most beautiful face in the world

You’ll get to a point in your life when you realize it’s been months, years, decades… and you forgot to live. Life is not Instagram. Life is not Facebook., Life is not texting. Life is forgetting your phone at home, going on an adventure with people that mean the most to you, feeling, sensing, actually looking around at the world and it’s beauty instead of your screen, and coming home with a huge smile on your face and a story to tell your grandkids. I’d challenge anyone to stop picking up his or her phone, stop walking around the city looking down at it, and try to remember what you experienced when you were a child. The universe is so much more interesting than any Instagram or text will ever be.
—  Sonya Esman: “What advice would you give to girls influenced by social media?” on Bloggersissue.com
9

✧・゚: *✧・゚:*  Happy Birthday to The Love of My Life  *:・゚✧*:・゚✧

Happy Birthday to the most wonderful person in the world and the owner of my heart! I hope you’ll always be as happy as you make me and I wish to always see that beautiful smile on your face! You are such an amazing leader and don’t ever doubt yourself, you can always rely on us because we’ll always have your back and will always protect you. I love you sosososo much and I don’t know what else to say but thank you for being born and for making life better with your everlasting presence! Once again Happy Birthday and I love you 💕💕💕💕  #HAPPYIRENEDAY

Bravery is more powerful than perfection
Is this something you sense?
Your tangled thoughts being silenced
Is worth not taking a chance?


Bravery is more difficult than perfection
Is this something you find?
Painting the entire canvas
Is harder than colouring between the lines


Bravery is more honest than perfection
Is this something you rejoice?
While the world demands perfection
Being brave frees your voice


Bravery is more creative than perfection
Is this something you know?
The fear of failure stilling your pen
Keeps your inner world from being shown


Bravery is more beautiful than perfection 
Is this something you see?
Facing the world as your flawed self
Is the most beautiful you can be

—  Bravery > Perfection
I think I love you - Jughead Jones

Pairing : Jughead Jones x Reader

Word count : 1,484

Warnings : none

Requests are closed!

Originally posted by juptern

Your phone rang in the pocket of your jacket making you jump by surprise. You answered the call before showing your index to your friend Archie, meaning that it would only take a minute.

“Hi, this is (y/n) speaking.”

“Hey (y/n), how are you?” You instantly recognised the groggy voice behind the line.

“Jughead! I’m good! What about you?” From the corner of your eye, you would’ve swore you saw Archie rolling his eyes.

“Marvellous. So, what are you up to this evening? I thought we maybe could’ve hung out tonight. You know, me, you, at Pop’s?” You chuckled lightly.

“Sorry Juggie, I was planning on spending the night with Archie… You can tag along if you want? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” A small sigh made its way into your ear. You had to admit that you spent a lot of your recent time with your new red-haired friend. Jughead still occupied the position of best friend. He didn’t have to worry about it.

“I promise we’ll do something together tomorrow, alright?” It was silence for a while before you heard back,

“Yeah sure.” You pursed your lips, mentally cursing yourself. It wasn’t the first time that you had turned down your best of friend for Archie. Lately it had been happening more than before. It made you feel like the worst pal.

“See you.” With that, Jughead hung up. You understood how he felt. It wasn’t right that you weren’t spending as much time with him.

“Jughead, wasn’t it?” You looked up and saw Archie sprawled across the black beanbag in your bedroom. His hands were attached on the new acoustic guitar his dad had got him for his birthday. You nodded and played with the sleeves of you sweater. Your friend continued strumming the strings of his instrument.

“Hey- I wrote this song last week, and I wanted to know what you thought about it. I’ve been trying to talk to Josie about her playing some of my compositions, but she’s not that into it. You’re her friend, right? Maybe you could listen to it and try to talk to her?” He asked questioningly.

“Of course, go ahead.” His fingers moved to the tuners and accorded them as his other hand rested on the waist of the guitar. A few seconds later, a pleasant melody filled the room. Archie then started singing the lyrics he had written. The song wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was quite catchy. The redhead friend of yours had talent. Before Archie could go on, you blurted out something you soon would regret.

