a night i like to not remember

No rain, No flowers.

REQUEST : Can you please do a one where the reader forgets his birthday? - Anonymous

I know I have been MIA in writing for a while, but I had lost all the motivation to write. But I’m back and I really hope you enjoy this one! So.. ENJOY! xx

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The photoshoot

Inspired by these beautiful and hot hot pictures ;)


Draco had no idea what had possessed him to say yes to the photoshoot. The editor of Witch Weekly had practically begged him. She had been over the moon that famous Harry Potter had agreed to a very personal photo series and the editor wanted the best photographer for this. So naturally, she had come to Draco. 


“I want the Chosen One as we’ve never seen him before. I want sultry, I want sassy, I want steamy, I want sex!” she had practically screamed at him.
 He had been reluctant at first. He had no desire to be anywhere near his former arch-nemesis. But this was a great opportunity.

So here they were, in Draco’s studio, Potter in his old Gryffindor uniform. It clung to his body more tightly than Draco remembered. The prat had filled out quite a bit.


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anonymous asked:

Oh my god, I just can't stop thinking that after chapter 14 when they go to the banquet and everyone finally knows that they're together, they can dance all night and smile and laugh and be playful together like the canon!banquet but Yuuri doesn't have to be drunk and they both remember everything!!! (And then do the serious talk later or something, haha)

Two things you will definitely get to see at the end of obs&bh
1) The Big Talk
2) The banquet

Do you guys remember the dream that Chris had about Layne? It just totally breaks my heart 😢

Posted on 10/13/2008
The essence of a dream can follow you all day long. Sometimes two or three days. I have had dreams as a little kid that I remember like they were yesterday, though as time goes on these dream are sometimes hard to tell from actual events as they survive in my memory.
I am fascinated with the essence factor of dreams, period. They are as real as the essence felt from the ambience of an actual place, like a house you grew up in. Your favourite bar, or your school. The first Christmas tree you see every year, the smell of it, and especially songs. Some feelings these environments evoke are awful, some magical. All of them completely real.
Real enough that numerous cultures throughout history have believed that the dream world is every bit as important and substantial and a vital part of human life as the conscious state. Some mysticisms actually look at the world of dreams as being the “true and only world” and everything else an illusion. For my money, if you put an ice pick through your hand, I think it will prove to be a pretty fucking good illusion.
Last night I had a dream that has been following me all day like a sick dog. I was in a hotel near the house I grew up in. I was in a cafe that happened to be the lunch court of my elementary school. Various friends from my past were walking up and talking to me. In the middle of this scene walks Layne Staley. He looked much like he did the first time I met him. Shoulder length hair, clean shaved. Clear eyed and looking about 20 years old. I was so happy. Confused a little, but in a dream like this, I just wanted to accept the idea that there was some mistake and he was alive and well. He seemed happy and said was working on some new music project.
I woke up not long after that with the feeling that I had really just talked to him and he was somewhere doing just fine.
My next thought was one that has plagued me for years. Sitting in Kelly Curtis’ living room with about 30 people, all sobbing. We had just come from Andy Wood’s extra weird funeral-wake thing at the Paramount Theatre. It had these new age overtones that didn’t fit Andy’s life at all. There was an amazing film of Andy with Mother Love Bone band mates. All of Andy’s friends and family were there, mixed with a bunch of fans who I didn’t like but knew Andy would have loved. The fans went home. His friends went to Kelly’s.
We were crammed in a smallish living room with people sitting on every available surface. Couch arms, end tables, the floor. I was leaning on the back of one of the couches that face away from the rest of the room and toward the front door. I remember Andy’s girlfriend looking at everyone and saying “This is just like La Bamba” then suddenly I heard slapping footsteps growing louder and louder as they reached the front door and Layne flew in, completely breaking down and crying so deeply that he looked truly frightened and lost. Very child like. He looked up at everyone at once and I had this sudden urge to run over and grab him and give him a big hug and tell him everything was going to be OK. Kelly has always had a way of making everyone feel like everything will turn out great. That the world isn’t ending. That’s why we were at his place. I wanted to be that person for Layne, maybe just because he needed it so bad. I wasn’t. I didn’t get up in front of the room and offer that and I still regret it. No one else did either. I don’t know why.
Years later, at Layne’s funeral, I was angry. I kept hearing the “twice as bright, half as long” speech and the “he was just too special for this world” nonsense that I had heard at so many other funerals for so many other friends that were so young and talented. I’m not sure why I was that angry. Angry at Layne? Angry at all my other friends for leaving me? Angry at the people running around in circles saying “I knew him best” or “I was the only one he really trusted”, angry at all of them for squandering what I thought of as brilliant futures that would make the world feel to me like a place worth living? Or maybe I was just mad at myself because he was dead, and one time I had a chance to pick him up, dust him off and let him know that there was a person who cared about how much pain he was in and I didn’t do it.
If I ever run into him in a dream again, I hope I remember to apologise.
Night all. Sweet dreams.
C

On a night we won’t remember - Montgomery de la cruz (part 2/?)

