we get so disconnected
becca.18.las vegas
"hi I'm Becca I'm whorin' for Horan OH MY GOD IS THAT A BOYBAND WHAT DO I DO CAN I CRY OMG LEGEND OF ZELDA DON'T TALK TO ME ONLY TALK TO ME IF YOU'RE DARREN CRISS OR TOM DALEY'S BUTT" ~Sara




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20 October
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blink18muke:

My bucket list:

  • Have sex with Michael
  • Have sex with Calum
  • Have sex with Luke
  • Have sex with Ashton
  • Maybe have sex with all of them at the same time
  • Probably bang Michael a second time for the hell of it
8,819 notes
20 October
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ya hold me REEEEALLLLLLL TIGHT by ashton irwin
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133,906 notes
20 October
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dggystyle:

It is you. It is fucking you. I cannot describe it anymore, it is you. You are the only one that I will ever want. I belong with you. You are my home. I look at you, and somehow I can see 50 years from now on the front porch of some old house in the middle of nowhere and we’re together. I need you. You are the only thing that matters. You are my good.

(Source: amoribus)

81 notes
20 October
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Anonymous asked : Could you maybe do a prompt where you meet Niall at a uni party? cause college au's are always amazing xx

gagmeniall:

You were in college. Of you course you had met some boys at a few fraternity parties — it was hard not to when they littered the entire house, strewn out into throngs of students. You had enough run-ins with douchebags, drunks, and delinquents for a lifetime. They all seemed the same, too, begging you to take your top off or lie down on the kitchen counter so they could do body shots against your skin. They were loud, boisterous, with breaths that smelled entirely too much like cheap beer and warm tequila, and didn’t know a thing when it came to keeping their hands to themselves. Some you had kissed, others you had ignored completely after a minute or two of a one-sided conversation, but they were all the same. 

So when you first walked into the house party and were immediately drawn to a laugh that seemed to drown everyone else out, you rolled your eyes at the red solo cup in his hand and even more so by the fact he was playing beer pong. 

No,” you emphasized to your friend when you caught them looking at you, a waggle to their eyebrows. “Absolutely not. I have sworn off frat boys.” 

"He doesn’t belong to a fraternity," they explained, swinging an arm around your shoulders before steering you towards the beverage cooler, "They tried getting him to rush, but that boy only plays football during the week and gets drunk on the weekends." 

"You know him?" 

Your friend shot you an unbelievable look. “That’s Niall, captain of the football team. Are you sure you even go to this school?” 

Completely ignoring their statement of who he was, you filled your cup to the brim and turned so you were facing Niall’s direction again, watching his body language as he lobbed the ping pong ball across the table. “He looks like a douchebag with terrible form.” 

"He was in my biology class last semester. I only talked to him once to ask for a pencil, but he seemed nice enough. Very cute." 

The next time you were going to open your mouth, it was to say something ridiculous, like you were sure he was awful in bed or had the attention span of a four year old, but at the moment when your lips stared to part and your body was going to angle back to your friend, he turned, and his entire fucking face glowed and a row of straight, white teeth bared into a grin.  

Maybe he wasn’t looking at you, not necessarily, but no matter who he was attentive to, everyone’s gaze seemed to be caught on him — including yours. His biceps bunched when he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, his body still shaking with laughter and light. His hair was messy, a slight sheen of sweat coated around his hairline, but when he ran a large hand through it, the brunette was more prominent on either side of his head. He was broad in the shoulders and incredibly skinny in the legs, but his height was average and his build was amazing. He captured everyone’s eyes with his smile, drew them in with his laugh, and you’re sure that if you were close enough, you could see just how much those blue eyes twinkled. 

So, when he turned his head and you caught the working of his strong jaw, you were distracted for only a moment, not reading his eyes. When you tilted your head back up, heart hammering beneath your chest, you saw. You saw that he was looking straight at you.

(That’s how the beer spilled down the front of your shirt and what made him offer you his sweatshirt by the end of the night.) 

143 notes
20 October
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Anonymous asked : Niall wakes up to you crying because of a death of a fictional character

gagmeniall:

Niall had only been half-asleep, nestled snug inbetween the barrier of coherent and nearly drooling against his pillow, when you shifted onto your side and dug your watery eyes into the curve of his neck. It only had only been twenty, maybe thirty, minutes before he had shut his eyes when he asked if you were going to finish the book anytime soon. When you simply waved an absentminded hand at him, eyes trailing every word and punctuation mark in your hand, he laughed quietly, called you cute, and proceeded to pull the covers up to his hips before trying to sleep. 

However, when he was aware of the little sniffles you had been marking into his skin, and blinked his eyes open to the darkness, he was quick to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you tight against him. 

"Are you… are you crying?” he asked, almost a bit incredulously, before you mumbled out a not-so-convincing ‘no.’ “Babe,” he whispered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his hand rolled into a fist before chuckling against your skin and brushing the drips of tears away with his mouth. “Did something happen in your book, love?” 

"Don’t laugh at me," you mumbled, curling your elbows in so they were tight against Niall’s stomach. "M’sad."

At that moment, Niall decided to play along, roaming his fingers through your hair like he would when you were upset by something that happened in real life. He kissed each tear droplet away, smoothing out the stressed lines in your skin with his warm mouth. 

"Do you want to talk about?" he teased gently, "Maybe write me a three page book report?" 

That retorted a small giggle out of you, one that pushed into his shoulder. He bunched his fingers in the hair at the base of your neck, stroking the backside of your head in slow, soothing motions that made your wet eyes feel droopy and your body sag with exhaustion. 

You hummed in the back of your throat when Niall kissed your forehead, planting his lips firmly against your skin and lingering there for a few moments. “Will you drive me to the bookstore tomorrow before my first class?” 

Niall sighed in playful exasperation, although both of you know he would go out of his way to do anything you asked. He looked up at the ceiling and curled his arm more around your shoulders and neck, shifting your position so your head was lying on his chest. “I mean, I guess I can…. Are you going to get your snot all over my arm again tomorrow night?” 

You flicked the side of your body and he laughed, a beautiful sound that drifted into the darkness and made the moon shy away from the competition. 

Both of you lied awake in silence for a little longer, his fingers never once stopping through your hair while you kissed his chest and collarbones. When the silence wafted around the two of you for more than a few minutes, he turned his head and tucked it into your neck. 

"You know I’m just joking, right?" he whispered, soft and sweet and it came with kisses that lit your body ablaze. "I’ll buy you as many books as you want. Hell, I’ll buy out the entire store for you. I like it when you read. You look pretty." 

10,690 notes
20 October
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streus:

acne-a:

eloquencly:

found this on the bathroom stall at school
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20 October
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26,008 notes
19 October
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"This is your Sunday evening reminder that you can handle whatever this week throws at you."
19,131 notes
19 October
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438 notes
19 October
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"Its so hard to talk when you want to kill yourself. That’s above and beyond everything else, and it’s not a mental complaint-it’s a physical thing, like it’s physically hard to open your mouth and make the words come out. They don’t come out smooth and in conjunction with your brain the way normal people’s words do; they come out in chunks as if from a crushed-ice dispenser; you stumble on them as they gather behind your lower lip. So you just keep quiet."
Ned Vizzini (It’s Kind Of A Funny Story)

(Source: falling-apart-sl0wly)