they-had-their-hands-rip-off

As a death was announced again, Nikita felt as if she couldn’t let this go by. 

Daryl was dead. Guess whose fault it is - mine.

He’d drown in a pool of his own blood and Nikita didn’t even know who is killing who. She’s failed again again again it’s all punishing me ever further -

Frail and weak hands tug at dark strands. Her own hair. She wishes she could rip them off and wail as loudly as she can - it’s her fault after all. She’s the why Daryl is dead. Or why everybody else was dead, but her weak feelings and her memory can’t forget the boy with hair as golden as the wheats found in the most serene and secluded plains. The embodiment of childish innocence and purity. She had told him it was all too dangerous to call yourself an Investigator in this town - especially when being this small and defenseless! 

A sob bubbles up in her throat and she lets herself lean against the wall of her entrance and slowly, crumble down. 

“God, I’m so worthless.” It’s your fault it’s your fault it’s your fault for his death! You should be dead like thirteen years ago, Lehane.

The Lookout realizes that everybody is left alone in this planet at some point.

So my dad used to teach human evolution at the University of Minnesota, right? And his favorite thing was discussing Native American cultures and bashing misogyny. 

So he’d start off class by going “Raise your hand if you think you know why men hunted and women stayed back in the settlements” and most kids would raise their hands. He’d list off a few various reasons and kids would slowly start participating. Then he’d go “How many of you think it’s because men are stronger” and of course most of the males would raise their hands with a few girls. He’d then proceed to rip apart the patriarchal views they had all been taught. “No,” he’d say, “It’s because if five men went out and three or two came back no one would bat an eye. They’d grieve sure, but society would go on. Now if five women went out and three or two came back you know what would happen? Society would collapse.”

And it was true. For many Native American cultures the only reason women did what they did was because the men couldn’t do it. We are (usually) taught a twisted, self-aggrandizing form of history despite evidence suggesting the complete opposite of it. 

6

Shiva in every episode - The Well

I was a zookeeper. Shiva, she fell into one of the concrete moats in her exhibit. It was empty, the vets were on their way, but her leg was ripped open. She was gonna bleed out. The sound she made. She was in so much pain. I knew the risk. I had to try. And I got my shirt up around her leg, saved her life. After that, she never showed so much as a tooth in my direction. Keeping a tiger isn’t practical, I know. She eats as much as ten people. She could yank the chain out of my hand, hell, she could yank my arm right off. But she hasn’t. She won’t. I lost a lot, just like everybody else. When it all started to end, I found myself back at the zoo. Shiva was one of the last animals left. She was trapped, hungry, alone. Like me. She was the last thing left in this world that I loved. She protected me. She got me here, made me larger than life.

A list of things I’ve learned:

1. You like your coffee black, with just a sprinkle of sugar. No cream. Once you tried drinking a blend from India I found at the supermarket, but you told me that you preferred your coffee to have grits, thick and dark that coat the back of your throat when they go down. So I took the cup for myself and made you a pot of Folgers.

2. When you read, and are entranced by the words, your eyebrows scrunch together like the back of a caterpillar and you always rest your hand on your chin.

3. When you read you have a tendency to fall asleep and drool on the pages. I can’t tell you how many books in the Bunker’s library I’ve had to wipe drool off of or rip out ruined pages because of your spit. It’s a good thing I adore you.

4. You usually sleep on your back, it’s easier to defend yourself if you are attacked that way. But with me you sleep on your stomach, or curled up against my chest, breath warm on my neck. I like that you are comfortable with me. I know how hard it is for you to let yourself go.

5. The brief moments you do let yourself go are rare. I cherish them.

6. You always say my name when you come.

7. You are fascinated with my hands, all the things they can do, have done, and will do. I love when you kiss my fingertips.

8. You get this look of unfettered joy on your face whenever you cook for Sam and I. I don’t know if this joy is because you are happy doing something for us, or you simply enjoy the routine activity. I haven’t asked and I won’t, as long as you are doing something that makes you happy I don’t care the reason.

9. You love your brother with every fiber of your being; you love me with your entire soul. I often wonder how you manage to love the both of us and have any love left.

10. You love without reserve, and so do I. How could I not?

11. You only stay in hotels that cost less than $69 dollars a night. It was an inside joke between you and Sam for years until I finally understood.

