#Jack H. Harris

[moviesandmania]

4D MAN Reviews and free on YouTube

‘He walks through walls of solid steel and stone!’ 4D Man is a 1959 American sci-fi film about a scientist who discovers a formula enabling him to pass through solid surfaces. However, he also rapidly ages, which forces him to kill humans to reverse the ageing process by absorbing his victims’ energies. Directed by Irvin S. Yeaworth Jr. (Dinosaurus!; The Blob, 1958) from a screenplay by Theodore…

[sesiondemadrugada]

Camille (George Cukor, 1936).

[tinyreviews]

Tiny Review: Downtown Owl 2023. Messed up girl lands in messed up town but there is no story.

Pity there is no story here. I like the style.

Downtown Owl is a 2023 American comedy drama film directed by Lily Rabe and Hamish Linklater, in their directorial debuts, from a screenplay by Linklater. It is based on the 2008 novel by Chuck Klosterman. It stars Lily Rabe, Ed Harris, Vanessa Hudgens, August Blanco Rosenstein, Jack Dylan Grazer, Finn Wittrock, and Henry Golding.

[g4zdtechtv]

X-Play Classic - WWE '12 Review

Bigger. Badder. Better.

[no-144444]

Hiyaa there!! Can I pls request a scenario with Oscar. Reader never had her first kiss (and that makes her nervous) and they talk about it and he's being really patient and gentle with her like hugs her closer kisses her and it's really cute and fluffy😊 that would be adorable and it's so Oscar. Thank youu!!!

first kisses- o.piastri

summary: being jack wolff's nanny is a pretty sick gig, especially when your old friend is an f1 driver and is interested in you...

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader

part one part two part three

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

23 with no romantic prospects probably should’ve made you feel worse about yourself than it actually did. Yes, you occasionally wondered what it would be like to have someone to love and cherish, but you knew it wasn’t exactly realistic. You were extremely busy, like, all the time. Being Jack Wolff’s live-in nanny was quite the chore, despite him being only one child. Don’t get me wrong, he was well-behaved and sweet, but he still had a packed schedule of going to F1 races every now and then. When he wasn’t spending his weekends in the Mercedes garage, he was busy spending them in his own garage. Jack was in the beginning stages of his karting career, and he was damn good at it too. He loved the rush of trying to go as fast as he possibly could through every corner, every chicane, every straight. When he took his helmet off after a race and ran straight to you, it was one of the best feelings in the world. You loved Jack like a little brother, he adored you like a second mother. 

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“Why did we have to get up so early?” he yawned as you walked through the Harry Reid airport, just after landing in Las Vegas. Due to the fact that Jack was two public figures’ son, you two always got the craziest flight times to avoid crowds. 

You smiled, picking him up and placing him on his suitcase so he could sit while you pushed him. “Because your mom and dad missed you,” you explain. “And they want to see you as soon as possible.”

“I could’ve waited a little longer,” he mumbled. 

“Das ist nicht nett,” (that is not nice) you chuckled. “They miss you, and you haven’t exactly been very good at texting them back.” 

“But we could’ve had a race this weekend,” he whined. 

“We do, you’re just not racing in it,” you smirked as he rolled his eyes. All 7 year olds really were sassy. 

“Do you want me to ask your dad if we can go to a track for a little bit of the weekend?” you offered after watching his sad face.

The frown on his lips instantly turned into a smile. “Yes please! You’re the best!” 

The kid knew how to play you, you’d give him that. 

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

It was 7am when you finally got checked into the hotel, and it was finally time for Jack to go see his parents. As much as he pretended he didn’t, most nights than not he would sneak into your bed and ask you to call one of them, so much so that you’d just made a time where you called each of them so he could talk. He had been getting better at the whole ‘long distant parenting’ but it still hurt him sometimes. Sometimes, he just wanted his dad, but his dad was 3,500km away at a race where their car was a piece of shit. 

You knocked on the door of their hotel room and it immediately opened to reveal a very excited Susie. “Jack!” she cheered, picking him up in his arms and hugging him tight as he giggled. Toto wrapped his arms around the both of them as they all reunited. 

You 4 have breakfast together where you popped the question about going to a kart track at some point over the weekend and they begrudgingly agreed, upset that they’d miss out on precious ‘Jack time’, but understanding of his want for more track time all the same. You had agreed to join them in the garage for the morning though, since seeing everyone again was nice. 

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Toto joked as you both sat and watched Susie showing Jack around the garage. 

You chuckled. Jack was obsessed with anything to do with cars. He loved his kart more than anything, and h e couldn’t wait to move up into single seaters. He also had a mechanical engineer as a nanny, which probably didn’t help all that much. “We’ve created a monster. I’m the one teaching him about tire temp and degradation,” you chuckled as Toto just put his head in his hands jokingly.

“How are you?” he turned to you. “Any news?”

“Nothing new, just Jack’s news, I guess,” you shrugged. To be honest, you loved your life. You loved nannying Jack, you loved living in Monaco, you loved being at a kart track every single weekend, but you knew that wasn’t the typical experience of every young adult. 

Toto squinted his eyes. “How are your friends?” 

“They’re good, we went over to London the other week to go see them, since Jack had a race there on the weekend,” you explained, knowing what Toto was trying to say. “Don’t worry about me, I’m taking care of myself just fine.” 

He nodded. “We worry about you too,” he shrugged. “You’re like another daughter to us, we want you to be happy.”

You smiled. “I am.”

“And any boyfriends-?”

“Shut up!” you playfully hit him to stop the awkward conversation that would follow. “Enough Toto.”

“What?” He feigned innocence. “I can’t be interested in your dating life?”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “No you can’t.” 

“Y/n!” Jack shouted as he ran over to you. “Can we go to the track now please?” 

You looked to Toto, who nodded, then off you went to go grab Jack’s things and get into the car. When you pulled up to the track and got him stretched and warmed up, you watched as he circled the track while Toto and Susie went over strategies for the weekend in the cafe of the place. Toto had booked it out for Jack (mostly so he or you wouldn’t get papped, but also because that’s how Jack likes tracks when he’s practising), or so you thought. About 40 minutes into you being there, half of the McLaren garage showed up in papaya, apparently ready to race.

“Hey Toto,” Zak smiled. “Jack’s looking fast out there.”

“Hi Zak, what’re you doing here?” 

“Racing,” he chuckled. 

“We’re supposed to have it booked out for the day,” Toto argued. 

You came in as the two men started getting heated (which didn’t take much) and pulled them away from each other as Susie went outside to keep an eye on Jack. “What’s the issue?”

“We have the track booked out, and they want to race,” Toto scoffed. 

“We also have the track booked out,” Zak explained. “Also hi Y/n, nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too,” you smiled at him. “So just let Jack go until they’re done getting ready, they do a session, Jack does a session, and so on. We need to get out of here at 3 anyway, and you and Susie are leaving earlier.” 

They both pondered the deal, feeling rather stupid for not being able to compromise on their own. 

“Sounds fair,” they both said at the same time, then they went back to their respective groups. 

You went out to tell Jack, who agreed quickly, wanting to watch what the F1 drivers would do in a kart. You two watched at the sidelines as they went around the track, Jack literally taking notes beside you as you watched one kart only. Oscar Piastri. 

Oscar and you had been friends in boarding school, and you’d always had this inkling he liked you, but he never acted on it before you left school, so nothing ever came of it. You had definitely liked him back though. He was so nice to you, so sweet, so funny. He was just… Oscar. 

As Jack got back on track, Oscar came over to sit with you. “Hey,” He smiled. 

“Hi,” you smiled back, scooching over so there would be more space for him. On track was Jack v Lando, and Jack was winning. 

“How are you?” he asked. 

“I’m good, thanks, you?”

“Great,” he smiled. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

“It’s really nice to see you again.”

“I thought I’d seen you around the paddock but then I realised how strange that sounded so I just chalked it up to my imagination, which is an even weirder thing but, yeah. It’s nice to know you’re not just a figment of my imagination,” he chuckled, awkward and shy, just how you remember him. 

You laughed. “Yeah, not a figment of your imagination, just Jack’s nanny.” 

“Cool,” he nodded. “He’s a good driver.”

“He’s very good,” you agreed. “Every weekend we’re at tracks, it’s madness.”

“Where are you living now?” he asked. 

“Monaco,” you explained. 

“Me too,” he smiled. “We should meet up sometime.”

“I’d like that,” you nodded, and you couldn’t help but feel the charged air between you two. 

“I’d like that too.”

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

Asking for a night off was a nightmare. Both Susie and Toto had their noses stuck into your business no matter what, so they begged and pleaded to be told why, but you somehow kept your kind-of-date-not-really-a-date under wraps until you got to the restaurant. 

And it was nice. Oscar was just as sweet and funny as he was when you two first were friends. He even walked you back to the apartment, stopping before you went upstairs so as to not be seen by Toto or Susie. 

“I really had fun tonight,” he smiled, the cold Monaco air making his cheek red. 

“Me too,” you smiled. “It was really nice to catch up.”

He stepped closer, a nervous smile on his face. “Tonight was a date, right?”

“I-I’m- I don’t- I…” you trailed off, looking away from him as you both chuckled. 

“I’d like it to be,” he admitted. 

You nodded. “Me too.”

“So I can kiss you, right?” He smiled. 

Your heart slightly stopped, you’d never been kissed before. How did you even do it? Would he think you’re awful? Would this end the entire relationship?

