this is a white girl photo but i'm okay with that

  • Blake: Mom. Dad. I have something I need to tell you.
  • Ghira: What is it sweetie?
  • Kali: You know you can tell us anything.
  • Blake: I know. It's just... This may come as a shock to you both.
  • Kali: Haha. I'm sure we can handle it.
  • Blake: *inhale* Okay... I'm not dating Sun. We are just friends.
  • Ghira: That's more along the lines of relieving new dear.
  • Kali: Ghira.
  • Blake: The reason why I only like him as a friend is because I like, no, love someone else.
  • Kali: Aaaaaaw Sweetie.
  • Ghira: Please tell me it's not any of his other teammate.
  • Blake: No dad. SHE isn't. *Looking a bit more nervous.*
  • Kali: Blake. We know you are bisexual. And we still love you no matter what. After all we knew right away that you and Ilai weren't doing late night combat training.
  • Ghira: We will always love you, Blake. Plus, Now I don't have to warning about early grandkids.
  • Blake/Kali: DAD!/GHIRA!
  • Ghira: I'm kidding. I'm kidding... Partly.
  • Blake: Sigh. Okay that answers a few things but that's not all.
  • Kali: Oh? What else is there?
  • Blake: ...
  • Ghira: Blake. You can tell us.
  • Blake: *She begins to shack with tears in her eyes.*
  • Kali: Sweetie. What's wrong? *Both her and Ghira get up and move to Blake's sides, both hugging her as she she cries.*
  • Blake: She... She saved me from Adam... And... And lost her arm because of me. *sniffle* She has done so much for me. And I left her when she needed me the most to protect her.
  • Kali: Oh honey.
  • Ghira: I'm sure she will understand. Though, I never thought Adam would attack other faun-
  • Blake: She's a human.
  • Kali: ...
  • Ghira: A... Human?
  • Blake: It's part of why I left... Adam said he would destroy everything I love... I was afraid if I stayed with Yang. He or the white fang would go after her. It's why I... I wanted to bring her here, where I thought the white fang wouldn't be but I was afraid... I was afraid that you two would be...
  • Kali: *Pulls Blake into a tight hug.* Blake. My baby girl. We love you no matter what and no matter who you love whether they be a Faunus or a human. I mean, We did start the originally to unity humans and faunus.
  • Blake: *Smiles and hugs her mom.* Thank you mom. *she then turns to her dad who is in deep thought.* Dad?
  • Ghira: ... I'm sorry Blake. *he said as she stood up.*
  • Blake: Dad? *She said with a heart broken look.*
  • Kali: Ghira? *She questioned as they watched him walk to his deck and open a drawer pulling something as he walks back over.*
  • Ghira: You said her name was Yang? As in Yang Xiao-Long? *He asked handing the object to Blake, Kali meanwhile suddenly having a look of realization.*
  • Blake: Y-yes. *She said confused taking the object realizing it was a framed picture.*
  • Ghira: Then I am sorry Blake. But The woman you love isn't just a human. *Ghira told Blake who looked at him confused before looking at the picture as she gasped. The photo showing a younger Ghira and pregnant Kali with a younger Taiyang and pregnant Raven.* She is half faunus.
  • Blake: I don't... I don't understand.
  • Ghira: What I'm saying Blake is... *Deep breath.* Our future Grandchildren have a less chance of getting your ears.
  • Blake: *Blake stared at her fathers serious expression as it slowly breaks into a chuckling smile making her laugh as well as she stands up and hugs her dad.* I'm sure they'll still look lovely.... Thank you. Both of you.
  • Kali: Of course dear. *Kali smiled hugging her husband and daughter.*
  • Ghira: We love you Blake. No matter what... I just hope She doesn't have Tai's taste for terrible puns and jokes.
  • Blake: Uh... Yeah. About that. *Ghira groans*
  • Kali: Oh I like her already.
Stroke of Luck chapter 3

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug
Rating: Hard T
Summary: Adrien recounts the events of the previous night, a new realization dawning on him.
A/N: I wasn’t supposed to post past chapter 2 on tumblr but people on and AO3 keep PMing me to so here it is hahah
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5

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FML (Tadashi X Reader)

This story is based on the following FML submission: 

Today, I called this girl I’ve had a crush on for 2 years to confess my love to her. However, as she picked up the phone, I got so nervous that I froze and couldn’t say a word. I was standing there, breathing heavily for 20 seconds. She got so freaked out that she threatened to call the police. FML.

(•–•) (•–•) (•–•)

            Tadashi sits on the edge of his bed, clutching his phone and chewing nervously at the inside of his thumb. The anxiety-filled man was currently fighting with the angel and the devil on his shoulder, trying to gather up the courage to call Y/N. She is a beautiful young woman, about to begin her first year at SFIT. The two had met when they were both in high school, Y/N being a wide-eyed freshman and Tadashi a confident junior. They quickly became best friends, but Tadashi wished for more than friendship from Y/N. This led the tall man to his current predicament: should he call and confess his love for Y/N, or should he continue his silence?

            Hiro groans and rolls his eyes at his mess of a brother. “Would you just call her already?! You’ve been staring at your phone for a solid twenty minutes, Tadashi.”

            “What if I freak her out? What if she doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t want to ruin our friendship over this, Hiro. She probably doesn’t like me. Yeah, no, I can’t do this,” the older boy pulls off his hat and runs his fingers through his matted down hair.

            “You can and you will call her, ‘cause I am sick and tired of you always talking about ‘Y/N this’ and ‘Y/N that’ and moping around every time a different boy gets up the nerve to ask her out on a date and she says yes,” The younger Hamada crosses his arms over his chest, “Now, do you need me to call her for you or are you going to grow up and do it yourself?”

            Tadashi huffs, firmly placing his hat back on his head. He pulls up your contact in his phone, and hits the call button next to your number. He nods confidently as the phone wrings, sure he’s got this one in the bag. He’s sure that 1000%, without a doubt, you’re going to say that you felt the same way and had been waiting for him to finally make his move. Hell yeah. I AM the man. His confidence crashes when he hears you pick up the line.

            “Hey, Tadashi, What’s up?” He can hear your smile on the other end, but feels as if he’s suddenly frozen. “Are you alright Tadashi?” His nerves have taken control, and all he’s doing is breathing.


            Into the phone.

            “Tadashi, is that you?”

            Breathing, breathing, breathing.

