole before slipping it in slowly. Jonathan’s eyes closed at the foreign feeling, prepared for the sting. He’s seen enough porn.

Evan began slowly thrusting the finger into his hole and Jon moaned. He liked the pain.

“Move, please,” he begged. Evan obliged, but slipping in a second finger beforehand. 

“Oh god,” Jonathan moaned, throwing his head back, and Evan attacked his neck once more. “How’s that, baby?”

“So good, so fucking good,” Jonathan breathed and Evan scissored his fingers, stretching out the other’s fingers. And then Evan curled his fingers up and Jonathan’s whole body jolted. “Right there!” he yelled, and Evan smirked against his neck, making sure to hit that spot in every thrust of his fingers. 

“Please, Evan,” Jonathan whimpered, “I want your cock. Always wanted your cock.”

Evan felt proud of that. “Anything for you,” he responded softly, pulling his fingers free from Jonathan’s hole. Jonathan felt the loss of Evan’s fingers but prepared himself for something better.

Jonathan slid down Evan’s legs, desperately pulling down Evan’s zipper. “No time,” he muttered, pulling Evan’s cock free through the open zipper. If Jonathan complained about his mouth watering at the sight of Evan before, he should’ve probably prepared himself for the sight of Evan’s large, hard tan leaking cock. Jonathan whimpered at the sight, crawling back up Evan’s lap. “I’ve never been fucked,” Jonathan stated, staring down at the beautiful Asian.

“I’m clean, don’t worry,” Evan assured as Jonathan poured lube into his hand before wrapping his hand around Evan’s thick cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” Evan sighed, eyes closing in pleasure as Jonathan pumped his cock, covering it in lube. Jonathan kept pumping until Evan had to force himself to stop Jonathan. Jonathan grinned, sloppily kissing his cheek before Evan lined his cock up with Jonathan’s hole, the other hand on Jonathan’s hip. Jonathan slid down slowly, mouth falling open in either pain or pleasure–he wasn’t sure. Evan’s other hand reached up to hold Jonathan’s other hip as a guide.

“Oh, fuck, Evan,” Jonathan breathed, eyes shutting as Evan grunted at the tight, warm feeling that was Jonathan sitting on his cock.

Jonathan’s hands gripped his headboard on either side of Evan’s head and pushed himself up slowly. He felt so full. Evan was watching Jonathan’s facial reactions, wanting to memorize them for future reference. As Jonathan started to speed up, Jonathan’s breaths turned into pants and Evan helped him keep a steady pace. Evan was struggling to keep his hips pinned to the mattress. He wanted to fuck that tight heat but he didn’t want to overwhelm the bottom. However, when Jonathan curiously tried rotating his hips, Evan couldn’t stop himself. He bucked up into Jonathan, causing a broken sob from the older man as Evan’s dick rubbed right up against his prostate.

“Again,” sobbed Jon, “right there, please.”

Jonathan couldn’t form coherent sentences as Evan began to fuck up into him, the bed rocking against the wall. “Oh, oh, Evan! Harder!” Jonathan cried and that was enough for Evan to grab Jon’s wrists and slamming him down on the opposite end of the bed, earning a pained cry from the man. Evan grabbed Jonathan’s legs, putting them up on his shoulders before fucking into the tight heat again and brushing right against Jonathan’s prostate in every rough thrust, the bed slamming against the wall mercilessly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!” Jonathan shouted, tears rolling down his cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure, “Don’t stop, Evan!”

Evan moaned at the filthy sounds leaving the blue-eyed boy’s mouth, fighting the urge to throw his head back because he wanted to watch Jonathan take his cock. 

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Jonathan cried, “I’m-I’m gonna fuckin’ cum!”

Evan leaned down, pinning Jonathan’s hands to the mattress, and fucking Jonathan in the position, still ramming against his prostate. Jonathan felt the rough feeling of Evan’s jeans rubbing against his balls, increasing the pleasure. “Do it, baby. Cum on just my cock. Show me how good I make you feel.”

And just like that, Jonathan came all their shirts.

Evan was so close, fucking Jonathan a little harder than he wanted. He was just about to orgasm when he heard the front door open suddenly. “Fuck,” Evan swore, quickly pulling out of Jonathan and hurriedly zipping himself up. 

He quickly handed Jonathan his boxer briefs and jeans and hurried to get him another shirt. 

“What about your shirt?” Jonathan asked breathlessly, slipping on his jeans and running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry about that,” Evan assured him, pecking his lips.

“Boys, are you okay?” came Mrs. Dennis’ voice from the kitchen.

“Yeah, Mom!” Jonathan yelled, voice hoarse from his shouting. 

“Jonathan, honey, are you okay? You sound sick,” her voice was getting closer and Jonathan began to worry. He looked at Evan, scared out of his mind. Evan quickly pulled his shirt off, slipping it on inside out, grabbing Jonathan’s History textbook off the desk, and plopping onto the bed next to Jonathan just in time for Mrs. Dennis to walk in.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Jonathan replied, “Evan and I were shouting answers to some questions in the History book and I might have shouted a little too loud.” Evan bit back a snort.

