#I also really wish he had green eyes instead of blue but I understand that canon is canon…

[letthesunshinein]

I love Adam Parrish in almost every form but I can’t stand classically handsome blond angelic curly haired Adam?? Like Adam is beautiful and uncanny and delicate and has high cheekbones but also dusty and a little weird looking? Like yes, he is blondish but dusty! dirty! There’s no way this boy can afford a good haircut or product!! I can deal with some wave or even some curls if it’s messy. And yes he would want to look Presentable at all costs when he’s at school but there is only so much one can do when you get four hours of sleep and cut your hair yourself? And yes he is strong from boyds and from being a teenage dude but also this child is malnourished!

So anyways the football bro bone structure and build with the square jaw and the blessed angel golden blond curls need to stop…

[max-nicoxfandom]

Happy WIP Wednesday ! Here is a first draft/snippet of a random chapter in my long fic I'm working on (don't go looking for it, still unsure if I'm going to post it), bc I think I'm gonna take this part out even if I really like the concept.

Danny is like 6-7yrs old in this

Danny is a weird kid.

That's not to say Dick expected him to be normal when his family took him in. No, even if Danny wasn't still half dead, no one in this family is normal. Not even Duke and Barbara, the self proclaimed normies of the family.

Danny has brought a certain life to the manor, even in death, that has Dick contemplating moving back. Somehow, even Jason has been spending more time than usual there. Arguments have been lessened, the manor has been less creaky and more settled, Alfred even looks a little younger these days.

It's both the fault of Danny's sweet exterior, and the odd green that swirls in the blue of his eyes. Not the same hue as Jason's, but something near to it.

He's a lot like Jason, actually. Dick is sure if Jason had come to them just a little bit younger he'd be the spitting image of Danny.

It's the little things that make them look so similar. Almost everyone in the manor has the blue-green eye, black hair combo. It's everything else in Danny that makes him look exactly like Jason.

Danny likes to wish the moon good morning when he sees it during the day, and insists on opening his curtains when he goes to sleep so the moon can listen to his bedtime story too. He likes to check his stuffed animals for injuries when they fall off furniture. He thanks Alfred for his food, and thanks his food for being yummy. When he leaves the manor, he blows the building a kiss goodbye.

Dick does not tell Bruce that the house pulls itself from the ground, and creaks back.

Sure, Jason wasn't dead (not yet, anyway), but he was so excited to be alive. He had that same disposition to do good to everyone and everything that Danny does. Jason may not be some sort of partial human like Danny, but Jason was Robin, and Robin? Robin is magic.

You don't have to believe in ghosts for them to be real, and you don't have to see Danny for him to exist. On the same wavelength, you don't have to see Robin to know Jason made him magic. It was just the truth. Like how the sky is blue and Bruce is Batman.

Dick is watching his life be changed one step at a time, just like it was with Jason–like how it was supposed to be with Jason–and like it was with his siblings.

He keeps flowers in his car now. He didn't before, he never had a reason for it.

But one time, Danny cried as they passed a graveyard. He was sitting curled up against the window in the back while Dick hummed along to some ballad on the radio. It was peaceful, as things tend to be when Danny's around, and even as the kid cried Dick never stopped feeling tranquil. He knew everything would be okay, Dick would stop at nothing to make his new brother happy again.

“I have no flowers.” He’d said. Dick hadn't even gotten the chance to ask what was wrong. “They'll all be so sad I came by, and I had no flowers.”

Danny's eyes were green when he'd spoken. Green, teary, and filled with more mourning a child should ever understand. Dick's heart broke about a thousand times over.

So now Dick keeps flowers in his car. Whenever he drives past a graveyard he throws a flower out the window, just like Danny does. And if the bouquet dies before he gets to give them away, he gives them to Danny, and he buries them in the backyard.

Green eyed and sad. Sometimes Jason joins him, sometimes Damian does. Dick never feels like it's his place.

This fic also has to do with the cult thing I was talking about sometime ago, and the post about big cities. I kinda regret having this take place in Gotham instead of Amity, but it's too late now (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Asks and interactions are always welcome !

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter One - The Blue Crayon 

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SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Reader cries, first meeting jitters, brief talks of Bucky’s ‘old life’, mainly fluff 

Word Count - 1,836

Note - Releasing this is really scary, and nerve wracking. I'm worried people will hate my new writing style, or won't enjoy the slight changes to the plot/pace/overall creation. Please know that this means a lot to me, and has really given me back a piece of me I thought I lost. Enjoy, and I hope you love this as much as I do <3

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★ Prologue ★ 

After years of feeling out of place no matter where he went, and feeling like he didn’t belong no matter what he did to fit in, Bucky took a trip to a Cafe he remembered from his old days in Brooklyn. 

The interior looked the same as it had decades ago, the soft blue and green diner furniture was in pristine shape. The metal of the counter looked slightly more scratched and worn, but the whole place had the same feel it did when he first walked in years ago. 

While most cafes offered the same types of coffee and treats, none of them were anything like Cafe BigNSmall. Instead of being on a busy street open to just anyone, it was hidden away from prying eyes on a calm street, and was catered towards Littles and Caregivers. 

It was founded before Bucky was even born, a group of people looking for a place to meet up comfortably, but also create a safe space for other Littles and Caregivers that might also be in need of a community. 

Bucky had stumbled his way into a conversation years ago about Littles and Caregivers, at first he didn’t understand what the conversation was about, but after asking a few questions and being given the address to the hardly known, yet also famous, cafe his whole idea around the topic changed. And after a few visits with his best friend by his side the two of them realised that the community they had accidentally found was one they fit perfectly into. 

Bucky half expected the well hidden cafe to be gone, or at least moved to a different location after all these years, but as he walked along the familiar sidewalk and stopped in front of the building he used to visit weekly, a warm feeling spread along his chest. The feeling of finally finding someplace he knew, and some place that knew him, was the best feeling he had felt in a while. 

Even the ding of the welcome bell was the same, the coffee just as good as he remembered it, and the crunch of the leather covered diner booth sounded just as he had remembered it. 

The feeling of sitting at a table alone though was new, his days spent here were always spent with Steve and other people they had met along the way. But now he sat in his favourite booth with a bag full of activities, and a heart in need of a purpose. He realised that even though the building had stayed the same, he hadn’t. 

Weeks went by as he watched groups of Littles and Caregivers sit around tables and talk, colour, and laugh. He understood why people avoided him, if they knew who he was they had reason to walk away, and even if they didn’t know him as ‘The Winter Soldier” he was still dressed head to toe in black, stood at times a foot above everyone else, and always had an easily read as angry expression plastered on his face. 

It had been a month before anyone talked to him, and although he wished that he could have felt included sooner, he was happy that Y/n was the first person he met, even if it took weeks of waiting. 

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The sun was shining brightly through the wall of windows, Bucky’s booth drowning in light, the small plant that sat with a basket full of sugar and cream was no doubt enjoying the nice weather. 

Bucky’s coat sat next to him, his phone buzzing from time to time though he ignored it. Instead of calling Steve back, or making sure Sam didn’t need something he surveyed the room, making sure all exits were secure, and danger wasn’t present. 

He, in a way, had given up the idea that he would meet a Little, or even a friend, but decided that in the absence of someone he would spend his time as - unwanted, and unneeded, as well as unofficial - security for those who spent their days here with friends. 

As his eyes drifted to make sure his car parked on a side street was still in tack he heard a small shuffle next to him, then a small voice spoke. “Um, Mr?” He turned his head to see a girl with tear marks down her face staring at him. Her green shirt’s sleeves covered in wiped tears, her overalls slightly off her one shoulder. 

Bucky just stared at her for a second, waiting for her to fizzle away and reveal herself as a dream, or run in fear when she saw his face, but she didn’t. “Hi.” He cleared his throat, trying his best to put on a neutral tone and facial expression. “What’s wrong?” He asked, shuffling in his seat slightly, his nerves evident. 

“My, um.” Her left hand covered in her sleeve came back up to her face, rubbing her eye before she continued. “My crayon broke.” The girls lower lip wobbled now, bringing up what must have happened clearly causing her distress. “The nice cash lady said you, you migh’ have some crayons?” Her voiced lowered to a whisper now. 

Bucky smiled, the warmth he felt when he first stepped inside a month ago finally coming back. His backpack was filled with Little friendly activities and supplies for this reason exactly. “I do.” He answered, unzipping his backpack and pulling out his carton of 96 crayons. “What colour do you need, Bub?” The nickname slipped out on accident, but the girl in front of him didn’t seem to notice, too awe struck by the box of crayons in front of him. 

She sniffled before answering. “I need blue.” She said with a little more confidence. “Hold on.” She whispered, jogging back to what Bucky assumed was her table. “This one, please.” She pulled out two halves of a blue crayon from her box. Her crayon box was smaller than Bucky’s, only a handful of crayons inside, unlike his though her’s had a small sticker on it that read “Y/n.” 

“Y/n?” He asked, the girl snapping her head to him, her eyes wide. Bucky tapped the sticker on her box, Y/n flipping it over and realising how he now knew her name. “There’s too many blue crayons in this box to know what one you want.” He said, hoping it didn’t come off mean or like he was showing off his ‘better’ supplies. “Why don’t you take the box back to your table and use any of the crayons I have for the day.” He offers, hoping that his generosity could help earn Y/n’s trust over time. 

“Can I jus’ sit here?” Y/n asked, her hands fiddling with the box in her hands. 

“You want to sit here?” Bucky parrots her words back to her, hardly believing that she would want to sit with him. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay.” Her lower lip began to wobble again as she took a step back. “Unless, I’m sorry, I can go.” She said quickly, clearly taking Bucky’s surprise as anger. 

“You can sit here.” Bucky’s words were also spoken quickly, worried if he didn’t say anything right away she would run from him. “No one’s wanted to sit with me yet, I’m just surprised.” Y/n nodded her head and put her small box down on the table before walking back to hers. 

In a minute she had gathered all her things and made her way back to Bucky, her backpack now sitting on the other seat. “You sure that I can sit here?” Bucky noticed her slight change in speech, a clear sign of further regression. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” He smiled, Y/n sitting down but still holding her colouring book to her chest, her back straight as a pin. “I’m glad you came over.” He says in hopes to reassure her he wants her here. “It’s nice to have a friend.” Y/n smiles at that, placing her book down, showing a half done colouring page. 

“I agree, bein’ lonely is sad.” She frowns. “Do you wanna colour with me?” Her tone is hopeful, looking at Bucky with a smile. 

“I’d love to.” He smiled back, pushing his coffee to the side and accepting the page Y/n tore out for him. The two of them colouring their respective pages in silence for an hour before Y/n sat up straight with the biggest smile Bucky had seen so far. 

“Done!” She practically yelled. Bucky had been done for a while now, adding his own doodles around the actual lines of the drawing. “Look.” She slides the book towards him, a coloured picture of a princess and her wildlife friends surrounding her staring back up at him. 

“This is really good, Bub.” Bucky coos, surprised at her ability to stay mainly in the lines of the original lines. 

“You can keep it.” She quickly squiggles something on the bottom, Bucky assuming it’s her form of a signature. 

“Thank y-” His words are cut off by the shrill of an alarm, Y/n digging her phone out of her backpack to turn it off, frowning as she places the phone on the table. 

“I have to go home now.” She frowns as she starts to pack up her bag, pausing to turn to Bucky. “Will you, can you.” She stumbles over her words. “Are you coming here tomorrow?” She eventually asks, her eyes avoiding Bucky’s. 

“Are you?” He counter asks. 

“Yes.” 

“Then I’ll be here tomorrow.” She smiles and finally looks at him. 

Y/n spends a few more minutes packing up her things before she stands. “Thank you Mr.” She holds her hand out for a handshake, Bucky’s back straightening as he realises he’ll have to shake her hand with his left. Instead of doing so he grabs her left hand with his right and shakes that one, her giggles worth the awkward situation. “Bye Mr.” She says, turning to leave, but Bucky keeps a hold of her hand. 

“Why don’t you keep these?” He says, pushing the box of crayons closer to her near the edge of the table. 

“Borrow them?” She asks. 

“No, I want you to keep them.” He nudges them her way a little more. “I think you’ll get much more use out of them than I ever would.” He smiles as he watches her’s grow bigger. Picking them up she does a little jump, her backpack jingling as she does. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She spins before whispering a ‘thank you’. 

Before Bucky could say goodbye, or ask for her phone number, she had already walked out of the building, walking down the sidewalk looking at the box of crayons in awe. The broken blue crayon still sat on the table, he smiled, picking it up and placing it in his pocket. The small thing a reminder of the best day he’s had in a long time. 