            “Okay, well, whoever the fuck you are, you’re really freaking me out.” There’s no answer, just breathing. “If you don’t knock it off, I’m calling the fucking cops, asshole.” Much to your relief, the person who called you hangs up and the line goes dead.

            “What was that all about?” your roommate, Honey Lemon, steps out of the kitchen and slides into her spot on the couch next to you. She hands you a mug of hot chocolate and takes a sip of her own, looking curiously at you. You were still shaking after the terrifying phone call, so you did something very out of character for you.

            You burst into tears.

 (•–•) (•–•) (•–•)

            “Wow,” Hiro says, slack-jawed and staring at the train wreck he was apparently related to. “You know, I don’t think that could have gone much worse. Yep, I’m pretty sure that was definitely the worst possible outcome for that phone call.” He spins his desk chair away from his computer to look at Tadashi. The older boy is now leaning against his bed, long legs sprawled out in front of him, hat off once again and fingers tangling their way through his now unruly hair.

            “I would appreciate it if you would stop talking,” Tadashi seethes. Groaning, he rakes his fingers down his face. “God, how did I fuck that up so bad? I froze up and now she thinks I’m a psychopathic loser. She’ll never want to talk to me again.” Tadashi covers his face with his hands and sighs.

            “So what are you gonna do about it?” Hiro says, wheeling his chair over to his moping older brother.

            “Nothing. I told you, she’ll never want to talk to me again.”

            “Y’know, for someone who’s so smart, you’re really stupid sometimes. She obviously likes you: she gets all blushy and nervous and weird around you, just like you do when you’re around her. It’s gross,” Hiro sticks a finger in his mouth and pretends to gag. “But anyways, you should go talk to her before she gets a restraining order against you or something.”

            Tadashi flushes at the thought of you being nervous around him. Could you really be into a total nerd like Tadashi? He rises from his slouch on the floor, picking up his phone and keys from the bedside table. He ruffles Hiro’s hair, grabs his bike helmet, and quickly and stealthily rushes down the stairs, successfully avoiding any and all questions from Aunt Cass about where he was going this late at night. It was only 10:00, but that was practically midnight to his aunt. He knew he could make it to your apartment by 10:30 if he hustled, so without further hesitation he jumped on his scooter and left his home behind.

(•–•) (•–•) (•–•)

            Honey Lemon opens the door to find a breathless Hamada brother on the other side instead of the pizza delivery guy she was expecting. Tadashi can faintly hear (Your favorite Disney movie) playing from inside the apartment.

            “Hey,” he says, awkwardly waving at the blonde girl, who does not seem particularly happy with him, judging by the piercing glare she’s sending his way.

            “What the hell was that?” She says in a harsh whisper. She steps outside of the apartment and closes the door until it is almost shut so you won’t be able to hear the conversation. Her eyes were alight with a fury he had never encountered from the normally bubbly girl.

            “I freaked out, okay? I was calling to ask Y/N if she wanted to go out with me, but I freaked out and blew it. I had to come talk to her in person because I screwed everything up. Does she hate me now?” Tadashi rubs the back of his neck nervously.

            “I have no idea, it took me a solid ten minutes to get the story out of her because she was crying so hard. Crying, Tadashi. Y/N. She literally never cries,” Honey Lemon speaks quietly, not wanting you to overhear the conversation.

            Tadashi has never felt like more of an asshole in his entire life, and pleads with Honey Lemon to let him talk to you. Sighing, She steps away from the door and allows the boy to enter.

            He slips off his shoes and steps lightly into the clean apartment, which smells faintly like vanilla and has white Christmas lights and photographs on the walls. He lightly runs his fingers over a large, framed picture of the two of you that was taken at your high school graduation in the spring. You were wearing a (your school color) robe and his San Fransokyo Ninjas hat, while he wore a light blue shirt, grey cardigan, and your graduation cap on his head. You were both laughing in the photo, arms happily wrapped around each other. He had a copy of the same photo sitting on his desk at home. Smiling at the photograph, he walked into the living room.

            You’re too enraptured by the movie to pay attention to who had walked into the room. You turn, expecting to see Honey Lemon holding a box full of carb-loaded-love, but instead find the man you’ve been in love with since you moved to San Fransokyo. Now, four years later, with him leaning against the wall in your apartment, you were startled to say the least, judging by the ice cream carton that had slipped out of your hand and was now all over your blanket. Noticing the stream of melted vanilla snaking its way from the carton seems to shake you from your stupor. You see Tadashi leave the room and come back moments later with a wad of paper towels, dropping to his knees in front of you and wiping the gooey mess off your blanket. Sitting back on his heels, he looks up at you.

            “Hey,” he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

            “Hey,” you repeat, your guard still up after the night’s strange events.

            “So, um, I want to apologize for scaring you out earlier. The truth is, I was, uh, I was calling to tell you that I really, really, like you, but instead I froze up and freaked you out. Jesus, Y/N, it’s just–damn, you make me so nervous–” Tadashi’s nervous tirade is cut short by your soft lips pressing against his cheek. A blush blossoms across his cheek and reddens his ears.

            “You are the biggest dork I’ve ever met, Tadashi,” you murmur, taking his hand. “I think I’m in love with you.”

            “Y/N, I want to kiss you.”

            “Well, what’s stopping you?”

(•–•) (•–•) (•–•) 

A/N: Hey Guys! So that was the first fic I’ve ever published: I hope you liked it! I would love to take any sort of request or idea you’ve got (although, I am a kinda slow writer)! Thanks for reading!

