too lazy to find the things to reply to

missing, if seen, please report to- [ teen!richie x teen!reader x teen!stan ] .2

summary: it’s the 90′s and richie tozier is still in love with you. in an unexplainable turn of events, the losers are led to believe that pennywise is back. and that you’re missing because of him.

chapter summary: stan remises on how he didn’t like you until he finaly did

warnings: none YET

a/n: if anyone wants to be tagged lemme kno. also, each chapter will feature a new perspective, tho we will be mostly richie and stan and beverely

if you like my stuff and want to support me, don’t forget to treat me to a KO-FI! take part in the 7K followers gift HERE!

MASTERLIST.

PART 1. PART 3.

Stan Uris takes a quick breath, accompanied by an even quicker step as he, and the rest of the now worried Losers, try to catch up with him on the road to your house. The October sun burns brightly, not a cloud in the sky and so the whole street reflects with nearly irritating luminosity. It’s hot. Hot for such a cold morning, hot for Fall and hot enough to make Stan unzip his jacket and let the cool air caress his skin. It is entirely possible that he’s simply hallucinating this change in weather, proved by the fact that two girls pass the gang, huddled up in scarves and hats and fur boots. But Stan can’t help it he is so anxious.

After all, if Pennywise did get you, it is entirely his fault.

Keep reading

2

I needed to draw the threesome huggles.

Continuation of this Android!Baymax AU.  Gave Tadashi a matching coat that Hiro probably made for him, ‘cause he’s a little shit like that and Tadashi plays along.

Good Grief - Chapter One

Jungkook makes a habit of showing up drunk to a nearby flower shop. Bad puns and fluffy pining ensue.

Or, a college!au in which BTS are all frat boys, Namjoon is a science club president,Jimin just wants a good party, and Jungkook is hopelessly fascinated by the girl who takes care of flowers in her free time.

author’s note:  hiiiiiii!! so this is my first ever fanfiction, and to be completely honest- it’s a long ride. so strap in, and get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions. Also there is a soundtrack/playlist for this fic! If you enjoy listening and reading (or, if you just want to have a g list of songs) you can find it here !

disclaimer:
All mentions of the university in this fic are purely pulled from my ass— I don’t claim to know anything on a deep, spiritual level about university clubs, classes or frat parties. Side characters, that aren’t specifically Bangtan Members™, are all made up and therefor fictional .

If you’d prefer reading on AO3 the link is here

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12:25 pm

Sometimes Kageyama would find himself lying in bed, curtains drawn and alarm snoozed so many times he’d lost count. He’d shift in the comfortable warmth of his bed, pushing away his responsibilities to the back of his mind. It was around 12 pm, but it felt earlier. Maybe if he believed hard enough, it might make him feel better about wasting half the day in bed.

Oh well… Kageyama stretched, closing his eyes and appreciating how good it felt as he relaxed back into the sheets.

A blaring noise cut through the silence and Kageyama grumbled under his breath, thinking it was another alarm he’d forgotten to turn off. But when he found his phone and squinted at the name, his face relaxed, and something that might have been a smile crossed his lips as he pressed answer.

He didn’t have to say hello. Never even had to say anything, really. Hinata talked more than enough for both of them, and Kageyama secretly loved to hear him ramble about everything and nothing.

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anonymous asked:

My friend literally said that Chim harem is dead and now I’m a little disappointed. Like how can you say that when it’s an all round thing??? Can you Bless my night with a gif set of Yoongi always trying to hold Jimin’s hand? Or just yoonmin? ☹️

your friend is obviously a hater and sorry it took a while but here’s a gif set for you~~!

let's hope the gif shows up

Hey Steph, how are you doing? :D  Just letting you know that my iPod was on shuffle this morning and startled me with its random song choice… Looks like it might be on to something! haha

(submitted by notimeforhatred)


HAHAHHAHAHA OH DEAR. 

The universe, Lovely.

THE UNIVERSE. This show man will end us all.

Also: “Along Comes Mary, Hooray for Boobies.” That’s the first one, and then “DONDE ESTAS YOLANDA BITCH, SYMPATHETIQUE”.