[sillyromance]

Can you make comfort vore? From Optimus?

Hello, dear evelyntyecrqzy!

Sure! Here you go!

P.S: there is angst and one heavy word in this work. Also I've written it from the first person's perspective... I really hope you don't mind it.

Have a good day and take care!

***

- How do you feel, little one?

It was late evening; almost all the lights were gone, the only bright area was Ratchet’s lab: the old medic was staring at the big green screen, typing aggressively on the panel and mumbling something inaudible. He was too busy to pay attention to anything else. The rest of the team left to their quarters after they had brought the kids home. No body had shown any signs of life since then.

I was lying on the couch, curled up in a tight ball. My head felt heavy and hurt; I felt cold and lonely. It was hard to hold back sobbing, but I didn't want to attract unnecessary attention - nobody cared anyways. Why would they? Were my problems that important?

I squeezed my eyes shut, tears running down my cheeks violently as my shoulders started shuddering...

And then I heard his deep, gentle voice.

"How do you feel, little one?" - I turned my red face to the huge mech behind me. Optimus Prime, my guardian. Through the cacophony of my thoughts I hadn't heard him coming. His blue optics far above glowed with concern.

I hurried to wipe the tear tracks from my face and stand up, mumbling something like: "Sorry" or "It's fine, don't bother yourself..." But as far as I did this, his large servo wrapped around me and very soon I found myself sitting on his plain rough palm, being swirled with his kind, sad gaze. I felt nothing but guilt, though the only reason for it was my depressing mood. I couldn't look straight at him, turning away over and over, rubbing my hot cheeks in attempt to get rid of the tears. I hated myself for the mess I had become – I waited for him to throw me away as far as he would get a good look at my ugliness. However, Optimus didn't seem disgusted with me at all.

- Did someone offend you? - The mech asked again with the same sincere tenderness in his tone.

I shook my head negatively.

- Is it something in your body?

I closed my face with both hands and shook the head even more violently, crooking.

- No...

- And what’s about your soul?..

I sniffed silently; choking sensation dug its claws into my throat as it let out a pathetic "Mm-gm..." and I nodded. Everything in me just fell somewhere down; I felt my poor heart beating hysterically in the stomach. There was a crazy mix of panicking fear and complete indifference. I was trembling, wishing to be left alone. But even more, I wanted to be comforted. I wanted someone to embrace me and whisper soothing words, to say that it was going to be OK, to stroke my hair as if I was just a kid. But wasn't it too much to ask? I didn't dare to believe Optimus would bother himself to spend time with such a puny, pathetic creature.

After this cut through my head, I couldn't keep myself from crying anymore – I literally burst out.

- Hey, look at me, Y/N.

Hesitantly, I obliged. I was ready to see disappointment or distaste, but instead...

- There is nothing to be embarrassed with. Do you want to talk about it?

I wasn't sure if I heard him right. Did he really... worry about me? Of course, as my guardian, he should have, regardless... Wasn't I dreaming?

- W-what d-do you m-mean? – I replied indecisively.

- I thought, perhaps you could share your pain with someone. Sometimes it helps. - A small, understanding smile appeared on his faceplate. - I'm sorry... It hurts my spark to see such precious little thing crying.

I lost my ability to speak for some seconds.

- Does it r-really? W-why?

Prime's eyebrows lifted up in surprise.

- Because you matter. You're my friend, Y/N. Friends help each other, don't they?

His gravely voice had already had its way with me. My shudders calmed down and though my eyes were still wet, I couldn't help but smiled back at him.

- Thank you... for this... But I don't want to talk right now...

- It's absolutely fine...

- ... I'm very, very tired, though. - At the moment I said that, my spine weakened and I collapsed at the flat, warm surface of Optimus' hand.

Something childish, basic, something from the abyss of my wild, subconscious core suddenly arose inside me and escaped my chest with barely audible plead.

- Please... Don't leave me here...

A quiet sigh rambled beside me; my entire figure was washed with warm air of his exhale.

- Don't worry, Y/N. I won't.

His digits closed over my tiny form. I wasn't able to see a thing anymore, but I could say for sure that we moved away from the place.

Quite soon the sounds of Ratchet's work faded away. Optimus opened one of the many electric doors and walked into a somewhat room - I heard a soft "whoosh" as the panel shifted back to its place. My guardian set me free on his berth, and only then I understood that we were in his private room. Sitting down beside me, he spoke even gentler than before:

- You are out of energy. And so do I. But still, I don't want you to stay alone...

Do you trust me?

I nod, already predicting where he was heading to. Cybotronian friends committed this small ritual with humans regularly; many were fond of it. However, I had never tried it with him. I couldn't claim that I was completely inexperienced too, but those previous times were emergencies which I couldn't truly like – they were harsh and distasteful like a rotten fruit. Now... It promised to be much more intimate. And it depended only on my wish.

I glanced at him through my eyelashes - I was too sleepy to keep the eyes wide open - and murmured:

- I do.

Optimus nodded. I was lifted up again - straight to his mouth.

Slowly, controlling every his movement, my guardian guided me inside his maw and laid my feet on his squishy glossa - there was a faint blue light twinkling at the back of his depthless throat illuminating a humid, warm chamber. Thanks to him I didn't even touch the sharp dents – their deadly blades loomed right above me, but stayed harmless, serving simply a reminder of what power Optimus actually had over me. The glossa curled around my legs as soft, thick blanket, then released them and I was pushed further to the glowing entrance of the esophagus.

I stared down, processing what was about to happen. I appreciated the leisure pace Optimus chose with me; his gentle licks and steady, rhythmical ventilating brought me nothing but comfort and peace. I sensed my toes in his pharynx and waited for inevitable with dull thrill - to be unceremoniously drugged into misty, humid confines of the muscles’ trap, to be deafed and choked. That what I was usually met with before, every time I was gulped down. However, when Optimus swallowed, his artificial, metal flesh contracted just slightly, pulling me so carefully inside that I almost missed the moment. It was like... A hug. The next swallow was just a little bit stronger - I gasped as he let his hand go off me and my tiny being got engulfed into his soft throat. It felt better than anything I knew before. Surrounded by the pulsing alien flesh, I finally felt protected and loved – the state I sought for so desperately all that fuckin’ day.

For some time he just held me there, his head titled back. I didn't make a move, trying to avoid hurting him. Living heat of his soaked into my bones and made me so drowsy that I thought I would fall asleep. However, at that moment the muscles came to action and lovingly tugged me deeper. The light grew brighter, though it didn't bother me at all; I was easily slipping in a long wiry tube constructed from the smaller ones, thinner and more solid, poured with viscous, bubbling energon – I was watching little sparks floating in there as I was passing by and a weak flame of forgotten happiness flickered in my soul once more.

Finally, I arrived at his fueltank. Its walls greeted me with a friendly squeeze, forcing me to curl into fetal position. I didn't cry anymore; all my worries and demons disappeared long ago, at the second I heard: "How do you feel, little one?"

God! I was so horribly wrong. I thought no one needed me, that I was lost, abandoned... And still, there was someone who couldn't bare me cry.

I felt Optimus' servo laying down on the lump I must have made on his waist, caressing me. I rubbed my head against the spot where I could recognize the pressure and smiled.

I did matter.

[jarofstyles]

Sugar Sugar 11

they are back 😜 next part is the smut I promise don’t yell at me.

Check out our Patreon for exclusive writing and early access!

Wc- 3.9k

Warnings- mention of cheating, witchcraft, relationship traumas

Series Masterlist

—-

Y/N was still thinking about the woman the next day. She hadn’t mentioned it to Harry yet, wanting to gauge his reaction in person. It had unsettled something, made her wonder why the hell she needed to contact him. It also made her realize that Harry really didn’t tell her too much about himself.

It wasn’t that she was necessarily suspicious- though her gut was urging her to ask questions- it was that she realized she had given him a lot of information and he hadn’t done it back. She was a pretty rational person, and figured it was probably because he hadn’t wanted to overshadow her sharing. It probably was. But something made her think Harry was hiding something he didn’t want anyone to know yet.

It wasn’t something horrid. That would have made her senses alert when she met him- but it was something that she wanted to know. She was patient but also a little nosy.

Y/N was broken out of her thoughts when warm hands wrapped around her body, making her squeal as soft, cool lips connected to her neck. As soon as she realized who it was her body relaxed, melting into his own as he let out a deep sigh. “Missed my Sugar today.” His voice vibrated against her skin, raising chills over it. “Long fucking day.” It was 7 right now and she had been closing up shop when he had snuck inside. It was a sort of a routine now, her smoky pink cloud of infatuation swirling around and engulfing the two as soon as his presence braced her.

“A long day?” She placed the swiffer duster down on the table, turning in his arms to look at his face. He looked tired. Slight dark circles under his eyes, hair flopped over on his face and more stubble than usual, she felt her bottom lip slope out in a bit of a pout as she rose a hand to cup his cheek. “What’s the matter?” She could feel he was tired. Just being around him, she could feel his energy was off. Murky instead of the normal crystalline pool of soft blue green she was used to sensing around his aura.

He leaned into her warm hand, visibly relaxing as he rubbed his scratchy cheek against the smooth skin. Y/N had an ability to soothe just with her touch, he was positive about that. Any time she got her hands on him he felt like he could melt. Sighing, he debated on telling her.

It wasn’t something he fully felt ready to talk about. As much confidence as he had in the fact that she was definitely not at all like the people he had walked away from in his old life, he was still paranoid. Nervous that at some point she would look at him differently, in a bad way. The circle he used to run in wasn’t known for the things he had tried to implement in his personality now, with her. He had effectively gotten away without a trace, and he didn’t need that to ruin the carefully cultivated dream world he was living in now.

“S’just… you know when old thoughts haunt you?” He asked, eyes closing when her fingers continued their soothing. “Couldn’t sleep well. Missed you. And I just can’t get some thoughts out of my head. It’s a bit ridiculous too, cause it’s irrational. Doesn’t mean my head got the memo.” The weak laugh was supposed to make her giggle as well, but it didn’t. His eyes opened to see the concern on her face, the rings on her fingers cooling his skin as she inspected him.

“I understand that.” Boy, did she fucking ever. Y/N had struggled with her own personal demons herself, things she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy, and sometimes they still found little cracks and crevices to hide in. They popped out of the dark to taunt her, to try and ruin her moods but she had worked hard to protect her energy. “Doesn’t mean I like seeing you upset. Your energy is off.” She murmured, sighing as she went to remove her hand from his face. Harry’s palm stopped it, pulling it back.

“Wasn’t done.” He tried to lighten the mood slightly. “Dunno how you can read energy like that, but I trust you in saying it’s off. I just… don’t know how to fix it. All day I’ve been waiting to see you.” There was a pause as he decided to just speak how he wanted, not worrying about being too much in their little bubble. “You always seem to make it better. Make me forget a lot of the bad shit.”

Y/N had a feeling that Harry was struggling with some things. It’s partially why she was waiting to question Claire's appearance. Something told her that he would know, and selfishly she wanted to ignore that for a little bit. Her gut was usually never wrong. How he knew her was a mystery, but her inky, cloudy energy had been radiating possessiveness. Something Y/N didn’t do well with.

Not when this pretty, tired man was hers.

“I’m glad.” She felt the heated tingle in her stomach, leaning up to catch his lips in a kiss. A supposed chaste kiss that he followed when she went to pull away, opposite hand curling around the back of her neck and dragging her back in. Warm and sweet and slightly chapped, his lips pressed against hers harder and made her forget why she had even wanted to pull back.

She gave in. Harry wanted to kiss her and she didn’t see why not, the firm hold on the back of her neck and the thumb brushing her wrist as he held her hand to his face making her shiver slightly. Every kiss with him, she could feel his attraction and fondness for her. Feel how he was holding himself back a little because he didn’t want to scare her. They’d been taking it somewhat slow but Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to wait too much longer to get intimate with him.

A startled squeak left her mouth as her back hit the counter, his slow steps backing her up having been ignored until right now when she succeeded in pulling back. With a laugh, she pressed her hand to his chest and craned her neck back, smiling at his pout. The man wanted more of her, the greediness evident in his grip on her and how close he had pressed his body to hers, but she didn’t want to do this here.

“Hi.” She peeped, looking up at him. His soft hair that had fallen from its usual pushed back state, evident that it was the end of his day and he had worked hard. He was beautiful, this man.

“Hello.” He replies, his voice grittier than it had been before. “Too much?” His tone didn’t give away much, but a flash of nervousness had gone through his face when she had stopped him. It was always a learning curve, as he reminded himself. Every relationship was different but there was something so familiar about her. Like he knew her soul. The comfort was so natural that sometimes he felt like had known each other their whole lives.