<< Part 1 I Part 3 >>

Enjoy it, I worked hard on this one! 

Word count: 989

You were filling your fourth cup when Montgomery was already heading to number six of the evening. I was drunk but Monty, he was on another planet. It seems like he needed it even more than you did. You didn’t think he would be so hurt by seeing you, you thought he was okay. After filling the cups you went back outside and gave Monty his cup. He was drowned in his thoughts when he suddenly asked:

“Do you remember the game you scored 3 goals and the team became champion?” with little hick ups in between. I saw in his eyes he was really drunk and he wouldn’t remember a thing tomorrow so I went with him, down the good old memory lane.

“Of course I do! It was one of the best games I’ve ever played, I still remember my thirth goal in the 81th minute it was a 2-2 tie and I was sprinting from the midfield passing by 2 defenders and kicking the ball in the right upper corner! And after I heard you scream THAT’S MY GIRLLLL! Why do you ask?”

“ I was so proud of you, I’ve always been proud of you. I never understood how the best player of the soccer team could be my girlfriend. I never understood why you even bothered talking to me in the first place, you could have anyone you want and you picked me. You’re honestly the most caring, sweet and loving person I know.”

And with that Montgomery brought up the most delicate subject he could. You stared at Montgomery, you had no idea what you had to answer. Why did he bring this up? The break up was still fresh but he was the one who ended it, you thought he was just done with you that. You thought he got tired of you or something like that and that he just moved on. Your eyes started to fill with tears but you weren’t going to cry in front of him.

“Why don’t you answer me?” he asked

“Because you never told me you felt that way and because I’m drunk my processing goes a little slower okay. “

There was an awkward silence between the two of you. He just gave you a piece of his feelings and you couldn’t answer. You could imagine he felt a little uncomfortable right now. When you look at Monty you see him drowning is his thoughts for the second time tonight, when suddenly he said:

“Let’s get out of here” on a demanding tone while he took my hand “My parents are gone for the week, you know there stupid business thing.”

Monty’s parents were gone 80% of the time. Monty always have been convinced he was an accident, that his parents never wanted a child. They never told him but he always told me it was a feeling he couldn’t explain, it was the way they talked and forget everything by accident about him or something like that.

On the way to Monty’s house and between the drunk stumbles in you felt Monty walking closer and closer to you. When he slowly intertwined his finger with yours. You felt a little weird at first, why all this comforting moves and talking about how proud he was when he didn’t want you in his life anymore. You were so confused.

He opened the front door and you both get in the house. Suddenly Monty turned you around and you felt his lips crash on yours. Only now you realise how much you missed those lips, they were so soft. His kisses were so gentle but so loving at the same time. You felt his hands going from your neck to your butt. You intertwined you fingers with his perfect brown hair. Suddenly Monty pulls back and looks you straight in the eyes.

“This isn’t a good idea, is it?”

“I didn’t know drunk Monty thought about what’s good and what’s bad?” Of course you knew this was the worst idea ever but his lips made you crave for more. You were drunk, you didn’t think straight and you missed him so much.

Monty put a smirk on his face and started kissing you again.

“oh god I missed you so much” he told you between kisses.

Monty missed me? You were probably thinking too much and you should enjoy the moment but he missed me? Why didn’t he tell you?

“That dress makes you even hotter than you already are.” He moaned when he squeezed your butt.

Suddenly Monty started to move the two of you upstairs to his room when you phone started to buzz heavily, it was Justin. You signed at Monty he should already go upstairs.

“(Y/N) where are you? I’ve been searching everywhere for you!”

“Well.. eumh… so it’s kind of a funny story..”

“You’re with Monty aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m at his place.. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow Justin, but it all went so fast but don’t worry about me I’ll take care of myself.” You said in one breath

“Are you sleeping at his place?”

“Justin I think I have to go, but honestly I have no idea what is happening and where I’m going to sleep.”

“Call me if you need a ride home, and be safe babe, don’t let him wreck you a second time.”

“Thanks Justin.”