“I’ll probably spend the day with him tomorrow.” The small tune that Archie had started suddenly came to an end. Archie hadn’t spoken to Jughead since this summer. The tree of you and Betty we’re supposed to go on a road trip the fourth of July but Archie left you hanging at the last minute. Since then, the boys stopped talking completely. When you mentioned one of  them to the other, you saw the irritation and annoyance in their expression.

“I thought you were coming to my game tomorrow. I’m playing in the varsity football team this year, remember?” You bet your lip and fiddled your hair with your fingers.

“I’m sorry Arch. I haven’t seen Jughead in a while now and I don’t want him to feel like I stopped being his friend. I’m making a vow that I’ll show up to your next game, how about that?”

“Why does it always have to be about him? Everything constantly has to be about Jughead.” Your were caught off guard by the sudden raise in his voice.

“That’s not it… I’m just trying to do what’s best here.”

“By ditching me at the last minute, that’s how your making things better? I didn’t think of you as an inconsiderate and selfish person.” He replied bitterly. In all the time of you guy’s friendship, you had never seen this side of Archie. Usually, he would be sweet and just shrug off any problem that faced his way. But the words he had just told you, they hurt your heart. Your eyes were starting to fill up with tears and your bottom lip started quivering.

“I’ve spent all my time with you for the last month. You. Not Jughead. Why are you treating me like this?”

“You know what? I don’t want to spend any more of my time with you right now.” With that, Archie got up and left you alone in your room. Without even noticing, a trail of tears had made its way down your cheeks. A sob escaped your mouth and your hands covered your face as you poured your heart out. You laid in your bed and continued crying.

It was all your fault. Archie now hated you and would probably never talk to you again. Why did you had to be so stupid? If only you had kept your mouth shut. Maybe he still would have been on that beanbag, singing.

Maybe half an hour later, you heard the wooden creek of your door meaning that someone was coming in. You didn’t even move, your pillow pressed against your face. The mattress shifted to the side from the sudden weight that it now had on it. You felt a piece of your hair being put behind your ear. You smiled at the sweet gesture and assumed it was your mother. You slowly got up and saw Jughead sitting beside you. Automatically, you vaulted in his arms tearing up once again.

“Sssh. It’s going to be okay.” He rubbed your back comfortingly. Your forehead was against his chest, his two upper limbs protectively holding you. Your eyes were probably red from all the crying but you couldn’t care less. You continued sobbing in his chest until you eventually felt calmer.

“Why- Why are you here?” You asked with a small voice. Jughead gently whipped your cheek with his thumb.

“Your mom saw Archie leave in a rush and realized that you two probably had a fight. She heard you crying and thought that you would be more willing to speak about it with me than her.” You grinned at the boy.

“I ruined your shirt.” You noticed, and felt guilty.

“Nothing to worry about (y/n/n). I never liked that jersey anyway.” You giggle with your best friend. You sniffed and observed Jughead who his face was only about a foot away from you. You had to admit that he was good looking. His prefect blue eyes were mesmerising and his pink lips appeared so kissable. Forever you considered the boy as nothing more than a platonic relationship to you. Never had you ever felt anything for him. But in that moment, something clicked. Jughead wasn’t only a friend to you, not even a best friend.  A stronger feeling overwhelmed your body. You felt love. You loved Jughead Jones. 

He was the one who your mother called when you were sad. He was the one who came rushing to your house as soon as your mother hung up. He was the one who was holding you and comforting you, whispering sweet nothing to you as you were crying. He was the one who was there for you.

“Jughead.” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“(y/n)?” You asked yourself in your mind if it was the right time to confess your feelings towards him. Your breathing started quickening as the anxiety rose in your core.

“I think I-” He watched you with intending eyes, indicating to continue your phrase.

“I think I love you.” Jughead eyeballed you, astonished at your revelation. He quietly answered, almost inaudible for you to hear.

