
No title available
noise dept.
Misplaced Lens Cap

Love Begins
Cosmic Funnies
One Nice Bug Per Day
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Peter Solarz

Origami Around
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available

roma★

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Show & Tell

Janaina Medeiros

No title available

shark vs the universe
tumblr dot com
DEAR READER
dirt enthusiast
seen from Venezuela
seen from Japan

seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from Spain

seen from South Africa
seen from Portugal

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore

seen from Türkiye
seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from Poland
seen from United States

seen from Switzerland
@vvssqqz6
who made ts 😭
slavko vinčić is my biggest opp
OH MY FUCKING GOD GOAL OH MY GOSH PLEASE WE HAVE TO WIN THIS GOD BLESS POLAND 🇵🇱🦅🇵🇱🦅🇵🇱🦅🇵🇱🇵🇱🇵🇱🇵🇱
summary: you suck at irl among us.
harry lewis x reader
word count 1525
the new vid inspired me idk, this isn’t much
IT HAD TAKEN you 5 minutes into the video to get killed the first time. You were adamant it was all Harry’s fault.
You agreed to watch each other’s backs while you tried to get a task completed. In true Harry fashion he forgot what he promised to do. Lost focus. It meant Simon and Will had snuck up on you and carried out an annoyingly impressive double kill.
The two of you fell to the floor where you stood, or you did at least. As for Harry, he saw an opportunity and took it. He waited for you to lay down, then seemingly misjudged his size and ended up covering half of your body.
You grunted but didn’t protest much. That was how he knew you were okay with it.
Jezus nienawidze jak gram przeciwko temu zasranemu siriusowi 😭😭 proboje go zabic a on spawni te swoje klony obsrane
ezz gg
🗣️: pedri, pedri, pedri
the future is now, Marc Bernal
marc i love youuu my baeee 💞💞🫶🏻🥰
lewy hoe u better be playing
im a fucking noob wjat i hate brawl stars
i lowkirkenuinely want to kms
każdego dnia dziękuję Bogu za to że nie urodziłam się w warszawie 😭🥀
Isaiah 9:2
The people who walked in darkness, have seen a great light; those who dwell in the land of the shadow of death, upon them a light has shined.
between us pt.2
pairing: eric garcia x torres!reader
summary: in which you fall for your brother's teammate
waarnings: none!
a/n: requested on my wattpad!
prev // next
the problem with deciding to hide something is that it immediately becomes more tempting.
more reckless.
more alive.
you tell yourselves you’ll be careful.
you are not careful.
the first time you stay at eric’s place, it isn’t planned.
it was supposed to be coffee.
then a walk.
then “just one movie” on his couch.
and suddenly it’s midnight and you’re barefoot on his kitchen tiles, wearing one of his hoodies, laughing too loud at something that isn’t even that funny.
“i should go,” you say weakly.
neither of you move.
“yeah,” he agrees, not letting go of your hand.
you both know you won’t.
when he kisses you this time, it isn’t hesitant.
it’s not balcony-soft and unsure.
it’s months of tension and years of almost.
it’s his hands firm at your waist, your fingers in his hair, the quiet gasp you don’t manage to swallow.
you wake up the next morning in his bed, sunlight pouring across white sheets, his arm heavy and warm around your middle.
for a moment, it feels simple.
then your phone buzzes.
ferran: when are u coming home?
your stomach drops.
you slide out of bed carefully, grabbing your clothes from the floor.
eric blinks awake. “everything okay?”
“yeah,” you whisper. “i just— i told ferran i was at a friend’s.”
eric pushes himself up on one elbow, watching you.
“so technically not a lie,” he murmurs.
you throw him a look. “don’t.”
he smiles, slow and infuriatingly soft.
you lean down and kiss him again anyway.
reckless.
“how was marta’s?” ferran asks that afternoon, tossing you an apple from the kitchen counter.
you catch it, hoping your face isn’t giving anything away.
“good. we watched a movie.”
“which one.”
you freeze for half a second.
“uh. the one with — you know. the sad dog.”
ferran squints. “that’s not a title.”