“Okay, dear,” she said, falling for it, “Anyways, don’t let me interrupt your study session. I’m going to start cooking, and Evan, you are welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Dennis,” Evan replied as she exited the room. Evan started chuckling and Jonathan glared at him. Evan, still smiling, placed the book out of the way before leaning over to kiss Jonathan passionately. “I had fun.”

“But you didn’t get to…y’know,” Jonathan said sheepishly, and Evan smiled bigger at his dorkiness.

“I have my hand tonight. And at least now, I have an actual memory to use instead of false fantasies.” Jonathan giggled, kissing Evan’s lips again.

132 Thoughts I Had While Watching the PLL Finale
  1. OMG Bridget Woo LOL nice throwback 
  2. This is like a dream sequence or someone’s imagination, right?
  3. Definitely has to be Mona’s imagination.
  4. Lucas WTF 
  5. Ha the girls don’t seem the least bit enthused with him “Hey Lucas” 
  6. “Remember when we used to look up murder weapons, indistinctive traits of psychopaths exhibiting signs of hyper-reality disorder” IM YELLING 
  8. I low-key love all of the truth tea they’re spilling, even though it’s not real 
  10. So Mona gets to know who A.D. is first? 
  12. Aw Ezria y’all are cute. 
  15. Lily and Grace are such sweet names 
  18. Melissa and Spencer getting along? Ehhhh idk about that 
  20. Oh my god she re-bought his truck? I love Spencer so much. 
  21. Hey that’s Marlene’s son!
  23. Alison would END YOU 
  24. Who bullies someone just because they’re deaf? 
  25. And there’s Jenna tapping along… 
  27. Lolololol she became a life skills teacher I love it 
  28. Haleb is still cute even when they’re fighting 
  30. Of course she would be obsessed with game shows 
  31. Spencer’s love for interior design making an appearance, I love it!
  33. Aria’s dress here is really cute! 
  34. "Wait for it”  
  35. Lol but I could so see them all going on a group honeymoon to Paris together 
  36. Oh shit where’s Mona? 
  37. "That’s exactly why we eloped.” Only in Rosewood y'all 
  38. This scene was all Ian haha 
  39. They’re such a cute family OWW MY HEART 
  40. MELISSA???  
  41. Ella could take down Diane in a SECOND  
  42. Love me some Spanna!  
  44. LOL everyone casually sneaks off to go have sex and then there’s just Spencer and Toby 
  46. Damn Ezria get it. Nice throwback to 5x05 with Aria pulling the sheets over her! 
  48. Emily has that sex hair right now! 
  49. “I’m trying to get pregnant” “You’re scaring my ovaries” Oh Hanna.  
  52. Aria baby what’s wrong? 
  54. So now Mona’s working for A.D.? 
  56. LOL Mona you sly bitch 
  57. Uhhh Spencer what are you doing? 
  60. Oh Hanna baby what is you doing?  
  61. Byron you big softie! 
  64. Toby and Emily are such an underrated friendship 
  65. WOAH WAIT that girl is Maya’s niece? HOW SWEET 
  66. Spoby I miss you so much 
  68. Ah looks like the Wine Moms had a fun night 
  69. Ezria stop fighting right this second YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED 
  71. “You wanna make a baby?” OMG STOP THEY’RE SO CUTE 
  73. FUCK ME UP this is so hot!!!! 
  74. UH SPENCER, weren’t you just with Toby doing the sex? 
  75. Oooh that’s the song that played when Spencer was sitting outside of Toby’s apartment crying her eyes out back in season 3! 
  76. MONA OMG. I do love the parallel to 2x25 though with that slap  
  78. Emison is 500% done with Mary’s shit lol 
  79. Ohhhh this is how Wren is connected to this shit show 
  81. Of course he ordered a vodka soda  
  82. “It’s a lot to process, would you like a sedative?” YES PLEASE  
  83. Spencer wants to fuck this bitch up so badly lololol 
  84. Oh jesus she’s going to become Spencer? What a twisted sister! 
  85. I KNEW THAT SCENE WITH HANNA AND THE ONE WITH EZRA AT THE AIRPORT WAS OFF. I didn’t catch the one where she was looking through the family album though and GOD DAMN IT THAT WAS HER KISSING TOBY IN 6x20 AND HAVING SEX WITH TOBY IN 7x18 
  86. Like Mother Like Daughter BROOOO 
  87. Damn Alex is just batshit crazy and I’m kinda loving it. 
  88. I do feel bad for her though. 
  89. Woah hold up this bitch had Wren shoot her so she’d look EXACTLY LIKE SPENCER, like down to the scars she has. Damn she’s committed, I’ll give her that. 
  91. Awwww Aria looks so beautiful! GIRL I’M CRYING TOO 
  92.  I’m gonna just pretend like that’s all of our girls taking that selfie 
  95. That’s actually so sad about what Alex’s parents did to her. I get why she’s so angry, she’s had a miserable life. 
  96. Mary really does love Spencer  
  98. Aria baby noooo don’t cry 
  99. I figured that Alex had Ezra… 
  100. Do-it-yourself dungeon I’M YELLING 
  101. Lol the look on Spencer’s face says “Bitch stop copying me” 
  102. Ezra must feel like a dumb dumb now 
  103. Oh so Alex shot Spencer, intending to kill her and take over her life but Mary saved her. Alright.  
  104. Alright that’s kinda cute how Alex and Charlotte bonded 
  105. Alex, Wren, Charlotte, and Archer were a SQUAD 
  106. Uh Charlotte, the only really terrible one is Peter Hastings! 
  107. No wonder Alex was so pissed when Charlotte was murdered, she was the only real family she had ever known. 
  108. UGH I’m just gonna pretend this is Team Sparia 
  109. Uh-Oh the horse knows it’s not really Spencer 
  110. Of course Jenna could SMELL that Spencer wasn’t really Spencer 
  111. Alright so these dummies have been trying to figure out who A is after all these years and they just immediately get it right now? That was so easy and ironic thing is that they didn’t have Spencer to help them figure it out.  
  112. Mary ships Spoby and I’m living for it 
  113. Damn Alex, psychotic much? 
  114. I always figured it was A.D. who bought Toby’s house 
  116. Alex with that hatchet is giving me “The Shining” vibes lol 
  119. Oh my god Alex copying Spencer like that gives me the creeps 
  120. TWIN FIGHT 
  121. God dammit WHICH ONE IS SPENCER? 
  124. Look at the babies! 
  125. MARLENE KING OMG she did the Shhh and everything  
  126. My babies happy… I LOVE THIS SONG 
  127. Aww Hanna’s pregnant!!! 
  129. Ok Mona having a doll shop in France is literally the cutest thing ever 
  130. She totally should’ve ended up with Mike though TBH 
  131. BROOO Mona literally won the game I’m so proud of my child 
100% true until dawn

