anonymous asked:

Why do you love pete so much

I’ve been wanting to post this for so long but I’ve never had the guts, so here goes!! This is going to be a really long answer please prepare yourself… 

  • I love Pete because he is legitimately the best person ever, he’s so down to earth, humble and has such a great sense of humour. Also he sticks up for everyone he loves and he’s loyal as fuck.
  • I’m pretty sure everyone can relate to some of his lyrics. I know they’ve helped me through so much and they’ve helped so many other people as well. Also Pete loves that, like whenever people ask him what it’s like to know you’ve saved peoples lives he says it’s awesome and he was saved in the process as well, what an angel. (tweet)
  • I don’t want to sound like really cliché and emo, but some of the stuff he says really makes me feel better. Especially quotes like this one which is probably my favourite quote ever, also Here’s To The Kids, I mean okay I know everyone takes the piss out of that because yes it’s emo but honestly I love that quote so much because I’ve lived a life of being misunderstood by pretty much everyone and it’s just nice to know someone /gets/ you. Also more recently in a tumblr post Pete wrote ‘Fall Out Boy has always been about inclusion. If you don’t fit in anywhere, you can fit in here.’ This is SO important to me because I’ve always felt like I don’t fit in anywhere. I’ve always had a lot of friends but I’ve still felt uncomfortably different, so it’s nice to feel like I belong somewhere.
  • He’s had a really long history with depression and bipolar disorder, it got to the point where he tried to kill himself in 2005 and that is probably my favourite thing about him (which sounds ridiculous, I know) but the fact he was at absolute rock bottom and tried to end his life but managed to get over that and managed to get through his depression no matter how serious it was is just downright the most inspiring thing, and although I’ve never been in a similar situation I know there are many people across the world who’ve been helped through their depression thanks to Pete.
  • Furthermore, his parents got separated when he was younger, he mentions it in this video as it being his worst childhood memory and this is a thing that’s helped me personally. My parents split when I was younger and it really effected me, so it helps knowing your favourite human on the entire planet went through something similar and still ended up okay.
  • He does so much charity work, he’s such a good person for example in this picture he is giving a homeless man a bag of food just because he felt like it, Pete pls……

  • He’s also been working with Invisible Children since 2006/7 like the main thing being shooting the ‘I’m Like a Lawyer’ music video in Uganda to try and raise awareness of the whole LRA/kony situation. He also took part in a campaign called Displace Me, where 65k people across the USA slept on the streets in makeshift camps and shelter type things trying to recreate what the LRA camps are like in Uganda to help try and raise awareness of what its like for the kids there.

  • Leading on from the depression/bipolar point, he spoke about his experiences and difficulties for the ‘Half of Us’ scheme, helping people everywhere with depression and suicide basically making people feel okay to not be okay and make sure they know they’re not alone. This is awesome because he managed to speak about his serious personal problems to try and help other people which not only is very difficult (because imagine how hard you find it talking to friends/family about your issues, imagine telling the world), but also a very good use of his power as a high profile public figure. (if you haven’t seen it you should really watch his videos)
  • Additionally, he took part in Larry King’s Disaster in the Gulf telethon trying to raise money for the Mexican people affected by the oil spill on the Mexican gulf, answering calls and accepting money from the people who were donating:

  • He is a supporter of Unicef, and ages ago he took part in a campaign trying to raise money for Haiti after the disaster there due to the earthquake. (you can read about that here if you want)
  • Fall Out Boy took part in the PSA for to try and raise awareness about global warming and trying to make people do something to prevent it from happening. (video)
  • Pete is a supporter of LGBTQ+ and took part in the ‘No H8′ photo campaign, a campaign aiming to end homophobia, transphobia etc.
  • Additionally, Fall Out Boy made their views about gay marriage very clear in their latest music video ‘Uma Thurman’. (Pete wrote in a tumblr post ‘We hope you can support the hidden message at the end of our video’). You can read about it here.
  • Every single person I’ve spoken to about meeting Pete have said he is lovely to fans which I wouldn’t doubt for a second because he always does random acts of kindness to fans. For example, you might not remember but he does stuff like he dressed up as the Easter Bunny and gave the queueing Fall Out Boy fans pieces of chocolate. (video
  • Also, he’s good to fans because he never denies people a photo. Look this photo was taken like a while ago and look at all the shit hes carrying and he has Bronx (his son) with him as well, but he still stops and takes a photo like no other celebrities would do that, well not many anyway.