Monty was already in his room, when you entered you found a shirtless Montgomery resting on his bed looking at you with eyes full of lust, he wanted you badly and he wanted you now. He got up and placed himself behind you, he slowly started to unzip your dress while he kissed your neck. Monty knew your neck was your soft spot, it turned you on in a second.

You knew you were going to regret this in the morning but right now you needed every inch of Monty.

Let me know what you think in the comments! thanks for reading xxx

anonymous asked:

Do you have fanfics with supposedly, deep poetic meanings? Like, I remember this fic I read once where neither of them slept and Phil worked in a Tesco and they fell in love when Dan started visiting tesco in the middle of the night and it was written really beautifully. (sorry if that's vague)

here’s a mini masterlist. i feel like we should just start a tag lmao so if anybody has some more recs just send em in

-Rachel

anonymous asked:

Can you draw Lapis and Peridot? But corrupted?

Hey. Since the fourth prompt this week could involve corruption, I decided I’d wait until today to show you !

For Lapis I just remembered a kind of sea slug (’dragon sea slug) I really like, which also have similar colors as Lapis

For Peridot, I hesitated between something butterfly like, a caterpillar (don’t ask why, I don’t know XD) and finally, a triceratops.

Seems a the dinosaur was fitting a little better so I used it as a model. She still looks a little differents but well, I wanted to change it a lil’ bit so it wouldn’t be a complete copy of the actual animal.

I also used the night palette again because I love it :d


(oh and @lapidot-anniversary-week / @jenhedgehog )

Donatello In Love (Donnie X Reader)

Rating: PG

Universe: 2016

Authors Note: OK so this started with @dorkyturtleenthusiast posting a headcanon here about donatello quoting shakespeare I was like UMMMMM…. I HAVE to write this. I feel like I also changed my writing style but its BETTER (At least I think so.) Remember my writing is always changing with me, so if you don’t like it now come back a month later and i’m sure i’ll have gotten better. (I hope lol) Anyways I hope you guys like this, if not send me some constructive criticism. Also I could imagine Raphael picking some quotes up from Donnie, so i might write a similar fic for him. 

Summary: Donatello invites you over on a tuesday night, for what? Let’s find out. (I MIGHT write a NSFW part 2, if enough people want one.)

Donatello carefully scanned over his dim, candlelit room, his brown eyes fervently searching for any mistakes or things he might have missed. Red bouquets of roses covered any table or place that could fit them, and rose petals decorated the entire room. He fidgeted with his fingers, repeating a checklist to himself. Roses? Check. Candles? Check. Beautiful girl who loved him? Well he was working on it. He could hear [Y/N]’s voice coming from the living room, and anxiety washed over him. He had spent all day setting up this special night for her, picking wild roses and using bottles he’d found around the city for vases. He had scrubbed them until they looked brand new and shone with the same sparkle that reflected hopefully in his eyes. He just prayed that she wouldn’t think it was too much or even worse; not enough. He felt for [Y/N], they’d only been dating for four months but he could feel something festering in his chest every time he looked at her. He had encountered these feelings the day he met her, he remembered the way his throat had tightened when he saw her, the way his ears purred at the sound of her voice. He had stood before her baffled at the anxiety rising in his chest as she greeted him. Was it really too much to hope that someone like her could love someone like him? Donnie took a deep breath, his plastron heaved up and down with nervousness before he stepped out of his room to search for her. He made his way through the lair, finally finding her talking to his little brother, Michelangelo. The young boisterous turtle, beamed at her, rambling on and on as he tried to impress her. Donatello watched her expression as it changed and shifted with Mikey’s chatter, her eyes glued to him, dancing with his words. Her hair glowed around the edges of her face and stretched down to her shoulders, making her light up like an angel. Donatello’s throat tightened at the thought of showing [Y/N] his creation. He took another deep breath, attempting to calm himself down, grabbing her attention instead. She looked at him and smiled, only ramping up Donatello’s heart into a violent jack hammering pace. 

“Hey.” She greeted him. He scanned her face, memorizing it for the millionth time before he spoke.
“I want you to come look at something.” He said, reaching his hand out for her. He looked into her wide brown eyes and the room became silent and tense, as she gazed back. Mikey stood by, even his usually charismatic personality was put on the back burner, as tension filled the room. He made a face, trying to cover up how awkward he felt.
“Are you guys going to kiss now?” He asked in a soppy lovesick voice, his pastel blue eyes twinkling with mischief. Donatello shot Mikey a sharp look. “Right,” he pointed towards his own room, “I’ll go.” Donatello returned his attention to [Y/N], she took his hand before he could get out a word. He felt his heart jump at the smoothness of her palm against his, her tiny hand intertwined with his over sized one, squeezing it in affection. Donatello swooned, as butterflies took over his stomach. 