“I think I love you too.” He leaned towards you and slowly pressed his lips to yours. Fireworks were going off in your stomach. The heaviness on your shoulders disappeared. In this moment, nothing else mattered in the world. Both of your lips moved in sync as you played with his raven locks. His arms pulled you closer to him, leaving no space between you two. Jughead backed away and kissed every each of your face, including your cheeks, temple and chin.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispered in your ear. You gave him a last long peck on the lips before saying,

“Do you want to lay down and cuddle with me?” He moved his head up and down calmly and took a blanket that was already on the bed to cover you. Cuddling was not something new for the both of you. You had always cuddled together, and whenever. His hand ran through your hair bringing a comforting and fuzzy feeling. His body pressed behind your back and his hot breath was tingling your neck. Before you even knew it, you and Jughead had fallen in a deep slumber, both dreaming about each other.

*gif is not mine!!

Zach asking you to sleep over at his house - part 3

Warnings: graphic descriptions and images of sex/sexual activities. You’ve been warned my lovelies:) Enjoy!


Your P.O.V
The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, basking the room with its warmth. I was tightly cocooned in a strong pair of arms, my back pressed against a muscular chest. There were soft snores echoing in my ear. I turned my head slightly, to see who the culprit of this snoring was, finding the peaceful face of my sleeping boyfriend, Zach Dempsey. 

Originally posted by sensualkisses

‘That’s right… Me and Zach… We actually did it last night.’ A sense of giddiness overcomes me. I remember last night so vividly… 

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Things Saitama Has to Deal With
  • Having a cyborg as an alarm clock
  • Random bursts of loud shouting by Genos
  • The inability to ever tell his disciple “No”
  • Sometimes being stuck underneath a blazing furnace when he wakes up in the morning
  • A weakness for golden eyes
  • Keeping Genos from killing a bitch whenever someone insults Caped Baldy 
  • The constant smell of sardines in the fridge
  • The sexualization of a pink apron
  • Having to continually remind Genos to tone it down by like a thousand
  • Being stared at. Like all the time. 
  • The oddity that is teenage angst
  • The ridiculous and near constant desire to kiss the cyborg senseless
  • Having someone tagging along everywhere he goes and secretly liking it
  • People being genuinely frightened by Demon Cyborg but not being able to understand why because all Saitama sees is a 19 year old that hates wet socks
  • Making sure Genos doesn’t die on a daily basis
  • Having a fucking gorgeous model as a roommate and disciple and boyfriend 
  • Having to manage damage control whenever Genos roasts someone’s entire existence 
  • Oil stains. Everywhere.
  • Low key freaking out whenever he finds Genos in pieces after a battle
  • His heart doing a stupid thing whenever Genos smiles at him
  • Having to endure the fact that Genos often takes jokes at face value
  • His shirts being stolen and subsequently ripped of their sleeves 
  • The occasional need to cheer up a disheartened and broken orphan 
  • Waking up next to the most beautiful thing in the world every single day   
2

‘Beauty and the Beast’ includes Disney’s first gay character

  • Taken at face value, Attitude magazine’s “world exclusive” that Disney’s Beauty and the Beast remake will “make Disney history with gay character” is pretty exciting. 
  • The studio that has alluded to LGBTQ characters in their films, but never actually included them, is finally breaking ground.
  • But upon reading the article, it seems Attitude has overstated a bit. 
  • While LeFou, sycophantic sidekick to Beauty and the Beast antagonist Gaston, does seem to be queer, he hardly seems like an out gay character — and it looks like most of his story will be about fawning over a straight man. Read more (3/1/17 9:03 AM)
Legend of Korra Comic
  • Bad Guy: I'm going to do this bad evil thing and threaten the Avatar despite it not working out for anyone in the history of ever
  • Korra: (Walks up to him and slaps him hard in the face) Shut up, no one cares about you. The people want to see me making out with my girlfriend Asami who is the most beautiful woman in the world. We just started a relationship and I don't need any new stress
  • Bad Guy: But I-,
  • Korra: No serious sit down and shut up. I'm going to make out with my girlfriend for three books and then I'm going to beat you, your only purpose is to give this comic book a vague reason that isn't just me and my girlfriend falling in love!

