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lu looking at all the valentines day couples at her party then guzman comes and compliments her and she says “i know” and the old lu would have agreed to dance with him and fallen back into things but she said NOPE I’M GOOD ON MY OWN and THAT IS GROWTH BABY... i’m so proud of her i love that bitch so much, she finally realized she doesnt need anybody else but herself i love that for her

gordieslachance

Hannah Brown is absolutely, without a doubt, the best Bachelorette we’ve ever seen. Home girl was born and raised in a small town in Alabama, of all places, the state in which women are probably afforded the fewest rights and respect out of anywhere in the country, and she’s unapologetically shattered every single stereotype that could be assigned to a woman from the Bible Belt.

On national television, despite what anyone back home would think, sweet Hannah unabashedly put Luke P, a raging misogynist who uses Christianity as a Trojan horse into expressing his horrifyingly outdated and sexist views (claiming that they’re in the name of religion), in his place, and used his precious bible against him, preaching to him better than anyone in any church could. This small town Alabama girl refused to be put down for being sexually liberated, refused to feel shame about being autonomous when it comes to sex, and refused to allow the beliefs of a disgusting man to impact her self image and decisions. Proudly stating “I have had sex, and Jesus still loves me” is empowering and wise, and perfectly articulates the juxtaposition between what Jesus preached versus how some of his followers have chosen to interpret his teachings. Hannah Brown, our wonderful Bachelorette, I salute you.

ya-gurl-emily

hergetaway-car

Me every time I meet a new guy?????????

girls-n-vibes

i cant wait to love the fuck out of somebody and not look stupid

hergetaway-car

This please.

agentbadbitch

Spent some of NYE crying over a boy and got over it by telling myself Bucky Barnes wouldn’t treat me like this

diablocodys

not to be a dramatic bitch but the iconic emily bronte line ‘i wish i were a girl again, half savage and hardy and free’ hits me in the chest every time and transports me to an undisclosed rural hill in england some time in the 1800s with my hair tangling in the wind as im forced to think about everything i was and everything i’m turning into

de-la-poussey-deactivated201812

things my parents never discussed with me

Save 10% of each check and put it into your savings. Living paycheck to paycheck will never keep you ahead of the game.

If you’re undecided about a career, pickup a trade or work your way up the ladder at your job. Do not continue to work in the same position for more than 2-3 years.

Seek therapy for your issues instead of self medicating with casual sex or drugs, venting to your friends constantly, becoming antisocial or co-dependant on someone. It’s not healthy.

If you’re not receiving the same energy you put into a friendship or relationship, leave. You are not a doormat.

*feel free to share*

st-pam

stydiaislove

Allow Lana Condor to share THE cutest story about her ‘To All The Boys…’ co-star Noah Centineo.

I think I died.

Me @ Noah Centineo

This is a fat ass mood

l0v3-r3v9

WOOOOE THATS FACTS THO

julesblackthorns

noah centineo is really out there being a feminist and calling out racism and supporting the blm movement and telling racist bigots to fuck off and challenging toxic masculinity by unapologetically expressing his emotions online and calling out men on their homophobic or sexist reactions and…….like, he just wants to read with someone on a date……..we really stan the softest boy

Mr Preacher Man [noah centineo]

Based on “Mr. Preacher Man” by The Driver Era

Italics = flashbacks

Warnings: talk of alcohol addiction

Word count: 2414

A/N: My first time writing anything and very new to this so I apologise in advance if it’s shitty!

Hey Mr. Preacher Man, I’ve been playing with a heart like a violin. I’ve been stumbling through the door after 6AM. Fix my soul so I don’t lose a love again.

His foot presses a little harder on the gas, knuckles almost white from gripping the steering wheel. The opening chords to the song filling the car, adding to the sound of his ragged breathing as he makes his way down to a familiar road. He’s fighting back fatigue as his mind registers the lyrics of the song on the radio a little too well, reminding him of what he is losing if he doesn’t make it back in time.

He spares a quick glance at the clock.

3:00am

At this time of night, you’d be half-asleep on the couch, his pillow and a warm blanket covering you as your eyes flutter, willing yourself to stay up just a little longer. You’d be in one of his many sweaters and a pair of your pyjama shorts, just the way he liked it. But something told him that you weren’t doing that tonight. Not anymore, anyway.

Then again, at this time, he’d probably still be mid-way through another drink with the guys, thoughts of going home far from his mind as he dances the night away, his sweaty body against someone else’s as he tries to forget everything even for a minute.

But he wasn’t. Not anymore, anyway.

He promised himself that.

More importantly, he promised you.

Hey Mr. Preacher Man, can you help me get away from this life of sin? I’m ashamed of the dark places I have been. Fix my soul so I don’t lose a love again.

