come back you idiots


*Harry’s first kiss as seen by Lily and James*

James: She stayed back!

Lily: Calm down James

James: No.. but.. she.. she stayed back with Harry.

Lily: *nodding* I am aware, it may be nothing.

James: He has been swooning over her for months now, this is something.

Cedric: The- uh- I’m just gonna go check on my father. *leaves*

Lily: *scolding* You idiot.

James: Cedric come back, she’s talking about you.

Cedric: *stops on his tracks and listens* She was always a bit too emotional for her own good, it must be hard on her.

Lily: It is and if you don’t want to stay we understand. 

Cedric: It was never that serious with her you know dating and all, I liked her very much but it hadn’t been that long when I- you know. 

Lily: Still, it must be hard for you, too. Go check on your father dear.

Cedric: *smiling* Thanks, Lily.

James: *whispering* Lily!

Lily: What?!

James: *excited* Mistletoe!!

Lily: What the bloody hell is a nargle?

James: Do you remember that Scamander kid in Hufflepuff son of Newt Scamander the writer of–

Lily: *eye-roll* I know who Newt Scamander is Jamie

James: He talked about those th– THEY ARE KISSING OH MERLIN

Lily: The exact same reaction as Sirius honestly you two are incredible.

James: Shush Evans, my boy is having his first kiss

Lily: And we are watching, only if he knew.. He would probably hate us.

James: *grabby hands* Hands Harry haaands!

Lily: *teasing* Like you didn’t stand still when I first kissed you, I had to stand on my tiptoes because you wouldn’t even lean in!

*Harry’s back to common room as Lily and James have a discussion about their first kiss*

Lily: Why isn’t he speaking?

James: He just had his first kiss ever???

Lily: And?

James: He’s in a state of shock Lils.

Lily: I wouldn’t have shut up.

James: People are different, Sirius didn’t shut up for an hour after Remus kissed him.

Lily: *laughing* Ronald is you when they kissed though, look at him cheering.

James: Why is Hermione treating this like a Arithmancy essay?

Lily: She’s a highly logical girl, probably doesn’t think there’s much to it really.

James: If Cho can feel all of that at the same time and still stay alive, someone give this girl a medal.

*Just because you’ve got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn’t mean we all have* 

Lily: Yes Hermione! YES. I mean why doesn’t Harry fancy her?

James: Don’t be ridiculous Hermione likes Ron.

Lily: What?

James: Well now we know where Harry got his obliviousness. Don’t you remember the Yule Ball?

Lily: I do but they are so different.

James: *raises and eyebrow* Evans. Your argument is invalid because you married me.

Lily: You are right. I just hope he has the decency to ask her on a date.

James: He will, don’t worry. 

Lily: *skeptical* It took you months to ask me out.

James: *sarcastically* Could it be, I’m just gonna have a wild guess, because I was afraid you would hex me?

Lily: Shut up Potter.

James: You say that every time I am right.

Lily: *mortifying stares*

James: Alright, alright.

anonymous asked:

Yuri being lowkey sweet is killing me pls stop


  • yuri being mila’s go-to comfort person whenever her heart gets broken by her on/off hockey player boyfriend
  • he already has a Comfort Mila Kit which includes nail polish (milas good at nail art and he lets her experiment w/ him), 80′s movies, microwave popcorn and lots of chocolate
  • one day mila’s not in her best form during practice. she isnt landing anything for shit and her face is just… sad and lost and it hurts yuri more than he’ll ever admit
  • he asks her whats going on and she admits she broke up with her boyfriend for good
  • ‘what happened this time?’
  • ‘he cheated on me.’
  • and. oh man. was yuri seeing fucking RED
  • but for once he calms tf down and focuses on mila bc he doesnt want her feeling more upset than she already is
  • he asks yakov if mila can take the rest of the day off and he agrees bc he too can see how low mila is rn
  • he tells her to go to his house instead of her own bc nikolai already sees her as another grandchild anyway
  • when he gets home they move to his bedroom and yuri cant even bring out his Comfort Mila Kit bc she spends the rest of the night crying her eyes out
  • it kills him to see her like this, someone whos so strong to come so undone bc of some fuckboy who doesnt deserve being in her presence
  • hes glad he managed to contain his anger for once, bc instead of just running him over with his skates, he comes up with a much better idea
  • he remembers everything mila has told him about her relationship with this guy - the place where they confessed, their first date place, the restaurant where they spent their first anniversary
  • he steals his house keys from mila and hopes that the asshole remembers them just as well
  • and its totally not bc he stole his laptop, tv, credit cards and gaming consoles and put them in those significant places. not at all
  • and if they get stolen before the ex gets to them well thats not his fault lol