  • Basically this post about one of his book signings made my heart explode.

  • On the subject of his book I don’t know if you’ve read his book Grey but it was the most EMOTIONAL thing I’ve ever read. It explains his life so much and lets you inside his head. It explains loads of Fall Out Boy lyrics so you should definitely read it because it made me love him 900x more than I already did, which was a lot. It has a lot of good quotes, including: ‘I wonder if killing yourself is the only thing you can control in your entire life, and that’s why it’s a sin. Because you’re beating God at his own game.’ (the book is quite dark)
  • He is a really great dad and loves his sons Bronx and Saint more than anything. He stated in the past that having children is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to him because it helped him become less selfish as he believes in his 20s he was ‘the most selfish person alive’ (I disagree, look at all the stuff you’ve just read!) but he appreciates his children for developing him as a person. Also, Pete was heavily depressed again in 2010 following his divorce with Ashlee Simpson and has said Bronx is a main reason he pulled through it. Basically he’s as dependent on his children as they are on him.

  • He’s helped loads of musicians make it, for example Panic! at the Disco (another favourite band of mine), Cobra Starship, Travie McCoy/ Gym Class Heroes, etc.  through his record label Decaydance and collaboration with Fueled By Ramen, so basically he’s enabled other musicians to achieve their dreams through his fame, and has therefore helped a whole lot of other people. (e.g people who are inspired by Brendon Urie from Panic! at the Disco)
  • One final thing, he really fucking loves Fall Out Boy fans.

A main point to remember is he is a super famous rock star who has been absolutely trashed by the media and the internet and pretty much everyone who isn’t a Fall Out Boy fan, yet he’s stayed true to himself and still as lovely as he was when Fall Out Boy started, if not lovelier. Keep that in mind because I can assure you there are not many celebrities who have experienced the same attention, fame, media backlash and abuse that Pete has who has stayed a lovely genuine person that he always has been.

Looking back over the past 8 years of loving Pete and Fall Out Boy, it’s amazing to see him grow as a person and become a better version of himself every day. The point is that people (myself included) thought Pete wouldn’t make it past 27 because he was so sad and so hooked on drugs and 7 years later he’s got his amazing band back, the best friends ever, two incredible sons and a beautiful girlfriend. I swear to god if that doesn’t give you hope in life nothing will, I am so so so proud of Pete Wentz.

also tweets like thisthisthisthisthisthis and this make me cry because he’s my favourite person ever

And when he’s not being inspirational and wordy he’s a complete sweetheart (pic) (tweet) (tweet) (tweet) (tweet) (tweet) (video) (video) and also just (video)

Okay to summarise:

  • His life has been shit at points
  • He got through that shit
  • That makes everyone feel like they can get through their own shit 
  • He’s a great humanitarian and does loads of charityowrk and makes the most of his impact on society by raising awareness to issues/fundraising events
  • He’s so LOVING to his friends for example Gabe, Brendon, Patrick, Meagan
  • He’s never been phased by fame or hate from the media and has always stayed true to himself.

Pete Wentz, I love you forever. 



As promised an update is here ^_^ sorry it’s pretty short this time I hope to post tomorrow. It’s just that tumblr has a 10 picture limit and I like to make sure each update stops nicely. oh, also the reason why I can’t do any weekday updates is cause I’m taking a class and I get back super late. I’ve also been thinking of doing another huge “construction” to this comic but man it’s gonna be a pain to do. Well I should start it sooner than later before things this comic gets too long tbh

Part 37

Start from Beginning


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Gruvia’s Off-Panel Development

Gruvia has a lot of development on-panel, such that there is no doubt about how far Gray and Juvia’s relationship has come. They’ve developed a strong and intimate bond over time, and its progression has been nothing short of natural and consistent. Moreover, the subtleties in their interactions hint that their relationship has grown even more off-panel, such that it has even more depth and dimension, and that’s what I’d like to discuss here. 

As usual, I’ve placed the contents of this post under the cut for various reasons. Thanks for reading! 

Keep reading

One Proposal or Two

Genre: Fluff and more fluff                                                                

Summary: Dan has been planning to propose to Phil in Japan for months. But, Phil has secretly been doing the same.

