directed to you

When you’re a kid, you color with reckless abandon. You color outside the lines. You color however you feel. Blue elephants, purple trees, red bears, green oceans - it’s all good. As you get older, though, everyone tells you to stay inside the lines, to color everything just like you see it. You end up painting by numbers, whether you actually paint or whether you write or sing or act or direct. I think you should create what you feel. Create outside the lines. I want to watch green oceans and red bears. I’d love to listen to purple trees. And I long to read blue elephants.

My lips haven’t stopped talking about you since you first kissed me. My eyes haven’t stopped looking in your direction since you first came into view. My hands haven’t stopped aching to be held by yours since you first touched me. And my heart hasn’t stopped beating to the sound of your name since you took up residence inside of it
—  April 25th 4:37pm

such great heights — part three

“Oh.” Harry pressed his lips together. “Was just thinking that maybe we should have a party.”

Kimber raised a brow. “A party?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded. “Like, a proper celebration for you moving in and all.”

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You’re In Love With Him But He Likes Your Best Friend

Masterlist linked in bio 

Harry’s been drinking all night.

It all started off with Savannah, whom he went to Lexi’s Bar with a couple of friends. It was a tradition they all had that carried throughout the past couple of months. Because Friday night meant cheaper alcohol, and Y/n’ s closing shift.

They were all having a good time, Y/n serving them drinks and they all drank their week away. It was just a night of celebrating the end of the week, where stress could be left behind for at least a couple of hours.

Everything was great until Harry got too handsy. It wasn’t his fault, he thinks, they had been talking for months and he had no particular reason to refrain himself from wrapping his arms around Savannah, considering she’s let him do it many times before.

But tonight, she wasn’t going near him, which was a drastic change from her previous attitude with him earlier that night.

So now, he’s stranded at Lexi’s Bar past closing hours, tipsy out of his mind. Savannah left without a word, abandoning him at the bar with no other ride home. 

Jesus, Harry!” Y/n gasps, her hand instinctively reaching for her chest when she makes her way back to the bar. “What the hell are you still doing here?!”

Their friends had left a while ago, only Harry remaining slumped against the bar with an empty glass of Malibu. She wasn’t aware of his stay, in fact, it was her closing shift and the bar had closed twenty minutes ago. Only the slight sound of the radio and the clanging of dishes Y/n was washing could be heard throughout the scene.

He looks like a mix of frustrated and upset, a clear shadow of sadness in his eyes as he looks up at her. He frowns a bit, looking back down at the empty glass that’s fiddling in his hands as he lets out an almost inaudible sigh.

“Do you mind driving me home?” he asks guiltily, “Savannah was my ride but she’s not really speaking to me right now.”

Y/n furrows her eyebrows at the softness of his words, an evident tone of helplessness when he spoke. She nods her head slightly, reaching over to grab his finished drink.

“Gonna wash this real quick,” she mutters, “you can grab your coat, I’ll be right out.”

Harry nods while shooting her a small smile through his frown. He’s always been extremely appreciative of her efforts with him. He knows damn well no other person would be able to treat him the way she does. She put him first, always, and it had always been something Harry never fully understood. She went out of the way for him whenever he needed it most, without the smallest hesitation. And if he needed someone to talk to, even if it was about the horrendous traffic on his way to work, she was always there to listen to him.

He can’t lie, he feels guilty that it’s her closing shift and she’d have to be driving out of her way in order to take him home. But in all honesty, he had nobody else. Savannah left without a word after Harry tried desperately to get her attention, his other friends following shortly after in one car, leaving Harry stranded alone at the bar with Y/n still working. So, really, this was his only option.

When Y/n returns to the front of the bar, she remains silent as she grabs her coat off of the hanger. She looks at him from the corner of her eye, watching as his fingers rub harsh circles against his temples, a gesture he’s always done when he was stressed. He shook his head slightly, shutting his eyes tightly as he fixes the jacket hanging swiftly from his shoulders.

She bites her lip, curious eyes wandering around his slumped frame. Seeing Harry distressed makes her feel upset. Witnessing him at a time of stress was extremely rare, and something about it makes Y/n’s stomach drop. He was always so positive, always making sure the people around him were smiling. He has the type of personality others strive, because he’s so selfless and effortless at everything he does, it’s the part of him Y/n always loved and admired.

“What happened? You okay?”

Harry lets out a frustrated sigh, his nose flaring as he closes his eyes momentarily.