I dunno I’m finding that WAY too fucking hilarious. I’m tired, hot and drugged up on painkillers LOL.

anonymous asked:

The real difference between Bree and Lili is that Lili never dated/is dating Cole. And even if lili is, they aren't in a relationship long enough to reach the point of having those conversations. I'm sure Bree was dating cole for a while before those things began to bother her. Also I think you are seriously fucked up for judging Bree and judging her relationship with Cole vs Lili & Cole. Like wtf do you know?

It seems I know a lot more than you since you’re actually defending Bree. There is so much evidence which proofs that Bree is an attention-whoring bitch, who tried to destroy Cole’s reputation by sharing very private details and lies!

Second of all, why wouldn’t Cole and Lili have these kind of conversations? It’s not like they just started dating yesterday, they’re both very mature and as we have seen, Lili is supporting Cole completely.

Concerning Bree, I would like to quote @thewomaninthepictureisme :

“With no trust, there is no relationship. If she didn’t believe he could even go out on professional photoshoots with women without sticking his dick in them, she didn’t deserve him. Thank God he’s found someone more mature and trusting (who ironically is the same age as Bree was back then, so you can’t even use age as being an excuse for this behaviour).”

I’m too lazy to write down why she is an absolute bitch and what kind of things she’s done in the past, because then I still wouldn’t be done tomorrow, but just search for “breetch” on @zumpie‘s blog and you will find all the details ;)

【7】MRT Squeeze - Elijah and Norman (Part 2/ 4)

N: “Ey, don’t be too obvious ley.”

Elijah read the message and removed his hands.

E: “Hehehe.”

“Kent Ridge. Please mind the platform gap.”

The train reached Kent Ridge. Elijah and Norman alighted together. The wet patch on Norman’s pants was pretty obvious, and Elijah made a sweet attempt to loan Norman his briefcase to cover it as they exit the station.

“Haha, I guess it’ll be sufficient till here.” Norman’s husky, manly voice said as he passed Elijah back his briefcase. “See you at 2pm then?” Elijah said. “Yup. Cya.” Norman smiled. Elijah and Norman parted their ways to the school of business and the halls.


After finishing his training, Norman remembered his date with Elijah. He rushed back as soon as possible. It was a good presentation for Elijah today, which explains his upbeat mood.

E: “Heya, you coming back right? Where should I wait for you?”

N: “Yep, I’m reaching soon. Wait for me at the place we parted?”

Elijah went to the MRT entrance and waited like a boy waiting for his parents after school.

A hand wrapped around Elijah’s shoulder. “Hey sorry I’m late.” Norman said in his husky, sexy voice. Elijah broke into a smile, smitten by Norman’s charisma. “It’s ok.” Norman brought Elijah to his hall. As Norman and Elijah made their way to the hostel, the girls who walked pass were gawking at Norman. Elijah was slightly perturbed by the stares.

“Woah, so many girls staring at you… haha.” Elijah said. “How’d you know that they are staring at me and not you?” Norman smiled. They finally reached Norman’s room. As he unlocked the door, Norman picked up some letters on the floor. “From Mandy xoxo” “From Cheryl” “Megan” It was all confession letters. Norman didn’t take a second look and dumped them into the bin near the door.

“Not gonna read anyone of it?” Elijah asked. “Not like I’ll be interested in any of them, right? Green Tea for you?” Norman replied. Norman took a pack of Green tea from the mini fridge and passed it to Elijah who made himself comfortable, sitting on Norman’s bed. Norman’s room was a typical boy’s room. Messy, but Norman could still find his things around.

Underwear strewn around the room, god knows if they’re clean. Elijah picked up one on the floor, there were some traces of pre cum on it. “Sorry about the messy room eh? Too lazy to clean up.” Norman said while sitting beside Elijah. “It’s alright haha. I’m not any better.” Elijah laughed it off. Suddenly, there was a silence in the room, to the extent you could hear the air conditioner blowing air out.

Norman took the first move, placing his hands on Elijah’s ass wrapped in his executive pants. Elijah moved his hands into Norman’s singlet and started flicking his nipples sensually. It was almost intuitive to kiss. Their lips met, from the gentle and soft kisses to wet, passionate frenching. Norman multi-tasked, caressing Elijah’s bulge while unbuttoning his white shirt.