“I don’t have to, I’d just… I’d like to,” he smiled understandingly. “If you’re not ready for that then that’s alright.”

“I just… I’ve never been kissed,” you admitted, deeply embarrassed. 

His jaw dropped. “You’ve never been kissed?” He asked despite himself. “Sorry, that sounded rude I-“

“It’s alright Oscar,” you shook your head. “I get what you mean.”

“No, I mean I’m just shocked, you’re so amazing and… yeah. It’s just surprising,” he chuckled. “I’m kind of honoured that I get to be the first.”

You chuckled. “Shut up.”

He chuckled. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, much too nervous to actually speak. He placed a hand on your cheek and leaned in, his lips softly meeting yours. 

And it felt good. It felt really good to kiss him. His other hand circled your waist as you tentatively placed your hands on either side of his face. When he pulled back you felt your heart stop once again. 

“You’re sure that was your first time?” He teased and you laughed. 

“Pretty sure,” you chuckled. 

“When can I see you again?” He asked, bashfully smiling.  

“I’ll be at the next race, or here,” you explained. “So whenever it works for you.”

“What about-”

“OSCAR?! You picked Oscar?!” Toto shouted, making both of you jump apart. “Absolutely not! Y/n get up here!” 

You sighed. “Text me about the date? Yeah?”

He nodded, laughing (trying to hide his terror of Toto) as he watched you go upstairs and start trying to explain to Toto.

⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[tuttle-did-it]

The tiny Harry Morgan (M*A*S*H, Dragnet) in Murder, She Wrote. He plays a character called Webb, which is funny because Jack Webb was the other main star on Dragnet.

What is really clever about this episode is that they used flashbacks of a film, Strange Bargain (1949) and Harry (as well as several other actors) reprise their roles from this film.

Also appearing is Gloria Stewart (Old Rose from Titanic, also known as the woman from the 'it's been 84 years' meme)

Murder She Wrote, season 3 episode 21, The Days Dwindle Down

[yeoldenews]

While we’re on the subject of names, is there an explanation for how traditional nicknames came about that are seemingly unrelated to, or have little in common with, the original name?

ie- John/Jack, Richard/Dick, Henry/Harry/Hank, Charles/Chuck, Margaret/Peggy/Daisy, Sarah/Sally, Mary/Molly, Anne/Nan, etc

I am actually over a week into researching a huge follow-up post (probably more than one if I’m being honest) about the history of nickname usage, so I will be going into this in much, much more detail at a hopefully not-so-later date - if I have not lost my mind. (Two days ago I spent three hours chasing down a source lead that turned out to be a typographical error from 1727 that was then quoted in source after source for the next 150 years.)

As a preview though, here’s some info about the names you mentioned:

The origins of a good portion of common English nicknames come down to the simple fact that people really, really like rhyming things. Will 🠞Bill, Rob🠞Bob, Rick🠞Dick, Meg🠞Peg.

It may seem like a weird reason, but how many of you have known an Anna/Hannah-Banana? I exclusively refer to my Mom’s cat as Toes even though her name is Moe (Moesie-Toesies 🠞 Toesies 🠞 Toes).

Jack likely evolved from the use of the Middle English diminutive suffix “-chen” - pronounced (and often spelled) “-kyn” or “kin”. The use of -chen as a diminutive suffix still endures in modern German - as in “liebchen” = sweetheart (lieb “love” + -chen).

John (Jan) 🠞 Jankin 🠞 Jackin 🠞 Jack.

Hank was also originally a nickname for John from the same source. I and J were not distinct letters in English until the 17th Century. “Iankin” would have been nearly indistinguishable in pronunciation from “Hankin” due to H-dropping. It’s believed to have switched over to being a nickname for Henry in early Colonial America due to the English being exposed to the Dutch nickname for Henrik - “Henk”.

Harry is thought to be a remnant of how Henry was pronounced up until the early modern era. The name was introduced to England during the Norman conquest as the French Henri (On-REE). The already muted nasal n was dropped in the English pronunciation. With a lack of standardized spelling, the two names were used interchangeably in records throughout the middle ages. So all the early English King Henrys would have written their name Henry and pronounced it Harry.

Sally and Molly likely developed simply because little kids can’t say R’s or L’s. Mary 🠞 Mawy 🠞 Molly. Sary 🠞 Sawy 🠞 Sally.

Daisy became a nickname for Margaret because in French garden daisies are called marguerites.

Nan for Anne is an example of a very cool linguistic process called rebracketing, where two words that are often said/written together transfer letters/morphemes over time. The English use of “an” instead of “a” before words beginning with vowels is a common cause of rebracketing. For example: the Middle English “an eute” became “a newt”, and “a napron” became “an apron”. In the case of nicknames the use of the archaic possessive “mine” is often the culprit. “Mine Anne” over time became “My Nan” as “mine” fell out of use. Ned and Nell have the same origin.

Oddly enough the word “nickname” is itself a result of rebracketing, from the Middle English “an eke (meaning additional) name”.

I realized earlier this week that my cat (Toe’s sister) also has a rebracketing nickname. Her name is Mina, but I call her Nom Nom - formed by me being very annoying and saying her name a bunch of time in a row - miNAMiNAMiNAM.

Chuck is a very modern (20th century) nickname which I’ll have to get back to you on as I started my research in the 16th century and am only up to the 1810s so far lol.

[rockpaperscissuhs]

Band of Brothers Birthdays

January

1 John S. Zielinski Jr. (b. 1925)

21 Richard D. “Dick” Winters (b. 1918)

26 Herbert M. Sobel (b. 1912)

30 Clifford Carwood "Lip" Lipton (b. 1920)

31 Warren H. “Skip” Muck (b. 1922) & Robert B. Brewer (b. 1924)

February

8 Clarence R. Hester (b. 1916)

18 Thomas A. Peacock (b. 1920)

23 Lester A. “Les” Hashey (b. 1925)

March

1 Charles E. “Chuck” Grant (b. 1922)

2 Colonel Robert L. “Bob” Strayer (b. 1910)

4 Wayne “Skinny” Sisk (b. 1922)

10 Frank J. Perconte (b. 1917)

13 Darrell C. “Shifty” Powers (b. 1923)

14 Joseph J. “Joe” Toye (b. 1919)

24 John D. “Cowboy” Halls (b. 1922)

26 George Lavenson (b. 1917) & George H. Smith Jr. (1922)

27 Gerald J. Loraine (b. 1913)

April

3 Colonel Robert F. “Bob” Sink (b. 1905) & Patrick S. “Patty” O’Keefe (b. 1926)

5 John T. “Johnny” Julian (b. 1924)

10 Renée B. E. Lemaire (b. 1914)

11 James W. Miller (b. 1924)

15 Walter S. “Smokey” Gordon Jr. (b. 1920)

20 Ronald C. “Sparky” Speirs (b. 1920)

23 Alton M. More (b. 1920)

27 Earl E. “One Lung” McClung (b. 1923) & Henry S. “Hank” Jones Jr. (b. 1924)

28 William J. “Wild Bill” Guarnere (b. 1923)

May

12 John W. “Johnny” Martin (b. 1922)

16 Edward J. “Babe” Heffron (b. 1923)

17 Joseph D. “Joe” Liebgott (b. 1915)

19 Norman S. Dike Jr. (b. 1918) & Cleveland O. Petty (b. 1924)

25 Albert L. "Al" Mampre (b. 1922)

June

2 David K. "Web" Webster (b. 1922)

6 Augusta M. Chiwy ("Anna") (b. 1921)

13 Edward D. Shames (b. 1922)

17 George Luz (b. 1921)

18 Roy W. Cobb (b. 1914)

23 Frederick T. “Moose” Heyliger (b. 1916)

25 Albert Blithe (b. 1923)

28 Donald B. "Hoob" Hoobler (b. 1922)

July

2 Gen. Anthony C. "Nuts" McAuliffe (b. 1898)

7 Francis J. “Frank” Mellet (b. 1920)

8 Thomas Meehan III (b. 1921)

9 John A. Janovec (b. 1925)

10 Robert E. “Popeye” Wynn (b. 1921)

16 William S. Evans (b. 1910)

20 James H. “Moe” Alley Jr. (b. 1922)

23 Burton P. “Pat” Christenson (b. 1922)

29 Eugene E. Jackson (b. 1922)

31 Donald G. "Don" Malarkey (b. 1921)

August

3 Edward J. “Ed” Tipper (b. 1921)

10 Allen E. Vest (b. 1924)

15 Kenneth J. Webb (b. 1920)

18 Jack E. Foley (b. 1922)

26 Floyd M. “Tab” Talbert (b. 1923) & General Maxwell D. Taylor (b. 1901)

29 Joseph A. Lesniewski (b. 1920)

31 Alex M. Penkala Jr. (b. 1924)

September

3 William H. Dukeman Jr. (b. 1921)

11 Harold D. Webb (b. 1925)

12 Major Oliver M. Horton (b. 1912)

27 Harry F. Welsh (b. 1918)

30 Lewis “Nix” Nixon III (b. 1918)

October

5 Joseph “Joe” Ramirez (b. 1921) & Ralph F. “Doc” Spina (b. 1919) & Terrence C. "Salty" Harris (b. 1920)

6 Leo D. Boyle (b. 1913)

10 William F. “Bill” Kiehn (b. 1921)

15 Antonio C. “Tony” Garcia (b. 1924)

17 Eugene G. "Doc" Roe (b. 1922)

21 Lt. Cl. David T. Dobie (b. 1912)

28 Herbert J. Suerth Jr. (b. 1924)

31 Robert "Bob" van Klinken (b. 1919)

November

11 Myron N. “Mike” Ranney (b. 1922)

20 Denver “Bull” Randleman (b. 1920)

December

12 John “Jack” McGrath (b. 1919)

31 Lynn D. “Buck” Compton (b. 1921)

Unknown Date

Joseph P. Domingus

Richard J. Hughes (b. 1925)

Maj. Louis Kent

Father John Mahoney

George C. Rice

SOURCES

Military History Fandom Wiki

Band of Brothers Fandom Wiki

Traces of War

Find a Grave

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's Slasher Fictober Apple Crumble NSFW Alphabets Day 18: Harry Warden

Day 18 coming right up! As always I hope you all enjoy <3, I will be honest though and say it has been forever since I've actually watched my bloody valentine so I'll try my best to do harry justice here.