2x08 coda because so much happened and my boys need to talk 

Once the others have finally poured out of his home, taking at least part of the nervous energy still lingering against the walls with them, it takes Magnus a few seconds to locate Alec and he feels a twinge of anxiety when he realizes that he’s left the safety of the loft in favor of the balcony. Even knowing he’s undone the spell that allowed his guests’ greatest fears and insecurities to fester, the thought of Alexander alone up there makes him vaguely nauseous, images of Alec’s graceful fall too fresh in his mind, too painful still, for him to bear it. 

If he had been a few seconds late… 

But Alec is nowhere near the ledge now. He’s sitting on the sofa, forearms resting on his thighs and head in his hands, fingers tensed and angry where they’re gripping his hair. 

It’s been a long evening for all of them, upsetting at its best and terrifying at its worst, and Magnus wishes there was an easy way to approach this, a simple phrase that could make it all better for both of them. 

He makes his way the couch carefully, steps loud enough to alert Alec of his presence, before letting his body drop heavily next to him. He links his fingers together between his legs, resisting the urge to touch Alec, to force him to look up so he can try and read his face. Instead, Magnus presses his thigh against Alec’s in what he hopes is a comforting manner. So much happened in so little time and he has no idea where he should even start.

He’s still trying to figure it out when Alec speaks first.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he says fiercely into his hands.

“Alec-” 

“I’m not,” he repeats and Magnus knows what’s hiding underneath, the guilt and anger of all the times Alec has felt he failed the people who matter the most to him.

“Hey,” Magnus says instead of replying, putting a careful hand on Alec’s body, adding a hint of magic to his touch, warmth and safety against the broadness of his back. “I know what you’re trying to say but that’s not on you.” 

“Yes, it is,” Alec argues, body tense like the string of his bow. 

“It’s on all of us,” Magnus argues, keeping his voice calm despite the anger boiling in his veins. “Shadowhunters, Downworlders…. we’re all going to pay for Valentine’s actions if he’s not stopped.” 

He still can’t quite believe Clary kept her secrets for so long when they all should have been working together to stop Valentine’s plan. 

“I know,” Alec replies, leaning into Magnus’ body for a second before taking his hands off his face and straightening his back. “I know that, but that’s not…” he sighs, frustrated. “That’s not what I meant.” 

It’s been a long time since Magnus has been on the other side of such fervent protectiveness and he shivers a little at the intensity of Alec’s determination, mind flickering to the charm he now carries everywhere. 

“The thought of losing you…” Alec continues, closing his eyes and shaking his head like he’s trying to convince himself that saying whatever he wants to say is okay, is allowed. “I just found you,” he says softly, trying again. “And thinking about what might happen to you…. it’s just… unbearable.” 

“Well now you know how I felt, seeing you out there,” Magnus replies seriously, gesturing towards the ledge, heart beating faster at the sound of Alec’s sincerity. “And I think you know I can easily take care of myself.” 

“I know,” Alec sighs. His eyes wander to the ledge for a second and he grimaces, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of talking about it, but aware that he can’t say nothing, that Magnus won’t be satisfied by that. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” he whispers. “The spell messed with my head, it’s true but I.. I don’t… I don’t want to talk about Clary or Jocelyn. Please.”

Magnus waits for a second, looking into Alec’ anguished face, his closed eyes and defeated posture, and he wishes he could drop it, he really does. 

“You’re not weak Alexander.” 

Alec flinches, trying to move away from Magnus’ body but he’s too quick, moving both of his hands to grip Alec’s shoulders. 

“Letting a demon in,” Magnus whispers directly into Alec’s ear, “feeling consumed by guilt… even failure; none of those things make you weak.”

“Magnus,” Alec begs shakily. 

There are things magic can’t fix, memories that burn deeply within Alec’s core that only time can soothe and no matter how powerless Magnus feels, he has to accept it. 

“Okay,” he whispers before kissing Alec’s shoulder, right next to where his thumb is still digging into the flesh. He lets go slowly, starting to move away from Alec when he feels him grabbing his hand. 