Warnings: pretty sure there are none

Word Count: 2,656

Prompt: semi based on this:

Author’s Note: So, I’m pretty nervous to post this because it is my first ever phanfic, but I’m going for it! Comments, both positive and constructive, are always welcome (: Thanks for reading!

Keep reading

Sibling Theory?

Okay, I’ve been just started watching Endride and whilst I was watching the second episode I noticed a couple of things that hint towards Emilio and Shun being related, namely siblings. I’m not sure if anyone else has said anything about it yet but I thought I’d post my findings here anyway just in case ^^

This is a pretty young Emilio being given what looks like a dagger of sorts by who I presume is his father or someone of that calibre. It has a red dragon emblem on it which I also presume is the Kingdom/Countries’ crest.

Emilio is seen picking the dagger up in the first episode. He then goes out of his way to use it as the weapon for avenging his father, instead of his relic which would perhaps be easier to an extent, which further hints towards it being an heirloom or gift from his late father.

Then we have this little cutie, baby Shun, who is seen to be wearing a bracelet with the exact same crest on it. So, if Shun was born on the surface and had no prior knowledge of Endora, why is he being shown wearing something that bears the emblem of the Kingdom: wearing the royal crest is generally reserved for official royalty, like Emilio. This shot proves that he at least has some form of connection with the country at the centre of the Earth.

I also went back to the first episode to check a few things and spotted it here at the very beginning. As stated before; why would Shun own something that clearly belongs to Endora if he had never been there before?

Shun also has a huge fixation/interest in crystals. He seems to be very well known by the owner of the crystal shop who even comments that he ‘sure is obsessed with this stuff’ aka the crystals. The shopkeeper also seems to trust Shun to certain degree, allowing him to handle his wares without having to pay for them, etc. which further cements the fact that he is a recurring customer or at least visitor of the shop. 

But what has this got to do with his connection to Endora? Well as properly witnessed in episode two, Endora is thriving with crystals. From their own crystal version of the sun (Adamas) to their creatures.

I guess the point I’m trying to get at is that Shun perhaps has such an obsession with crystals is because he maybe subconsciously remembers them from him time in Endora. Though after re-watching the first episode, it could simply just come down to the fact that his parents are/were involved with them too. I just thought that it fit nicely with the theory :)

Furthermore, the crystal that Shun finds in his father’s office at the beginning of the first episode is perhaps a hint also. It was kept in a special display cabinet so it was obviously pretty special, but more importantly, someone must have handled it in order to put it there in the first place. However, we see that the minute Shun picks it up, he is teleported to Endora and the crystal (having been seemingly absorbed by him) disappears with him. This begs the question of why the crystal reacted to him and not the person or people who had handled it prior, whether to study it or place it in its display cabinet. What was so special about Shun that it chose to teleport him instead of someone else?

I had a couple of bits on the fact that Shun can use a warp relic and his rapidly growing ability to use it but that was sorta shot down when I re-watched the first episode and saw him absorb the crystal, which most likely would have granted him the ability to use a Warp Relic.

Anyway, that’s about it just now but feel free to call bs on the theory. Also, if you guys noticed anything else or have a different theory please tell me, I want to know what you all think ^^

An Invader Zim-type story where Smith is an alien, Ross is a werewolf and Trott is a super genius kid in a walrus suit going to school where they deal with some pretty interesting folks. I’m not sure how else to describe it.

Okay so, I saw a post not long ago that talked about drawing Smith as an irken. That kind of inspired this.

Gah how long has it been since I drew Invader Zim style? I don’t even remember. Oh well it was fun to do.

Not sure if I’ll finish them. I like them all sketchy :D

I got Kim and Duncan drawn out too so I’ll post them next.

Surprise - Neymar

It’s been so loooooong! Hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday, and is enjoying the new year so far! This OS is based off of the other Neymar OS I did a while ago, so here’s the link to that:

If you haven’t read this one yet, then I recommend doing so, as it makes this one make slightly more sense (I think). If you don’t, oh well, no harm done :) Enjoy!

