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#Ash's flower card
illustratinghan · 6 months
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Acorn ~ Immortality 🌞
- a recreation of Magnus Bane’s flower card -
characters by @cassandraclare 🤍
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thornschild · 8 months
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the whole gang is here
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witchlingcirce · 4 months
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Need them to feel like this song
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a-random-insomniac · 5 months
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Me after finding out about the tlkof release date:
I’ll be doing this every day for 2 years 😁
I’ll be doing this everyday for 2 years 😭
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diivinidad · 1 year
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Here go some muse tags!
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gloomwitchwrites · 2 months
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You tell them you paid $200 to put premium air in your tires.
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Anon! I am SCREAMING! This prompt has me cackling in the best way possible. I know that this comes from a TikTok trend, and I've seen a few of the videos under this prank, and they're absolutely hilarious. I had a very fun time with this one. Giggled during the world writing process. Presented in four drabbles. Enjoy!
Task Force 141 x Reader
For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE
Content & Warnings: swearing, humor, pranks
Word Count: 400
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
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John Price
“Love,” breathes John, placing his hands on either side of you. “You did what?”
“The low tire pressure light came on—”
“I know that. After.”
“I stopped at the shop you always take my car to. They offered me premium air.”
John takes a shuddering breath. “Premium air?”
“Yes,” you beam. “I got a good deal.”
“A good deal?” he repeats.
“Half off! Two hundred dollars.”
John blinks. His face growing pale. “What?”
You wave your hand flippantly. “It’s usually four hundred.”
“Four hundred?” John’s voice spikes, almost cracking.
“Helps with suspension!”
“Fucking hell. Show me the bloody receipt.”
John "Soap" MacTavish
Johnny twists in the driver seat, staring you down. “You did what?”
“I put premium air in the tires. It was a deal. Came with the oil change.”
Johnny’s mouth drops open. Closes. Opens again. “Premium air,” he says, almost absently.
“They only charged me two hundred.”
“Two hundred?” chokes Johnny.
“Why?” you ask innocently. “Is that bad?”
“Bloody hell, love,” he groans, leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes.
“Used your credit card for the points, too!” you beam, giving Johnny your best smile.
Johnny sighs and starts the car. “You’re lucky you’re cute and I love you.”
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
“Baby, listen.”
“It’s great, isn’t it? It’ll help with the balance.”
“The balance?” asks Kyle. He mutters your name and then rubs his hands over his face.
“Should I not have gotten the premium air upgrade?” you ask.
Kyle is hanging by a thread. He breathes deep, and holds his hands out in front of him.
“Do you have the receipt?
“No.”
“Where did you take the car?”
You frown. “I did it for you. Are you not happy?”
Kyle sighs. “I love you. I am grateful. Just tell me where you went. I only want to talk with them.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“I said the tires needed to be rotated.”
“I know,” you say. “But they made me an offer. Said it was a good deal.”
“Premium air?”
“Yes,” you shrug. “And?”
Simon goes red in the face. “How much did they charge for ‘premium air?’”
“Two hundred.”
Simon stares up at the sky. “And how much did they charge you for the tire rotation.”
“One fifty.”
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Get in the fucking car.”
“Why?” you snap. “Did I do something wrong?”
Simon sighs loudly. “No. Just want to talk to the fucking wanker that sold you premium fucking air.”
taglist:
@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath
@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett
@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82
@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim
@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000
@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla
@sadlonelybagel @daemondoll @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky
@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos
@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez
@pearljamislife @ash-tarte @eternallyvenus @spookyscaryspoon @vrb8im
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mechanisedbrainrot · 11 months
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MECHANISMS REF IMAGE MASTERPOST
Okay, so I put together refs for each of the mechs as best I can. I tried to avoid anything in a show lighting, but sometimes it can't be helped. Notes will be underneath each section
Whole cast
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Ivy is the only character leaning on the wall in the second image, but is roughly as tall as Ashes
Jonny D'Ville
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Jonny in earlier shows like TTBT wears a black shirt underneath instead of the white. He occasionally has red or black painted nails and his goggles are either black or bronze. He has a black 7 of diamonds. He often holds a mic - which is a Shure Super 55
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Drumbot Brian
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He usually has just the flower in his hat, but sometimes it's replaced with RAM or his drumsticks. His goggle has a very small crack at the base. The rings seem to be a bit of a motherboard and screws? The visible heart is something I can only find in one picture, but it's cool
Gunpowder Tim
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Sometimes wears jeans instead of dark brown trousers. His eye scars are more geometric than Jonny's, and he has dark eye shadow around the eyes where Jonny uses just eyeliner
Raphaella la Cognizi
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The top is three layers: a white/cream shirt, a brown puffy shirt and a a top layer which has a halter neck. Occasionally one or both of the undershirts won't be worn (see HNOC liveshow). Tights can be blue or black. Light up wings from DTTM
The leggings/tights are sometimes black and sometimes deep blue
Ivy Alexandria
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A few different outfits, in liveshows they're also wearing some outfits not shown here - but always black and red with a waistcoat of some kind.
Nastya Rasputina
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The necklace is a little cat :3
Marius von Raum
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Kneepads in DTTM. The cards are a jack and ace of hearts. Necktie either has a white or gold pattern on it, but they don't always wear it. The green jacket has a tailcoat
The Toy Soldier
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Hair varies a lot. Sometimes it's worn down, in a ponytail or hidden under the hat. Sometimes nails are painted red or black
Ashes O'Reilly
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In live shows they often wear this eyeliner which has thick bars that go behind the ears - but I couldn't find any clear pictures of this. Though their outfits changes, always mostly black with some red in the hair
Dr Carmilla post can be found here
I hope this was in some way helpful to anyone who wants to draw the mechanisms. If you have questions feel free to ask me in the ask box and I will do my best to answer them and provide some photos <3 have a great day
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nanamiscocksleeve · 13 days
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You had me at LaDs again... 🥰
Time to spam the inbox.
SFW: In the language of flowers, what bouquet would each of boys create for their dear Hunter and why?
Flowers For You
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Zayne:
I feel like this one is obvious but it would be jasmines.
Jasmines represent love, beauty, and sensuality, qualities I think represent Zayne's romantic side very well.
Jasmines represent immortal love. There's a legend from an Indian text about a princess falling in love with a sun god, and is murdered by her jealous ex-lover(Astra is that you?) because of it. When the princess's ashes are scattered, jasmines bloom from them. I'd like to think that even after all the misfortune Zayne has suffered, his love remains unwavering.
Their scent promotes relaxation but is also an aphrodisiac
Xavier:
Sunflowers. There's just nothing else to represent this man's light.
They represent strength, good fortune and loyalty. Considering how much space travel Xavier has done to find his queen, these qualities portray him accurately. He's endured a lot, and despite the urgency to save Philos, he remains loyal to his woman and takes a strong show of character as well.
They also are a symbol of hope, also tying in with Xavier's story that perhaps saving Philos does not mean having to lose the love of his life
Rafayel:
He'd send tulips. The variety of colors they come in brings out his artsy side.
Tulips represent unconditional love and rebirths which tie into his lore where he loves MC anyway despite her betrayal, and him hoping there's a better chance for their love with each new life he finds her in.
His bouquet would be full of red and pinks, since they represent affection and devotion.
Sylus:
Despite everything, Sylus is a traditional man. He'd send roses.
The classic flower to indicate romantic interest, he's going to make sure you're aware of his intentions. He'll probably send bouquets to your office, much to the envy of your colleagues, usually without a card because it's obvious who they're from.
He'll have Mephisto sneak single roses into random spots; your car's windshield, your kitchen window, on your pillow. It's his way of letting you know he's thinking of you.
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poppy-metal · 3 months
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hnngnngnggggnnn Patrick being a spoiled little rich boy <3
need to be his sugar baby :( getting to lounge around his mansion and use his black card at any shops you want as long as your mouth or pussy or ass are available to him whenever he wants :((
his little free use girlfriend who he parades around at important events in skimpy dresses that make people stare at you in shock, all so he has easier access to lift up your skirt or tug down the top and reveal your tits if the whim arises :((((
#needthat
need to be rich!patrick zweigs bratty sugar baby. need to be his little mistress because he never separated from his family and grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth and became pro at tennis and became like all the other boring fucking older men at his fathers country club he swore he'd never be. need him to hate his life and how easy everything was to obtain and how his marriage is loveless and she doesn't even put out and his kids are rich little brats he can't connect with because they're little ipad kids, absolute demons, they wont go outside with him they dont wanna learn to play tennis or any sport or run around and make stick and dirt soup like he did when he was a kid and life is so fucking boring everything is in grays - until he meets you.
at a bar one night. its not the first time hes cheated on his wife - but it might be the first time he's fallen in love. he sees you and wants to fuck you immediately. already decides he'll have your panties around one ankle while he shoves a tongue up your cunt in the bathroom stall - he buys you a drink and you let him. you're sweet and flirty and you draw him in like a bee to a pretty flower - he's subconsciously leaning in, eyes can't stop dropping to your lips.
things take a turn though when you get up to leave and he blinks because he didn't mean to get swept up in the conversation - chases after you to try again - to take you back to a hotel or even in the back of his car - but you tell him no.
he just looks at you. confused. hard. "no." he repeats. rolls it around in his head. foreign. hasn't heard it much before. it sounds sweet coming from your lips.