Sam: I FUckiNg LOVE anmimals h oly SH IT
Chris: phone phone phone phone phone
Jess: therefor fucK ME IN THE ASS CUZ I love Jesus
Emily: *bitch noises*
Matt: yes man
Mike: loveable asshole
Ashley: bean.
Josh: wake me up wake me up inside I can’t wake up wake me up inside save me
Hannah: screm
Beth: ded
Stranger: this mountain belong to the WONDONGOS


You sat down on the couch, absolutely exhausted. It had been a long day. You had worked hard to clean the entire house, then run to the bank, the post office, and the grocery store, then cook a nice dinner for your boyfriend, who should have been home from band practice twenty minutes ago. Your feet ached from walking around so much, and your head was swimming with the things you had still yet to do. You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the soft pillows of your couch and allowing yourself to breathe.
After a few minutes, you decided to check your phone. No calls, no texts. Where the hell was Andy? You dialed his number and listened as his answering machine picked up. Furious, you threw your phone back down, standing up to make your way to the kitchen. You grabbed a glass from the cabinets and poured yourself a glass of coke and whiskey, hoping the alcohol would soothe your shot nerves. You were halfway through your drink when you heard the door.
“Babe?” You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. You listened to the sound of footsteps creeping closer, stopping in the doorway.
“Hey.” Andy said. You avoided looking at him, instead taking another drink.
“Something wrong?”
“Are you fucking serious?” You growled, shooting him a harsh look. “You come home half an hour late, you don’t call, you don’t text, and all you can say is ‘hey’?”
“Baby, I-”
“I don’t want to hear your bullshit tonight, Andy. I am getting sick of it.”
“I’m sorry, but-”
“Andy, shut the fuck up!” You yelled, and there was a pause. You finally looked at him, watching as his expression turned from apologetic to furious.
“Don’t you ever tell me to shut up.” He growled.
“Shut. Up.” You challenged.
“That’s it.” He stomped over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you out of your chair to stand, facing him. “Emily, I am not going to have you bitching at me tonight. Do you understand?” His voice was stern.
“Andy, I will say whatever I want to say. You should have called. I worked my ass off all day, I cooked you dinner, and you don’t even have the decency to let me know you won’t be home on time?” You yelled.
“My fucking phone died! It wasn’t my fault! Practice went over by ten minutes, the traffic was slow, and I couldn’t call because my phone was dead! Jesus, what the hell is your problem?” His voice was louder, causing your blood to boil.
“What is my problem? You want to know what my problem is? How was I supposed to know you weren’t hurt? How was I supposed to know your car hadn’t broken down somewhere? How was I supposed to know you weren’t with some cheap slut who just wanted to say she fucked Andy Biersack?” You spat back.
“You think I would cheat on you?”
“That would explain why you don’t even fucking look at me anymore, wouldn’t it?” Andy stared at you, his skin hot and his eyes cold. You immediately regretted accusing him of cheating.
“Andy, I-” He interrupted you by crashing his lips onto yours with such force that it made you stumble backwards into the wall. His hands grabbed at your waist, roughly pulling your body close to his. You moaned quietly into his kiss, and felt his rough hands reach down to slap your ass. You gasped at the unexpected hit, pulling away from the kiss to register the pain. Andy used the opportunity to yank your shirt off, taking your bra with it and leaving you bare chested.
“Andy, what in the hell are you-”
“I would suggest you shut the hell up, Emily. You want me to pay attention to you? Fine. But I’m going to make sure everyone in the whole damn neighborhood knows for a fact that I am not cheating on you.” You felt yourself blush, suddenly aware of where this was going. You opened your mouth to say something, but Andy just slammed his lips back onto yours, reaching his hands down to unbuckle your jeans and slid them off of you, leaving you completely naked in front of him. He reached for your hair next, pulling you with him as he walked out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, slamming you onto the bed. He stood overtop of you, slowly kissing down your neck, sucking and biting on your skin and leaving small marks all over. You moaned, rolling your hips. He ignored your obvious frustration as he moved his lips to your breasts, down your stomach, and, finally, to your heated core. He smirked up at you before placing a soft kiss on your clit, causing you to moan out loudly.
