mrslizzyolsen
elora (taylor's version)
— 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢’𝐦 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧’
286 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
myuthing
Thingamajig314 Myu Blog
swirlngthghts
mind over matter
slimeystimboards
Charlie (He/It)
foreigndivinities
poetic ruminator
moneyheist-fam
-ˏˋ BELLA CIAO ˊˎ-
Note
hey could u write living with jess mariano headcanons pls ?
𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐎.
pairings ; jess mariano x reader
warnings ; slight mention of anxiety and insomnia.
word count ; 462
additional notes ; thank u!
➵ books. books everywhere.
➵ mid-read books laying on the coffee table, finished and annotated copies on the tv unit and filled bookcases in several rooms around the house because you both love to read.
➵ he has a small desk in the bedroom where he spends late nights pulling his hair upon when he’s writing away, you having to rub his shoulders and continuously peck his cheek to coax him to rest in bed.
➵ a bungalow. still living in stars hollow, he got used to it for you. i definitely see a cosy bungalow that jess and you decorate as your own and descend your future upon.
➵ lamps in every room which emits warm glow in the night because it’s for every night reading scenario around the house.
➵ spending most of your time cuddled on the couch, watching television or… surprisingly… reading books. whether it’s separately in comfortable company or reading to one another. you could easily get lost in the sound of his voice.
➵ cooking together >>>
➵ jess is a good cook when he puts in the effort. years working and living at luke’s, he learns over time. if neither of you are busy will spend nights cooking a nice curry or pizza together.
➵ record player atop a vinyl-filled unit where there is almost always a song playing against it lowly while you both go about your business.
➵ jess always, always, greeting you with a forehead kiss whenever you arrive home.
➵ naps together… yes please.
➵ jess takes naps, period. and if you see him napping in bed, you’re immediately growing tired at the thought of cuddling up to his warm frame. and as you slide in beside him, jess’ sleeping self pulls you in and rests his chin on top of your head with a low hum.
➵ coming back to a previous point. routine for him to read you to sleep when it’s a particularly anxious night. you’re fidgety and agitated with your insomniac self and jess’ tired eyes watch and pull you into his side before his gravely, sleepy voice reads the chapter of the book by his bedside.
➵ a dog? somewhere down the line.
➵ jess would be a dog person, not wanting to work very hard for a pet’s love. so, he’s easily confused into rescuing a big dog together.
➵ chores together; taking turns to do dishes, one night his, the following night yours. him putting on the washing, you hanging it out, both of you folding the cotton atop your bed, light-hearted smiles and endearing hip nudges.
➵ when his mind is full of anxious or overwhelming things, jess likes to take late walks through the town when it’s quiet and dark. sometimes you join him in silence, hands held, or you await with warm open arms when he returns home.
⤸
taglist form . the library . all blurbs
jess mariano; masterlist
534 notes
·
View notes
Text
interest | CL16
PAIRING: boyfriend!charles leclerc x reader
WORD COUNT: 0.3k
SYNOPSIS: what if charles was the type of boyfriend to learn more about your interests?
A/N: very short, but i'm thinking of making this sort of content a drabble series? one that discusses possible "what if" situations regarding relationships with f1 drivers?? let me know if you'd like to see more of this because i've definitely started working on ones for other drivers :))
as always, don't be a ghost reader!
what if charles was the type of boyfriend who would watch you as you did your makeup? his eyes would be wide, taking in every single step of your routine, a soft look on his face as if he couldn’t believe how you were his.
what if he pointed to your products as you put them on, and asked you “what’s this one called?” or, “can i guess what you use it for?”, his focused gaze clearly indicating how serious he is?
what if he pointed to colours along the way, wanting to help in the creative process of your eye shadow looks? “this colour is my favourite,” he’d say, pointing to the red closest to the shade of his car. you’d pretend to be surprised, “i wonder why?”
or maybe, charles was the type of boyfriend to help you pick out your outfits. what if he went through your closet, shuffling through your clothes to find an outfit that would match his? god, he would probably love it when you’d match.
would he go out and buy himself clothes in the same shades as the ones he saw in your closet? would he buy you a pair of shoes everytime he bought ones for himself?
or what if he was the kind of boyfriend to hold you close when the night fell? the one who would offer to take your makeup off for you, and help you slip out of your clothes as you drowsily tried to help him? maybe he’d hoist you up onto the counter of your bathroom, one hand under your mouth as the other guided the foaming toothpaste across your teeth.
what if charles was the type of boyfriend to show that he loves you by showing interest in the things that make you happy?