“Not at all.” The girl’s breathy tone made her want to wince. “I just… I was thinking that maybe we can go to your place. We can get food delivered or… we don’t have to.” She peeled up at him, looking away from his chest where her hand was resting on his thundering heart. “Probably more comfortable than the shop.” And if Delilah knew they did anything in the front she would hex her.

“Oh. Oh.” He blinked at her suggestion. “Yeah. Course. Did you want to like… stay over? Cause we have the day off tomorrow?” They were going to see one another anyways. It made sense, and he really, really wanted to wake up to her. He wanted his sheets to smell of her, he wanted to see her in his kitchen with messy hair and sleepy eyes.

“If that’s okay.” Her smile was shy, excitement blooming in her chest. “I’m just gonna run home and grab some stuff, some clothes for tomorrow and I’ve got t’feed the cats. Then I’ll be over.”

“Well, don’t be too long. Or M’gonna come and drag you over to mine. Or worse.” He teased. “I’ll set up camp there. You’ll never get rid of me.” It was a slight joke. Harry was obsessed. He didn’t think she could do much to have him leave her at this point. It would be scary if he didn’t like the feeling so much.

“I wouldn’t want to, but okay, pretty boy.” She shook her head at his antics. “I’ll be 30 minutes at most. Go home and decide what you’d like to eat.”

—-

Harry was panicking slightly.

After a quick shower, he realized that he needed to change his sheets. And his laundry basket was full. So he struggled with the fitted sheet, cursing to himself as he changed the pillow cases, lighting an incense stick Y/N had left and pulled on loose gym shorts. He had thought about dressing in jeans again, but Y/N would want him to be comfortable at home.

“Fucks sake.” He groaned, dragging his hand down his face. Why he was this level of nervous; he didn’t know. It was just the crippling need to impress her. She had helped put together his place, she knew what it looked like and what his bed felt like, but his mind was racing as he walked around to pick up the clutter that had accumulated and put it in its rightful spot- stuffed into the hall closet.

The food had been delivered and sat hot on his kitchen counter, Chinese food being the choice. She had texted him her usuals that he could choose from to surprise her and he had gone with his veggie lo mein, vegetable dumplings and fried rice. He wasn’t a full vegetarian, but he limited his consumption. Taking out two plates, he set them on the counter neatly before he shook his head. “Get a grip, mate.”

Harry had been dying to get his hands on her. When she had gone down on him and sucked his cock into her soft mouth, he was pretty sure he had his soul sucked out of him and she had held it in her soft palms ever since. His hands were greedy and grabby all the time, feeling her softness against his hands and he had been itching to uncover her in any way he could- but now he was nervous.

Y/N wasn’t just a hookup. This was his girlfriend. This was the first time he had done things properly, the first time it had been fully his choice to do so and he wanted it to be as perfect. As understanding as Sugar was, he would die of embarrassment if he fucked this up. The need to make her happy, to make her know that he was the one for her was so strong. All he wanted to do was prove it.

But he couldn’t deny the idea of finally getting to be inside of her, being truly intimate wasn’t making his body hot. He wanted to see her soft body exposed for him, see her laid out on his bed without a stitch of clothing hiding the body he had come to drool over. He wanted to feel her plush thighs against his face and squeeze her waist, watch her as ripple as he fucked into her- he wanted every bit of her raw and vulnerable so he could return it.

The knock at the door broke up his horny daydream, a thick swallow taken before he nearly jogged to the door.

There she stood. His pretty girl, soft gray cotton shorts hugging her hips and a flowing tank top with her shop’s logo on it on her body. It was disgusting, how his body was so unhinged that he felt the twitch in his cock as soon as his eyes dipped down to see a peek of cleavage. He felt like a mere boy getting his first glance of tits. God damn it.

“There she is.” He cooed despite his obvious check out of her body. “Come in. Do y’want me to put your bag away?”

Her smiling face was his reward for all the panic he had been feeling prior to her calmness walking through the door. “Course. Sorry it took me a minute, I grabbed a quick shower.” Her hair was still slightly damp, a sunflower shaped claw clip holding it back with two tendrils in her face that were seemingly too short to be held back. “I brought some dessert. I had this at home and thought I’d bring it.” From the plastic bag she pulled two cartons of Ben n’ Jerry’s. “I realized on the drive here that I wasn’t sure it was smart to bring sweets to your house since you’re always making them, but ice cream is different, right?” She had to laugh.

“Oh! Yes, I actually love this flavor.” He saw the name written on the tub, the swirly writing declaring it as ‘Half Baked.’ Mayhaps ironic, but he really did enjoy it. The fact that Y/N had thought to bring it over was only a plus. “You can put it in the freezer if y’want, I’m going to go tuck your bag away. I’ll be right back.”

Harry left her in his somewhat familiar kitchen, Y/N doing as requested by placing the softening treat into the freezer so it wouldn’t be soup by the time they got to it. Turning around, she got to observing how he had changed the place up. It hadn’t been much, but she saw that he had finally filled the frames that they’d gotten on their excursion. Walking into the living room, she went to the mantle over the fireplace and smiled as she saw that he had, indeed, been using the incense. The ceramic cup that held the incense sticks had far fewer than had started there, ash from the burning on the bottom of the holder still. It made her feel good that he hadn’t used it just to humor her- Harry actually liked it.

Eyes dragged back to the main event, the photos in the frames. One held him in a suit along with a younger woman that resembled him quite a bit in a blue gown. It had to be his sister. He didn’t often speak of his family but he had mentioned her in passing. He was smiling in the photo, just barely. Looking at it made her a little sad. It wasn’t the dimpled grin she had come to adore, the one that would rise right before he said a terrible joke. It was lackluster. Something she had never known the man to be.

The others held other men, a bigger smile on his face as a younger Harry looked back at her. The theme ran along them, Harry being younger and with the same group of boys.What surprised her was some of the locations. One looked to be a beach, the other in Paris in front of the tower, another in a lush looking pool. All places that didn’t look cheap in the slightest. She didn’t want to judge at all, but she had to wonder if he had money- why had he gone for a bare bones place? Y/N loved it, don’t get it wrong. It was comfortable and open, someplace she could be very comfortable living if she had the choice- it just wasn’t the type that had that air.

Maybe it was just some budget vacations? He had wealthy friends? Who knew. She was going to worry about it later. Even with the slight tug in her belly, she turned to look at how he kept the rest of the room. She had set it up a certain way when they’d come back to fix it up and he hadn’t strayed from it. If anything? It was just more clean. A tad more personal. The couch had a new throw pillow, an ornately beaded cartoon tiger that was very cute. She hadn’t thrifted that with him so he must have had it or ordered it later. Her eyes did a sweep, impressed on how the floor was spotless and he managed to keep clutter away when his footsteps interrupted her train of thought.

“I need to know…” She crossed her arms over her chest, startling Harry as he entered the kitchen to hear her voice coming from across the living room. “Have you always been this tidy? It looks immaculate in here.”

“I regret to inform you that I unfortunately have not been.” Tha man sighed, brushing a hand through his hair while he made his way over to her. “I tend to kick my ass into gear when I’ve got pretty girls coming over to spend the night.” Greedy hands reached for her, his fingers digging into her waist as he tugged her into his body to feel some of her warmth. It was obsessive and maybe a bit gross but the man was clingy. Clingy with a capital C.

“Oh?” Y/N’s brow rose on her face as she uncrossed her arms to rest her hands on his chest. “You have lots of pretty girls here to spend the night?” It was a tease, knowing what he meant, but she could see the flash of panic in his eyes as he blinked down at her.

“No! No- not here, not since meeting you. I promise-” His words were interrupted by her laugh, head falling back with a trill of her giggle. Her hands clutched his shirt, a shake of her head given as she righted herself.

“H, m’just joking.” She soothed, gently scratching over his shirt to smooth out where she had grabbed. “I know. I would know if you were cheating.” It was a reassurance but also a warning. Y/N always knew. Most women did. “A woman’s intuition is sharp and precise, darling.” Fingers gently pinched his blushing cheek, leaning up to peck the opposite one.

Y/N had felt it in the past. When her partners would pull away, when they’d avoid subjects. Even people she wasn’t in real relationships with. She could feel that deep rooted icky smoke billowing up from her stomach to her chest, making it squeeze. Harry had never once made her feel like she had to worry- even if her insecurities tried to suffocate her at night when they’d sometime slip through her confident wall’s cracks.

“I would never.” His face was serious despite her joking tone. “I promise. That’s… I know how that feels. I would never cheat. I think it’s one of the worst things you can do to a person.” A thick swallow was followed by sweeter words. “I haven’t looked at anyone since I met you. I wasn’t… I had actually told myself not to date or hook up or do anything as soon as I moved here. Then you came into my bakery and that idea smashed to bits. I couldn’t… Not pursue you once I’d met you.” Strawberry tongue swiped over petal pink lips, hand fiddling with the clasp of her necklace. “I wouldn’t do anything to risk that. I know you were joking but I really never want to joke about that. Hurts to think about.”

Y/N felt bad immediately. Granted, she hadn’t known that would be a touchy subject with him, but she still didn’t like how tight his brows were knit and how he had seemed nervous about her not believing him. For once, she had a feeling a man was being honest. He wasn’t afraid of her knowing, it was a fear of losing her.

“I’m sorry.” She sobered up quickly, lifting her hand to cup his cheek. “I didn’t know it would upset you. I never thought you would. I won’t joke about it again.” Eyes gazed into his, a sad smile raising on her lips as her thumb brushed over the slight scruff on his jaw.

“S’okay. I know you were joking. I just hate that people do that to one another. Y’know? I’d never be stupid enough to put this at risk for something dumb like that. Besides, you’re the only one I want.” He leaned into her soothing touch. “It’s why I've been so.. Maybe weird? I dunno. Sometimes I feel clingy and it’s not normal for me. I’ve never been like this in a relationship but I just want to be around you all the time.”

The admission had taken her by surprise. “Hey… I really don’t think that’s weird considering I feel the same way.” Thank god she hadn’t been alone in this. “Had to stop myself some days from telling you to come over because I wanted to give you space and not crowd you. I was told a lot uh….” Her throat tightened as she went to speak. “When I was in my first relationship, he told me I was really clingy and he needed a break from listening to me talk. From being around me. It hurt my feelings a lot and even though I’ve healed a lot from that, It makes me feel really good that my urges aren’t one sided.” She paused. “But it was never as intense as this. It’s way worse with you. I was a puppy following him around because I wanted any attention I could get back then. I really enjoy just your attention now.”

That was the difference that Harry could relate to. He had been similar when he was younger, but as he got older he was much more picky with who got his time. Now? He hand picked every single person in his life to avoid any sort of conflicts, any betrayals the best he could.

“Well.. I’m glad that you only want my attention, cause if there was someone else I’d have to take up witchcraft and curse them for it.” He joked, watching her roll her eyes before pushing out of his grip. “Hey! Come back here. I wasn’t done holding you yet.” She could hear the pout in his voice as she walked to his kitchen.

“Mhm. You can hold me later. We can do all sorts of things later.” She shot him a look over her shoulder, finding exactly what she had felt. His eyes had been on her ass. Blatantly. He didn't even have the decency to pretend he wasn’t looking, eyes dragging up her body. As if the slight insinuation had rewired his brain.

“And god, am I looking forward to that.” He muttered, running a hand over his face before following after her.

[lemons-bittersweet]

THE OUTSIDERS FROM THE BOOK IN DESCRIPTION.