“Someone’s a bit needy, yeah?”
“Andy… fuck…” You moaned, desperate for him to touch you again. You breath hitched in your throat as he began sucking on your clit, making you buck your hips forward involuntarily. You tried to fight back a moan as he continued, speeding up and adding more pressure. You felt his hand creep up your thigh, and soon, he was pumping in and out of you with one finger.
“Andy!” You moaned, reaching to grab his hair.
He continued, increasing his speed, until he was sure you couldn’t take it anymore. Your breathing was becoming labored, your moans louder.
“Andy, I swear to god I’m going to-” He immediately stood up, removing his finger from you and looking at you smugly.
“Andy, what the hell?” You asked, upset at the loss of pleasure. He laughed darkly as he slid off his shirt and undid his belt, allowing his jeans to fall to the floor. He was standing naked in front of you now. He leaned forward, and you prepared yourself for more kissing. Instead, he grabbed your hair again, picking you up off the bed and throwing you roughly onto the floor so you were on your knees in front of him.
“Suck it.” He commanded. You stared at him, not used to his aggressive side.
“Did I fucking stutter, Emily?” He barked, and you immediately began pumping his member, placing a kiss in the tip before taking him into your mouth. He threw his head back, his mouth forming a small “o” as he guided you by your hair. You took more and more of him into your mouth as you bobbed up and down his length, causing him to groan. Soon, you were deep throating him.
“Emily, fuck…” He moaned, sighing out in pleasure before looking down and making eye contact with you. “That’s enough.” He yanked your head back and threw you back onto the bed.
“Beg for me.” He said, his voice low.
“Fuck me, Andy. I want you so fucking bad, please.” He smirked, looking pretty damn proud of himself as he slammed his entire length into you. You screamed as he began thrusting in and out of you, grasping your hips tightly.
“Andy!” You moaned, feeling a knot grow in your stomach as he continued to pound into you.
“That’s right, baby. Say my name.”
“ANDY!” You screamed as you climaxed, triggering Andy to climax shortly after. You both sloppily rode out your highs before collapsing next to each other, panting.

“Good morning, beautiful.” You opened your eyes to see Andy’s staring back at you. His hair was a mess, and his voice was low and raspy. Gotta love the morning voice.
“Andy, I’m sorry for snapping at you last night. I didn’t mean to. I was just stressed. I know you would never cheat on me.” You whispered.
“I know, baby. It’s okay. And, uh, I’m sorry, too…” He trailed off. You frowned at him.
“Why are you sorry?” You asked. He sighed, standing up. You saw that he was still naked.
“Come here, Emily.” You sat up, your head pounding and sore from being thrown around by your hair. You found walking to be a bit difficult, too. You slowly made your way to Andy, trying not to walk funny. He grabbed your hand and turned you to face the mirror.
“Oh my god…” You breathed out. You were suffering from a horrible case of sex-hair, and there was a trail of dark purple hickeys that started on your neck and ended around your belt line. There were also large bruises on your hips, though they were much too big to be hickeys.
“Where did those come from?” You asked, gesturing towards your hips. Andy blushed slightly as he placed his large hands over your hips, and you noticed that his hands were the same size as the bruises.
“Oh.” You stared at yourself a minute longer before turning back to meet Andy’s gaze.
“Are you made at me?” He whispered, staring down at the ground. He was so fucking cute. You smiled, placing a kiss in his cheek.
“No.” He smiled, kissing your lips.
“Good.” He said. “I’m going to take a shower. Care to join me?”
“Only if you carry me there, I don’t feel like walking right now.” Andy chuckled as he picked you up bridal style and carried you to the shower.
“I love you, Emily.”
“I love you, too.”

Tommy's Girl [11/?]

Tommy Shelby x OC (Alfie’s Sister).

Warning(s): language

Part Eleven. Part Ten. Part One.

“You told him then?” Tommy asked.

“I had to, he’s my brother. I’m sorry.” Emily smiled sheepishly.

“I don’t blame you for liking it.” Tommy winked, smirking ever so slightly.

“We’re you listening to my private conversation?” Emily asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I couldn’t bloody help it, you were loud enough.” Tommy laughed.