  • when he figures out that mila and sara like each other but havent acted out on their feelings yet, he pulls sara aside
  • tells her to get her shit together and just tell mila how she feels about her
  • and if she ever, EVER, breaks her heart she’ll have to answer to him
  • (also dont tell the old hag i did this seriously)
  • sara tells her anyway, when they finally get together, and mila just grins bc she just. loves yuri s o m u c h
  • because theyve gone past being friends, she thinks. theyre siblings in everything but blood, always looking out for each other and being each others rock
  • she’ll make it up to him for everything he’s done for her someday. she’ll start by telling otabek that she knows abt his giant crush on him and he better toughen the fuck up and tell him already before they both combust

anonymous asked:

So I was playing Mercy once in quick play, and I was actually using the mic. We have one tank, Reinhardt, who is an absolute fucking idiot. He keeps trying to flank. REINHARDT FLANKING WTF. So I'm obviously getting killed a lot and people are hitting the I need healing like no tomorrow, so I say "Reinhardt, come back I need protection". You know what this idiot says? "You're Mercy, she's the best healer at defending herself", yeah cuz *thats* what Mercy is known for, being able to deal damage


“I’ve always felt as though I was destined to become a Huntress - to protect the world… and it’s become increasingly clear to me that my feelings were right. But… I don’t know if I can do it.”

Imagine chasing Dean

after he gets a sugar rush off Halloween candy

Originally posted by prowrestlingnow



“God damn it, Dean! Come back here!” you screeched as you chased the laughing idiot down. You made the mistake of giving him your share of candy and well…

Let’s just say you owe Roman a new tv…

“Why did you give him all that candy!?” Seth demanded as he tried to keep any other valuables out of Dean’s path. The locker room was a mess…

“I didn’t know he’d get this hyper!” you yelled back. “Roman! Quit laughing and help me!”

“Aw no. This is your deal…”


I believe @cleo-moxley-ambrose suggested something to this effect so here it is~!

@hardcorewwetrash @darlingkatrina @flawlessglamazon @heilisk @xxmandarxx @decimaregina @curbstompingbitches @cleo-moxley-ambrose @moxleys-little-masochist @ajleenation99 @ambrose-asylum-ft-mitch @actualamyautopsy @hotspurmadridista @mxltifxndomromanreigns @wwegirl12 @smutwwe @ilovesamizaynn@thetherianthropydaily @themansethrollins @kristiej @welshwitch5 @allthisnheaventoo @alexispoo @amaranthine-reign @silverrawrs @becky-balboa-lynch @screamersdontdance @scarygoodfanfics @cynda-kiwi @heyitstatianita @llowkeys @nickysmum1909

thing-you-do-with-that-thing  asked:

Dude what did you aks for? I have been away for the day and come back to more idiot anons! Don't let them get you down boo. But seriously tell me what was the request thingy?