Elijah removed Norman’s singlet with ease, playing the wet spot on his sweatpants. He was sizing Norman up. At least a good 6.5 inches. Elijah stood up to remove his shirt. It was tight fitting, showing his biceps and triceps perfectly, not forgetting those perky nipples. Norman then unbuckled Elijah’s pants and pulled it down all the way to his legs.


(to be continued)

Part 3

10

First 6: season 1. Last 3: season 2

Hello,

Like BMP2, MFW has lots of chibi stuff too (avatars, gacha, wife lv up, campaign and event banner animations, etc.) so I’m just assuming you want the profile chibis (I have seen edits of these around but can’t find the transparent ones so I’ll just post them here ^^;)

Sorry for the shadow thing but the original images up there are already transparent, and the shadow looks pretty too I’ll just leave them as it is (because lazy and I don’t want to ruin it with my crappy transparent making skill :“>)

anonymous asked:

I need your opinion . Why would annabeth be scared of percy? Like when she says that in blood of Olympus ? About what happened in Tartarus and that stuff? What did she fear ???

someone could probably explain this better than i could, but if i remember correctly she was afraid of the things he could potentially do with his powers

in·ti·ma·cy
i. the catch they refuse to put down in books forgotten in church pews is as follows; heaven only exists in your memories. you create heaven in moments that have already happened, without the pearly gates or judgement. it is why you always reminded me that i am not aware of what i’m missing until i’ve immortalized it into something i will never be able to experience again.
ii. you do not, cannot, exist in the emptiness of one person. the brutal truth is that no one is worth it. everyone lies on their back and sees the same world in different shades, everyone is making mistakes that keep them up at night, they have no room to contain your multitudes.
iii. you are only subjected to understanding how selfish this notion is when you become too much for yourself, when you wish more than anything to stuff your runoff emotions and times you’ve stayed up singing to the sunrise into the cracks of someone who’d rather get drunk late and leave the bed cold in the morning than tell you that you are not as important as you like to think you are
iv. i am not as important as i like to think i am

ab·sence
i. i can’t bring myself to say sorry for leaving, i am chasing sunsets and even though i hope you are sitting in one dimension or another, i refuse to be tethered to these actions. i love the noise of your boots on the asphalt but i will keep you in a moment that has now already happened and make you heaven after i stop hearing that sound like my favorite song when i wake up at three AM and forget that i am alone
ii. i have always had intense eyes and you used to tell me that the way my hair falls in front of my face was your favorite thing in the whole universe but you stopped brushing it away to see all of me and i can’t help but be worried that maybe i stuffed all of my anger into the parts of you that were still grasping for air and i smothered your flames like a child holding onto a bird so tight it dies in her palms
iii. i remember waking you up in the middle of the night and saying, “do you think that love is just timing how long it takes you to get the other person to hate you?” i don’t remember your exact reply but you started sleeping in a different bed after that

in·sol·u·ble
i. one time my mom told me that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result so even though there is no medicine that will numb my senses and make it hard to wake up early but keep you foggy in my memory, we should stop trying to mean it when we mumble out “i love you” all the times we are both bored and too lazy to find someone new
ii. like most people who choose writing over therapy, i am a liar. i have always been a self-centered liar that only cares about myself but for the sake of inspiration on my fingertips i can pretend we were in love at one point or another.
iii. i talk too fast and you told me that you hated that about me before i threw something in your direction aiming to miss and hitting your shoulder (i’m sorry) that was our worst fight and you stopped looking me in the eyes until i packed up all of my things and tiptoed around your temper and out of the house
iv. i didnt exactly keep count but i think it took around seven months and twelve days to get you to hate me and you’ve never said it but the whole world feels like it has shut me out and gone cold and if recounting all of this is what heaven is supposed to be like, i would rather fall backwards into hell because at least it is warm there

rep·e·ti·tion
i. i’ve exhausted all of my apologies because i have been conditioned to feel bad about not fulfilling peoples expectations and you made the word sorry sound sharp, i am far away from my ambitions and if you were still here youd call me lazy but youd kiss me after
ii. when it is very late, i start to believe that maybe i have the capacity of multitudes inside of me and thats why all i do is feel sorry for myself, because i am the only one in the world capable of carrying the hearts of the people that don’t love me anymore
iii. when morning comes, i am always able to convince myself that i am not as important as i like to think that i am.