12. You make a lot of jokes, some are funny and some really aren’t. I laugh at them all.

13. You hate cherry pie. I’m still shocked about this one.

14. You won’t eat apples but you will eat an entire apple pie if given the chance. I will never understand the difference, it’s all apples to me.

15. You love all Impalas before 1967, but hate all the ones that came after. “Copycats,” you called them. I can’t say I blame you.

16. You’re proud of Sam for graduating college this summer. You cried at the ceremony. I did too.

17. You love sacrilege and angels. I think that’s partly why you married me.

18. Sometime after Purgatory you told me you hated Bed & Breakfast places. “Too frilly, and too honeymoon-y,” is what you said. But somehow I managed to convince you to stay in one on our wedding night. I didn’t hear any complaints, so I am starting to doubt that you hate them as much as you say you do.

19. You cried the first time we had sex, burying your head in the pillow and hiding your tear-stained face from my eyes. The Mark burned on your arm, and I cradled your head in my hands. Later you told me it was the first time you had felt anything in over a year and I vowed to make sure you would never have to suffer again. I think I succeeded.

20. Tomorrow is our first anniversary and you are finally at peace. You are currently curled up in our bed, hands splayed wide and relaxed on the pillow, even in your sleep reaching for me.

21. You don’t say “I love you,” often, but you don’t need to. Every caress of your hands, touch of your mouth, and crinkly-eyed smile is all the “I love you,” I need.

a few of my personal thoughts on Lily Evans

-she always had a run in her tights, always. even when she bought a new pair by the end of the day they would be ripped somewhere. she had no idea how it happened but it always did

-she wore several rings on both hands and the boys swore they had never seen her without them. sometimes she took them off when she had to write a particularly long essay and Peter would giggle at the tan lines on her hands from them

-after her mom died she took up smoking for a few days to cope. when Remus saw by the lake smoking one he promptly set the entire carton on fire in front of her eyes and she never picked them up again

-her hair was wild and tangled and usually filled with several knots. Sirius was tease her that her hair was worse than James until suddenly his mouth was filled with soap until he took it back

-when she got drunk she shouted the lyrics to her favorite rock and roll songs and made James swing dance with her in the common room in front of all of their friends. she couldn’t dance worth shit but it was really something else to watch her try

-she was a HUGE feminist. she lectured the boys on women’s rights so seventh year they started a S.P.E.W like club for the witches at Hogwarts and Lily beamed proudly as they started informing the other wizard’s about treating the witches with respect

-she cried when she found out she was made head girl. she knew she she had a chance but she had also gotten in trouble her fair share of times and didn’t think Dumbledore would give it to a muggle born because of the war but he did and she cried and had never been more proud of herself

-as soon as she realized she had feelings for James she acted on them because there was a war going on for God’s sake and if she had to watch that sixth year ravenclaw flirt with him one more time she would rip her own hair out

-she knew the other boys had a bet on when she and James would get together and Peter tended to lose these bets so she made sure to let James know how she felt only when she was sure he would win and threw Peter a wink when Sirius and Remus payed up 

Your long time friend hands you an invitation to a gala in their honor. You, being the messy person you are, stick it haphazardly in your bag. When you take it out, you see the corner had been peeled off accidentally. There’s text where it was ripped. You remove the top altogether. There is a message that reads, “Good. You are undoubtedly one of the greatest minds of our generation if you have solved it before the gala. I need you to provide a service to the country. This is a matter of national importance. First, I need you to…”

Weak Spot Pt. 2

Title: Weak Spot Part 2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Plot: Just a continuation of Weak Spot

Warnings: Swearing

Originally posted by super-pink-rabbit

               The “therapist” ripped off her lab coat and fake glasses but kept the paper in her hand. That was for the boss. She’d been sent to study the subject.  James “Bucky” Barnes, better known as the Winter Soldier. That idiot Stark had even paid her millions of dollars for it.

               She gripped the crumbled paper tightly in her hands as she walked briskly, proudly to the boss, whom she handed the paper to. Glancing up at her, he unfolded the paper and the words yanked a sinister smile onto his lips.

               Weak Spot: Y/n Y/l/n

               She spoke two firm words before turning on her heels and leaving the room.

               “Hail Hydra.”

