this still makes me laugh every single time

I wish I knew the right words to say when it came down to writing about someone who makes you feel like flowers are growing inside of your chest. I wish I knew how to explain the way you make me feel when it’s two in the morning and we’re both laughing over something that probably wasn’t even that funny but to other people, our laughs make it seem like it was the world. I wish I knew how to tell people just how really beautiful you are, because when you are there, whether you’re laying down or pacing back and fourth, talking about the things that excite you the most, or just about anything in general that makes you happy, your eyes hold a certain kind of light beneath them that makes me want to never look away. Or when you laugh, my god, when you laugh, I never want it to stop because you do this thing where you tilt your head back and cover your mouth at the last moment after you already been so loud, shaking your head and every single time, I’d think, I wouldn’t mind hearing you laugh for the rest of my life. And when you yell, which is very rare, is scary because you can be there, veins standing at attention and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, even if I’m driving you insane. Don’t worry though, you drive me insane too. And I wish I knew how to explain the way my hands shake when I think about losing you, or the way my chest tightens to the thought of you being with someone else who isn’t me, because it messes with my mind sometimes and I get fustrated, because only I want to know your favorite book to the way you hate wearing that poka dot shirt, or how you eat when you’re nervous and can’t seem to stop making a mess. But you always been a messy eater so I don’t mind. I fell in love with you and although you are not perfect because you do have your moments, I promise I will love you again and again and again because I am not perfect either but if I am here, holding my heart out to you, and you are there, doing the same, I swear we both can be non-perfect messes together. And I’m trying not to be too cheesy here, because you always did say I buttered you up too much so for now I’ll leave it off with an I love you and an I’ll love you forever until my very last breath and an I am so lucky you decided to choose me.
—  A.M// to jake, maybe loving you isn’t so bad after all.


The prime example of what you used to be able to find in random YouTube search terms. I think I’ve tried to fit references to this clip in half the things I’ve ever worked on (Not sure what’s wrong with me). This bizarre sketch, its pacing, its execution, all together form the PERFECT bad sketch, one that STILL makes me laugh JUST AS HARD a decade later. I don’t know how they didn’t do it by design- every single ingredient here is perfect. Unintentionally, one of the funniest clips of all time. 

Tomorrow- the Honorable Mentions list before #1!

Imagine : tom is doing some single shots while you do some funny ones on the other screen ; tom laughs before creating major red-carpet PDA

“(Y/n) ! (Y/n) ! Do some funny poses ” a photographer shouts as tom did some singles on the other screen . Happily you jumped in your heels , very carefully , and did a smiling leg out jump ➖➖➖➖➖ ➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖ Tom looked over and laughed before apologising and walking out to you . From behind he circles his arms around you waist , making you jump in shock for a moment , and then you turned around just meeting his soft lips in time “ mrs.(y/n) hiddleston you still capture me every time” he said as he trailed a finger along your check

Originally posted by maryxglz

why do i love him?

less than a week from her wedding, emma swan drafts her wedding vows.

~800 words

Why do I love him?

The words glared indignantly up at Emma from the page as if mocking her.  She let a groan escape her chapped lips and her head slump onto the kitchen table.  The wedding was less than a week away, but she was still ironing out her vows.  She knew Killian would have no trouble with them; he’d been getting excessively philosophical over the last few days, spouting Nicholas Sparks quotes one after the other until she threw the books at him. Somehow, he always knew exactly what to say.

But with her, it was different.  The way she felt when she saw him – the way her heart fluttered so delicately with each rise and fall of his chest—was impossible to put into words.  At least, not into words her father wouldn’t faint at when she recited them at the altar.

She reluctantly picked up her pencil and tried to begin her list.

Because he makes me grilled cheese for breakfast.

He made practically everything for breakfast, in fact.  Except pancakes.  Those were her specialty.

Because he’s there for me before I even ask.

That one sounded deep. She put a star next to that one.  

He’s a good kisser.

He was good at more than just kissing, she noted to herself.  But her parents might not necessarily approve of an in-depth study of her husband’s many talents in bed.  She moved on.

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LOYALTY (Series)

***Gangster AU*** 

PART I. The Beginning

Trust me.

That was the last thing Rome told me before he pushed me over the building’s ledge. My life flashed before my eyes in the few moments that were left before I hit whatever waited for me at the bottom. The funny thing was, the only memories that I could remember were all the ones we shared together. Fuck my life.

This time I didn’t fall for the wrong guy. I fell for the worst one. How is it that I manage to find the best among the worst every single time? But Rome was different. I knew it in my gut.

The night I met him, I automatically made lists of all the stupid things we could do together. Just by the five seconds he grabbed my shoulder and told me that the tag on my Versace dress was still on. Cupid kicked me when he yanked the tag off and threw it on the floor before headed to the building I was just exiting.

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“Forget Me.” pt. 8

Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst

Format: Text Post

pt.1  pt.2  pt. 3  pt. 4  pt. 5  pt. 6  pt. 7  pt. 8  pt. 9  pt. 10  pt. 11 pt. 12  pt. 13  pt. 13.5 (End)

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Y/N’s p.o.v

I don’t think anyone could ever understand how much it means to me when you make the time to see me. Even with how packed your schedule is, how busy you may be, how tired you were - you always did your best for me. I’m grateful to say the least. How did I ever get this lucky to have you in my life? You picked me up when I had nothing left. You helped me so much when I was going through the roughest part of my life. But I have a new found rough patch in life, and that’s leaving you.