IM SORRY IF THINGS ARE SPELLED WRONG NOR THE SENTENCES BEING REAL SENTENCES BUT I DONT HAVE THE TIME TO DO ALL OF THAT CURRENTLY

PONYBOY CURTIS- AGE 14- I have light brown almost red hair and greenish-gray eyes I wish they were grayer because I hate most guys that have green eyes but I have to be content with what I have my hair is longer than a lot of boys wear theirs squared off in the back and long in the front and other sides but I'm a greaser most of my neighborhood rather bothers to get a haircut size I look better with long hair I like to watch movies alone so I can get into them and live them with the actors when I see a movie with someone it's kind of uncomfortable it's like having someone read your book over your shoulder I'm different that way I mean my second oldest brother soda who's 16 going around 17 never cracks a book at all and my oldest brother Darrel we call darry works to long and hard to be interested in a story or drawing a picture so I'm not like them and nobody in our gang digs moves and books the way I do for a while there I thought I was the only person in the world that did so I loned it soda tries to understand at least which is more than darry does but then so does different from anybody he understands everything almost like he's never hollering at me at the time of day or he is or treating me as if I was 6 instead of 14 I love soda more than that I have ever loved anyone even mom and dad he's always happy go lucky and grilling while there Dairy's hard and firm and rarely grins at all but then darrys gone through a lot his this 20 years growing up too fast soda will never grow up at all I don't know which way is the best i'll find out one of these days Sodapop Curtis-AGE 16/17- more handsome than Ponyboy knows he's slim but has a friendly draw sensitive face that manages to be reckless and thoughtful at the same time dark gold hair that he comes back long and silky and straight and in summer the sun bleaches into a shining wheat gold eyes are dark brown lively dancing reckless laughing eyes that can be gentle sympathetic one moment and blazing with anger the next he's got his dad's eyes but his is one of a kind. Darrel JR Curtis-AGE 20- 6 feet two inches tall broad shoulders and muscular has dark brown hair that kicks out in front and slight cow lick in the back it's like his dad's but Darry's eyes are his own he's got eyes like two pieces of pale blue-green ice They've got a determined set to him like the rest of him he looks older than 20 tough cool and smart he would be real handsome with his eyes weren't so cold he doesn't understand anything that's not playing hard fact but he uses his head Steve Randle-AGE 17- Tall and lean with sick greasy hair he kept combed in complicated Swirls he was cocky smart and Soda's best buddy since grade school Steve's specialty was cars he could lift a hubcap quicker and more quietly than anyone in the neighborhood but he also knew cars upside down and backward he could drive anything on wheels he and soda worked at the same gas station steve part-time soda full time and the gas station got more customers than any in town whether that was because Steve was so good with cars or because so would attract girls like honey jaws flies

Two-bit (Keith) Mathews- AGE ???- Keith was the oldest of the gang and the wisecracker of the bunch he was about six feet tall stocky built and very proud of his long rusty colored sideburns he had gray eyes and a wide grin and he couldn't stop making funny remarks to save his life you couldn't shut that guy up he always had to get his two bits worth in hence his name even his teachers forgot his real name was Keith we hardly remembered he had one life was one big joke to tube it he was famous for shopping with his black switchblade and he always was smart enough to the cops he really couldn't help it everything he said was so irresistibly funny that he just had to let the police in on it to brighten up their dough lives he liked fighting blondes and from some unfathomable reason school he's still a junior at 18 1/2 he never learned anything he just went for kicks I liked him real well because he kept his laughing at ourselves as well as other things he reminded me of Will Rogers maybe because of the grin Dallas Winston- AGE ???- He had an elfish face with high cheekbones and pointed chin and small sharp animal teeth and ears like a lynx his hair was almost white it was so blonde and he didn't like haircuts or hair oil either so it fell over his forehead and wisps and kicked out in the back and tufts and curled back behind his ears and along the Naples neck his eyes were blue blazing ice cold with hatred of the whole world dally had spent 3 years on the wild side of New York and had been arrested at age 10 he was tougher than the rest of us tougher colder meaner the shade of difference that separates the greases from a hood was a present valley he was wild as the boys downtown outfits like Tim Shepherd's gang in New York dally blew off steam and gang fights but here organized gangs are rarities they're just small bunches of friends who stick together in the welfare is between the social classes of rumble when it's called it's usually born of a grudge fight and the opposite just happened to bring the friends along oh there are few gangs around here like the river kings and the Tiber Street Tigers but in the southwest there's no gang rivalry so Dally even though he could get into a good fight sometimes had no specific thing to hate no rival game only Socials and you can't win against them no matter how hard you try because they've got all the brakes and even wipping them isn't going to change the fact maybe that's why Dallas was so bitter he had quite the reputation in the file and down at the police station he had been arrested he got drunk he rode and rodeo's lied cheated stole rolled drunk jumped small kids he did everything I didn't like it but he was smart and you had to respect him Johnny Cade- AGE 16- If you could picture a little dark puppy that has been kicked too many times and it's lost in a crowd of strangers you'll have Johnny he was the youngest next to me smaller than the rest with a slight build he had big black eyes and a dark tan face his hair was jet black and heavily greased and combed to the side but it was so long that it fell into shaggy bangs across his forehead he had a nervous suspicious look in his eyes and that beating he got from the socialist didn't help matters he was the gang's pet everyone's kid brother his father was always beating him up and his mother ignored him except when she was hacking off his something and then you could hear yelling at him clear down at our house I think he hated that the worst getting whipped he would have run a million times if we hadn't been there and if he hadn't been gang Johnny would have never known love and affection are.

[baxtershairdye]

Fathers Day Dance ◦This takes place in step 2. In where MC attends a fathers day dance without bringing a father. Cliff steps up and takes them instead. ◦Just some wholesome father child action. ◦Gn! MC

◦Part 1/2 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. You sat at your desk chewing the end of your pen as you worked on your homework, your best friend Cove sprawled out on the bed nearby. Of course he wasn't really doing his homework. Cove never was much for school. Instead he talked on about whatever seemed to suit him at the moment. The conversation bounced from one topic to another before he brought up how he got volunteered for the upcoming dance committee by his teacher, despite his protests. You could feel your shoulders drop as you seemed to almost visibly deflate at the subject mater. It didn't take cove long to notice before he sat up, his legs hanging off the edge of your bed watching you carefully for a moment before speaking up. "You okay?" He questioned his voice wavering as he spoke. You weren't sure how to answer him. Would he even understand if you explained it to him? You didn't want him to feel sorry for you either. "I'm fine." You lied not even having to look at him to know he wasn't buying it. "Come on Y/N... I think I know you well enough by now to know when somethings bugging you." He pointed reaching over to pull your chair so you could face him. "Seriously Cove I'm fine. It's no big deal." You attempted to convince him only gaining a unconvinced stare from your green haired companion. You groaned slouching in your chair running a hand over your face. "Fine. Maybe I'm a little upset about the dance." You admitted stressing the 'little' part of the statement. His expression shifted from one of determination to one of understanding. "Do...do you wanna talk about it?" He offered his eyes having not left you since the sudden shift in tone. You stayed quiet mulling over the thought before sighing. "I just...I don't know I guess I feel left out...like I'm missing out on the dance because I don't have a Dad.." You shrugged staring down at your hands. "Not that I wish I had a Mom and Dad instead of two Moms. I wouldn't trade them for the world.." You felt bat that you even felt that way. You wondered what your Parents would think if they'd heard you. Cove sat there quietly as you spoke waiting patiently for you to finish. "No I understand." He assured leaning forward propping his arms on his knees as her thought. "Do you Want to take my Dad?" He finally asked looking up from his spot on the bed. "I'm sorry what??" You Blinked, having not expected the suggestion in the slightest. It took a few seconds to register the offer before you shook your head. "What? Cove no I couldn't. What about you? Besides Would he even want to go with me?" Cove shrugged in response. "Well I mean...I'm not really into this kinda thing and you are. And I'm sure he'd want to you're basically family anyway."

"You're sure about that?" You spoke softly as cove stood. "Yeah of course I am, i wouldn't offer if I wasn't okay." He flashed you a friendly smile as you stood up from your chair. "Anyway lets go ask him, better now than never." He stated heading for your door, you following closely behind him as he lead you down the stair, and out your front door.

You felt a wave of nervousness wash over you the closer you got to the Holden house, part of you wondering if you should just turn around. By the time the thought crossed your mind Cove had already swung the front door open holding it so you could enter first.

The house smelled of cooking food. You weren't sure what was being made but whatever it was smelled delicious.

Cove's Dad had glanced over hearing the front door, assuming his son had returned back from your study date but being pleasantly surprised but also not at all surprised by the familiar face that had followed his son home.

He flashed the two of you a bright smile as he wiped his hands on his baby blue 'Kiss The Cook' apron. "Hey kiddos, done with studying already?" He inquired. "Uh... not entirely no." Cove shook his head. "We wanted to ask you something.." He admitted as Cliff quirked a brow at his son.

"If this is about a sleep over you know we agreed not on a School night." He warned knowingly. You and Cove tended to be attached at the hip after all.

"What? No Dad we know, It's not that." Cove dismissed the thought looking over to you as if willing you to just ask. You swallowed thickly the nerves of asking him such a simple question giving you cotton mouth. Cliff seemed to catch on some what shifting his full attention to you as you psyched yourself up. He wore a kind smile not rushing you in the slightest while simultaneously hanging off whatever you might say.

You took a Breath looking up at the blonde finally willing yourself to speak. "Would you.. Will you go with me to the Fathers day dance?" Your tone was quieter than usual as you waited for his response. He seemed frozen for a moment a shocked expression on his features as he processed the request. You waited for what seemed like forever but in reality was only a few seconds. You looked up as a loud sniff brought you out of your thoughts seeing the man in front of you desperately trying to keep himself from tearing up then and there. He must have assumed this was Cove's suggestion seeing as how he was the one to start the conversation. Especially since his reply was almost immediate after that. "Of course I will. I'd be honored to."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you at his answer the choked feeling in your throat vanishing as you rushed forward pulling cliff into a hug, hearing a quiet "Oof" as you made contact with him.

"Easy there, you're gonna take us both down." Cliff joked lightheartedly as he placed a hand on your back giving you a gentle squeeze before you could pull away.

"Thank you. You have know idea how much this means.." You thanked him sniffling as the nerves died down leaving you just a bit emotional. He gave you a kind look ruffling your hair gently in a fatherly fashion. "Of course, I wouldn't dare to miss it." He assured letting you pull back fully as you reached up to fix your hair.

You glanced over to cove who was standing by watching the display receiving a thumbs up as he noticed you look over at him. You smiled at him sweetly before looking back to cliff. "Well now that that's sorted...I guess we should get back to studying..." You explained not sure how to gracefully leave the situation.

Cliff laughed but nodded nonetheless. "Sure kid, don't let me stop you." You gave him s final smile and another quiet thanks before leading cove out and back across the street. You were actually excited for this event now.

[secretly-a-catamount]

Let Me Avow

(This Story Can Also Be Found Here On Ao3

Part One Can Be Found Here

Note: Although This Is Technically Chapter Two Of This Fic It Can Easily Be Read As A Standalone)

  It had been raining the day Annabel Blackthorn turned nine.

  It was always raining.

  At least the Blackthorns’ house was dry, Malcolm had thought idly as he watched his friend wring the rain out of her hair, the orphanage had always been wet and leaking, the sagging, patched roof and broken window offering no protection against the harsher of the elements. The water droplets caught in Annabel’s hair looked like the diamonds Mrs. Blackthorn occasionally took out of the family vault and wore around the house. She looked like a bird, poised on the edge of his cot, ready to fly far, far away.

  “Malcolm?” She was the only one who ever called him by his name, to the rest of the Blackthorns and their servants — who feared the retribution that would surely be dealt to them if they dared be kind to him — he was simply “warlock” or “boy” or “you”. Not Malcolm, never Malcolm, never to anyone who wasn’t her. (He wondered, sometimes, if that was the reason why he loved her name in turn. He knew it wasn’t.)

  “Yes, Annabel?” Her voice was steady, his was too, as if he were an equal lightly chatting with her during a social call, instead of a servant she’d tracked down in the depths of her family’s house, where she was expressly forbidden to go, to let him tend to the discolored bruises her father had left across her face.

  “Would you tell me a story?”

  “What kind?”

  “Something true.” Her eyes seemed to burn in their sockets, blue-green flames flickering behind a brittle, paper mask. “But not so true that it . . .”

  “Hurts.” He finished softly, her bruises fading as his fingers slid over her skin with all the light grace she had herself possessed when she’d glided across the surface of a frozen pond earlier, knives she’d stolen from the Weapons Room tied to each foot.

  She sighed, shoulder slumping. Whether her relief was that of the pain and swelling was gone or that of the fact that he understood what she felt without a measure of doubt, Malcolm couldn’t tell.

  “There was a boy at the orphanage.”

  “Not you?” Her voice was a whisper.

  “Not me.” His voice was a whisper too.

  “His name was Tobias Finch. He had red hair, and freckles, and a book of stories. It was green and had a rather particular color on the lettering that made up the title, like gold or copper, although it wasn’t either, it was tin painted to look like something valuable. It was an atlas, this book, and it had stories. Those stories were tales, really, places where the people could dance and where they could hide and nothing bad would happen to them because of it. The writers called it a masquerade.”

  “How did they hide?” Annabel seemed to be drinking in the words. Body angled towards him, hands gently folded in her lap, her face glowed as if she had just seen her first glimpse of the sun after a fearsome storm.

  “They wore masks.” He answered, his hand still fitted to the gentle, oval curve of her face (he knew he should draw away, but he simply couldn’t make himself, not from her, not from Annabel, the only one who still spoke to him with kindness, the only one who had ever touched him gently), “covering their faces but not their eyes. So they could see but not be—“

  “Seen,” she interrupted, the singular word a rushed exhale, “so they could see but not be seen.”