"you're not fucking me." you tell him simply.
that shouldn't turn him on but it does. he's not stupid. you were attracted to him. he'd seen the way you looked at him - bitten your lip. he knows he's not projecting, because even now you're smiling as you say it.
he rubs a thumb over his bottom lip as he checks you over. strappy heels, but cheap. tight little bodysuit, but not designer. flashy purse but he knows the diamonds on it are fake.
ah.
"you in college?"
you smooth a hand down your hair. "sophomore year."
he nods, leans against the brick building of the bar. fishes in his coat pocket for his packet of cigarettes. "what're you studying?" he flips the box open, slides a cig out - brings it to his lips.
you eye him curiously as he roots for his lighter next - trying and failing to ignore the heat in your belly at how good this man looks leaning against something with a cigarette dangling from his lips.
"we already did the small talk, dude. you're not getting any."
he ignores that. lights his cigarette and inhales. he likes that you're obviously irritated but you dont move away. he blows smoke through his nose. says again, "what're you studying."
you huff. roll your eyes. he watches you calmly, taking drags his cig. in the cool night air you can't tell the exact shade of his eyes, but you think they're green. everything about him screams money and dominance.
you cross your arms. "law." short but simple.
he nods like that makes sense, flicks ash.
"that's good." he says it in a way that sounds like he means it but also could be condescending and you dont know why that makes you swallow deeply. "expensive, though."
you narrow your eyes.
"you think im poor?"
usually someone would fumble after being called out like that but patrick just smiles in a way that says he knows you are -
"i know you're not rich."
you bristle. that hurts. you don't know why. who wants to look rich, anyway. fucking snobs. but still, its embarrassing to be told the distinction in class is obvious to someone else who's far far above you. you can already tell the watch hes wearing costs more than the apartment you can barely afford.
"thanks for the unasked for observation, dickhead." you yank your purse strap higher on your shoulder, make to turn away. "I'd say its been pleasant but well, it hasn't. so."
you make it a couple steps before he calls out -
"I'll pay it."
you're alot of things. you're haughty and stubborn and yeah, not rich. you're also down on your luck and struggling and drowning in so many things in the moment - barely being able to afford your own fucking beer at this point when what you wanted to accomplish in life would take thousands, thousands of dollars. so hearing the word 'pay'. well, yeah. it makes you turn around to face the guy.
"you'll what?"
he knows you heard. it was cute how you perked right up.
"I'll pay it." he gestures towards you. "all of it - your semester. your tuition. textbooks. whatever else you need."
you gawk at him.
the thing is. he's attractive. alarmingly so. disarmingly really. he's tall and broad and he dresses well. he has that perfectly styled hair and deep rich man scent that makes your mouth water. a beautiful face with a rouge kind of touch. you'd have fucked a man like him under any normal circumstance, but given the way your life is going at the moment - you haven't the time to waste on pretty men with big dicks.
probably. he probably has a big dick.
"you're fucking kidding me."
"nah." he licks his bottom lip. takes another drag. flicks more ash to the pavement. he looks at you like he's already imagining you naked in front of him. "I'm good for it."
"well duh." you look him up and down. "you look like you just stepped out of a magazine for mens wealth or whatever. why the fuck are you offering? you expect me to suck your dick for it or something?"
you say the last part sarcastically, rolling your eyes - but patrick just looks at you seriously. sucks the humor right from your bones when he says - "yeah, i do."
two things happen in your body.
firstly, you stiffen. the urge to slap him for being so derogatory making your fingers twitch at your sides. your face burns.
secondly and most apparently, your cunt throbs. your nipples tighten. you inhale sharply in a way patrick notices. smirks at.
you blink at him several times.
"i can't believe you just seriously said that to me." you say it kind of breathlessly. you really can't believe it though.
"should i be more clear?" he takes one step towards you. "i want to fuck you - you want to fuck me, but you won't do it for free. I'm offering to pay you for it."
"i - im not a whore."
the grin patrick gives you makes a tremble shoot through your whole body. you feel it in your toes.
"you sure about that?"
you really should slap him.
you dont.
you fumble, "you're married." you'd spotted the ring at the bar earlier. it hadn't been the reason you turned him down initially, but still.
"you dont care about that."
fuck.
"you cant just...... buy whatever you want. im a person."
he nods. he's done with his cigarette so be crushes it beneath his boot. "give me your hand." he just takes it anyway. you watch dumbly as he gets a pen from his pocket - how many things did he have in his fucking pocket? - bites the cap off, and brings the tip to your palm. "this is the number for my personal phone."
of course he had multiple phones. he doesn't let go of your hand when he's done writing. rubs his thumb into the pulse point at your wrist.
"when you change your mind -" when not if. "- i want you to call me."
you go to pull your hand away, but patrick squeezes it.
"one more thing."
he's close enough the spicy mint scent of him fills your nose. he dips his head so he's closer to your ear, you feel the stubble on his chin graze your cheek -
"when you let me fuck you - you will be a cheap whore. you'll let me do what I want to you. and i know its not because of the money. but i understand what its like to need something to let yourself have something else." he turns his head. kisses your cheek. "don't take too long to call, though. I'm not a patient man."
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felibrary · 5 months
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COLUMBA
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synopsis: rainbow roses represent love and passion. similar to the feelings you’ve harbored for lyney ever since the two of you were children, feelings full of determination and tenderness.you take the initiative to confess your feelings,  the cards are already laid out on the table, the choices have already been written out and decided. besides one: the one that reveals lyneys response. how will he react?
✧ pairing: lyney x reader | wordcount: 2.1k | content and warnings: fluff, angst, confessing feelings | prompt: unrequited love | oneshot
✧ authors note: i might dislike this one even more than the "wish you were sober" one... this one's just so much more choppier</3
✧ tags: @azullumi
event: STARCROSSED 2024
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“and a rainbow rose for you!” 
the sly magician winks at you as he reaches out his gloved hand to yours. lyneys slender fingers are gracefully wrapped around the stem of the colorful flower. he looks at you, eyes full of anticipation as he awaits your reaction. 
his eyes twinkle like an amethyst - a gem that gleams and reflects the fluorescent light as it gets shone upon, presenting the purity that lies hidden beneath the depths of the pair of eyes. the irises that are drenched in a deep purple glint with a certain shimmer that you can’t quite make out. if you were to take a guess you’d say that they look hopeful, buoyant, almost fond. 
seriously, who were you to deny him? his smile is probably worth a fortune, it’s blithe practically dreamy. the ash blond is undeniably a beauty among the nation of justice - a seraphic seashell that lies buried in the fine sand, easily seeping through the tiny gaps of the palms as it is held with utter care. petite sand corns disappearing out of sight and the only object that remains in the hands is the mussel. 
it basks in the radiant sunlight and the sand that slipped out of the grasp of the fingers can only watch in envy, as the seashell continues to relish in the gentleness of the person who discovered it. the one who is allowed to see its beauty and all the secrets that are kept sealed beneath.
amid the vague living room light, lyney continues to shine as elegant as ever. his stage presence long-forgotten, revealing his true nature to you, the lyney whom you know, the one whom you grew up with, the one who makes your heart race. the lyney that shows himself to the outside world is simply just the celebrated magician of the court of fontaine but there was much more to lyney, so much more. 
to the people of fontaine he’s like the backside of a playing card, unaware of the image, the number, the symbol that is imprinted on it. but that’s not the case for you. unlike them you know lyney like the back of your hand. the two of you grew up together at the house of the hearth. under the care of father with lynette, freminet and the other children that resided there. 
no matter how many times lyney and lynette tried to trick you with one of their new learned magic tricks, you’ve always seen through them. nevertheless you weren’t able to deny that they were really impressive, especially for children of such a young age. naturally, over the years he grew up to be a grand magician, not only wrapping the audience that was seated in the rich red places in the court around his fingers, but also you. luring you in by coaxing mellow praises into your ear and simple gestures like this one, offering you a rainbow rose a day before a performance. 
an action that never fails to make you swoon.
his incandescent eyes, the ones that glow like a vibrant glass shard that got swept to the shore by the tide, his million dollar smile that is plastered on his pale face, they are the traits that make lyney look simply irresistible. 
(you don't think you could ever reject lyneys advances, after all you’ve already fallen far too deep into the bottomless abyss, also known as love, to search for your path out.)
right now, at this moment you think lyney looks absolutely majestic, heavenly even. taking a snapshot of this wouldn’t be enough to capture the beauty of lyney. neither would a portrait do the job well. the movements of the paintbrush are delicate, swiftly moving around the canvas, but they’re not enough. no matter how many brushstrokes were to be painted, they still wouldn’t be enough. 