806 notes
·
View notes
Text
im fucking sobbing my heart out. seb is retiring 💔 dont hmu
5 notes
·
View notes
Photo
just the expressive and boyishly handsome jensen ackles with his golden retriever colored dmitri hair in a nice fit black tee answering questions for Men’s Health magazine ;)
607 notes
·
View notes
Text
everybody and I mean everybody, congratulated carlos today 🫶🏽
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
tap
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
summary: bucky never talked much. he fell in love anyway.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words.
And you noticed that fairly quickly. In fact, it was one of the first things you noticed about him when you first joined the team. Quiet, reserved, gentle Bucky Barnes wasn’t a man of many words.
But his eyes spoke volumes.
“You don’t talk much, do you?”
His gaze fell, “Not much to say.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
And you pushed him a lot to do so. Always asked him about the 40s and what he was like. You remembered asking if he was just as quiet then as he was now and Steve laughed from across the room saying, “You’re kidding right, Y/N? Buck was a real smooth talker.”
So, you teased him about that often. He didn’t like it, always said something about not being that guy anymore.
You reminded him that he could be any guy he wanted.
So, yeah, Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, but you two got close.
“I know you stole the remote, Buck.”
He circled around the kitchen counter, walking away from you.
“Is it because you don’t want to watch that Disney movie with me? I know you secretly like it and —“
“I don’t have the remote, Y/N.”
“Oh, yeah? Then what’s that hanging out of your pocket?”
You saw that little grin form on his face and you hurried forward and grabbed it before he could say another word.
He chased after you.
Then there were those times where he did thoughtful little things. Where he let his heart show through that thick wall of his and it made you realize just how much he spoke without speaking.
“Did you guys drink all the coffee again? Really? Does no one —“
Bucky handed you a cup.
“Two sugars, right?”
“Yeah and —“
“A dash of cream.”
That was until he added salt into your coffee one morning.
“We ran out of sugar!” he defended.
“So you added salt? Buck, that’s —“ you eyed him. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
He took a sip of his coffee.
“Oh, you’re getting brave. I can —“
You grabbed his coffee and headed straight for your room.
He chased after you again.
So, yeah you two got close.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, but you two still got close.
He never let his walls down completely though. Never enough to let you know what he was feeling anyway, if he was hurt. It didn’t bother you so much until you realized he was always hurt, always hurting and that stung a little too much.
“Buck…can you let me in? Please?”
“We can talk tomorrow, Y/N.”
You sighed, standing outside his door.
“I don’t wanna talk tomorrow. I wanna…we don’t have to talk at all, Buck. I just wanna be with you right now.”
No response.
“Please?”
You’ll want to talk anyway, you practically heard and you sighed because it was true.
You knew you’d ask him a bunch of questions and Steve already told you — he already told you that Bucky liked his space. That he got distant sometimes when the world got too much or people got too much for him. Sometimes his mind got too much and Bucky wanted a break. You slid down against his door and sat there for ten minutes hoping for a change of heart.
You weren’t leaving though.
“Hey, Buck, how about this?”
You continued when he didn’t respond. You knew he was listening.
“How about we create a system? One that doesn’t involve you talking or me asking. It can just be...our thing. It can our thing, Buck.”
Nothing.
“And we don’t have to do it all the time. Just when we need to. When I need to know things and you don’t feel like giving. Think you’ve already given too much, don’t ya think?”
Nothing again.
You sighed.
But then you heard the door open and you fell back a little. Bucky looked down at you, what system? his eyes read and you patted the ground in front of you, signaling for him to sit.
He sat.
“Okay so, two taps anywhere like this,” you pressed your fingers against the back of his hand twice. “Means you’re okay. That you’re fine. Three taps, however,” you pressed three times against his skin. “Means you’re not. That you’re not okay.”
He stared at your hands.
“And I don’t have to explain why?”
“Never, Buck. Not unless you want to.”
You tapped him four times.
“What’s that?”
“Four taps means you miss me.”
Bucky got up.
“Aw, c’mon Buck. Humor me a little!”
You didn’t miss the little grin on his face.