Keep reading

producer unnie: a fanmix of girl group members and female solo acts who had a hand in the production of their music

domino game kiss&cry // green light (feat. jay park) (english ver.) g.na // rip off after school // after club brown eyed girls // very hot hyuna // my heart hwasa // only one boa // miss korea lee hyori // every night exid // if i were you 2ne1 // bad day iu // goodbye for now ailee // so long apink // movie star secret // you don’t love me spica // telepathy girl’s day// love cell sunny hill // baby maybe snsd // sunshine sistar // goodbye summer (feat. d.o) f(x) // truth ha:tfelt

When you give our Curious Leo a pointer hand.....

Oh look Leo has a pointer hand!

Now I know what you’re thinking but this is a broadcast so surely everything will be fine!!  There’s no way he would….. hold on…. nope he’s already started fidgeting with it……

This can’t possibly end well…..oh yep look the finger been ripped off.

And now the hand’s completely off the stick.

Well now you’ve done it Leo!!  It’s broken!!  How on earth are you gonna fix….. and now it’s just a finger.

He’s rammed the finger back on the stick and is using that to point with….

….. and poKING HIMSELF WITH IT NOW….

VIOLENTLY!!!

………..
………………
………………….. you adorable little shit i’m so done with you.

6

Shinjuku

From time to time I end up in Tokyo. One weekend in July I was invited to come along with dear friends visiting from Germany and we spent a lovely weekend exploring the greatest city in the world.

We stayed in Kabukichō, an area of Shinjuku which is traditionally one of the seediest areas in Tokyo. Apparently it is now being cleaned up for when the Olympics come into town in 2020. After all, you wouldn’t want the tourists be ripped off when they frequent the strip bars and hand job places, would you.

Kabukichō is also filled with love hotels, were lovers go to spend a few not so quiet hours. Most offer a rest, which is for a few hours, and a stay option, which is for the whole night. Even respectable hotels such as ours offer a rest.

Apparently, Shinjuku’s gay neighborhood is really famous in Japan. When I mentioned to my colleagues in passing that I had visited Shinjuku Nichōme they made big eyes.

https://aliveinkyoto.wordpress.com/2015/11/17/shinjuku/

You did not hand me my heart back when you stopped loving me.
You unearthed it from where it had nestled into your palms for so long,
ripped out its joints,
dropped it at your feet,
and walked away.
Leaving me to come and pick it up off the ground.

But now I have it back.
It is safe in my rib cage where it belongs–
healing.
Where it will be loved.
And you will never hold it in your cold hands again.
2

“I was a zookeeper. Shiva, she fell into one of the concrete moats in her exhibit. It was empty, the vets were on their way, but her leg was ripped open. She was gonna bleed out. The sound she made…..She was in so much pain. I knew the risk. I had to try. And I got my shirt up around her leg. Saved her life. After that, she never showed so much as a tooth in my direction. Keeping a tiger isn’t practical, I know. She eats as much as 10 people. She could yank the chain out of my hand…hell, she could yank my arm right off. But she hasn’t. She won’t. I lost a lot, just like everybody else. When it all started to end, I found myself back at the zoo. Shiva was one of the last animals left. She was trapped. Hungry. Alone. Like me. She was the last thing left in this world that I loved. She protected me. She got me here, made me larger than life.”

3

Elijah x Reader

Requested By Anon

Warnings: smut, rough, sex, furniture breaking




Elijah fell silent when you glared at him. He’d gone and done something reckless to help Klaus and you’d thought he wouldn’t be coming back, which had led to a long argument about helping Klaus when he returned.


It was like the world slowed as you stormed your way over to him, gripping his face as you kissed him your pent up worry and anger pouring through the kiss. Elijah’s hands found your waist as he deepened the kiss, lifting you off your feet as he crossed your room.


Keep reading

yes, i saw the twitter art. yes, i felt like i had to contribute. rip.

art link

.

-Quiet, snack tray.” He hissed, keeping his leg locked between her own so she wouldn’t fall.

She made a groaning noise, seeing as how his hand was pressed against her mouth. Damn – she had – quite literally – been seconds from escaping.

She blamed that damn blue bat for ratting her out – it could screech about as loud as she could scream. Her feet were hanging inches off of the balcony, and her view was the crashing ocean below. She could smell the salt and taste the fog. She was beyond stranded – she’d felt it in her gut since she’d first arrived – although, using the word arrive was generous enough – seeing that she’d been kidnapped-

“Don’t even think about it.” he growled at her as her hand crept towards the window frame, she had been hoping to use it to propel herself downwards, taking him with her on an icy plunge to the sea below. “You think I can’t swim?”