Was it the lights? The addictive sound of the pounding bass ringing in his ears? Was it the endless stream of bodies dancing next to him? Or maybe it was the countless fake smiles and laughter and bold touches on his hot skin?

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know why he was in the middle of a club, surrounded by a sea of both familiar and unfamiliar faces as he nurses yet another drink.

All he knows is that he can’t stop.

Not that he didn’t want to- God, no. He wanted to. He wanted to so bad. But there was a part of him that was telling him one more wouldn’t hurt, that he was still in control. A part of him knowing and aching at the thought of you waiting for him to walk through the doors of your shared home, yet doing nothing to amend it. He couldn’t go home yet, not right now. Not when the boys were challenging him to yet another drinking game; not when his favourite songs blast through the club’s speakers, not when there were girls vying for his attention.

It wasn’t until he stumbles out of his taxi, disheveled but seemingly happy, that he looks at the time.

6:22am.

He had done it again. He knew he had let you down, and he knew his chest would tighten at the sight of you sleeping through yet another uncomfortable night. He didn’t know how to face you, not when his demons were catching up to him over and over again.

He almost begrudgingly opened the door, pushing it quietly until the lock clicks but the unfamiliar sight that met him causes him to pause at the door.

“Baby?” he calls out, the rasp evident in his voice from the drinking and screaming. His voice echoes and he could practically hear it bouncing off the walls. You were nowhere to be found. His heart pounded through his chest and he is sobering up faster than he ever has as he races up the stairs to the bedroom.

His heart is still pounding as he reaches the final step and makes a sharp left. He feels nauseous at the sight that meets him. You were waiting for him, like he expected. Of course you were. You always did. It was one of the reasons why he loved you- no matter how far he had fallen, he always had you to pick him up. However, something in your eyes made his whole body shake; whether it was fear, exhaustion or just pure nervousness, he didn’t know.

“Noah…” you start softly, eyes swollen and tired as you look up at him, a soft sniffle leaving your trembling lips when your eyes meet his. The sound was enough to make him want to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness- so he does. In a blink, Noah walks towards you and practically falls in front of where you’re sat on the end of the bed, bags packed next to you.

He finds it hard to catch his breath as he places his head on your lap. “Baby, I- I’m so so sorry I- I lost track of time and…” he trails off as he looks up and your heart clenches at the sight of your broken man. God, you loved him so much, you were as patient as you could be, you supported him through everything but enough was enough. After all, you deserved happiness too. He was diving to the deep end and no matter how many times you pulled him back, he couldn’t help himself. He needed the release and the unmatchable thrill of the partying and the drinking…and being with you didn’t seem to compare.

“I love you Noah…but…” it’s at this point, his mind goes completely blank. Your lips are moving and your eyes are watering. The fingers that are touching his face are shaking and he can practically see you swallowing back your sobs.

He had done this to you. Suddenly he takes in the dark bags under your eyes, the way your hair looks slightly disheveled and the tenseness in your shoulders. He takes note that you’ve lost a little weight and he struggles to remember the last time he had seen you eat properly in between all the fights, his long days and the late nights he’s been having to avoid you.

His eyes move back to your moving lips and his mind focuses on what you’re saying, only to catch you whispering “…I can’t do this anymore”. His breath hitches and it’s the final blow he’s been expecting. So, he swallows the lump in his throat, giving you a soft nod. You deserved better, he knew that. He’s known it all along but he had hoped- no, prayed, so selfishly that you wouldn’t come to the same realisation. But it was far too late.

I was driving through the city, just looking at myself, my conscience telling me that I should just turn this car around; but man, I got these demons and they telling me to go further into the night so the further I go.

You left a few minutes after, a soft goodbye and a slow kiss to his lips as though you were reminding him that you loved him; reminding him to come back to you someday; reminding him that it would be okay- he would be okay, you would be okay. It was all he needed. That same morning, he called his manager, got his team together and told them of his plan. He wanted you. He needed you. He was going to get better for you and for himself.

But by the time night fell, he found himself driving around the city, body aching and yearning to join the masses on a Saturday night, wasting away and drowning in his sorrows, lost in a throng of strangers again. After all, he didn’t have anyone to come home to anymore, but the thought goes as quickly as it came as he drives into the night, eyes tired but heart full of conviction as he passes by your favourite places for the third time that night. He drove until all he could think of was you, just you.

I’m down on my knees, yeah I’m paranoid. Don’t wanna repeat what I did before; I wanna believe that there’s something more.

He knew he didn’t deserve you. You were light and he was darkness, much as he tried not to be and much as the media painted him as though he was light…he knew he wasn’t.

He couldn’t help it when all his insecurities came to play. He was always gone, filming in yet another place for an extended amount of time. Not seeing you for months was taking a toll on him. When he was home, the lights, the flashes, the cameras, all of it, just added onto the pressure of having to be perfect. He wanted so bad to be perfect- not to just everyone on the outside looking in but he wanted to be perfect for you. He knew he couldn’t but damn it, he wanted to try.