I saw you that day, I saw how bright your smile was even though you were on the verge of collapsing from the lack of sleep. I didn’t want you to leave that next morning, I didn’t want to say goodbye. I’m selfish. I found out a while ago, but I couldn’t tell you - not when you’re at the peak of your career. Not when you were so happy. I couldn’t let you leave in a couple of weeks feeling guilty, feeling sorry. I just couldn’t. 

My excuse was, when I found out I had to go, it was already too late. I couldn’t stay. I wanted to spend more time with you, but you were busy and I know that’s not your fault and I don’t blame you at all but I wish I could have said goodbye in person. That was my biggest regret. 

I blame myself, because although you were busy I couldn’t come out to see you on final time before you had to leave for tour. But then again I’m glad you were busy because I wouldn’t know how to explain without breaking down right in front of you. 

I thought about you, day in and day out. You never left my mind even for a second, I got to see you in my dreams and fulfil a few things on my bucket list in there that I wasn’t able to fulfil with you in person.

 I still remember the way you ran your fingers through your hair as you walked out my front door. The way you turned back from the elevator doors and looked at me shouting ‘I love you’ before stepping in and leaving. 

I remember every single moment that we’ve had together over the last six years. You became my everything, my home in such little time because home is where the heart is right? You were someone I entrusted my life with. Someone I couldn’t live without. You were my hope, the light of my life, my sunshine who never failed to make smile and laugh. We had our ups and downs, but what couple didn’t? 

You always told me how much you love me, how much I meant to you. You’d bring up past times and we’d laugh about it. You’d tell me how you thought I was crazy because I only knew how to laugh when I fell off that swing set. The very same swing set I’d meet you at every night for seven months after I had first met you, until we officially started dating. I remember how much of a gentleman you were, you’d be there at ten thirty in the evening sharp with a cup of hot coffee for me and a cup of hot chocolate for you because you didn’t like the bitter-sweet taste of coffee.

I saw my whole future ahead with you, and I’m sorry that that future got cut short. I’m sorry I can’t be around anymore to keep it going, even after all our promises. Leaving you behind was never my intention, that thought never even crossed my mind once. I’m sorry Jimin. 

Today you finally got your plane and left for tour, I hope you have fun baby because now, it’s my turn to go too. 

I was listening to some depressing piano music whilst writing this and deadass started crying lol ._.

Request for pt. 9! 

You want to know why I love you? Because there are no words to describe how I feel when I’m around you. It’s just this indescribable feeling of happiness that I only get with you. Because your arms are home, I feel safe with you, I finally feel loved and accepted by someone I care about. Because your smile is totally contagious, and your laugh makes me the happiest person on earth. Because every time I see you, I still get butterflies. Every. damn. time. Because there’s no one else I’d rather be with. Not a single other person can make my heart feel the way you do when I’m with you. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for saying this, but I love you. And I don’t want to lose you, because I don’t know what I would do when I lose both my best friend and my lover at once. Because I have always loved you, ever since I met you, and although sometimes the words fall short, the feelings are always there. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, and that’s the truth. I just want you to be happy… I just also hope that happiness can continue to be with me…
—  we have something real, and there’s no way I’m letting you go this easily // 8:39am // 5.28.17
crush // v.m.p.

you are seven the first time you hear the word crush. it sounds bad, wrong, not fun. a boy has just stolen your football, said to you “girls can’t play with this.” he tells you to go back to your skipping rope. you do. he’s what your mum would call a bully, he’s not worth your time, she’d say. she always says that when lauren mocks you for your lisp, always tells you not to get too involved. so you don’t. when you get home you tell her all about it, how an annoying boy stole what was rightfully yours – you’re angry, vengeful, upset – whilst your mum simply laughs. “he must have a crush on you,” she says, and you stare at her, shocked. you have never seen your mother not take you seriously. you have never heard this word either.

you are ten when a boy smiles at you across the field. he scurries back to his friends quickly after. your own friends are more excited about this than you are – “he probably likes you!” “you’re so lucky, it’s because you’re so loud!” you hear the word ‘lucky’ and feel important, special to someone. you want to be liked. you want to be loved. next time you spy what’s-his-face across the football pitch, you make sure to smile back. you can play these games, you can become the likeable girl. if it’s a competition you’re sure you can win, and that’s what this is. you look at your friends and suddenly you see competitors. it doesn’t feel fun, being in love.

you are eleven when you first kiss a boy. or he kisses you, you can’t quite recall. it is all action and reaction, the way your lips feel dry and it doesn’t feel as good as you expected it to. one kiss after another, no words pass between you and the mystery boy. there are no “I love you’s”, no passion, no meaning behind it. he leaves at the end of the day when all is said and done, after pulling you aside, whispering, “don’t tell anyone.” you wonder if he’s embarrassed of you. vaguely, you think you recall the same boy kissing another girl in the parking lot before summer camp. he has a girlfriend, you soon find out. romance is dead, you realise.

you are thirteen when you have your first boyfriend. he wants to be a rugby player, but this isn’t why you love him – he’s a musician, a pianist. he sends you videos of him playing songs dedicated to you, and you realise this may be the first time a boy has treated you kindly. you make things official – of course you had to be the one to ask – and you tell your friends. “I have a boyfriend,” you say triumphantly. your friends are happy for you, they really are – but they don’t like this boy and you know it. “he’s always putting you down,” your friend tells you, desperately trying to cheer you up after an argument. he’s been telling you your taste in music is shit, and quite frankly it was music that got you into this mess in the first place. you break up with him and focus on yourself. a boy is a bully is not boyfriend material.