“Savannah’s just so confusing sometimes. I like her a lot, but she’s hard to keep up with. It’s like she’s into me one minute and the next like I’m completely wasting her time, you know? I don’t know what she wants from me anymore.”

Y/n nods, understanding completely what he’s talking about. Savannah often does this to him—to most guys, actually.Because of how different they both are relationship-wise, it’s almost impossible for Harry to adjust to Savannah’s ‘hard to get’ character. Harry prefers to not waste any time when it comes to dating. If he likes someone who reciprocates feelings, he immediately takes action. That’s how he always was with his past girlfriends, taking no time to start a relationship with them.

Savannah, however, loves the game. Being chased amuses her, almost makes her feel as if she’s worth something. Because of her undoubtable beauty and irresistibly charming personality, she always makes the man work for her liking. Her character always made guys frustrated but exposed them to an entirely different relationship. Her hot to cold attitude made men feel intimidated, yet motivated them to catch her. Because, undoubtedly, she’s the ultimate catch no guy could ever ignore.

It had always been that way, too. When Y/n and Savannah both hit puberty, Savannah was the irresistible one. Her figure curved at all the right edges, her tan complexion naturally glowing, and she started to expose herself to new people.

She wasn’t shy of anything. Any opportunity to take on a challenge called Savannah’s name. She was constantly seeking adventure and finding new people to get along with. Which, of course, wasn’t hard at all. Everyone liked Savannah, it was almost impossible not to.

Y/n, however, was the exact opposite. She was beautiful, but not ‘Savannah beautiful.’ She was paler, not a spot of makeup on her face. Her body was a bit more frail than hers, her curves not as extenuated. She was more introverted, as well, only speaking when she felt was necessary. The only way she was able to make friends was through Savannah’s courageous behavior.

And although Savannah and Y/n had an unbreakable bond since middle school, being Savannah’s best friend screwed up Y/n’s love life tremendously. It hurt Y/n a lot throughout her high school years. Being best friends with the most beautiful girl wasn’t easy for her, if anything, it made her feel less about herself. It’s the exact reason why she hasn’t dated in years. Because guys Y/n liked always ended up falling for Savannah.

Which is exactly what’s happening with Harry.

Y/n first met Harry when she began working at Lexi’s. It was her first Friday night shift during the summer. It was her first week after training, so she wasn’t quite used to the busy weekends and late hours, but she didn’t mind it.

She was rearranging glasses at the bar when Harry first walked in. Her breath hitched in her throat when she first saw him enter. She could have sworn her heart had jumped out from her chest in that very moment. He was beautiful, a different kind of beautiful, too. He was so effortless at it—the way he moved and the way he presented himself; he had confidence in himself without flaunting it.

He was wearing tight black jeans with a pink floral see-through button up, flowing loosely from his shoulders. His chest was in great view, as well, the cross hanging from his necklace dangling perfectly between his pecs. His hair was freshly cut, his face freshly shaved and had an aroma of a cologne Y/n wasn’t familiar with. It was unique, though, like him, and all-in-all made him more attractive than she already perceived him to be.

Her eyes went wide when he claimed the barstool in front of her, her actions coming to a halt as her eyes hawked over his every move. She genuinely forgot how to breathe, his physical features overwhelming her in ways she’s never experienced before. The world around her seemed to fade as she admired every part of him she could see.

He was just so breathtaking.

It wasn’t until one of the other bartenders dropped a glass onto the floor that Y/n was pulled out of her trance. She quickly shook her head, slowly coming back in touch with reality. Thankfully, he hadn’t seemed to notice her presence yet.

She shook her head again before working to dry the remaining shot glasses. She just had to make it a couple of hours without completely embarrassing herself in front of him, that’s all she had to do.

Her eyes drifted slightly to him again when he lifted his right leg up against the unoccupied barstool next to him, leaning over before his fingers started working to retie his shoelace.

“The usual.” he spoke, eyes still cast downward.

Y/n looked around behind the counter, checking to see if he was talking to someone else. Considering she had just started working there a week ago and hasn’t served him yet, she was completely clueless as to what he was ordering.


He looked up from his shoes, eyes diverting right into hers as a sense of realization reached his features.

“Oh, I see,” he giggled, “Sorry, love. I wasn’t aware there was a new bartender in town.”

His voice was both raspy and smooth in the most elegant way she’s ever heard. His accent was so incredibly thick she could visually see it by the way his lips moved. And his giggle, with the slight smirk he developed made her heart flutter in her chest.

Y/n nodded, smiling slightly at him.