2015 in a nutshell
  • If you’re reading this it’s too late. It was a long tiiime ago in a galaxy far, far away, and these are their stories.
  • Me: hello... it's me. i'm auditioning for the role of right shark and i'll be singing hotline bling. you’ve heard of rickrolls, now get ready for george glass… with a gun. Young man, I know he ate a cheese / I said, young man, Dan Nicky your JOHN CENA
  • Rihanna: *winks*
  • Glunkus: 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌th 👌 ere👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit
  • Steve Harvey: you’re too hot, hot damn (Taylor Swift™ No copyright infringement intended. Property of TAS LLC management 2012©). you know who else is beautiful? zoobe.
  • Coppy: we are Straight Outta boc (bread of color) so have a sinnamon snoll (snail roll)!
  • Poot: I’m the untoasted bread discourse and i still get sausage
  • Psychic: *reading Putin's mind* wake up chad. listen. those feudal handmaidens are lesbians *closes buzzfeed* #thisgeneration
  • Iggy: *freestyles spongebob gothic*
  • Me: Charlie, Charlie, are you there? [uses hands as microphone] My interests are very singular. *takes a deep breath* I lo-
  • You: yes, you love the signs as concepts, we know, you love them so much, especially *takes a closer look at smudged writing on snout* pal gals, psychic ford rail jaundice, and nyan generous evaluation, the first meme of 2015, they’re the light of your life, we KNOW you’re a kid you’re a squid and Dick Cheney can't melt steel beams. WE GET IT
  • Me: There you are. (raising voice slightly to be heard) oi mate u fancy a cheeky Nando’s?
  • *20 minutes into stealing human bones and chill*
  • Me: What are thoooose?
  • You: white and gold minion shoes *trips* *thousands of photos of Tubbs in a Down with Cis shirt eating coleslaw spill out of your pockets* what haha these aren’t- *desperately trying to gather them as more fall out* I’m holding these for someone else I swear!
  • Me: *shoving breadsticks into purse* I gotta go
  • You: okay… that sounds fake but okay
  • Shakira’s hips: As a lesbian… supporter who respects creative integrity and intellectual property, I am disgusted.
  • Me: Son of a
  • You: You are mean to me you insult me and you dont appreciate anything that i
  • Me: i’m a jaded teenage girl. i’ve been through shit that you wouldn’t even dream of.
  • You: Why you always lyin mmmmmm
  • Me: You said you found a wallet on the ground with like $1,000 dollars in it. I said bitch where? You said under all those rare Pepes. I said bitch where?
  • You: I McFreakin’ lost it!
  • Me: And quit telling everyone I’m dead!
  • You: Buy my silence. Permanently. For $8,000 a month, I will stop.
  • Me: why?
  • You: you gotta. JUST DO IT
  • You: I didn’t get no sleep ‘cause of y’all
  • Me: how many times must you kink shame me under my own roof? hoe don't do it
  • Me: oh my god. “not all men” you're right. Paul Blart: Mall Cop would never do this.
  • You: Tony, what’s good?
  • Me: *spits at you* effective.
  • Power
  • لُلُصّبُلُلصّبُررً ॣ ॣh ॣ ॣ
  • *title card* Captain America: Civil War
The Greatest Gift

A/N: Thanks to the anon that sent in this suggestion!

Two weeks before her one year wedding anniversary to Barry, Iris started to feel a little…funny. Not funny in a bad way, per say, just different.

She didn’t pay much attention to that feeling, however, because she was focused on the perfect gift for her husband. The sad truth was for as long as she’s known Barry Allen he’s been one-upping her in the gift department. Their very first Christmas together, when he came to live with them after his mother died, she saved her allowance for weeks to get him a chemistry set. Turns out his great Aunt Lucy (who he didn’t even know, by the way) had the same idea and sent him the exact same set. Since Barry had already decided that Iris’s gift was the most important and therefore he was going to save hers for last that meant she had to watch in horror as he unwrapped a replica of the chemistry set she had excitedly clutched to her chest. She couldn’t stop the tears that instantly sprang to her eyes as her face fell especially when she saw his face light up with happiness. Selfishly, she wanted to be the person that put that smile on his face so she, for a moment, felt an irrational hate towards this great Aunt Lucy that came out of nowhere to ruin her Christmas.  To his credit though Barry’s face still lit brighter than the Christmas tree he was sitting by when he was able to pry the gift from Iris. From the way he acted you’d think he was unveiling the Hope Diamond instead of a chemistry set he just unwrapped about two minutes ago.

In comparison, he brought her a bracelet that had a heart with best friend etched in it (he had a round key chain to match) the latest Lemony Snicket novel (he knew how much she loved the cleverness of the series) and Build-a-Bear Angel Bear. Iris squealed happily when she saw her gifts but her mood instantly sobered when she saw the matching chemistry sets flanking Barry.

“I’ll get you something else,” she had promised but Barry wouldn’t hear of it. In fact he told her that his chemistry set was the best gift ever and he was happy he was lucky enough to have two.

So that set the tone of their gift-giving from then on.

No matter what she got for Barry he always got something better. Literally always. It was always something more expensive or more meaningful.  When she splurged and bought him a pair of very practical rain boots he needed, he bought her a super expensive leather jacket that she had been eyeing but would never dream about asking her Dad for. Their senior year in high school she saved her money all YEAR long to send him to his favorite Science camp as a graduation gift and he in turn saved money all year long to help her father send her to Paris for a week. The year she got him a SUPER expensive microscope that she knew he desperately wanted, he had a replica of her mother’s wedding band made for her. When she got him a new (state of the art, mind you) designer wallet that cost almost her entire pay check, he got them a beautiful apartment.

For almost 20 years Iris has been fighting this losing battle. But not this year. Not anymore.

So, with that goal in mind, she had been planning and planning and planning some more to make sure she got Barry the perfect one year anniversary present. So perfect in fact, that it wouldn’t matter what he got her or how much he spent he wouldn’t beat her.

Not that it was a competition, of course.

Keep reading

sonotsiobhan  asked:

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere" RIARKLE OMG THE O TO THE T TO THE P

           It was May of their junior year, and everyone was scrambling to get last minute prom date – except Riley. She didn’t have a date, but she had learned at their semi-formal that she has more fun when she’s with her friends than when she’s worrying about the ‘perfect date.’ This year, Maya, Lucas, Zay, Farkle, and Riley were going to the prom as a group and Riley had the perfect night planned. First, the boys would go to Farkle’s to get ready and Maya would come to her place. They would all go out to this fancy restaurant she found across town and then drive over in Farkle’s car – Stuart had asked if they wanted to take the helicopter but Farkle gave him a very adamant ‘no.’ Then after the dance they would sneak into Topanga’s and steal some sweets from the back before going back to her place and crashing on the floor.

           “So I just got off the phone with the restaurant and they have a reservation for Matthew’s party of five,” Riley said happily as they all sat around the table in Topanga’s drinking their smoothies.

           “Riley, you’ve called the restaurant every day for the last three weeks – I think they have our reservation by now,” Farkle said as he shook his head at her.

           “I know, I just want this night to be perfect,” Riley said sweetly.

           Maya and Lucas looked at each other quickly and then back at Riley before Maya started talking hesitantly, “Riles, honey, we need to talk to you about prom.”

           “Maya please tell me you didn’t change your mind about getting that red dress, because you’ll throw off the whole aesthetics of the picture,” Riley said worriedly.

