#best song deserves the best necklace its beautiful

[lifeontoast]

❤️The Cullen Family Valentine’s Special!❤️

As promised, here is the Cullen Family Valentine’s Special! Hope you enjoy, as it took me a fair while to write.

SUMMARY: some headcanons for how you would spend Valentine’s Day with all the Cullens (and human!Bella)

…

Carlisle

· As the hospital knew he was such a hard worker, they gave him the day off (he definitely deserved it)

· He hid little gifts around the house for you to find

o They consisted of roses, love notes, hand-made items, photos of the two of you and much more

· There were so many literally everywhere in the house that you found them for days afterwards

· You two just sat on the sofa in each other’s arms the whole day, never moving for anything

· After a day of gentle loving, Carlisle blindfolded you and took you in the car to his favourite secret spot

· It wasn’t a long drive, but you found yourself growing slightly impatient on the journey

· He surprised you with one of the nicest places you’d ever seen

· You vowed it would become your special place, just as it was Carlisle’s

· You found yourselves at the bend in a beautiful river, just in time to see the sun sink slowly beneath the horizon, in a glowing burst of colours

o It was the most phenomenal thing you had ever seen (besides Carlisle himself)

· Sat on blankets, you chatted the day away, until the night grew dark and cold

· You started to get up, but Carlisle pulled you gently back down

o ‘my love, look at the stars!’

· and you did.

· If you thought the sunset was stunning, the inky black sky just redefined the word

· Constellations littered the sky, every star its own perfect heaven

· The rest of the night was spent laying on the blanket, hand in hand, gazing up at the night sky

Esme

· The two of you spent your Valentine’s Day doing good things for the town:

o You baked cookies for hospital patients

o You made cards to give to the rest of the Cullens and your friends

o You treated the workers of the library to a home-made pie

o You gave roses and good wishes to people you saw on the street

o And just the general spreading of good, Valentine’s cheer

o And you had a damn good time doing it

· All that doing good had almost made you forget yourselves on this, the day of love

· Almost

· At home, you found a bouquet of roses from Esme herself waiting for you on the kitchen table, along with a DVD of your favourite movie and a photo in a frame she had decorated herself

· The two of you sat on the sofa and watched your favourite romantic movies together, cuddled under blankets

· When the day turned to night, you surprised Esme with a necklace you had made her and a bouquet of her favourite flowers

o She put the necklace on immediately and swore never to take it off

· You decided to put on your CD of love songs and you danced together in the kitchen, so in love

· Definitely one of the best days you’d ever spent together

Edward

· Edward took you to his most sacred place, the meadow

�� He made sure that you were out of the house before sunrise, so you could watch the sun creep from below the horizon together

o You made it just in time

· The feeling of running through the forest and streaking across the meadow was a high you were sure you wouldn’t feel ever again

· At last you fell on the soft, flowery ground just as the sun was making its ascent

o It was beautiful

· But not as breath-taking as the person sitting next to him, Edward told you

o If you could have blushed, you would have

· When the dawn had well and truly broken, Edward started pulling things out of the backpack he had brought

o He had board games, books, puzzles, sketch pads, you name it

· You whiled away the day playing your favourite games together

· Edward revelled in the opportunity to play chess with you, being the only person whose mind he couldn’t read

· When you played every game several times, you just lay down in the soft grass and held each other for hours and hours

· It felt so wonderful to let the sun shine on your face for once, and you saw the sparkle of Edward’s skin – you knew yours was identical, and you loved it

· You talked to each other in hushed voices, but mostly lay in silence; your company was enough for each other

o You gazed up at his gorgeous features; they never failed to take your breath away

· The day had passed quick as a wink, and before you knew it then sun was sinking below the horizon, spreading its beautiful colours across the landscape, and glittering golden on your faces, as you smiled at each other

· You sat there, looking at each other until the sun had left the sky

o ‘my love, it’s twilight’

· and it was.

· The light was half there and half not, and it was beautiful

· Finally, you streaked through the forest again together at midnight, racing each other, laughing so loud the people three towns over heard it

· It had been the best day you’d ever had

Rosalie

· She took you out for a drive in her red convertible

· She drove so fast you screamed and laughed together

· The feeling of breezing down the roads was exhilarating; it filled you with euphoria and a palpable giddiness you’d never felt before

· The streets were deserted; there was no-one to stop your fun

· Rosalie drove you to all your favourite places, and you got out, sat and talked together at every one

· Once you had seen all your favourite places, Rosalie took you to hers

· There were meadows, streams, forests, everything

· She had good taste

· At your final stop, the place where you had your first date, she gave you a gift: your favourite flowers and a ring

o It was her promise to you to love you forever

§ If she ever thought you’d leave her, she was crazy

· You finished the evening by singing love songs together sat on a blanket on the banks of a gentle stream, not a care in the world