(either way he’d outshine every other painting that gets hung next to his. he’s the muse that will always be out of everyone's reach.) 
simply because lyneys beauty, his bare nature, is something to keep etched into your mind, engraving it onto stone so that it will never fade or wash away, no matter the circumstances.
you reciprocate his action, accepting the flower. grasping the rainbow rose carefully, so that the stem doesn’t crinkle and eventually falls into two pieces or the blossom loses its petals. “my, what’s the occasion?” a performance awaits the folk of fontaine tomorrow. you already knew the answer, but, nevertheless you question him. lyneys honeyed voice is a sound you’ll never get tired of. listening to him as he talks never feels like a chore, rather, it feels like a voluntary course that isn’t important at all. but nevertheless you stick around, to not miss what others don't get to see.
“well, as you might already know, a performance awaits the folk of fontaine tomorrow.” the magician responds. you can only chuckle at that, predicting lyney has always been easy for you. 
“is that so? i can't wait.” you give him a small grin and take another peek at the flower. beautiful, you think to yourself as you look up to lyney once again. the corners of your mouth curve into a content smile. lyney stares right back at you and does the same, giving you a bright grin in return that makes your heart pump quickly. 
the brightness of lyneys smile competes with the one of the sun, it’s warm and welcoming. it works wonders like medicine, soothing and curing your wounds with a simple grin. lyney is out of this world, he's charismatic, making you fall for him head over heels. fun to be around, always making you laugh over stupid jokes. and not to mention caring. 
the first two buttons of his white dress shirt are unbuttoned, showing off his delicate collarbone. lyney was never particularly muscular, rather, he had a quite slender build.
“i’ve never put much effort into my physical training as in my shows. after all, i have an audience to bewitch with magic tricks, not my body."  you recall his words and the giggle he let out after.
some strands of his ash blonde hair are out of place, including his dyed one. his maroon colored hair slightly stands out, but you don’t mind, it's similar to the color of a maple leaf, vivid and lively. flying through the wind, admired by passersby as it floats around in the air. out of reach until someone takes the chance to grab it. 
“by the way, where’s the thank you?” lyney jokes in an offended manner. his sultry voice snapping you out of your former haze. 
“hm?” you tilt your head to the side.
“for the flower.” he points at the rose with his gloved finger. 
“ah, right. thanks a lot, it's really pretty.” you thank him by giving him another smile. before casting your gaze down to the rose again, admiring the colorful petals as you remember charlotte's words. 
“for example, magicians often use “rainbow roses” in their flower related performances to represent passion and romantic encounters.” her words stuck to you like a millstone around one’s neck. surely lyney knows what they mean, he’s not unaware what they symbolize right?
it makes you wonder if lyney is aware of your feelings, and possibly even returns them. lyney has always had a keen eye for the beauty of this world, attentively swaying his gaze around and admiring the elegance that lies within each individual. did lyney also see that kind of beauty in you? one that goes even further down, reaching into the inescapable depths. but then he’d face the ugliness that slummers at the bottom, despite that, how is lyney able to love you? 
for you the beauty of this planet has always been lyney. he’s the sun that you bask in, relishing in its warmth as the sun tendrils place delicate kisses on your body. the water that engulfs your body, plattering against your limbs and makes you feel refreshed. he’s the blood that runs through your veins, the one that makes you function properly.  
the question still lingers in the air: does lyney reciprocate your feelings? 
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your grip around the rose is tight, fearing that it might slip out of your grasp when you’re inattentive and losing it. you watch lyney make his way to the stage, the crowd already awaits their renowned magician, waiting in and staring in awe as he performs another unpredictable magic trick. 
the air is thick, the tension increases at every passing second, for both you and the crowd. if lyney takes another step, you’ll lose the lyney you know, your lyney. instead you’ll have to watch as he takes up on his persona, even if it’s only for a mere hour, it always feels like an eternity to you, until you get to see the lyney whom you love again. 
besides the sound of lyney who was shuffling his cards thoroughly once again, it was dead silent.
“nervous?” lyney looks up to you, a knowing glint in his eyes. 
“huh?” you’re confused, what is he implying.
“the way you fiddle with your fingers.” he points at your hands with one of the cards, a red heart you notice. “you only do that when you're anxious.” lyney says. “come on, tell me what’s wrong, you know that i’m always here for you, right?” he gives you a reassuring smile, a genuine smile that isn’t there to satisfy his guests. 
sometimes you forget how easy it is for lyney to see right through you. you nod as a response to his observation. “yeah, ironic isn't it? i’m nervous even though you’re the one who’ll enter the stage at any given moment now.” you try to sound steady, trying to convince yourself. but your voice betrays you, it quivers.
“aww.” lyney coos at you. “you know i hate that expression on you, do you not?” the ash blond sighs dramatically, purple eyes still maintaining eye contact, a fond shadow casting over his pupils. “how am i supposed to go out and present, knowing that my best friend is dying from nervousness.” he jokes, shaking his head. before he looks up at you once again with a look that says “don’t worry.”
best friend. 
“lyney.“ you try to gather your courage, how does one confess their feelings to the person whom they adore?  lyney smiles at you “yeah? i’m all ears.”
“lyney, you’re probably already aware of my feelings. but i really like you.  i love you. i've loved you ever since we got introduced to one another, ever since we were children.” you don’t dare to look him into his eyes, too embarrassed by your confession just now. you play with the fabric of your freshly ironed shirt a bit, to distract yourself, as you await lyneys reactions.
“archons, since when were you this sentimental?” lyney laughs out. “that’s what you were afraid of telling me?” he takes a few steps so that he stands in front of you now. “gotten all shy now?” the magician teases before patting your head. the action makes you look up, greeted by lyneys smile . “i love you too. youre like another sibling to me.” he slightly tilts his head to the side. "even though we’re not blood related, it just feels like we’re family, don’t you think?”
“no! lyney that's not what i-” you protest but you get cut off by the announcement.
“and now ladies and gentlemen, presenting fontaines renowned duo, mr. lyney and ms. lynette! a big applause please!” 
“ah!” lyney looks behind him where everything was already set up and put in place. “i suppose that is my sign to leave. farewell!” he inches away from you. “let’s reunite after the show, shall we?” he winks at you and bids you goodbye before rushing off to make his way over to the stage.
you remain glued to the floor, frozen in place after you’ve just gotten rejected. you hope this is just another one of lyneys antics, a joke that he will later on reveal as faux and tell you that he reciprocates your feelings. but you know that he won't. yes, perhaps lyney is a liar, a good one at that. he has lied to a dozen people before, but never once to you. 
the rainbow rose in your head shines vividly in the dim lightning, its petals making it glow beautifully. you’re not sure what came over you, frustration, regret, remorse. you’re not certain. the petals that were once finely attached to the pistil, will be gone, you rip the petals off, one by one.
he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not.
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© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.
e/n: "i got sibling-zoned." "that's rough buddy."
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rainystarters · 1 year
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* ☔ : action prompts inspired by FANTASY, NOBILITY, ETC. some prompts are usfw. add reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. ( adjust scenarios or specify details as needed. )
crown of dawn. sender swears their fealty to the receiver.
crown of silver. sender congratulates the receiver on their political engagement, hiding their true affection for the receiver.
crown of midnight. sender dances with the receiver at a masquerade.
crown of glass. sender meets the receiver while their true identity is concealed.
crown of shadows. sender controls the receiver through magic or blackmail, making them their pawn so they can rule from the background.
crown of ink. sender meets the receiver for the first time after they are joined in an arranged marriage.
crown of starlight. sender kneels before the receiver to receive a boon.
crown of rot. sender accuses the receiver of failing their people.
crown of sorrow. sender tells the receiver they are the new lord/queen/etc. as those ahead of them in the line of succession have died.
crown of blood. sender stands before the receiver to be judged for their crimes.
crown of lies. sender accuses the receiver of not being the true heir.
crown of thorns. sender crowns the receiver after killing the previous ruler.
crown of nightshade. sender consumes a poisoned drink meant for the receiver.
---
wand of bone. sender uses necromancy to raise the receiver's companions from to dead to aid the sender in fighting against the receiver.
wand of ivy. sender ensnares the receiver in a net of living vines.
wand of twilight. sender conjures the spirit of the receiver from the land of the dead to speak with them.
wand of clouds. sender infiltrates the receiver's dreams to learn their desires.
wand of portals. sender summons the receiver to their world.
wand of resurrection. sender brings the receiver back to life.
wand of memory. sender clouds the receiver's mind so they don't leave.
wand of blossoms. sender grows flowers in the receiver's hair.
wand of salt. sender heals the receiver's wounds.
wand of leaves. sender asks the receiver to read their fortune.
wand of lightning. sender conjures a storm to impede the receiver.
wand of masks. sender crosses paths with the receiver while disguised as them.
wand of flesh. sender wounds the receiver to fuel their blood magic.
---
sword of honor. sender challenges the receiver to a duel to decide an argument.
sword of moons. sender wakes up to discover the receiver pressing a blade against the sender's throat.
sword of sacrifice. sender takes a deadly attack meant for the receiver.
sword of wrath. sender kills the receiver's loved one(s) as they watch.
sword of loyalty. sender executes someone at the receiver's command.
sword of blessings. sender asks the receiver to bless their weapon before battle.
sword of madness. sender tries to stop the receiver's bloodthirsty rage.
sword of ruin. sender tortures the receiver for information.
sword of defeat. sender surrenders to the receiver after a hard-fought battle.
sword of ash. sender asks the receiver to kill them for failing the receiver.
sword of spite. sender twists their weapon deeper into the receiver's wound.
sword of wind. sender quickly kills an enemy before they attack the receiver.
sword of betrayal. sender stabs the receiver in the back.