you are fifteen when two unexpected things happen. you date a boy who may as well be perfect for you, and you start to notice a female friend in a new way. the tilt of her chin before she laughs, the way the sun catches her auburn eyes. it is a distraction, and not a welcome one. why can’t you be pretty? you feel threatened, you feel not enough. you never want to be alone again. your boyfriend is your sole consolation. “you’re beautiful,” he tells you, and sometimes you think you believe him. “way better than her,” he assures, and suddenly, you can’t. you can’t stop thinking about it, talking to him about it. you worry you’re talking him into loving her, so you split before he has the chance to leave you. your friends liked this one – they’re disappointed.

you are sixteen and you’ve had three boyfriends in the past five months. apparently, this makes you a slut. it is your friend who uses the word first, jokingly, and you remember laughing. other people start using it, though you can’t recall when it took on such a degrading tone. there is spite in it, but you play it right back – “at least I can get a boyfriend,” you snarl, breaking ties with the friend who first brought this ugly word upon you. it’s her fault, you decide. after all, she doesn’t understand. she doesn’t understand that none of them are interesting, that they’ve all been nice, charming, but it’s still not enough for you. you worry that you fall for every boy who’s nice to you. maybe they were right after all. when you ditch your friend, she calls you a “bitch.” and, well – maybe you are.

you are eighteen and you are a slut. you’ve had a long string of guys and you’re worried they’ll start to think you aren’t trying. your mum loves your current boyfriend. truthfully, he’s everything you’ve ever appreciated in a person. sharp, well-spoken, patient. he’s smart and he’s shooting for the moon. he wants to go to oxford university to study law, he wants to travel the world with you, he wants to marry you, and you aren’t sure why. you’ve been with him for seven months. you’ve reconciled with your friend. everyone likes him. everything is as it should be except it’s not. you don’t want to sleep with him. he’s mused about it before but is too nice to ask upfront. you can’t see yourself with him, travelling with him, marrying him – you are not his wife. you tell him this and he argues with you, says, “but I love you.” you cry in each other’s arms, but you know it’s over. maybe you killed romance.

you are nineteen and you’re out clubbing. at least that’s what you’ve been told, but you’re mostly babysitting your drunk friend. clearly you’ll be the one driving tonight. it seems like everyone is wasted, and you’re standing by the bar when you notice yourself noticing. there’s a girl across the room with dark skin and curly hair. she’s wearing a short, tight-fitted skirt and you know this because you’ve been glancing over at her all night. she’s doing the same. she gives you an obvious once-over and you shiver, turning away. less than a minute later and she’s by your side, ordering you a drink. you feel knots in your stomach and you politely refuse – suddenly you feel woozy, and she gently touches your arm, asks if you want to dance. pin-pricks race up from where her skin brushed yours. you want to accept, you step towards her, but then you think twice, hear the word slut echo through your mind. you leave soon after. you never see the girl again, but you can imagine her vividly when you close your eyes.

you are twenty when you tell your friends you might like girls. two of them are shocked, immediately placing a label into the equation that you never gave yourself – “oh, so you’re bi. when did this happen?” you say you don’t know, but you know that’s not true. you think back to when you were fifteen, to your disbelief your friend even exists, your disbelief your boyfriend couldn’t be interested. you think about this for a long time. you remember not wanting to sleep with boys. you remember you are not his wife when by now, you could’ve been. it is your other friend, your best friend, who isn’t shocked. she walks you back to your accommodation, asks you, “are you gay?” you say you think so, and she hugs you. it’s a lovely moment and you’ll always remember it. you don’t worry you might be in love with her. you know what love feels like now.

you are twenty-two and you have a crush. it seems like such a lovely word now. it doesn’t make you feel bitter, or angry. it makes you feel absolutely everything just that little more vividly, like you’re coming into being for the first and last time. she has copper hair and freckles and you imagine stringing them together into constellations. you imagine her taking you out. you imagine things like kissing, touching, breathing in the scent of each other and it feels weird but then it feels normal. you imagine things late at night when you’re cold and lonely that shock and embarrass you. you hear your peers sneering slut at you across the classroom in your mind. your best friend laughs when you call her at midnight. “it’s normal,” she tells you, “you’re just in love.”

you are twenty-three when you ask her out. she tells you she was waiting for you to ask, that she’d been dropping hints for months but couldn’t quite tell whether you felt the same. like all things, you think about it. how you’d stay up late at night texting her, drive down into the city to see her whenever you had the opportunity. how you called her a “good friend” when your mother asked. how you were afraid to be caught falling, scared of what it could mean, crying at night that you have an inability to love anyone properly. you ask her if she thinks you’re a slut. “how many guys have you been with?” she asks. you’re too unsure to be offended – something like fifteen, you say. she laughs. “you could tell me you’d dated every single guy you’ve ever laid eyes on and I wouldn’t think you’re a slut.” you tell her you’ve never dated a girl. you ask if that still makes you a lesbian. she looks at you seriously. “you just like girls?” you nod. “that sounds pretty gay to me.”

you are twenty-four when everything comes full circle. you are with your best friend and your girlfriend. you’re going home to visit your mum, and this time there will be no mincing your words. there will be no “good friend”. there is no slut, there is no shame, there is no doubt anymore. there will also be no boy, which is undoubtedly what your mother is expecting. when you arrive she is happy to see you, but you can tell she’s surprised. she invites you all inside before you can explain. your best friend offers to go and make some tea, gives you a look that says you’ve got this. you settle down on the sofa, thinking about copper curls and hips and curves and freckles and eyelashes and the quiet intimacy of catching eyes with a girl across a dance floor, how you can iterate that to someone who doesn’t understand. “mum,” you start, your voice shaking. “mum, one time, a couple of years ago, I had a crush.”

you are twenty-four and it’s taken you this long, but rest-assured no one can take this from you now.