           “No, sweetie,” Maya started, “it’s worse than that.”

           “What can be worse than that!?” Riley exclaimed.

           Maya took a deep breath, “Riley, Lucas and I are going to go to the prom together.”

           “Okay, it doesn’t matter if we show up in different cars –”

           “No, Riles, Lucas and I are going to the prom together as each other’s dates – alone,” Maya clarified.

           “Oh,” Riley said dejectedly.

           “We’ll still see you guys there,” Lucas tried to cheer her up.

           “Yeah, no, it’s okay. I understand,” Riley said as she stood up. “I hope you both have fun and I’m going to go change our dinner reservations.”


           It was prom night and Riley had just finished sliding into her long, pink dress when the doorbell rang. Maya and Lucas weren’t going to be there and she was pretty upset about it, but she still had Zay and Farkle and she knew the three of them would have a great time.

           She walked out of her room and into the living room where she saw her two friends waiting for her. They were both wearing dark tuxes, Zay with a burgundy shirt and black tie and Farkle with a white shirt and red tie. She thought they both looked very charming, but her eye was drawn immediately to Farkle – it usually was. “Don’t you both look handsome?” She said as she walked closer to them.

           “So do you,” Zay said as he motioned toward her.

           “Um. Thanks,” Riley said as she smiled at him. “I think.”

           “Yeah, Riles, uh, you look beautiful. I know I’m not you’re date, but I’m proud to be the one walking into prom with you tonight,” Farkle told her making Riley blush and look at the ground.

           Cory and Topanga smooshed the three of them together and did the usual prom night photos before they were out the door and on their way to dinner. They gathered around the table, payed $20 dollars for a salad, and talked about how great senior year was going and what their plans for the future were. Aside from the fact that there were only three of them, this is exactly what Riley had been hoping for.


           Riley was out on the dance floor with a couple of the girls from the cheerleading squad when she looked over toward Farkle and Zay sitting at the table. To her surprise, Zay was gone. She didn’t like seeing Farkle all alone so she pushed her way through the mob of kids and sat down next to him, “Hey, handsome, is this seat taken?”

           “It is now,” Farkle said jokingly.

           “Where’d Zay go?” She asked before taking a drink of her punch to cool down.

           Farkle looked at her with a discouraged expression, “Apparently, Vanessa flew in to surprise him. I don’t think we’re going to be seeing much of him for the rest of the night.”

           “Is he at least going to bring her to Topanga’s after?” Riley searched Farkle’s face and saw nothing there to encourage her, “Farkle what’s happened to us? We used to be so close.”

           “Riles, we’re still close. Maya, Lucas, and Zay are in relationships now and we have to let them do what’s best for them,” Farkle told her as he scooted his chair closer to hers. “They’re still our friends.”

           Riley smiled at him and leaned her head on his shoulder for a moment before a slow song came on and she stood up, “Farkle Minkus, would you be my date to the prom?”

           Farkle smiled at her and took her hand, “Of course I will.”

           Riley pulled him onto the dance floor and immediately started to wonder if she had done the right thing. She had suspected for a while now that Farkle had feelings for her again and she didn’t want to lead him on – she just wanted to enjoy their prom. Those fears left her when his hands touched her waist gently and butterflies erupted in her stomach. She could feel the skin underneath the dress where he was touching burning her and she was brought back to another suspicion she had been having lately – that she had feelings for him too.

           She wasn’t sure how or when it happened or who initiated it, but as the song went on, she found herself getting closer and closer to him and his hands gently sliding across her back. She had moved her hands from his shoulders and was looping them around his neck as well and when she noticed all of this, she couldn’t help but smile.


           Riley slowly slid the key into the lock at Topanga’s and they snuck in before locking the door behind them, “So what would you like?”

           “Do you have any pie? I love pie,” Farkle told her as he followed her to the back.

           She pulled out an apple pie because she knew it was his favorite and took out the knife they usually used for such things, “How big of a slice do you want?”

           Farkle answered her by grabbing the entire tin and walking over to their usual seats.

           “Yeah. Okay.” Riley said as she grabbed two forks and followed him over.

           They started eating in a comfortable silence before Farkle sat his fork down and looked around the restaurant, “Can you believe we’re going to have to say goodbye to this place in a year?”

           “Please don’t make me sad while I’m eating pie,” Riley told him as she shoveled in another bite.

           “I know you’ve been thinking about it. That’s why you pushed this group thing so hard – you don’t want us to grow apart when we graduate,” Farkle told her and she sat her fork down and sat back in the seat.

           “You did it. You actually ruined pie for me. How did you do that, Farkle?”

           “Because you know I’m right,” Farkle told her as he slid down in his seay to get more comfortable.

           “I know,” Riley told him gently. “You’re not going to leave me too are you?”

           “Never. I’ll always be here for you.”

           “You promise?” She asked shakily.

           Farkle didn’t answer her, he just gently pressed his lips against hers – long enough for her to feel how warm and gentle they were, but not nearly long enough for either one of them, “I promise. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

           “Good,” Riley said as she snuggled into his side blissfully content knowing that she got her perfect night after all.

wangka-yee852  asked:

Hi!! Can u please do a angst/make up imagine with Jackson from Got7 and add a related photo too? :) ( I think imagines at the same with scenarios right? I am really sorry if I'm confusing u or)

The Look – Jackson Imagine

Originally posted by markjin

You saw the way he looked at her. It infuriated you. You saw the way he smiled at her. You stood right there. You watched him.

On the way home your knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel. “Are you okay?” he asked. All you could do was nod. You didn’t want to open your mouth till you got home. You parked and got out of the car quickly, slamming the door shut behind you in the process. You got your keys out in a shuffle, and you opened the door, dropping all of your things on the couch.

You paced back and forth. Your anger still building. You heard his footsteps and once the door was closed, you exploded. “What the hell was that?”


“You know God damn well what!”

“No, I don’t.” He seemed scared and confused.

“The way you looked at her.”


“The girl at rehearsal you idiot!” He stood there thinking for a moment, which caused your anger to build more. “Oh my god!”

“That was nothing,” he said finally remembering.

“Don’t you dare pull that sh*t with me!”

“Really!” He said pleading.

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“I don’t thi-”

“You haven’t looked at me like that in months!”

“What are you talking about?”

“Shut up! You know it’s true!” He was silent. Tears started to well in your eyes. He tried to comfort you. He stepped closer.

