look at them little babies

I feel like not enough people appreciate Chris Nairn.


Have you seen her???

Look at this puppy


ALSO her eyes…man. (holy throwback to baby Nonny) Look at them orbs

(I’m a little biased because we went to the same college) 


She always tucks the shoulders of her shirts into her bra strap because who needs sleeves???

She’s got style (really loves ninja buns???)

She’s also got a really cute girlfriend (what up Caity)

Basically she is my meatball and I just think that everyone needs to love her

Heartbroken and Alone(Whipped Series)

I figured it’s time to put a stop to title-ing any follow up as “Whipped” anything since y’know, Harry can no longer express how seriously whipped he’s been.

So I’ll start by apologizing for not title-ing this Whipped Ex PT7.

Anyway, I want to take the the time to thank every single one of my lovely readers for being so patient and not killing me over the lack of updates!/.^


“‘Ave ye’ heard, love? Julia’s pregnant. 'Aving another little one.” Harry breaks the comfortable silence, a grin wide on his face as he averts his attention away from his phone screen and to his girlfriend who’d settled herself in between his legs and on top of his body. 

“Is she?” Y/N’s eyes widen in excitement, brows arching as she turns her head to lay her chin on her folded hands that rest atop Harry’s chest. 

“They 'aven’t publicly announced yet. But yeah, baby number three s'on its way.”

“Hmm,” she hums in thought, pressing her ear to his chest, the steady thumping of his heart sending her into a sudden comfort, “what do you reckon we should gift them?" 

Harry’s brows furrow, tongue poking out in thought as his fingers lightly begin to trail her spine from the arch of her back, up to between her shoulder blades and back down. 

He’s looking at the top of her head absentmindedly, noticing the way her body seems to raise and fall at the rhythm of his breathing. 

"Wha’ about a crib?” He questions, halting his movements on her back and bringing his phone back up to eye level, fingers working to search up cribs on Google.

He’s scrolling through endless pictures. Wood brown cribs, white cribs, grey cribs, cribs with slats, some without. All pretty, some not traditional and with drawers worked into them. And he must admit, looking through beds for little teeny-weeny babies gets his heart all fuzzy and warm.

“What’re you smiling at?”

Y/N’s moved her hands to lie under and wrap over his shoulders, gazing at him curiously, a finger lifting to poke at his dimple.

Harry hums at the feeling, but says nothing, just takes a quick glance to meet her eyes, his nose scrunching cutely at her. 

“Not gonna tell me?” She whispers, chin now poking into the top of his chest. 

Her mouth moves to press a gentle kiss to his chin before pulling back slightly. And when Harry doesn’t respond at all, she kisses just under his chin, nibbling at the stubble he’s been growing for a few weeks. Though it prickles her lips, she stretches her neck further to press more kisses every time Harry tilts his head back to avoid her pecks.

“Not gonna stop till you tell me!” He’s wiggling under her, head tilting to the opposite side every time she tries to kiss him, until she’s poking her tongue out against his chin.

“Did ye’ jus’ lick me?” Harry looks at her accusingly, and his laugh rumbles against her chest as he brings his hand up to wipe at the slightly damp spot. 

The sight of his Y/N trying to hold back a laugh has him narrowing his eyes at her before his own tongue is licking her forehead.

Y/N giggles at that, flattening her palm on his forehead and moving it upwards to push his hair back.

“What’s got you smiling like a dolt, H?" 

Harry clicks his phone off then, looking down at her intently, hands locking over her lower back and sock clad feet rubbing against her own bare feet.

"M'just 'appy tha’ you’re 'ere.”

Harry’s always been quite sappy, but if she’s being honest, this sort of catches her off guard, doesn’t really know what’s got him saying that.

“I’ve always been here silly.” She chimes, 'booping’ his nose with her index finger.

Harry spreads his hands over her back, rubbing up and down once and then bringing his right to wrap around the back of her neck. He presses into it to bring her face closer so he can kiss her forehead.

He exhales audibly, the hand that was on her neck now working to push her hair back with the back side of his fingers, tips brushing her shoulder.

“But m'appy to have ye’ like this, pet. To m'self,” he whispers, “all t'myself.”

Y/N’s sure she’s never felt this happy before. And she really doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t think there are words that’ll express just how happy she is to be here with him. So she smiles warmly at him when he starts to hum to the tune of “Songbird,” and watches his hooded eyes close completely, a smile creeping onto his lips as he runs his hand down her back and rests it on the curve of her bum, thumb slipping under the hem of her shirt and rubbing circles on the hot skin. 

“Harry?” He thinks he wouldn’t have caught if it weren’t for the fact she’s so close to him.

Harry can hear reluctance laced in that simple word, and when he opens his eyes, he’s met with a timid look, a look that tells him her mind might be tittering on whether she should continue or not.