I know dude. I was kinda hurt by it at first but then got over it real quick. It was basically a request for a little Dean drabble, imagine or what have you because I have a headache and I saw this gifset and drooled and was in dire need of a drabble. That was basically it…


the GazettE PVs 6/ :
関東土下座組合 (Kantou dogeza kumiai)

Heneral Luna be like
  • Soldier: *in the trenches, tries to see where Americans are*
  • Soldier: *head explodes from canon fire*
  • Rusca: *face covered in brains* FUCK
  • --
  • Soldier son of a rich man: *runs away mid-battle*
  • Heneral Luna: COME BACK HERE YOU IDIOT!!! What the fuck these girls have bigger balls than that coward
  • Two female soldiers in the trenches: *salute Heneral Luna and laugh raucously mid-battle*
  • --
  • Heneral Luna: *playing guitar to the moon* *somebody knocks on the door and interrupts him*
  • Heneral Luna: WHO THE FUCK WOULD KNOCK AT THIS HOUR--oh hi mom
  • --
  • --
  • Other commanding officer: Uh sir do you know how to speak English
  • Heneral Luna: I got this
  • Heneral Luna: *speaks French*
  • Heneral Luna: We... are... sequestering this. This train.
  • Heneral Luna: I've run out of English just arrest this guy already
  • --
  • Heneral Luna: I wanna mess with this guy let's shoot into the window
  • Heneral Luna: Who wants to prove your love for this country by shooting into a window
Do Not Google

Originally posted by stayclassysupernatural

Pairing: JensenxReader, past Jaredxreader
Word count: 613

House Mates masterlist

When Jensen left to meet up with Jared, you were home alone. A rarity at this point. You had given in and agreed to the girl’s night. Something you were still extremely iffy about. Not only had you at one point been in a relationship with Jared, but you had a minor crush on Jensen. What made you think going out for drinks with the women in their lives was a good idea? And, you had no clue about any of their lives.

Biting your lip, you went and pulled out your laptop. Google. That would save you. Not a lot, just enough that you didn’t come across as a completely unsocial idiot. Sitting back, you had your feet up on the coffee table.

Typing in ‘Jensen Ackles’ into the search bar, it was full in seconds. First, you looked through ‘images’. They started off simple enough. The usual couples photos, press events, the like. And then you’d come across fanart. Not even modest fan art. Seeing one that made you blush every shade and pink and red humanly possible, you quickly clicked back to the links for articles.

Taking a deep breath, you calmed yourself and started skimming the basic articles. From what you could tell, he was a nice guy all around, even with fans. Some celebrities could be cold, or mean to fans. He seemed to actually care about them. Finding what looked like just another article, you clicked it.

Your laptop nearly flew off your lap. It was not an article at all, but fanfiction. With a very detailed piece of artwork at the top. You gathered it was another member of the cast of Supernatural.

Deciding that was enough Jensen for one day (hell, enough for a very long time…people had vivid imaginations), you moved on. Next, you typed ‘Jared Padalecki’, and hit enter. Having learned your lesson from Jensen, you were much more careful this time around. Not that it mattered, you’d seen all of him before. Shaking your head, you hoped that thought didn’t pop into your head while you were sitting with his wife that night!

Once you’d seen one that was getting into the territory of ‘NSFW’ (how low did people think his hip bones went?), you moved on to articles. You opted to stay away from ‘tumblr’, as that’s where you’d seen that fanfic. Finding something that mentioned Sam and Dean, you clicked it, hoping that would sum them up.

You regretted that instantly. You made a face, shaking your head. “Oh god…” Quickly shutting the laptop, you set it off to the side. “They’re brothers!” You cringed.

Getting up, you froze when you saw Jensen walking in the front door. How long had you been searching?! He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. “You okay?” He asked.

“Uh…yeah. I’m gonna go…wash my hair…” You managed and ran upstairs. All you had to do was mentally bleach those images from your head, right?

Jensen stared up the stairs, wondering what the hell got into you. Moving to the living room, he flopped onto the couch and grabbed your laptop. He figured he’d try to find something that all the kids would enjoy. His eyebrows went up when he saw that you hadn’t shut down the internet when you shut the laptop.