“God, you can tell you’re a smoker.” Emily giggled, poking fun at Tommy’s laugh. His hand grazed hers as he placed it on the desk. Emily slowly interlocked their fingers, all silliness immediately banished from the room.
“Tell me about yourself?” Emily inquired, meeting Tommy’s eyes, searching for some hint as to the man she had to marry.

“You won’t like it.” Tommy shook his head, leading her to a settee by the wall. They sat and Tommy lit them a cigarette each to help clear their thoughts. “There was a woman. A woman I loved more than anything in this world. She was our Charlie’s mother. Her name was Grace and we were married. I got the Blinders involved with the Russians and the Economic League, which was a fucking stupid idea, but some… unpleasantries came about and my Grace - well she died.”

“Oh God, Tommy, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Emily hurriedly apologised.

“No, it’s all right.” Tommy sighed, “You told me about your past, it’s only fair I tell you mine.”

“What about before that, then? Alfie told me you were a soldier.”

“Aye, I was. I was a tunneler in the war. Fucking awful work.” Tommy puffed on his cigarette. “Are you Jewish like your brother? Because you were talking about Christmas the other day.”

“No, however Alfie and I celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah together. I don’t really practice religion very much though. I converted when my mother died. Thought this Jesus bloke might help me out.” Emily held the ciggy to her lips. “He never fuckin’ did though.” She exhaled, her mouth curving into a frown.

“No, He’s not too helpful is He?” Tommy looked thoughtful. “I thought Jewish people had to follow their mothers’ religion though?”

“I don’t owe that woman fuckin’ anything. If it wasn’t for Alfie, I’d be quite happy burning her photographs and tryin’ to forget her… Not that I could do that. But you know what my brother’s like, you’ve worked with him for God knows how long. He’s all ‘family this and family that’ but he’s no idea what that bitch was like when he was off in the war. ‘Come on dear, I don’t want you workin’ in no factory but we need the money. Get out on that corner and give the men whatever they want.’” Emily sighed. “I never got a fuckin’ say. I was fuckin’ fourteen: a scared little girl doin’ as her mum told her. They took advantage of that; I remember one sick fuck told me to cry and suck his cock. They never just wanted a shag Tommy, it was always fuckin’ more.”

“Fucking bastards,” Tommy muttered, slamming his hand down on the settee in rage, “I promise you; you will never have to do anything like that again, understood? You’re mine now, I’ll take care of you.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t need to hear that, it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it fuckin’ does. Emily, love, they fucking hurt you, that matters to me. There’s no need to apologise,” Tommy put his arm around Emily’s waist. She leaned her head gently against his shoulder.

“You don’t need to protect me, Tommy, I’m fully capable of taking care of myself,” Emily released a breath that she wasn’t aware she had been holding in.

“My point is, Emily, you don’t have to. I’m here for you.”

“I don’t need a man to protect me, Shelby, I grew up in London for Christ’s sake.” Emily teased, winking, and swiftly exited the room.

“That she doesn’t.” Tommy breathed, staring after her.

Arthur burst into the room moments later, followed by John, carrying a letter.

“Tommy, we have a situation.” Arthur explained, handing the note to his confused brother.

“What the fuck?” Tommy grasped the sheet of paper, scanning quickly over it. “It’s from Sabini. He says he’ll negotiate a peace treaty with us if we give him Emily.”

I know it’s Easter and everyone is rejoicing, but it’s okay if you’re sad or hurting or lonely or lost today.

If you’re feeling suicidal and so guilty because you should be celebrating that Jesus lives, it’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.

If you’re feeling depressed, it’s okay.

If you spend today trying not to cry, it’s okay.

If you can’t feel anything today, it’s okay. 

If you doubt that anything matters, it’s okay. 

If you feel overwhelmed and so lost as to what you’re supposed to do today, it’s okay.

If you feel anxious, it’s okay.

If you’re not perfectly happy and joyous today in any way, it’s okay. You’re not alone. It’s okay. 

PLL 7X16



- blah blah blah book, book, nicole i dont care

- my babies investigating together 

- as much as i dont like marco he is the only cop who has done something in this town



-hannas always with caleb , god bless, love how they finish each others sentences 


- “hanna and i” 


- wtf aria you pyscho

- hanna and caleb searching together, goals HAHAHHAHAHAHAH HANNA AND HER ONE LINERS 

- lolbyeihatemarco

-awies emison, your so cute “i love you” wow omg and kiss DEAD 

-jesus christ aria what are you doing 

anonymous asked:

HOTCHNISS (Or Hotly whatever...) but yea!

who the fuck put the peeps in the microwave
THAT WOULD SO BE EMILY. Hotch tells her not to do it because they will fuckin explode, which only makes her want to do it more. SO, Prentiss shoves like 20 of them in the microwave and laughs uncontrollably as they blow the fuck up and Hotch is just sitting there shaking his head thinking jfc WHY IS THIS MY LIFE? EMILY U ARE A FUCKIN 6 YEAR OLD JACK IS MORE MATURE THAN THIS why the fuck…? BUT he’s smiling because even tho she’s an immature lil shit, she’s his immature lil shit!