—  definitions from the last year and a half / k.s.
Request: No Control

Request: hi! id like to request an imagine; a dean x reader one based off of one directions song No Control? its one of my fave songs, thanks!

Word Count: 1,491

Thank you, this was a really interesting one to write! I hope you like it!<33

You’re gone when he wakes up. The other side of the bed is cold, but wrinkled – thinking about it sends a thousand memories flooding back. He could never forget you – the way you move; the way you make him feel, the way you set every nerve alight with your own personal flame and force him in closer to you, wanting to be with you every moment of the day.

The pang of loss echoes throughout his entire soul as he sits up slowly, the smell of you assaulting his senses – something sweet, with just a hint of spice that reignites his nerves with the tiniest of sparks. He smiles at your memory, still so fresh in his mind.

He forces himself up out of bed, letting the cool autumn air assault his skin – the tiniest traces of you litter the motel room – the lipstick fingerprint on the stained white mug, abandoned on the table. When he lifts a finger to his mouth, the pink creamy substance still stains his skin from your kisses. He’s about to wipe it away when he spots a note on the desk, down close to the sink.

Thanks for last night. See you ‘round, Winchester.

And that’s it. You’re probably long gone by now, any chance of catching up to you gone with the few extra hours of sleep he’s had.

You’ve always had a habit of running. It’s what you’ve always done, when you panicked or didn’t know what to do with yourself – never in hunting, though. In real life, sure – get caught shoplifting you’d run, but faced head on with an angry demon you’d easily stand your ground. The memory makes him smile, and he reaches for the half-full bottle of beer still left on the floor – but then pauses. The taste of you is still sweet on his tongue, and he isn’t quite ready to let it go just yet.

He knows, thanks to the incessant burning deep in his soul, that he has no option that to track you down. He feels like a loaded gun, brimming with gunpowder, jumping around in his desperation to get you back in his arms.

He’d hoped, for just a moment, that you’d still be lying there when he woke up like you had been the night before – head on his chest, arm around his stomach, your warmth lulling him off into the best sleep he’s had in living memory. He’d laid there, just listening to your slow, rhythmic breathing for a while, and for just a few hours, life was really good.

Dean gathers up his scattered thoughts for long enough to start the tracking efforts – checking your credit card history and seeing where you’re heading. As it turns out, just moments ago you’d made a purchase at a gas station just under two hours from here. You’re not as far away as he thought, and so he slams the laptop shut, gathering his things quickly and getting out of there. He speeds too quickly down the highway, calling all of the hunters he knows are in the area to look out for you. He closes his eyes, pushing the pedal to the metal and urging the Impala on faster, willing the world to spin slower to give him extra time. You’re assaulting his senses again, everything becomes you. When he finally does open his eyes, he’s almost convinced himself that you’re sat beside him, and another pang echoes through his chest when you’re not.

The drive seems to take forever, but he manages to find the motel where you’ve taken up residence. Your car is parked outside and hope springs into his chest as he sees it there. He parks up and climbs out of his own car, going to knock on the door – however, there’s no answer.

“Y/N?” He calls, “Y/N, it’s me. You in there?”

Once again, he’s met with silence. He frowns, peering through the frosted glass window – no lights are on, and he doesn’t see movement.

So he sits on the hood of his own car, and waits. In hindsight, later on, he’ll probably see this as incredibly creepy but right now? All he wants is to see your face again. As he sits there, in the cold, dewy air, he finds himself running through a greatest hits reel of your time together.

You’ve never been together, not officially. You met him in the summer of 1995, when you were both sixteen – your parents had died not long sooner and you were together for as long as it took for you to get a handful of fake IDs, some information from his father, and go hunting, alone, at sixteen. Then you’d found yourselves together a few times since then, sometimes hunting, and sometimes, just hanging out. The few memories Dean has of just being able to let go and be a young adult, reckless and free, are with you – either drinking stolen liquor in the woods in the early hours of the morning or setting fire to skips across a town (he maintains that it was your idea and you insist that it was his) you managed to have some adventures together. When Sam had gone off to Stanford, you’d filled in the hole for a while, staying with him until John had cooled down.

