what the hell are you doing here


“What the hell is your boyfriend doing here?” Zander said smugly, “I could see you two down the hall.”

“Shut up!” Tillie spat, looking around to ensure no one else is in earshot, “he’s not my boyfriend!”

“Sure thing, Til,” he yawned, “I could practically see him eye-fucking you from here. Don’t tell me you missed that.”

“Will you stop?” Tillie scolded, “I don’t need this right now. We’re here for Aida!”

“Sorry,” he sighed, “but you know what he is. I couldn’t stand to see you messed up in that.”

“I know,” she replied, “I learned my lesson, don’t worry. I’m so worried to think what Aida’s gotten herself into. It has to be bad if she has the Eagles trailing after her.”

“Yeah, I know,” Zander said quietly, "those guys are ruthless…”

Prev | Next

anonymous asked:

Polyamorious relationship with 2017 penny, 1990 penny, and their s/o tho- Good shit

Yes! Okay this would be perfect
I’m weak for (healthy) jealousy so can you imagine the fights between the two?

“I love them more.”

“The hell you do, Nickelsmart. I was here first!”

“Stop calling me that! I give the best kisses anyways so suck on that!”

“I give the best cuddles! Chubby is better because of all the body heat.”

- so much affection
- you’ll always have one to cuddle while the other one is hunting
- imagine teaching both of them memes
- 90’s Penny just doesn’t fuckin get it
- 2017 Penny gets what you mean but fucks them up still
“Babe, I just scared the HECK out of this kid and he tasted delicious! It was so fire!”

Inktober - Haunted

Some more SSWH fun - thanks to @akira-of-the-twilight for organizing sswh month! 

Original prompt list here

“This is stupid, even for us.”

Bucky glared at the white sheet, with round eye holes cut out. Steve paused, carefully placing the scissors down onto ground.

“What do you mean?”

Bucky swiveled his blank stare over to Clint who snickered as he floated through the air, white sheet thrown over his head as he practiced his ‘spooky’ sounds. Clint squeaked as he bumped into a lamp, and Steve winced as it crashed to the ground.

“This wouldn’t even scare a ten-year-old. How the hell is it gonna scare Stane?”

Speaking of Stane, they could hear the booming laughter through the floor of the attic. Another dinner party, filled with obnoxious guests and loud music vibrated throughout the mansion, a constant since Stane decided to move into the Stark mansion.

Steve straightened with a sigh, flickering as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Well we have to do something. We can’t just here and do nothing while that awful man ruins our home.” Steve clenched his fist. “Especially after what’s he’s done to Tony. We can’t let him get away with it!”

Clint pulled the sheet off his head. “Yeah, even if I have to possess that awful Bain woman again for a hour, it would be worth it if we could help Tony.” Clint opened the door to the attic, and peeked down the stairs. “Where’s Tony anyways? Isn’t he normally forced to go to these parties?”

Bucky grimaced as he floated beside Clint, scanning for Tony in the small crowd. “I think Stane might’ve locked him in his room again.”

“Yeah, I managed to break out eventually. I’ll have to sneak back before he finds out later though.”

Clint and Bucky jumped as they whirled around. “Geez Tony, don’t do that!”

Tony smirked. “What, scare you to death? A little redundant isn’t it?”

Tony squeaked as Steve pulled him into a hug. Steve twirled Tony as he patted him down in concern. “Are you alright? We haven’t seen you in days!”

“I’m fine Steve! Obie decided that since I won’t agree to sign his contract he’s going to ‘teach me a lesson’ by ‘letting me think’ in my room.”

Steve growled. “Can’t you just go to the police?”

Tony sighed. “In theory, yes. Obie’s paid most of them off though, and since he’s got all the power over the company until I turn 25, I’m stuck for another year waiting. That’s why he’s getting more desperate. And before you ask again, I can’t just run. I can’t. Not with all those people counting on me…”

Tony patted Steve’s arm. “I’m alright for now, I promise. Jarvis has been sneaking me the good food every day.”

Clint clutched Tony to his chest. “That man is awful, and you shouldn’t have to wait another year. We’re gonna do our best to get rid of him.”

Tony frowned. “No, I don’t want him to start believing in ghosts, then he’ll actually see you guys. What if he hires an exterminator?”

