“Thomas what are you doing here?” you open the door, hiding your cold hands in the sleeves of your sweater, tucking a piece of your bed strewn hair behind your ear. His face is glowing, his eyes set on you as a smile spreads across his face. You hug your stomach, resting your head against the frame of the door.

“Look, I know that we haven’t spoken since the day in the park, and that you probably want to punch my in the face right now-”

“I do,” you force yourself not to laugh at the smirk that flickers across his face. You force yourself to remember. “Thomas I told you- I told you that I loved you and you walked away.”

“I know,” he holds up his hands, “I need you to understand that the closest I’ve gotten to talking to a girl before you was asking a girl on the tube which stop was next,” Thomas runs a hand through his hair shakily, “and the thought of love- well it scared the shit out of me to put it blankly. The idea of love is a beautiful thing, to find someone who knows you better than yourself, to feel a connection that deep, but love itself is daunting. All of the relationships in my life- my parents, my grandparents- have ended badly and left me caught in the middle of the side effects of love. Incurable side effects. I’ve grown up with this idea that love is the acceptance of an unavoidable, inevitable termination of a temporary high because of unmet expectations. Its like having a terminal disease and pretending you aren’t going to die. But then, then I met you and it made me question if maybe just maybe there is an exception to the destruction of love, that maybe there are some survivors. When you said you loved me, I was so afraid of what could happen, so afraid that I might get hurt by you, when in reality I was the one hurting myself because if I ever lost you, that would be the death of me.”

Thomas takes a deep breathe, stepping closer to you and brushing his fingers against your cheek. “And if love is what I was raised to believe, if it is my inevitable destruction then boy would I be honored to have my heart broken by you because - I love you.”

!!!Please Help!!!

Hey Everyone!
I’m looking for someone I lost contact with a long time ago, and I’d ask if you could please reblog this until someone he’s close to might see this! (In United States, CA.)
When I was incredibly young, my older brother had a childhood friend who we all called “Jabroni” (his real name is Rogelio). Because of unfortunate family situations, Jabroni always spent his time at our house and basically became like another older brother. I don’t remember exactly when he moved away because I was too young.
He should be around 24-26 years old by now, though. He is Latino, and his eyes were a light brownish color. His hair was brown and curly. I also remember that one time he came to visit our house, but my mom and I were the only ones home. I remember being too shy to approach him and hiding behind my bed. He looked at me and said, “Wow, you’re so big now.” I was in sixth grade at the time, and now I’m almost finished up with my first year of college.
I know this is a long shot, but I desperately want to find him because he meant so much to me. In case there is someone who thinks they might know him, please show him this and tell him that “Fer” is looking for him. My older brother’s name is Jonathan, and my older sister is Joselyn.
Please Please Please reblog this. I don’t remember much about him, but I do remember that I loved him very much. So I would really appreciate a reblog. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this!

Ashton Surf Smut Preview!

(not my gif, credit to the owner)

I loved watching her in the mornings quite a bit. I’d say it’s because of how sure she was, every step coming to her feet like the waves licked the shore. Not many people are as decisive as the sun rising every day. A lot of us need a couple hours of being awake first. Yet there she was, the girl I came to know as “Early Bird.” I hadn’t learned her name, but I knew that she closed the squeaky wooden door of her bungalow at roughly 7 am everyday. She didn’t mind the wind pushing her hair against her cheeks or chest.

I knew that she was gorgeous and magnetic, pulling me out of bed and onto the sand at roughly 7 am everyday.

Maybe I was a hopeless crush she’d remember later in the summer. That curly headed boy with a scar along his torso and knee…she might not notice any part of me at all. Did I hide behind my glasses more after the accident? Or was her light just bright enough to make everyone else seem like they were careful about being seen?

The truth was I couldn’t be sure, and I never would be…unless I said hi.

So that was my plan today.

Just say “Hi” Ash….just say hi.