“So, you have everything, right? Pajamas, toothbrush, underwear, your ticket…”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve got enough crap to stay for a month,” you snort, balancing your iPhone between your ear and your shoulder as you hoist your suitcase into the trunk of the cab. Despite the warm, wintery layers you’ve stowed away in your luggage, the weather in Brazil is warm and humid, and the thin white t-shirt you’re wearing sticks to your back with sweat as you climb into the backseat. Rafa blabs on about double checking that you’ve got your passport and ticket for the fifteenth time, and you roll your eyes, smiling sweetly at the driver as you direct him to the airport.

“I know, I know, I’m totally talking your ear off, but I swear, if you’re not walking out that gate and running into my arms in exactly twelve hours, somebody is going to have to pay.”

“Hopefully not me,” you tease, grinning as you add, “because I’d hate for our reunion to be any less romantic than what you just described!”

“What can I say,” Rafa sighs dramatically, and you can envision her throwing a perfectly manicured hand across her forehead for full effect. “I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend. Oh wait, my best-friend-slash-future-sister-in-law. Can you imagine the headlines on that?”

“HA. Funny. Either of you should be so lucky!” You pull a face as you search through the contents of your backpack for your passport and ticket, pulling them out one last time, per Rafaella’s request, to make sure that everything’s in order. “Y’know, there’s no guarantees that this ticket isn’t just a one-way flight to Siberia where I can make my living wrestling bears and tigers and shit. I hear the vodka’s pretty awesome.”

“Yeah, well, not as awesome as me,” she sings. “Or tequila. Or Barcelona, and hot Spanish men. Well, maybe just my brother in your case. Who, by the way, has about as much of a clue that you’re coming as my dad had when I threw that party at the house when I was sixteen.”

“That is a terrible analogy!” you cry, laughing at the memory. “Your dad definitely knew about that as soon as he walked through the door. The man sniffs disruption, Raf, he was just tired of trying to get us in trouble when he knew we’d keep on doing the same things anyways!”

“Okay, okay, fine! Then Neymar has about the same idea that you’re literally getting on a flight right now to come and jump him that Luke had about Leia being his sister during that glorious makeout sesh. Boom.”

“Ugh. That one’s even worse.” The drive to the airport is a short one, and you can already see the faint outline of the buildings and runways in the distance. Two weeks. It will be two weeks until you see this place again, and as always, you’re already dreading coming home alone before you’ve even left. 

“Are you there yet?” Rafa chirps. “I want to stay on the phone with you, but at the same time, the sooner we hang up the sooner you’ll be here. What do you want to do once I pick you up? We could go get food, or go shopping, or—“

No, I’m not there yet, and honey, I don’t even know if the flight is going to be on time. I hope I get there on time, but seeing as it’s ten-plus hours of airline food and recirculated air, I’m probably going to want one thing when I land: a big, fat, half-a-day nap. With my fuzzy blanket, which you stole, and have yet to give back.”

“That blanket was loaned! Ugh, you’re going to be so boooooring. Promise you’ll do something fun with me when you come back to the land of the living?”

“Promise. Hey, Rafa, I gotta go. I’m pulling up to the airport right now.”

“Text me as soon as you land! And get some sleep! I’ll be here to tackle you when you get here.” You smile, the muscles in your shoulders relaxing as her words sink in. You’re going to Barcelona. You’re going to see Rafaella and Neymar, and you’ll get to see everything they’ve told you so much about. Hell, you’ll be able to go on a real date, and the thought alone makes your smile widen.

“I will. See you soon, I’m sending hugs through the phone.” 

You hang up and unload your luggage onto the curb, paying the cabbie before pulling your things up to the check-in desk. The plane won’t be ready for another hour, so you disappear into the bathroom to change into your favorite pair of Nike sweats and one of Neymar’s old hoodies. Sure, Rafa may have stolen your favorite blanket, but you were plenty guilty of theft as well, especially when it came to your boyfriend’s clothes.

The gate is practically empty, so you sprawl out across a row of seats, pulling out your phone to play a few games and check Instagram before boarding begins. You like a few photos of your friends, repost one that your boss put up from a shoot the two of you had done the other day, and pause on Neymar’s post from that morning. It’s a sweet picture of him and his Pai, but you’re hesitant to like it. You’d always known that you and Neymar lived in different worlds. Even back at Santos, he’d always had a following, the media tracking every move he made, and once he’d made the move to Barça, the amount of attention he received has only been amplified. You’d had your own share of experiences with fans and photographers, as they often sought Rafaella out at games that you’d gone to, but at this point, the two of you hadn’t brought your relationship public. 