He smiles reassuringly before whispering, “Yes, love?”

“You love me, right?" 

Harry cracks a smile, appalled she would even have to ask at this point. 

"G'na love ye’ til I die,” his words get muffled into her hair, “m'gonna be good t'ye and m'gonna love ye’. Never g'na do anything to jeopardise that, pet. Promise." 

It was a promise she didn’t know she’d needed. A promise Harry thought was implied in their relationship, something he didn’t know he had to audibly say. But it seems to put her at ease by the way she relaxes further onto his body, an ear pressed to the right of his chest.

They continue to indulge in each other’s company, nothing but light huffs falling into the silent air. 

"Loved ye’ for a long while now,” he admits, though he’s sure he’s said it before, “not g'na stop.”

He feels the curve of a smile on his skin as she reaches up to take his cross necklace between her fingers, moving it in a way that it slides on the chain.



Y/N doesn’t remember how long she’s been stood still, with the moon and the stars shining through her kitchen windows like spotlights. But it feels like forever. It’s felt like forever since the breakup. Days seem to drag longer, nights feel shorter than usual, and she can’t recall the last time she’s had a nice long sleep. 

If any of her friends were to ask - which they have - she’s been doing rather well. Doesn’t deny that it didn’t falter her any, but she’s aware time will heal her wounds. She’ll spit lies about how she’s been preoccupied with work enough that her mind’s able to function normally. 

But in a quick reality check - which she can thank her wandering mind for - she’ll remind herself of Harry’s betrayal. 

That’s how she seems to have ended up sobbing in her kitchen. 

She had let herself enjoy her own company - maybe a little too much. She’d prepared a bubble bath when she’d gotten home, but was quickly reminded that Harry had gifted her the luscious bombs when she walked back into the bathroom and caught a whiff of the lavender scent. Without further knowledge to the inviting bubbly water, she’d retracted from the room and shut the door all too hastily, leaving the bubbles to deflate until the water was nothing but a soapy lilac coloured puddle of memories. 

She was beginning to get better at blocking out any thoughts of him - or so she’d tried to convince herself. Plenty times she’d caught herself turning off her telly because 'shit. Dunkirk promo’s started' and she knew there was a chance she’d catch a glimpse of him even if she was clicking through channels. And no matter how quick she’d be to click it off, it would surely send her into a haze she’d much rather avoid. 

But tonight. After a month of working on picking herself up, it all caught up with her.

She was stumped after having walked down the empty hallway to her sitting area, enough that she didn’t think twice when her eyes caught sight of the bottle of wine she’d long forgotten two nights ago. She gripped the neck of it maybe a little too harshly, completely throwing the idea of pouring it into a glass out the window and wrapping her lips around the opening. Tilting her head back, she’d taken a long swig, brows furrowed and eyes screwing shut in hopes of silencing her mind and any thoughts of Harry. 

She’d wiped her lips with the back of her hand after they’d detached from the bottle and slumped down on the sofa. 

Slowly - through every chug and every gulp - she’d begun to get light headed, sight becoming blurry and body growing tired.

She’d reached for the control and turned on the telly absentmindedly, barely paying any attention to the program displayed across the screen. 

But she never realised at what point the interview began. And frankly couldn’t comprehend why it had taken her so long to turn it off after the imagine of him processed through her mind. 

It sobered her up some, enough to bring her to her current spot at the kitchen window. Tears free falling down her cheeks and eyes stinging from not having bothered in taking off her make up. She made no effort in silencing her sobs. This is her home after all. A place she can be vulnerable, even if it’s only to herself. 

She lets the recent image of Harry imprint into her brain, unable to deny that although the sight of him made her heart literally hurt, it also made it melt. It’s as if she was conditioned to feel nothing but happy when she saw him or heard his voice or even caught the mention of his name.

It’s not until her ringtone for Gemma sounds that she snaps her head in the direction of the sitting area. Walking over to her purse but not necessarily tripping over herself to answer the call. 

She inhales deeply before pressing the green button and lifting the phone up to her ear, wet cheeks causing the phone to slide down slightly only for her to readjust after wiping at the damp skin.

She lets out cough, hoping to steady her voice so that it’ll sound more as if she’d been asleep rather than crying. 

"Hey, Gem.” Complete fail.

“Y/N! Love,” and it’s as if she was actually surprised she’d picked up, “haven’t talked to you in a while. How’ve you been?”

Y/N’s been close to Gemma the second Harry had brought her over to their childhood home for a birthday party. She’d found herself confiding in her like you would a best friend. Harry had often been at the center of their conversations, and it was actually Gemma who’d at one point called it that her baby brother would end up with Y/N. 

So Y/N thinks she understands why Gemma would be surprised she’d answer her call. One would think she would have ignored it like she’s been ignoring Harry’s. 