Notes: Minors DNI, Smut, NSFW.

A is for Aftercare (What they're like after sex):

Soft baby boy. Checks on you multiple times and makes sure you have anything and everything you need. A bath? done, A drink ? done, A snack ? done. Literally ask for anything and this man will run to the store if you don't have it at the house.

B is for Body Part (Favorite on them and their partner):

After years of working in the mines, Harry is pretty fit. I could see his favorite part of himself being a tie between his chest and his arms as both show all his years of hard work to put food on the table.

On you it's your smile, Harry's been through a lot, but with you he feels like he's at home. Your smile brings a comfort to him he hasn't experienced in forever.

C is for Cum (Anything to do with cum):

Harry wants babies (If you have the equipment to make them) so always inside you. If you can't get pregnant he'll probably still cum inside just to avoid a big mess to clean but if he does make a mess it'll be a cold day in hell before he lets you clean it.

D is for Dirty Secret:

If he could get away with it, He'd lock you up in the house and never let you leave. The people outside, the ones who let him sit in that mine and almost die, don't deserve to see you or have you in their presence. Your his baby and he wants you all to himself.

E is for Experience (How experienced are they?):

Harry... isn't the most experienced person. You might have to help him along the first few times. He knows what goes where, and how to make you feel good, But in the actual sex department he's a bit lacking.

F is for Favorite Position:

Even though he hasn't had the most experience Harry fucks like a dog. Doggy style is his favorite by far. He likes bringing you to your hands and knees for him. Knowing he can do that to you and no one else can thrills him.

G is for Goofy (How serious are they?):

He isn't the most serious but he's not really goofy either? He's more so just really soft and fluffy during sex.

H is for Hair (How well groomed are they?):

It's a bit unruly since during his time in the minds he kinda lost the will to care for himself, so you might have to remind him to continue with the upkeep of it. If it gets too bad he takes care of it without reminder but don't be surprised if it slips his mind.

I is for Intimacy (How are they during the act, romantic etc):

Very romantic, He's all about wining and dining you. He's really into foreplay just to get the two of you in the mood but its the most tooth rotting foreplay you'll ever experience.

J is for Jackoff (Do they masturbate and how often?):

He does it every so often. If you were with him when the mine accident happen then he definitely jacked off to the thought of you in the mines to keep himself somewhat sane.

K is for Kink (Their kinks):

Praise kink: Tell this boy he's doing a good job and he'll cum on the spot whether he's inside you or not. You've made him cum in his pants more then once with this.

L is for Location (Favorite places to have sex):

At home in the bedroom. Like I said your his, he doesn't want anyone that isn't him looking at you in any type of way. He would have to end them if they did and he doesn't wanna have to be killing people 24/7.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on?):

The thought of wanting nothing more then to please you is what gets him going the most. He aims to please and wants you to be as satisfied as possible.

N is for No (Something they won't do):

No degrading you, No hitting you or even being mean. He's just not into it and would never even think about hurting you even if it was for fun during sex.

O is for Oral (Oral Preferences):

Major giver. He'll let you give him a blow job here and there but he loves giving you oral. If you ask him what he wants to eat nine times out of ten the answer will be you.

P is for Pace (How fast or slow? Are they rough?):

Slow and sensual all the way. He'll get a bit rough when he gets desperate but he wants to make love and make the most of it.

Q is for Quickie ( Do they like quickies?):

He hates quickies. Why would he go for a quickie when he can give you the actual real full fledged thing. If you like them that's fine but don't expect him to like them.

R is for Risk (Are they down to experiment?):

He'll experiment within reason, Like if it's something that may hurt you or anything, it's a hard no. However if you bring something up he finds interesting then he'll be down to try it out with you.

S if for Stamina (How long can they go for?):

This man used to be a miner, he has all the stamina in the world from doing that for years. He will give you breaks and stop after awhile but he could literally go for hours on end.

T is for Toys (Do they use toys and do they like them?):

He doesn't have much experience when it comes to toys so if you bring up one night you'd like to try them he's all for it. He might not like every single toy but there are a few he does really like and a lot that he loves to use on you.

U if for Unfair (Do they like to tease?):

He thinks teasing is mean, and he's not about to be mean to his baby. If you wanna tease him just a bit to get him worked up then go for it he doesn't mind but don't be too terribly mean to him just some playful teasing.

V is for Volume (How loud can they get?):

He grunts but that's about it, Harry isn't a big noise maker in general and he doesn't talk much either so don't expect sex to be any different.

W is for Wild Card (Random things):

Soft Harry is soft, he loves cuddles and really anything where he can just hang out with you. So after he runs your aftercare bath expect him to sit on the toilet and have him just hang out with you, no talking, just you and him being together.

X is for X-Ray (What are they packing):

Harry's got a big thick dick, About 8 inches and a good amount of girth to it.

Y is for Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):

High as fuck but only for you. He's never felt this way about anyone before and as far as he's concerned the sun rises and sets with you and so does his sex drive.

Z is for ZZZ (How fast do they fall asleep?):

He waits awhile. He likes to make sure your entirely ok before even thinking about sleeping. He also likes to cuddle and just hold you for awhile too. If you had any doubts of his feelings for you, you won't after this.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 7 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, medical stuff (an ultrasound), lots of happy and fluffy feelings

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

July 1999

It’s one of those sweltering summer days where the air conditioning can never be cold enough. The room could be at subarctic temperatures, and perspiration would still trickle down your spine and in the space between your breasts.

Your husband hasn’t gotten the memo.

“Eddie,” you grumble, scowling down at where he’s laying atop your stomach. You peel your body from the back of the sofa in an attempt to sit up. “It’s too damn hot for cuddling.”

He pouts, doubling down and draping a tattooed arm over your midsection. “But I’m trying to bond with the baby,” Eddie laments, a slight whine lacing his tone. He’s at least able to lounge around the apartment without a shirt, but you don’t have that luxury. Your tank top clings to your torso like a second skin.

“You can bond when this heat wave breaks. Get up.”

“Fine, fine.” He shifts positions, stretching and exposing the sweat-tinged tufts of hair under his arms. He gives your bump once last rub. “We’ll talk again once the temperature’s back in the double-digits, Baby Munson.”

You stand up, grateful that you aren’t so pregnant and can still lift yourself from a sitting position. “We have to leave for the ultrasound in a few minutes,” you gently remind him. “Is the Big Brother ready to go?”

Eddie chuckles, padding over to the bedroom and shrugging a white t-shirt over his head. “Are you kidding? He’s been awake and fully dressed since the crack of dawn.” It’s all that Harris has been talking about since you’d asked him if he wanted to come and find out if the baby is a boy or a girl. Eddie steps into a pair of jeans, nearly falling over as he tries to maintain his balance. “Har! We’re leaving soon!”

Harris scampers out of his room, jumping with such enthusiasm that you can hardly make out the text on his shirt that boasts, ‘PROUD BIG BRO.’ “Let’s go!” he insists, taking your hand in his and tugging you towards the door. 

“Dad still needs to put his shoes on,” you say through a laugh. “We can’t go without him.”

He sighs impatiently, shoulders drooping as he turns to his father. “Come on; we gotta see if I’m gonna have a brother or sister!”

“Okay, alright. Jesus H, can’t a man zip up his fly without being berated around here?”

“This might be a bit cold.”

You smile, laying back with your shirt hiked up just beneath your breasts and a thin paper towel tucked into the stretchy waistband of your shorts. The ultrasound technician shakes the bottle of gel and squirts it onto your bare stomach. It comes out with the air that’s trapped inside, making a pfft sound that sends both Harris and Eddie into hysterics.

“Boys!” you hiss. “Behave yourselves. Especially you,” you add pointedly, looking directly at your husband.

His cheeks redden in embarrassment, mouthing sorry, but you can see him stifling another laugh when the bottle makes the same sound again.

A pulsing beat fills the room as the technician slides the wand across your belly. “That’s one strong heartbeat,” she announces, and Harris’s eyes widen in realization.

“That’s the baby’s heartbeat?” He glances between you and Eddie, jack-o-lantern grin splitting his face. “That’s so cool!”

Eddie gestures towards the screen as the black-and-white image becomes clearer. “Look, there’s the nose and the mouth,” he says to Harris, pulling him close to his side and hugging him. 

The technician takes a quick snapshot of the baby’s profile before moving on to the tiny arms and legs and snapping another. Everyone is staring and waiting for her to announce the sex.

“Um, excuse me?” Harris raises his hand timidly as though he’s in school, taking to heart an earlier conversation about using his manners in the doctor’s office. “Are you gonna tell us if I’m getting a brother or a sister?”