“So what’s this special surprise?” She asked, clueless. It was only a Tuesday so she was surprised that he had made plans at all for them that night. He bit his bottom lip nervously. 

“You’ll see.” His heart raced with anticipation, as they approached his door, “Alright now close your eyes.” Donnie instructed. [Y/N] squealed joyously before closing her eyes. 

 “Donnie, what is it?” She asked, reaching out her hands in front of her as he guided her through the doorway. She stood in the middle of the room waiting for Donnie’s orders. He stared at her for a second, fearful of what her reaction might be before he let her open her eyes.

“Open them and see.” He said, stepping back towards the roses. She opened her eyes, looking around at the room in awe. Her mouth dropped open, and she quickly threw her hand over it. Her brown eyes sparkled as tears accumulated in her scleras. Her silence threw him off, he watched tears well in her eyes and took it as a bad sign. “Did I do something wrong my goddess?” He rushed to her side to comfort her.

“No, Donnie I just-” tears slipped out from her eyes and she fanned herself in an effort to make them disappear. “This is amazing.” Solace flooded his body as his lungs exhaled a sigh of relief. He took her hands in his, clutching them against his plastron and gazed, lovingly, into her eyes. “How could anything I ever do compare to this?” Donatello let out a small chuckle.

“Hear my soul speak,” he spoke firmly, making sure that his words would forever be embedded into her heart. “The very instant that I saw you did my heart fly to your service, there resides To make me slave to it, and for your sake Am I this patient log-man.” A tear slipped down her cheek,

“Donn-” He pressed a single finger against her lips.

“Silent my love,” He implored. “I will follow thee and make a heaven of hell to die upon the hand I love so well.” She melted into his sentences, pressing herself against his body, helpless as words poured out of his soul. He could feel his heart thumping, as his words frantically escaped him. He needed her to know how he felt inside, that all consuming feeling that plagued his every thought. “Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.” He stopped, abruptly. “I- am winged Cupid painted blind.” He took a deep breath, finally as satisfied as he could be with what he had said. She was speechless, quivering from his testimonial. [Y/N] could hear her heart pounding in her ears, blood rushed to her chest and she felt her body become weightless.

“I love you.” She managed. It seemed as if those were the only words she could ever say that might slightly compare to anything Donatello had done for her. Donnie’s eyes widened, his brain going off in a million different directions at once, as if she had ignited a bundle of fireworks with her fiery words of passion.

“You love me?” He asked. “She loves me!” He whispered to himself, a small smile creeping onto his face. He was suddenly expressionless before he turned to [Y/N] with a determined look. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He stated, as if he were reciting a statistic. She glanced down, shyly, taken aback by his forwardness. 

 "Please do.“ She begged, encouragingly. Her ears warmed up, as the anticipation of his lips reverberated throughout her body. Donatello watched her eyes for any sign of remorse or hesitation as he neared her face, afraid that she would suddenly reject him. Her hands were still tightly pressed against his chest and she could feel the way his heart raced and hammered with a million feelings at once. Donnie could barely register the small pulse coming from her fingertips, beating fast yet softly. It was enough to reassure him and he barreled forward, crashing his lips against hers, desperate to quench some sort of thirst from deep inside him. Her mouth quickly latched onto his, frantically kissing him with as much emotion as she could muster. Her tongue was soft yet protruding as she used it to explore his mouth. Donatello surrendered completely to her, allowing [Y/N] to wander the farthest corners of his cavern, gently pushing against her more forceful tongue. He could feel passion rising in his throat, desperate to convey his attraction to her. Donnie guided her small hand onto his shoulder, cherishing the warmth she brought with her every touch. He strained to pry himself away from her lips. 

“I love you too.” He gasped. She looked at the way his eyes bore into her soul, with loving intesity, and she knew that all that mattered in the world right now was her and Donatello. 

anonymous asked:

i woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night because I remembered how teru had like 500 gfs in his asshole phase but post-mob he just? stops? Dating??? like what happened, HOW MANY GIRLS DID HE BREAK UP WITH AFTER MEETING MOB

after meeting mob he commits himself to a life of celibacy until mob gets a significant other or they become significant others 2 each other

i just remembered that one of the dreams that i had last night was that it was like the 70s or smth and i met young obama and we went on a date i think

anonymous asked:

all i can think about is riding harry in a car Like...fuck

Fuck.