Then, you were gone. And last night was the first time he’d seen you since then, and suddenly, he can’t get enough – like you’re some kind of drug and that hit was what sent him over the edge, into total addiction.

“Dean?!” He hears from across the parking lot, followed by the smart, uniform clicks of your boots as you jog across the concrete, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I… followed you.” He says, staring at you. You look confused and a little scared – if your hands weren’t clutching the bag of diner food, they’d be shaking horribly. You take a deep breath, slowly advancing towards him.

“I figured,” You say softly, moving towards the door, “C’mon, you’ll freeze out here.”

You unlock the door and let him in. He stands on the other side of the room, silenced by your presence as if you’re some kind of holy being. You pace nervously, placing the bag on the side cabinet and folding your arms, then unfolding them.

“Dean, why are you here?” You ask softly, the look in your eyes something between concern and suspicion. He takes a slow breath, half expecting some great big beautiful speech about how he feels and what effects you have on him to pour out, but all that slips out is a rather pathetic whisper.

“I love you.”

That changes your face entirely. What he first sees as repulsion is surprise and you freeze up, staring at him incredulously.

“Y/N, I know this is crazy but with you everything is good and right and bright and perfect,” He’s lost control of his tongue, and now it’s running wild with the thoughts that overflowed his mind throughout the morning, “And I know I’ve left it so late and you probably don’t even feel the same but I feel like if I put the brakes on this, on us, everything I’ve ever done will be for nothing. I can never get enough of you – I never could. Y/N, I need you.” He finishes on a whisper, restraining himself from clamping his hands over his mouth.

“Dean…” You murmur, testing his name on your lips. Words failing you, you step forward – left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, and-

You stare into his candy apple eyes for just a moment before leaning in, gripping his leather jacket lapels with both of your hands and using the leverage to stretch up and kiss him. He gasps, stealing your breath, kissing you back boundlessly like you’re the blood running through his veins. Pedal to the metal, he sweeps you up into his arms, keeping his lips locked with yours, and carries you over to the bed.

***

When he wakes up, the other side of the bed is warm. In fact, everything is warm – including the body curled into his side. He blinks a few times, looking down at your sleeping form. A lazy smile crosses his face as he smells your perfume again – sweet, with just a touch of spice. Stronger now, too, holding him hostage along with your presence. He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead to find you already awake, looking up at him with perfect E/C eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He smiles softly, brushing a lock of hair from your face. You smile right back at him, the look of peace and contentment on your face the best thing he’s seen… maybe ever.

“G’morning, handsome.” You reply right back, and a warmth spreads through his chest – he could happily live in this moment forever, letting the outside world pass by, out of his control.

5sos preferences #19: Spending a lazy day with him

Requested: by goawaylukey



Calum: “How about breakfast in bed?” Calum walked in with a tray of food for two. You were a feeling a little sick, just a small fever, nothing to worry about. “Sounds good.” You smiled, sitting up as Calum took place next to you. “Here you are, sweetie.” Handing you your food. You began eating slowly as Calum walked over to the TV, putting on your favorite movie. He fell back onto the bed, his hands behind his head as he watched you eat as you focused on the TV. He put his thumb on the corner of your mouth, wiping away some butter and licking it off. After finishing eating, you put the tray away on the bedside table. “Calll…” You whined. “What, love?” “I want cuddles.” You pouted. “I’m right here.” He said, pulling you to him. “Ask and you shall receive.” He kissed your hair, watching the movie with you. “And if you fall asleep that wouldn’t be the worst thing.” He mumbled to you.