The technician laughs kindly, carefully adjusting the wand’s positioning. “Let’s see…” she starts, pinching her thin brows together as she examines the anatomy. “Well, Mr. Harris, it looks like you’re going to have a little brother!”

Etiquette is swiftly tossed aside as Harris breaks free of his dad’s grasp, jumping up and down until he’s almost breathless. “I’m getting a brother! I’m getting a brother!” 

“Another boy,” Eddie muses, squeezing your hand. “No tying the score for ya, Sweetheart. Sorry.” He kisses your forehead and chuckles softly. “The Munson men remain triumphant!”

Your mouth is dropped open in a small o, still in disbelief. You’re going to have a baby boy, a little blend of you and Eddie. Though the swell of your bump should have been evidence enough of the life growing within you, the knowledge that your unborn child is a little boy makes it so real.

All you can manage is a soft, “Oh, my God,” any other words failing you. You let your hand rest on a part of your stomach not slick with gel, blinking away the shininess coating your eyes so you can look at your husband. “Eds…we’re having a boy.”

“Are you happy?” His voice is laced with worry, mind flooded with tidbits about mothers wanting daughters. 

His fears dispel as soon as your lips curl upwards into the most genuine smile he’s ever seen. “So happy. We’ll have our big kid boy,” your gaze flits towards Harris, “and our little baby boy. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.” 

Eddie’s lips swoop down to kiss you, nose brushing yours. “I love you, and you,” he kisses your bump, “and you.” He plants a smacking smooch on Harris’s scalp, which is promptly met with a look of disgust.

Harris scratches at the spot his dad just kissed and points to your belly. “Does he have a name yet?”

“Not yet,” you admit. You and Eddie have thrown around a few options, but none have stuck. “We can call him Baby Brother until we figure it out. How’s that?”

“Okay.” He places a hesitant palm on your stomach. “Hi, Baby Brother. My name’s Harris. I’m your big brother, and when you’re out of Mommy’s tummy, we’re gonna play together all the time.”

You run a hand through his seemingly always-tangled curls. “I bet he’ll love that, Har. You’ll be the best big brother.”

The ultrasound technician wipes the remaining jelly from your torso, and you adjust your clothes and stand up. “The doctor will be in just to confirm that everything is progressing well; in the meantime, I’ll print off the pictures,” she says, adding, “you have such a beautiful family.” 

Her comment lingers even on the car ride home as Harris suggests baby names that get increasingly bizarre, your personal favorite being ‘Squidward Munson.’ A beautiful family. Your thumb grazes over the matte sonogram; all of the printed information is yours, but it’s still so surreal. 

“We’re framing the one that says ‘it’s a boy,” Eddie declares from the driver’s seat, flicking on his indicator as he turns into the apartment complex’s parking lot. He lowers his voice and teasingly asks, “You’re okay with being outnumbered?”

And maybe you’ll regret your answer when Baby Brother grows up and is belching at the dinner table, or making farting noises with his armpits, or contributing to Harris’s (and Eddie’s) collection of toilet humor, but you doubt that even boy-levels of grossness will change your mind.

“I can't wait.”

--

[blackwoolncrown]

Reading list for Afro-Herbalism:

A Healing Grove: African Tree Remedies and Rituals for the Body and Spirit by Stephanie Rose Bird

Affrilachia: Poems by Frank X Walker

African American Medicine in Washington, D.C.: Healing the Capital During the Civil War Era by Heather Butts

African American Midwifery in the South: Dialogues of Birth, Race, and Memory by Gertrude Jacinta Fraser

African American Slave Medicine: Herbal and Non-Herbal Treatments by Herbert Covey

African Ethnobotany in the Americas edited by Robert Voeks and John Rashford

Africanisms in the Gullah Dialect by Lorenzo Dow Turner

Africans and Native Americans: The Language of Race and the Evolution of Red-Black Peoples by Jack Forbes

African Medicine: A Complete Guide to Yoruba Healing Science and African Herbal Remedies by Dr. Tariq M. Sawandi, PhD

Afro-Vegan: Farm-Fresh, African, Caribbean, and Southern Flavors Remixed by Bryant Terry

Barracoon: The Story of the Last “Black Cargo” by Zora Neale Hurston

Big Mama’s Back in the Kitchen by Charlene Johnson

Big Mama’s Old Black Pot by Ethel Dixon

Black Belief: Folk Beliefs of Blacks in America and West Africa by Henry H. Mitchell

Black Diamonds, Vol. 1 No. 1 and Vol. 1 Nos. 2–3 edited by Edward J. Cabbell

Black Faces, White Spaces: Reimagining the Relationship of African Americans to the Great Outdoors by Carolyn Finney

Black Food Geographies: Race, Self-Reliance, and Food Access in Washington, D.C. by Ashanté M. Reese

Black Indian Slave Narratives edited by Patrick Minges

Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau

Black Nature: Four Centuries of African American Nature Poetry edited by Camille T. Dungy

Blacks in Appalachia edited by William Turner and Edward J. Cabbell

Caribbean Vegan: Meat-Free, Egg-Free, Dairy-Free Authentic Island Cuisine for Every Occasion by Taymer Mason

Dreams of Africa in Alabama: The Slave Ship Clotilda and the Story of the Last Africans Brought to America by Sylviane Diouf

Faith, Health, and Healing in African American Life by Emilie Townes and Stephanie Y. Mitchem

Farming While Black: Soul Fire Farm’s Practical Guide to Liberation on the Land by Leah Penniman

Folk Wisdom and Mother Wit: John Lee – An African American Herbal Healer by John Lee and Arvilla Payne-Jackson

Four Seasons of Mojo: An Herbal Guide to Natural Living by Stephanie Rose Bird

Freedom Farmers: Agricultural Resistance and the Black Freedom Movement by Monica White

Fruits of the Harvest: Recipes to Celebrate Kwanzaa and Other Holidays by Eric Copage

George Washington Carver by Tonya Bolden

George Washington Carver: In His Own Words edited by Gary Kremer

God, Dr. Buzzard, and the Bolito Man: A Saltwater Geechee Talks About Life on Sapelo Island, Georgia by Cornelia Bailey

Gone Home: Race and Roots through Appalachia by Karida Brown

Ethno-Botany of the Black Americans by William Ed Grime

Gullah Cuisine: By Land and by Sea by Charlotte Jenkins and William Baldwin

Gullah Culture in America by Emory Shaw Campbell and Wilbur Cross

Gullah/Geechee: Africa’s Seeds in the Winds of the Diaspora-St. Helena’s Serenity by Queen Quet Marquetta Goodwine

High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America by Jessica Harris and Maya Angelou

Homecoming: The Story of African-American Farmers by Charlene Gilbert

Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell

Jambalaya: The Natural Woman’s Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisah Teish

Just Medicine: A Cure for Racial Inequality in American Health Care by Dayna Bowen Matthew

Leaves of Green: A Handbook of Herbal Remedies by Maude E. Scott

Like a Weaving: References and Resources on Black Appalachians by Edward J. Cabbell

Listen to Me Good: The Story of an Alabama Midwife by Margaret Charles Smith and Linda Janet Holmes

Making Gullah: A History of Sapelo Islanders, Race, and the American Imagination by Melissa Cooper

Mandy’s Favorite Louisiana Recipes by Natalie V. Scott

Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present by Harriet Washington

Mojo Workin’: The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald

Motherwit: An Alabama Midwife’s Story by Onnie Lee Logan as told to Katherine Clark

My Bag Was Always Packed: The Life and Times of a Virginia Midwife by Claudine Curry Smith and Mildred Hopkins Baker Roberson

My Face Is Black Is True: Callie House and the Struggle for Ex-Slave Reparations by Mary Frances Berry

My Grandmother's Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menakem

On Her Own Ground: The Life and Times of Madam C.J. Walker by A'Lelia Bundles

Papa Jim’s Herbal Magic Workbook by Papa Jim

Places for the Spirit: Traditional African American Gardens by Vaughn Sills (Photographer), Hilton Als (Foreword), Lowry Pei (Introduction)

Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome by Dr. Joy DeGruy

Rooted in the Earth: Reclaiming the African American Environmental Heritage by Diane Glave

Rufus Estes’ Good Things to Eat: The First Cookbook by an African-American Chef by Rufus Estes

Secret Doctors: Ethnomedicine of African Americans by Wonda Fontenot

Sex, Sickness, and Slavery: Illness in the Antebellum South by Marli Weiner with Mayzie Hough

Slavery’s Exiles: The Story of the American Maroons by Sylviane Diouf

Soul Food: The Surprising Story of an American Cuisine, One Plate at a Time by Adrian Miller

Spirituality and the Black Helping Tradition in Social Work by Elmer P. Martin Jr. and Joanne Mitchell Martin

Sticks, Stones, Roots & Bones: Hoodoo, Mojo & Conjuring with Herbs by Stephanie Rose Bird

The African-American Heritage Cookbook: Traditional Recipes and Fond Remembrances from Alabama’s Renowned Tuskegee Institute by Carolyn Quick Tillery

The Black Family Reunion Cookbook (Recipes and Food Memories from the National Council of Negro Women) edited by Libby Clark

The Conjure Woman and Other Conjure Tales by Charles Chesnutt

The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man’s Love Affair with Nature by J. Drew Lanham

The Jemima Code: Two Centuries of African American Cookbooks by Toni Tipton-Martin