“Yeah, just started a week ago. Nobody’s ever ordered ‘the usual’ before.” she joked, nervous laughter falling from her lips as she tucked loose pieces of hair behind her ear.

He grinned at her, his cheeks turning a bit peachy. He had to admit, she was gorgeous, and clearly had a great sense of humor. He could tell she was shy, though, by the way she wasn’t confident in her words and the way her cheeks flushed whenever he spoke to her.

“Cute” he muttered ever so slightly, Y/n almost thought she imagined it, “‘The usual,’ at least for me, is a Malibu Bay Breeze. Bit heavier on the cranberry juice, a bit lighter on the pineapple.”

Y/n nodded, muttering a quiet “coming right up” before gathering the ingredients. Harry watched her as she poured it all together, mixing the essential ingredients, admiring her gestures and movements whenever he said something that made her smile.

They talked for hours that night, getting to know each other. Y/n was mesmerized, completely and utterly captivated at how somebody like him could possibly exist. He was everything she’s ever dreamed of—there wasn’t any part of him she didn’t find alluring. This was the only time she’s ever spoken to him, yet she found herself feeling something she’s never felt before.

And the feelings only got stronger with time. Every Friday for four months, Y/n found Harry coming into Lexi’s earlier than he usually did, and every time he’d come she prepared him a Malibu Bay Breeze—heavy on the cranberry, light on the pineapple.

He stayed with her until closing, until the last light went off and the music went down. And after she was off her shift, he took her to the 24-hour movie theater that hardly anybody went to in those early hours of the morning. Instead of watching, however, they spent the entire movie goofing around with popcorn and sharing fond memories of their childhood.

To say Y/n had fallen hard for Harry was an understatement. She was completely and unconditionally in love with him.

The feeling he had given her never subsided—he never failed to give her a feeling of euphoria whenever he spent his Friday nights with her. And the more he opened up to her, and the more she opened up to him, the more it felt right. He felt right, no part of her doubted that for a second. He captured her heart and she knew there was no way in hell she was ever getting it back.

Savannah even began to notice her shift in mood ever since her Friday night shifts began. It was as if she turned into an entirely different person. She seemed more confident in herself, and Savannah started noticing the softest of smiles illuminating on her face every so often.

Y/n was the happiest she had ever been before, she swore she was on cloud nine. Y/n started to believe nothing could have torn her down. Nothing.

But then, it happened.

Savannah showed up to Lexi’s during Y/n’s regular Friday night shift. It was a little past midnight, arriving back from her aunt’s wedding—which Y/n would have attended if she didn’t need the money (and if it wasn’t during her shift Harry was a frequent customer in).

She ran in with a long eggplant purple dress, which had a long slit along the leg. Her hair curled in perfect waves that fell loosely down her shoulders, her makeup illuminating and extenuating her flawless features.

“Y/n!” She squealed, scurrying her way to the bar while nearly tripping over her six-inch heels.

Y/n saw Harry’s eyes widen at the sight of her. Of course she visited her when Harry’s here, and of course, she visited when she looked as beautiful as ever. Y/n knew the second Savannah walked in that it was over, every possibility of her and Harry building up to a relationship has been knocked down to the ground.

Y/n closed her eyes momentarily, because she started to feel every part of her heartbreak, and it was the most painful feeling she’s ever felt. Harry’s only seen Savannah for a couple of seconds and he was already looking at her in a way he never has with Y/n.

She gritted her teeth harshly, because how did she think this wouldn’t happen? This was always how it ended, and even if Harry ever liked Y/n enough to start a relationship with her, she wouldn’t be able to hide him from Savannah forever.

“Guess what!” she yelled once she found her way to the bar, leaning against it so she was as close as possible to Y/n.

“What?” Y/n smiled weakly, unable to rid the aching in her chest.

“The photographer at the wedding asked me to be a model for his pictures! And not only that, but he just started working for Top Shop, said he could talk to some people for me to make this work! Can you believe it?! Savannah Turk, next top model! Gosh, I’m so excited!”

Y/n smiled widely. It was always Savannah’s dream to become a model, and she could definitely pull it off. In all honesty, she was shocked she wasn’t one already.

“That’s great, Savannah!” Y/n gasped, “I can’t believe this! I’m so happy for you!”

They both reached over to hug each other, Savannah jumping up and down as small squeals fall from her lips. Once they let go, Y/n is quick to fix up Savannah’s favorite drink as she claims the barstool next to Harry.