“Y/N-” he said calmly, while placing his hands on your shoulders before you pushed them away.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” He stepped back.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Me? Why am I acting like this? What the hell is wrong with you?”


“I’m not the one flirting with other people when I’ve been in a relationship for three years!”

“I’m sorry-”

“You should be!”

“If you just listen to me, then you would understa-”

“Screw you!” He was taken aback by this. “I’m tired of you treating me like I’m worthless!” You took a deep breath, calming down a little, speaking quietly now. “Get out.”


“Get out!”

“Just listen to what I have to say!”

“GET OUT!” He was about to argue, but thought the better of it and turned and left. The sound of the door closing signaled that you were alone.

You stood there, your hands in tight fists at your sides. All you could hear was the sound of your breathing. Your deep breaths, in and out, trying to catch up from the air you missed.

Your knees gave way and you sank into the floor. Tears started to fall down your face and into your lap. You placed your hands over your face. You shouldn’t have yelled at him like that.

You were angry, but you didn’t want to loose him. Then again, he was already gone.

A couple days passed and the more you thought about the fight, the more stupid you thought it was. You were angry with yourself now. You shouldn’t have lashed out at him. He was just being Jackson. You loved him and you knew he loved you too. He was busy, and you knew that. He was tired and their practices were running later and later.

You were proud of him and all he was accomplishing. He loved his job; it made him happy. You wanted him to be happy. You wanted to be happy with him.

There was a knock on the door one day. You got up and looked through the peephole. “Please let me in, let me explain.” You could hear his voice was soft, calm. He didn’t want to fight. You took a deep breath and let it out as you unlocked the door slowly. You opened the door and let him to slip inside. Then you closed the door and locked it. You turned around to face him.

You could tell he wasn’t sleeping. He had dark circles and his face in general seemed to be dull, drained. His hair was a little messy and his eyes seemed like there was a glass over them.

You don’t look that much better yourself. You had a messy bun that wasn’t even cute and you didn’t even bother to take it out to brush it. You were wearing the same pajama shorts and one of his t-shirts for the past couple days. Your face had dried tear streaks all across it. You hadn’t been sleeping either. Your dark circles were as bad as his. You let out a breath of air that you didn’t know you were holding in.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that,” you paused taking another breath trying to push your emotions down. “I was scared.”

“Why were you scared?”

“You have been treating me differently for a while. You’ve been more distant, and you wouldn’t talk to me as much. We always used to talk about everything. Then we never did. I didn’t want to think about it because I didn’t want what I thought to be true.”

“What were you thinking?” You looked down to your bare feet.

“I thought you didn’t love me anymore, that you were bored of me.”

“That is completely untrue.” You looked up at him. “I love you. I will always love you.”

“I know, I love you too.” You followed his eyes as he knelt down. “What are you doing?” you asked started.

“I love you, I’m sorry I’ve been distant. I would never be bored with you. You make my life worth living.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black, velvet box.

You placed over your mouth shocked. He opened it, a beautiful ring shone from the black background. “Y/N, will you make me an extremely happy husband and be my wife?”

“Yes!” He smiled and placed the ring on your hand. You put your hands on his cheeks and lifted him up so he was standing. You kissed him. He suddenly pulled away.

“I’m sorry about me smiling at that girl. She is a stylist that we work with all the time at the company. I asked her to help me pick out the ring. She was just happy to see you and me together when she knew I was planning on proposing. I love you and I would never do that to you.”

“I know, I just lashed out and was mad.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled your fiancé in for another kiss.

(Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you enjoyed it!)

-Admin Elzi

anonymous asked:

Hi, I was wondering if you could write something where Rose writes a letter to Robert asking if she can name the baby after Cora? And then maybe he and Cora go to visit after she's born and that's when Rose tells Cora. Or if you can think of another way to do it, go ahead. You're a talented writer; I wouldn't mind you writing something different.

Thanks for the sweet request, Anon! I hope you like it. Very short and very brief, but I think the idea is there.

Her eyes went wide when he told her, the letter still folded in his left hand. She was perched on the very edge of the red sofa of the library, and he saw as the light kissed her features, her eyes sparkling in astonishment.

“What?” she asked with a breath, an unblinking gaze. “Are you sure that’s what she meant?”

Robert resisted an urge to laugh, a warmth flooding his chest. “I daresay. It says here, ‘She came very quickly … 19 of September … I’m quite well, photograph is enclosed … Ah! We’ve called her Victoria Rachel Cora Ald -’”

“- But,” Cora was blinking now, shaking her head, “I don’t understand.”

This time the laugh that Robert had resisted came tumbling out, and he shook his head at her and lifted the letter. “Then you must read it yourself!”

And Cora took it from him, her eyes bright as she scanned the letter with the smallest curl of her lips.

He held his breath for a moment as he watched her, as he let his eyes look over every detail of her in the sunlight. The length of her fingers holding the note, the bend of her knee, the line of her jaw and the dark curl of her hair by her ear. Everything, oh everything, was something he suddenly wanted to drink in, and his fingers ached to touch her.

“Here,” he turned to his desk, breaking away and taking the photo of the infant from the envelope. “Here’s the photograph.”

Cora took it as he offered it, and the apples of her cheeks turned rosy as she peered at the image of the baby in her hands.

“Oh, darling Rose! I feel quite guilty somehow that she’s chosen me…”

Robert furrowed his brow. “How’s that?”

He watched as Cora tipped her head, the photo in her hand dropping to her lap. “Well I’ve not done anything to deserve such an honor, to have her child named for me.” She shrugged. “With Sybil it was different, after everything that had happened. But with Rose - and what will Susan say?”

“I don’t care what Susan says.”

“Oh…” she groaned.

“Honestly, Cora.”

Robert, frowning toward her gently, took three steps to her, and he sat upon the ottoman before her.

She followed him with her gaze, seemingly unsure of what he was going to say, her lips slightly parted, her eyes alert and watching, like a child’s.

“You do realize that Rose sees you more as a mother than she’ll ever see Susan -”

“Oh, I don’t know -”

“- and further more, you’ve done a great deal to be deserving of such an honor. I can’t understand why you’d feel guilty.”

His wife peered down between them for a moment and then up again at him, tilting her head to the side, her white earring tapping against the tender spot of her throat. “Just … I wish she’d written first. To be sure…”

Robert pulled in a breath. “She did.”

She didn’t ask what he meant, but Robert saw in the widening of her eyes that she wondered, that she looked up at him in question.