Somehow you thought he’d give you two taps just for that comment.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, so he liked the system.
He first used it three days after it was created.
He’d woken up and strolled in for his first cup of coffee. Wasn’t the least bit surprised when he found you already there, cup ready in hand with eggs to match because coffee isn’t breakfast, Buck. He’d usually argue about it. Coffee’s the only breakfast, he’d say, but he didn’t have that in him today.
Maybe it was because he hadn’t come out of his room in three days. Or maybe it was because you hadn’t said anything to him yet, but Bucky didn’t argue. He just found himself tapping your hand twice when he reached for the cup.
You grinned.
Bucky liked that.
And you found that was the one he used the most.
Two taps.
Two taps whenever he went off to bed. Two taps when you played that Godforsaken Disney movie for the 5th time that week. Two taps when Thor made some stupid comment about wars during dinner one night.
It was two taps.
Always two taps.
So you were more than a little surprised when your first three taps came.
It was right after a mission. A long one. One that Steve had gotten hurt on because Bucky hadn’t gotten there fast enough. It wasn’t his fault though. Wasn’t anyone’s fault because everyone was too preoccupied with the bad guys at hand to notice the knife coming for Steve’s left side. Bucky took the blame though. Beat himself up about till he got into the jet.
The words were on the tip of your tongue, are you okay? You wanted to say it. Wanted everyone to say it because how could they not notice?
You didn’t though.
Instead you sat next to him and waited for him to say something, anything. At some point, you felt yourself giving up and drifting off until you felt his hand on your thigh.
He squeezed it three times.
You rested your head on his shoulder.
Then there was that time you left for six days. Fury had you and Natasha assigned to some undercover mission in London for the next six days. It took the whole six days, while the boys jetted off to New Orleans to deal with some asshole causing a ruckus in the city.
They came back in two.
“Buck!” you shouted, waking through the compound and dropping your bag at the front door.
“Buck, I’m back! Where are —“ you grinned, finding him resting at the bar stool in the kitchen. He was reading some file and you dropped your head onto his shoulder from behind.
“Hey, Buck. Miss me?”
He stopped.
“No? Ouch, well, I missed you,” you turned your head, kissing his cheek. “Look, I even brought you back a keychain. Nothing fancy. Just has a cat waving the British flag and when I saw it, I thought of you. The cat looks grumpy.”
Bucky didn’t say anything and you removed your head from his shoulder. He must be really into the file, you thought and you didn’t want to bother him so you left the keychain on the table and turned around to head to your room.
Bucky grabbed you and tapped your waist four times.
You launched yourself at him and covered his face with a series of kisses. Everywhere. Anywhere you could reach and each one was followed by a string of I knew it, I knew it, I knew it’s.
Bucky never wanted to use the four taps again.
Except he did. All the time.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, but he thinks he was starting to fall for you.
Because he did four taps whenever you left the room for too long. And when Steve briefed them for too long that one time about some mission, Bucky found himself tapping your leg four times even though you were right there.
Right there. You were right there.
He even recalled nudging his nose against yours four times when you fell asleep on him during that damn Disney movie the previous week.
“Miss you,” he mumbled.
But it was okay because when you woke up the next morning, you nudged your nose against his cheek four times.
Bucky woke up with a bright gleam in his eyes.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Missed you, obviously.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, Buck.”
And then there came a time where Bucky decided he wanted to create a new one. A new tap.
Bucky wasn’t a man of many words, but he knows he finally found love.
“Sweetheart, damn, can you slow —“
Because you were stuffing popcorn in his mouth. You were laying in front of him, in between him to be more exact, and throwing popcorn behind like it was nothing.
Most of it didn’t even make it into his mouth.
“Shh, this is the best part.”
“You say that everytime. We’ve seen this movie a —“
“Shh, Buck!”
Bucky laughed and pulled you up so you were closer to his chest. It wasn’t anything special that made him realize it. Thinks it was the familiarly and the comfortability that made him put the pieces together, but Bucky leaned down and pressed his lips against your hair three times. Just three and that was enough for you to tear your eyes away from the screen and look up at him.
“Buck?”
He didn’t say anything.
“Did I throw too much popcorn again? You know I get excited when Lucifer gets on screen. He reminds me so much of —“
Bucky tightened his arm around you and tapped his thumb against your stomach once.
You knitted your brows.
