Do You Write For Crawford Collins & Bobby Mares (just Like Friendship Stuff For Bobby Since Hes In A

Do you write for Crawford Collins & Bobby Mares (just like friendship stuff for Bobby since he’s in a relationship)

if people would like to see that, then of course :)

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

the love i’ve seen on just friends for the past week is AMAZING im so happy

to add on to the last harry ask in case you haven’t started writing it, maybe you could add the reader hurting themselves at the challenge maybe like twisting her ankle wrong or something and harry being super concerned

omg yes of course

According to all known laws of #colby brock x reader, there is no way a #jake webber should be able to #timothee chalamet angst.

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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