The President’s Kitchen Cabinet: The Story of the African Americans Who Have Fed Our First Families, from the Washingtons to the Obamas by Adrian Miller

The Taste of Country Cooking: The 30th Anniversary Edition of a Great Classic Southern Cookbook by Edna Lewis

The Tuskegee Syphilis Study: An Insiders’ Account of the Shocking Medical Experiment Conducted by Government Doctors Against African American Men by Fred D. Gray

Trace: Memory, History, Race, and the American Landscape by Lauret E. Savoy

Vegan Soul Kitchen: Fresh, Healthy, and Creative African-American Cuisine by Bryant Terry

Vibration Cooking: Or, The Travel Notes of a Geechee Girl by Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor

Voodoo and Hoodoo: The Craft as Revealed by Traditional Practitioners by Jim Haskins

When Roots Die: Endangered Traditions on the Sea Islands by Patricia Jones-Jackson

Working Conjure: A Guide to Hoodoo Folk Magic by Hoodoo Sen Moise

Working the Roots: Over 400 Years of Traditional African American Healing by Michelle Lee

Wurkn Dem Rootz: Ancestral Hoodoo by Medicine Man

Zora Neale Hurston: Folklore, Memoirs, and Other Writings: Mules and Men, Tell My Horse, Dust Tracks on a Road, Selected Articles by Zora Neale Hurston

The Ways of Herbalism in the African World with Olatokunboh Obasi MSc, RH (webinar via The American Herbalists Guild)

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

Obsession Part II

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: older!H, age gap romance

Y/N has been on edge waiting to hear from Harry. She’s decided to let him come to her so she doesn’t text him first. But the wait is proving more difficult than she imagined. Every time her phone buzzes, she jumps, scrambling to see if he’s deigned to grace her with a text. But it’s never him. And to be fair, Y/N is being slightly dramatic because it’s only been 3 days. But still. Her mind is consumed with the memory of his lips on hers and the way his body pressed against her own. Then she lets her mind wander to fantasies. Of what might have happened if Isla hadn’t decided to come home at that very moment. A fantasy of Harry on his knees before her has her clenching in her seat and it’s then she knows that the image… the slight obsession has gotten out of hand. Because she’s in public in a coffee shop and she’s 90% sure that if she’d continued her daydream she would have moaned out loud. 

“Y/N? You ok?” Jack waves a hand in front of her face and she jumps slightly. 

“I’m… fine. Just thinking, sorry.”

“You’re looking pretty pale. Are you sure you’re- Isla! Hi! What are you doing here?”

Y/N jumps at the sound of the girls name, spinning in her chair to find Isla Styles behind her. 

“Hi Jack, hey Y/N. Dad and I are just grabbing a coffee before we head back home. Are you still picking me up tonight Jack?”

At the realisation that Harry is in the same coffee shop, Y/N freezes, her eyes frantically scanning the space until she spots him in line ordering for both him and Isla. He looks so… good. His curls fall in a mess at his forehead and Y/N feels the urge to walk closer and run her fingers through them. Harry’s sunglasses sit snugly atop his head even though there isn’t any sun to be seen outside. He pays, moving to the side to wait for their drinks, before he takes out his phone to pass the time. Y/N simply can’t help herself.

(10:18am) Y/N: Looking pretty handsome over there stranger x

She watches as he reads it, a look of confusion taking over his features before he grins, lifting his head to look around. His smirk widens as he locks eyes with her and Y/N swallows. Eye contact with Harry is exhilarating. There’s something about the way that his green eyes stare so fiercely into hers that take her breath away. There’s something else there too… lust, Y/N thinks but it’s too early to know for sure. So she simply offers him the sweetest smile she can manage before dipping her head back down to focus on her drink. He can come to her if he likes. Jack and Isla are still caught up in their conversation, oblivious as to what is happening between the two. 

Y/N plays with the paper that once made up her straw as it begins disintegrating at the bottom. She’s still focused on it, when the air shifts and she just knows he’s standing in front of her.

“Y/N. Nice to see you, what a surprise.” Harry stands in front of them all, holding two drinks. One is a sugar coma inducing whipped cream mountain with caramel sauce that he swiftly passes to Isla and the other is… black coffee. 

“Black coffee? Pretty basic don’t you think Styles?” Y/N looks up at him 

“What can I say? I like the classics.” He sends her a knowing smile and Y/N fights the blush that threatens to creep onto her cheeks. 

“Y/N? Is it alright if Isla and I actually head out earlier than planned? I didn’t realise she would be here, so we can make the most of the day.” Jack asks. 

“Dad is that ok?” Isla turns to Harry, who shrugs.

“Sorry Jack but if you take the car now, I won’t be able to get home. You’ll have to pick Isla up later.” Y/N says to Jack who rolls his eyes before muttering a ‘sorry’ to Isla.

“I can drop you home if these two want to head out?” Harry offers.

“Ok sorted, thanks Mr Styles. We’ll be back later.” Jack takes Isla’s hand and all but drags her out of the coffee shop.

“Hold on Jack wait-“ Y/N calls out, but they’re gone. She shakes her head and Harry chuckles.

“What? Don’t want to be alone with me?” 

“No… It isn’t that. We just live out of your way. Sorry you’re stuck driving me home.” Y/N looks back down at her straw, which is now an unusable pile of wet paper. 

“Here.” Harry passes her a new one out of his coat pocket. “And it’s not a problem. Maybe we can use this time to have that chat.”

“Do you just carry straws around?” “No… I saw yours basically breaking down from across the room so I grabbed you a new one when I was at the counter.”

“That’s… sweet.” 

Harry hums in acknowledgement. 

“So, you want to chat?” Y/N asks, breaking the silence.

“Mmm. Not here. Let’s go.”

He places a hand at her lower back as they move to leave the coffee shop and Y/N feels tingles run down her spine. His touch is warm and comforting, even through her clothes and she leans into it, just the smallest bit. But Harry notices, his small smirk hidden under the loop of the scarf around his neck. 

The ride back to Y/N’s place is silent, the low murmur of Fleetwood Mac playing through the speaker in Harry’s car. Y/N is nervous and another emotion she doesn’t quite know how to describe. She doesn’t really know why. It’s just two people talking. Isn’t it? Harry seems to know how she feels as one of his hands rests softly on her knee as he drives. Y/N decides she likes it when he touches her. She wishes he would do it more often. 

Y/N busies herself with making two cups of tea, before sitting opposite to Harry on her couch. 

“I wanted this to be over dinner.” Harry confesses, breaking the silence. 

“I know.” 

It’s silent again.

“What are we doing Y/N?” His eyes search hers for the answers to a question that neither of them know the answer to.

“I’m… I’m not sure.”

“Because there’s something here. This… magnetic attraction. I feel like I’m being pulled to you. I think about you constantly. I want to know what it would feel like to kiss you again. I want to know what it would sound like to hear you scream my name. I can’t make it stop. I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s consuming me.”

“You never texted me.”

“I know. I didn’t know what to say. This is so… real. But you’re so young, I don’t know how to handle that.”

“I don’t think my age has anything to do with it. We obviously connect in ways that aren’t just physical. I don’t have a problem with it and neither should you. If we’re going to do this we need to trust each other Harry. Ok?” She moves closer and Harry takes a breath. He shifts so their faces are inches apart.

“Ok. What do we tell Jack and Isla?”

“We don’t. Not unless this is definitely going somewhere.”

“So you’re my secret?” He smirks, cupping her cheek. “We’re each others.”

Y/N inches forward, moulding her lips to his and Harry groans at the electricity that sparks between them. He pulls her onto his lap, revelling in the feeling of her body pressed up against his chest. His hand trails slowly up her top before he pulls away slightly. Y/N grumbles in annoyance, moving to chase his lips with her own. 

“Relax love. We have time. Is this ok?” He motions to his hand beneath her shirt and Y/N nods desperately. 

“You don’t have to ask, do whatever you want to me, just do something.”

Harry’s lips curl into a mischievous grin as his hand finds the material of her bra. 

“Consent is important darling. And you shouldn’t say things like that, or I really will take advantage. Oh… the things I want to do to you.”

His lust filled expression makes Y/N squirm in his lap as she silently begs him to keep touching her. Then… his phone rings.

The loud disturbance shocks them both out of their haze and Y/N climbs off Harry’s lap so he can reach his phone. He takes one look at the screen and his face goes cold, emotionless. He stares at the screen for a short while, as though he’s contemplating letting it ring, before standing quickly and grabbing his jacket. 

“Sorry Y/N, we’re going to need to cut this short, I have to take this and handle some things.”

“Cut this short…? Harry I’m not your business partner. This isn’t-“

“Y/N, I don’t really have time to talk to you about what we are and what we’re not. I have to go, I’ll text you.” His voice is stern and Y/N flinches at his tone. 

He presses a swift, barely there kiss to her cheek before racing to the door, tapping frantically at his screen as he calls the number back

“I told you not to fucking call me anymore. I can’t be…” Y/N listens to his voice fade into the distance as he walks away from the house, shutting the door behind him with a slam. 