And if you were being honest with yourself, the idea of putting yourself out there to the world as Neymar’s girlfriend scared you. You’d become friends with Carolina when her and Neymar had gotten together, and had seen firsthand the backlash that she’d had to deal with, especially with being Davi’s mom. The tabloids were rarely kind, and Twitter and Instagram were a platform for all kinds of judgement and negative opinions. You’d been lucky to have so much time in your own little bubble, but something told you that this trip would mark the end of privacy between the two of you and the world.

The plane boards on time, and as soon as you settle into your seat in business class, each and every hour of overtime that you worked hard for is worth it. Thirty two extra hours spent behind the screen of an iMac on Photoshop? The extra legroom and enhanced reclining abilities of a non-economy seat definitely overshadow the carpal tunnel and sleep deprivation you’ve been living with for the past three weeks.

Ah, if only you could think so optimistically all the time.

It’s a long and boring flight, filled with movies (two crappy chick-flicks and one decent murder mystery), half a pack of spearmint gum, and a choppy couple of hours of on-and-off sleep with an itchy blanket. You wake up to a golden sunrise, though, and the coffee the flight attendants bring around isn’t too awful with a few packets of sugar. 

Before long, after you’ve cramped yourself in the bathroom to brush your teeth and freshen up a bit, pulling your sleep mussed hair into a ponytail, the plane starts to descend, and your face is glued to the window as Barcelona comes into view. The city takes your breath away, cradled against the sparkling waters of the sea, and you can already see why so many call it home. 

As soon as you’ve landed you shoot your best friend a text, gathering your things and stuffing them into your backpack hastily. The door to the plane opens, and with it comes a gust of chilly air that has you thanking your thievery skills for snatching up the oversized sweatshirt you’ve got on. Your phone buzzes as you make your way off the plane, walking slowly behind a middle aged couple that fought quietly in front of you for most of the flight, but when you get to the gate and look around, you can’t find Rafa’s familiar, smiling face. 

Five, ten, fifteen minutes go by, and you stand at the gate with what you can only imagine is a rather hopeless expression on your face the entire time, until you finally decide to go and claim your bags. Despite the fact that it’s hardly ten AM on a weekday, the airport is bustling with people, and all kinds of languages fill your ears as you make your way to the baggage claim. A few phrases are familiar, but the shout of a wild string of portuguese stops you in your tracks. 

You know you probably look foolish, spinning around wildly in the middle of the walkway, but within the mess of people, you can’t pin a location on the source of the noise. 

Two seconds later, and you’re on the ground, tackled by a blur of highlighted hair and a wide, white smile that squeals as the two of you fall. 

“I missed you I missed you I missed you!” she shrieks, and you laugh, pulling yourself off the ground and offering a hand down to Rafaella, who accepts graciously.

“I missed you too! I can’t believe I’m actually here!” You wrap her in your arms, inhaling the scent of the perfume you know so well and grinning like mad. Two months without seeing your best friend was far too long—just as two months seeing your boyfriend was too long.

“Did you get to see the city coming in? It’s a little cold this time of year, but I can’t wait to show you around. I have so many places to take you, we should go get breakfast, and then for dinner later I’ll take you to my favorite place!

Rafa chats away as the two of you descend into the lower levels of the airport, grabbing your suitcase on the way out before you hail a cab. The ride is lengthy, weaving in and out of the streets of the city, but the sights are captivating. Though you’ve been to countless cities before in your lifetime, and have lived in a large one in the recent days of your life, Barcelona is different in an indescribable way. Your counterpart points out places as you pass them, animated and excited as ever to show you her new home, and before long, you’re pulling into the driveway of the house.

The air is cold enough to make you pull up your hood as you walk around to the backdoor. In the yard is the pool and the patio and an array of balls and toys, a sight you’ve seen plenty of times in pictures and FaceTime calls. Inside, it’s warmer, and homey, the family pictures on the walls and the personal items spread across surfaces making it feel like you’re back at the family compound in Brazil.