who forgot to put the cat outside before sex
Em. She refuses to “imprision” her precious Sergie-pie and the cat often wanders into the bedroom at the wrong time. Prentiss doesn’t care, but Hotch is convinced the little black SATAN is out for his blood. Emily finds it hilarious that Aaron Hotchner, who is fearless when it comes to crazy ass psycho murderers, is afraid of a TINY LITTLE KITTY CAT. “Emily put the fucking demon away” “Hotch its a CAT what’s he possibly gonna do to you?” “Oh, i dunno, KILL ME IN MY SLEEP!” “Right.

who posts vines of the other doing embarrassing shit
Emily. You’d never guess it, but when Hotch gets drunk he gets FUCKING WILD. And giggles. Like a schoolgirl.

who breaks the most phones
They both break a fuck ton of phones because of their job (and the fact that both are super accident prone). Prentiss has even made a tally to try and keep track of the expenses (‘ALRIGHT Aaron u are at 5 this year already what the fuck?’ ‘Emily don’t even get started u broke so many phones last year’ ‘excuse you i was hiT BY A TRUCK MR.’ ‘BUT-’ ‘I ALSO KICKED SOME MAJOR UNSUB ASS FOR YOUR INFORMATION’ ‘EM, HI HELLO you haven’t broken any phones at work sweetie. You are literally just clumsy.’ ‘Well yea…’)

who dies first
ahahahaahAHAHAHA FUCK ME. Prentiss does (like for real this time tho, I mean the woman nearly dies every other episode getting in car accidents, shot, stabbed, held hostage and whatnot. One of those disasters is bound to kill her eventually). If Em really did die, you know Hotch would be devastated. AND he would probably become reckless and take huge risks because Emily dying doesn’t make sense. She was one of the best people he ever had the pleasure of knowing, and if there was a God, or shit, even just karma, Prentiss would not be dead. It’s just not fair. (HAHAHA NO NOBODY DIES WHAT? NO WHAT IS DEATH EVEN HEHEHE no.)

which one I could see as being lactose intollerant
Hotch (I mean how could Emily be, like i can picture her putting cheese on literally everything) AARON IS, but he doesn’t like to admit it which bugs Emily. “hon, you are allergic to tht DONT EAT IT” “NO IM NOT, ITS FINE EM. NEVER SHOW WEAKNESS. “JESUS CHrist Aaron, its a dairy allergy not a missing limb what the fuck”

who thinks they can do something really well even though they can’t
Emily thinks she is the fucking shit when it comes to sports. Don’t get me wrong, she is extremely fit and athletic due to being in the FBI, but playing Children’s level sports? Forget about it! Something about having the gracefulness of a drunk chicken really doesn’t mix well with that, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. Hotch thought it was adorable, until the FBI baseball game where the dork managed to hit Morgan in the balls with a baseball bat! Prentiss apologized (while laughing her ass off) and decided sports weren’t really her thing…

who is more likely to get kicked out of the bed
Hotch, although it’s not for reasons you’d think. When he’s not working, Aaron is actually super goofy and he and Em usually end up in prank wars. Sometimes those pranks involve putting huge fake spiders under the blanket to scare the living shit out of Prentiss (‘JESUS MOTHERFUCKING CHRIST WHAT THE FCUKISTHATKILL IT- oh my god AARON U FUCKING ASSHOLE’) It’s hard for her to stay mad, though, and she usually ends up joining him on the couch.

who uses the computer most
Em totally has a Tumblr (@imwearingagunbitch) She posts pictures of Sergio, and is responsible for a lot of strange/drunken nightblogging posts (‘What if lawnmowers are so loud because they cover the screams of grass being massacred?’ ‘Dude imagine if boobs were square’) Hotch thinks it’s cute that Em runs a blog, but also thinks that half the people on tht deranged website are probable unsubs.

violent delights.

ship: chuck bass x effy stonem

rated: m

note: upon request, this is a repost of an old crack fic i wrote for these two broken, deranged beauties. excuse the old, sketchy writing style.

“have you ever thought about what protects our hearts? just a cage of rib bones and other various parts. so it’s fairly simple to cut right through the mess, and to stop the muscle that makes us confess.”

Chuck knows that Blair is gone for good.

And Effy’s bones have stopped caging anything in.

The air is stale, his shoulders are hunched, and she feels like hell, hell, hell. The year is 2010.

Chuck is in another musty pub, in another English town that’s nothing more than a typo on an old map. He smells like whiskey and vomit and expensive cologne, a brothel. And this whole place is such a fucking cliché. Burly, red-cheeked English folks, chugging down shots at ungodly hours.

So merry and jolly and bullshit. He raises his finger, raises his tab, for another shot. Soon the walls will be blurry and the floor will be moving and Blair will be nothing. Just the squeak of an elbow on leather and a hairband in the dirt.

“Two shots of tequila. Cheers,” a girl deapans from two seats over. Under hooded eyes, Chuck glances at her, catches a mess of brown wavy hair, stacked silver jewelry, and ruddy green bruises on pale skin. She leans against the bar on her bony elbows, scanning the room until her eyes lazily meet his.