---
card of misfortune. sender catches the receiver trying to pick their pocket.
card of coins. sender buys the receiver a drink at a tavern.
card of vipers. sender meets the receiver in a thieves' den.
card of fools. sender finds the receiver caught in a trap, magical or otherwise.
card of iron. sender recognizes the receiver from a wanted poster.
card of vultures. sender is caught looting a dead body by the receiver.
card of songs. sender asks a bard to sing a ballad about the receiver.
card of keys. sender picks a lock to help the receiver escape.
card of winter. sender finds the receiver dying of frostbite and gathers them in their arms to warm them.
card of dust. sender finds the receiver asleep over a book and wakes them.
card of stars. sender keeps the receiver company during first watch at camp.
card of crows. sender warns the receiver they're being followed but that the sender can protect them—for a fee.
card of twine. sender stitches a wound shut for the receiver.
---
heart of virtue. sender presses a kiss to the back of the receiver's hand.
heart of devotion. sender slips their signet ring onto the receiver's finger.
heart of roses. sender gives the receiver a token of their favor before a tourney.
heart of thrones. sender kneels before the receiver to pleasure them.
heart of destiny. sender tells the receiver they are fated or reincarnated lovers.
heart of honey. sender intimately feeds the receiver by hand.
heart of darkness. sender cloaks themselves and the receiver in shadows so they can kiss in public.
heart of stone. sender asks the receiver to be their lover as they can't marry.
heart of gold. sender renounces their title to be with the receiver.
heart of wolves. sender intimately licks blood from the receiver's body.
heart of knives. sender cuts the clothes from the receiver's body, unable to wait.
heart of dusk. sender meets the receiver in secret to be together.
heart of embers. sender initiates intimacy to keep the receiver warm.
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illustratinghan · 6 months
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Daphne ~ Don’t Change 🍃
- a recreation of Alec Lightwood’s flower card -
characters by @cassandraclare 🤍
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fadingdaggerr · 10 months
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would that i
pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader
summary: melissa knew what love should look like, and learned what it shouldn’t be. learning what it actually is takes time | 3.4k
translations: nonna/nonno (grandma/grandpa), t’amu (i love you) | reminder that sicilian is slightly different from italian in dialect
warnings: allusions to cheating (minimal), allusions to unhealthy relationships (minimal), making up my own melissa lore bc i’m so normal about her, kissing/making out
note: a little bit of this was an homage to my grandparents, the people that showed me what love should be. thank u and love u
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When Melissa was in sixth grade, her teacher assigned a two-page essay on what they thought of when they pictured love. The moment Mrs. Erikson said this, Melissa knew she was going to write about her Nonna and Nonno.
Every morning, Nonna made breakfast and coffee, she packed Nonno’s lunch, and always left a note that said T’amu in her flowy cursive. Every evening, Nonno brought in the laundry off the line and folded it while Nonna made dinner. Even when they fought, there was never a loss of their kiss good morning, goodbye, and good night. Only on anniversaries was Nonno allowed in the kitchen, and they’d dance while sauce simmered on the stovetop. Love between them seemed easy and gentle. Melissa spent every Saturday night and Sunday morning across the street at their house, and every time she found something to add to her list of what love looked like and how it should be.
Melissa thought she had found love with Tommy Adkins in eighth grade. She’d even bought a new dress to wear to autumn formal, pink and ruffled and perfect. By the time she was ready to leave, her face almost hurt from the amount of times she redid her makeup so that Tommy would call her beautiful instead of bangin’ for once. That night she watched him dance with Jennifer Milano with a half-baked excuse of him “not wanting to kiss a chick with braces.” Melissa cried for two hours while Nonna told her she was better off, a bowl of pastina pushed her way. She forgot about him by the time Monday rolled around.
High school boyfriends came and went, but in college Melissa fell in love for the first time. A true, deep love with a firefighter-in-training that knew her neighbor. Everytime Joe visited Brian, he stopped across the hall to see Melissa, leaned against the doorway with an easy smile. He was charming, respectful, and funny, everything she had been looking for. Two months after she graduated, he dropped to one knee and she jumped into his arms. They moved from their apartment to a home in south Philly. Melissa worked during the day, and Joe started night shifts at the fire station for the extra pay.
Night shifts began to extend, and Melissa never saw him. He’d eat the plate she’d prepared in the fridge and leave the dirty dish on the counter. Dirt and ash from his boots tracked across her rugs and carpets, scuff marks in her living room. What almost killed her was the dirty cast iron skillet left in the sink. When she brought anything up, he’d deflect and leave. Every now and then, he came home with flowers “just because.” But then flowers began to follow every extra long night, and she could smell the floral perfume that didn’t belong to her and didn’t match the flowers. It took her months to say anything, and all she was met with was eyes that couldn’t look at hers.
Melissa began to think that what her grandparents had could never be hers. A loving life was in the cards, and Joe had only solidified this. She stayed at Barbara’s that night.
A few years later, her perspective was changed when a new fourth grade teacher joined the staff mid-term. Never in her years had she allowed someone in so easily, allowed them to be her friend and not just a coworker. Somehow, in two years, Melissa realized she’d never felt so cared for and loved by anyone.
“Is there a chance I could pour a cup of coffee before you start bursting my ear drums?” Melissa says when Jacob and Janine start babbling behind her about something she didn’t care about at 7:30 on a Friday morning. Ever since she turned onto the street the school is on, a headache had been growing steadily. Staying up late to finish grading was the worst idea she’s had all month. The two teachers cringe slightly, lowering their volume. When the door opened again for you and Barbara to enter chatting with each other, volume lowering at the sight of Melissa sat at the table with fingers pressed to her temples. She hears a bag drop on the table quietly, opening one eye to see you trying to be as quiet as possible as you dig around.
When you finally stop, you pull out a bottle of ibuprofen and pass it to her. She waves it off, muttering a don’t need it. When you don’t reply, she peers up to see you still holding the bottle out with an expectant look on your face. You shake the bottle, “don’t suffer just to look tough.”
“Melissa Ann, take the damn pills,” Barbara orders from her seat, spooning some sugar into her coffee.
“I don’t need ‘em,” she mumbles out again.
You push your hand forward more, “please. If not for yourself, for your students. You’re irritable when you have a headache.” Barbara chuckles and sends a knowing look to Melissa. Janine and Jacob, on the other hand, turn and look at you, fully expecting the red head to make some harsh reply or threat back to you. All she does is puff out a laugh and grab the bottle from your hands. She decided not to remark on the weird looks she was getting from the peanut gallery.
When getting the kids ready for recess, she sees you peering around the corner to the doorway. She holds a finger to ask you to wait, and gets a double thumbs up in return. After zipping many jackets and helping with gloves, she watches the little eagles run outside in the chilly autumn air. As she walks back into her classroom, she sees you sitting in her chair waiting patiently for her. “You know, I don’t let anyone sit in my seat,” she jokes as approaches.
“Good thing I’m not just anyone, now am I?” you joke, standing to meet her.
She fights her smile as she answers quietly, “no, you’re not.” She takes a second to breathe when she sees a grin cross your lips at her comment, “we still on for dinner at mine tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” the grin on your face growing, the giddy feeling in Melissa’s chest with it. You loop your arm with hers and walk towards the lounge.
When Melissa opens the front door, you expect a greeting, but instead you get a groan as she stomps back to the kitchen. Dropping your bag and shrugging off your coat, you walk into the kitchen, placing the box of pastries on the table. Melissa returns to angrily rummaging through the refrigerator, desperately trying to find something. It wasn’t until two hands pulled her back by the shoulders, turning her around. She relaxes into your touch, closing her eyes.
“I’m out of basil,” she says through a sigh.
“Want me to go to the store?” you ask, wanting to remove any stress from her.
“No,” Melissa answers as she opens her eyes, “you just got here, that wouldn’t be fair.”
You laugh, “we could go together. Or we can just be lazy, order a pizza, and not get off the couch.”
“Second one,” she sighs out, pulling away to clean up the dishes she took out. While she’s distracted, you take the time to call in the order, pay, and tip over the phone so that Melissa won’t even have the chance to say herself.
“If there’s pineapple on there, I’m kicking you out,” she yells from the kitchen after she hears you hang up.
“No, veggie. And yes, I asked for no mushrooms. One of these days though, I’ll convert you to being a pineapple woman,” you joke tilting your head back to see her standing behind you, “plus, you wouldn’t dare kick out the person who brought you zeppole.”
She gets closer, leaning over with her hands holding the backrest on either side of your head, “is there chocolate sauce?” The excitement was evident in her tone, bringing butterflies to your stomach. You can’t form words with her standing over you and smiling like that, so you just nod.