A/N: It's been a ridiculously long time - I have no excuse I'm sorry lol

Tags: @lukesaprince @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge @lomlhstyles @opheliaofficial07 @behindmygreyeyes @gem1712 @stylesmoonlight12 @babyiamperfectforyou

@velvetballaspark @harrys-flower @macy-tpwk

@mema10 @intimacywithceline @jerseygirlinca

@daphnesutton @rafaaoli @allthelovehes @lovrave

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @namelesssav @hsonlyangelxo @smartcookee @myfavfanficsever

[mydearesthrry]

hey love, im absolutely in love w your writing and wanted to ask if you could write something about harry asking reader/(y/n) out? maybe he’s super nervous cause he’s been crushing on her for awhile <3

obvious - h.s.

a/n: thank you for the request, lovie! this got a little messy but i hope i lived up to your wishes a little. enjoyyyy <3

🎀 warnings/cw: nothing, fluff ofc, harry being a little nervy boy

🐇 pairing: actress!reader x harry styles

💐 wc: 1.1k

summary: y/n thought she was being so obvious- looks like she was wrong.

“You look incredible,” Harry mutters, eyes trying to stray off of his script in an attempt to memorize it for the scene the next day. “I’ve been thinking we should try something crazy…” He pauses, trying to let the scene play out as accurately as possible. “Let’s have a baby.” 

A few beats pass. “What?” YN follows, a bewildered look in her eyes. Harry just smiles, eyes flicking down at his script, nodding when he remembered his line. 

“I mean, not right this second, obviously, we don’t have time. But…” Throwing the words around in his head, trying to ignore his chest squeezing at how accurate his next words were in reference to her, “I love you, and I want more of you, and now I think I want a little you. I don’t know. It’d be an adventure.”

Their eyes catch each other, and they share a look that they both couldn’t explain even meant. YN dropped her gaze first before clearing her throat and shifting on the sofa. “Yeah, that was great, H. I think we’ll do well tomorrow.” 

Harry sniffed and looked down at his script, flipping back to the title page. “Um– yeah, we will.” 

Fuck. Harry thought. His hands kept fidgeting, left leg bouncing up and down. He wasn’t even anxious, per se, but he felt so incredibly nervous because of the pretty angel sitting next to him. He’d been pining over her since he was a teenager, watching all of her movies the day they came out, and listening to all of the tracks that she’d sung on every soundtrack. He even went on a spontaneous trip with the boys when they were in New York just to see her perform on Broadway. 

So safe to say, when he got the call back that he’d gotten the role of Jack Chambers in Don’t Worry Darling, he was doing somersaults when he found out who his on screen wife would be. It felt crazy to him that his dreams from when he was in tenth year had finally come to fruition— kind of. The two had a weird relationship at first, YN being extremely closed off and standoffish at the beginning, but she slowly let Harry break down her cemented walls that she’s had up for so long. She didn’t know why, but for some reason, Harry was one of the only people that she allowed to get to know her– fully, at least. 

“Okay, pretty boy, it’s getting pretty late, and I have an earlier call time tomorrow than you do, so I think I’m gonna head out now.” Standing up, she brushed off the front of her gray sweatpants, showing up to Harry’s flat in the most comfortable clothes possible since she knew she would be there for a while. She picked up their now empty wine glasses, them having shared a glass or two throughout the course of the night. 

Harry didn’t give any response and an awkward silence filled the air, almost suffocating as YN stared at Harry in confusion. “H?” 

Nothing. 

Harry was lost in his thoughts, seemingly. I need to do it now, but what if she says no! What if I’ve been misreading her this entire time and she’s just being nice? But that wouldn’t even make sense, would it? She’s been picking up what I’ve been putting down… I think? Has she? Fuck… Wait, wait what? Is she leaving? Why’s she slipping her shoes on?

“Wait,” Harry managed to choke out, YN halting her movements immediately. “Don’t– um, don’t leave, please? Come sit down, I wanna… I wanna ask y’something.” 

Fuck, he was really doing this. 

“Been trying to tell you that I’m leaving for like, ten minutes now, Babe.” She laughed, toeing her shoe off, dropping the other one she had in her hand onto the floor. 

“What’s up? What’s the matter?” She traced his face with her eyes, clocking his distant look that was written all over his face. 

“Bug, have t’tell y’something, but if I’m wrong, y’have to tell me, promise?” Harry mumbled, eyes flicking down to his hands where he was fidgeting with his ringless fingers. His rings were in a velvety cinched bag that YN, of course, had gotten him at a little thrift shop they found. 

“Promise, babe. Now, what is it, is everything okay?” She gripped the bottom of his chin in an attempt to get him to look at her. It began reminding her of the scene they filmed earlier of their characters in the living room in a very vulnerable state. 

He was too nervous to say his next words to even realize she'd called him babe. “I… I- um- I don’t want this t’ruin our relationship, but I have t’tell y’cause it’s been basically eating at me, but I… I really like y’and I want nothing more than t’take y’out on a date. But, if y’don’t feel the same don’t worry! I jus’ didn’t want to not tell y’and ruin our friendship or anything, even though now I fear I’ve made it wors-” 

“Oh my God,” She cut him off, giggles that soon turned into full on cackles filling the air. He watched her in fear, a worried look now on his face at the thought that she was laughing at him. “Harry, sweet boy, I would love to go out with you.” 

“I- you- wha- what? I… I don’t think I understand?” He stumbled, her actions and words not adding up in his YN clouded brain. 

“I thought I was being so obvious about how I felt about you, H. Sorry for not being more clear, that’s on me. Is this why you’ve been so distant and weird with me lately? You’ve been acting like this just ‘cause you have a crush on me?” She tried to understand, but by the look on his face she could see that he was really not getting what was even happening right now. “Babe, I’ve liked you since I watched you in the crowd of the first AMA’s you went to. I didn’t even get to meet you, but I’ve liked you since I’ve seen you, and it honestly’s gotten worse since I have to pretend to be your wife on screen.” 

Harry was bewildered. “So, y’telling me, that all this time I’ve just had to ask? Instead of torturing myself every night?” 

“Yeah, bug, that’s what ‘M telling you,” She giggled, moving closer to him on the couch. “We’re doing this backward, I think. How’s it that I’ve had your literal tongue in my mouth before you’ve even taken me out on a date?” 

“Well, when you put it that way!” He laughs, pulling her onto his lap like he’s always wanted and waited to do. They sat in silence for a few beats, letting their eyes roam around their faces without worrying about the director yelling 'Cut!'.

“What’re you waiting for? Gonna ask me out officially?” She whispered, moving her face closer to Harry, them being able to now feel their breaths waft between them. 

“Nah, gonna kiss y’first, officially as us, and not as Jack and Alice.” Harry mumbled.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

And when their lips finally touched as Y/N and Harry, the teenage boy in Harry was practically doing backflips and somersaults, knowing that his dreams had finally come true.

[softspeirs]

Steer Clear

A/N: Here we are, kids. This OC came to me out of nowhere. I had no plans to write anything for Ev Blakely, but once I started thinking about it, I couldn't stop. Meet Marie.

It was an innocuous request, in his mind. Hey, Fernandez. Run these messages to the Colonel on your way?

She had frozen in place, halfway down the tower steps at his words, and he recognized the look on her face. He's seen it a thousand times since he met her over a year ago.

"I'm pressed for time, Captain." She says. "I have to run these figures to the plotters--"

"You're on your way there anyway." He insists. He holds out a stack of messages. Weather reports, updated communications from nearby bases, messages about incoming ferries happening later that day.

She turns her back on him.

Heads right down the stairs like he hadn't even spoken, and leaves him standing there.

"For fuck's sake," he whispers to himself, and then he's taking off, hot on her heels.

She's like a wraith the way he catches only glimpses of her disappearing around corners, until finally she's in Ops, handing a message to Red at the maps before turning to pass on other messages, her steps quick and efficient.

The room is relatively quiet and he's sure he's not imagining the way people take one look at the two of them and pretty much clear out. They don't want to be stuck inside with them when the arguing inevitably starts.

He sighs. "Fernandez-- can you just wait a minute?"

"Not really, no."

The thing about an impending promotion is that he's starting to understand why Jack hates being Air Exec. He hates being stuck inside, or in the tower, or elsewhere on the base while others are doing the flying. He understands his role. He'll do it and he'll do a damned good job of it, but that doesn't mean he likes it.

Especially because it means he's in close contact with the Ops staff, who are all, except for Marie Fernandez, willing to work with him.

"Do we have a problem?" He blurts, because he already knows they do. The first day he met her she looked at him with.... nothing. She wasn't rude or anything, but he felt like he could have been any other suit standing in front of her, and it hit him in the gut like he didn't expect. "I'm not giving you orders, I just asked if you'd do me a favor." He's aware his tone is hardening. He's trying not to let it happen, but she's just staring at him in that way she does.

"I don't work for you," she points out, tone perfectly neutral, but something about it just grates. He opens his mouth to respond, but she beats him to it. "I work for the Colonel, and he's the one who gives me orders."

His hands go to his hips and he looks down at the ground, clenching his jaw as he fights his temper. "We're working together, Fernandez. All of us." He leans in, "Unless you forgot."

Her eyes narrow. "Because I couldn't possibly feel the same patriotism that you do, could I?" She pretends to think, finger tapping he chin. "I forgot that the only way to fight from the air is in the seat. Us pencil pushers don't count." Her eyes are blazing, a few tendrils of her dark hair escaping from their pins after hours and hours of work.

"You weren't supposed to hear that." He mutters. Not a good excuse, but he can't help but bite back at her. She gets under his skin - he needs to have the last word. It's a matter of pride, is what he tells himself.

"Then don't gossip where everyone can hear you, Captain." She raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Now. Is there something I can help you with? Because if not, then we're busy."