Curious, he went and looked at your history. He couldn’t help but crack up laughing. He knew that you weren’t out looking for that stuff on purpose, but that was probably one hell of a shock. No wonder you couldn’t look at him!

Grabbing his phone, he called Jared. “Oh, man…You won’t believe this…” He managed through his laughter.

Keep reading

Spamano Proposal

Antonio: You know, Lovi I don’t really like your name.

Lovino: What the hell you bastard! Whats wrong with my name!?

Antonio: Mainly your last name, it sucks.


Antonio: *Serious expression* It doesn’t suit you. You should change it.

Lovino: CHANGE IT- *About to blow a fuse*

Antonio: *Walks off* To Carrideo.

Lovino: *Blushing madly*





Kidnapping AU: A Summary

Butterfly Bog: We hate love. No more love. Never again.

Butterfly Bog: *get married*

Butterfly Bog: It’s a strategic alliance!

Butterfly Bog: *flirt intensely*

Bog: Are we … are we flirting? *panics* ABORT ABORT TOO HIDEOUS TO LOVE GOODBYE

Marianne: … come back here, you idiot!

Listen - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Originally posted by sssmcdlove

Words: 1060
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: swearing
Requested by anon
May I request a Bucky x reader inspired by "What part of don’t come back for me didn’t you understand, you idiot?” Answered with-“I’m not as smart as I look” please? If you have the time :)
Authors Note: I hope the idea I put behind it worked :) I just kinda, started writing, and this is what happened. I actually really like it.


"Bucky,” You told him, trying to get his attention.

“I’ll get you out of this!” Bucky yelled.

“No, you can’t.” You told him, but he didn’t look at you. “Bucky, go.”

“I can’t just leave you here!” Bucky argued.

“You have to. I’ll be fine, I promise.” You grabbed his arm.


“Go to the quinjet. Get back to the facility. Don’t come back for me.” You told him.

As you and Bucky were running in the forest from Hydra agents, you fell into a trap- a hole in the ground. How did you even manage to fall for that? But alas, there was no way to get you out. At least, not with Bucky around.

“But, I can’t leave you.”

“Go.” You told him, “I’ll be okay.”

“Alright…” Bucky said, and slowly let go of your hand.

Bucky walked away. You knew that agents would be checking traps soon, and you came go with two solutions.

One) Let the agents get you and try to kill them all off and escape.

Two) Try to conjure up your, hidden, enhancement.

Keep reading

You’re An Idiot

imagine him coming back to you after the break up with you because he sees that he can’t breathe without you.

this wasn’t a request but i was feeling my chronic depression coming along with my anxiety and i just needed to vent. sorry if i’m a little rusty, not on my game today. send me requests before sunday ends (june 5th u.s. e.s.t.)

pairing: avenger x reader (this was written with bucky in mind, but i dont think i ever mention his name so i guess it could be anyone)

word count: 1999 (omg)

warnings: none; but of once, there’s only one curse word i think. a first.

There are still traces of him, like little trails that lead me back to brightly lit memories of us. Sometimes I find his socks in the bottom of a drawer, a flannel in the back of my closet, his razors in my bathroom cabinet, or his pictures on my phone. I thought I’d gotten rid of any evidence that would show that we ever dated. And when it got really hard, like today, I thought I could pick up his scent on the sheets.

Biting my lips, I start making some tea. I should be having dinner, but I haven’t been able to put any food inside of me. So, tea would have to do. I blankly listen to the kettle shriek, letting the sound swallow my empty body. It was during moments like these that thoughts of him came into my mind. What is he doing right now? Is he out with friends, or another girl? What is he wearing? Is he hurting like I am, or more? How is he getting rid of traces of me? Does he cry or curse at the thought of me? Is he okay?

I’m not out with my friends, and I haven’t been out with them in so long. I’m scared that we will bump into each other. I’m wearing his old band t-shirt. It still smells like him, even though I’ve washed it countless times. I’m hurting; I’m hurting so much that it’s numbed to a dull, echoing pain. I’ve gotten rid of as much of him as I could. Still I cry, curse, and die a little at the thought of him…I’m not okay.