And so, with his heart now fluttering behind his ribs, he took her hand, soft and warm, inside the two of his own and held it tightly.

“Rose wrote to me some weeks ago of her plan, should it be a girl. She told me she wanted to call her after you, for your kindness.” Robert paused. “In hopes the child would be like you.”

Cora furrowed her brow, blinking harder up at him, tears gathering at her lashes.

“I couldn’t think of any name better.”

He grasped her hand more tightly and watched the pull of her lips into a soft smile. She swallowed.

“Do you mean it, Robert?” she asked with a timid shake of her voice. “You aren’t just saying so -”

“- I’m certainly not just saying so.”

He melted. He absolutely melted at the way she peered up at him then. The warmth of her smile, the teariness of her bright gaze, the pink of her soft cheeks.

“Hello Papa, Mama!”

They turned at Mary’s voice, her hand still inside his own.

“Nanny’s asked to bring the children down now, and I told her that she may. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course we don’t mind. How could we?” Cora shook her head and looked into her lap, at the photograph of the little child across the sea. Robert watched her as she smiled again. “I’m very happy that she asked.”

Hopeless (Olicity future fic)

(The amazing andcreation suggested this dress for Felicity at her and Oliver’s engagement party.)

“And where is your bride-to-be?” Thea asked, sidling up next to Oliver where he stood at the bar. She already had a glass of champagne in hand, and the sparkling liquid perfectly complimented the soft gold floor-length dress she wore. She cocked her head. “You do know that the whole ‘wait to see each other’ thing only applies to the actual wedding, right?”

“Ha ha, Speedy,” Oliver replied, nodding his thanks when the bartender set his glass of scotch before him. He took a sip and turned back to face the ballroom. 

It was already starting to fill up, he realized with a sinking stomach.

When Felicity had first mentioned an engagement party, this hadn’t been what he’d envisioned. He’d thought a simple party with friends and family, something where the main drink being passed around was beer and the only food was Diggle’s killer BBQ ribs.

Not this.

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theconsequenceofsoundss  asked:

How would I improve on drawing hair? Like hair strands and stuff. I know hair doesn't fall separately you get strands but I can never draw it and I always end up making each hair separate and help cause I'm an art student I needtoknowI'mpanickinghelp

Ooh cool! My favourite artist to look at for hair is Alphonse Mucha’s sketches of girls.

Look at the way he reserves areas of white (girl w/ long hair on the right).  I came to see those areas as ‘implied hair’ because you don’t need to draw every strand to let people know it’s hair. And then the mass of hair that’s flowing down - he’s bunched them up in the middle so there’s less lines (and more white) until the tips where there’s more definition. I’ve used this principle every time I’ve drawn hair  (leaving the middle ‘implied’ with few strokes, then defining the strands at the tips as well as at the top of the head).

This is a drawing I did last year in July, and you can see (girl on right) there’s more detail at the roots and tips than middle

These were done by ‘deducemysoul’ on tumblr and I love how different the approach is. It’s not line based like Mucha but ‘shape’ based. She’s focused on the tone and values of masses of hair and then added a few flyaway hairs. In the first painting, it’s interesting to see how ‘sleek’ hair is portrayed with just colour/tone and no lines (until the tips).

Okay! Maybe you want to start a folder of nice hair pictures and draw from them (doing studies from other artists is also a great idea).

I love Amanda Norgaard’s hair in this photo, it’s got a nice colour and wispy-ness to it. So if I were to do a pencil drawing I’d draw some of the roots at the top of the head where the split is, between that and where the hair tucks over the ears I’d leave it as ‘implied’ hair. The shadows I’d draw in around the ear and where the hair does that plait curl. And then I’d pull a Mucha for the mass of hair that’s flowing down.  

I hope that made sense haha. And don’t panic! Drawing hair can kinda be therapeutic, there’s no easy or fast way around it, so just take your time.

Death Cannot

This is for @upthenorthmountain, and I want to state for the record that it is all her fault :P This started as an anonymous fic in her inbox, because she promised that she could handle the angst when I told her I had an idea that would make everyone would hate me. But then life got out of control and I never finished the story, so I collected the bits and rewrote them a bit and added a conclusion. And I’m very sorry, in advance, please direct complaints to @upthenorthmountain because did I mention that this is her fault? This is her fault (also it is dedicated to her, thanks for putting up with my plot bunnies, Anna <3)

EDIT: Also, this fic has a short epilogue–Reunion.

  • Death Cannot 
  • Rating: G
  • Words: 4025
  • Warning: Character death
  • KA Harvest Fest Prompt: Haunting
  • “Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.” - The Princess Bride

Kristoff crouched down on the floor and surveyed the area under the bed critically. “No monsters here,” he announced.

A chubby little finger pointed to the closet. He got up with a grunt and went to open it, revealing a row of brightly colored dresses, a few shelves of folded clothes, an overflowing bin of blocks and other toys. Kristoff solemnly examined them all.

“No monsters here either,” he said, but he left the light on anyway.

The little girl in the crib was three and a half, her red hair just long enough to form two little pigtails. It was very important, he had learned, for her hair to be in pigtails before bed. Ella’s hair had an amazing capacity for knots, and there had been a few times when he’d worried that he’d be forced it cut it off. Kristoff stroked a hand over her head. He bent down to kiss her forehead and tucked up her blanket.

“You’re always safe,” he promised. “There’s someone watching over you.”

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dodgeballobsessed  asked:

Hi! Can you expand on why the fandom seem to have negative feelings about the you & I video, other than not liking Ben Winston? You've brought it up in the Zayn post and I'm curious. Thanks!

Could you point me in the direction of or answer for me how the “You and I” video was plagiarized and how Harry almost died on the set? I’ve not been in the fandom very long and have not heard this.

hey, I saw your latest post and was wondering what happened to Harry during the filming of You and I? (google only gave me some HP stuff and some “news”‘articles abt how H has “killed” us…)

Okay so a lot of people (and by a lot I mean three) are asking about this so here I go.


We all remember the video for “You and I”…

I personally really like this video. So much so that i just watched it three times rapid fire when I went to go get the link to paste in here. 

So many iconic moments…Like this Larry gem:

The Ziam moments I was too Larry-goggled to notice:

Also the technology they used seemed brand new right? WRONG. This exact video had been produced months earlier by a band called Clubfeet. You don’t even have to get a minute into their video to see that it is practically the exact same video but without the freezing British weather and seaside. 