  A stab of relief. “Yes, yes, that’s it. That’s exactly it.” He was glad to know that the understanding that they shared went both ways. He understood her, and she understood him, and he knew that, knew it all the way down in his bones, but it felt good to be reminded anyway. There were days where her family made him doubt. He hated them on those days, instead of nearly fearing and disliking them.

  “I wish to go there someday.” Her voice was wistful, as if she was seeing past the wooden beams and bricks and stones and mortar to a place that was better — a place that deserved to house her.

  “I’ll take you.” It was a reckless promise, one he couldn’t stop himself from making. “I’ll take you there.” His words were softer now, almost reverent, like how Annabel had said people spoke in the church neither of them were allowed to attend; Annabel, of course, had snuck in a week or so ago to steal several bottles of pink-reddish wine, her parents and brothers off in Idris, the two friends had drunk the church-wine until they’d been sick.

  Annabel suddenly seemed uncertain, as if she had just really realized where she was, had just realized who she was spending her time with, had just realized what her family would do to her if they found out she was doing either of those things.

   She was beautiful and kind, she was wonderful and goodness, she was light and his friend, but — he suddenly jumped up from his cot, limbs a tangle of nervous motion as his mouth jumped over the moon and ran away with both the spoon and his thoughts.

  “I understand if you want to leave, your parents, we can meet later, I’m got down to the village, buy some spell ingredients, I know you have a landscape painting you want to finish, we can—”

  “Malcolm, you’re being incredibly jumpy all of a sudden. Whatever is wrong?”

  “You’re apprehensive. Or you look it, at least, and that bothers me, because we’re friends. I don’t want to be the cause of your strife or—”

  “Malcolm. I look apprehensive because I bought you a gift and am uncertain if you will like it or not.”

  “Oh.” He hadn’t expected that, he knew she loved him, that’s what friends did, but gifts? She never gave him a gift before. He blinked owlishly, wringing his hands. “If I might ask—“

  “You know you can.”

  “Where is this gift”—gift? she’d bought him something? he hadn’t quite been aware that he meant so much to her—”my room isn’t quite big enough to hide a box.” Indeed it wasn’t, the room behind the great house’s boiler was barely large enough to hold the cot and two children. In true, his room wasn’t really a room, but a old, crumbling storage closet with a makeshift bed shoved into it. There wasn’t even enough space to put a nightstand, the lit candle placed in the small alcove Malcolm had carved into the wall using magic.

  “Of course, there’s no box. I made it. It’s a bracelet.” She held out her arm, on her wrist were what looked to be pieces of colored glass strung together on a thin metal wire.

  “But that’s you’re sea glass”—the sailor had told him to give them to someone special and without even thing Malcolm had turned and handed the smooth shards to Annabel, saying that they matched her eyes—“and that’s your bracelet, and it’s your birthday; you’re supposed to get gifts on your birthday, not give them.”

  She pulled him back down to sit beside her on the cot. “Shadowhunters don’t celebrate birthdays like Mundanes, so I’ve decided that I can do my birthday how I want it. I want to have the greatest gift and the greatest gift you can give me today is your happiness. And besides,” she said, unclasping the bracelet with her teeth, and than re-tying it around his wrist, “you already gave me four gifts today.”

  “I did?” It looked wrong on his wrist, something so surly hers on his body, something that would never truly belong to him no matter how much he went along with it to please her. “What were they? Healing your bruises?”

  “No, you silly boy, you gave me a story and a wish and a promise.” She was speaking in a whisper again, leaning in much, much closer than was proper. Her breath was warm against his face. Her eyes glistened in the faint candlelight like deep pools to the ocean, not for the first time Malcolm thought he wouldn’t mind drowning in them.

  “That’s only three things.” He whispered back snakily, uncertain, if this is going to progress in the way that he thought it was, uncertain what he would do if it did. He’d fallen in love with Annabel Blackthorn a long time ago, he just never thought she’d reciprocate his feelings.

  “Yes, it is. But that’s okay. What you’re going to give me I can you back.”

  She smiled, a slow, dazzling thing that stole the words from his mouth.

  And then she kissed him, and that stole all the thoughts from his head.

[idkelly]

RED NAILS

• Lalo salamanca x fem!reader, with some nacho too (best of both worlds), HEAVY on slowburn, and i love hurt comfort so bear with me •

CHAPTER ONE

A green hue was spread across the room, along with a buzzing sound that never seemed to have an end,filling each and everyone’s ear till it became white noise. Clearly the others noticed too, but they were far too busy in their heads, either thinking about some personal issues or, most likely, thoughts regarding the pet they brought here.

The waiting room wasn’t that boring; on the contrary, it was kind of entertaining. Seeing all kinds of people with their pets waiting—well, only a people watcher would enjoy it, and (Yn) sure did.

Especially having small conversations with the woman sitting next to her made the wait seem a lot shorter than it actually was. She was a woman, well in her 40s, it seemed, with shoulder-length blond hair mixed with some white hair and gleaming blue eyes that only portrayed comfort to whoever looked into them. She also had a German accent that made everything she said even more welcoming. She was sitting with her small white-furred puppy in her lap.

"So tell me, what’s a young soul like you doing in New Mexico?"

 (Yn) let out a small chuckle. "Beats me really; I just came here to take care of those who raised me. Oh, you know the saying, family is everything."

"I wish there were more people like you; most take them for granted." The woman wrapped her arm around the younger man’s shoulder. "Me and my husband want children; really, it was my idea, but the fear of being tossed after years made us agree on just having this little guy here." she said with a small smile as she brushed her fingers over the dog’s head.

Well, it really depends on how you raise them, though I’d say it’s also the child’s choice in the end, so I totally understand your point."

"True, there’s another reason: the fact that my husband's work always makes him spend days or weeks out of town; it’s really frustrating like he’s doing—

"Miss (Ln), please come on in." A voice spoke from the microphone above, making both women stop their conversation. (Yn) turned over and stood up after she gave the blond a side hug. "It was lovely meeting you... Come to think of it, I’ve never caught your name."

"Margarethe Szitzer, and you, young lady?"

"Iris Leoz” (Yn) answered with a smile as she shook her hand and said, "See you around, miss zeigler."

 Well, your cat is in perfect condition, but I suggest you trim her fingernails once every two months and don’t give her cheat meals as often; she’s enjoying them for sure, but her health is far more important."

 The vet was examining a cat, who sat on the table purring under the man’s touch, while the owner sat across the room looking over.

"But I love her being chunky; she’s much cuter while she wobbles around the house."

 "I think it’s far more cute if she walks around instead of being a corpse with a hernia in her belly surrounded by puke on your floor." The man glared through his glasses while Yn huffed and jumped off her chair, making her way to the examination table.

"The job?"

 "A protection job, bodyguard, 200 bucks."

"What else?"

"That's the best I got." He leaned over the cabinet behind him. " I know a loan shark. He always needs enforcement and recovery, pays well, and it’s steady work."

(Yn) hummed along as he continued, "Most of the time we were just talking intimidation, strictly verbal."

 "Most of the time I’m not breaking legs. Okay,  what else?"

"That’s all I've got at the moment; take it or leave it."

The nightbreeze hit Yn'’s skin, making it tingle, and as she walked out of the department, she pulled out her phone, dialing a number with a slight smile across her face. After a few rings, the phone was answered.

 "It’s done; I’ve got it." After a few seconds, she hung up the phone, and to the surprise of the wan that was watching her as he walked to the vet’s front door, she snapped the phone in half like it was a leaf. 

 It was either the casino or home; she didn’t know which one she should choose, but since she had a job to do tomorrow, the rational choice was her bed and snacks.

 The meeting place was a parking lot in a three-story building, not the most common meeting place, but it was still acceptable. She took the bus to not draw any suspicion whatsoever to her vehicle if something were to happen in the future. She did her hair in a style that she was most comfortable in; nothing would get in her way; and she wore a simple outfit.

 Walking into the parking lot, she was met with an older man with his arms crossed over his chest, definitely white as they come, bald head, couldn’t tell if it was either by choice or not, and also had the urge to lend him her sunscreen.

They greeted each other with a head nod; no words were exchanged.

Soon later, a giant man came along, wearing a gray hoodie with some jeans and a bald head. Is this a new trend in New Mexico?

This is the place where we wait?"

 "Think so."  The older man answered.

And then along came the fourth one, a skinnier,even younger leather jacket with military cargo pants and spikey hair. The type of guy that would try to be friends with his kid’s friends to appear more hip and cool

"So, what’d our guy tell you about the job?"

 "Not much," (Yn) said.

 "It’s a protection job, civilian. Guy is green as they come, but we’ll be there to make sure things fly right." without noticing, Yn and the old man beside her exchanged a look of confusion as to what this guy was thinking.

 "You've been doing this for how long? I assume we’re all heavy hitters, and it makes sense. The vet recommends the best of the best. Dealing with some of these ethnic types of blood, it tends to run a little hotter. That’s just science, physiology—

"Please grab a gun and shoot me in the head. I can't listen to this any longer." (Yn) whispered as the big guy let out a small chuckle and nudged her side, while the older man definitely heard her but didn’t give any reaction.

"Yo, little girl, what's chu packing?" with Yn finally turning her head and the blabbering man looking at him with confused eyes. Don't tell me he thought this was a gun job.

 "A Delicio"

"Sorry, what?"

"Delicio, a chocolate milk one, so much better than the strawberry." With that, she took out the small milkshake from her jacket pocket and took a sip.

The man let out a nervous laugh. "That’s really cute, old man, what’re you carrying then?"

 "A pimento sandwich" (Yn) lets out an audible laugh. "Pimento is a cheese. They call it the caviar of the south."

 “Listen, yo. If y'all don’t want to tell me what y'all are carrying, so be it. But you don’t have to be a douche about it.”

 "You asked what we were carrying, and we answered you." (Yn) added

 Wait, so you’re saying you guys don’t have a gun. How are you here without a gun?" his voice filled with confusion.

“I've got at least two guns on me that I’ll tell you about. I go old school with a Wilson Combat 1911, and I got a Glock 22 Gen. And those are just the ones I’ll tell you about," he added.

Only to receive a huh back from the old man beside him. (Yn) was so close to shoving the milkshake she had been sipping for the last half hour into his mouth to stop hearing that nonsense.

Finally, to ease the awkward tension, a vehicle has been spotted by the four as it makes its way to the location. The door opened to reveal the driver and the main reason for this job.

These people only get whiter for fuck sake, (Yn) thought. Man literally looks like if Makka Pakka turned human. What a fucking joke!

 After a few seconds, he spoke in a shaky tone, "Hi, Hello. My name is Price. Actually, that’s not my name. But I have a nephew named Price. I’ve always kind of liked that name."

Subconsciously, Yn's head turned to the old man only to find him already looking in her direction; they agreed that they were the mature ones here.

As the glasses man was blabbering about coffee and what not, the skinnier guy interjected, "Hey, I have a thought."

"How about you give me and Man Mountain 750 each?" should’ve choked him earlier. "And send Uncle Fester and Princess there home. they’re not carrying a gun. They’re useless."

"Is that true? You guys didn’t bring a gun?"

"We didn't think we needed one." (Yn) answered calmly.

"Shawty, listen, it’s a protection job; how in the hell are you going to protect your employee without—“

"I’ll tell you what, if we need a gun, I’ll just use one of his." Her attention never left the man who stood before her. "I agree to that," Gramps added.

"Really? One of my guns? How do you picture that happening exactly?"

 The old man hummed a little before answering, "Well, I guess I’m going to take it from you."

 Yep, and that’s how Uncle Fester ruffled skinny’s feathers, and now he’s challenging him to ‘take’ one of his guns. oh boy

 Only in 60 seconds do we have a man on the floor barely breathing with an old man who has three guns in his hands, while a mountain man runs like Princess Peach, and of course the job man watches this unravel.

 "All right," the old man said while he tossed the pistols into the trash can nearby. "Let’s go."

 "But we need three guys."

“No, buddy. We don’t need three guys. C’mon. Let’s go," the woman said as she tapped his shoulder while getting into the back seat.

The wait wasn’t long but instead boring as Gramps answered Price’s questions. For a first-timer, they were genuinely okay questions, but he should’ve done his research beforehand.

 A red truck finally made its way over; Yn  was still leaning onto the car right in the middle, while Gramps stood up and walked a bit to the right, and Price was already standing on the left side.

"I knew we needed three guys—I knew it. It’s a three-man job—"

"If you don’t get your shit together right this second, I’ll break your face as soon as the other guys leave. If you don’t have balls for shit like this, then don’t get involved in the business, you twit." 