Bucky took his turn, gathering Tony into his arms, tucking Tony’s head under his chin. “Don’t worry doll, I called in some reinforcements from the bureau.”

Clint and Steve stared at Bucky appalled. “What. Why didn’t you tell us? We totally could’ve done it ourselves!!”

Bucky glared as he stared pointedly at the discarded white sheets on the ground. “I really don’t think so. Besides, Natasha is a professional haunter at the bureau and she owes me a favour. Coulson even went through all the paperwork.”

Tony opened his mouth, before shaking his head. “Do I want to know? Probably not. Don’t tell me. Please just don’t get hurt. Any of you.”

Bucky hugged him tighter. “Don’t worry doll, we’ll get Stane out of here in no time.”

anarchy → bangtan sonyeondan (preview)

⤷ assassin!au where the infamous assassins known as bangtan owe you a favor

fluff / angst / smut

| coming soon |

Originally posted by jungk0oksthighs

The room was extremely dark, the only light coming from the open door he stood at. A figure sat silently on at the bed, legs crossed and sipping champagne. It was as though whoever it was knew they would be here.

Jungkook flicked on the light switch, and recognized the person instantly. The plan had gone by smoothly, the body disposed. Why must she interrupt the moment of victory?

He pulled her from her position on the bed and pinned her against the closet wall, nearly causing her to fall from the sudden motion. But, she only smirked at the man before her.

“Y/n, what the hell are you doing here?” he growled, leaning more body weight into her to force her into the wall as though it would make her disappear.

“Hello to you, too, Detective.” she said slyly, smiling.

“I’m not going to repeat my question.”

Her eyes caught his, his stare a mix of confusion and anger. It only made her want to laugh aloud, how she could manage to make one of the infamous members so confused and weak.

“I need a favor. I believe your little… group… owes me a favor, don’t they?”

Wrong Turn  {Sentence Starters}

  • “Drop your pants.“
  • “Look, I need to pee.“
  • “Okay, who lives here?“
  • “God, look at this place.“
  • “Hey, what’s your name?“
  • “I think they need to be alone.“
  • “I’d rather jump than burn to death!”
  • “Hey? Did you find anything to eat?“
  • “Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing?“
  • “I found it in my dad’s room, actually.“
  • “C'mon, you motherfuckers. Just die.“
  • “I can’t believe they called us stoners.“
  • “No, they’re not… You were dreaming.“
  • “And we’re gonna get married. All right?“
  • “Yeah, it’s like the garage sale from hell.“
  • “Actually, maybe we should keep walking.“
  • “We are never going into the woods again!“
  • “Yeah. If you ask me, though, nature sucks.“
  • “You’re the one who’s gonna need to take care.“
  • “I think, if you ever want to get in my pants, again…“
  • “I’m running behind and I really need to make a call.“
  • “We’re gonna stay alive. We’re gonna get out of this.“
  • “We are gonna get out of this, I swear to you, we are.”
  • “I don’t know, but can you help me find the bathroom?“
  • “Why don’t we just wait for someone else to come along?“
  • “You can’t just go barging into someone’s house like that.“
  • “We need to keep ourselves alive, or it was for nothing. Okay?“
  • “Uh, this one’s not working. Do you have another phone I could use?“
  • “Just get me to a motel room, run me a very hot bath and be prepared to provide me with a lot of orgasms.“
  • “We’re gonna get out of these woods, we’re gonna find the police, and we’re gonna make sure those motherfuckers are punished for this. Okay?”

childishnothingsdee  asked:

Q, how the hell your outfit work!? I've been addicted trying to figure out how it's put together, and it's apparently magic. I also wanna see your back to see if there's any fun designs on the back of your cape. (PS Jolie, you're an amazing person and I absolutely adore what you do)

Thanks for the ask, it finally made me get around to making a breakdown of Q’s stupidly overcomplicated outfit XD

Check it out here

* heh, sorry to spoil the illusion, peaches, but the answer is less ‘magic‘ and more ‘layers‘.

* lots of layers.

Don’t bother

Just a little thing I thought of before… but I think it kind of makes sense? I thought of this when I saw a picture of @bluejettyy’s Celcea… … I can’t remember how seeing her brought me to this sketch lol. But in my fics Frieza and Cell are married in Hell, so that’s the setting here XD


Frieza: I want Cell and I to be revived.  