“Well,” Rafa plops down in a barstool when you reach the kitchen, propping her chin up with her hands as she gives you a look. “I would offer that you could stay in my room with me, or I could make up one of the beds in the guest room, but given that I know you won’t really stay in either of them, I won’t. And yes,” she sticks out her lower lip in a pout as you bury your face in your hands, your face flushing what you can only assume is a bright, bright pink, “As your best friend, I am totally jealous of my brother for getting prime cuddle time before I do, so one of the conditions of my services organizing this little surprise is that I get at least one girl’s night, you and me, without any boys. None.”

“Agreed. Always,” you grin, and hop onto the stool next to her, pulling her into a tight hug and ruffling her hair as you pull away.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? We’ve got food.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” you chuckle, crossing the room to pull open the refrigerator door. “Water? This place is so modern, I can’t imagine you drink out of the tap!”
“Little blue button on the inside of the door.”

“Thanks.” After a few tries opening and closing cupboards in search of a cup, you get a plastic one thrown at you with a couple of endearing curses, leaving you and Rafaella in giggles as you down a glass and fill up another.

“Can I take my bags up?” You ask, pulling out your phone to check the time. It’s still morning, and you know Neymar’s training goes until mid afternoon, giving you time to get some rest before you hide and stage your surprise.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Rafa stays in the kitchen as you wander back to the room where you’d dropped your bags, and you take the moment of solitude to look around. Matchbox cars and stuffed animals belonging to Davi litter one corner of the room, and there’s a few pairs of shoes kicked off haphazardly by the door that make you smile. You’d never been the neatest person in the world, but Neymar’s habits of leaving his things all over any space he inhabited put you to shame. When you shared a room, it made for a mighty mess of clothing, football boots, shinguards, camera lenses and any other random junk (and there was a lot) that found its way into your space, driving anyone who attempted to brave the abyss mad.

Finding Neymar’s room is more challenging than you’d anticipated, but allows you to guide yourself on a self given tour as you wander up the stairs and into practically every room on the second floor. The guest room, as Rafa has promised, is not made up, but ducking into Davi’s room makes you smile. You’d known the boy since he’d been born, and you’d been buddies ever since. He knew you well, almost as an extension of his immediate family, and every reunion between the two of you always resulted in big hugs and the tug of his hand pulling you off to play something new that he’d become fond of. 

Rafa’s room has you shaking your head as soon as you step through the door. For all of the relentless teasing you endure for your messy habits, she isn’t far behind, with clothes strewn about the floor and the pink duvet of her bed mussed and unmade. It’s outside of her room that the hallway turns into another staircase, and you climb until you come to the top, pushing the only door open with your hip as you heave your luggage behind you. You can tell immediately that you’ve found your destination as you trip over a pair of rumpled jeans three steps into the room, inhaling the scent that is, inexplicably, your boyfriend. 

This room is bigger than the one he has back home, with a large, plush looking bed situated against the center of one wall and a balcony overlooking the backyard on the wall opposite. Through the doors on the other side of the room you can see a bathroom and a walk in closet, and all around is evidence of Neymar’s presence, from the framed pictures situated on the nightstands, to the towel left on the floor next to the bed and the sweatpants tossed at the bottom of the comforter. You set your things down in the closet and pull out your charger, flopping down on his bed with eyelids drooping once you’ve plugged in your phone and shot Rafaella a text telling her that you’re going to take a nap, and that she should wake you up soon.

Kicking off your shoes, you pull the sweatshirt off, leaving you in your sweats and a sports bra as you crawl in between the sheets of the bed. It’s luxuriously comfortable, and before you even have time to hear back from Rafa downstairs or think about anything else, you’re out like a light, cradled by sleep and the soft comforter pulled up around your exposed shoulders.


There was a story that your Pai told often about you to anyone who would listen. You were a little girl. It had been the dead of storm season on the coast of Brazil, and your family had been bracing for thunderstorms for days. Your father had closed down the store as a precaution, and your mother had been worried sick about your brothers when they’d snuck off to go play down the road, leaving you stuck inside with fretting parents and little more to do to pass the time. Eventually, you’d stolen off with a book to the attic, watching as the clouds rolled in black and the trees started to sway with wind as the storm picked up from a small window. Somehow, you’d ended up falling asleep without your parents knowing where you’d gone, and when your brothers rushed home, soaked to the bone with rain, a new search mission had to be employed to find you, the baby of the family, as the first cracks of lightning and claps of thunder filled the air and left your mother jumping.

