ok but why in my dream when i saw the creepy nun from the conjuring series i was totally chill and thought “oh shit she’s not scary at all” but when i saw mother fucking theresa i lost my shit???? make it make sense
george floyd is not a martyr. he is not a hero. he didn't sacrifice his life. he was murdered. stop thanking him for bursting your bubble of ignorance. stop talking about his legacy as if he chose to die. stop ignoring that police violence continues to exist and continues to murder people.
remember that black lives matter. all over the world.
Summary | It’s complicated. Your best friend is dating her ex’s best mate, Harrison, leaving tension between you and Tom. You’re supposed to hate him. But how can you with his boyish charms and those sweet brown eyes that make your heart pound just by looking at them?
Pairing | frat!tom holland x reader
Warnings | alcohol, this is hella angsty but it ends in some soft smut 18+
WC | 19k
A/N | back at it with the super long titles again. this fic has been a long time coming and I’m super excited to finally share it! I’d love to know your thoughts? drop me an ask or reblog :) hopefully the length doesn’t deter you from giving this a chance. this one shot is brought to you by my ex’s best friend — Machine Gun Kelly & blackbear. I swear I listened to it at least 200 times while writing this. Also this is not your typical frat boy tom..he’s a bit of a softie hehe
Summary → When an alliance is made between England and France, you are sent away to marry the crown prince and heir to the British throne. Except both you and Prince Thomas despise each other at all odds, subjected to the hand of the monarchy and unable to stand each other.
AN → I’m honestly so fucking excited for this, with a break from school coming after tomorrow I’m planning on the first chapter coming within the next couple of days. Just let me know to be added to the taglist!
“If this is what I must do for my country then so be it, however, do not think for a second that I would ever willingly marry someone like you,” he cursed, leaning in so close that you could feel his cool breath on your skin.
“Believe me, the feeling is mutual,” you said, looking him dead in the eyes. The weight of his words stung like a blade, his expression like pouring salt into an open wound.