King Yemma: Not happening.

Frieza: I’ll behave myself. I promise.

King Yemma: Do you even believe that?

Frieza: Of course I do! ((I didn’t specify how long I would behave…))

King Yemma: Why do you even want the two of you to be revived? You’ll have to start using contraception - I thought you hated that.

Frieza: What? Why would we need contraception?

King Yemma: Well… if you want to be revived together, I’m assuming you intend to carry on with your relationship? You’ll continue to have sex won’t you?

Frieza: Yes? So?

King Yemma: So there’s a high chance you’ll get Cell pregnant.  

Frieza: What on earth are you talking about? Cell and I are both men!

King Yemma: You’re male, and Cell has male sex organs… but his body is also capable of absorbing the DNA of others for reproductive purposes - for example, your sperm. And because he’s part icejin you two are a match. In fact, Cell is genetically compatible with every race that he’s made up of. He’s really quite a sophisticated invention, Dr. Gero should be proud of him.

Frieza: But - this doesn’t make sense! Cell and I have done it countless times before, and I never once got him pregnant!

King Yemma: Of course you didn’t, you’re both dead. Your bodies aren’t functioning as they should be, he can’t conceive and you can’t impregnate anyone. But if you’re both revived, there’s a high chance he’ll get pregnant - unless you use contraception.

Frieza: *sigh* Dammit…

King Yemma: So. You want to stay dead?

Frieza: … Hm…

Cell: *comes into King Yemma’s office* Hey, are you guys done talking? *looks at Frieza* Are we getting revived or what?

Frieza: … I am. You’re not.

Cell: ?!


submitted by: @shawnsr0ses

Here’s pics of my cats but I can’t find a picture of my other cat so this will do. The older cat (zacky) passed away though sadly but he’s still super cute and they are my favorite pictures of him. And then there are the new kittens and they are so fat and cute.

ok what the fuck i did not ask to be attacked rn. look at the tongue. look. he’s super cute what the hell, what the hell man what the hell @talitawayne tagging you again - thanks for this!!!!!

anonymous asked:

lmao just because you cosplay as nagito doesn't mean you are him, shit for brains. no wonder you think you are him, i mean your blog is filled with fucked up stuff. and what, does the little autism child not like it when they get called autistic? you poor, pathetic loser. burn in hell.

thats my name dont wear it out hhhhahaha!
but seriously thats just me there. i dont think im “him”, i know thats me. and what does it even matter to me? my blog content doesnt really have anything to do with it. i mean.. youre here too arent you?
oh! i am a little chilly actually.. burning in hell would do me some good. thank you!

also.. youre the pussy on anon so everything you say to me is essentially meaningless.

i hate that fucking “european here just saying if another european says the word race thats the easiest way to tell theyre a racist. we dont think about race here unlike the crazy americans who are obsessed with race” post so much cause like.

europeans literally invented the entire fucking modern concept of race and racism. yall. what the fuck. why are you trying to claim you have nothing to do with this

  • Tracer: We’re here to stop the senseless slaughter of these people!
  • Reaper: 92.
  • Tracer: This has gone on for too long, and now you’re going to pay!
  • Reaper: 355.
  • Tracer: We are… We… What are you..?
  • Reaper: No, go on. Continue. Don’t mind me.
  • Tracer: And… we are the ones who will stop you!
  • Reaper: Oh, wow! 419.
  • Tracer: That’s it! What the hell are you doing?
  • Reaper: Oh, sorry. It’s a little hobby of mine. I hear these heroic speeches so wearily often. So I started keeping a mental list of how often I hear certain lines.
  • Tracer: You… You insane bastard!
  • Reaper: 190.
  • Tracer: Yeah? Well, uh… we’re going to… FUCK YOUR FACE!
  • Reaper: Oh, my!
  • Reaper: 12.
What Voltron Season 3 has Done to Our Sweet Children
  • Allura: Upside, finally got her own lion. Downside, found and alternate universe where she legalized slavery.
  • Keith: Didn't want the job, had to do it anyway. MAGNUS RUSHES IN.
  • Hunk: Didn't want the job, didn't have to do it. Taako's good out here.
  • Lance: Asked for the job, but got transferred. Is still too slow for the Red Lion. Also, our sniper got a sniper rifle. Why couldn't his old weapon do that again?
  • Pidge: Would've ROCKED the job, but the Green Lion has the only booster seat.
  • Coran: Who the hell do you think he is?
  • Shiro: He's Squidward, he's Squidward, I'm Squidward! Are there any other Squidwards I should know about?!
  • Sven: Meow.
  • Lotor: Gathers a group of token women ethnic minorities and creates the illusion of a civil rights movement to expand government control and make himself look good. My god, the arch-nemesis of Voltron is neo-liberalism.
  • Lotor's Squad: IDK, we're all still trying to memorize their names and decide on whom to marry first.

