*applause*

one part of me wants to just straddle his waist & make out with him and just have sex with him & the other part of me just wants to cuddle next to him and fall asleep 😭😍

sayyoulovemeback:

Due to the high amount of unused URLs on Tumblr, whoever does not reblog this by June 38th, 2910 will be sent into the Hunger Games, and be forced to fight against eachother until the last URL wins.

reblogging because of the source omg

i was like “oh hahahaha why would anyone reblog this? ” THEN I LOOKED AT THE SOURCE 

REBLOGGING BECAUSE OF THE SOURCE XD;;

SORRY GUYS NOT TAKING ANY CHANCES!

reblogging because of the source ok

THE SOURCEEEEE !!!!!!!!! 

Off your hat to Tumblr staff. You’re awesome, end of the story

Why the hell not?

requested by anonymous

backstories to random gifs are my favorite thing and they need to continue

REBLOG THIS IF YOU ARE ENDING 2014 SINGLE

Imagine

You’ve been friends with Oli since 1st grade. Your families were friends, but ever since Oliver went missing, and died, your alliances broke. Now he’s back, and acting weird. You expected him to act weird, but not this weird. Over 20% of his body was covered in scars, and you don’t know why. Vigilante crimes were spreading, and you suspected something. At a party, you go up to the roof for air, and you hear screaming below, and gunshots. You close your eyes, hiding behind the wall, as you hear the metal door slide open and you clanp your mouth shut, your hand pressing against your lips. “Y/n?” A dark, gruff voice fills the air, and you stay put. “y/n I know you’re up here. I’m not going to hurt you.” You slowly stand up, and he sees you. Putting down the bow, and stepping away from it. You’re voice is shaky. “Who are you?” “Just… Hear me out.” “WHO ARE YOU” “You know. You know who I am.” The man then lifts his hands to his green hood, and your eyes widen. Oliver then stands before you, his eyes rimmed with red. You breath out, stepping back, crying. “Y/n… Let me explain.” “Did I mean anything to you? Oliver… Anything.” He doesn’t answer, “why are you doing this?” “Because you always have. You always have, y/n.” “You didn’t answer my question.” You shake your head. “I did.” He steps towards you. “I do it for you, y/n… To keep you safe. I do it to keep you safe.” “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” “It means I love you!” He steps towards you, his hands coming to your waist for the first time in 5 years, and his lips coming to yours for the first time since 2nd grade when you and your friends were playing a stupid game of truth or dare. His lips are warm, and the tears from your cheeks are salty against your tongue, and you put your hand to his jaw, closing your eyes. Oliver’s tumb sweeps the tear drops off your rosy cheeks, and the wind blows your hair back slightly, your arms wrapping around his neck.

Imagine

You’ve been dating Barry Allen for 1 year now, and you spend half your day with him at least every day, if not more. Sitting in his office, you watched him work, looking at you from the corner of his eyes occasionally, a smile playing at his lips everytime. You cross your legs up under you, and you fold your arms. “Barry?” He turns towards you. “Hm?” Your face heats up, “I think we should have sex.” His eyes widen, and he laughs, looking down. You slide off the chair, and grab his hands. “Wait- really?” His boice is cationed, and he raises his eyebrows. “Why not? We’ve been friends for 3 years, best friends, and dating seriously for 1 year. I think I’m ready.” “Well… Uhm- have you… Ever… Before?” “No… Suprisingly. I’ve been waiting. For the right one.” He smiles, and kisses you, his hand running down your back, slowly. You savor the kiss, knotting your hands into his brown hair, as he carries you to the couch. “You’re sure, right?” He breaths out, on top of you. Your breath is fast, and you nod, pulling off his swater, and unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers shaking violently. His hands running up your hips, under your shirt. You kick off your shoes, and soon his hands are sliding under your skirt. You lean your head back, closing your eyes. Barry then stops. “Are you absolutely sure?” “Yes… Just- just please don’t stop.” You plead, your hands gripping his arms. Sweats runs down your bodies as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as his lips trail down your hot skin. ////// Laying your head on his chest, your fingers laced with his, his lips press against the top of your head. A blanket pulled over the top of you two, your pegs tangled with his. The night New York sky lit with the building’s lights, softly illuminating the space.