And that seemed to shut him up while the old man was making his way forward.

Out of the car were two jobbing guys, all in black, and one guy who was wearing a dark red button-up with the first few buttons unbuttoned and a gold necklace dangling around his collar bone.

 shaved head that seemed to suit him quite nicely and a face structure that was great to show intimidation, he had some hardeyes she’s never seen before.

"Hello, Hi," Price said like he was a ringtone; it was cue for (Yn)  to walk up too, so we could better see this shitshow up close.

 "Do you have it?" The red-shirted man spoke, and (Yn) flashed a smile but quickly hid it to the surprise of the high-pitched voice of this guy, but it didn’t go unnoticed, by him at least.

"I do."

"Do you have the money?" a yellow envelope was handed over.

As Price was back in the car, silence filled the scene. Red Shirt was looking straight ahead at the guy he was dealing with, but he couldn’t help but feel like some eyes were burning holes through him.

He knew it was the woman, but it definitely wasn’t a stare of interest; more so, on the studying side, looking back at her, she didn’t seem to have any intention of breaking the eye contact they held, and neither did he.

 The deal ended with the guy handing over a twenty-dollar bill and taking home the pills he held.

In the car (Yn) and Gramps got paid. While Price was asking questions, the woman tuned in in the middle of the conversation. "Now, that fella you just met, his name is Ignacio Varga."

"He runs with a connected crew of drug dealers. This deal he’s doing with you he’s doing outside his crew; he doesn’t want his bosses to know, so it was in his best interest that things go smoothly."

"So the lesson is, if you’re going to be a criminal, do your homework." The woman in the back added, "Now get us home; this place is too hot to have this conversation here."

The drop-off place was the same as the pick-up place, and without saying goodbye, Price turned home with his car.

"What’s your name?"

"Why should you know?"

"I know you know mine; it’s only fair," she smiled.

"mike hermentrout"

"Nice to meet you, Mike," she said, holding out her hand in a shake now with a smile that covered her whole face. Mike knew he shouldn’t mess with fire yet.

 "Nice to meet you too, (Yn)." Mike's eyes never left hers; he knew her sudden appearance didn’t mean good; it was far from that; a storm was coming.

as she turned around and excused herself, the man’s voice stopped her, "How’s your dad doing?"

“Actually, I'm on my way to see him right now. Wanna come?"

"Maybe another time."

[justsomerandomfanfic]

hi! i was wondering if i could get romantic matchups for hobbit, lotr, disney (cartoon), gotham, stranger things, dc movies and x-man?

(i hope it's not too much (⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠•⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠) )

i'm 6'0 and have amber eyes, long gold blond curly hair and hourglass figure

i'm positive and upbeat person, i try to see the bright side in most situations

i'm friendly, energetic, confident, responsible, maybe a bit chaotic, cheerful and bubbly

i care about my friends and family a lot, and go out of my way to show it

i enjoy having fun and living life to the fullest

i really like puzzles, riddles and crosswords

i love making people smile

i have morbid, dark sense of humor

sometimes i randomly say a weird obscure fact in the middle of conversation

i'm demisexual panromantic

i can play on violin, cello, piano, guitar, saxophone, harp and drums, i'm currently learning how to play on trumpet

i like poetry and sometimes i write a poem or two, also i'm writing my book

i'm ballet dancer since i was a kid and i love performing

i'm working on my own cartoon

i never quite grew out of the fantasy phase, and i'm still enamored with tales of changelings and witches

i work as illustrator for fantasy books and books for kids

i'm kinda struggling with taking rest, doing nothing, because there is always something to do, something new to learn, etc.

i'm afraid of stagnation

i overuse this kind of emojis→(⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

i love: sunflowers, collecting things, colors yellow, maroon, blue and green, astronomy, tea, making and watching movies, photography, forests, making jewelry, cooking, baking, d&d, fantasy books, horrors, playing chess, animals, plants, dollmaking, dancing, gardening, traveling, drawing, painting, knitting, art, history, world mythologies, spirits, fantasy creatures, eldrich beings, folklore, sculpting, works of J.R.R Tolkien, linguistics, death, burial, beliefs about afterlife, learning new things, embroidery, cartoons, music, psychology, writing

sorry if it's too chaotic

thank you so much for even reading this!

i hope this isn't too much (⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠) but if it's too much, i understand!

i love your writing sm, btw! ❤️

Thank you so much for requesting a matchup! Sorry it's a bit late! <3333 And thank you so much for your kind words!

---

The Hobbit;

Thranduil:

🦌 You met Thranduil when you were captured by his guards in his Mirkwood forest, and instantly he was taken by you; even though Elves only love once, he felt his cold heart melt a little when his cool, blue eyes met yours

🦌 What surprised you was the fact that he didn't throw you into a cell, instead, he let you stay with him, asking you questions that slowly dwindled from questions about the Company to more about you; and actually you began to grow fond of the Elf King, he wasn't as mean and cruel as the other Dwarves had said, he actually was quite... Sweet

🦌 And sweet he was, before dinner, (which he asked you to join him, and you sat beside him as a special guest), he had learned that you loved playing instruments, and ordered one of his Elves to bring you one; Thranduil then gifted you a beautiful, crystal harp

🦌 When Bilbo had found a way to escape with the Dwarves, your heart was split, go with them and reclaim the mountain or stay with Thranduil; obviously after Thranduil gave you that deer-eyed look, you stayed, even thought you'd miss your new friends and wish them well, you wanted to live your life with Thranduil

🦌 And he was always there for you, making sure you had everything you ever need and wanted, Thranduil became super protective of you, making sure you were safe, (and making sure you don't die like his last wife...); together you are the 'it' pair, a powerful one at that, though you were able to thaw his cold heart, allowing Thranduil to rule Mirkwood with a much softer boot, and he has you to thank for that, (you changed him for the better)

---

Lord Of The Rings;

Samwise Gamgee:

🥔 You met Sam when you joined the Fellowship, watching as he stood by his friend Frodo wish such confidence, his other two Hobbity friends joining in; you instantly felt drawn to him, thinking he was just simply adorable

🥔 During the journey, you got closer with the little gardener, and that was actually the first thing your found that you both had in common; from gardening, plants, sunflowers, and baking, that was just to name a few of the things you both spoke about with such fondness

🥔 And it was very upsetting when Sam left to follow Frodo, though before he left he made sure to say his goodbyes, which let to you both in tears; you watched as he ran off before going back to fighting stray orcs, and Sam sat in the boat with Frodo after he almost drowned, rubbing his cheek, the feeling of your chaste kiss still lingering

🥔 You only saw Sam again after the ring was destroyed, sitting with him, holding his hand as you waited for Frodo to wake up; while you both waited, you both caught up, along with sitting in the peaceful silence

🥔 Sam was enamored by you, your voice, your touch, the way you held him always gave him such comfort; and you loved Sam, the way he recited a small poem he wrote for you, or his promises of showing you his home, your lovestruck

---

Disney (Cartoon);

Milo Thatch:

🔍 You met Milo when you were asked to join the crew on the trip to seek and search out Atlantis, you being a well-beloved and a professional at your craft, (you were an expert in world mythologies and folklore); you had to join, you loved the idea of finding the lost city, you loved learning new things and you hated stagnation, you needed to get out there and find that city

🔍 When you physically met Milo, you thought he was sort of awkward and dorky, and he on the other-hand, thought you were amazing, to say the least; he asked you what felt like a million questions, about you job, your likes and your possible theories, and that's when the rest of the group began to grow pretty irritated... Since neither of you stopped talking

🔍 Milo absolutely loves the way you joke around, your jokes always make him laugh and you think it's the most beautiful sound in the world, and Milo would say the same, whenever he gets a laugh out of you he feels like he's died and gone to heaven

🔍 After finding Atlantis, you earned the cash that was promised to you, but instead of spending it on jewels or fancy clothes, you started up your own business; Milo, the little gem that he is, bought you one of the books on changelings and witches that you have been looking for, (that earned him a cute date the following weekend)

🔍 Milo really thinks he's found someone who understands him, and you feel the same, finally you felt seen and heard; and everyday with Milo is an adventure, never do you get bored or anything, you both are always up to something ;)

---

Gotham;

Edward Nygma:

❓ You met Edward when you worked with Oswald... Well, you didn't work for him, you worked as a sort of... Partner in business, so to speak; you actually were extremely smart, in fact, you graduated from Harvard and MIT, working on perfecting your own... Special technology (as a somewhat good and bad guy, you called yourself a vigilante, you made your own tech that helped a lot of people, and one of those clients was Oswald)

❓ Anyway, you met Edward when he came to talk with Oswald, of course, you were there too; the conversation was slow, but once he gave you a riddle, it was like fireworks went off; you then surprised Edward by answering the riddle perfectly, and that's when Edward began to like you

❓ Now, Oswald, liking Edward, didn't really like you getting close to the Riddler, but you were closer to Oswald, and you knew that he wouldn't kill you, or try and have you killed, you could take care of yourself; so, with no one to really stop either of you, you and Edward began sort of 'dating'

❓ You knew being a vigilante and him being a villain, you'd both never had a normal relationship, no dinner dates out and about that's for sure; most dates consisted of you and him either quietly reading together, giving each other riddles to solve, or just doing crosswords together

❓ Even though Edward's mind is a bit... Warped? He, (and his Riddler persona) are mighty fond of you, and he was sure of himself that if you were ever in trouble, he'd be there for you; you felt entirely the same, you made sure to o out of your way to show Edward how much your cared for him, always there to make him smile

---

Stranger Things;

Eddie Munson:

👹 You met Eddie when you worked with Steve and Robin at the Family Video, he'd come by to say hello to the two and that's when you met him; instantly, he felt some sort of connection, (he likes to say it was love at first sight), and after meeting you, he came to the Family Video almost twice a week

👹 And everytime he came around, you be at the front desk, you got a bit suspicious that Robin or Steve knew when he'd come over so they put your behind the front desk; but Eddie would lean against the counter, flirt a little, give you his charming smile, and believe it or not, you fell hard

👹 From there, it was like you both were dancing around each other, waiting for the other to make the big move to ask the other out, but during that time, Eddie pulled out all the stops; bringing you sunflowers, new notebooks to write in, stuffed animals, and even new maroon yarn for your knitting, (which you loved)

👹 You were practically being spoiled by the young man, and the moment he gifted you a new set of dice for D&D, you asked him out; and of course, he said yes, and the both of you went out to a nice diner for dinner before going to see Labyrinth in theaters (because he remembered how much you loved fantasy)

👹 Eddie is head over heels, smitten completely, and falls deeper in love whenever you play D&D with him, and he loves how chaotic you can get, (he gets them heart-eyes); you couldn't believe you had someone like Eddie, a brave young man who understood you and made you feel alive, it's ever a dull day when Eddie's around, that's for sure, (you can't get enough of him)

---

DC Movies;

Diana Prince:

👑 You met Diana when she met Bruce, your boss? It was never really said for sure if he was your boss or not, you helped him out with paperwork, but you felt that you were more of a friend than an assistant; anyway, you met her when Bruce heard about her, (and yes, you knew that Bruce was Batsy), and you were immediately hypnotized

👑 Like why does she have to be walking around all gorgeous like? She is literally a Goddess, like what the hell... In short, you were in love, (she might as well have been aphrodite; Diana, thought you were mighty pretty too, she loves the blonde hair, (she wants to braid it), and it made her realize that she might have a thing for blondes

👑 Well, after a couple of weeks of flirting, lingering touches, and sneaky, (not really), glances, she asked you out on a cute like amusement park date; there, she won you a giant bear stuffed animal, (cause of course she can win those games), and you both shared a kiss on the ferris wheel

👑 Diana, though she knew that you could take care of yourself, always made sure that you were safe before she left to fight villains; you stayed at your shared home, reading your J.R.R. Tolkien and other fantasy books, knitting yourself a new scarf and a matching one for Diana, and even baked something new

👑 Even though Diana sometimes left to fight and save others, you always knew that she loved you, she was very expressive, and you knew she loved you since she loved hearing about your random facts when you conversed; you found her incredibly smart, talented, and felt like you were on Cloud 9 whenever she's near, ("you're whipped," Bruce had once said but that only made you smile)

---

X-Men;

Charles Xavier:

🧠 You met Charles when you were sitting at a small diner, drinking some good tea and eating a small slice of cheesecake and then they walked through the door; Charles, and his friend Erik, sat across the booth with you and that's when they told you that you were a mutant, just like them

🧠 This surprised you, for one, huh? And two, who were these people, and lastly, why was the one just staring at you so intensely? All these questions had flown through your mind, and as if he had read it, Charles answered all of your questions; he was a mutant, he could read minds, you were a mutant too, and he would be willing to help train you

🧠 You thought about it for a moment, still a bit confused and slightly overwhelmed, you said yes, why wouldn't you? You got to be trained by a very handsome man who lived in a mansion; turns out that you were actually a mutant, you did feel like that was a fib, but you were one, (you could actually harness and manipulate sound and energy, levitate, create forcefields, use telekinesis, and exert major force with the energy, (the same as Vitkor from Umbrella Academy if you wanna see your powers in action))

🧠 You trained with Charles, using the violin, cello, and harp to help enhance your powers, and during this time, you grew close with Charles; Charles, as he taught you for a good couple of months, slowly fell for you, and he fell hard

🧠 By the next Spring, you both became an item, going on little walks, cooking together, reading by the fire together, and so much more; Charles is incredibly fond of how sweet and positive you are, you always brighten his day, and you feel the same, always amazed by the man before you, you both work so well together

---

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Ivy through the lens of Morgwen

How's one to know? I'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones In a faith forgotten land

Ok this makes me think of when they meet in the woods in season 5 they meet in a place where so many have died and by being there even somewhat against her will Guinevere has betrayed Arthur’s faith in her.