Later into the night, the TV played Weeds while you sat in comfortable silence, only breaking it when you both repeated the same joke out loud every now and then. Your legs were thrown over her lap, her fingers playing with the folding fabric of your jeans as she watched the screen. Her subconscious drew her attention toward you, eyes tracing over smile lines and the glowing reflection in your eyes from the TV. She watches you lean forward to grab a zeppole, ready to offer it to her. It’s only then that you catch her stare.
“You okay?” you ask, turning and scooting closer to give her your full attention.
She gives a quick squeeze to your leg, “yeah, hon. I’m better than okay.” She feels even better when you lean into her, placing your head on her shoulder. She drops her head to yours, a deep breath leaving her as she finally relaxes fully for the first time all day.
Some time between then and now, things had changed, Melissa wasn’t exactly sure when. At some point the Friday dinners turned into Saturday plans, then Sunday since the farmer’s market was open, no other reason. Breakfast on those days translated to bringing coffee to each other at work, ignoring the questioning gazes of other staff members as she passed you your coffee, despite having never asked how you took it. What had started with you sleeping on the couch when the night grew later, migrated to the spare bedroom.
On a Sunday night, it changed again. You watched the tail end of an Eagles’ game while sitting in her bed after helping grade book reports. As always, your head rested on her shoulder with her own resting on yours. Anytime something that wasn’t a point being scored happened, she explained it to you, though she knew not a thing she said would help make sense of it. It didn’t matter to you, all you wanted was to hear her voice and have her attention.
“Your bed is comfy,” you mutter when the commercials begin before the last quarter.
A smile crosses her lips, “treated myself to a good mattress when I kicked bozo out. Glad you approve.”
“You deserve nice things,” you say as you settle into her more, and through a yawn add, “the best things.”
That night, you’d both fallen asleep slumped against the headboard, leaning into each other for comfort.
Melissa woke up to a rhythmic thumping under her ear and a hand in her hair gently playing with amber waves. The small smile that came to her lips would have been foreign to her if she wasn’t so comfortable, the content feeling in her chest would be almost alarming. When her eyes cracked open, she recognized her bedroom and sheets. She groaned into the cold morning air, and the hand moved from twirling the ends of her hair to scratching her scalp, making her tuck into the warmth beneath her even more.
“Good morning,” you rasp out, having only been awake a little longer, the only response being another groan. She finally rolls off of you, much to your dismay, and sits up on her elbows, looking at you with sleepy, squinted eyes.
“It’s Monday,” she grumbles.
You chuckle, grabbing her glasses off the nightstand for her, “fine, just morning then.”
Something about this morning felt different to Melissa. You’d never spent the night on a school night, let alone sleep in her bed, but that wasn’t what shook her. It wasn’t you making her coffee, sipping it to make sure it tasted right before handing it to her. It also wasn’t that you turned off her alarm and woke her up yourself without making her ears bleed. She thought it could be that you’d opened the door for her on the way out, or how you offered to drive her to and from work to make up for staying late, but not that either.
Maybe it was how she didn’t want to get out of bed, or how her coffee tasted better than any time she’d made it herself. Or how she hadn’t slept that peacefully in twenty years. It could have been how much she enjoyed being driven to work, and having full control of the songs you listened to on the way there, or the fact that she sped ahead to open a door for you this time. She doesn't have time to dwell on it once she gets to her classroom, a knock on the doorframe comes the second to place her purse on the desk.
“I thought you weren’t in today, I didn’t see your car in the parking lot,” Barbara says as she walks in.
Without looking up from her bag as she pulls out folders, Melissa answers, “I got a ride in.”
“Did you now?” Barbara asks with an amused tone. “And would that someone happen to be the fourth grade teacher that practically lives with you?”
“We don’t live together,” Melissa says incredulously, “we just fell asleep, so we drove in together. It’s not a big deal, it’s not like we’re actually together.”
Barbara can’t hide her laugh, “you fell asleep? Both of you? And where was that?” Melissa only mumbles back, so Barbara presses, “where did you both sleep, Melissa?”
“My bed,” Melissa finally says a little louder, but not much. She wants to send her head through a wall knowing that Barb just figured her out.
“Oh, girl. You are in deep,” Barbara says with a smirk. After she leaves the room, the spiral in Melissa’s head goes faster.
Said spiral carries her through lunch, and only stops when you sit across from her and stare at her for a moment. Her face contorts in a what? look before you reach across the table and brush your fingers through her hair. When you pull back, there’s a purple string from the third graders’ projects between your fingers. Barbara kicks her from under the table, and she kicks back with equal force. They both see you look at them weird, before brushing it off and going back to getting your lunch out. Barbara cocks her head to you, staring at the red head, silently telling her to do something. The look the kindergarten teacher gets back replies not now.
When the end of the day rolls around, Melissa is anxious for your eventual arrival in her doorway, keys swinging around your pointer finger. All she could think about since you parted ways this morning was your hands in her hair and your heartbeat under her ear. She hadn’t felt so content and so at peace in so long, the feeling was so new that it almost scared her. Melissa had to remind herself that this was about you, not anyone else. You’d never hurt, belittled, or offended Melissa, you’d never made it your mission to anger or disregard her, nor had you ever tried putting yourself before her. She knew that feeling this way about you shouldn’t scare her, but it did.
The sound of keys and footsteps in the hallways alerted her to your approaching presence, making Melissa quickly rise to her feet and grab her things, realizing she’d been spaced out since the last student left. As she predicted, you stood there spinning your keys, smile growing when she turned toward you. It drops slightly when you see her smile not reach her eyes. “Ready?” you ask.
“Sure, yeah,” she clears her throat, “let’s go.”
You can tell her mind is running into overdrive as you pull onto her street. When you park in the driveway, you unbuckle to turn in your seat and face her.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
She turns to you with a scrunched face, “what are you, 90?”
You shrug and point to her sleeves, “you’re thinking. You play with the thumb holes when you think.” She’d curse you for noticing if it didn’t make her heart clench. “You don’t have to tell me,” you add, “but I’ll listen, if you want.”
She looks at you for a moment, surrendering with a, “wanna come in?” You only answer by taking your keys out of the transmission, hopping out, and opening the door for her.
The discussion gets put on hold while Melissa heats up leftovers from the night before. She carries both bowls out to the living room where you’re turning on the TV back on for background noise. As Melissa sits down, she faces toward you and you mirror her pose. “Sorry I was acting weird,” she mumbles before taking a bite.
You shake your head, “you’re only allowed to apologize when you’ve done something wrong. Thinking isn’t doing something wrong.” When she doesn’t speak again, you offer up something else, “Ava almost had a heart attack over you this morning.”
She looks at you confused, “were we wearing the same shade of green again?”
“No. She thought you didn’t come to work this morning cause your car wasn’t there, was going off about how she was going to have to sub because there’s still a shortage in the area,” you laugh, “I had to tell her I drove you in, which also ended me in a twenty minute interrogation during my prep period.”
“What sort of interrogation?” she asked, already nervous.
You look down the bowl in your lap as you speak, poking the food around, “the kind where she asks for a detailed account of my whole weekend. Weird amounts of detail too, mealtimes, where I slept, where we went, what shows we watched.”
“What’d you tell her?” Melissa can feel fear creeping into her bones.
“That we went to the farmer’s market, watched sitcoms, and I slept in the guest room,” you answer truthfully, “and what did you say to Barbara?” Her head snaps to you, you lean your head to the side, “she stopped by to ask me about my weekend, she seemed a little too excited to see me if you hadn’t spoken to her first.”
Melissa moves to place her bowl on the coffee table before looking back to you, “she asked why we drove in together. I said we fell asleep, and she asked where we fell asleep. Might’ve told her you slept in my bed.”
“It’s impossible to lie to her,” you say as you copy her move. You’re silent for a moment, then finally ask, “what were you thinking about?”
She takes in a deep breath and exhales to calm her nerves, “this morning. This whole weekend, but mostly this morning.” She glances up, and sees your face had dropped, worry setting in, and she’s quick to revise her statement, “in a good way. This morning, this weekend, they meant a lot to me.”
At her words, your lips stretch into a smile, “it meant a lot to me, too.” She can see you internally question saying the next part, “and you. you mean a lot to me, a crazy amount.”
It’s her turn to smile like an idiot now, a pretty blush covering her cheeks, “you mean a crazy amount to me, too. Being around you it’s... It’s easy. I like being with you.”
“I do, too. Sometimes, when I’m here I almost forget I live somewhere else. The second I step inside and I’m with you, I don’t know, leaving just feels wrong,” you say honestly, eyes flickering over her face as you speak, scanning for a rejection you won’t find.
“Waking up to you was nice,” Melissa mumbles, “you’re a pretty good pillow, if I do say so myself.”
Your airy laugh makes her heart race, it goes even faster when you lean in to reply, “I wouldn’t mind waking up that way again... and again, and again.”
She matches you lean in, smiling, “yeah?” Your noses are almost touching, she can feel your breath just barely touching her face. Her eyes flick to yours and see you looking back, faint lines forming as your lips turned upward as her gaze.
“Being with you makes sense,” you say quietly into the space between you, eyes flicking to her lips then back up.