She cursed herself – of course he could swim – she was the one who couldn’t.

“Fuck you,” she spat at him. He grinned, showing off his pointed canines that he oh-so-enjoyed plunging into her neck.

“That’s the idea,” he gloated, before sweeping her up and locking her – once again – into the prison she so despised.

.

.

.

“Why me?” She asked, for what felt like the millionth time. She had long since bent the deck of cards he had given to her out of shape – plus, she was missing a king of hearts he had lit on fire, so she couldn’t even play half of the games she loved.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” He responded, whatever the hell he was doing, knitting, building a society, she could care less at this point. She had been here for almost a month now, and the days seemed to get slower each day, like syrup climbing uphill – it was a battle she was most definitely losing.

“What are you gonna do about it?” She asked back snidely, and only then did she realize what a bad idea that was.

He was on her in a second, lips grazing her neck gently, tenderly, before his teeth took purchase. She whined lowly, the feeling of him drinking her blood always made her dizzy. His hand grasped her thigh roughly and the other one was firmly lodged into the wood grain of the decrepit table she had been sitting at, groaning in protest as he forced the back of her legs against it.

“St-op,” she rasped, pushing at his chest was as fruitful as moving a skyscraper with a paperclip.

He made a rumbling sound against her throat, like laughter, before pulling away and promptly wiping away the few flecks of blood – her blood – off of his lips.

“I hate you,” she declared, holding her hand against her punctured neck tenderly. He sucked in a breath and smiled.

“Good,” he seethed, licking his lips sadistically, “you taste better when you’re steamed.”

.

.

.

The third time she tried to escape, he wasn’t fast enough to stop her.

She glared at the ocean with such unspoken hatred, it rivaled the way she looked at him. She had knocked that stupid bat unconscious and hidden him in her sock drawer – the vampire asshole king himself was fast asleep in his coffin somewhere – she couldn’t have been sure, she wasn’t allowed in his room anyways.

There was only one way out, and she knew exactly what that meant. (but she’d rather be dead than be with him)

Her hands were shaking like a frail heartbeat, she grasped the edge of the window so hard she knew blisters would appear the next morning (ha! She wouldn’t even be alive by then, nothing mattered anymore) and her legs pushed up, she was out, she was free.

The water crashed against the sides of the tower, her prison, and begged her to join it, to swirl with the waves and dance with the water.

-anything was better than this hell.

But, the second her foot left the comfort of the balcony, she hesitated.

I’m not ready to die, she thought, because plunging into the icy depths would most certainly lead to that, for her at least.

She clamped her eyes shut and let out a breath, then breathed one in, one, two, three, say your last goodbyes…

-and then, with hands shaking so hard they hurt, she released her grip on the window, and took a swan dive to the sea.

But the second her toes touched the water, she knew she’d made a mistake.

Why was she giving up? This was giving up, right? She couldn’t swim, what was she thinking?

Her body sunk like a rock, she forgot how to move, everything was so cold – and everything around her was dark…which way was up?

Her hands clawed at the water above her and her lips reached the surface, she drunk in the oxygen like it was liquid gold before she sunk down, down, down, once more.

I’m going to die, she thought, dread settling in her lungs like a cold, listless shadow. This was it – this was doom. She never thought she’d wish for that stupid blue bat to start screeching again, and she certainly never thought she’d hope to see him again.

With one last push from her weak, tingling legs, her face dipped the surface, and she screamed the last thing she ever wanted to scream, at least – not without malice.

His name-

The last syllable was clipped, and when she went down again, she realized how stupid she was – he couldn’t hear her, he wouldn’t save her.

She was just baggage – a snack tray – as he had so (un)fondly nicknamed her.

The weight on her lungs was almost unbearable, and she couldn’t tell which way was up any more – she didn’t dare let any precious oxygen out from between her lips to see where the bubbles went – losing air was losing life, the time was ticking, she only had seconds left, she felt like she was going to burst…

And then, she heard something, a crash, do crashes happen underwater?

Then, something solid scooped out from underneath and dragged her forwards, she felt like her body was made of lead.

Air hits her face and she could’ve cried, if she wasn’t too busy coughing like a dying woman.