Monsta X reaction to finding you fast asleep w/ their clothes on

Request: “Hi can you please make a reaction where the boys (all. Sorry if it’s too much ㅠ.ㅠ) find you sleeping on their clothes.” -anon

Hey anon! Thank you so much for requesting this and I really appreciate it :) I hope you like it! :) If you want to read more, click here! credits to all of the owners of these gifs :)

Originally posted by wonkyuns

Shownu; Shownu would be really giddy about it. Coming home after a stressful day, he would find you fast asleep on the couch wearing his over-sized shirt and shorts. All of his stress would be gone in an instant and a fatherly smile would appear of his face. Look at how cuddly he looks ;u; 

He would kneel down and lovingly stare at you, caressing your cheeks and pushing away the strands of hair covering your face before carrying you back to your room.

Originally posted by kihqun

Jooheon; By the time he lays eyes on you fast asleep with his sweater on, he would try to wake you up with a pout on his face. Despite the fact the groans and whines you give him, he still continues to wake you up. He couldn’t bear the look on your face as it gave him so much feels.

When you finally gave up and decided to wake up on behalf of your dear sleep, he would whine and say, “Babeee, why are you wearing my sweater and look so cute in it? If you continue to wear things like this I might not be able to control myself.”

Originally posted by wonho-shin

Wonho; Being the Wonho that he is, he would literally find you sexy but at the same time cute. As soon as he steps foot on your room, his eyes would slowly observe your sleeping figure but a smile would appear on his face when he see’s that you’re wearing his hoodie and sweats. 

He would hurriedly remove his clothes and wear his pajamas before plopping his whole body beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist and would whisper things like, ‘Jagi, you’re so cute.’ ‘How can you also be hot and sexy at the same time?’, despite the fact you’re already fast asleep.

Originally posted by chiqkihyun

Kihyun; When he came home after their World Tour, he hurriedly went home, only to see you fast asleep in his hamster onesie. At first he would think ‘What’s up with her?’ but then soon realizes how much you’ve missed him. He would chuckle and smile to himself. 

He would probably pull out his camera and take pictures of you, checking at every single preview of the shots he took, thinking of how cute you looked. I think his photo shoot of you would take a good fifteen minutes before joining you to bed, wrapping his arms around you, laughing to himself before drfiting off to dreamland.

Originally posted by colorthekpop

I.M; With you just wearing his shirt and a really short short, he wouldn’t really know how to react by it. Should he cover you up? Wink at you even though you’re fast sleep? But then, the craziest thing would come into his mind. After changing into his pajamas, he would lay beside you and poke you anywhere until you wake up.

By the moment you open up your eyes, he would start winking at you, giving you kissy faces and other seductive typical Changkyun expressions. “Rawrr, you look so hot babe. RAAAWWRRR!”  

Originally posted by chiqkihyun

Minhyuk; Minhyuk would probably notice it by the minute he steps foot on the living room. He would be so ecstatic about it, trying to stop himself from squealing at how cute you looked with his stripped jacked and shorts on. But then he would fail since he couldn’t control his feels from screaming his heart out. 

You would be awaken by his screaming, rubbing your eyes while searching for the source of noise, only to make him scream more. “You’re so cute, jagiya! Omo, I should buy the two of us couple shirts! Or I should give you some of my clothes so that I can come home to this every single day!”

Originally posted by minyeossi

Hyungwon; Well, let me tell you something. This boy, unlike Minhyuk, he wILL not be able to notice what you’re wearing right away. All he could ever think of was get changed and sleep right away. By the minute he wakes up, he still wouldn’t notice it even though you were still fast asleep. 

But then by the time he notices it, he would laugh and would shake you by the arm, waking you up with a big smile plastered on his lovely face. “Aww, babe, you’re wearing my shirt… aww, it looks like a dress on you.” Well, he’d be laughing his butt off when you looked like a kid wearing a shirt that looks like a dress on you.

I can relate to American Idiot in a personal manner so much that for me it is impossible not to love this album. The stories, the characters, the emotions and the feelings, they are so overwhelming and so vividly captured. I hear my own dreams and demons in it and there’s even more to that. I could talk for hours and hours about how I love this great album yet at the same time I feel like I cannot even find a single word to describe what I feel. It makes me wanna laugh and cry and shout and meditate all at once. It shapes me, it changes me. Even though rationally I am well aware that not every person, not every one who love or has ever loved Green Day, has to love American Idiot, still sensationally I’m like, “How could anyone not love American Idiot?

A Fine Life

This fic was inspired by the amazing art of @bluuesparrow / @moineau-bleu! Happy birthday blue! I hope you had a wonderful day full of surprises and best wishes! Hope you enjoy this fic! You are an incredible friend and I’m so happy to have met you through our mutual love for Gajevy haha

Quick reminder! Blue is offering art commissions! And I’m involve along with some other awesome writers with a special offering to write a drabble for an additional $1 with said commission. Go check the details out!

Pairing: Gajevy

Words count: 5.5k 

Rating: T


Seahorses are among those species that mate for life. Once one dies, the other will soon die too. They can’t live without the other. That’s why people say seahorses die from heartbreak.

Levy’s life was something most people wanted for themselves. She had a beautiful apartment with a nice view to the oldest district in Magnolia; she had her dream job at the local library and was a part-time Literature teacher at a nearby high school; her social life wasn’t bad either since she had some friends to hang out with every once in a while.

Levy’s life was definitely fine, but she always felt like something was missing in it.