Harry’s heart began to race as she scooted closer to him. She was completely breathtaking. He had never seen someone like her before, every part of her intrigued him. She drew him in, and there was no way in hell there was any chance of going back.

“I’m Harry, by the way.”

Savannah let out a slight “push” as she waved her hand in the air.

“I know, Y/n doesn’t shut up about you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened, but quickly refrained against her shocked expression as she let out a nervous laugh. God, they couldn’t know about her feelings, because she hadn’t told anybody about how she felt about Harry and certainly wanted to avoid talking about it while he’s practically gawking over Savannah.

Harry looked up at Y/n with a playful smirk resting perfectly on his face.

“Well, who else is going to get me through my Friday night shifts?” Y/n laughed.

Harry lifted his drink up to her, eyebrows lifting as he smirked at her, “And who else is going to get me through my loneliness, eh?”


Savannah’s eyebrows lifted, a wide grin on her face as she looked over to Harry. And by God, he surely was a sight to see.

“Oh, so ‘Friday night shift boy’ is lonely? Don’t know why Y/n hasn’t taken advantage of that yet,” Savannah smirked, “I know I would have.”

Y/n nods again, mustering up a sympathetic smile to him. She doesn’t want any part of Savannah’s games to make him feel bad about himself. None of what he’s feeling is his fault, and every atom in her body aches for him to know that.

“I’m sorry, Harry” she whispers, “I know how much that can hurt, you don’t deserve it.”

He gives her a soft smile, but it falls just as quickly as it spreads. His gaze falls to the floor, eyebrows furrowing as he shakes his head softly.

“I just can’t keep doing this with her.”

His soft and Bambi eyes look up at her in sorrow, a frown stretched on his lips at the strain his heart has endured.

“I don’t know what more I can do, Y/n.”

And as selfish as it sounds, the first thought that comes to her mind after the hopeless words leave Harry’s mouth is you can love me back.

Because, God, if he loved her, she wouldn’t keep him waiting. She wouldn’t keep him under the impression that he’s not good enough. No, Harry’s fulfilled every part of her wildest dreams, and she would never let a day go by without making him feel the way he deserves—loved.

Despite her selfish thoughts that she desperately wishes she could say to him, she pushes them all aside. Harry needs her, he needs her to be the friend that will be there for him in the latest hours of the night. He needs her shoulder to lean on, and she can’t deny the chance to help him through this and make him feel better.

She doesn’t respond to him, only slinging her bag around her shoulder and pointing her head toward the exit doors.

“We can talk about this later, yeah? Lets just get you home first.”

The ride to his house was silent, mainly consisting of the soft tune on the radio and Y/n’s hushed voice singing along. With the alcohol still buzzing inside Harry’s head, he didn’t mind the silence they shared. It was comfortable because Harry wasn’t in the mood to discuss his anticlimactic relationship with Savannah. He just needed someone to listen to him, to be there for him, and Y/n was his favorite company.

When they arrive at his house, Y/n is basically carrying Harry to his door.

“Yeah, alright, you—that’s right, you’re good” she huffs, the weight of his body making it a struggle for her to walk.

He isn’t drunk enough for her to completely guide him, but he is stumbling a bit and does find himself tripping over his own two feet a couple of times.  

Y/n giggles, shaking her head as she walks him through his front door. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have made you that many drinks. Thank God you weren’t planning on driving, that would have been a mess.”

Harry doesn’t have much time to respond before she sits him down on his couch. She runs her thumb along his forehead softly, wiping away some of the sweat before smiling at him softly.

"Gonna make you some tea, now.”

Harry shakes his head, his hand reaching to grab her wrist.

“Love, you don’t have to,” Harry shakes his head, “you’ve been making everybody’s drinks all night.”

She shrugs, a small smile tugging on her lips.

“I don’t mind. You’re upset, I want to make sure you feel better, alright? I know that Savannah does this to you and I don’t—“ she pauses, closing her eyes softly, “and I don’t want you to keep thinking that this is your fault.”

His heart swells at her words, his large hands reaching out to grip her small ones.

“Would you mind just—just lying down with me for a bit? I don’t want the tea, just need your company right now.”

Y/n frowns slightly, and she isn’t sad because she doesn’t want to be with him. What makes her sad is the intimacy of holding him would give her no chance to escape her feelings. Whenever she feels the heartbreak sneaking back up on her, she always finds a way to distract herself from the pain. Whether it was rearranging her bedroom, organizing the books on her bookshelf, or focusing on her work, there was always a way to escape the pain.