I know a lot of people are upset that we didn’t get to see Dean carry Cas’s body into the house—and don’t get me wrong, I wanted to see it too; but can you imagine them actually trying to film that scene? It would’ve been impossible!

Attempt 1:

“Okay—just jump up here” Jensen says, squatting down some and holding out his arms.

“No way!” Misha yelps instantly, backing up a few paces.

“Why not?”

“You’re gonna drop me!”

“I won’t drop you!” Jensen scoffs, opening his arms wider now and motioning for Misha to move.

“Hell no! As soon as I jump, you’ll drop me.”

“I’ve carried you before, man. Did I drop you then?”

“That was for photos and shit—two seconds tops. This is a whole scene!” Misha argues, putting his hands on his hips.

“C’mon, guys! Are we doing this or what?” Phil calls out from somewhere behind the monitors.

“Yep!” Jensen answers quickly and then motions to Misha again—this time, with an urgent look on his face.

Misha rolls his eyes but eventually moves in closer, bracing one hand on Jensen’s shoulder before throwing his own body into the air.

Jensen grunts.

They both immediately tumble to the ground.

Attempt 2:

“Dude—why are your arms around my neck?”

“I don’t want to fall again!” Misha whines, looking warily towards the gravel as Jensen scoots along.

Jensen breathes out a strained laugh at that . “Yeah, but you’re supposed to be dead. This is kinda killing the illusion.”

“I don’t think so” Misha mutters, obviously choosing to be difficult now.

“Seriously, dude? I can’t carry dead-Cas inside, bridal-style!” Jensen huffs, shifting his arms a little to try and keep Misha’s weight in the air.

“Why not? You carrying me to my death bed is pretty much the same as you carrying me to the marriage bed … especially on this show.”

Jensen quickly drops Misha again.

Attempt 3:

Jensen is out of breath—and his back is hurting like a mother fucker, but he hunkers down to lift Misha up once more.

And this time—Misha slumps his body backwards and completely relaxes his muscles, which nearly breaks Jensen in two.

Oof! God—damn!” Jensen grunts, trying desperately to step forward across the dirt and grass. “It’s like—ugh—carrying a—agh—a sack of wet leather!”

Misha slits one eye open and smirks at his costar. “You’re so sweet, Dean. This is why I fell for you in the first place.”

He’s prepared to be dropped this time, and he laughs as he rolls out of Jensen’s arms.

“What’s goin’ on, guys?” Phil yells out across the clearing.

“Nothin’!” Jensen wheezes, bending his body over his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “Just—just need a minute!”

A second later, Jared is bounding up to them. “Hey, y’all okay?”

Misha chuckles and goes over to pat Jensen on the back. “Yeah—someone just needs to spend more time lifting weights.”

Jensen immediately sneers up at the other man. “And someone else needs to lay off the pizza!”

“How about I be the one to carry him in?” Jared says suddenly—loud enough for Phil to hear it too.

“We could try that” Phil says, sounding frustrated and just eager to get this scene over with.

“What?” Misha yelps. “No way! No, no, no, no, no! No way Jared is carrying me!”

“Wha—why?” Jared asks, feigning some puppy dog innocence that is damn near Oscar worthy.

“You know exactly why!” Misha insists, taking several steps backwards to be out of the moose’s long reach. “Phil! You can’t be serious! Jared is just going to throw me in the lake if we do it this way!”

Jared’s face bursts into a giant grin, and his eyes sparkle like a Disney character whose wish just came true. “The lake! I didn’t even think of that!”

Misha groans loudly, and Jensen is laughing– all while Phil is angrily rubbing his temples behind the monitor.