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Yesterday was the first day that I didn’t cry since I heard the news about you leaving us. They say that grief is a process, that you go through stages, but all my thoughts and feelings are jumbled and nothing really makes sense to me. When my mum burst through my bedroom door to find me and Jack laughing, blissfully unaware, she immediately knew I hadn’t heard. That’s because she knew I would be doing the opposite of laughing. When the words “Chester Bennington’s died” clawed into my consciousness, I could do nothing but try to breathe. It’s not the first time I’ve felt like I’ve taken a hard punch to the gut, the only difference was that when this happened in the past, your presence still graced this Earth. I turned to your voice, your lyrics, your music, your laughter, your goofiness every single time I could do nothing but try to breathe. You have kept me breathing since I was 12 years old when depression and anxiety first hit me. You kept me breathing when all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball, fall asleep and never wake up again. You understood because you’d been there too. You knew what it was like to have demons that never go away, you knew pain and suffering, you knew what it was like to have to battle with yourself daily. I know this because you sang and screamed about it with such fire, you managed to voice all of my thoughts and feelings and helped me to understand them. The day I started listening to Linkin Park was the day I realised I wasn’t alone. You did this for so many people, I think more than you ever possibly imagined. You saved countless people with your words and your voice, if it wasn’t proven before, it’s definitely been proven now. I hope wherever you are, you can see the amount of memorials being held for you, the endless drawings, posters, letters, flowers and candles that have been laid down for you. It’s because we feel we owe so much to you for burning so bright in a world of darkness. I’ve felt a lot of things over the past few days but I’ve felt guilt the most. You saved me but I couldn’t save you. That’s something I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. I just hope you knew how much you were, are and always will be loved. Thank you for being so open, it helped me to be too. I’ll always cherish seeing you perform live, that was my happy place, letting go and singing/screaming/dancing like an absolute fool but not giving a care in the world because you were right in front of me. It was proof that my hero was real. One recurring thought I’ve had is ‘what am I supposed to do? If my hero can’t make it, how the fuck can I? If Chester couldn’t take it anymore then surely that means that there’s no hope. Things will never get better.’ I’m sure there are plenty of others who have thought along the same lines. The truth is that depression is subjective, I can’t say what you thought or felt in the moments before you took your life. I feel like screaming every time I think of the possibility that you felt alone because you weren’t. Because of you, I know that I’m not alone and that’s what has saved me and continues to save me everyday even when I feel like giving up so thank you. Thank you for being my hero and saving me even when you couldn’t save yourself, I’m just glad that you’ve found peace now.  

I don’t resent you. There are many reasons why you’re missed. I will keep you in my memories. 
I’ll leave out all the rest. ♥

You left me-Part One

Originally posted by holyhalehottness

Summary: Love always seems to an enemy in our little world and in some ways, it can be because love can make you feel a different kind of pain that you don’t ever want to feel. Brett Talbot was the kind of guy that made you feel like a different person but in a good way, he was the kind of guy that made you fall head over heels for him and that’s exactly what he did.

Brett Talbot x Reader

Requested: Nope

(Y/N)= Your name
(Y/L/N)= Your last name


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Call out post

Apparently today is the best friend day

@acestronmer is my best friend and also a kickass cosplayer, their smile is like a sun (bright, warm and welcoming), their jokes are like an additional nugget in my McDonald’s order (always make my day no matter the circumstances) and their cosplays are like a Christmas morning (Miracles). They allow me to spam them with all of my stupid oc ideas but are still salty about fuckboi Ros. They laugh at all of my dick jokes but threat to block me every single time. I cherish you like the ecosystem cherishes bees.

@hydrachea is my best bud, my salt mine, my petty discourse amigo 4life. She accepts all of my deviations and picks up accidental morning Skype calls that a normal sane person would decline. Always supplies me with top notch memes and calls out my kinks for no reason at all. Her art always has that dab of angst to it and I support her hobby like Naruto supports Sasuke. Cuz we’re tomodachis, dattebayo. Stay wealthy, my French baguette hon hon hon

wake up (tom holland x fem!reader)

A/N: this is my first time posting on tumblr so please enjoy! also, this is from Tom’s pov

my masterlist is here

warnings: reader is a morning person none

summary: in which Tom Holland is so incredibly in love

I stare at her for the longest time. Not in a creepy way, but in a captivated, awestruck way. I couldn’t help but stare, she was the most gorgeous being on the planet. With every glance towards her, I was drawn in by the way she presented herself. It was an effortless glow that first drew me to her. A glow of carefree happiness, nothing forced about it. A natural smile, a laugh that could fill a room. Everything about her was perfect in my eyes. Every single piece of her. How she didn’t put up a facade for anyone, how she was unapologetically herself. It was so beautiful.

As she slept, she still looked flawless. Her hair perfectly fitting her face, one hand under her pillow the other holding my arm. It’s adorable how she’s still holding onto me, even as she’s sleeping. The way she snuggles closer to me makes my heart melt, and I fall more in love with her every time. The soft rhythm of her breathing lulls me back into a world where only she exists. She’s my everything.

Knowing I have to ruin the vision of perfection in front of me is disappointing, but that disappointment will fade as soon as she’s awake, filling my day with her essence. I take in her sleeping figure one last time before I decide I have to wake her for the day.

I shake her shoulder lightly and whisper, “Wake up, darling.” Almost immediately, she responds to the sound of my voice and her eyes flutter open. She smiles at me and kisses me. We’ve done this a thousand times, but each time is like the first. She tells me she’s going to get up, and rises from the bed, heading to the bathroom. I watch as she walks away, mesmerized by her movements. Even half asleep, she walks with such effortless grace, it’s captivating.