But all in all, Gemma’s not the person Y/N would’ve gone to crying over Harry. Not her, not Niall, not Grimmy. And as sad as it is to admit, having made friends with Harry’s circle of friends led up to be heartbreaking. It was a given fact she wasn’t going to reach out to any of them after what happened. She wasn’t going to be the person that would strain those friendships, wouldn’t take any pity from them. And in all honesty, wasn’t going to make Harry look bad in their eyes, no matter how much he deserved it. 

“I’ve been better,” she admits, voice low and timid. 

After that, Gemma tries her best to comfort her. She tells Y/N her how she wishes she had given her a call after it all happened. Tells her over and over again how it didn’t matter that Harry was her brother, he’d been a proper dick and she would have smacked some sense into him if she’d known. All in all, she just couldn’t believe Harry had cheated. 

She also talks about how miserable Harry’s been, moping about their mum’s, spending more time inside than she’s ever seen him do. She tells Y/N how it breaks her heart to hear her baby brother silently crying on the sofa at night when he thinks everybody’s gone to sleep. And Y/N notices how not once Gemma mentions that Y/N should forgive him, only wishes she gets better and assures her that anything she needs, all she has to do is call.

When the call ends, Y/N tries so hard to hold back the fresh tears rimming her eyes. 

She couldn’t bring herself to think of Harry being miserable. Of a broken Harry sulking over the mess he’d made. 

Many times she’d been there to ease his mind and worries, to calm his sobs and lull him back into her Harry. A kind Harry that saw the world for more than what it was. 

But now, she’s suffering. And he’s suffering. 

She fiddles with the phone in her hands, a picture of Harry towards the upper left corner of the screen, his contact number screaming out at her. 

Her thumb lingers over the digits, mind saying no, but heart contradicting it. 

What would she even say to break the ice? Maybe she could start by congratulating him on the film? But then what? The second that phone rings, there’s no going back.

And she knows she can’t speak to him, not when she’s this vulnerable, not when the sound of his voice might just have her braking down in tears for the third time today.

Maybe she shouldn’t. Not after it all. She doesn’t want to be that person. The one that so easily forgives the people who’ve wronged them. But haven’t they both had enough? Haven’t they suffered more than needed? More than they should have? 

But a simple congrats doesn’t mean anything more than congrats. She’s not taking him back for Christ sake. She’s overthinking it, but she just wants to tell him she’s proud. 

Her thumbs swipe over the keyboard swiftly. 

“Congratulations on the movie, Harry. Hope you’re doing well." 



“Betsy Wolfe […] and Lindsay Mendez who I, oddly enough, think are the most singularly talented individuals and unique voices of that younger generation; much younger generation, as they will often tell me.”

sherie rene scott on being a “proud mom” to her former back up singers from everyday rapture

anonymous asked:

Prompt: Kim and Trini watching Supergirl together.

Thanks for the prompt!

Monday nights were sacred. On Monday’s they had a rule: if the world wasn’t at risk of ending and there were no imminent threats, then they had to be over at Trini’s - mostly to show her mother she did in fact have friends - to watch Supergirl.

Trini, of course, blames Kimberly for getting her into the damn show. She had been fine with messing on her phone or with doing homework while her f=girlfriend watched it, but Kimberly would just complain they weren’t doing anything together. Trini had rolled her eyes and had let out a deep breathe, but had gone to join her girlfriend, nonetheless, scooting herself down the bed so she could sit next to her.

“We have to start from the beginning.” Kimberly had said as she messed around with her phone for a couple seconds, her eyes furrowing in concentration. 

“Wait, what? What are we watching?” Trini asks, trying to peek over Kimberly’s shoulder. It didn’t take long before the starting monologue of Supergirl blared out in her room. Trini groans because she’s heard this before - Kimberly talks about it every chance she gets - and she knows the other girl is already on the second season.

“Just give it a chance.” Kimberly whines next to her as she rolls her eyes. 

“Fine.” Trini says, a small huff escaping her lips. She doesn’t complain further, though, because Kimberly smiles at her with that really big smile she gets when she’s really excited, so she figures she can indulge her in watching the firs few episodes until they fall asleep. Also, the small kisses she gets from her girlfriend throughout the night don’t hurt either.

But she didn’t realize that’s how it starts, and she hates herself for being so weak. It didn’t take long for Trini to be invested. In fact, the next morning, when she woke up with Kimberly’s dark hair in her mouth and the girl curled around her, she hadn’t remembered how or when she had fallen asleep. Kimberly had laughed and given her a knowing smirk before pulling her out of bed a few minutes later. 

Then, she finished the first season. All of it. It took her three days of almost no sleep. She had been glad she had finished, now she could move on with her life.

“You know there’s a second season, right?” 