“One? Buck, one doesn’t mean anything. We don’t have —“
“One means I love you.”
“What?”
“One tap means I love you. It means I love you, Y/N.”
It took a few seconds for your brain to register but once it did you jumped up in his lap and turned to face him. Bucky's sure the popcorn bowl had spilled all over the floor, but he didn’t care. Not when his girl looked at him like that and leaned in to kiss him like that too. So fiercely and full of love.
“Okay, okay, baby! I said one tap.”
“One tap gets you a million kisses each time.”
“Mhm. I’m okay with that.”
You giggled, I know you are, you mumbled against him and kissed him a little harder. He felt brighter, more happy and he knew he wasn’t one to say much, but his eyes always did and that was enough for you to pull back for a quick second before leaning in to give him one, long, seething kiss.
One kiss.
And at that moment, Bucky knew the kind of guy he wanted to be.
He wanted to be the kind that was loved by you.
6K notes
·
View notes
Note
Kiss prompt 47 please!❤️
I'm Calling It
Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUfem!Reader
Category: Angsty Fluff
TW: Reader is in a life-threatening situation, a building burns down (due to the arsonist unsub), Spencer worries the Reader might be dead, cursing
This was the first idea I had when I read this prompt, so I'm thrilled @mrsobrien888 gave me the chance to write it. Hope you like it! xx
When you and Spencer got married, you'd mutually struck a deal. It was inspired by a conversation with JJ and Will one evening when the four of you went on a double date.
"How do you manage it, truly?" Spencer asked seriously after you'd all joked around about how dangerous your jobs were. The three of you went after serial killers, but Will was a cop in D.C., dealing with political protests and bomb threats on a nearly daily basis on top of the other more pedestrian crimes.
Will and JJ looked at each other seriously and smiled as JJ explained, "We have a deal. When big things happen, we each have the ability to call it."
"Call it?" you asked, eyes flicking to Spencer before focusing back on the Jareau-Lamontagnes.
"Yeah," Will nodded, meeting your eyes, wrapping an arm around JJ. "If something dangerous happens, we are allowed to decide that it's time to hang up the badges and hand in the guns."
"You'd leave...just like that?" Spencer clarified quietly, his hand finding yours below the table and giving it a squeeze.
"Just like that," JJ replied solemnly. "It hasn't happened yet, but there's been a few run-ins."
"How do you judge it?" you questioned, sort of awestruck by the simplicity of the idea.
"When you know you know," Will answered, smiling back down at JJ.
So, when the two of you got married, you'd struck the same deal. And there had been a handful of moments to choose from already: Spencer going to prison had been one where you'd almost called it, but he'd agreed to therapy and the bureau offered him long teaching breaks. You thought for sure he'd call it when you had your first child together (he'd been so overly protective that you were ready for him to call it before you'd finished the first trimester), but little Ramona arrived and you'd both taken full advantage of the very generous paternity and maternity leaves provided by the FBI. When JJ's bizarre confession occurred during the Casey Pinkner case, you'd almost called it again, not quite sure what to do with that. But you and Spencer talked it through, and JJ apologized multiple times, and the deal hadn't been called.
But today, today Spencer is ready to call it.
Because you’d been brought in to negotiate with a psychotic arsonist and every second he can’t see you, he’s convinced he’ll never see you again.
He can barely stand to listen to the feed over the comms; you’re a skilled negotiator, but the arsonist - a poor, confused man by the name of Jared Dial - isn’t budging. He’s also oddly quiet; too calm, too serene, it’s a hard listen and, he’s imagined that seeing it wouldn’t be much more helpful.
And then, without any warning, the building (Jared’s dilapidated childhood home) bursts into flames.
Spencer can’t breathe, he’s running out of air. It’s as though his ears have popped and he can’t hear. He hears a faint screaming coming from faraway. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s the one screaming, that he’s running towards the flames. Luke catches him and holds him back.
“Spencer,” the man implores him, barely managing to keep him at bay, “you can’t-“
“I have to do something,” Spencer sobs. “My wife’s in there, Luke and she-“
There’s a tug on his arm and then a hug so strong around his middle that his breath is caught in his throat. He looks down and is suddenly fully aware that he’s sobbing, because it’s you hugging him. The world feels dizzyingly slow for a moment because you’re okay. You’re alive.