He had come.

He held her so she was facing him, even though she refused to look him in the eyes. She focused on sucking in air while he was frighteningly still, save kicking to keep them both above the angry waves.

Her breathing was erratic and uncomfortably differing in lengths, his hands were gripping her so tight she thought she might pass out.

When she finally did look at him, she expected his usual cocky sneer, (dumbass, you can’t even escape right, that’s what he’d say) but all she saw was him, staring back at her, face deathly pale and eyes as wide as the sea itself.

“What were you…” he trailed off, salt water splashing up against his face, he didn’t care enough to notice. “Why did you…

Her hands found the collar of his cloak and she held on, he was her only lifeline at this point. He was still her jailer, but he was her savior, too. Why had he come to get her, anyways?

You’re special, he’d mock her with those words, women would kill to be my personal bloodbag.

Her response had always been I’m not one of those women, but if she truly wasn’t, then why was she there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, water clogging her vision, she was crying, of course she was crying, she could still taste the saltiness of the sea on her tongue.

“I am,” he said, words shocking her like raw electricity. “I didn’t mean to, I…god…don’t do that…ever again…

And she didn’t.

.

.

.

“Natsu,” she asked him one day, legs folded in her chair as she watched him emerge from his room drowsily. “…can I ask you something?”

One of his eyebrows went up lethargically, implying a maybe. He had been indecisive ever since the night she’d jumped off the balcony, like he was attempting at kindness, but he didn’t really know how, but not mean to any extent.

“Will you give me an actual answer?” She added with a twinge of hope.

He made a tired groaning sound and rubbed his eyes, but still nodded.

“Why did you choose me?”

He stopped rubbing his eyes and he looked down at her in her chair, eyes flickering with something indiscernible – anger? No, definitely not – regret? Maybe…

“You smelt good, I don’t know,” he mumbled, before turning to walk down the steps. She got up and followed him, wanting more details.

“What do you mean?”

“…Well, you know. Humans all smell different. I liked the way you smelt.” He shrugged it off, like she should trust a vampire’s intuition.

“What do I smell like?” She asked, a sense of morbid curiosity overwhelming her. He stopped walking, like he was debating whether or not to tell her.

“-doesn’t matter. You hungry? I sure am.” He whirled around so fast she hardly registered what was going on, but soon enough his lips were above her collarbone and his teeth had made their mark.

Ow, come on…warn me next time, would ya?” She asked, almost teasingly, as his hand cradled her back so she wouldn’t fall onto the steps unceremoniously.

“Hm-Hm,” He mumbled, perhaps an agreement, but she couldn’t be sure.

She smiled, because right before he bit her, she could’ve sworn she saw a blush on his cheeks.

She must’ve smelt really, really good.

.

.

.

“Lucy.” He deadpanned, staring at her as if she’d decided to spontaneously grow a third leg in the center of her chest. “What the hell?

She smiled a bit, partially because he’d called her by her first name (she liked hearing it from him – he’d retired the phrase bloodbag long ago, and she couldn’t be happier) and partially because she’d been waiting for that reaction.

“I redecorated your room,” she admitted proudly, pointing to what used to be a mess of trinkets and trash to what was now an almost deluxe complex. He was stunned.

“How the hell did you even-“

Shh,” she shushed him, “we don’t speak of the hows, only the wows,” she laughed at her own joke and gave him the grand tour.

When Natsu showed her his room, shed finally understood. Every photo, every souvenir, was from a different person, a different friend that he’d met along the way, a different friend who he’d lost – the curse of being immortal. Every friend and family member he’d watched die – it had moved her.

Now, the photos were hung much less creepily and much more organized, in places where he could turn and remember everything, each memory, each detail-

“Luce,” he breathed out, she shivered, he’d never called her that before, “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Have a little faith,” she teased, and he gave her a look filled with unbeknownst gratitude.

.

.

.

“You can leave.” He blurted out to her one night, she could hear the waves crashing against the side of the tower and she looked up from the new book he had brought her from Norway.

“What?” She asked, thinking she had heard him wrong.

“I said-“ he breathed out, he was struggling, she could tell. “You can leave, I’ll…I’ll let you go. I’ll set you free. I-if you want.”

It was unlike him to be this inarticulate. She closed the book and pursed her lips.

“Do you…want me to leave?” She tested him slowly.

