• 94.03.28

to my favorite person on the planet,
I would like to wish you a happy birthday.

you always tell us to take care of our bodies and to remain healthy, but lately, you’ve been neglecting yours.
I hope that you are always healthy and safe.
know that we, who are yours will always be there to catch and support you whenever you need it.

I will forever be thankful for the amount of light that you have bought to my life.

I love you so much.

I hope you have the happiest of birthdays, jackson, because you deserve it.

We Need To Talk.

I know this is gonna be way different from what I usually post, but hear me out.

If you don’t know me, hi. You can call me Tyler or Ty. I’m mostly a Tythan blog with some things not relating to Tythan here and there. I’ve wanted to rant about this for awhile, but I never saw a reason to, so now is the perfect time.

Lately, we’ve been able to see that both Ethan and Tyler are uncomfortable with all the NSFW Tythan stuff that they see. Ethan stated that he’s fine with fan fiction and fan art, but what he isn’t okay with is smutty fan fiction and drawings of him and Tyler having sex.

I don’t care who you are, but do me a favor and don’t post NSFW where the boys can see it. We don’t want to take this ship too far and have it end up like Septiplier. All of us are trying to have fun here. If the ship turns out to be real, awesome. If not, they still have an amazing friendship that I don’t want anyone to ruin. Please do your best to keep shipping posts out of the main tags.

Now, I’m not saying that you should stop shipping them. They still stand as my OTP. I’m just saying that you should be careful as to what you post about them.

Thank you for your time and have a nice day.

Another Scenario bc I have no self control

Character A and Character B are close friends who live in the same apartment complex. Character A is absolutely exhausted and getting sick, but fully intends to go about business as usual. Character B turns off A’s alarm clock and calls in sick to work for them while they’re asleep. When A wakes up way late the next day, panicking, B soothes them and says it’s all taken care of. A gets mad, saying that B had no right to do that, and the argument gets so heated that B leaves, thinking A is clearly fine if they’re capable of being such an asshole. B gets a call from A’s boss the next morning–being A’s emergency contact and all–and is told that A didn’t call out but didn’t show up. B rushes to A’s apartment and finds them in really bad shape and helps them recover even though they’re a dumb stubborn ass.


Happy 15 Million, Jack! I wish I could have made a better edit, this one isn’t how I’d really like it but OH WELL. It’s the thought that counts, right? I’m also late, because I’m always late for these things. By the time I get something out no one cares anymore. Still, ima ramble anyway.

I haven’t been here the longest. I came around at 8 million subs, my first video being your 8 million subscriber video. Still, even though I’m not one of those people who’s been here since 3 subs, I still care. Sometimes I think I care too much. Regardless, this community is up there with my family, friends and cat for things near and dear to my heart. It’s been an inspiration, something to go to, as a cure for anything from boredom to a shit day. I’m not old. Or, at least, not as old as a lot of people on here. I discovered YouTube at 10 years old. I grew up on YouTube and even all these years later it still hasn’t disappointed me. YOU haven’t disappointed me. Not once. Every single goddamn day you’ve been there, which is a lot more reliable than a lot of things in our messed up world. There’s not a thing on this earth I could do to properly thank you for that, so I’m just going to keep doing what I’ve always done. Watch, laugh, and put my edits out there into cyber space to hopefully make other people smile too.
Thank you.

lately i’ve been replacing my “i’m sorry”s with “thank you”s, like instead of “sorry i’m late” i’ll say “thanks for waiting for me”, or instead of “sorry for being such a mess” i’ll say “thank you for loving me and caring about me unconditionally” and it’s not only shifted the way i think and feel about myself but also improved my relationships with others who now get to receive my gratitude instead of my negativity


Until we meet again.

every time the holidays roll around i like to think about how they probably miss each other like hell when they leave to visit their families, even though they literally spend every waking moment together. it’s not just christmas, either – it’s like, every second they spend away from each other (and i’m totally not saying they’re not able to function when separated) they somehow are still connected. i’ll bet you if they could use mind telepathy, they would just have hour-long arguments about eggnog and where snakes fart out of.

