Should I Start Writing For Jake Webber And Colby Brock?? I Really Want To Ummm

should i start writing for jake webber and colby brock?? i really want to ummm

can i add on to the last anon and say imagine the reader goes to the bathroom and are kinda drunk and on her way out she trips over harry’s bag and ends up with her nose like bleeding, and harrison feels really bad ab it?

YES! i am loving all of this!! i’ve been vv busy lately so haven’t had much time to write, but i promise i am writing it hehehe

don't be shy send some requests

i need mutuals that are also in love with timothee and kian

post up🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Could I request being in the reality house and liking Harry? It’d definitely be annoying since the cameras film them 24/7 so she can’t hide it.

YES YES YES THANK YOU I WILL WRITE TOMORROW

All’s Hard in Love and War | s.m

[gif by @noorhelmgifs]

i asked you guys your favourite tropes + clichés & these are the most popular ones i received and smashed into one: 

forced to share one bed + hate to love + SEXUAL TENSION!

word count: some 7k. could be way longer which is why i might write a part 2

warnings: Mindless Stupidity at its peak. pls leave your brains at home. unnecessary pop culture references

“You have got to be kidding me.”

The two overly jetlagged, underfed young adults whip their heads towards each other, eyes narrowed, teeth grit. Before she can even begin to open her mouth, Shawn’s hissing, “I said it first.”

“You so did not.”

“I so did. When you said ‘you’ I’d already reached ‘got’, and hence, we can conclude that I think that they’re kidding. At least, I thought it first.”

She huffs. A heavy frown settles behind her brows. She could fight with him, she knows she has it in her. However, her feet ache and her hair’s all knotty and she just wants to sink into a hotel mattress and forget that this headache of a person exists. She decides to let Shawn have this one. (Knowing full well, of course, that if they’re to spend a week together, there’s going to be a thousand more instances just like this. She can get him back then.) “I am not sharing a room with him. He’s big and he’s loud and he annoys the living hell out of me.”

She sees him shift in her periphery, roll a suitcase in front of him to lean his body weight on. “Yes, let’s talk about me like I’m not here.”

The look she throws his way could probably kill. She wishes it would. “I really wish you weren’t.”

“You know what, you—”

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