Ashton: “It’s all set up!” Ashton told you standing with his arms wide in front of the hammock he had been setting up all morning. You stepped out into the sunshine, taking a look at his creation. “Wanna try it out?” Ashton asked. “You first.” You grinned. He climbed in, the sturdy fabric still holding him. He opened his arms as a sign for you to join him. “Wait here.” You said, running back in. After a few minutes you came back out with sunglasses, drinks and some food, putting it all on the table next to Ash, protecting it from the sun. “Now I don’t think we need to get up for a few good hours.” You smiled, climbing into his arms. “Good thinking.” Ashton said, getting his sunglasses and yours as you positioned yourself. He put them on top of your head, kissing your forehead. The sun wasn’t too hot and there was a nice breeze playing with Ashton’s and your hair. “Hmmm.. I love spending lazy days with you, love.“ Ashton sighed being satisfied. “Me too.” You replied, not feeling like talking anymore. You spent the day like that making things out of the clouds until the stars started twinkling down on you and you could hear the birds finding their places to sleep, saying goodnight to each other.

Luke: Lazy days with Luke usually happened on his day off. As if you tuned your body to those moments you knew he was up for one. You loved to be busy all the time, enough energy to do everything you wanted to do. Here was another lazy day, staring at the fair skinned boy next to you with his arms all over his pillow, his chest rising and falling. You took the pillows that were on the floor, propping them up against the wall behind you. Getting at least 3 extra blankets and a few extra pillows that you could find, you put them all in a heap on top of Luke. He took a deep breath and talked with his eyes closed. “What are you doing?” He asked, opening one eye to look at you. “Building a castle for my prince.” You replied, sticking out your tongue. “Shouldn’t the prince build one for his princess?” Luke asked, stretching his arms and legs, now resting his head on his hand. “These are the modern days, babe.” You grinned, jumping on top of the pile of softness that covered Luke’s body. He huffed, pushing you off to the side and then pulling you underneath the fort, covering the both of you. Soft light shone through the fabric, a bit of sunlight creeping from under the parts that didn’t touch the bed. Luke created space by lying on top of you, kinda hovering so his weight didn’t crush you. He started kissing you gently on every piece of skin he could find as you hid your face in his neck, pulling him to you hugging him.

Michael: Michael woke up groaning, turning on his other side, his hand roaming your sleepy figure. The alarm kept ringing, not knowing if it was heard or not, and with a sigh and a growl Michael slammed the poor thing. With his sleepy morning voice, still raspy from the night he called out your name. “Y/n. Y/n.” “Y/n’s not here, leave a message.” You replied, still half dreaming. Michael chuckled. “I have to get up.” He said quietly. “Today is cancelled.” You said, turning to him, wrapping your arms around him as you cuddled your cheek to his chest. “I wish that interview was.” Michael complained. “Please stay here. Have a lazy day with me. I’m going home tomorrow.” Michael could feel your pout against his bare skin. “Ssh. We don’t talk about that.” Michael said, remembering it. Although he had to get up at this point to be in time, he stayed in place staring at the ceiling, rubbing your back softly. You peeked up at him as he seemed to text on his phone. He put his phone away after reading a reply and looked back down at you. “Today is cancelled.” He said with a crooked smile on his face as he went back to cuddling with you.

bunbunbab  asked:

Adrien's skin did kind of have a yellow tone to it from earlier in the show but toward some of the newer episodes it looks like they fixed it a bit to make it less yellow-ish

ok i agree with this. the reason why i took so long to reply is because i was verifying it:

in the first 2 (korean) episodes, his skin color was wayyy more yellow than the one i usually use for him. maybe this is because he is standing in the sunlight but im too lazy to find more pics.

in the last two episodes his skin tone is definitely less yellow. i think his hair got blonder too well shit another thing to change 

but the thing is ive been coloring him relative to marinette, who is basically the same skin color as nathalie over there, and i usually dont color her that pink/red. so i make adrien more yellow to counter-balance it out, if that makes sense.

  • Deadbones’s jaw actually dropping
  • Deadbones being lazy and just turning his head 180 degrees to reply to someone
  • Deadbones losing his hand when he gets too animated while talking
  • Deadbones waking up to find the squires/lords have switched his hands and feet
  • Deadbones using a bow and arrow and accidentally firing both the arrow and his hand
  • Deadbones doing that cartoon thing where he loses his head and has to redirect his body toward it, but it can’t see anything and keeps bumping into stuff