“it was sad. there was a dog. i cried. end of story.”
he watches you a beat longer than comfortable.
then shrugs.
“dog movies are sad.”
you exhale internally.
too easy.
dangerously easy.
it gets worse after that.
when ferran and eric hang out at your apartment, you play your part.
casual.
normal.
until eric stands up mid-conversation.
“bathroom,” he mutters.
ferran doesn’t even look up from his phone.
you’re already halfway down the hallway.
the bathroom door closes.
two seconds later, it opens again and eric slips into your room instead.
you barely have time to whisper “you’re insane” before he’s kissing you.
quick.
urgent.
like you’re stealing something.
which you are.
“he’s in the other room,” you breathe against his mouth.
“i know.”
“this is stupid.”
“yeah.”
he kisses you again anyway.
your heart pounds so loud you’re convinced ferran can hear it through the walls.
a floorboard creaks in the hallway and you jump apart like you’ve been caught committing a crime.
eric smooths his shirt, runs a hand through his hair.
“get out before he gets suspicious,” you hiss.
“so worth it,” he smiles, already backing toward the door.
he actually goes into the bathroom this time, flushes the toilet for effect.
you sit on your bed trying to steady your breathing.
when you both reappear in the living room, ferran glances up.
his eyes move between you.
slow.
assessing.
“why do you both look red?" he asks.
“it’s hot,” you answer immediately.
“yeah,” eric echoes.
ferran looks at the air conditioner humming above you.
it is very much not hot.
he narrows his eyes.
but he doesn’t say anything.
the closest call happens on a thursday.
ferran’s at eric’s place.
you’re not supposed to be there.
you were.
you’d come over earlier, thinking ferran was still at pedri's.
timing miscalculated.
you’re in eric’s bedroom when you hear the front door open.
ferran’s voice carries down the hallway.
“hermanoo, i’m starving.”
your blood turns to ice.
eric looks at you.
you look at him.
“balcony,” he whispers urgently.
“are you insane.”
“trust me.”
you absolutely do not trust him.
but you slip out onto the small back balcony anyway, heart in your throat.
you can hear them in the kitchen.
cupboards opening.
ferran talking about something from training.
eric responding like nothing is wrong.
like you are not hiding ten feet away trying not to breathe too loudly.
after what feels like an hour but is probably like seven minutes, eric appears in the doorway.
“i’m grabbing something from my room,” he calls casually.
his footsteps approach.
the balcony door slides open just enough for him to slip outside.
you glare at him. “this is your fault.”
“you look hot when you’re mad.”
“eric.”
he kisses you anyway.
quick.
reckless.
“five minutes,” he murmurs. “i'll distract him then you leave through the stairwell. he won’t see.”
you stare at him.
“you’re enjoying this way too much.”
“a little.”
you shove his shoulder.
but you’re smiling.
and that’s the problem.
because this isn’t just hiding.
it’s thrilling.
it’s dangerous.
it’s you sneaking out of his building with your hood up while your brother laughs in the kitchen, completely unaware.
it’s eric texting you five seconds later:
him: made it out alive?
you: you’re going to ruin my life.
him: worth it.
you shouldn’t love that answer.
you do.
but ferran isn’t stupid.
he starts watching.
small things at first.
the way eric’s body subtly angles toward you in group settings.
the way you both disappear at the same time a little too often.
the inside jokes that don’t make sense to anyone else.
one night, ferran pauses mid-sentence while the three of you are sitting in the living room.
his eyes move between you.
back and forth.
slow.
“…what,” you ask carefully.
he leans back against the couch.
“nothing.”
it’s the same tone as before.
which means it’s absolutely something.
eric’s knee brushes yours.
you don’t move it away.
ferran notices that too.
you see it in the slight tightening of his jaw.
the protective instinct flickering on like a warning light.
and suddenly the thrill feels thinner.
more fragile.
because sneaking around is fun.
until it isn’t.
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