“Thanks,” Alec says, voice small but grateful. “And I’m sorry about tonight.” 

“That wasn’t your fault.” 

“I mean about my mother… and Max,” Alec says with a gulp, eyes wide and sad.

Magnus smiles softly. “I knew what to expect from Maryse when I agreed to throw this party, Alexander. And Max is just a curious child.” 

“Yes but…” Alec hesitates for a second before inhaling deeply and exhaling. “I’m still sorry if he made you feel uncomfortable,” he says after a few seconds, reaching up to stroke Magnus’ temple with a few calloused fingers, stopping in the corner of his eye. 

Magnus feels his smile slipping and he wishes he could hold on to it, wishes he could pretend for a few more seconds, but he feels exposed, cracked open, and Alec has already taken a peek at the rawness inside. 

“I’m more worried I made you uncomfortable,” Magnus admits in a small voice. 

“What?” Alec frowns, looking sincere and offended and isn’t that the most incredible thing. “No, no. You could never make me uncomfortable,” he says vehemently. “Not for that,” he adds softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss in the corner of Magnus’ eyes. 

Magnus leans into the touch, appreciating the warmth of Alec’s body against his, the warmth of his reassuring words. 

“A lot of people have been,” he admits and he wasn’t planning on saying that until it slipped right out of his mouth. He can feel Alec exhale against his skin, heated and tickling. 

“I can’t imagine how,” Alec replies and Magnus turns his head to face him, letting the glamour drop easily. Alec gasps in response, a tiny thing that doesn’t sound disgusted or overwhelmed. “You’re so…” he smiles, cheeks reddening. 

“So what?” Magnus asks, curious now that Alec’s face is painted with embarrassment. 

“Kind,” he replies like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Oh,” Magnus says in a small voice and he has been called many things in his lifetime but he’s rarely been called kind, even if he’s always tried to be.

 “Clever,” Alec continues, hazel eyes bright with intensity. “Beautiful. Powerful.”

“Alright,” Magnus chuckles, putting a hand on Alec’s chest to try and stop him.

“I just mean…. that it’s another part of you and there’s isn’t a part of you I haven’t liked so far.” 

“Oh Alexander,” Magnus teases, a hint self-deprecating, “that will come.” 

“And I’m looking forward to it. To get to know all the parts of you that fit with me and all the parts that don’t… and all the ways we’re gonna work to be together despite those.” 

Alec clears his throat and lets his gaze wander to where their legs are still touching. He starts fidgeting like maybe he didn’t mean to reveal this much and Magnus is almost glad that he broke their eye contact because it gives him the time to blink a couple of times and stop himself from crying. 

There are so many things that Magnus could say, so many feelings intertwining in his chest. Instead, he grabs the lapel of the suit he carefully chose for Alec and drags him into a bruising kiss, swallowing the way Alec sighs and moans so beautifully. 

They’re still pretty lucky, despite it all. 

“I’m a 35-year-old virgin. I’ve never even kissed anyone. My journey began when I was in high school, and I felt like I was in a tempestuous ocean—there were cycles of intense depression mixed with cycles of insatiable lust and hormones that would overwhelm me.

I was disgusted with myself that mere ounces of fat on the chest and mere millimeters of bone on the face were guiding who I was and what I wanted. I didn’t think that that’s what I found most beautiful, and I was trying to understand what is beauty at its core.

As I began to examine the world, I started to see people who were wrecking their lives with affairs and relationships. One of the ideas that came out was that before you can balance multiple variables and have a working relationship, you have to master happiness within yourself. So I set out to detach from pretty much everything—relationships, good food, comfort, and just focus on my soul so that I can generate happiness from within.

It was a battle, but by the time I hit 25, I was happy not being in a relationship, and not having too many material possessions. I could respect anyone else who had a relationship and I saw that as a beautiful thing, but I didn’t need to be in one myself.

In our society, it seems that romance is key to living a healthy and happy life. From my experience as a 35-year-old guy who has never had a romantic relationship, it’s not essential. It’s an important and beautiful part of life, but if you don’t have a relationship, it doesn’t mean that you can’t find life beautiful and pleasurable.”