Just when I was about to collapse with grief, my phone rings. I pull myself together and reach into my pocket. Wanda. I pick up, faking a casual attitude.

“Hey Wanda! What’s up?” I chirp cheerfully—Maybe too cheerfully, because she becomes suspicious. 

“(Y/n), are you okay?” she asks slowly.

I nod vigorously as I answer, “Of course, I am.”

Silence. Then she says, “Well, I just wanted to see if you want to come out with me and Nat. We’re going to the bar that you like.” I can hear her desperation. She knows that I’ve broken up with him and that I’ve been having a hard time adjusting. But I can’t go out today. It’s just extra hard today.

“No, I’m busy…helping my mom with something.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she says with a disappointed sigh. “Maybe next time?”

I walk to the stove and turn off the burner. “Yeah, next time,” I reply absentmindedly. “Have fun, okay? I’ll talk to you soon.” Not even hearing her goodbye, I end the call. Pouring myself some green tea, I sit down on the leather armchair in front of the window. The pitter-patter of the rain against the window sill resonates in me. It rained on our first date, so much so that he had to use his jacket as an umbrella for me. He didn’t want me getting wet. I take a long sip, and burn my tongue.

“Shit,” I spit. I spill some on my shirt, his shirt. A memory stirs: I spilled my food on him on the third date. Damn it. I hate thinking of him. I hate that everything, literally everything, reminds me of him. His stupid smile and his stupid eyes. What I hate most is how he’d gaze at me. With so much focus, and attention. Love and affection…like I was a piece of art.

I put the tea mug on the side table, and lift my legs up onto the seat. I wrap myself with a blanket, his favorite one, and bring my hands up to my face. And the cries invade. The sobs are too loud to cover, but I cover my mouth anyway. I don’t want anyone to hear me. I don’t want to hear it myself, because if I do hear it, it’ll mean that I still love him. After all that anger and effort to forget him, I can’t be blubbering over his dumb ass. But I am, I’m crying for him and I’m crying because of him. The sounds spill out of me like some waterfall. The tears run down my face, racing each other. And the sky cries for me too.

My throat is sore and burning, because of my attempts at choking and swallowing the howls. My eyes are swollen and red after bawling for an hour. My body hurts, aches for him. Should I call him? Should I let him know what he’s done to me? Should I let him know that I’m broken? No. I have to have some pride. But I don’t.

So I walk up to get my phone. I read his phone number to myself. I still have it memorized: another thing that I couldn’t get rid of. I dial the number, but my finger hovers above the scary, green button. I hold my breath, speculating and waiting to see what I do. But before I have a chance to do anything, the door bell rings. Once, and once more. I walk quietly towards the door. No one usually sees me at this hour, considering it’s also a Friday night. So who could it be? I hesitate. It could be him. If it’s him, what would I do? The person knocks on my door, three simple knocks.

“(Y/n)? Are you home?” asks the familiar voice. My ears welcome his vibrations, and I’m tempted to fling open the door. “I have to talk to you.” I almost cry at his words. Not because it’s what I want to hear him say, but because I missed his voice. I missed him talking to me.

I toss aside my blanket, and walk towards the door. He must’ve heard me because he stops pacing. He’s waiting. He’s holding his breath. So am I.

I place my fingers on the door knob and twist it gingerly. The door squeaks open, but I’m not looking at him. I’m looking down at his feet. He’s wearing his sneakers I bought him. A gasp almost escapes my mouth. I can’t believe he still has them. With the door now wide open, our bodies are in front of each other for the first time in four months. I can’t tell if that’s a long or short time. But it’s felt like an eon. I muster up the courage to look at his face. He still has his unkempt hair, his stubble, and the same mesmerizing eyes that I could drown in.