After she gets out of the bathroom, she heads to the kitchen to start breakfast. I lay in bed a bit longer, hoping I never have to wake up from this dream I’m living with her.

Thank you.

I want to say one big THANK YOU to every single person in the Inazuma Eleven fandom. Honestly, I’ve been here for almost two years (yeah, I joined a bit too late…) and I thought I was alone, but I WASN’T.
Every day I’m checking the tag at least 10 times to see if there’s something new and then there is it : people posting headcanons, artists drawing amazing fanarts or doing amvs, writers with their incredible fics and of course the “shit posts” who are making me laugh with tears in my eyes!
I’m scrolling down and I’m finding more and more people in this fandom. And it’s making me so happy to know there’s still someone out there who likes Inazuma. Then it’s like we’re saying “hello” by following each other and with every single post we reblog or like our friendship is getting stronger. 
Yeah, I’ve only talk to a few of you, guys, but I feel like ALL OF US are brothers and sisters and we’re one amazing and big family sharing the same dream (I’m sorry, I had to) this love to something beautiful.
I love this fandom. Every part of it. We might be a little but we’re UNITED! And that’s what matters!
Thank you guys for being born.
Thank you for being alive.
Thank you for being here, supporting each other.
Thank you for choosing Inazuma Eleven as one of your fandoms.
I love you all.

Nice to meet you. Taken. (2)

Hector Bellerin Imagine: Part 1

Originally posted by shkodranmustafi

As weeks passed me and Sav’s friends came closer. Especially with Alex. That guy is so funny and he doesn’t even try. Of course he is always bullying me just like Sav does and maybe worse but it’s not like I don’t bully him either. What I like the most is that he is being so over protective around me because he claims that even if I turned 18, I’m still underage and not an adult. As for talking about me turning 18. My birthday has been the best and the worse day of my life at the same time.

I wasn’t planning to do anything special other than going out to a club or something but Alex insisted that we had to have dinner first all together so we decided I would cook for them but as my place is far from London, we would do it at Alex’s place. No need to mention the fights me and Alex had while cooking.

As I barely had any close friends in England, other than the boys and a few girls from university, Alex had the incredible idea to ask the non-single boys to bring their girlfriends too so we wouldn’t be just four girls with that many guys at the club. And you know what that means. Hector had to invite his girlfriend Berta or whatever her name she said it was the other day when hector and her picked me up from the train station to drive me to alex’s place. That was one of the worst car-rides I’ve ever had. Hector being all flirty with her and me sitting at the back of the car still trying to figure out what “I would be stupid if I kissed you right now but I would also be stupid if I don’t” meant when he said it two days ago. Or maybe what he meant with all those ‘text me when you are safe and home’, ‘don’t drink too much tonight’, ‘don’t be too late back home’ texts he would constantly sent throughout the previous weeks. Or maybe when he drove all the way from London to my place just to spend the evening with me without even giving me a warning.

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Harry Styles - 2884 words (SMUT)


“They’re finally risen from the dead!” Drew jokes as I push through the door of Harry’s basement door, already rolling my eyes before I even can close the glass door behind me, wind gushing from behind me. I grunt as I push past Sheryl, the only other girl in our small, secluded friend group who is shrugging her coat and scarf from her body. “I’ve missed you too, fuckface.” I chuckle as I ruffle my hands through Drew’s long blonde locks, a shriek emanating from his lips as he pushes my hands roughly away from his face.

“Where’s Oscar? I thought Y/n was the last one to finish her finals from the lot of us.”  Sheryl states as she lets her small frame fall down next to Drew, my own legs carrying me over to the love seat near the end of the room. I scrunch up my face, supported by a smile when Harry passes me and hands me a beer, my fingers curling around the brown bottle as I raise it in a silent form of gratitude. “Coming later, he was busy with his girlfriend.”

“At least one of the lot is getting lucky sometime soon, can’t say that about the rest of you.” Harry jokes as he sits down to my left. I smirk and breathe through my nose, bringing the bottle to my lips as I take a small sip. “You’re very confident about your own performances in bed, Harry.” Sheryl counteracts, a snort leaving Drew’s lips before he slaps his knee and doubles over in laughter. Harry’s cheeks are tinted pink and I lift my legs and tuck them underneath my bum, holding them in place with one hand resting on my shin.

I have never heard a woman complain Drew. Can you say the same?” Harry strikes, his signature smirk you’d see all over the magazines plastered onto his features, Sheryl and I hollering as we see Drew’s eyes widen. “You fuckin’ prick, that was a onetime thing.” He accusingly points his nearly empty bottle at the only other male in the room, the glass making an almost shattering sound as it hits the expensive, mahogany coffee table that Harry had bought after Oscar was convinced he could dance single ladies by Beyoncé on Harry’s coffee table, only to fall through it and breaking his leg in the process. It was a good laugh afterwards and something we’d bring up every time Beyoncé came on the radio.

“One time too many, Drew.” I state, choosing Harry’s side on this one and he holds out his fist for me to fist bump him. Our conversation is momentarily stilled when the door reopens and in comes Oscar, his nose red from the cold outside as he rubs his hands together to gain a little warmth. “Lovely to see you, how did it go?” Oscar greets me and I shake my head, letting him know that it was so and so. “With you?”

“Eh, we’ll see. Not ready to go work anyway.” Oscar shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly and a dry chuckle leaves my lips and I salute him, agreeing with his statement. “What were we talking about?” He asks as he drops to Harry’s left, an unopened bottle of beer already held between his red hands.
“Our pathetic sex lives. Well, the three of us, not you two.” Sheryl answers but at the end of the sentence points her manicured nail towards Oscar and Harry, Oscar immediately grinning but Harry keeping his face blank.