“I mean…yeah. If you want to leave.” He mumbled. He was protecting himself. She thought of the photos decorating his walls, and all the regret that came with them. He’d watched them die, the people he loved…se couldn’t imagine it. She couldn’t imagine watching him die.

“I don’t,” she said simply, opening up her book again. Where did she leave off again?

“You…don’t…” he repeated softly, testing the words out. “You don’t want to leave anymore?”

“I haven’t wanted to in a while,” she admitted, scanning the words of her book with lessening interest.

“What changed?” He asked her, and she didn’t have an answer for him. She recalled the night he took her, the feel of the wind, the echo on the streets. That was the day her father had died. That was the day she lost everything.

It the day he took her to the tower. It was the day, that she arguably gained everything.

Her heart had changed, and maybe his had, too.

.

.

.

“Are you ready?” He asked her, eyes glowing in the firelight like they were one in the same with the dancing embers. Nervously, she nodded, and tilted her head.

“Just…promise me we won’t stay here. I want a house, full of open spaces.” She laughed, he laughed along with her, giving her a reassuring kiss to the corner of her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered quietly. She blushed and rested her forehead against his.

“Make me yours,” she whispered, and he grinned while his nose pressed against hers.

“I will, my vampire queen~”

Oh god, don’t call me that-“

His teeth descended to her neck before she could make another word of protest, and by the time he was finished, he knew he’d never have to watch another person he loved die again – not with her by his side.

.

.

.

“Lucy?”

“Yeah?”

“I want vampire kids.”

“Goodnight, Natsu.”

.

.

.

my tiny contribution…yeah yeah, i tried to make it as less stokholm-syndromey as i could, but i like to think that lucy knew he was a good person all along, she’s an intuitive character

yeah yeah messy af bYE

I had a nightmare last night… there was this guy walking a monkey down the sidewalk. The monkey saw me, escaped its leash, and leapt at my face to attack me.

It tried to rip my face off and bite my lips, but I managed to struggle against it and accidentally squished it. Into a perfect cube.

I turned the monkeycube over in my hands, and on one one side, perfectly framed, was the monkey’s snarling face. I handed the cube back to the owner and apologized.

protector // werewolf l.h. pt.8

Pairing: Werewolf! Luke+ Reader
Word Count: 1.9k
pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7
8tracks playlist
Masterlist
Trailer

        Blonde hair was hastily covered by his prestigious maroon snapback, putting it on backwards to give him the “official Luke touch.” He had decided to throw on his regular ripped back skinny jeans and a muscle tank just to show off to a little somebody. Luke had turned on the stereo trying to lessen the tension between them as the sound of old rock music filled the car.

His sapphire eyes glanced between the road and the girl sitting next to him as he drove through the roads that he knew like the back of his hand. Luke could notice her anxiously looking out the window and knew that she was nervous.

“What’s up buttercup?” Luke’s raspy voice caught her attention as she whipped her head to look at him.

“Nothing. And don’t call me that, it’s really cheesy.” Y/N chastised, running her fingers through her hair. Luke grabbed her hand across the console and soothingly ran his thumb across her palm.

“I find it cute.” His pink lips formed into a pout. You know that we’ve never gone out on a date,” the blond stated matter of factly biting down on his lip ring. “Damn it, I messed up the mood, didn’t I?”

“No, it’s totally fine. I mean we can make this a date- only if you want.” Y/N smiled, her heart beginning the flutter at the thought of Luke taking her out on a date.

“I was imagining our first date to be more romantic… something more than a house full of drunk teens grinding on each other.” He chuckled, still skimming his fingers over her palm. The roads were isolated except for a few other cars; it was just one more thing that was included in a fairly small town.

“You know that the rest of your pack won’t even notice if we’re not there, right?”

Keep reading

10 more Larry moments

#1 This soft hand touch

#2 When they slapped their fingers together by accident

#3 When Harry jokingly threw a punch at Louis before a show

#4 After they were put together somebody carried somebody off.

#5 When Louis wanted a hair tie and Harry was quick to respond

#6 When they were together on a bus :’)

#7 When this happened and they looked happy af. Not to mention harry had cum stained jeans and a ripped t shirt.

#8 When they showed us what they’d look like in the future as larents.

#9 When Louis wore panties to his mom’s wedding and harry had a condom in his pocket. 

#10 This cute kiss

10/?