Attempt 4:

“Are we ready yet?”

“One more sec, Phil!” Misha answers, turning back to look at Jared and Jensen with a face of warning.

“How about we both carry him in?” Jared suggests, and it sounds genuine but Misha still isn’t falling for it.

“No! Not gonna happen! Then you’ll both just throw me into the lake!”

Jensen rolls his eyes but he can’t stop himself from smiling. “No we won’t, man. Seriously—we’re losing the light here. We need to get this done.”

“I know that! Don’t you think I know that? But this is my dead body we’re talking about and I need to make sure it’s respected!”

“We’ll respect it” Jared insists.

“Since when have you ever respected it?” Misha counters.

“Okay! Alright! Just… Jared, get back there—we’re gonna try this again the way it’s scripted, okay?”

Jared holds up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine, but I’ll be over here if you need me.”

“We won’t need you” Misha warns, knowing Jared’s deviousness all too well and it’s starting to make him break out in hives.

Jared laughs but finally backs away, until he’s far off on the other side of the set.

Jensen then takes a deep breath. “Okay, man. Let’s go. Let’s do this.”

Misha nods, and they both seem determined now.

With a heave and some careful balancing, Misha is once again in Jensen’s arms and Jensen is once again, huffing his way to the front door of the cabin. He’s huffing a lot … he sounds like he’s in pain.

“You okay?” Misha whispers, trying not to look up or move his mouth much—because, he is dead after all.

“Fine” Jensen wheezes shortly, but he doesn’t sound very convincing.

“You sure?” Misha asks again.

“Shh!” Jensen snips, trying to concentrate.

Misha finally peeks up at him. “Your face is really red.”

Jensen doesn’t answer, he just strains to keep Misha in his grasp.

“And your veins are popping out of your neck.”

“I’m acting” Jensen finally grunts.

Acting—constipated?” Misha asks.

“Shut up!”

“Ow—okay, now you’re pinching my ass!”

“Well, I need to hold onto something!”

“You need to hold onto my ass?”

“It’s got the most grip.”

“Okay … okay … now that just tickles!” Misha starts to laugh, squirming a little and it eventually  throws Jensen off balance.

“F—fu—fuck!” Jensen wobbles to one side and sends Misha rolling dramatically  onto the ground.

“I can help!” Jared yells out, sounding so excited, he might just burst.

“No … no, that’s alright, Jared” Phil cuts in, just as Misha is lifting himself from the dirt. “We’ve been talking and we think we’re just going to cut this scene. It’s uh … it’s not working out.”

With that, Misha throws his fist into the air victoriously, and Jensen drops exhaustively to the ground with the overwhelming relief—and Jared’s disappointed moans can be heard all the way on the other side of the lake; echoing out “Aw, man!”  and “Damnit” and lamenting all the glorious opportunity that he’s just lost.

Keith’s Motivations this Season

Aka, “Me Trying To Puzzle Out Keith When I Still Haven’t Even Finished the First Episode.” Let’s pop off.

So the conflict this season is obviously Keith’s responsibilities as a Paladin vs his desire to help the Blades. And because Keith’s life is a melodrama, his problems quickly become everyone else’s. But the real question is: Why is he doing all this in the first place?

(cracks my knuckles) Time to one part analyze, one part predict, one part headcanon.

Here are my theories as to what Keith’s reasons are for doing anything this season:

1. Keith is a man of action. And Voltron hasn’t really been doing much lately.

I’m actually going to disagree with Keith here because, as pretty much Everyone in the episode points out, Voltron has been doing tons lately. They’ve been freeing planets, consolidating with rebels, leading parades- They’ve been winning.

But not in the way Keith wants. Keith is a very single-minded person, and he’s also… Not a pessimist, exactly, but he’s a realist. He knows that everything they’ve accomplished will mean jackshit so long as their real enemies (Lotor, namely, with Haggar close behind) are still out there. Keith is the kind of guy who’d rather get everything done first and then relax.

Voltron is the defender of the universe. But Keith focuses more on being a protector. He wants to be pro-active. In the earlier seasons, he was more used to being pro-active for himself since, y’know, loner. But now that he’s become the Leader, his instincts to strike first have gone into total haywire. Voltron is the defender of the universe, but Keith wants to defend Voltron. And to do that, he has to take out every possible threat he can, and he can’t do that if he’s parading himself in front of a crowd for the second time this week.