“It’s been quite a while though.” Harry shrugs his shoulders, leaning back against his sofa as he spreads his legs, completely relaxing as he lets his eyes drift closed and reopens them slowly.
“How is that possible? I’m pretty sure every woman throws herself at your feet, Casanova.” I giggle, shifting my weight so I’m more leaning towards Harry. In the past years, since the band had become even more famous, he had grown up to be a successful, dapper man every girl swooned over.

I wasn’t blind to his characteristics either, the way he lazily carried his large body around, that stupid grin of his, and the dimples, oh those fucking dimples accompanied by that smile.

“It isn’t as tempting as it sounds though. Are you even getting any action? Accusing me of whoring around.” Harry smirks, a grin breaking through his façade as he crosses his arms over one another and keeps his eyes focused on me. I can feel my cheeks heat up as the other two boys and Sheryl stare at me in wonder, something I never really opened up about was my pathetic, nonexistent sex life.

I shrug my shoulders, trying to come off as non-caring as I mutter underneath my breath, hoping he’d let it slide just this once. “How long has it been?” Harry leans closer towards me to hear the words that leave my lips better, the bright red color on my cheeks even etching itself deeper and becoming more intense with every passing second.
“Almost a year.” I mutter under my breath and Harry widens his eyes but doesn’t say anything else, Sheryl deciding to come to my aid instantly as she speaks up.

“It has been almost six months, and he was bad. I’m not saying regular I didn’t like it, like it gave me nightmares after bad. That bad.” She chuckles and I smile at her in a grateful manner, slowly closing my eyes and reopening my eyes as I suck my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I’ll have to disappoint you ladies, only a week ago.” Drew proudly states and Sheryl slaps his across the back, a hiss leaving his lips at the impact. Harry decides to share the exact time of the matter as well and grumbles a “Month” underneath his breath before he chugs the rest of his bottle down.

“It’s been lovely hanging out with you again, but I’m knackered and I’m going off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” Oscar pushes himself up on his feet and dusts his jeans off, everyone muttering their goodbye’s, okay’s or simply nodding their head as we see him depart with a swift push through the door and into the cold. “He’s right though, I have work in the morning, I should head off too.” Drew sighs, rubbing his face tiredly as a harsh, loud groan leaves his lips. “Do you need a ride home?” He turns to Sheryl, who is almost asleep on the soft, plush sofa and nods her head tiredly.

“Can you? I’m not in the mood for a walk.” Sheryl pushes herself lazily into a sitting position, grasping the blanket closer to her body as her eyes momentarily drift closed again. “Let’s go before you fall asleep on my ass and I can carry you again like last time.” Drew chuckles as he pushes Sheryl up onto her feet, giving her another short push and guiding her towards her coat. “You good?” He turns to me and I give him a thumbs up. I loved walking home in the dark, the only thing lighting up my way being the street lights and leaving me alone with my thoughts and complete silence. Harry only lived two streets from me so it wasn’t that far anyway.

“Good. I’ll spring by when I’m off work. Later kids.” Drew salutes both of us and pushes Sheryl into the cold who immediately protests as she tries to push back inside. Both Harry and I let laughter slip past our lips as we watch the both of them interact with one another before they disappear from our sight completely.

“I missed hanging out with you all.” Harry sighs out as he hands me another full bottle, a muttering of thanks leaving my lips before I take a sip already. I sigh out, savoring the taste of the clean breath entering my lungs and I let my eyes close briefly as I exhale. “I’m glad you’re on a break, Harry. It isn’t the same without you.” I pat his leg which is closest to me, letting him know physically that I really appreciate him being back and spending time with his friends.

‘”I have to ask you though..” Harry starts but trails off immediately, biting his bottom lip as his green eyes catch mine, the dim lighting making them shine even brighter than they’d normally do. “Hm?”
“Don’t you get like, less picky or desperate after a year? I mean it has only been a month and I feel like I might combust.” Harry chuckles dryly, scratching his neck awkwardly as his gaze averts from mine, anywhere in the room except for on me.

An unattractive snort pushes itself past my lips and my eyes widen immediately as my hands flies over my mouth to cover the horrible sound, Harry’s eyes darting towards me again as he grants me with a cute, dimpled smile. “I get very desperate, but then I help myself out and I’m good for another week. I don’t want to crawl onto the scum of the earth, which I’d settle for if I actually fucked someone at that point.” I laugh, the blush permanently etched on my cheeks as it is now my turn to avoid Harry’s wandering gaze.

“And what would you consider ‘scum of the earth’?” Harry makes air quotations around my words, setting his bottle down as he intertwines his ringed fingers in front of him, his elbows leaning on his knees. I bite my lip before I let my tongue dart out to wet the already red flesh, thinking of a good example, one at once popping into mind. “Like Thomas.”
Harry’s face scrunches up in disgust as his mouth falls open, “You didn’t fuck him right?!”

“I said it was an example jeez Harry I would never.” I let my eyes widen but keep a stupid grin on my face, I’m so, so tired but this conversation is quite interesting. Harry and I would almost always have the most weird conversations in the A.M. “And to be honest, what I would consider fuckable would never even do me.” I shrug my shoulders, the last sip of my last drink sliding down my throat before I set the bottle down with a loud clank.