He takes a deep breath, tries to lower his voice. "I'm just asking if you would be willing to take messages when you're on your way anyway--"

"-- And I told you I don't have time. I know you think I don't do anything but sit around and twirl my hair all day--"

"That's not what I think."

"Can I--" Harry Crosby's head appears around the doorframe of his office.

"Not now, Croz--"

"Shut up Harry--"

They both snap at him in unison, and he holds his hands up in surrender and backs into his office. He's been the third wheel of too many arguments between Fernandez and Blakely over the last few months, and he has no desire to get in the middle of another one, even though he's desperate for a few minutes of quiet.

The sudden quiet between them is tense and for a moment -- he doesn't even think she's aware she does it - the wall around Marie Fernandez comes down. Her face is open, vulnerable. She looks exhausted, just like the rest of them.

She takes a deep breath, settles her shoulders, and squares to face him again, and he's suddenly breathless. She is unbearably lovely. Especially when she's yelling at him. And his heart is pounding, and she's saying something but he can't hear her and--

"Well?" She snaps.

"I-- what?"

"I said, the next time you need something from Ops, send one of the other girls. There's no need for us to keep disturbing everyone else." Her voice is quieter than it was a few minutes ago and he hates it. The fight's gone out of her eyes too, and for a crazed half-second, he wants to reach for her.

To do what, he has no idea, but suddenly he feels out of control, like he has no idea how to speak or move or--

She brushes past him. The door slams behind her as she goes back to her office, just outside the Colonel's.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as the quiet of the room settles over him. He knows this has to get sorted. They can't keep fighting like this, not with the invasion so close on the horizon, not when the communication between Ops and the tower is so important.

They need to trust each other, and he needs to keep his big mouth shut and stop taking his frustrations out on her.

He knows all this, but there's a part of him that's itching for a fight, and she's always willing to give it. Perhaps it's the masochistic part of him that came back from Bremen, knowing everything had gone to shit and convinced that it always would.

Harry comes out of his office again, hands in his pockets.

"Don't say it--"

"You can't keep doing that." He says, serious.

"She started it--"

"She's just doing her job, doing what she's supposed to do."

"I asked for a favor! That's all! Goddamn, you'd think I'm asking for her to get in the goddamn seat and drop a bomb on Hitler's house."

Crosby frowns. "Look, I just-- you let her get to you, and I don't know why, but you're driving everyone crazy. We're all tired but this is too important."

He opens his mouth to argue that Harry Crosby of all people shouldn't be lecturing him about being tired, but he bites his tongue. The door behind him opens again, and he looks over his shoulder, expecting her to storm back in and demand he apologize to her, but it's Douglass.

"Fightin' with Marie again?" He asks, casually, leaning against the wall as he bites down on an apple.

"Jesus Christ." Ev mutters.

"I'm just asking because the two of you really know how to clear a room."

"I'm going to go now. Don't you two have anything better to do?"

"Besides bother you? Not really."

"Thanks, Dougie."

Douglass follows him out the door, calling after him, "Just let us know when you're finally going to do something about it so we can steer clear, alright?"

Blakely flips him the finger over his shoulder and walks back to the tower, his gut roiling for reasons he doesn't want to examine. No, he'll steer clear of her from now on. It's best for everyone.

[louddydisturb]

what's the matter harry? you look like you've seen a ghost

Depois do estouro da franquia de panico londres se tornou um alvo dos ataques do ghostface, harry, seu namorado e melhor amiga estavam na procura de só mais uma festinha com drogas e bebidas mas tudo tomou um outro rumo

Louis, 28

Harry, 23

Tw: h!fem, cnc, agressão, sequestro, manipulação, rape play, knife play, traição, morte, sangue, fear play

Viu deixar aqui minha recomendação se quiserem ouvir com change (in the house of flies) e cherry waves dos deftones

Boa leitura e espero que gostem :))

Sol.

“Essa festa vai ser incrível! Juro passamos horas tentando fazer essa maquiagem parecer real” Madison tagarelava no banco de trás do carro exibindo o “machucado perfeito” que ela e harry demoraram pelo menos 2 horas e refizeram pelo menos umas 3 vezes, ela estava fantasiada Lara croft com um extra de uma facada na barriga

“Vocês realmente levaram isso a serio” Tyson, namorado de harry, estava fantasiado de jack skellington fazendo par com harry que estava vestida de sally

“Essa é a maior festa do ano, literalmente todo mundo estava esperando” Madison continua

“Não sei não, não fazem nem 48 horas que acharam mais um corpo e é obvio que tem um serial Killer a solta” harry fala apreensiva enquanto arruma a peruca vermelha

“Relaxa, amor. Seja lá quem esteja fazendo isso não iria ter a cara de pau de matar em uma festa cheia de gente” Tyson estaciona na frente da casa de festa “e caso aconteça você sabe que eu vou estar aqui pra te proteger” o cacheado passa o braço pelos os ombros de harry que suspira desconfortável

“Se eu fosse não falaria isso, o filme favorito dela é pânico e os namorados não são muito uteis” Madison zoa antes de sair do carro

“As amigas são as primeiras a morrer” Tyson rebate antes de sair seguido de harry

🔪 🩸

‘I was made for loving you baby’ tocava alto pelo salão, harry cantava junto com Madison enquanto Tyson buscava mais bebidas

“Te falei que iria valer a pena!” Madison falava alto

“Tirando o fato que parece que alguém tá observando a gente o tempo todo”

“É uma festa harry, tem pelo menos 200 pessoas aqui”

“Certo” os olhos verdes caem em Tyson que voltava com dois copos de bebida, ou melhor, na figura escura atrás dele

Um arrepio correu por toda a espinha da cacheada

“Tinha uma fila imensa no bar” o garoto entrega os copos com bebida e abraça a cintura de harry que estava estática sem ao menos piscar “amor? Tudo bem?”

“S-sim” ela toma um pouco da bebida focando no mais alto em seu lado

O celular de harry vibrou, uma notificação de uma mensagem de um numero desconhecido.

Harry aproveitou a distração dos outros para abrir as três fotos enviadas

Ela obviamente reconheceu o local, era a balada que eles estavam porem em uma área mais afastada perto do bar onde tinha vários sofás e mesas. Oque fez o sangue de harry ferver foi ver o “casal” se beijando no canto da foto, era a porra de seu namorado e uma loira desconhecida

“Que porra…” harry xinga baixo

“Oque aconteceu?” Os olhos castanhos de Tyson a encaram em curiosidade

Seu celular vibra novamente

Era outra foto mas agora no centro da foto estava harry

A cacheada olha em volta mas não parecia ter ninguém olhando ou com o celular

“Vou no banheiro” ela se afasta caminhando rápido até o local

Para sua sorte o banheiro parecia estar vazio, ela entrou e trancou a porta

“Canalha” ela sentia seu peito doer só de imaginar que a pessoa que ela mais confiava estava a traindo sem o mínimo peso na consciência

Seu celular tocou, “chamador desconhecido” brilhava no display

“Alô?”

“Alô” uma voz grave sooa do outro lado da linha

“Quem é?”

“Quem é?”

“Ha ha muito engraçado zayn, chega da brincadeirinha”

“Zayn?” A voz continua “não conheço nenhum zayn, harry. Ou melhor sally” harry sente todo seu corpo arrepiar

“Quem é você?”

“Quem é você? Quem é você? Quem é você? Todo falam a mesma coisa. Acredito que tenha feito a pergunta errada, harry”

“Oque você quer?”

“Brincar”

“Brincar?”

“Um jogo, se eu ganhar temo que essa seja a ultima coisa que você vai fazer” harry sentia seu corpo tremer ao que ela tirou o celular da orelha na tentativa de desligar a chamada “Não desligue caso queira continuar com todos os orgãos em seu copo, harry” a voz soou mais grave

“Ta bom ta bom, qual é o jogo” ela tentava esconder o medo em sua voz

“Perguntas e respostas sobre filmes de terror, você gosta certo? Se errar você terá uma surpresinha que não acho que seja muito agradavel para você”

“Pode começar”

“A primeira pergunta, harry. Qual o nome do assassino de sexta-feira 13?”

“Pamela”

“Pamela?”

“Pamela voorhees! A mãe de jason!”

“Certo… está com sorte, harry. Oque chris faz para não ser hipnotizado em corra?”

“Corra… ele arranha o braço do sofá!”

“A ultima, harry… quem era o assasino em panico 1?”

“Billy! Billy loomis” um silencio toma conta da chamada

Derrepente a porta do banheiro estoura revelando uma figura alta vestida de preto com uma mascara de ghostface

“Errado” harry sente seu corpo entrar em panico e não conseguia ao menos correr “qual o problema harry? Parece que você viu um fantasma” a faca brilhava na pouca luz do lugar

“Puta que pariu” ela começa a revirar sua propia bolsa ao que o desconhecido começa a se aproximar

“Procurando isso?” Ele gira o taser nos dedos “não acho que tenha muita escolha sally” ele avança e harry se abaixa se arrastando até uma das cabines do local

“Quer brincar de esconde esconde?” Um murro é deixado na porta de madeira fazendo-a quase quebrar “qual seu filme de terror favorito, harry?”

“Sai daqui!”