In from the snow Your touch brought forth an incandescent glow Tarnished but so grand

They are the light of each others life and bring forth strong emotions (the two meanings of incandescent). It becomes a tarnished love though because after Morgause’s influence and the subsequent betrayal Morgana they no longer can hold each other as they once did. Or you can argue that according to Uther their love would have always been tarnished as to be with a servant would detract from the value of Morgana. Either way though their love had been grand.

And the old widow goes to the stone every day. But I don't, I just sit here and wait Grieving for the living

After Morgana’s betrayal Guinevere lost her love but there is no grave to visit and in a way she’s forever left waiting. Similarily Morgana is the the same way except she has more belief that Gwen could come to her side.

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand. Taking mine, but it's been promised to another.

The loved one tries to take some of the pain they hold it in their hand, but the wording of a freezing hand is amazing because that can often be something uncomfortable so that can mean though they try to help the other they cause them discomfort instead. In a way they can both fit this role never really being able to create what the other needs. Morgana as the kings ward (and daughter though people don’t know that) was likely intended to be married off to someone and Guinevere was destined to marry Arthur but yet they take each others hands.

Oh, I can't. Stop you putting roots in my dreamland. My house of stone, your ivy grows. And now I'm covered in you

They cling to each other. They love each other so much but they are destroying each others plans. Guinevere can never get that soft life she’d dreamed they might have as Morgana won’t let go of her bitterness and realize better plans and Morgana can’t convince Guinevere to join her side of the fight as she cares for many people in Camelot

I wish to know The fatal flaw that makes you long to be Magnificently cursed

They both wish to know what makes the other wish to be with them despite never getting to truly be together. Well they both love each other it is a curse to be forced to hide it. Also brings to mind Morgana’s magic it could be considered a curse and Gwen as most people in Camelot don’t understand that it’s not always a choice so she would wonder why she decided to take on magic.

He's in the room. Your opal eyes are all I wish to see. He wants what's only yours

You could describe Morgana’s eyes as Opal as like Opals Morgana’s eyes can appear Blue or Green and even Gold (Opals have even more colors but Morgana’s eyes are limited to that)

Clover blooms in the fields Spring breaks loose, the time is near What would he do if he found us out? Crescent moon, coast is clear Spring breaks loose, but so does fear He's gonna burn this house to the ground

I know on the original context him is the woman’s husband but in this analysis it’s Uther because he’s far more filled with rage. We have seen in the show that he has no care for servants and those his children cares for. He would kill them without hesitation. Arthur doesn’t have that same cruel anger even if Morgana and Guinevere had been together when Gwen and him got married.

How's one to know? I'd live and die for moments that we stole On begged and borrowed time

They were truly in love with each other. It started out sweet and innocent even though it was a secret due to how society would view their relationship. But it was borrowed time, they were destined to be torn apart.

So tell me to run Or dare to sit and watch what we'll become And drink my husband's wine

Morgana gave Guinevere an out when she rose to power, Guinevere could join her side or even just sit on the sidelines and no harm would come to her. But they had to become something they never wanted to be. Torn apart and turned against each other.

And I'm covered in you So yeah, it's a fire It's a goddamn blaze in the dark And you started it You started it So yeah, it's a war It's the goddamn fight of my life And you started it You started it

They are on an opposite sides of a fight and it was Morgana who started it. Had things gone differently Morgana and Merlin’s could have stayed friends and brought back magic together and Morgana and Gwen could have been happy but instead Morgana was bitter and the war was started.

[sarahwalters18]

Visual Analysis

For this project, I chose to do the Mona Lisa. I just got back from a trip to Paris and waited until last minute to do this project. When I first laid eyes on the Mona Lisa, I was completely shocked. I was expecting to look at a huge painting, but it is actually very small. I could not see it from a far, I had to go very close to it and analyze the details of this piece. If you were to set this painting down at a dinner table, it would comfortably fit and fill the space without giving a feeling of it being too big.  The Mona Lisa was made from oil paint and is painted on a poplar wood panel. In the painting, I saw a lot of different shades of red, orange, and yellow. They are not vibrant colors, but they are instead duller. The background of the Mona Lisa has more cooler colors like blue and green. The subject of this painting is Lisa del Giocondo who was an Italian woman. The reasoning behind this painting is not exact, but a big theory is that this painting represents a joyous woman, so it overall represents happiness. Leonardo Da Vinci was a huge fan when it came to lighting. He really liked the way the lightning looked when it would fall onto curved surfaces. The Mona Lisa draws viewers in for the mysterious vibe it gives off. The background includes hazy mountains and her facial expression that is hard to read. Viewers become intrigued to understand the meaning and message of this piece. Details from her hair to her face, and her hands reflect Da Vincis understanding of lighting. Mona Lisa is asymmetrical which gives the painting a more lifelike image. Her shoulders seem to be close to symmetrical, but it is not perfect. The use of asymmetry here is used to demonstrate a lifelike image. The proportion in this piece is unlike any other. You can tell that he truly focused on the proportion of Mona Lisa. The positioning of her head and shoulders adds to the naturalism.

This art piece makes me feel curious. I feel that I want to dive deeper and figure out the true meaning of it. It forces me to think and become extremely intrigued in the message. I feel this way because the woman in this piece looks extremely mysterious. I cannot tell her emotion, which makes me want to know even more. Moving on, the Mona Lisa is associated with the High Renaissance which lasted from the late 1490s to 1527. The High Renaissance was based around Italian areas, specifically Rome and Florence. The Mona Lisa was commissioned by Francesco del Giocondo because he wanted a painting of his wife. The Mona Lisa is a huge representation of the type of artist the Da Vinci was. He showed off his skillful aspects that we can remember him for. He showcased his technical skill, emotions, transitions, and more. It is hard to read the image and understand what he wanted to showcase, which I think is a huge reason the painting became so popular. It has people wanting to know more.

Da Vinci is an extremely powerful and talented artist that has a lot of the skill that all artists wish to have. Some may argue that the mysterious face shown in the subject is a great way to draw an audience in, but others may disagree. I think that it can lead to a lot of confusion when trying to interpret art. When I first arrived at the Louvre I was expecting a big art piece, but it was quite underwhelming when I saw the actual size. However, seeing how small the piece was is quite extraordinary to see because of the hype over it. Knowing such a small piece can be this huge in life is great to think about. The Mona Lisa is very important to our society of lives now. It teaches us about the High Renaissance and the way art used to be. It also is a piece for artists to look up to and learn from. It can inspire many people and encourage people to get of their comfort zones. I chose this piece because of the great history behind it. I love getting to learn about how life was before modern day, and older art styles.

Sources

“From the ‘Mona Lisa’ to ‘The Wedding Feast at Cana’ - the Salle Des États.” Le Louvre, www.louvre.fr/en/explore/the-palace/from-the-mona-lisa-to-the-wedding-feast-at-cana. Accessed 25 Oct. 2024.

“Mona Lisa.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., 15 Sept. 2024, www.britannica.com/topic/Mona-Lisa-painting.

“Leonardo, Mona Lisa.” Smarthistory Leonardo Mona Lisa Comments, smarthistory.org/leonardo-mona-lisa/. Accessed 25 Oct. 2024.

[agent-lotus]

Letup

When Ruby woke up, she was not in her own bed or even that of the temporary accommodations she'd been staying in with her parents. She was in the increasingly comfortable bed belonging to Lotus. The android rested their head on the edge of the bed but otherwise remained asleep.

Now that it was light out, she could properly see the details of the room. The walls were painted a sky blue with clouds and a light representing the sun. The carpet was a grassy green. Along the bottom of the wall was paintings of flowers. They also had a bookshelf full of books, pink chair, a loom, and a desk with a computer and a jar of moss on it. It was the opposite of what Ruby was expecting. There was nothing cold and sterile about it.

Lotus rose their head as they awakened. "Good morning Ruby. Did you sleep well?" They greeted her. "Yeah." She said. "Your bed is so comfortable. I wish I had a bed like this instead of a cot." They smiled. "Hopefully you can have a bed just like this once we get everything sorted out. For now you can sleep in my bed." Ruby's face lit up. "Thank you."

The android got up to go check on the contents of large jar on their desk. Ruby followed. Inside the jar was a small barn. A sun was rising out of it. "What's this?" Ruby pointed at the jar. "This is the terrarium for my Counting Sheep. It is a Doctor Wondertainment product." They explained. "Right now the sheep are all asleep in the barn. The flock will be awake soon. Then they will leave the barn to graze and frolic in the moss."

As if on queue, the door to the mini barn opened, and ten miniature sheep trotted out of the barn. Seven were white, one was black, and two were grey. "Wow. Do they have names?" Ruby asked. "They have different colored tags on their ears with numbers. I refer to them by their numbers." She shook her head. "You can't call them by numbers. They need names." She argued back. "I naturally process data as numbers. It is how I think." Lotus stopped. They had an idea. "Would you like to name them?"

Her eyes go wide. "Really?" She was smiling. The sheep came up to the side excited. "Okay okay, this one is Spice. And this one can be Jax. That's Button. Cushion. The black one should be Bumble. Then Sugar, uh Buddy, what about Fern? Cloudy? Oh, Socks." Lotus lightly clapped their hands from the base of their palms. "That is ten. Those are all lovely names." Ruby smiled proudly.

"Once Edgar leaves for work, I will make you breakfast. And I can introduce you to my brother." Lotus told her. "You don't live alone?" Ruby was surprised. "That is correct. It is part of the domestic containment program. Staying with an approved member of staff." They explained. She nodded excited. Time with Lotus was incredibly different from life at home.

Lotus peaked out of their room. Edgar was eating breakfast in the mess that was the apartment. They said their good mornings and Lotus informed him of their intent to turn on AADAM. Naturally, Edgar okayed this. He even helped turn on the old computer before he left for work. They thought about telling Edgar about Ruby. About what they did. He would understand. But he would also want Lotus to do the right thing and confess.

For breakfast, Lotus scrounged up some oatmeal and a banana for Ruby. Just like Taylor had done for Jordan when they were kids.

[percontaion-points]

Covet chapters 160 & 161, Epilogue, & Bonus Chapters

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 160

As the last one falls away, the beast throws back his head and bellows like his life depends on it. The roar bounces off the rocky walls and ceilings, echoing throughout the cavern for several seconds. 

And then he shifts, and a man is standing in front of me dressed in a royal-blue tunic, gold leggings with laces, and a gold and royal blue cloak tied over one shoulder and fastened with a large sapphire broach. 

He’s tall, with smoke-gray eyes and blond hair fastened into a braid. He’s also got a short, pointed goatee and seems to be in his late thirties. I shift back but don’t try to approach him. “Are you all right?” I ask this man who has suffered so much and who, in his own way, has helped me through so many of my own troubles. 

He looks at me like he doesn’t understand what I’m saying, but eventually it must sink in because he nods. “Th-th-thank you,” he finally manages to say. 

Do you guys remember when I was reading the series about the dragon people? And they found the iron dragon who had been held captive for decades? So long that he literally forgot how to transform back into a human, and speech was difficult for him. 

Yeah. I can’t help but think that the second this guy was freed, he transforms back easily, and also remembers basic human communication. 

Now I really do rear back in shock, because who is her? And why does she need to be protected if she’s already got the Crown?

Chapter 160 summary: Grace goes in and uses the key to free the beast. (He is never given a name, so I will continue to call him Beast.) As I mentioned, he transforms back to a human easily, and can communicate in passable English, despite his ancient-looking clothing. 