As he gets closer and closer to his destination, his mind wanders a little more as he grips the steering wheel a little more at the thought of being too late. He didn’t consider that. He’d spent so much time bettering himself and thinking of you that he forgot to even consider the possibility that you were moving on. God, he hoped not. Would they know your favourite songs? All your favourite movies? Would they get to hear the laugh he loved so much? See his favourite smile? His chest tightens at the last one but he knows he’s going to keep doing his best to give you everything you deserved, to be the man you would be proud to show off- not because he was Noah Centineo, but because he was a man worthy to love you.

Blow a hundred miles an hour and the wind is in my hair, but my mouth is just too damn dry to utter out a prayer and the radio is blasting yeah, it’s keeping me awake ‘cause I just gonna get back to her before it’s just too late.

The music blasting through the speakers only spurs him on as he blinks back tears and checks the time again, 3:02am. He swears to himself that he’ll make it, if it’s the last thing he does. Just as he thinks of that, he makes the final right turn and is met with the street where he first met you. He allows himself to smile ever so slightly at the fond thought before he shakes his head. He was here for a reason.

He pulls up in front of the fifth house on the street and throws his car in park before hopping out, feet hitting the ground running to the front door. He takes a deep breath, his hands shaking as he sees the familiar red door to your childhood home. He knew you’d be here. This house met everything to you and soon after you met him, it meant everything to you both.

He lifts his hand and knocks, standing as straight as he can before nervously running his fingers through his curly tresses. There’s no answer but it doesn’t deter him. As he lifts his hand to knock louder the seventh time, the door swings open.

Hey Mr. Preacher Man, can you help me get away from this life of sin? I’m ashamed of the dark places I have been. Fix my soul so I don’t lose a love again…

“What are you doing here Noah?” you hiss as you open the door, tying up your fluffy white robe before crossing your arms across your chest, staring at the man standing before you. There’s a beat of silence and you take each other’s tired appearances in, hurt and pain emanating from both of you.

“I drove into the city tonight” he starts in a small, quiet voice and you almost have to strain your ears to hear him. His soft tone doesn’t seem to match his usually deep and raspy voice, which takes you by surprise and your eyes immediately soften, fingers twitching to reach out and comfort the tall brunette.

“Noah…” you start and you shake your head, a heavy sigh leaving your lips, not knowing what would bring him here, especially at- you glanced at the clock in your living room- 3:05am.

“I’ve been driving to the city every night and back to our house everyday since you’ve been gone” He starts, letting out a small, humourless laugh.

“Call me masochistic but I do it because it reminds me that every time I come home late, I come back to an empty house. I remind myself that I did it to myself. Every turn, every street, it all reminds me of you and then I come home and…” he swallows hard and shuts his eyes, willing himself not to break down.

“Noah…” you whisper, his name leaving your lips almost brokenly as your eyes well up with tears.

“I’ve been doing so well until I took a different turn today and I ended up here” He interrupts you, determined to get out everything he’s been wanting to say the entire time you were away. He needed you to know he was fighting his demons, that he was trying.

“Noah, this is hours away from our house- why-“

“I just don’t want to lose your love again, baby. None of my achievements, my downfalls- nothing matters if you’re not with me. Just please don’t tell me it’s too late, I want to come home. I want to come home to you” he whispers, voice breaking towards the end as he lets out a soft sob, the words flowing out of him.

He opens his eyes and stares into yours, seeing the pain he put there. You study the man standing in front of you, bags in hand and bags evident under his eyes. You look at the way his face seems more tired, the way his hair looks like he’s been running his fingers through them relentlessly. He didn’t look like your Noah anymore and that thought clenched at your heart. Despite everything, he was yours as you were his, two broken pieces just trying to find their way back to each other.

You glance at the clock with a sigh, “It’s been a while since you’ve been home before 6am, Centineo” you whisper softly, the slightest hint of teasing, in an attempt to somewhat comfort the shaking man in front of you. You slowly push the door open a little more, letting him in one more time with the hope that maybe, just maybe this time would be different.

#noah centineo #noah centineo imagines #tatbilb #noah centineo x reader #noah centineo imagine #noah centineo one shot #noah centineo fanfic #noah centineo fanfiction

ineffablywriting

you make everything better

Peter and Lara Jean broke up; Peter’s not quite ready to let her go. If only he’d stop saying all the wrong things and just told her the truth. After all, Lara Jean and Peter will not break each other’s hearts. ** Peter’s POV from scenes in book 2.

Read on AO3 // Let me know what you think!

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hergetaway-car

My heart literally tore apart and mended itself. Like how.