(Please don’t repost/delete the caption thanks) 

love is in the air

So I ask her about love and she tells me about the bits of us that we give away. You’ll never get them back. When you’re this empty you’ll try anything to cover up the void. So I ask her about her favorite color and if it has anything to do with passion. We feel more pain than we’d care to mention– so we draw, paint and write just to have a little more self-expression. So I ask her if she hands away so much of herself, who is she by the time it’s all over? You don’t really know someone until they walk away. You don’t really love someone until it’s too late. You don’t know a damn thing until it’s all said and done. So I ask about her smile. Are you happy when we’re talking? Do you enjoy this as much as I do? So I ask if she does late afternoon runs to run from herself or to find something. Do you chase ghosts too? Inside those halls, you’re trapped in photographs. Inside that soul, you’ve burnt the whole house down. Inside that heart, you’re still looking for love. So I ask about us and if she sees hope. She points to the smile that they used to love. She points to the scars and sketches a constellation of promises on my skin. So I ask if she’s a sucker for love poems and honesty. So I ask if she’s ever been hurt before. What do you do when it’s just you? Does the anxiety rip you inside out? You can write until you’re all out of words. You can love until your heart is a grain of sand. You can be angry until your fist bruises the night. So I ask her about love and if it’s ever worth it. Do you really see us together? Isn’t it weird? Two strangers. Before meeting– you didn’t exist to one another. Now? You’re routine. Now? You choose to stay. I can ask if she really means it all. I can ask if she believes me. I’m always in my head picking myself apart. I’m always in my heart sorting out feelings. The complexity of something as simple as saying I love you to someone bothers everyone who stays up really fucking late. We all have a past that won’t sleep. We all have a present worth living. The future? I don’t know if it holds us, but I’m here until the last page.

Wake Up, Sunshine

Not entirely sure as to what this is but I was sleepy so I just did this. I should probably make a masterpost hm? oops, I’ll do it later. Thanks for reading pals!
“Wake Up, Sunshine”

(or the one where Harry’s girl hates being woken up early and Harry’s just so in love)

Harry absolutely loves mornings.

Especially those warm morning where he doesn’t get woken up by the blaring alarm by his ear. He loves the mornings where a familiar warm body is pressed into his chest, light snores in his ear, legs sprawled on his own causing blissful shudders to shake his shoulders. He loves the hands sleepily wandering his torso, he even loves the long hair in his mouth from the girl who’s head is tucked into his neck.

Harry doesn’t know what to expect every night when they fall asleep. He thinks that’s the best part of falling in love with her. Usually, his girl and him end up in the same position at night after a couple minutes of exchanging words about their day. She rests her head on his shoulder with an arm draped over his torso, leg latched to his hip. It takes her a while to fall asleep but with one of Harry’s hands on her lower back, rubbing circles into her hot skin (that slowly makes its way down to her bum), she’s gone to dreamland in before Harry.

However, when they wake up, it’s a different story. He doesn’t know whether his beautiful girl will be next him, on top of him, or laying face first on the floor because of how much she tosses around in her sleep. He’s often forced awake in the middle of the night due to the small girl smacking her arm across his face or kneeing him where he shouldn’t be kneed while desperately searching for the right position. Usually, he finds it amusing with the exception of the day he found her bum pressed directly to his crotch.

Today, Harry opens his eyes to find a tuft of hair in his face, mouth, nose, basically everywhere. Her head is resting on Harry’s collarbone, hand fisting the material of his thin shirt, breathing heavily as if her nose is blocked. Her mouth is slightly open causing warm air to hit Harry’s goosebumps on his skin.

Now, Harry has learned his lesson from the numerous times he has found himself in this unfortunate situation. He’s far too smart to push her away all together (mainly because of the terrible mood she’s in when she’s awoken too early) and takes a couple seconds to remove the hair from his mouth. With a gentle hand under her chin, he slowly maneuvers her head back onto her own pillow.

This movement causes the girl to whine from the back of her throat, eyebrows scrunching up more than they already do when she sleeps. Her head lifts up from the pillow, hair sticking to the fabric as her sleepy eyes blink open. Her eyes search for Harry’s and when she finds his wide orbs, her expression grows annoyed.

Harry should be swearing under his breath, devising ways to calm her down before she explodes on him. He can probably sing her back to sleep or apologize profusely to her, however the sight in front of him is too precious of him to forget. He decides it’s okay to let her be cranky this morning.

Her drowsy eyes are half open, cheeks puffed out, and a mark running down her face from the little bulging patterns on Harry’s shirt. Her mouth is fully pouted, with her bottom lip jutting outwards significantly, resembling a young school girl who simply does not want to go to school. All in all, she looks irritated at Harry for waking her up and by the way her frown only deepens, the boy knows he’s in for an earful.

“Good morning, petal,” he begins, a fond smile growing on his lips when his pretty girl rubs her eye with a sweater paw. She yawns and stretches her limbs before returning her exasperate gaze on her smitten boyfriend.

The first words she utters are: “Why am I awake?”

Harry breathlessly laughs and moves his body closer to hers, taking her face in his hands. He gently caresses her cheeks with the pads of his thumb and stares into her sleepy eyes, the grin on his lips only deepening his dimples. He places his own head against her neck, brushing his lips against her skin, mumbling, “I might have woken you up.”