It’s identical at many points. Most notably this one:

It did not go unnoticed by the band or the production company who originally used the cinematography techniques:

Here’s more about how they were indeed the ones to actually create the visual effects used.

So yeah, people weren’t happy with Ben Winston for that. And as far as I know Ben’s never addressed the issue nor has One Direction. They did win a Brit award for best video for it, though. Hence people still being a bit bitter, especially in Oh Yeah Wow’s case. 

As for Harry almost dying, I remember that day well because I was listening to Radio 1 and I am pret-ty sure the day they were filming was the day that Matt Healey from The 1975 did Call or Delete with Harry and Harry mentioned they were on location in Bristol or wherever on live radio and then later that day there were fans who got photos with Liam. It was early in the year and fookin freezin as Louis would say. I was sat comfortably in my office but yeah if it’s freezing in London it’s positively arctic on the coasts of England. Which is why Harry looked like this in between takes:

“Just leave me here to die…”

THEN, for the “Night Changes” video people were heated that Ben Winston used exclusively white girls for the dates for the boys. 

I can’t find gifs for the other three and don’t want to post shitty screen shots, so you can see for yourself here:

Then there was the Four Hangout where Ben interviewed the boys and was met with collective apathy to the entire shebang.

Then Ben asked the classic, “Any rumours you want to clear up?” As if they could sit there and truthfully answer that on a live stream so Louis just…

Anyway. Yeah, that’s why in general people aren’t massive fans of ol’ BW. He is doing quite a stellar job producing the Late Late Show with James Corden though, so I don’t personally think he’s all bad. The “You and I” thing is annoying, but who knows? Maybe a copyright case was settled out of court. 

So that’s it as far as I’m aware.

nfdskjnfdskj okay so. Hi. Derp. So first of all, this photo op idea was not mine. It was actually my mother’s after I told her that my Dean!Bear (that my lovely Kiki made for me for Christmas) should get a chance to be in a photo op with his life sized alter ego. 

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albertodominic  asked:

Okay, so you know I'm new to the fandom.... so what's the drama with "snowbarry"????? Besides that it's a brother and sister ship????

Lol so the thing about SB is that people literally only started shipping it after Candice was announced as playing Iris before that everyone was chill and not even discussing shipping anything outside of comic canon but then Iris was cast and all of a sudden she “doesn’t look right” and “has no chemistry with Grant” and a bunch of other bullshit and mind you this was before the show even aired all this came from casting and promos.

Then came the promo where Caitlin asked Barry to piss into a cup and all the fangirls were in a tizzy (I’m being deadass serious like they had no meaningful glances or shit she just asked the nigga to piss into a cup) and then all of a sudden their chemistry was so palpable and so much better than what Barry and Iris were sure to have.

So the season premieres and every episode Iris is apparently doing something wrong whether it be breathing, (while black) smiling, (while black), getting Barry’s dick in a tizzy cause he’s thirsty as hell (while black) or just existing as the female lead and love interest for Barry Allen (while black) point is the poor girl couldn’t catch a damn break. She was too much of a damsel despite the fact that they love when Caitlin has to be saved and Iris has saved numerous people on this show including herself and Caitlin.
There were in depth metas on how Iris wasn’t really supportive of Barry and just wanted the flash despite the fact that her first meeting with the flash consisted of her asking him to help her best friend and the fact that she’s literally been unswerving in her loyalty and belief in Barry since they were like ten.

Now while all this is going on hate blogs for both Candice and Iris are sprouting up left and right. People white washing photos of Candice and saying this is the “right” Iris. People posting photos of her with the caption “pig” over her face. Photoshopping her lips to look huge. Writing meta that was widely circulated around tumblr that Caitlin was secretly the real Iris from the comics with the evidence being varying degrees of “she’s white and standing near Barry” or “she’s white and drinking coffee next to Barry” or my personal favorite “ She’s white standing next to Barry AND she’s wearing a blue coat like comic Iris wore that one time)

Candice was also receiving shit the entire time (which makes the fact that people are mad that she spoke up to this one hater a few days ago even more hilarious cause like??? She’s been getting shit for damn near a year and a half and she finally speaks up and ya’ll wanna get an attitude like she really popped off and snatched you like I would have if I were in her position) people leaving slurs and death threats in her mentions calling her a monkey lamenting about how sad it was precious lily white Barry was in love and had to kiss a nigger and possibly even *gasp of interracial shock* father her children. Now during all of this and as a matter of fact still to this day Iris/Westallen fans are being treated as the fucking criminals. We’re too “dramatic” and “use racism as an art form” we’re the ones that are apparently angry and aggressive and subjected to annoying peace posts in the tag about how we should all just get along and that ships don’t matter as if WE weren’t the ones staying in our lane minding our business shipping our shit and stanning our fave and that we HAVE to be protective that we HAVE to be vigilant in defense of Iris or our voices will be drowned out by a bunch of whiny privileged fucks who think the worst thing that can happen to them is being called out for being racist instead of creating a safe space for fans that are black or who support black women.

Lmao I’m sorry I rambled but yeah I personally don’t get SB at all but my problem is more that the ship was literally built on marginalizing a black women from her role while the media and co give attention to that clusterfuck of a ship and fandom.



Okay I had to do one dumb Achievement Hunter reference I’m sorry guys.

The Achievement Hunter blanket has been my on again/off again project for almost a year. I’m pretty terrible with drawing but I like to think I’m pretty nifty with a crochet hook. I wanted a way to show not only the iconic AH logo but the Tower of Pimps because Minecraft Lets Plays are the best okay? So this is me trying to show how much I love each and every member of the AH crew. Y'all are hard working and hilarious and awesome and I hope you know just how much we all appreciate what you do.

The rundown:

  • Roughly 6’ x 6’
  • Made up of 121 individual granny square blocks
  • If you connected all the yarn and pulled it into a straight line it would be about 2 miles long.
  • That little girl in the black and white photo is my baby sister, affectionately nicknamed Bean. She is the best helper. As can be seen in this photo.
  • The best helper.
  • Blanket is also an excellent nap aid

anonymous asked:

Can you do a little guide to Motionless in White? I'm new to the band and I'm still trying to place the faces to the names.

It’s so cool when people come to for info on MIW hehe. Well okay I will try and do my best. I can’t upload more than one pic in a message for some reason so I will try to describe them as best I can. Here we go!