Also, Keith just… hates performative action. He’d rather have his boots on the ground doing something rather than sitting back and waiting for Lotor to come to them. The thought just makes him antsy lmfao. Keith probably feels fake under the attention like. He doesn’t really trust people just at their word, and this applies to himself. If he were really a Paladin of Voltron, he’d be out there suckerpunching Galra, not sitting around and waving at a crowd. He got enough  over-glorification and attention at the Garrison, thank you very much.

2. The Blades are fucking shit up and locking shit down.

Like, these guys are kicking ass. I’ll fully admit it, and I don’t even like them lmfao. Keith would much rather be out there risking his life for the cause instead of celebrating like they’ve already won. That’s just the kind of person he is.

Also, he definitely feels some sense of belonging with them, or something of a kindred spirit. I mean, throwback to NotAllGalra in season 2 lmfaoo. Plus, these guys are like the Key to Keith’s past and all the stuff he doesn’t know about himself. Of course he wants to get in on that.

On a side note, does Keith know anything about his mom yet? I mean like. He better. If she was a Blade and Kolivan still hasn’t told Keith jack I’m going to be PISSED on his behalf. My boy nearly dies every mission and they’re still withholding information from him? Ugh.

3. Keith is trying to avoid being the Black Paladin/Leader.

There’s only so many times Keith can try to give Shiro back the Black Lion before people start getting suspicious lmfao.

Keith really, really doesn’t want to be leader. This should be obvious by now. Before, he bore the burden grudgingly, but always with the condition of ‘until Shiro comes back.’ Well, Shiro is (supposedly) back now, but he’s not taking refunds and Keith doesn’t know what to do. It was easier before, because Keith had a clear purpose: Find Shiro. And then, later on, Stop Lotor. 

Now he’s found Shiro but Lotor is gone with the wind and Keith is frustrated that he’s still stuck in this role. Also, it’s kind of nerve-wracking to Keith that Shiro is watching and judging his every move as leader. I mean like, not really, because Shiro is a nice guy, but it Feels Like Shiro Is Measuring Him Up and it’s hell on Keith’s instincts since he’s now always second-guessing himself. What would Shiro do, you ask? Well, Shiro is right here and he has Opinions. Unfortunately, Keith’s eager beaver attitude goes directly against his urge to follow his own instincts, leading to a lot of mess and a lot of bad feelings on Keith’s part. It’s not fun feeling like you’re failing someone important to you just because you’re trying to be true to yourself.

Additionally, Shiro is the one guy in the world Keith doesn’t want to let down, and now they both have to do this awkward tango where Shiro says he’s happy that Keith is the true Black Paladin when he’s very obviously Not That Okay with it. Awkward. Of course Keith wants to bail out of this situation.

The Cabin

Nesta: (opening door of the cabin) What the hell are you doing here?

Cassian: (confused look on his face)  I have no idea, one moment I was in my townhouse and the next I was at the border of the cabin.

Nesta:  Well, go away, I don’t want you here!

Cassian: (Launches into the sky and flies off, only to appear right back at the door)

Cassian:  (Crosses his arms and smirks at her):  You do realize the cabin is spelled to provide you with everything you need, right?

Five Seconds (Richie Tozier x Reader)

Richie Tozier x Fem!Reader

*Please don’t plagiarize my work, thank you :3*

Summary: When you confessed to Richie, you got the expected response, but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less. Not even a week later he decides to talk to you, not so subtly jealous about you spending time with Ben. Things sort of…escalate from there.

Warnings: Cussing and Kissing. (oh no, not kissing! *parents screaming, children crying, Ohio catches on fire*) This is a request. DON’T HESITATE TO SEND IN REQUESTS. (Don’t send in like 50 tho. I still need sleep.)

Word Count: 1,697

“Can I t-talk to you.”

Richie stops laughing at Stan and, still giggling, turns to you. “Yeah, what’s up?”

You glance over Richie’s shoulder to see Beverly shoot you a thumbs up. “I’ve been, well- It was Beverly’s idea! But for a while now…” You stumbled over words, trying to soften the embarrassing blow of ‘I have a crush on you’.