Lexington, MA

3

The Court of Dreams (4/?) / Cassian

First Cassian and Azriel appeared in the doorway. The High Lord’s general and Shadowsinger – and the most powerful Illyrians in history.

“Can he beat you?” – “Hand-to-hand combat? Yes. He’d have to earn it for a change, but he’d win. Cassian is the best warrior I’ve encountered in any court, any land. He leads my armies because of it.

“I’ve witnessed Cassian rip apart opponents and then puke his guts up once the carnage stopped, sometimes even mourn them.”

“I saw Cassian trudging through the mud (…) bastards are given nothing: they find their own shelter, own food. If they survive and get picked to be in a war-band, they’ll be bottom-ranking forever, but recieve their own tents and supplies. But until then he’d stay in the cold.” – “Those mountains,” Azriel added, his face hard as ice,” offer some of the harschest conditions you can imagine.”

- please do not use edits/manips without asking -

This piece of Cassian-meta is the most beautiful thing ever written. Thank you @highfaelucien, my dear Third, for blessing the world with this.

sana gets home by herself and she hears her mother and her father talking in the living room and she takes off her shoes and her mother asks “who is it?” and sana takes a deep breath before she says “it’s me” because she wants to sound like her usual self, she doesn’t want her parents to suspect anything, she wants to seem like she’s fine

but then she’s in her room and she’s so tired, she’s emotionally exhausted and she doesn’t even have the strength to get changed. and she just sits on the edge of her bed and her breathing is shaky and she’s trying not to cry because she knows that she won’t be able to stop if she does. it’s too much, all of it. elias and his friends fighting with isak’s friends, and isak being hurt, and noora and yousef, and all the horrible things these girls said about her in the toilet, and how dare they. how dare say they say that she disrespected her religion when she has never felt anything but immense respect and love and appreciation toward it, when it’s always been so important to her. and not only getting the confirmation that sara betrayed her, but also vilde. despite all the chances she has given her, despite being there for her countless times. and why why why does this keep happening to her, why do people keep treating her that way when all she’s ever wanted was to be a good person, when her own intentions have been nothing but good all along and it’s just 

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Muse

Originally posted by sugutie

Genre: Smut, fluff, angst (it will contain smut in the next parts)

a/n: The story will have another part. So dont worry, im not cutting you off

Description:Jungkook is a  photography major in collaage. Every girl likes him yet he only has eyes for his camera, until he -even tho he hasnt realized it yet-  finds his muse.

Part1 Part 2  Part3

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BTS REACTION TO YOU SITTING ON THEIR LAP...

anon said : Bts reacting to you sitting on their lap smudging their faces calling them cute please :3 


Namjoon: He stayed still when you sat on his lap, his hands coming up to lightly hold onto your hips. He was confused, unsure of what you wanted… However, he could only laugh and his face broke out into a smile when you squished his cheeks together and called him cute. He felt his face heat up and he became unnaturally shy and flustered.

“Ahh, you’re cute to Y/N,” he stammered, his eyes trying to meet yours.

Originally posted by rapnamu

Seokjin: He hadn’t been paying attention to the movie the two of you were watching and you could tell. His eyes were unfocused, his soft lips parted slightly. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you climbed onto his lap, his eyes immediately becoming focused again. You squished his cheeks together, planting a tiny kiss on his puckered mouth before pulling back, telling him you thought he was cute when he was unfocused like that. He shook his head slightly, trying to speak even though his face was still smushed between your hands. 

“You’re cute too you weirdo.”

Originally posted by bwiseoks

Yoongi: He tried to seem unamused when you plopped down on his lap after a long day. He didn’t say anything. His hands came up to rest on your thighs, soft and uncertain. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what he wanted. Your hands ran through his hair before coming down to squish his cheeks. You mumbled something about him being a cute, hard working boyfriend, you lips placing a soft kiss on his forehead as you released his face. He simply smiled back, suddenly bashful. 