Chris “Motionless” Cerulli (Lead singer) aka the Tall one who you sometimes see without eyebrows. 
Chris is a sweetheart with a great sense of humor and an amazing sense of self. He is the tallest and maybe the most outgoing. I blog about the band a shit ton but I try not to get in too deep with knowing the guys as people thru interviews. If I was going to get to know them I’d want to do it personally.

Devin “Ghost” Sola (plays bass) aka the infamous Snapchat cross dresser who dresses up in costume for a lot of the shows and photoshoots.
Devin likes Tim Burton characters and is known for his racy snapchat photos and the porn on his blog. Never go there if you are in a room with other people. 

Ricky “Horror” Olson (rhythm guitar) aka the one who rarely smiles, spaces out and has great legs.
Ricky has a great sense of humor, he’s not afraid to have fun even though you don’t really see him smiling a lot. He’s the short one that girls used to confuse with Andy Sixx from Black Veil Brides.

Ryan Sitkowski (lead guitarist) who I actually do not know all that much about.
It’s not that I don’t care about Ryan I just haven’t seen many interviews of him. He smokes, he and Ricky make a great team in interviews. He’s the youngest and dropped out of school to go on tour so you know he is dedicated.

Josh “Balz” (synths and keyboard) aka the mechanical man with the beautiful girlfriend he runs a kickass shop with as instagrams the most hilarious photos.
Balz is an amazing guy. He interacts with the fans through social media the most from what I’ve seen. He likes TUK footwear and the mechanical cog theme in his tattoos. He’s the one with the bigger gauges in his ears, Chris also has them but they are smaller.

Then there’s Vinny. He has been drumming for them this year. I dunno shit about him. He’s cool I guess. He’s cute and he drums. That’s all I know xD

For an all you can eat buffet on info though go visit balz-probably-hates-you or motionjessinwhite or @webs-we-weave

1D Preference: AU Photography


Zayn: You’re not a typical member of the paparazzi. Because first of all, you’re a girl and you’re fresh out of college with the small magazine you worked for shoving a, very expensive, camera into your grasp and giving you a shove out the door. But the more intriguing thing about you, to Zayn anyway, is that you don’t invade your “job’s” personal space. He wouldn’t have spotted you in the first place if he wouldn’t have been looking toward the back of the group. And sure enough, above all the grown men, arm boxing with each other in an attempt to get the brightest and best picture of the One Direction star, you’re nestled in the back row, camera clutched in your fingers like a small child as you peer nervously at his approaching figure. And, even through his tight lipped smile at the others, he offers you a bright grin as he parts the crowd to step toward you. His fingers find your wrist, gripping lightly as he leans in to inquire softly, “Would you like a picture, love?”

Liam: Sometimes it’s a pain in the ass to have a photography student as a boyfriend. Like when you’re prancing around the house in leggings and his t-shirt with the most God-awful hair and he thinks it’s an acceptable time to have a photo session. Or that time in the airport when he nearly got his camera confiscated because it set off the alarm on the metal detectors. Yet other times it’s nice, like early one morning when he wakes up before you, puppy dog brown eyes peering nervously at you as he asks to do a shoot today. And this shoot happens to be out in a field of flowers (with a chair strangely already there), you dressed in a pretty sun dress, and him for some odd reason wearing a dress shirt and tie. And it’s halfway through the shoot when he orders you to sit down, pressing a button on his camera that sets a red light blinking as he strides nervously toward you. The red light then goes solid, and he’s down on one knee with a shaky smile, and the shutter’s clicking repeatedly with each passing moment; your hands over your mouth, his arms around your waist, your lips connecting as he spins you around and around, all caught on camera. That’s when it's definitely nice.

Niall: “So I’ve been doing some reading..” Your eyebrows immediately shot to your hairline at that statement, bringing your gaze up from your red and white photo album. He’s standing above you with a thin book clasped in his fingers, the title worn and the library sticker in the corner chipped and peeled. Yet the crusty paint on the outside says something about photography (although the first two o’s are no where to be found) and that immediately perks you up. “Yeah?” You cocked an eyebrow. “Well,” he settled himself on his knees in front of you, sliding the book across the coffee table toward you, “this book says most beginning photographers should do a nude photo shoot of some sort. And you know, if you wanted to..” Creases immediately wiggled to your forehead, “The studio’s asked me to do a few already Ni. They have models I can use..” “Are you saying I’m not model material?” His tone was playful but his eyes didn’t hold the same amusement, and neither did his pouted bottom lip. You smirked, crawling around the table to plop down beside him, your lips pressing to the side of his neck, “Or I could call them back and tell them I found a model of my own..”

Harry: “Am I doing okay?” Your teeth captured the corner of your lip, biting down lightly as you stared at him for confirmation. His eyes lifted over his camera, plump red lips slanted sideways as he hesitated. “Well, no offense, love, but you don’t look the happiest to be here..” You frowned, eyebrows drawing together as you cocked your head at him. Your mouth parted to protest, but he was already laughing, his finger wagging in your direction, “See, that’s what I mean! Smile!” Your lips drew back and curled, but even you could feel that your smile was fake, to which he let out a loud sigh at. Sliding his finger over a few buttons on the camera, he slid out from around it, making his way toward you. His moss green eyes held a mischievous glint and his lips curled lightly on one end into a smirk, kneeling down beside you. You didn’t have a chance to question as his fingers dug into your sides, earning a fit of giggles from you. And in that moment, it seemed like it was just the two of you as he continued to furiously tickle at your sides, yet the camera behind you captured every minute of it, earning that genuine smile Harry was wanting, and saving a moment of happiness forever, too.

Louis: “Did the pictures turn out okay?” His presence startled you, hands falling to your hips as he peered over your shoulder at the collection of pictures spread out across the table. And it was quite the collection, capturing every aspect of your boyfriend that you loved. His bright personality through every little feature that crinkled and brightened when he smiled or laughed. Every aspect of how he was truly beautiful in the sense of the word through your own form of artwork. And even his athleticism, forcing him to put on his football kit and cleats so you could take pictures of him kicking a ball around the back yard. “Hmm?” He hummed again, attempting to elicit a response as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “They turned out perfect!” You gushed quietly, thrusting a few of the prints in your hand in his general direction. “See this one has perfect lighting and it outlines your..” You rambled for a few minutes, shoving print after print into his hand. And he listened and took each one, finding each thing you pointed out to him in the pictures of himself. It was about ten minutes into this that he gently removed the objects in both of your hands, placing them back on the table as his arms secured around your waist, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So does this mean I’m a pretty good model?”