“Todo mundo tem um favorito” outro soco é deixado na porta e ela finalmente cede

O ghostface a encurrala contra a parede do pequeno cubículo “sabe qual é o meu?” A lamina da faca passeia pelo pescoço de harry antes de cortar a blusinha do vestido da garota ao meio “o nosso”

“Você é louco” ela se rebatia mas só fazia o aperto em seu braço ficar mais firma

“Todos nós enlouquecemos as vezes, harry” a garota achou que por um segundo ela reconhecia aquela voz

“S-sai”

“Acho que devia ter mais atençao com seus bolsos” harry tira o teaser do bolso da calça jeans preta e consegue escapar do aperto

Ela corria pela balada lotada, não conseguindo localizar madison ou tyson no meio de toda a gente

Ela se arrependeu no exato momento em que pisou na rua escura do lado de fora da balada, era 3:00 da manhã não passava um misero carro na rua

Harry correu.

Correu até seus pulmões pedirem uma pausa e suas pernas não aguentarem o peso de seu próprio corpo

Ela entrou em um beco escuro enquanto tentava ligar para alguma ajuda mas nenhuma ligação completava

“Achou que eu não ia te achar, gatinha?” Harry congelou sabendo exatamente quem estava por trás daquela mascara

“Tomlinson” ela se rastejou ate suas costas baterem em uma parede, as botas pretas do outro soando na brita do chão

“Tomlinson? Gosta de brincar de advinhar né?” Ele se agacha em frente a garota observando os olhos verdes se arregalarem “acho que errou mais uma vez”

Um pano é forçado contra o rosto de harry, ela se debate sentindo seu corpo ficar leve e sua visão começar a embaçar. Era como se ela estivesse flutuando sobre nuvens

“Dormindo como um bebê” ele pega harry no colo ao que a garota perde completamente a consciência em seus braços

🔪 🩸

Harry acorda sentindo seu corpo inteiro doer. Ela abre os olhos lentamente observando a sua volta

Ela estava em uma especie de porão que era iluminado apenas por uma lamparina e a luz da rua que entrava pela pequena janela, tinha uma especie de mesa com uma mochila e oque ela reconheceu ser sua bolsa. Harry tentou se levantar mas alem da fita em sua boca ela também estava amarrada em uma cadeira no centro da sala

A porta de metal se abre e louis passa por ela, ainda com a mascara cobrindo seu rosto porem agora a camisa preta tinha os botões abertos e com marcas de sangue em seu peitoral

“Que bom que acordou, bichinho. Por um momento achei que tinha exagerado no sonifero” ele caminha devagar jogando uma bolsa preta no chão “está com frio? O aquecedor daqui parou de funcionar deve ser por isso que está tão inquieta” louis retira a luva e então acaricia a bochecha macia de harry, essa que afasta o rosto em uma tentativa falha de se afasta do toque “oque foi? Sempre gostava dos meus toques” ele puxa a fita da boca de harry fazendo as bochechas cheinhas arderem

“Louco! Você é louco, Louis!”

“Não sou louco, amor” a lamina afiada corta levemente a meia calça de harry “fui tão legal com você, sequer te machuquei, e é assim que sou agradecido”

“Você é maniaco! Me sequestrou só porque ficou com raivinha?”

“Não te sequestrei, harry. Você precisa entender as coisas melhor” ele aperta o pescoço da cacheada fazendo o ar começar a ficar limitado “apenas te “trouxe para um passeio”, você já estava na rua e em um beco escuro, é perigoso existem muitos loucos por ai”

“L-louco” harry sentia que podia desmaiar novamente a qualquer momento

Harry tosse tentando regular sua respiração ao que louis se afasta de si

“Acho que ja ta bom do xingatório” em um movimento ele corta a fita que a prendia na cadeira, deixando somente a fita que prendia suas mãos, e puxando-a pelo braço fazendo a garota cair no chão frio “vamos lá, harry. Você sabe muito bem como isso funciona” ele desabotoa a calça jeans tirando o membro duro do aperto

Os cachos são puxados fazendo harry gemer baixinho de dor, o membro duro batia nas bochechas de harry sujando-as de pré-porra

Lagrimas escorrem involuntariamente ao que a mão pesada de louis se choca contra com seu rosto e ele segura seu queixo fazendo-a abrir a boca

“Isso, amor. Viu como mesmo depois do inutil do teu namorado você ainda sabe como eu gosto” o tomlinson estoca contra a garganta de harry fazendo a garota engasgar e se afastar tossindo assustada

“Talvez tenha se desacostumado mas não é nada que eu não possa te ensinar de novo” ele deixa alguns tapinhas nas bochechas vermelhas, harry abriu a boca sentindo o gosto do pré-gozo inundar seu palato ao que louis voltou a estocar gemendo rouco

Louis sentia seu estomago revirar ao sentir os gemidos da garota em seu pau, só assim notando como ela rebolava em seu sapato em busca de algum alivio

“Viu como já está voltando a ser uma puta, amor?” Ele se afasta chutando harry que se encolhe no chão “você não passa disso, Uma putinha sem cerebro”

“Louis… por favor” a voz de harry estava completamente fodida

“Vem, amor. Não ache que eu só vou te largar, nem sequer me fez gozar ainda” ele puxa harry com força, a jogando contra a mesa branca encostada na parede. Sua bunda ficando empinada no vestido curto que mal fazia o trabalho de a cobrir

Louis termina de levantar a sainha antes de cortar a meia calça fininha junto com a calcinha de harry

“Olha como você ta molhada feito uma vagabunda” o homem era agressivo e penetrar dois dedos na grutinha molhada fazendo harry gemer alto e bater os pés tentando o afastar “quieta”

Ele puxou o pescoço da garota tendo a visão rostinho choroso e os lábios inchados de tanto serem maltratados

Um tapa ecoou pela sala fazendo os lamurias da cacheada ficarem ainda mais altas

“Shh… tudo bem, bichinho” ele tira os dedos de dentro dela levando em seguida para os lábios gordinhos

Harry geme abafado sentindo o falo duro a preencher

Louis apertava a cintura fininha deixando a sua mão marcada perfeitamente ali

“Porra hazza…” ele puxa a garota para perto de si fazendo-a apoiar a costa em seu peito

Harry gemia chorosa com a cabeça apoiada no ombro tatuado, ela podia o sentir perfeitamente em sua barriga

As estocadas continuas faziam o baixo ventre de harry revirar e suas pernas tremerem

“Eu vou g-gozar” ela fala entre gemidos

“Que egoista, bichinho.” Ele brinca com os mamilos rijos sentindo a cacheada se molhar ainda mais em seu pau

“Por favor” lagrimas se formavam no canto dos olhos verdes e ela tremia desnorteada contra o peito de louis

Um grito agoniado ecoou pelo comodo quando a lamina afiada traçou um LT perfeito na bunda machucada de harry

“Quer gozar sozinha? não te ensinei a ser egoista, amor.” As estocadas começavam a descontrolar indicando o quão perto louis também estava

“Louis…”

“Goza” ele diz ríspido sentindo harry se apertar em volta de seu pau e gozar molhando toda a mesa e pelves de louis, esse que levantou a mascara puxando a garota para um beijo ávido e quente enquanto gozava

ele deixa mais um tapa na banda cheinha antes de cortar a fita dos pulsos pálidos

🔪 🩸

O suv estaciona no meio fio algumas casas antes da casa de Madison, harry desce do carro correndo e sentindo seu coração bater descontrolado

“MAD! MADISON ABRE PORFAVOR!” Ela batia rápido na porta branca que não demorou a ser aberta pela garota

“Harry?! Oque aconteceu? Meu deus você tá bem?” Ela ajuda a cacheada a entrar na casa, trancando a porta principal logo em seguida

“Ele me achou” harry soluçava abraçando a amiga “o assassino” os olhos verdes a encaram em agonia

“Oque? Você ta machucada? Harry…”

“Ele me torturou mads” harry continua sentindo as lagrimas quentes molharem sua bochecha e o moletom da outra garota “liga para o Tyson”

“Harry… ele foi encontrado morto não muito longe da balada ontem”

“Oque?! Como…” os lábios de harry perdem completamente o sangue

“28 facadas e-“ a fala de Madison é cortada com a figura mascarada que aparece no reflexo do espelho “harry… harry ele ta aqui!” A garota tenta corre mas é segurada por harry que continuava parada no lugar “harry? O assassino ta aqui!”

“Eu sei… se tivesse prestado atenção nas vezes que assistimos filmes saberia que sempre tem dois assassinos” a lamina afiada é cravada no estômago da outra “se não estivesse tão ocupada ficando com o meu namorado” a pupila de harry estava tomada pelo preto e aos poucos o casaco laranja sujava mais com o sangue “agora você pode ter ele todinho pra você, filha da puta” a lamina atravessa a cabeça da garota que cai inconsciente no chão, uma poça de sangue se formando no carpete claro

“Muito bem, amor” louis se aproxima retirando a mascara e deixando um beijo no topo da cabeça cacheada “melhor irmos”

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

How likely do you think it is that H&M ran a similar campaign against W&K? The affair rumors, the racist allegations, Where's Kate.

And do you think Harry being involved with Twitter previous owner (something in the congress?) could be a factor?

How likely do you think it is that H&M ran a similar campaign against W&K? The affair rumors, the racist allegations, Where's Kate.

I've always said that Harry and Meghan, or their fans, have been 100% behind everything about William and Kate that contradicts what everyone else has said about them. (You must be new here...if you are, welcome!)

And do you think Harry being involved with Twitter previous owner (something in the congress?) could be a factor?

No. Harry being involved with Twitter/Jack Dorsey is about censorship.