“It’s been a long time,” I say quietly, looking directly into his eyes. I don’t falter; I’ve got too much pride to show weakness.

“Yeah, it has.” That’s all he says. I didn’t expect him to say more.

“Come in,” I step aside to let him walk in. I take a seat in the armchair in front of the window, and he sits on the couch. We’re as far away from each other as possible. But, I crave his touch. Now that he’s in front of me, I want to feel his skin on mine, now more than ever. But all I feel is the tense silence.

Again, I’m the one to initiate. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

As if shaken from his thoughts, he looks up at me with surprised eyes. “Right.” He rubs his face with his hand, and says, “I know I was the one who suggested that we take a break–”

“You mean ‘break up’, not ‘take a break’,” I interrupt coldly.

“I was the one who suggested that we break up,” he corrects, looking at me carefully before he continues. But I only stare out the window. “There’s no other way to say this, but…” I glare at him, as if daring him to continue. “I missed you.”

I don’t react. My exterior is frozen and unfeeling. But inside, I’m weeping—weeping with joy and sadness. He had missed me; he was just as lost without me as I was without him. I can feel my tall wall of pride crumbling at his words.

“I can’t live without you. I thought I could, and I thought I was doing both of us a favor, but I was wrong. The moment I wake up, I think about you. I expect you to be sleeping next to me. All I can see is your peaceful face, your beautiful face next to me. And whenever I get a call, I hope that it’s you. I want it to be your voice at the other end of the call. Every time I eat, I wonder if you’re eating too and I worry that you’re not eating enough. When I’m broken and crying, I hope that you’re not crying. I don’t want you to cry over me, because of me. I’m not worth crying over. I pray every single fucking night that you’re not crying yourself to sleep, or hurting yourself because of what I said to you that night. I regret everything I did and said that night. But I did it because I thought…I thought you’d be better off without me, I’m not good enough to have someone like you. I’m really not. After all the things I’ve done, I don’t want someone so good like you to be anywhere near me. But I can’t do it. You’re my life line, (Y/n). I can’t function without you.” He ends with a sigh and looks at me, hoping for a reaction, anything.

I swallow my sob, but I can’t hold back the tears. One by one, they drip down the cheeks and down to my chin. And I let them. I’ve been holding them in too long. I bite the inside of my cheek and get up on my feet. I sit down next to him on the couch and run my hand through his hair. It’s still just as soft as I remember. I search his face, not knowing where to look, but his eyes anchor me. They steady my nervous and scared breathing.

“You’re an idiot,” I say with a weak laugh, putting my hand on his cheek.

He smiles at my response, and nods gently. “I know,” he replies. “That’s why I let you go in the first place.”

I shake my head in disbelief. I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him close. He pulls me in closer, and places his head in the crook of my neck.

“I missed you, you dumb ass,” I say unevenly.

“I missed you too.”

I pull apart from him for a second to look into his blue eyes. We don’t say anything, we just enjoy the fact that we are here together. Back in his embrace, I breathe in deeply, taking in his comforting smell. I feel his warmth, the sound of his breath, and his love.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he comments.

I roll my eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me,” I say with grin. And he does. His lips linger above mine, as if asking permission to continue. But I’m impatient, and I crash mine onto his, craving his touch. It’s just like before. Our lips fall into place, knowing every curve and concave, rediscovering every inch of our skin. At first, he pecks my lips, each peck growing longer and more passionate. Then he travels to my neck, placing a kiss on the spots that he knows I like. Everything comes so easily, like it had, like it should.

He pulls away to take a breath. He looks at me lovingly, my hair disheveled and my cheeks red and my lips plump. Breathless, he runs his hands down my back, giving me shivers. He kisses my forehead, temple, and nose.

“I love you,” he whispers. “So much.”

I scoff, “I know, you idiot.” I lick my lips and just hold him tight and match my breathing with his. “Me too.”

tags: @sinnamon-barnes [message/ask me if you’d like to be tagged also :P]