“I’m glad the most beautiful person in the world thinks that…”

Originally posted by cyyphr

Hoseok: You sitting on his lap was nothing new. In fact, the two of you often cuddled like that with you straddling him, your head nuzzled into his neck, his hands wrapped tightly around you. This time, you didn’t stay for long. You simply sat down, squishing his cheeks together and murmuring out a soft “cute” before you told him your plans for the day. He nodded, listening. His face felt warm but it was with happiness, not embarrassment. You got off of him, gathering your things and heading for the door when he called after you.

“Be safe and have fun Y/N! I love you!”

Originally posted by park-jimizzle

Jimin: Usually when you sat on his lap you wanted something. He giggled quietly when you sat down on his lap, bouncing his legs slightly. He waited patiently for you to tell him your demands but you simply smushed his cheeks together, telling him you thought he was cute and looking extra soft lately. He couldn’t help but blush and smile shyly, somehow unable to make eye contact with you.

“Thank you Y/N~”

Originally posted by bwipsul

Taehyung: He stopped moving the second you sat on his lap, his face immediately heating up and a small giggle slipping through his lips. You scrunched up your face, shaking your head. Your hands came up to squish his cheeks in, his mouth still trying to form a smile…

“How are you always so cute?” you asked.

He simply let out an odd sounding laugh, pulling you closer to him.

“I should be asking you the same thing Y/N.”

Originally posted by bwipsul

Jungkook: He turned beet red and became shy as hell when you sat down on his lap. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to cuddle… or if you wanted sex. So he simply sat still, staring straight ahead. You couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he looked, your original intention cast aside. You squished his cheeks together, making him blush slightly.

“Jeon Jungkook, you are way too cute. Did you know that?” you asked, releasing his face.

He pulled you closer to him, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Hmm… I know.”

Originally posted by yourpinkpill

Tidal Wave. (Tom Holland Imagine)

Sorry for the absence… yet again. Regular uploads will be brought back probably late May whenever school is finally out for me. Until then posts will be arbitrary… I hope you don’t mind.

TRIGGER WARNING: Depression, self harm, suicidal thoughts, low-self esteem, strong language, etc (Let me know if I missed any)

This is a little something I put together when I was going through something a while back. If you or a loved one are going through something like this shown in this imagine (Really just suicidal thoughts, depression, anxiety, etc.), please call this suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255

If you ever need someone to talk to and you feel uncomfortable calling this number, feel free to contact me personally. (Please don’t use anon because I don’t want to post it for the internet to see)

As for permission before reposting on another platform.


Originally posted by spiderholland


You’re so ugly. 

You aren’t good enough.

Why do you even exist?

He doesn’t love you. 

The world will be better off without you. 

You sat in the dimmest part of your bedroom, your head in your hands and the blade beside you. You knew going back into that old habit was terrible. But at times like these, it was hard to have any self-control.

The thoughts weren’t sparked by comments from some of Tom’s fans that despised you. You “got used” to them, but nevertheless, you deleted your Instagram and snapchat minutes before your emotional breakdown. 

Really, nothing really triggered you into this. You woke up today and thought. I’m not okay. Why am I not okay? You thought about your life. You were in college, which was well payed for by your family. You’re dating a freaking celebrity. So why did you feel this way? 

Tears rolled down your face as the dark thoughts pounded against your skull. You’ve thought about this plenty of times as a young teen. And you thought about if you actually went through with your initial plan, you wouldn’t have met Tom. You wouldn’t have fallen in love. 

But here you are. In love. Yet so broken. But rest assured it wasn’t his fault in any way. 

The thoughts. The self doubt. The self hatred. The loathing. The depression. The need to dig the blade into your wrist to make a deep vertical cut.

It all hit you like a Tidal Wave. 

Do it. 

No one will miss you. 

Just one cut. Doesn’t even have to be too deep.

You aren’t good enough. 

They hate you.

He hates you. 

You’re just a parasite to him.

And before you could stop yourself, you grabbed the blade and slashed at your skin four times. You stared in horror as the blood dripped from your skin to the beige carpet. Your breath was shaky as you dropped the blade and broke into sobs. 