But it’s when she feels him—whether it’s the touch of his hand, or a rub of the shoulder—when she feels his skin ignite her and when she feels the warmth of is body against her, there was no running away from the harsh reality she’s been living in. There is no escape from the thought that she’s in love with someone she can never have because all she feels when she feels him is broken.

And it’s in these moments she finds herself being most selfish. Because he needs her now, holding him, reassuring him that everything will be okay. He’s going through the same feeling she is, and all she can think about is her stupid self and her broken heart, even when he needs her most.

She lays down on his couch first, which Harry finds particularly inviting. He lays with his head face down against her neck, legs tangled in between hers with his arms wrapped around her back. He loves cuddling with her. She’s just so soft, and she feels cozy, especially after he drinks heaps of alcohol. He hasn’t cuddled with her for a while, either, and holding her against him now already makes his shitty night somewhat tolerable.

“Thank you for being with me, Y/n” he mumbles against her collar bone, the fabric of her t-shirt moving against his lips. “And I’m sorry I made you drive me back.”

She giggles softly, her fingers brushing through his messy bed of curls. She feels him relax into her the more she rakes his hair, and he doesn’t hesitate to keep her motions going.

“It’s okay, didn’t have any other plans. Besides, I kind of miss being alone with you sometimes.”

He hums in response, pressing his cheek further into her neck. His eyes shut, his body relaxing to the sound of her heartbeat, which he feels thumping perfectly against his chest.

“S’good to me” he mumbles, “don’t know what I’d do without you, you know.”

Y/n feels her heart skip at the words he spoke against her, her whole body getting an overwhelming sense of despondency.

“Harry, I—“

“I think I’m gonna keep fighting for her” Harry interjects.

His voice is slurring now, his half-asleep daze making his words all jumbled. But he knows what he’s saying, and Y/n knows, too, and her heart plummets. Her throat suddenly begins to choke on cries she wasn’t aware had come so quickly. It’s just another reminder, just another confirmation that Savannah always gets what she wants, even if Y/n wants it more.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna give up on her yet. If I like her, I gotta fight for it, right? She’d be well worth it, too.”

Y/n tries desperately to blink away her tears, and she’s forever grateful that the light is off in his living room when she fails to do so.

“I—I think you should do what you want, Harry” her voice shakes as she speaks, “I’ll be here for you either way.”

Harry holds her tighter, humming in response again, because he’s already falling asleep and finds no energy in him to answer her.

She wishes with everything in her that she can scream, scream at him for being so fucking stupid and oblivious to her love. And the worst part is that she can’t even blame him. She had an entire four months where she could have confessed her feelings, where she could have told him how in love with him she was.

But would it have changed anything? Would they have just ended up in this shitty situation anyway?

And it isn’t until Harry’s passed out on top of her, his breath spreading along her chest and his fingers rubbing her back in his slumber that Y/n realizes she could spend forever laying here with him, all wrapped up against his body. She could fall asleep like this every night, after a long day of work and empty wine glasses on the coffee table. She could see everything, everything she’s ever envisioned, with him.

And it’s in this moment she realizes that she can’t keep doing this anymore, either.

Her cheeks dampen with her tears, hands shaking in his hair. Never would she think she’d have to let him go, but seeing his face rest so peacefully on her chest, she knows she has to.

“I love you, Harry.” She cries, her fingers gripping onto the roots of his hair.

God, Harry, I love you so much.” she sobs.

If Harry wasn’t such a deep sleeper, she would have never dreamt of saying all of this. But he’s remaining asleep, lips parted as he snores, the alcohol in his veins making him almost immobile against her.

“You deserve to be happy, Harry” she whispers, “I shouldn’t hold you back.”

Her body is shaking, soft cries leaving her lips and endless tears streaming down her face. She doesn’t want to let go, she doesn’t want to stop loving him in the way she does now. Because even though it hurts, she doesn’t want to imagine a day without him.

But she has to. For him.

Her thumbs rub along his cheekbones, her eyes admiring his features one last time.

“And it’s because I love you—“ she pauses, swallowing thickly as her shaking lips press tentatively against his forehead, “that I have to let you go.”

so much of the dynamic boils down to “in which direction are you overcompensating for being nothing more or less than a flawed human being in need of love”

Divide and rule.