Her hand moves up to your cheek, warm hands and cool rings holding with gentle affection. Olive eyes look into yours for permission, but your answer is closing the space between you. Her other hand flies to hold your neck, your hands holding her wrists. They slide from her arms to her waist, pulling her closer and crawling beneath her shirt to rest on her skin. She takes the chance to straddle your lap as her tongue slides over your bottom lip, asking for the instantly granted entry. Her lips were soft, savoring the feeling of yours against hers, committing it to memory.
Your arms tighten around her, holding her as if she’s this precious thing, and it makes her only give more into you. Her lips slow, and you can almost feel the love she’s trying to convey in her action. But your lungs can only survive so long, and she pulls her lips away, resting her forehead against yours.
“Stay?” she whispers through her breaths as she recovers.
“Wasn’t planning on leaving,” you mumble back, dazed from her kiss. You duck foreward, hugging her as she still sits in your lap. Her arms circle your shoulders, hearing you mumble into her neck, “I love you.”
She presses a kiss to your head, “I love you.”
Melissa’s heart beat against your ear, calm and steady. The smell of her perfume and honey shampoo flooded your senses, making you nudge into her further. You tilted your head, lips pressing softly to the skin of her neck, moving upwards back to her lips, pressing a long, sound kiss there. You pull away to look at her, smoothing back copper strands.
“Is it too early to go lay in bed for the rest of the night?” you ask quietly.
She huffs a laugh, “I was gonna suggest the same thing.”
By the fifth episode of Weeds, Melissa noticed your breathing even out. She peered down at you where you lay curled into her side with your head on her chest, arm slung over her middle, lips slightly parted. She presses a kiss to your head as she shuts the TV off, and lays there to just bask in you being with her. She’d never felt so adored, so cared for, so at ease. This is was it was supposed to be.
feedback appreciated as always <3
title from would that i by hozier (i’m sure everyone knew that. we’re all gay here)
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cosmerelists · 2 months
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The Great Mistborn Era 1 vs. Stormlight Debate: Whose Planet is More Barren?
As requested by anon. :)
Part 1: Flora & Fauna
Hoid: Welcome, welcome, to the great Scadrial & Roshar debate!
Hoid: Kelsier, would you like to start?
Kelsier: [slaps down picture of mare flower]
Kelsier: THAT.....is what we used to have.
Kelsier: Now all of our plants are a dreary brown, trying to survive in a world blanketed in ash.
Kelsier: We have some horses, some dogs, some cats, but I wouldn't say it's a teeming zoological wonderland.
Kelsier: Because, again, the land is 99% ash. And nothing much can survive.
Hoid: Shallan, your reply?
Shallan: No place with life is barren.
Shallan: But if I WERE going to make this argument, I might point out that what we have.....is crab.
Kelsier: Like....just one big one?
Shallan: Oh, we got crab-dogs. Crab-bugs. Crab-oxen. Crab-people. But they're all essentially Crab.
Shallan: To be fair, we do have a few other types: we have horses too (so that cancels yours out) and pigs.
Shallan: And our plants? Well, they do have color, to be fair, but they are basically all things that have to hide in crevices to survive the giant continent-crossing storm that roams around making a "zoological wonderland" pretty tough for us as well.
Hoid: [carefully considering]
Hoid: As much as I hate to say it, this point goes to Kelsier. I've been to both places. Scadrial is indeed an ash-brown sewer pit.
Kelsier: (Yay?)
Part 2: Food, Leisure, the Arts
Elend: Let me say this first: if you're born a noble, then the situation is not that bad. You have food, you have dancing and music, you have culture.
Elend: But that is not how it is for the majority of the population.
Elend: The majority of the population are skaa, who are enslaved, and who do...not have any of those things in a good way.
Elend: So if we go by the majority--as we should--then yes, our planet is notably barren in its food, its leisure pursuits, and its art.
Kaladin: We do war mostly.
Kaladin: We eat rocks.
Kaladin: It's soulcast rocks, which means it is turned into grain. That tastes bad.
Kaladin: And that's not just darkeyes, who are the oppressed people. The lighteyes live pretty much the same way. Although they do more leisure stuff when they're not at war.
Kaladin: Then there're the parshmen, who locked away their consciousnesses and got enslaved, and who had to relearn things like how to play cards once they were freed. Because their enslaved lives were truly devoid of anything good.
Kaladin: So.
Hoid: Yeah...I'm giving this point to Roshar. It sucks there.
Elend: ...One day, I WILL win a debate.
Part 3: Morality
Ham: Morally barren? Yeah, we got that on Scadrial.
Ham: Turns out our Lord Ruler, who became kind of a god, physically rewired the population so his friends could be nobles and everyone else would be slaves. Like, they became physically different.
Ham: Others he used hemalurgy on so that they became nonhuman--like the kandra and the koloss, who can be taken over and controlled due to their spikes.
Ham: Plus, like, our society just ran on horrible slavery. I don't want to go into it, but it was bad.
Ham: And while I think any ability is morally neutral at the outset, our "murder people to steal their power" ability, hemalurgy, is hard to spin in a good way.
Venli: I see. So humans basically did shitty things to other humans?
Venli: I'm a Listener, aka a native of this planet. Humans came here after destroying their own planet.
Venli: Made my people into rhythmless slaves.
Venli: And we're STILL fighting a literally eternal war where some people on each side can't die, so they just keep coming back more and more insane.
Venli: Also even among themselves? The human system of deciding who's good and who's bad based on eye color of all things? Whack.
Hoid: Wow! You've both made such good arguments about why your societies are morally barren and horrible to live in.
Hoid: I do think Scadrial is worse, though.
Venli: A human would say that.
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Version 5.0 Event Notices Compilation
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"Turbo Twirly!" Event: Progress Through the Archon Quest "Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn" and Invite "Mottled Gold Yet Unsmelted" Kachina (Geo)
〓Event Duration〓
Permanently available after the Version 5.0 update
〓Event Rewards〓
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〓Eligibility〓
Complete the Archon Quest "Bedtime Story"
※ After completing the Archon Quest "A New Star Approaches," you can use the "Quick Start" function on the event page to begin the Archon Quest "Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn" directly.
〓Event Details〓
Progress through the Archon Quest "Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn" to invite "Mottled Gold Yet Unsmelted" Kachina (Geo).
※ You can only invite "Mottled Gold Yet Unsmelted" Kachina (Geo) once while progressing through the Archon Quest "Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn." The event page will close once you have invited the character.
※ Before you invite the character, the event page will be available before the Version 6.0 update. After the Version 6.0 update, the event page will close. Then you will no longer be able to use the "Quick Start" function via the event page, but you can still invite "Mottled Gold Yet Unsmelted" Kachina (Geo) while progressing through the Archon Quest "Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn."
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"Traces of Artistry" Event: Take Part and Obtain the Event-Exclusive Weapon, Ash-Graven Drinking Horn (Catalyst)
〓Event Duration〓
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〓Event Rewards〓
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〓Eligibility〓
Adventure Rank 20 or above
And complete Archon Quest Prologue: Act III "Song of the Dragon and Freedom"
※ Complete Archon Quest Chapter V: Act II "Black Stone Under a White Stone" first to get the best experience from this event.
〓Event Details〓
● During the event, head over to where Children of Echoes, People of the Springs, and Scions of the Canopy reside respectively in search of inspiration and unlock the following gameplay modes: "Flow's True Form," "Blazing Extremes," "Of Aspects Vivid."
● In the "Flow's True Form" gameplay, you must use the skills and special traits of different Saurians to reach the destination within a time limit and collect as many Challenge Coins and Orbs of Inspiration as possible to increase your challenge rating and obtain better rewards.
● In the "Blazing Extremes" gameplay, you must head to multiple arenas one by one to defeat the opponent(s) in a designated area and challenge powerful foes to complete special objectives.
● In the "Of Aspects Vivid" gameplay, complete challenges including taking photos, picking regional specialties, unlocking Statues of The Seven and Viewpoints, etc. to obtain the corresponding rewards. After the event begins, picked regional specialties, unlocked Statues of The Seven and Viewpoints, etc. will all count towards challenge progress.
● Complete the challenges in search of inspiration in different gameplay modes to gain Colorful Contemplations. Reach a certain amount of Colorful Contemplations to obtain Ash-Graven Drinking Horn (Catalyst), Primogems, Crown of Insight, event-exclusive Weapon Refinement Materials, and other rewards.
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"Genius Invokation TCG" The Forge Realm's Temper: Game of Wits
〓Event Duration〓
Available throughout the entirety of Version 5.0
〓Event Rewards〓
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〓Eligibility〓
Adventure Rank 32 or above
Complete Archon Quest Prologue: Act III "Song of the Dragon and Freedom"
And complete the World Quest "Battlefield of Dice, Cats, and Cards"
〓Event Details〓
● After the event starts, Travelers can go to Prince at The Cat's Tail to select stages to challenge.
● This event includes 4 stages and some stages will have special victory and defeat conditions. Each stage also has specific rules related to the victory and defeat conditions.
● Fully utilize the special rules and avoid the conditions for defeat to complete these stage challenges.