“I like you!” You blurt, deciding to get it over with. “I l-like you as more than a friend.”

There’s a moment of silence in which you count the seconds that painfully tick by.

One. Richie’s mouth opens and closes, you can see his eyes dart to the other boys. They’re whooping and hollering, pushing him and giggling like idiots.

Two. You can feel the headrush hit you hard, along with waves of nausea.

Three. Teasing smiles stay on the boys’ faces, but Beverly’s melts off. She knows. She knows what’s going to happen.

Four. Richie’s ears turn fire hydrant red as you grow pale and faint. His eyes once again scan the boys, who continue to tease without mercy. You close your eyes, wishing they’d stop. There would be nothing to celebrate.

Five. “I’m s-sorry…”

Keep reading

spellbound (m)

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

Keep reading

bill: *answers his phone* hello?


bill: b-b-but you never t-texted me back, i th-th-thought you didn’t want to


stan: *whispering to himself* that’s what i forgot to do

13.02 coda

Thank you guys so much for all the love last week! As always, if you’d like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please send me a message <3

“Dean! Oh my - ”

Dean storms right past Sam and dumps Jack’s bloody knife in the sink. He doesn’t look at him as he turns on the water, but it doesn’t matter. Sam’s already up out of his seat and crowding against him along the counter.

“I knew you were in bad way after Cas but, Dean, I thought you were dealing - ”

Dean rolls his eyes. “It’s not mine,” he snaps, turning over his shoulder. Bright red blood pools in the sink as the faucet rushes over it.

Sam, still gaping, manages to narrow his eyes as his alarm fades away. “What did you do?”

Dean frowns. “Nothing. Why do you think that I - ”

Sam sags then, his body collapsing into itself all at once before he pulls himself to his full height. His eyes melt into that deplorable sad puppy dog look, the kind of look that’s going to turn into guilt some day. “Oh no. Oh, Jack…”

Dean shakes his head. “He’s fine, Sam. Obviously. You know damn well something like this couldn’t do any serious damage.”

Just like that, the puppy look slips away. Sam glares. His lip curls and his eyes narrow and he leans forward in the meanest way that Dean has ever seen from him. For a second he actually wonders if Sam’s going to hit him.

“You think I only care if he’s hurt? You think - Dean, that kid is suicidal now. He’s not even a week old and he - ”

Sam suddenly cuts off and wipes his face with his hand. 

“You know what?” he says. “You’re seriously messed up, man. You have a problem, and - don’t look at me like that - and you need to stay the hell away from Jack from now on.”

Dean lets the water run. Low and dark, he murmurs, “I have a problem?”

“Yeah, Dean, you do,” Sam snaps. “You didn’t see him out there, terrified and alone. He thinks you hate him. I’m starting to think that maybe you’re the one with no soul around here.”

He leaves the room, stomping away in a huff, and Dean knows that he’s headed off to Jack’s room. He’s going to clean up the mess, he’s going to try and soothe all the wounds that aren’t visible. Sam’s good like that, and he just doesn’t know when to quit.

Dean stares down into the drain, pink-dyed water circling the abyss. 

“I don’t have a fucking problem,” he insists, but it’s only to an empty room.

He shuts off the water and leaves the knife in the sink.

Keep reading

everybody wants to love you!

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

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

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

“Something wrong, Eddie?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie whined again and buried his face in his arms.

“I want to die.”

He shot Bill a glare when he laughed.


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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you smiling about?”

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

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

“My soulmate’s singing.”

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

“God bless her fucking soul.”


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

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

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

The brunet raised an eyebrow in confusion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really? Now of all times?”

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

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

“No, not really.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shoved Stan with his foot, jerking him awake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ from: bird boy ] Okay so uhh

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

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

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

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

[ to: bird boy ] im blocking you


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

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

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

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

Bill raised an eyebrow.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re in that band?”

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

He grimaced. “Don’t call me Eds.”

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

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

“Is he always like this?” he asked.

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

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

“Beep beep, Richie.”

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

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

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

“This isn’t the first time.”

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

“Another song?”

Eddie nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

Everybody wants to love you.”

He froze. The Richie sang the next part alone.

Everybody wants to love you!

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

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

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

“Want to tell me what’s going on?”

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

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

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

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

“Bill introduced me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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