As a child, you’d been terrified of storms, and to this day, when you heard thunder, it frightened you, as it always had. Your parents, knowing this, looked frantically around the house, shouting and calling for you as they combed each hiding spot they knew of. It took them an hour to find you in the attic, your book pressed open against your chest and your head tilted back as you slept soundly through the booming thunder just outside your window. 

Everybody knew that you slept hard, and woke for nothing but your own will.

It was just part of who you were, part of your very being to sleep through storms and parties and any other loud noises that happened to be going on.



Blaring music?


Which means that when Neymar arrives home, clambers up the stairs, shouting as he goes to see if Rafa is home, and throws open the door to his room with a loud bang, you hardly stir, where as he stops dead in his tracks, nearly dropping his phone and choking on the candy he’d popped in his mouth downstairs as his eyes dart between the shoes on the floor and the shape of a body sleeping in his bed.

If you had been there to see his face, it would have made your top ten favorite moments of all time.

But, seeing as Rafaella had forgotten (oops) to rouse you, and you were famous for being the unwakeable napper, you didn’t see it, at all.

The only thing that lets you know that your surprise had fallen through is the shift as his weight presses into the mattress beside you, his hand coming up to brush some hair out of your face as you awake with a start, your eyes flying open to meet his own and the wide, cheeky grin on his face.


You’re cut off by lips pressed against your own, smiling against your mouth as your eyes widen with shock.

“No, no, no, I was supposed to surprise you!” you cry, scowling as you sit up and press the palm of your hand into Neymar’s chest. He laughs, pulling you back down by your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck to press kisses along your jaw, and you twist around to get a good look at his face.

“I had this whole plan, you weren’t supposed to find me up here! I was gonna jump out and scare you and—“

“You did surprise me!” he says, his eyes twinkling as he nudges your shoulder gently. “I had no idea, honest, until I came in here and saw your shoes. This is the best surprise ever, trust me!”

“But I was sleeping!”

“And I got to wake you up!” 

His smile is delirious, infectious as you feel the corners of your own mouth pull up. You hover over him, ponytail falling above his head, and lean down to kiss him full on the mouth, sighing with content when his hands come up to grip your waist and pull your chest flush to his.

“Surprise,” you mutter weakly, letting your head rest on his shoulder and your arm sling itself across his torso. 

“Best surprise ever,” he repeats. “How long are you—“

“Two weeks,” you say. “So, you’re kinda stuck with me for a little while.”

“As if I mind,” he scoffs. “I can’t believe you’re here, sneaky! Oh, I miss you so much, I can’t wait another month to see you! You’re a good actress, amor, fooled me well enough.”

“Yeah, I’m good like that,” you smirk, making a face that gets him laughing again. “I thought Rafa was gonna’ give it away for sure, but I guess not?”

“No, she was solid,” he chuckles. “Quiet as a mouse. I didn’t even think about it when she got up early this morning.”

“I need to thank her,” you sigh, “And not thank myself for not setting an alarm to wake me up.”

“Ah, let it go. Think about it this way; if you’d hid and jumped out at me, it would have meant that we got a few less minutes together than we do now.”

You slap his chest, lightly, and roll your eyes.

“Alright, romantic one, sure. Three to five extra minutes.”

“Hey,” he flips you over, rolling you onto your back so now, his face is above yours, a fake expression of seriousness prompting giggles out of you as he continues. “There’s a lot you can do in three to five extra minutes, amor.”

“Yeah?” you whisper, lifting an eyebrow as his hand finds your side, wandering down to the band of your sweatpants languorously. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely,” he murmurs. His thumb brushes against your hipbone, protruding slightly from the position you’re in, and you reach down to grab a hold of his hand, bringing it up to your face to kiss the rough skin of his knuckles as your eyes flutter shut.

“Then show me.”


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Thanks for reading!

oh, i’ve been looking into proper fish care and i keep seeing a post about people cringing about plecos in a 10 gallon tank

my dad currently has a pleco in a 10 gallon tank…i’m pretty sure he’s adamant to keeping it that small as well….

anyone got brief info about why plecos shouldn’t be in a 10 gal? i need to try and convince my dad to upgrade to a bigger tank if its putting it at risk