● Complete stage challenges to obtain the corresponding rewards.
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justmystyles · 1 year
Text
Now You're In My Life - Part 6
catch up here
pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader
word count: 4k
summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down.
warnings: some curse words, but other than that it's tame.
a/n: i feel like this part was way better in my head, so sorry in advance if you hate it.
*i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.
tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @cute-as-ducks420 @gem1712 @golden-hoax @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @n0vaj3an @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat
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After Harry left you sat in your room and cried, you were barely able to get yourself packed and ready to make it to the station in time for your train home. You had forced yourself into the shower, but skipped putting on any makeup, it was just going to run anyway. About twenty minutes into the trip home, you had mercifully fallen asleep and stayed that way until you arrived back in Boston. You had promised Harry that you’d let him know when you got home, so you shot him a quick text, and the reply was almost instant. As if he were staring at his phone, waiting to hear from you. 
Good. Go get some rest my beautiful punk rock princess. Some awful boy kept you up way too late last night. ;)
You were grateful that you had opted for an early train. It gave you a chance to get home and try to resume your normal schedule, and some extra time to purge your emotions so that you could start fresh the next day. Back to work, back to reality. 
The next afternoon, you were in your office, finally caught up on the previous day’s work when one of your coworkers dropped an elaborate floral arrangement at your desk. You didn’t have to open the note to know where it came from. You suppose this is the bookend to your time together. He sent you flowers when you met, and he’s sending you flowers to say goodbye. As curious as you are to read the note, you decide to wait until you get home not wanting to cause a scene in your office. 
When you got home you went straight to the kitchen, placing the flowers down on the counter and pulling out the card. You take a deep breath and remove it from the envelope. 
I tried to think of something funny and charming to say, but truthfully I just missed you and wanted you to know I was thinking of you.
-H
You read the note over and over, until the tears that filled your eyes blurred your vision. He missed you? He was thinking about you? You were more confused than ever. Sure, Harry had told you that you weren’t getting rid of him just because he was on tour. You just assumed he was saying that to get you to stop crying, that the messages and calls would dwindle over time. This seemed like more, that maybe all of the promises of calls and visits were real. 
Maybe he did feel something for you. 
You were interrupted by the ring of your phone, you pulled it from your pocket and saw Harry’s name on the screen. He was FaceTiming you. You took a deep breath and set it to the back camera which would allow you a moment to collect yourself. 
You watched as his beautiful face filled your screen, his smile quickly dropped to a frustrated frown. “Damnit, they still didn’t get it right.” You chuckle tearfully. “I’m just going to have to keep sending you flowers until we find some that are as beautiful as you.” 
“Harry…” you playfully chided. 
“Alright princess, let’s see you. The flowers are lovely, but I called for you.” 
You flip the camera and you notice his face fall slightly. “Darling, have you been crying?” 
“Maybe a little,” you reply coyly. “It was just a long day. It’s amazing how far behind I can fall after just one day off. Plus I’m still pretty tired from the trip.” 
“I’m sorry, do you want me to let you go so you can relax?” 
“No no, I’m glad you called. What are you up to?” You change the subject, not wanting him to press. 
“Well, we just landed in Wisconsin.” He attempts a midwestern accent, causing a bark of laughter to fall out of you unexpectedly. 
“That was terrible. Thank god you can sing, because you’re not an impressions guy.” 
“Heeeeyyyy!” He replied defensively. 
You and Harry talked for well over an hour, there were a few times where you considered asking him for clarification on your relationship, but talking to him felt so good, so right that you didn’t want to risk it. 
That was how most of your conversations with Harry went while he was away. There were many times where you thought it would just be easier to ask, but you kept reminding yourself about your weekend in New York. The last time you were upset, he had been up all night worrying about you. You decided that it wasn’t something you wanted to bother him with while he was on tour. In a few weeks he’d have some time off. You would talk to him then, when it couldn’t impact his work. 
One of the things Harry had brought up to you was how you had apparently become a viral sensation amongst his fanbase for your Harryween costume. Pictures and videos of you were all over social media. And when the photos of you and Harry in Central Park started circulating on the gossip blogs, it wasn’t long before the fans put two and two together. All of the sudden, you were Harry’s new mystery girl. 
Harry apologized profusely for the attention that had suddenly been thrown your way. You didn’t mind though, your friends and family weren’t really the celebrity gossip type. However, a few of your friends did see the pictures, you got some teasing texts, but nothing you hadn’t gotten before. Besides, it wasn’t as though strangers were recognizing you in the street, so life continued to go on as normal. The only change was setting your social media profiles to private, which you were especially grateful for once Harry started following you. 
A few days before the end of Harry’s tour, the two of you were on one of your marathon FaceTime calls, and Harry asked you something you weren’t expecting. 
“You said you still have some vacation days left, right?”
“Yeah, I didn’t really use any, so I was just going to do short weeks for the rest of the year.” You shrug. “It’s use it or lose it.” 
“So why don’t you use some of it next week and hang out with me?” You arched a brow, urging him to continue. “My last show is on Saturday, then I have to be in New York for a few meetings, but after that I thought I could come visit you before I go home for the holidays.”
“You… want to come… here?” 
“Is that alright?” He asked tentatively. “I just… I mean, you came to spend time with me on tour, you got to be part of my life, I wanted to maybe be part of yours for a bit.” 
Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the tears begin to pool in your eyes. He wanted to spend time with you. In your world. You simply nodded your head, unable to speak. 
“Yeah? Wonderful!” He grinned. “I’m going to find the closest hotel so I don’t waste any–”
“You uh…” you interrupted him. “You could stay with me. I mean if you wanted to.” 
His smile widened, and you noticed a twinkle in his eye. “I was hoping you’d say that.” You blushed, making him laugh. “Are you sure you don’t have plans? I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“No, I have a family dinner next Saturday, but other than that I’m free.” 
“Family dinner, huh? What’s the occasion?”
You bit your lip before answering. “It’s um… it’s a birthday dinner.” You say shyly.
Harry’s eyes narrow at you. “Who’s birthday, princess?” Your face had already given him the answer, but he needed to hear you say it. 
Your eyes flit to the floor, you look up at the camera through your lashes. “Uhh… mine?” 
“Y/N Y/L/N!” Harry scolded. “Your birthday is in a week and you didn’t bother to tell me?!” 
“You never asked,” you shrug. 
He shook his head with a chuckle, you had a point. “Well then I am definitely coming, and I am going to spoil you rotten.” 
“Harry you don’t have–”
“The hell I don’t,” he said firmly. “When’s your actual birthday, sweetheart?” 
“Friday,” you tell him. You aren’t a big fan of being the center of attention, so you never really made a big deal about your birthdays. A quiet dinner with your parents and your sister was all you needed. 
“Perfect, I can fly on Thursday night, then I’ll be with you for your whole birthday. And I’d like to join you at your dinner, if you wouldn’t mind having me there.” 
He wanted to meet your parents? Nothing about the last month has made any sense, but you were bound to clear things up when Harry came to visit. “I’d like that,” you smile at him. “Oh, you should probably fly into Manchester instead of Boston though.” You notice Harry’s expression change, and you pause, knowing he wants to say something. “What?” 
“Why would I go all the way to Manchester? I told you I was going to visit you before going home.” 
You sigh and roll your eyes. “New Hampshire, you weirdo.” 
Harry holds up his free hand defensively. “It’s not my fault your precious colonizers couldn’t come up with their own names, so they just reused the ones they were so desperate to get away from.”
“Are you seriously doing this right now? You’re getting snippy about history shit?” He smirks at your annoyed response. “Yeah, keep smiling. When you get here I’m going to throw you in the harbor so you can go find your damn tea.” He throws his head back in laughter at your response, you can’t help but laugh too. Joking with each other like this came so naturally to you. 
“As I was saying,” you pretend to scold him. “It’s the same distance, shorter if you consider traffic, and it’s way less crowded so you could probably get through without being too noticed.” You watch as a dreamy smile spreads across his face. “What now?” You say, expecting another snarky response. 
“Nothing,” he sighed. “You’re such a sweetheart, thinking of me like that.” 
You felt your heartbeat speed up at his sincerity. “It was mostly for me,” you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I hate Boston traffic.”
In the days leading up to Harry’s visit, you spent every free moment cleaning and arranging and rearranging furniture. To say you were nervous was an understatement. Sure, you were happy to see him again. You couldn’t wait to see him again. But this visit was going to be make or break. You were determined to get to the bottom of your relationship, it was a conversation the two of you needed to have while he was here. But you were going to wait until after your birthday, just because you didn’t want the day to be a big deal didn’t mean you wanted to spend it heartbroken. 
You had told your parents that you were bringing a guest to dinner. You didn’t say much else, but based on their reaction, you were sure they assumed you were bringing home a guy. You usually kept your relationships to yourself, only ever bringing one other guy home, so to them this was a big deal.
It was ten thirty on Thursday night, you were standing by your car in the arrivals lot waiting for Harry. He had been doing some work in the studio that day, so he decided to take a later flight. As your eyes stayed trained on the door, you pulled your coat tighter around you, trying to stay warm. Before long, you saw Harry emerge from the airport, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. He was here, in front of you, not just on a screen. 