Imagine: Barry Allen

Recently turning into the flash, Barry has been trying to keep you safe, but getting caught in a cross fire, you’re killed. Barry gets there too late, and finds you, laying on the ground, on a pile of broken glass- fallen from the roof- pushed. You had dated Barry for 3, almost 4 years on Christmas eve, and he recently proposed, last week. In his lab, the phone rings, and Barry picks it up. Your voice filling his ears like bittersweet music. “Im sorry Barry. You need to let me go.” “I messed up- i failed, y/n. Please come back.” He cries. “You know I can’t do that…” Tears prick your eyes. “Come back to me…” “I love you, Barry.” And you hang up, Barry’s head falling into his hands. “Come back… Come back… Come back…” His tears drip down his chin, as he sobs into his arms. Knowing you were gone.

Imagine laying in bed with Barry, waking up, and seeing Barry looking at you. You had told him about your depression, and attempt at suicide when you were 13. Barry’s hand comes to your cheek, and caresses it. “You’re not alone” “You’re not mad?” Last night Barry had broken down into tears, not talking to you for the rest of the tense night. “How could I be mad?” “You seemed upset.” “I am… Still… Because you’re beautiful. And it hurts me more than it hurts you to see you like this. To see you in pain.”

I DONT CARE WHAT KIND OF BLOG YOU HAVE

EVERYONE NEEDS A DANCING FESTIVE CARLTON 

IT BEGINS

IT HAS STARTED

Happy 24th Birthday kickthepj!

happy birthday kickthepj !! I know that it was yesterday but I was writing all day and playing skyrim soooo… ehe sorry Peej. Happy belated birthday tho!!

Reblog if you want your followers to tell you which fictional character you remind them of.

Imagine

You’ve been dating Barry Allen for 1 year now, and you spend half your day with him at least every day, if not more. Sitting in his office, you watched him work, looking at you from the corner of his eyes occasionally, a smile playing at his lips everytime. You cross your legs up under you, and you fold your arms. “Barry?” He turns towards you. “Hm?” Your face heats up, “I think we should have sex.” His eyes widen, and he laughs, looking down. You slide off the chair, and grab his hands. “Wait- really?” His boice is cationed, and he raises his eyebrows. “Why not? We’ve been friends for 3 years, best friends, and dating seriously for 1 year. I think I’m ready.” “Well… Uhm- have you… Ever… Before?” “No… Suprisingly. I’ve been waiting. For the right one.” He smiles, and kisses you, his hand running down your back, slowly. You savor the kiss, knotting your hands into his brown hair, as he carries you to the couch. “You’re sure, right?” He breaths out, on top of you. Your breath is fast, and you nod, pulling off his swater, and unbuttoning his shirt, your fingers shaking violently. His hands running up your hips, under your shirt. You kick off your shoes, and soon his hands are sliding under your skirt. You lean your head back, closing your eyes. Barry then stops. “Are you absolutely sure?” “Yes… Just- just please don’t stop.” You plead, your hands gripping his arms. Sweats runs down your bodies as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as his lips trail down your hot skin. ////// Laying your head on his chest, your fingers laced with his, his lips press against the top of your head. A blanket pulled over the top of you two, your pegs tangled with his. The night New York sky lit with the building’s lights, softly illuminating the space.

Imagine laying in bed with Barry, waking up, and seeing Barry looking at you. You had told him about your depression, and attempt at suicide when you were 13. Barry’s hand comes to your cheek, and caresses it. “You’re not alone” “You’re not mad?” Last night Barry had broken down into tears, not talking to you for the rest of the tense night. “How could I be mad?” “You seemed upset.” “I am… Still… Because you’re beautiful. And it hurts me more than it hurts you to see you like this. To see you in pain.”

Reblog this if you're older than Google.

keepcalmandgosurfing:

Holy mother of god

Imagine: Barry Allen

Recently turning into the flash, Barry has been trying to keep you safe, but getting caught in a cross fire, you’re killed. Barry gets there too late, and finds you, laying on the ground, on a pile of broken glass- fallen from the roof- pushed. You had dated Barry for 3, almost 4 years on Christmas eve, and he recently proposed, last week. In his lab, the phone rings, and Barry picks it up. Your voice filling his ears like bittersweet music. “Im sorry Barry. You need to let me go.” “I messed up- i failed, y/n. Please come back.” He cries. “You know I can’t do that…” Tears prick your eyes. “Come back to me…” “I love you, Barry.” And you hang up, Barry’s head falling into his hands. “Come back… Come back… Come back…” His tears drip down his chin, as he sobs into his arms. Knowing you were gone.

please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

Barry Allen || Arrow || Requested