i've spent the last two hours on this

Me: Is grateful that I’m broke because it means that I don’t waste all my money going on splurging sprees while online shopping. 

Also me: retail therapy is my way of coping with life, and I hate that I’m fucking broke because all I want to do is online shop. 

Originally posted by thebarnes


Sometimes it’s gonna be hard. Sometimes you are gonna look all around you and nowhere do you see success. Nowhere do you see anything that remotely looks like success. But you gotta embrace number two, you gotta embrace the faith, you gotta believe that if you keep pressing, if you keep pushing, one day is gonna be your day. When there is no evidence around you, when you feel like giving up, you gotta embrace the faith and believe that one day is gonna be my day. That one day can’t be your day if you give up - if you quit, no day will ever be your day. 


What a wicked game you play, you make me feel this way. (insp. by @imaginaryanon)

dummy rival

Ethan/Gold set
Kris set

So I wrote a thing.

Untitled ficlet, Harry/Louis, PG, canon.

Harry sends him an issue before the photos even leak, by courier, as if he’s afraid Louis might not see it soon enough. Louis knew he’d been working on something, because Niall told him, but he had no idea the scope was so big. “A special document curated by Harry,” the magazine cover proudly proclaims. On it, Harry stares at Louis through a spiderweb, but it’s hard to pay attention to Harry’s eyes when Louis’s gaze keeps coming back to the collar around Harry’s neck. The bottom of the picture is obscured by text, but Louis’s quite sure there’s a leash dangling from the collar.

It’s admittedly not what Louis had been expecting.

Louis watches the cover for a long while before he flicks the magazine open at random…

… and falls on an ad.

It only takes him two more tries before he methodically rips off every page that isn’t to do with Harry, barely looking at the ones that do feature him, until there’s a pile of paper at his feet high enough for him to throw a good kick into it, scattering them everywhere.

This time when he opens the magazine, it’s to find Harry sitting on a trashcan. He looks so young that for a second Louis assumes they’ve used old pictures for the article, but the shot is quite obviously recent, even if Harry’s hair looks nothing like on those Dunkirk pics (which Louis only saw because Liam sent him some, it’s not like he trolled the #dunkirk tag on twitter or anything).

Louis flips back a few pages, stops on a picture of Harry sitting on a kitchen counter in the most hideous jumper Louis has ever seen; it looks like someone’s killed a muppet and made a sweater out of it. It should look ridiculous, but Harry looks beautiful, with his lips curled imperceptibly down into a bored pout, his slender fingers pressed against his chin, his eyes half-lidded.

Another picture shows him holding a pint, looking too young to be allowed to drink its contents. He looks like the Harry Louis met six years ago, like the Harry Louis used to call his best friend before they were driven apart… by the rumours, by fear, by time.

Louis loses himself in the pictures and the words, sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor of his hallway, fingers stroking the glossy pages. He knows every word and every photo has been carefully chosen, knows Harry has only shown precisely what he wanted to show, but he still gets fooled into believing he’s being made privy to the deepest corners of Harry’s soul.

Once upon a time, this wouldn’t have been an illusion. The memory only makes the deception more potent, and more painful.

Harry is baring his heart out for the whole world to see and he apparently wanted Louis to see it so badly he made sure Louis would get a copy.

When Louis types Harry’s name into his phone with fingers that are definitely not shaking from nerves, the autofill feature remains silent. There are no previous messages saved. He doesn’t actually remember the last time he texted Harry.

He doesn’t know what to write, so he goes for the expected.

Artsy, are we? he sends, not expecting any reply. He’s barely pressed Send that a happy little bubble pops up at the bottom of the screen to indicate that Harry’s writing back.

Did you like it?

He should lie.

He cannot.

Yes. he types, then adds, against his better judgement; It’s amazing.


He doesn’t ask Harry why the fuck his opinion suddenly matters. But he does something much worse.

Are you in town?

His treacherous thumb presses Send before he can stop himself and Louis looks at his phone, horrified, but there is no turning back. He doesn’t even know why he wrote this. He doesn’t even want-


It’s like he doesn’t have any control over his fingers. They fly over his screen, while his brain desperately tries to hammer some sense into them, in vain. Louis knows every letter he types is a mistake, but the magazine in his lap is opened on that picture of Harry standing tall and long-haired, his naked torso framed by the lapels of a ridiculous red jacket, and Louis can’t think.

Dyou want to come over?

Harry’s answer takes ages to appear. It’s definitely for the best. Louis doesn’t even know why he asked, doesn’t know what he would do if Harry agreed. They have been strangers for too long now. There is no mending what fame has undone.

The answer pops up just when Louis’s managed to convince himself that he never wanted Harry to say yes.

Come to my place. Easier.

And just like that, Louis’s off.

Keep reading

“I spent two hours in IKEA and came out with three boxes of cinnamon rolls, too many meatballs to put in my freezer, and a stuffed fox. I can’t exactly return food, and the fox is too cute to send back to that black hole of merchandise. Want a cinnamon roll? I also have a big ass Crock Pot of meatballs in the office if you’d rather have those.”


“The Frightened child who sheltered in my manse died on the Dothraki Sea, and was reborn in blood and fire. This dragon queen who wears her name is a true Taragaryen.”

anonymous asked:

With MGS 5 being released in less than a week I need to know: Did you do up a "Punished Malik" Ground Zeroes/One Direction photoshop last year? If so do you still have it? I've spent the last two hours looking for it and the world needs to know about the hero who lost it all!

It won’t be long until Outer Direction falls like every other boy band

anonymous asked:

Dear non-ace people: Just after I started identifying as asexual, we had a talk on sexualities at school. Afterwards, I cried in a toilet cubicle for about fifteen minutes, because the last two hours had been, "Everyone feels sexual attraction" and, "Everybody likes sex", over and over again, and it made me feel even more broken and alone. I spent almost the next two years denying my asexuality. But please - tell me more about how I've picked out this sexuality just to feel quirky and unique.