I think it would be after Harry teased you all day, and when you’d be at dinner with your friends, you’d have enough (reminds me of a Harry night ask I did a while back, but I can’t remember the name).

He wouldn’t even get his jeans completely off, they’d get tangled at his knees and your dress would get lifted up. Lips like glued together, you’d start grinding your hips, soft whimpers travelling into your mouth.

Harry’s hand are on your hips guiding you, pushing you down on him, wanting you to take every single inch.

“Fucking shit.” You curse under your breath, your head tipping back, giving Harry access to the supple skin on your neck. He sucks that sweet spot, that you love so much.

Tastes so sweet, angel. Wanna cum fo’ me? Huh?“

Some quick wednesday night sketches of myself… My girlfriend walked in and said “wow you’re really taking selfies to a whole new level huh” (I’m practicing for my comics, I promise!)

I used to hate drawing self-portraits, but looking back now, I think it was mostly that I didn’t like to draw myself as a “boy”. I remember taking a painting class in college where we had to do huge self portraits, and I really struggled to will myself to create this massive monument to my beardy boy face.

anonymous asked:

I'm here for all your sidgeno cuddling needs!! In the conjuring au the demon would try to break sid by targeting his vulnerabilities, which for him is G. So in Death House they're looking for sid's necklace when it possesses Geno and possessed!G starts babbling shit like "You really thought that I could ever love someone like you? Your bullies were right, I should've believed them" to a stunned Sid but after they escape G can't remember anything but Sid is still Shook (1/2)

and G is just heartbroken when Sid explains what happened so he spends the night with Sid, who’s still shaking, tightly wrapped up in his arms while whispering affirmations of his love in his hair and kissing his tearstained cheeks. And Sid just buries himself in G’s chest, embarrassed and ashamed bc not only did the demon bring back terrible memories about his past and his insecurities about G’s love for him that he’ll never say out loud, but because for a second Sid believed it. (2/2)

-

oh noOOOO im imaginig this awful scene where geno is cuddling sid and he’s kissing sid’s hair as he says “I love you” again and again, but sid kind of just makes a noise and turns around to sleep. And Geno notices that every time he tells Sid “I love you,” Sid never really says it back anymore. When Geno finally corners Sid to have a conversation about it, Sid admits that he’s still thinking about what the demon said and he’s irrationally worried that Geno won’t love him anymore if he says it back, and Geno is so heartbroken when he gathers Sidney in his arms. 

i had a dream last night that it was like the 90s & my parents looked like how they did in the 90s but my brother & i were the same age we r now & i was watching some scary ass show on tv & its still fucking me up how scary it was but i Cant Fucking remember what actually was happening on the screen i just know it was so scary i had to cover my face ,,,, also had a dream that i made an omelet & it kept un-cooking itself while i tried to put it on a plate

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Happy finale day lovelies!

@griffinnblake @rosymamacita @skruprotocol @the100ismyshadeofgold @bellbearblake @ginalou16 @merdok1993 @lenona7 @ whoever I’m going to kick myself for not remembering 😜because I’m always on mobile

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‘Wonder If’ English Lyrics

Are you still the same as before?
Are you still the way I remember you?
If I held onto you back then
Would you still be looking at me
With those loving eyes like back then?
Are you still the same as before?
Are you still the way I remember you?
If I held onto you back then
Would you still be looking at me
With those loving eyes like back then?

The night air is pretty cold
I’m glad you like staying home
Well, maybe you’re not like that anymore
If not, then please dress warmly
I don’t worry ’bout you
I’m not worrying, I just know you so well
Just think of this as nagging
That way, I don’t seem pathetic
I’m just curious
Don’t get me wrong

Are you still the same as before?
Are you still the way I remember you?
If I held onto you back then
Would you still be looking at me
With those loving eyes like back then?

Are you still the same as before?
Are you still the way I remember you?
If I held onto you back then
Would you still be looking at me
With those loving eyes like back then?
Nothing can change me
How are you doing without me right now?
Honestly, when I’m not by your side
I want you to act like someone else

I don’t want you to be the same
When you come back to my arms some day
Then I’ll give your true self back
Until then, I hope you’re hiding yourself
Are you still the same as before?
Are you still the way I remember you?
If I held onto you back then
Would you still be looking at me
With those loving eyes like back then?

Are you still the same as before?
Are you still the way I remember you?
If I held onto you back then
Would you still be looking at me
With those loving eyes like back then?