Cold blue. No metaphors for the dead.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Toddler acachild caught Bechloe doing the do then asks them what they're doing. Bechloe tries to explain.


Chloe hummed appreciatively, smiling. “I know,” she said, but Beca pushed her away, steering her head towards the door. 

“No,” she said through her teeth, “Fuck.” 

Chloe stopped, confused until she followed Beca’s stare to the doorway and saw two braids over a plaid jumper and confused face. She squeaked, jumping off Beca and covering as much as she could with their blankets. “Em, Jesus!” 

“Mom?” Emily said, her hand on the doorknob, “Mommy, what’re you–” 

“G-go!” Chloe blurted, the loudness shocking Emily and making her jump. “Go to your room sweetie,” she said, her voice only a touch softer. 

“But I-”

“Emily!” Beca finally spoke up, her eyes closed and her hands on her forehead, “Room!” 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

any hcs about the tribe/pack you would like to share w us??

there are Too Many..

• some little girl in the tribe has caught on to the pack and everytime a wolf howls in la push or one of the “Uley gang” walks by she just smiles secretively and gets all giddy sends the boys knowing looks like “bitch i caught onto u y'all ain’t slick”
• that same little girl grows up w/ wolves howling in her backyard and starts to lose sleep because they’re GODDAMN LOUD and they won’t shut the hell up and one day she snaps and just yells out into the forest: “SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU SPIRIT WARRIORS A GIRL HAS BEEN TRYING TO GET SOME SLEEP FOR THE PAST 10 YEARS HERE BUT YOU STILL WON’T SHUT UR DAMN JAWS”
• Quil actually begins to develop impressive art skills because of coloring pictures with Claire endlessly and he starts making real art and becomes a certified Art Hoe™
• Kim often falls asleep with either her head or feet dangling out of her window because of waiting for Jared to visit her after patrol
• if Rachel ever leaves her phone open next to Paul (God forbid) he takes a gajillion selfies on it just to torture her a little bit and he actually starts to enjoy taking selfies and has figured out his perfect angles
• Quil (not so surprisingly imo) slips up on the whole “I can’t tell people I’m a teenage boy who turns into an overgrown dog at will!!!!” thing more than Claire, and Claire is the one who has to remind him that “Qwwuuuuuiillllyyyyyyyyy you can’t tell them thaaaaaaat!!! It’s a secreeeeetttttttt!!”.
• The pack starting to drop hints about being werewolves around their classmates and co-workers to “see if they catch on”
• “Booking off another day at work again, Jared??”
• “Yeah, it’s the full moon, I always book the full moons off! :)”
• The pack making dad jokes @Sam to piss him off
• SAM: “Jake, pass me a muffin, I’m hungry.”
• EMBRY: (snickering) “Hey hungry, I’m dad!!”
• SAM: “stop”
• The pack always shredding their shorts and shoes and go to the store on the border of La Push and Forks to replenish their wardrobe so much that the old lady always just looks at them like “How many fucking shorts do these freaks need Jesus this is the third time this week”
• The pack stumbles upon an actual wolf pack that wandered onto the forest of the Rez and they have noooooo idea what to do
• “Do you think we can communicate with them? You know, because we’re both wolves?”
• “Jake that’s literally the stupidest thing I have ever heard in my entire life have u forgotten that these wolves are REAL and not somewhat human and mentally insane like we are????????¿???”
• countless stashed shorts in the woods from Emily because she’s seen way too many penises and is getting tired of having bare boy butts on her new pillows
• Embry running around naked trying to find a pair of shorts because he has to get home but ends up flashing some poor girl on a hike
• Embry imprints on said girl
• Brady and Collin playing pranks on Paul and the other guys (but mainly Paul becayse they think its funny when his face does the thing)
• the guys wreaking havoc at school and inadvertently torturing poor student council member Kim who always gets glares from her co-members because Paul and Jared ruined one of their banners again

i think these are pretty funny fanfic ideas y'all can go nuts

anonymous asked:

Demily please!!

who the fuck put the peeps in the microwave
Ok it would be the both of those fucking idiots! Literally, I can picture them being slightly drunk, when someone comes up with the GENIUS idea to put fucking peeps in the microwave. Then, as they’re watching the thing fuckin explode, Em is all “DEREK YOU SAID-” “I DIDNT SAY ANYTHING EMILY WHAT-“ ”-MARSHMALLOW GUTS EVERYWHERE YOU MURDERED IT-” “-JESUS CHrist” And Prentiss would probably eat the exploded peep anyway…

who forgot to put the cat outside before sex
Em, TOTALLY Emily. She “forgets” to put Serg outside, mostly because she hates locking him places, but that obviously backfires really fucking bad when he jumps on the bed expecting to be pet, or sits there staring at them. Prentiss doesn’t mind, but Morgan is intensely creeped out by the little fucker.