A few seconds go by of Harry simply dotting random kisses to his beautiful girl’s skin and she tosses her head back, demanding more from his mouth. “I wanted to sleep in today,” she murmurs.

Harry steals a glance at the clock. “It’s already 11:20, my love.”

“Didn’t wanna be awake in the morning,” she insists with a slight whine to her voice, suddenly fed up with his attention. “It’s Sunday.”

She places her open palms on his chest and shoves him away. Before Harry can grab her hands and pin them to the mattress, like he always does whenever she pushes him away, she turns her back to him and places the blanket over her head.

“Harsh,” Harry notes when the girl shuffles away from his warmth.

“Shouldn’t have woken me up,” she shoots back in a muffled voice and Harry is quick to catch her teasing tone.

Harry’s not having it today. He doesn’t have the studio booked today and he doesn’t have anymore secret photo shoots to attend behind her back. It’s the first pleasant morning in a couple weeks so is it really a crime to want a cuddle from his girl?

So Harry places one leg over hers and forces an arm under her waist, connecting his other hand across her stomach. His smart little girl comprehends what he’s about to do her hands immediately fly to his arms, trying to pry them apart. Harry—!“

He swiftly tugs her entire body into his chest, tightening his grasp around her, tangling his legs further into hers. There’s no escape when she’s in this position and they both are aware of it.

"Not in the mood for this,” she grumbles.

Harry comes to the realization that he simply does not like her lips in a hard line so he begins to break her down. He wets his lips and presses them to the corner of her mouth, pecking the skin repeatedly. “I’m sorry pet. Didn’t mean to wake you up but now you can cuddle with me more.”

Harry feels her jaw clench which causes a smirk to grow on his lips because he knows she’s trying to cover a smile. Her witty reply is, “When I agreed to date you, you didn’t say you were such a cuddle monster.”

Harry hums from the back of his throat, delighted that the dark cloud has lifted. “I wouldn’t say monster, pet. That makes me sound terrible.”

She doesn’t reply after that and Harry knows she hasn’t fallen back asleep. Instead of releasing her, he begins to press sponges kisses to her jaw and neck. The girl engulfed in his limbs lets out a low sigh and relaxes further into his arms when he drags his lips to the sweet spot right below her ear lobe. Harry’s heart soars.

A couple seconds go of Harry simply taking advantage of his beautiful girl’s vulnerable state by pressing his lips to every thrilling spot her knows: her temples, the sides of her nose, the hollows of her neck etc…

Finally, the girl huffs and turns around to face him. She loops her arm around his neck and presses her entire body into his chest. Harry feels her breath on his neck again when he says, “Not fair, Harry.”

“What’s not fair, my love?” Harry ignores the grammatical error and speaks in a small voice.

“You’re doing all this sweet stuff to make my mood lighter,” she says.

Harry places his massive hand on her back and rubs slowly causing a moan of approval to fall from her lips. Her hand tightens on his chest as she flutters her eyes open. She glances up at Harry and smiles lazily. “It’s working.”

Harry hums and bends down, pressing his lips sweetly to hers. He continues rubbing her back, gingerly drawing her in. It’s a small kiss because who actually has the strength to French kiss in the morning. That’s disgusting anyways, he thinks. As he feels his girlfriend kiss him back, he smirks and pulls away without a word. His eyes aren’t open but he can practically hear her pout.

“Wasn’t done kissing you.”

Harry knows her eyes are wide and her lower lip bitten. He knows her cheeks have flushed and her eyebrows have drooped with disappointment.

“I’ll kiss you more once we’ve both brushed our teeth,” Harry smiled.

He feels a hand on his chest and a weight as she pushes herself upwards. He opens his eyes and watches her grab a hair tie and her glasses from the side table. She forces her hair in a bun and pushes the glasses so they’re perched on the bridge of her nose. The frames are too big for her small face, however she had insisted at the optician at she wanted those and none other. Her exact words were something like “If i’m gonna be unattractive from now on, I wanna make the best out of it.”

Of course Harry punished her with kisses once they reached home.

His small girlfriend limps over to the closet, which causes Harry to frown in guilt, grabbing one of Harry’s old t-shirts.

“Ah ah, that’s not yours to wear,” Harry pipes.

She turns around and pushes her glasses up. “You woke me up early, I get to do whatever I want.”

It seems logical so Harry lets it slide and watches her trudge into the bathroom, admiring her legs and the way she walks on her heels, not letting her toes feel the cold floor. His girlfriend is honestly a 5 year old and he bloody loves it.

Harry realizes he’ll probably go through this hassle everyday he’s with her and after a couple minutes of staring longingly at the bathroom door, he comes to the conclusion that he wouldn’t want it any other way.