By accident,or by design, that’s what’s happening round here at the moment. Wouldn’t it be great if we could express our opinions without tearing apart people who have different opinions? If we could stop taking an aggressive and angry tone with people who mean well, but say things we consider less intelligent or worldly than our own superior opinions? Because opinions are all any of us have if we’re honest. There are facts driving everything that we’re simply not party to. Honest discussion is interesting. I don’t want a dash full of identikit opinions because people are too scared to speak up, or to see people disappear because they’re sad or confused and they feel those things aren’t tolerated. Yes, you can say what you like on your own blog. If you want to be an asshole, be an asshole and people can unfollow you if they don’t like it, but maybe we’d have a less exhausted, less toxic, less miserable fandom if you directed your energy away from attacking people who like the same things you do. 

I love Harry. Always have, always will. He’s a good person. I don’t believe he has his freedom. I really don’t like the Harry brand strategy. I’m emotional about all the boys, so that upsets me. I’m becoming disengaged and I think I’m being manipulated into that. I think people are winning who I don’t want to win. I’d like to turn to the fandom to regain my strength and perspective so I can carry on supporting the boys in the way I’d like to, because I really do think they need us. That’s becoming harder and harder to do though, because the fandom is falling apart. So maybe we could try treating each other with a bit more respect and kindness, because if we don’t, all we’ll have left is a few really thick skinned, stubborn people shouting at each other about how right they are. At our best, we’re powerful and amazing and revolutionary. At our worst, we’re nothing. Divide and rule.

warmth of the moon

i was attempting to explore what lies
behind our perceptions and i find
your essence but i’m lost in the
nebulous dimensions of my
thoughts and direction

i thought saw you crossing
at the intersection of love
and fear longing for the
garden where we are free
floating above societal

beyond the light of rings
of saturn

we’re but
butterflies in the wind


BTS reaction to s/o having bad sense of direction/time

“Hi! Maybe you could make a reaction for bts when their s/o has a bad sense of time and direction and sometimes am late/get lost because of it? Thank you :)”- Anon

Hey!! Yes I can surely do that reaction :) I am very bad with following directions too. Bad enough to forget my way home lmao.


He would find it funny when you told him you were not good with directions at all. “That is not possible because you are perfect at everything” he lightly kissed your cheek. He was proven wrong when you got lost while finding your way to the dorm “ You really weren’t kidding were you…?”. You turned around and he was standing behind you with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

Originally posted by jhopefluxo


 He got to witness how you weren’t good with keeping track of time when you got late on the day of your job interview. You were rushing around, and somehow ended up hitting him on his face. “Remind me why I am with you again ,y/n?” he asked you “ Because you love me….?” you sort of asked/said. “Wrong, I am breaking up with you”. He shook his head at you. 

Originally posted by jeonbase


Hoseok knew you were bad with directions, but he didn’t know it was so bad you could get lost in the supermarket “ How is that even humanly possible?” he would break out into laughter as soon as he saw you. Every time after that incident he would tease you about that one time you got lost in the supermarket. 

Originally posted by iamlatinaandilovekpop


 He would be the happiest out of all guys when you told him you were always late to everything. He had affinity for breaking things, and you couldn’t for the life of you keep track of time. “I have finally found my soulmate” he would laugh to you. He just wasn’t happy when you bumped into him because you were getting late and he broke his favorite sunglasses “ I really can’t tell if I am at fault or if you are jagiya, for breaking these sunglasses.“ 

Originally posted by ygnj


He would worry for you every time you got lost. But he knew you couldn’t remember directions too well. “Jagiya, did you not reach home yet? I was so worried.” When you told him you kind of, sort of maybe took a wrong turn on your way home he would laugh. However he would tell you it was okay as long as you were safe. He would encourage you to go out on your own more, and if anything happened “I am only a phone call away” (ignore the caption in gif)

Originally posted by ohparkjimin


Taetae would find your forgetfulness somewhat cute. He would be seriously amused at how often you got late. “Maybe I should gift you a watch for every single occasion” he would tease you. But he would always try his best to remind you if you were getting late. 

Originally posted by vmiin


This boy would be like Suga. He would get a little annoyed at times, but lowkey he would find it interesting and intriguing. He wouldn’t for the life of him understand how you could not comprehend directions. When you got lost while trying to find him at the carnival he announced “That’s it! I am buying you a gps that you can have on you at all times.” 

Originally posted by sugutie

*Excuse any grammatical/ spelling errors*

There you go hun! I really hope you like it :) Please feel free to request more! Have an amazing day



‘Don’t Want To Let You Down’ :: Tumblr Edition, #2

There are people who will swear by the healing powers of scolding hot shower. They’ll go on and on about how the hot water does marvellous things to the tense muscles of the back, and somehow erases the taunting voices of self-doubt and hatred. These are people who harp on about how afterward they feel ‘clean’ in a whole new, metaphoric sense of the word.