You look up at him, tears rolling down your soot-covered face. He cups your face in his hands and presses his lips to yours, the kiss just as forceful and breathtaking as your hug had been.
The two of you pull away from each other, eyes meeting again. And then you speak at the exact same time:
“I’m calling it.”
~~~
Feel free to send me more kiss prompt requests from this list! xx
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Physically I am here. Mentally, I am running Aaron Hotchner a bath so he can unwind and tell me about his day
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
yalls i cant😩😩
Show us your latest picture/video/edit of oscar bestie, share us thy blessings. (You can also reblog this with the link to your moon knight/oscar isaac fan fiction, let us read that masterpiece)
823 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rb if your account is safe space for
-LGBTQ+
-People from every nation
-All religions
-Dark skin people
-Asian people
-Uyghur Turks and Muslims
-People with mental disorders
-People with illness
21K notes
·
View notes
Note
hi bby could u please write an imagine where rafe and his kook gf have plans to hang out at the island inn with top and kelce but y/n has her period and really bad cramps? you could come up with the plot and everything but something along those lines 🥺
show and tell
You were buried under your covers, skin brushing against the expensive silk as you sulked your way through an entire tub of chocolates. You’d woken up that morning with excited plans to spend the day with your boyfriend and best friends, plans that were rudely interrupted when you felt that first cramp.
The first day of your period was always the worst for you, and as soon as it started, you knew you weren’t going anywhere. You’d texted Rafe straight away, knowing he was coming to pick you up after he wrapped up his morning golf session, but he hadn’t replied yet.
You’d put away your expensive underwear and the white dress you’d gotten out the night before in preparation, immediately turning to your shorts and one of Rafe’s hoodies, wrapping yourself in his scent and warmth as you tried to ignore the massacre currently occurring in your womb.
You were four episodes deep in The Kardashians when the knock on your door interrupted you. You groaned in answer, not even bothering to move your head, and heard the door creak open in response.
“Shit, not even a hello for your wonderful, handsome boyfriend?” Rafe’s voice joked, and you threw yourself onto your back to pout in his direction, arms held out for a hug he immediately granted.
“There’s my girl. How we going?” He asked, bringing a hand down to caress your stomach gently.
“Dying. Death. Will you wait at least a year before moving on to someone new?” You asked, and Rafe smirked.
“Baby, I’d wait forever,” he pecked your cheek, your forehead, your lips, and the softness made you giggle. “I’d never find someone else with an ass like yours.”
“And then he ruined it,” you sighed, trying to shove him off you.
“Hey! Mean girlfriends don’t get gifts,” he scolded, and he had to laugh at the way your gaze shot back to him, excited smile on your face.
“Gifts? Gimme gimme gimme,” you held your hands out and he rolled his eyes, leaning over your bed to pick up a bag you hadn’t even noticed him carrying.
“Bit of show and tell?” He grinned, pulling out ice cream. “Item number one: my girl’s favourite flavour, and yes, I bought two, the others in the freezer.”
“I love you.”
“I know. Okay, item number two: those weird fruity drinks you love that taste like ass.”
“I love you again!” You reached out, grabbing them from him.
“I know again. Item number three: The Notebook, cause you know you’re gonna make me watch it and cry and talk about how you would marry Noah in a heartbeat even though I’m literally right here.”
You grabbed it from him, sighing at the cover. “I love him.”
Rafe rolled his eyes again, reaching back into the bag. “And finally, item number four: your favourite fluffy hot water bottle that you thought you’d lost that I literally spent an entire day last month looking for to surprise you.”
“Rafe! Oh my God, did I mention I love you? Because I do. Like, a lot,” you squealed, and he laughed, kissing your nose.
“Yeah, you might have told me a few times. Open the ice cream and put the film on, I’m gonna go warm this for you and grab spoons,” he ordered, heading for the door.
He poked his head back in. “And don’t text Sarah gushing about how sweet I’m being. I got a rep to protect.”
“Too late,” you sang back, nails clicking on your phone as you fired the message off, laughing at the puke face Sarah sent in reply.
You sighed happily, settling back into bed as you listened to Rafe rummage around your kitchen, wondering how in the world you’d gotten so damn lucky.
393 notes
·
View notes
Text
the fuckin “what mouth?” scene in MoM was definitely the most terrifying thing that’s ever happened in the mcu
8K notes
·
View notes