Trini wants to shoot lasers at her girlfriend. Kimberly laughs as Trini glares at the wall above her head, Trini’s hand tightening around her pen, trying to control the urge of snapping it in half in the middle of chemistry. She didn’t need to see the second season, though, because she was fine, she was almost an adult and she didn’t have an addiction to fictional characters. No, she didn’t.

“I have them on demand, wanna come over tonight?” Kimberly says from across Trini, a smirk playing on her face as she waits for a response.

It takes her a total of thirteen seconds before she lets her shoulder sag. “Ugh, fine,” Trini concedes, still glaring at the wall as she curses herself for being so weak.

She doesn’t sleep that night. She had gotten to her girlfriend’s right after school, secretly thanking whoever it was for not having to save the world - at least tonight - and she didn’t leave until the next morning for school - she tried to ignore the weird looks she got…mostly because she was wearing her girlfriend’s clothes.

Trini had the biggest TV, so when she had invited her girlfriend over to watch the latest episode, who was she to dictate what they watched. It wasn’t a secret Kimberly never missed an episode - it made it easier on her to have an excuse to have to watch it. And everything would haven been fine if she wasn’t so…invested.

“Can you believe this prick? Who does he think he is?” Trini says outraged as she glares at the TV, making gagging sounds every time the white potato crossed her screen. “Kara could do so much better than him - she’s got two choices for crying out loud: Lena or James. And she went with this guy?”

“They’re not real, babe.” Kimberly whispers in her ear, pecking her neck before running her fingers through brown hair, caressing her neck every so often when Trini would curse at the screen. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Trini whines as she let herself lean back against her girlfriend’s chest. “My little brothers watch this, and look what he’s teaching them.”

“Baby,” Kimberly says with a sigh, a small chuckle escaping her lips, “just ignore it.”

“I can’t,” Trini points out, turning to look at her when the commercials began, “he’s shoved in my face every two seconds. Why can’t we go back to season one and add Sanvers? My babies are suffering, Kim.”

Trini glares at her girlfriend when she sees the tell-tale signs of a smile on her face. 

“Don’t,” Trini warns as she watches Kimberly cup her mouth, her smile big enough to spill over. “Stop it,” Trini says again as she shoves Kimberly’s shoulder lightly, but it only causes Kimberly to laugh out loud faster. Trini hates that she can’t actually be mad because she can’t help but think how beautiful the other girl is. She watches with wide eyes as Kimberly’s eyes squint and her lips pull upwards enough to see her white teeth. The melodious laugh making her heart speed up as a shiver threatens to run down her spine. Ugh, she hates her.

“Stop,” Trini says again, a smile now forming on her face. “Babe, stop or I’ll go watch with Zack - at least he doesn’t judge.”

That makes Kimberly laugh even harder. Trini huffs and crosses her arms, willing Kimberly to stop laughing with a seriously look. She’s not surprised when it doesn’t work, so she pushes herself up and crosses the room to the chair near the corner.

“I’m sorry,” Kimberly says between laughs, trying to pout but her laughter got in the way. The show comes back and they both quiet down. Trini tries to ignore the pair of eyes looking at her from across the room because she laughed at her when her smol children were in distress. She huffs again and it doesn’t take long before commercials begin again.

“Come on, babe,” Kimberly says with a pout as she stands and makes her way to Trini, extending her hand out for the other girl to grab, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t mean it.” Trini says with a scoff as she squares her shoulders and moves her jaw to show her irritation.

“I do,” Kimberly says, tugging on one of Trini’s arms until she pulls hard enough to stand her up, wrapping her arms around her waist as she tugs her in closer. “I mean it, I won’t laugh anymore. And I agree with you - Kara can find someone better.”

“Like Lena-”

“Or James.” Kimberly says and Trini can’t help the twitch of her lips as she stares at her girlfriend, her brown eyes hypnotizing. She tilts her head when Kimberly cups her cheek, her thumb rubbing softly against her skin. Trini rolls her eyes when she feels a shiver course down her spine because, really? Is this what love sick feels like? 

“Can we just get back to watching Supergirl? Maggie is going to be on soon and I can’t miss my wife.” Trini says as she pushes her way to her bed, climbing it and making herself comfortable.

“Excuse me?”


i think ½ @hyuncakes + @ongeuigeon tagged me in the childhood photos selfie thing, but ive also been tagged by @memelordjisung / @dxnghyuns / @kangdan101 / @l-guanlin / @p-arkwoojin / @nohtaehyun / @eon1bugi / @kimsjaehwan for a bunch of different selfie variations

(all of you are so cute!!!! i love 💕)

& apparently i have a thing for using the same angle and lowkey matching with my background??? lmao

i dont know if you guys have done this variation yet but i’ll tag you anyway lol:

@hasungswoon @kimjaehwanswife @ongsecngwoo @minhwangs @hwangminyeo