You watched his eyes dart around the parking area, his face deep in concentration as he looked for you, rolling his suitcase behind him, a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder. You could tell the moment he found you, because the crease in his brow disappeared, his smile widened and his pace began to pick up. When he finally reached you, he dropped his bags and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and crashing his lips against yours.   
He placed you back down, pulling you into another kiss before holding you close and burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, I missed you so much princess.” His voice was muffled against your skin as he continued to place kisses along your neck. 
You let out a content sigh as your fingers played with the curls at the nape of his neck. “I missed you too.” 
After standing in each other’s arms for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of having each other so close again, Harry finally pulled away and put his bags in the back of your car. He moved to the passenger's side and opened the door. You stood there, watching him stand in front of the door, making no moves to actually enter the car. 
“You getting in?” You asked curiously. 
“I will, I was just opening your door for you.” He replied. 
“We’re still in America, babe. Driver sits over there.” You use your thumb to point to the other side of the car.
His dimples appeared as he shook his head. “I’m driving.” 
“Excuse me?”
“I want to play a game on the way home, you won’t be able to play and keep your eyes on the road, so I’m going to drive.” 
You didn’t miss the fact that he said ‘home’, he didn’t refer to it as your house, he called it home. But you were also suspicious of this game. “I’m not giving you road head.” Your gaze narrowed. 
You noticed his eyes darken briefly before he corrected his expression and laughed. “No no, nothing like that. Completely innocent, I promise.” 
You eye him suspiciously as you approach the car. As you slide into the passenger's seat, you hand him the keys. “Just remember, we drive on the right here.” 
He rolls his eyes, closing your door and moving to the driver’s side. Once he was settled in, he started the car, and began to explain the game. 
“So, even after all of this time talking and sharing intimate details of our lives, you’ve still been very evasive about all that guilty pleasure music you’re hiding.” He smirks when you blush and sink a little further into your seat. “And I’ve also noticed you have an almost compulsive need to explain yourself and your opinions on things. Which you never have to do with me, by the way.” He paused, giving you a moment to process and truly understand his statement. “I figured we could use those two things to play a game, and get you to let me in just the tiniest bit more.” 
You furrow your brow. “I don’t get it?”
“It’s quite simple my dear, I will give you an emotion, or a scenario of some sort, and you play the song that goes with it. This way, you’re explaining why you like the song, instead of just being embarrassed that you do.” 
You smile to yourself, he was so desperate to get to know you that he made up a whole game just to help you open up. God, you were glad he was here. “Okay, I can do that.” 
“Yeah?” You nod in agreement. “Excellent! But you have to be completely honest, the first song that comes to mind no matter how embarrassing you think it might be.” 
“Deal.” 
He smiles widely and pulls you in to seal the deal with a kiss. “Alright then, buckle up buttercup. We’re off.” 
As Harry rattled off different topics, you could tell that he had prepared thoroughly for this. Each would have a series of follow up questions that he would ask as the song played, and occasionally he would sing a bit of it for her, his hand firmly planted on her thigh for the entirety of the ride. 
Harry would occasionally glance over to you as you were listening to a song. Of course he was admiring your beauty, but more than that, he noticed you had a musicality about you that he hadn’t seen much of outside of work. You would move your hands, almost as if you were conducting the music, honing in on obscure background melodies, and play them out with your fingers. 
You had been at a redlight, but when it turned green, Harry didn’t move. You looked over to see him watching you completely mesmerized. When he realized he had been caught, he blushed before turning his attention back to the road. “What?” You ask with a chuckle. 
“Aside from the fact that you are stunning and I never want to stop looking at you?” He smirked and shot a quick glance your way just in time to catch your blush. “Aside from that, I just noticed how you listen to music. It’s almost analytical, like you’re picking out each part, like even the smaller parts that people barely notice.”
“Yeah, I’ve kind of always been like that,” you shrug. “Obviously in college it kind of got worse, but–”
“Obviously in college?” Harry questioned.
You slap your hand over your mouth, you were so comfortable with Harry that things were just rolling off your tongue without realizing it. “Yeah… I um, my major was audio production. So I did a lot of recording and mixing and stuff.” 
You felt Harry’s grip tighten on your thigh. “Princess, I’ve known you for over a month, how have you not told me this?”  
“It’s not a big deal, it’s not like I’m using it or anything. I didn’t want you to think I was hanging out with you with ulterior motives.” 
Harry pulled the car into a nearby parking lot so that he could focus all of his attention on you. “Do you really believe that I would think that you were spending all this time with me, that all of this was just because you were trying to make a connection in the music industry?”
You shrug, looking down at the floor. You weren’t sure if you were more embarrassed about keeping it from him, or for your reason for keeping it from him. 
He took your chin in his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. “Hey, listen to me,” his tone was commanding yet tender, and he had a look of adoration in his eyes. “I’ve told you before, I want to know everything about you. Whether you believe it or not, I know your heart, and I know that you would never ask anything like that of me. Okay?” You nod your head in affirmation. “I want to hear you say it, princess.” 
“Okay,”  you whisper. He smiles, pulling your lips to his. 
He turns back to the wheel and continues the journey to your house. 
“So this is my princess’s palace?” Harry says as he pulls into the driveway. When he sees you reach for the door handle, he places a hand on your shoulder. “Uh-uh, don’t you dare open that door,” he chided. 
“Awfully aggressive for a gentleman.” You joked. 
He leaned in, his voice low and gravely in your ear. “You haven’t seen anything yet, princess.” A chill shot down your spine at his words. 
After he opened your door and collected his bags, the two of you went into the house and you gave him a quick tour of your house. It was a small three bedroom cape, with the master bedroom on the first floor. Since you lived on your own, you had turned the two upstairs rooms into a makeshift gym, and a combination home office/nail salon. 
By the time you had gotten home and given Harry the full tour, it was nearly midnight and you were both pretty tired. You took your pajamas into the bathroom so you could change and do your night routine, leaving Harry to change in the bedroom. 
When you returned to your room, you tapped on the door to make sure Harry was decent. He called for you to enter, when you did, you saw Harry sitting up in your bed. His eyes went wide as they traveled up and down your body, you were wearing an oversized t-shirt that was so long it completely covered the shorts you have on.
Harry gulped audibly before opening his mouth. “Princess, you… uh, you forgot the bottoms.” 
You were typically pretty self conscious about your body, but the way Harry was looking at you, practically devouring you with his eyes, it gave you a boost of confidence like you’d never had before. 
“Nope, I’ve got my shorts.” You lifted the shirt to your waist. 
Harry tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, folding down the sheets on your side of the bed, and patting the mattress. As you moved closer to the bed, you swayed your hips a little more than you usually would, you watched as Harry kept his eyes locked on you. 
As soon as you pulled the covers over yourself, Harry’s arms were around you, pulling you towards him. His lips traveled from your neck, up and across your jaw. Just before he could pull you in for a kiss, your phone rang. 
“Ugh… sorry,” you groaned as you reached for your phone. “It’s my sister.” 
As you swiped your finger across the screen, Harry noticed the time and leaned in close. “Happy birthday, princess.” He whispered before taking your earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently, causing you to giggle softly. 
“Hello?” Your sister’s voice rang out from the other end of the phone. 
You and Harry looked at eachother, trying not to laugh. You held your index finger up to his mouth to silence him. Instead of taking you seriously, he runs his tongue along your finger before pulling it into his mouth. You pull it out quickly and shoot him a warning glance. 
“Hi, sorry. I’m here. Hi.” You finally respond to your sister as you try to break out of Harry’s grasp. 
“I wanted to be the first one to say happy birthday, but apparently I didn’t make it in time.” 
“Better luck next year,” Harry joked. You slapped him playfully on the chest. 
“Who are you with?” 
“Don’t worry about it,” you assure her. 
“Oh wait, is this the guy mom and dad keep talking about? The one you’re bringing to dinner.” 
Your cheeks turn bright red at your sister’s words. Harry chuckles and pinches your cheeks. 
“Okay, so thanks for calling. I’ll see you Saturday.” You speak into the phone. 
“See you Saturday,” she says. “Sorry about the cock block.” 
Harry bursts out laughing, while you hang up the phone and drop it back down on the nightstand. You slide deeper into the bed, pulling the blankets over your head. 
“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Harry chuckles as he follows you under the blankets. “Your sister seems nice.” He says as he starts kissing your neck, adding some gentle bites as he goes. 
“Yeah, she’s a real…” you interrupt yourself with a yawn. “Sorry.” 
Harry pulls back, leaning on his arm so he’s facing you. “Tired?” 
“A little, I’m fine though.” You assure him as you lift your hand, placing it on his cheek. 
He tilts his head, kissing your palm, “It’s alright, get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere, we can continue this later.” He leaned down until his lips were a breath away from yours. “Happy birthday, beautiful.” He kissed you softly before laying back on the bed. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you close.
“This is nice,” you sigh against his chest.
His arms tighten around you, and he places a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s really nice.” 
Before you know it, you drift off into one of the most comfortable nights of sleep you’ve ever had. 
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