“Can I be brutally honest with you?” Harry asks and I nod my head, slightly confused and maybe a bit scared of what he might say right now. “I’d do you.”
I think the grin I grant him with says enough because within a few seconds, Harry’s standing to his feet and leaning over me, pressing his lips feverishly and roughly to mine.

I let my feet fall back to the floor, opening my legs so one of Harry’s pointy knees can rest of the love seat as one of his hands cup my face. We both realize pretty quickly that this isn’t the ideal situation and I push his chest, pushing him upright as I stand to my feet as well. I press my lips to his collarbones, putting pressure onto the tan skin causing Harry to tumble backwards and land in the same spot he had occupied all evening. I straddle his waist, his hands cupping my bum in an instant and our lips finding another again.

“You sure, yeah?” Harry questions against my lips and I don’t respond verbally, only pressing my lips harder to his as I let my fingers waver into his hair. His lips trail towards my jaw, his teeth sinking into the soft skin of my neck as I moan and swiftly unbutton his button up, pushing the soft fabric past his shoulders. I savor the tattooed skin, my hands trailing over the skin bringing goosebumps in their wake.

Harry is quick to discard me of my sweater and tank top, my fingers feverishly fumbling with the button of his jeans. I push myself up onto my feet, immediately sinking to my knees to pull his jeans down towards his ankles. I lick my lips as I see his cock straining against his black boxers, raising back on my feet to let Harry rip my jeans from my own body. He kisses the skin above my waistline as he slowly drags the fabric over my legs, pulling my knickers along with it in one swift, calculated movement.

As I crawl back onto Harry’s lap, now almost completely bare, him pulling his boxers down enough to expose his pre-cum leaking cock to me. I think we’re both desperate for a little release so I position himself underneath me and let myself sink down onto him, groaning in bliss when I feel myself being stretched to my maximum again in so long.

Harry’s hands reach behind me to rid me of my bra and as soon as the article of clothing goes soaring through the sky, his arms wind around me and he pushes our naked torso’s together, thrusting his hips upwards as I circle my hips in eight figure motions. My fingernails are digging into his shoulders, my lips near his ear, kissing the lobe and simultaneously panting into the shell of his ear, muttering how good it feels along with a sputtering of his name every so often.

Harry lets his head fall back, a particular loud groan leaving his lips as I let my teeth graze over his Adam’s apple. My movements are becoming faster, more irregular and needy as I push myself closer to my own edge. “This feels so fuckin’ good.” He mutters, his fingers squeezing into the skin near my hips as he guides me to his pace to reach his own release. I mutter back to him, reassuring him how good it feels as I feel my walls contracting around him, the tingles becoming more and more apparent as I feel my orgasm coming incredibly close. “Harry, I –“

“I know.” He sighs out before he pulls my body closer to his, his arms keeping me in check as he fastens his pace, thrusting rougher and shorter into me and I shriek out against his hair, swallowing over and over again and combining my panting with my loud moaning. Right now I’m so glad Harry has a flat to himself. “Come on Y/n, let go.” He groans again as he lets his teeth sink into my collarbone and a few sharp thrusts is all I need to reach my high, my whole body buzzing as I clamp onto Harry for dear life, my moans become more high pitched and out of breath as I reach down from my own high and feel Harry pound into me at a harsh, rough rate to chase his own orgasm, only tingling my sensitive nerves even more.

Harry comes undone with a loud huff, his body jerking before stilling completely and he pants and moans into my neck, his arms squeezing my even closer to his sweating but also shivering frame. I am still breathing heavily, my breath heating the skin of his neck as I let my head rest on his shoulder. Harry’s fingertips are brushing softly and soothingly over my spine, calming me and almost lulling me to sleep.

“You know, if you keep doing that I’ll fall asleep on you.” I sigh out, my left arm raising to loop around his neck and cling to him even more, still in the same position as we were in a few minutes ago. Harry breathily laughs against my shoulder, his breath sending goosebumps over my back and I squeeze him closer in response. “I know love.” I let my eyes drift closed, I have always loved to hear Harry speak with his thick, British accent and when we were younger he’d always lull me to sleep over the phone when I was stressed, it still, after all these years, had the same effect on me.

“I’ll be a potato sack you won’t get rid of until the morning.” I yawn, lifting my hips and letting Harry softly glide out of me, a breath leaving my lips at the loss of him. “I don’t mind, stay until the morning.”
I reopen my eyes, staring at the tan skin of his neck as I try to think of an appropriate response. When I don’t answer after a few minutes, Harry scrapes his throat again, my eyes falling closed again as sleep begins to overtake me. “Will you?”

“Hm?” I mutter, almost unaware of our position and our nakedness through the body heat I can extract from Harry’s frame. His fingertips are still lightly brushing over my spine and his heartbeat has slowed down again to a calming, steady beat, only encouraging sleep to take over even more.

“Stay until the morning.” He softly speaks again, almost unaware of the giddiness that soars through me at the question. I nod my head against his neck and Harry breathes out a breath he seemed to be holding in as some sort of relief before his hands stop their motions and grasp me by the bum.
“Hold on tight then.” He chuckles against my naked skin before he lifts me up in his arms and carries me off towards his bedroom, now finally realizing why he liked the mornings so much.

I hope you like, Enjoy,
Lots of love,
L. xox

Alec Martinez - Pregnant

Originally posted by fallenforfleury

A/N:Another request of course, I want to get this one up and at least one more, but I’ll probably get to more than that. Hopefully, at least. I also am not sure how this one turned out, it didn’t seem to flow as well. Hopefully you enjoy!

“ Ooooh! Can you write something cute with alec martinez like you’re pregnant or something and he’s being all overprotective and cute? “

Here you go, anon!

Warning: None

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