But Louis Tomlinson wasn’t one of those people.

Keep reading

ponyregrets  asked:

Spin the bottle kiss for Bellarke!

set in some nebulous canon-era future

It’s not that Bellamy doesn’t want to kiss Clarke. That’s not it at all. For the past few months, that’s basically all he’s wanted to do; it’s gotten pretty distracting.

It’s just—he was hoping if he ever got the chance, it would be for a slightly more romantic (and decidedly less cliché) reason than spin the bottle. Both because the very concept of spin the bottle makes him wince—they’re adults now, they should have better ways to spend their time—and because spin the bottle is, by necessity, a very public affair.

He really doesn’t want to kiss Clarke for the first time at Raven’s birthday party, squeezed in next to Miller with Jasper’s feet slung across his lap, just because the top of a bottle of moonshine happened to point in his direction.

“C’mon, Blake, you going to be a coward about this?” asks Raven, all sharp grin. And Bellamy catches Clarke’s eye across the circle, sees her worry her lip as she smiles, and—fuck.

“I’m in,” says Bellamy, “But I want it on record that I think this is stupid.”

“Of course you do,” says Raven, giving the bottle a spin.

Turns out, it’s more fun than he thought it would be. The alcohol helps, dulling that prickle of tension he’s gotten used to holding at the base of his neck, and plus, they’re all friends here. He laughs when Raven’s spin lands on a giggling Harper, when Harper crawls across Raven to peck Jasper on the lips, when Miller tries to half-heartedly fight Jasper away from his mouth.

Miller’s the first to get him, and he tugs Bellamy towards him with fond aggression, his kiss firm and scratchy. When Bellamy takes his spin, there’s a moment where it looks like the bottle’s going to land on Clarke. But no, Raven again, who rolls her eyes like she can’t bear the thought.

“You’ve kissed me before,” Bellamy reminds her as he leans forward.

“Eww,” is all Raven says before she kisses him. When he pulls back, he turns to find Clarke laughing, head tipped onto Monty’s shoulder, her features soft and hazy in the orange light of the fire. She smiles at him, and Bellamy’s whole body feels warm.

Turns out, Bellamy was so concerned with the public aspect of spin the bottle that he didn’t consider the bigger issue: that even after an entire game, he might not get to kiss Clarke at all. He watches her lock lips with Miller and Raven and Jackson, and she cheers when he kisses Monty (a kiss that he’s sure to make last a bit longer than it should, just for the pleasure of making Miller squirm). But at no point do they manage to get the bottle to land on each other.

 (Bellamy can’t speak for Clarke, but he, at least, is fucking trying.)

As they’re winding down, Clarke has last spin. She gives Bellamy some odd, cautious look before looking back down at the bottle and twisting her wrist, sending it whirling across the dirt.

But of course, the top just passes where Bellamy’s sitting, inching over to land on Miller instead.

Miller swears, Clarke rolls her eyes, and Bellamy tries to keep as neutral a face as possible despite the disappointment curdling in his gut. Clarke crawls forward, and Bellamy leans back a little to give her a clearer path.

So it takes him completely by surprise when, at the last moment, she veers left, right into his space, and presses her lips to his.

It’s barely anything, over almost as soon as it began, but it’s enough to take all the air from Bellamy’s chest. He blinks at her, barely registering the roars of the group, barely registering anything at all save the way she bites her bottom lip.

“I just really didn’t want to kiss Miller,” she explains.

“Understandable,” he manages. “Feel free to avoid kissing Miller anytime.”

She smiles, so bright it almost hurts. “Will do.”

anonymous asked:

Hey could you do 13 and 75 with Isaac Lahey?

Isaac Lahey - “Do you ever follow directions?”

You shifted your weight from one leg to the other. You had checked your watch a thousand times during the last couple of minutes, but Isaac had still not arrived. If he had been anyone else, you would have started to get worried, but now you were mostly just annoyed. You were already looking forward to all the excuses he would come up with.

“Sorry…” Isaac was out of breath when he eventually stood in front of your door. “I thought I knew a shorter route, but I sorta think that the shorter route was not exactly a shorter route…” He placed his hands on his knees and you rolled your eyes while you shook your head.