who posts vines of the other doing embarrassing shit
DEREK. Prentiss is practically famous from all the vines Morgan posts of her fucked up comments, or inebriated dancing with Sergio and other screwy shit. Emily + Alcohol = comedy GOLD and after Garcia taught him how, he films almost every idiotic thing she does. The most popular vine was of Em drunkenly trying to arrest Sergio for peeing outside the litter box.

who breaks the most phones
Morgan by far. Both of them break a fuck ton of phones due to work, but Derek excels at it because he’s usually the one to end up in the water, or in a fist fight, or jumping a fucking building and doing other crazy shit like that. Every time they go to Verizon the employees usually just sigh and say, “what now…?”

who dies first
THIS ISNT FUCKING ALRIGHT DAMMIT well it’s obviously Emily. The reason Derek was so pissed off at her about Doyle is because they were already together at that point and he was hurt knowing Prentiss felt she couldn’t trust him or the team. That obviously changed when he found her FUCKING BLEEDING OUT ON THE FUCKING WAREHOUSE FLOOR FUCK THAT SHIT. No, no no nopety nope.

which one I could see as being lactose intollerant

who thinks they can do something really well even though they can’t
Morgan thinks he has the voice of an angel, but Em disagrees. According to Prentiss he sounds like “a chorus of dying animals” and she thinks he must be partially deaf. Sometimes when they are in the shower and Derek is singing she throws towels and other things to get him to SHUT THE HELL UP! 

who is more likely to get kicked out of the bed
Nobody. Morgan and Prentiss both have terrible nightmares because of their job, not to mention deep-seated abandonment issues and a whole slew of other problems. They find comfort sleeping together and could not possibly be okay without the other at their side. So no, nobody is getting kicked off the bed tht is not happening.

who uses the computer most
I don’t know, Emily? She has a Tumblr dedicated to serial killers, cats, Vonnegut, and Star Trek.

Emily Kinney and Norman Reedus on the phone probably
  • Emily: *calls Norman*
  • Norman: *picks up* hello?
  • Emily: hey norman! are you busy?
  • Norman: hey! nope not at all.
  • Emily: okay good! so did you see any recordings of my song "last chance" floating around online?
  • Norman: nope not yet, I'll look it up now.
  • Emily: okay! I'll stay on the phone and listen. I wanna know what you think.
  • Norman: *watches and listens*
  • Emily:
  • Norman:
  • Emily: so what do you think? it's a li-
  • Norman: it's bethyl.
  • Emily: oh.. um well i actua-
  • Norman: this is our episode "still" but.. sexy. this is the song of our fandom.
  • Emily: oh no norman i was ju-
  • Norman: sweet baby jesus. this is the song for bethyl. the song of the ship we're leading.
  • Emily:
  • Norman:
  • Emily:
  • Norman:
  • Emily:
  • Norman: *plays it again*

quick drabble of the crew reacting to climbing class bc i’m endlessly amused by @kiashikun‘s wonderful comics on this subject so i had to write some trash inspired by it here you go


“Beth, is this really necessary?” 

Sam stares uncertainly at the camcorder practically shoved into her face, her girlfriend appearing entirely serious as she adjusts some settings on the device.

“I ask the questions here, missy,” Beth tuts. “Trust me, my future nieces and nephews will thank us for this later.” 

“In what universe does a kid want to know all the embarrassing details of their parents getting together? Besides, you’re assuming a lot of things with that statement–”

“Just play along, Sammy!” 

Sam breathes out a long-suffering sigh before she nods, and the interview begins in earnest. Beth clears her throat dramatically.

“So, auntie Sam–tell us, when did you first find out about Josh and Chris doing the dipsy doodle?”


“Laying the pipe, oscillating the unmentionables, interior decorating–”


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So I have this theory: I think this is how gays get into heaven, alright?
  • Me: *walks into Heaven* Ayy I'm ready to go in my dudes.
  • Dude at the gate: *holds up hands* Oh wait home girl you can't come in yet.
  • Me: *folds arms* Woah what do you mean I can't come in yet? I've like saved cats, and shit man.
  • Dude at the gate: You need a password to come in dude.
  • Me: A password? Do straight people need passwords?
  • Dude at the gate: Naw man this is the whole "gay thing" in the bible people referred to you need a password.
  • Me: Ay I need my boy Jesus Christ right now, homie.
  • *Jesus Christ appears*
  • JC: Hello Emily I hail from the heavens to come talk to you, what can I help you with?
  • Me: Homeboy over here says I need a password why is that ma dude?
  • JC: Well you see here Emily.
  • Me: Naw Jesus C be real, don't play pussy games here.
  • JC: Okay man so pretty much you guys need a password, because you guys are a rare gift that can't get broken into. So passwords make sense don't you think?
  • Me: Hell yeah man! Now I just gotta think of this password.
  • *Thinking thinking THINKING*
  • JC: You'll feel it from within my homiesizzle.
  • Me: I got it! *snaps fingers* Heeeyyyyy.
  • JC: *smiles huge* That's my favorite little lesbo come hither.
  • Me: Open up the gate homeboy.
  • Dude at gate: Okay okay tacoblocko. *opens gates*
  • Me: Ayyyy all my rainbow fagtrons, and straighty pies. I'm home!