Then you heard him. 

“Babe? You won’t believe what happened at the park with these squirrels!” Tom’s accent rang through your flat. You shot up, picking the razor up and throwing in the trash bin, slicing your finger tips in the process. You grabbed some tissues and plopped them on top of the blood stains, cursing at yourself. 

“You dumb fuck.” You muttered to yourself, realizing that those stains will never come out. Tom called for you again, you hear Tessa’s barking becoming louder as she smelled your blood. “Just a minute, Tommy!” You called back, practically slamming your fistful of tissue onto the stains. “Dumb fuck.” You muttered at yourself once again. 

Then you heard the door swing and Tom say. “What the fuck?” You kept your back towards him, your bleeding wrist held tightly against your chest, as you kept cleaning. “Babe what did you spill?”

“N-nothing.” You whispered, wiping away, the tissues tearing apart. 

He walked over to you. Tessa pushed past him and onto the bloodstains, howling and barking. Tom turned you around to see your nightshirt covered in blood along with your bloody wrist and hands. “What did you do?” He said in horror. He hates you. The voice hisses again. 

And that’s when you burst into tears. 

The silence was filled with Tessa’s alert barks as you collapsed into Tom’s arms in tears. He pried your arm from your chest to see the four scars bleeding but not enough to were it was life threatening. He got up. He’s going to leave you. He hates you. But to your surprise, he helped you up too. 

Tom walked the both of you to the bathroom where he had you put your wrist against the running faucet. He then washed them for you. Then Tom fetched a huge bandage and covered it. 

Tom finally broke the silence. “Why?” He asked, his jaw tight.

You exhaled a shaky breath before saying. “I-I don’t know.”

“Damn it, (Y/N)!” Tom yelled as he began to cry, his hands slamming on the bathroom counter, making you flinch. He immediately noticed and apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, love. I-I just want to know why.” You stayed silent. “I want to know why you, the most caring, selfless, beautiful, amazing, sweetest girl would do that.” There was more silence. “Is it because of me? Am I not around enough? Am I not good enough?” 

“No!” You exclaimed. “You’re the caring one. You’re the selfless one. You’re the amazing one. You’re the most attractive person in the world. And I’m wondering if I’m not good enough for you. Am I a charity to you, Holland?”

“No.” He said, pulling you into him, hugging you tightly. 

“Then why are you dating someone like m-me? I’m normal. I’m ugly. I’m not perfect. I do this. Why are you with me when you can have literally anyone better?” You asked as you cried. 

Tom pulled away, pushing fallen pieces of hair from your face. “You are beautiful. You’re the love of my life and I don’t want you or anyone else to hurt you. Okay? I love you so much. Please never again. I’m here, baby. I’m always here.” 

Hate To See You Go (Grayson)

Summary: Based off of this ask. You’re a teacher at Grayson’s daughter’s kindergarten and it’s Mother’s Day.
Word Count: 4,463
Warnings: Actual daddy!Gray. Daddy kink (if you squint).
A/N: I swear, I received this ask 3 weeks ago and it’s still stuck on my mind. So I hope you like this, leave feedback if you want to!! This turned out to be longer than intended, yikes xx


The first time you saw Grayson Dolan was when his daughter, Penelope fell off a swing during recess and scraped her knee. She’d cried as you stroked her hair, pointing at her bloody knee while telling you of how she’d tried to stand up on the swing, her foot slipping in process which had caused her to fall off. It wasn’t that bad. In fact, it was a small scrape but it still made your heart squeeze in your chest when you looked over her tear-stained face, her hand squeezed into a small fist as she rubbed her eye.

You’d taken her to your own classroom, calling her father in the process. His voice had sounded deep and it kind of shocked you for a moment. It had been two months since the term had started and Penelope had been brought to kindergarten by her Aunt Cameron. You’d been so curious as to why her father was never around, but Penelope had explained how her father was working early hours and he never had time to take her to preschool; which, you never frowned over that because there were plenty of parents who worked their butts off, having a relative or even a nanny drop their children off in your classroom.

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