Do you ever follow directions?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’ve explained you at least four times how to get from your house to my house. If there had been a shorter way, don’t you think I would have given you that one?”

Isaac straightened his back again and he scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you would’ve…” He licked his lips and his cheeks started to blush a little. Even though you wanted to be mad at him, he wasn’t making it easy for you to do so. “I didn’t really listen to what you said yesterday, okay?”

You stared at him for a couple of seconds without saying a word. “So, then what were you doing exactly while I was trying to give you the most detailed description ever?” You raised your eyebrows and even though it seemed almost impossible, his cheeks reddened even more.

“I euh…” He stuttered, almost tripping over his own words and then he took a deep breath. “My hobby is making fun of you when you talk…” He bent his head and stared at his feet, but then his lips curled up into a grin, lights dancing in his eyes. “I was…I was a little distracted I think…” His gaze met yours and you saw something you had never seen before. “I’m always a little distracted when I’m talking to you, actually.”

“And what in the world could be more important than focussing on me when I talk?” You curled your lips up into a smile too and Isaac paused for a moment while turning his head away from you.

“Well, it’s not that there is anything more important, actually…” He took a deep breath. “It’s more that when I look at you it’s like my heart skips a beat and I just want to stare at you and then the world becomes this big blur and…”

“Wait…” You interrupted him and you widened your eyes. “Are you just telling me in that typical way of yours that you’re in love with me?”

“O, no, I…” Isaac froze for a moment and then he shrugged his shoulders. “I think so…”

For a moment you didn’t know what to say and then you started laughing. “You’re in love with…me?” You let the words sink in and thought about them for a moment. “You’re in love with me…” All of a sudden a lot of things made sense and you took a deep breath. “O…you’re in love with me…” Your voice was now barely a whisper.

“But you’re not in love with me, right?” Isaac swallowed and he stared at you with those big blue eyes.

“I…” You wanted to say no, but somehow you couldn’t say it. “I don’t know actually. I never…I never thought about it.” You normally didn’t stutter this much, but you couldn’t help it. “I’ll answer that question after we finished our project, okay?”

Isaac nodded, his lips curling up into a nervous grin. “Okay.”

hitoshi would actually be a really good rescue hero though???? he would excel in evacuations. often the problem with evacuation is that people panic which always causes more panic and more problems. so you have hitoshi going around and asking simple questions like “do you need help? would you like to be rescued? are you okay?” it doesn’t matter as long as they respond. and then he simply directs them to evacuate calmly. you put him in a team of 3-5 where he works on calming people and getting them to evacuate while the other heroes keep the people safe from falling debris, fire, villains, etc. the number of casualties caused by panic would drop drastically.

anonymous asked:

Sorry if I did this wrong. I am working on becoming a hairstylist and trying to learn to work with all hair types, as I live in an area that has a huge diversity of hair types. I am reading through The Shea posts and i am a bit confused as to what is wrong with the formula change? Is there a specific formula or ingredient I should look for that will work with Black hair? Hopefully you have something you can pass along to educate or can point me in a good direction.

If you actually read the post you’d see that thicker formulas, etc work better with tighter curl patterns but you didn’t read that post thoroughly did you.

Don’t come into this inbox with non sense. How the hell are you going to be a fucking hairstylist working on “diverse” hair can’t even look up this info themselves.

Writer's Tag Game

I was tagged by @electricarmchair thanks! 💜

rules: tag.. people

1. Are there common settings (fictional or real)  that show up in your writing?

No. There isn’t usually a particular setting at all, just…some vague space haha

2. Do you plan before writing, or go with the flow?

Go with the flow, for sure. I’m not afraid to scrap an idea and go in a completely different direction

3. If you could be a colour, what colour would you be and why?

Purple. It’s my favorite…and it’s pretty!

4. Do you often and prefer to write sober? Why or why not?

I’ve never even been drunk, so sober all the way. Some of my stuff may have seemed like I was on something, but I can’t blame it on that haha

5. Do you multitask while writing?

No, I get in a kinda intense zone when I’m seriously writing. Though I have composed things in my head while otherwise preoccupied. But then I got too distracted from whatever else I was doing

6. What genre(s) would you classify your writing under?

Heck if I know!

7. What do you do more, read or write?

Depends on the day, I guess. But usually I read more things than write them

8. What’s your favourite word and why?

Grace. Every meaning of that word is pure loveliness to me

9. Why do you write?

Because I can’t NOT do it

I tag @everywriter who reads this. Not tagging any individually because I’m sure all the ones I know of have been tagged by now