Macy brings forward some snacks she always has with her, but Beast is wary of anybody. Grace opens some water and drinks some, and eats a cookie to show that it’s okay. 

She then asks about the crown. He says “no crown” over and over. Everybody silently goes “What do we do now?” Beast then says “Her crown. Must have her protect crown.”

Chapter 161

I hold my hand up for my friends to see, and as they all crowd around, I can’t help asking, “Now what?”

Chapter 161 summary: Grace promises that they’ll protect whoever this “she” is that Beast is talking about. Hudson warns about making blanket promises, because what if it’s like his shitty mom or somebody? Beast goes on and says “Give mate crown”. This fills Grace with hope that there’s another gargoyle out there. This makes Grace agree to help his mate out. 

Beast then grabs Grace’s hand, but then pulls away and walks towards the entrance to the cave. The others want to go after him, but Grace says that there’s not really a lot of places he can go that they couldn’t follow after. But she looks down at her hand and realizes that Beast had put the crown into the palm of her hand (like the flowers had been). 

Chapter 0

I think it’s time I tell her about her emerald-green string.

Chapter 0 summary: For some unholy reason, we get a final chapter, but in Hudson’s POV. This is never explained, nor do I know why any of it is necessary, but here we are. 

As Macy opens up the portal to go back to the school, Hudson looks at Grace and wonders if his love for her is enough to overcome her lingering feelings for Jaxon. The feelings he knows came bubbling to the surface when she watched Jaxon die. (Which he doesn’t blame her for, and wishes it had been him instead.) Grace turns and tells Hudson that she loves him; he returns the sentiment. 

They go through the portal, only to realize that the forest around the school grounds is literally on fire. Everybody runs inside, only to find that the interior of the school has been completely and utterly trashed, and everybody is gone. 

They find the school’s healer, Marise, in the infirmary, and she tells them that Cyrus did this. They now think that the battle on the gargoyle island was nothing but a distraction, and think that this means war. Well, more war, since Cyrus attacking them on the island was the first declaration of war. 

However, they naturally think that Cyrus’s goons killed everybody, and that the 11 of them are literally the only ones who will be able to stand up against Cyrus. (Completely ignoring the fact that there’s no mention of bodies. The narration only said that everybody was “gone”. Besides, why would Cyrus kill those who were on his side?)

Beast says “She can save us”, while pointing to Grace’s hand. He then transforms back into stone, leaving the others to wonder what the hell he was talking about. 

Bonus chapter 1

Grace looks so knackered when we get back to Katmere from visiting the Crone that I want to wrap my arms around her and carry her to my room, but I have no idea if she’ll let me or not.

LITERALLY NOBODY ASKED FOR THIS. 

And I’m still not okay. More, I’m pretty sure I never will be again.

Bonus chapter 1 summary: We have the scene right after everybody came back from visiting the crone. Hudson and Grace are joking and flirting, and everything is kind of the same as it was in the original, only with Hudson oozing love for her. 

Then Jaxon attacks, and things are again, way too similar for me to say much about it. But when Grace calms Jaxon down and he admits that his soul is fractured from the breaking of their bond, Hudson’s heart starts to break. 

He slips away and goes to his room. Grace sends him a bunch of texts in a row, but he only answers the last one to tell her goodnight. And then he mopes around. 

Bonus chapter 2

And as we take off fading back up Denali, I can’t help thinking that sometimes you get lucky. Sometimes the family you’re born with and the family you make coincide. And that makes all the difference. 

Bonus chapter 2 summary: Unlike the previous bonus chapter, this one is a scene that wasn’t included. Because Grace wasn’t there. Hudson goes to his brother in the middle of the night, and asks to go for a run. As Jaxon puts his running gear on, Hudson looks around the room. He finds a wooden toy horse that he’d made for his brother. Looking at the thing brings back all of the good times he’d had with his brother… and all the things his shitty dad had done to torture both of them. 

They run, but Jaxon doesn’t seem interested in talking. Hudson tries to talk about Grace, but Jaxon is quick to shut him down. Finally, Jaxon says that the two of them aren’t close, and never have been. Hudson brings up the horse, but Jaxon had forgotten who had given it to him before he was forced to go live with the Bloodletter. This brings back some memories previously buried, and he apologizes for having killed Hudson. They crack up over that, and ask if Hallmark has cards for that.

[yourantag]

Apricity (Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: My first post on this site and of course it's for friends. Regardless, I hope whoever reads this, enjoys it! This is also my first time using Tumblr and posting so if it looks bad, I'm sorry. Word count: 1.7k words Summary: Ithaqua loves you. He loves you more than he can ever express, so he sets you free. That's what you need, right?

If he had to describe you, it'd be with only a single word. Ithaqua didn't think anything else could quite explain the deep seeded feelings that blossomed in his heart. The warmth that filled him to the brim, the natural softening of his gaze, or the way he'd snap to attention at the sound of your voice, all of it, everything, those reactions, it all culminated into one word.

"Apricity."

When you smiled, when you laughed, when you listened, and when you talked, it all soothed his soul. It was the feeling of sunlight touching frigid skin in winter, that warmth like salvation upon him. 

You were the Sun and he was the Earth. The Earth that could never survive without the warmth of the Sun, that bathed in its light every day and circled it for eternity. You two shared a bond stronger than that rooted in words, which dragged you together like gravity, that set him alight in shades of blues and greens. 

However.

He knew he didn't deserve to feel like this. 

He knew he didn't deserve you. 

Your kindness and understanding even when he yelled, when he reacted in ways that made him hate himself, made Ithaqua wish he'd never met you at all. You're just too compassionate, too willing to embrace his flaws, to love him when he isn't worthy of even just looking at you.

That feeling curled in his gut, whispered in his head, sunk its teeth into his heart, and devoured him alive with guilt. For really, what else could he do? Live without you? Death would be kinder.

Even with that guilt lingering in the back of his head like the bitter taste of gal upon one's tongue, he stayed by you. Nothing could make Ithaqua willingly separate from you for longer than a few hours. Well, other than your boundaries.

As he thought this, basking in the rays of the sun all the while, you stood by his side. You smiled at him as you ran in the snow, kicking up the fluttering white frost and laughing all the while. You twirled and hummed, dragging your hand along the porch, scooping snow into your hands and packing it together into a ball.

When you turned to him, he thought you'd launch the snowball at him. Instead, you rushed towards him and presented it to him, eyes sparkling the whole time. It resulted in him staring at you in confusion, though Ithaqua hesitantly took the snowball from your palms.

Once Ithaqua accepted the snowball, you ran back to snatch more snow, turning it into a smaller ball. Then, once more, you offered the snowball to him, which Ithaqua once again accepted with confusion. This repeated a few more times before you were seemingly satisfied, smiling as you made him hold out his hands with the snowballs.

You stuck your tongue out as you focused on the snowballs, grumbling below your breath. Ithaqua watched, smiling softly as you continued to do this. The way your brows were drawn together in concentration was adorable, leaving him content to let you do as you pleased regardless of how odd it was.

After a few minutes of rearranging, you pulled away with a grin. Clapping your hands together in glee, you look up at him. Ithaqua feels the familiar sensation of his heart squeezing, though he ignores it in order to give you his full attention.

"Look! I made us as snowmen! Er- snowpeople??? Snowpeople!" You say it with a child-like joy, taking one of the snowmen- snowpeople from his hands. Belatedly, Ithaqua realizes this one vaguely looks like him.

You cradle the imitation of him like it's the most precious thing to exist. In turn, he holds the imitation of you as if he'd protect it with his life. You laugh as he does, making him laugh in return. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, the sun giving you a halo that makes you glow. You're lit up in shades of gold, making you look like everything he'd ever desire and more.

You look good like this, Ithaqua thinks. You look good when you're happy.

Perhaps that was what made him do it, what made him kill himself. That part of him that loved you so much it could be called nothing less but obsession, slayed and buried by his own hand. He shoved it into a corner of his heart that would never be reached again, locked behind walls he started to build around himself once more.

Ithaqua stopped talking to you, he started to avoid you. He stayed in his room as much as possible, or hid in the darkest parts of the woods surrounding the manor. Even when you had matches with him, he'd show neither hide nor hair of himself before you.

It was as though he'd all but disappeared from your life, giving you whiplash. Did you do something wrong? Did you push his boundaries? Did you accidentally offend him?

Even as you had this emotional crisis, Ithaqua stubbornly refused to face you. Even as his heart broke seeing you cry, asking the other hunters if they knew why he was acting this way, he hid away. No, perhaps it was more accurate to say he ran away.

It was better this way for the both of you, he thought. You could shine your light upon those who deserved it instead of someone like him. He doesn't regret anything. It doesn't hurt.

Even to him, his words all sounded like empty lies.

Still, he'd hold true to this plan. Even as his temper grew worse, making him snap at fellow hunters or unfortunate survivors, he continued. Ithaqua refused to meet you in any way, shape or form. He knew if he did, he'd never be able to let you go again.

Oh, but he should have known. Just as he is stubborn, you are too. Perhaps more than him, even. It was natural for someone who was willing to try and help him, who was kind enough to do so.

When Ithaqua found himself in a random match on Leo's Memory with no recollection of going there, he simply thought it was a punishment from the baron. He'd been losing quite a few matches and hurting many survivors severely, after all. Any matches with you in it, he'd simply not participate in, running away whenever he got tinnitus. In any other match, however, he hunted like never before. So, perhaps this was retribution. Perhaps, it was his turn to be hunted.

And hunted he was.

Ithaqua ran, heart pounding in his chest, though not because of fear. Even as his legs felt as though they'd give out on him, he pushed through, forcing himself to go beyond his limits. If he didn't, it'd all be over.

His blood pumped almost painfully through his veins, his stilts slipping on ice as he continued to try and gain distance. It wasn't working all too well, but he'd be damned if all his efforts went to waste.

However, it was all for naught. In a single moment, he was pushed onto the ground, body colliding with snow. Ithaqua would have struggled if not for the fear of hurting you.

You loomed above him, pinning him down as you desperately gasped for air. Tears were pooling in your eyes as he could only look away in guilt. 

'This is what you do to them.' The voices whispered. 'They've only just seen you again and they're hurt. You can never protect what you love no matter how hard you try. Truly, they'd be better off without yo-'

"Stop."

Your voice cut through his thoughts as you brought your hand up to cradle his face. Tears fell like shooting stars from your eyes, dripping onto his face as though they were his own. Truthfully, he felt like crying, too.

"You always look like that when you're thinking something self-deprecating." You whisper the words like you don't want them to be heard, don't want them to exist, but he hears them anyway. His heart clenches, both in deep sorrow and in shameful love. You knew him too well.

"I don't know why you've been avoiding me, but if it's because of something I've done, I'm sorry. Please tell me what I did, I won't do it again- I'll- I'll make sure I don't over step, or hurt you, or, or-" You cut yourself off, hiccuping as you roughly wipe your eyes. Your tears continue to fall no matter how many times you rub them away, never-ending.

Ithaqua sighs quietly as he lets go of the last of his self control. With his plans laid completely to waste and your quaking form before him, he can't do anything but surrender himself to you. It was a complete and utter loss.

"It's not your fault." He says gently, tenderly wiping away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You look at him with a certain kind of softness as he does so, allowing him to shift around so he can cradle you.

Even now, with tears rolling down your cheeks, eyes reddened, and sniffling in his arms, you were lovely to him. 

"I don't deserve you. You're simply too pure- too good for someone like me. I'm not someone kind or patient, I'm cruel and temperamental. You deserve someone who isn't broken, someone whole. It shouldn't be your job to help me, you shouldn't have to deal with my outbursts. I knew you'd never abandon me yourself, so... I left on my own."

He buries himself in your shoulder, unwilling to look at your face. In hindsight, this plan was a horrible idea. It'd obviously hurt both you and him, and solve nothing at all. Yet, for whatever reason, it made perfect sense to Ithaqua, even now.

"Whether you are worthy of me or not is up to me." You force him to look you in the eye, hands holding his face firmly. "You do not get to make that decision for me. And in my eyes? You have always been worthy."

Ah. 

He feels tears that he'd forced himself to push down, finally gather in his eyes and fall. You smile kindly at him as you wipe them away, as tenderly as he had for you. 

Ithaqua bares his soul to you as the morning sun starts to rise, painting you both gold. The pain, the grief, the joy, the relief, everything that his heart had hid, laid before your eyes to see.

You truly were the sunlight that touched his frigid skin in winter.

You were apricity.

You were salvation.

.

.

.

Tag List

@ithaquakisser, @xiaosmary

(Man why is this platform so hard to use smh)

[finelinevogue]

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

                                                            ••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?" 

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

                                                          ••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

                                                             ••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.