· You could see the sun set in its gentle waters

· Rosalie held you close in her strong arms, and you felt that you couldn’t be close enough

· Your hands touched accidentally, but you grasped Rosalie’s tightly, knowing how she had struggled in the past

· You didn’t let go for the rest of the night

· On the drive back home, you screamed the same songs at the top of your voices, not caring one bit about being heard by people

· When you got back home, a giggling mess, you cuddled up together on the sofa, completely drunk on love

Alice

· She took you out shopping and told you to pick whatever you wanted

· She treated you to a brand-new outfit, which you wore that night when you went out to a Valentine’s Day party thrown by one of your friends

o You two slow danced the night away

· When you returned home at midnight, the two of you treated yourselves to self-care and romantic movies

· When you got bored of the movies, you held each other close for the rest of the night, Alice making sure that you were always feeling comfortable and loved

· It was so perfectly romantic you could have sworn you were dreaming the whole time

· A soft, sweet and gentle Valentine’s Day

(sorry, I couldn’t think of much for Alice – I may add more to this if I get more inspiration)

Emmett

· The two of you left the house very early and went for a morning walk in the forest

· Nobody had seen you leave, it was more thrilling than you thought it would be

· You made your way there, only running when you were sure you were out of sight of any unsuspecting humans

· The gentle sunbeams fell through the leafy green ceiling and sparkled on your skin

· You grinned at each other, as Emmett suddenly sprinted away from you

· Determined not to let him get away from you, you followed at full speed

· You eventually caught up to him in a clearing, where he was stood in front of a large log, grinning widely

· You knew what he was thinking

· You were by him in an instant, arm held out, hand ready for him to take

· He did so, and it began

· He thought he was winning at first, and he relaxed, overly confident, and you saw your chance to beat him and win

· And that you did

· He was shell-shocked, in a word

· You laughed at his kicked-puppy face, until he cracked a smile and tackled you to the ground

· You lay there, laughing together, never happier

· Eventually, you got up and continued walking

· You talked all the time, hand in hand

· Walking, walking, walking till it was past sunset

· Eventually, you only saw by the light of the moon

· Emmett told you it looked stunning sparkling off your face like that

· You stopped suddenly, and he did too, confused, until you ran off this time

· He took a while to catch up

· You had to stop at the edge of the forest, lest any humans were around at this unlikely hour

· You walked home, hand in hand, having spent a long, wonderful day with each other

Jasper

· He took you to his favourite place, the top of a hill

· A somewhat unlikely place for vampires to hang out, as you were in full sun

· It was especially risky as it was an abnormally nice day for February

o You had to bring a big floppy hat to hide your sparkling skin

· However, the risk made it all the more exciting to the two of you

· There you sat, on the top of the hill, until you saw humans climbing up it

· This you took as your cue to get out of there

· What were this bunch of hikers going to say when they happened across two sparkling “teenagers” on the top of the hill?

· Not very much, you suspected; only a great deal of screaming

o You usually didn’t mind attention, although this was the type of attention Carlisle would not be fond of

· So, you got out of there

· You ran down the other side of the hill as quickly as you could, which was very risky as well

· However, as you both were basically flashes of light, nobody saw you

o It was kind of a miracle actually

· You found yourselves in the same forest where you had met, and in the same clearing too

· You decided to sit against a tree and reminisce for a while

· You brought out your pocket knife and began to carve your names into the tree you were sat against, vowing that you would come back whenever possible for some peace and quiet

o Jasper agreed

· Something inside you told you that it wouldn’t be very long before you were back

Bella

· You spent the day at Bella’s house as it was the weekend

· You had agreed between you that Bella would provide entertainment, and you would provide the food, being the better cook

· Bella didn’t disappoint; she had rented tons of rom coms for you to watch

· When you walked into the house, you found every surface was covered in every candle that Bella owned, lit up and producing a lovely, warm glow

· It was like the glow you felt in your heart when you were with her

· The sofa was buried under blankets and pillows

· You hadn’t disappointed either; you had prepared a wonderful lasagne for the two of you, and had brought soup for lunch too

· Plus, Charlie had gone out for the day, so you had the place to yourselves

· Bella decided to start with Love Actually, then you chose Breakfast at Tiffany’s

· You watched the movies cuddled on the sofa, hand in hand

· After the 2 movies, it was lunchtime, so you heated the soup you had brought and served it between the two of you, whilst watching Bridget Jones’ Diary

· After Bridget Jones, you grew bored of the movies, and decided to bake cupcakes instead

· Now, it had to be said that the cupcakes you made weren’t the greatest, but that was only because you were too busy chucking cake batter at each other and laughing to care about them

· However, by the end of the 3 hours it took to make them, you had a plate of half-decent cupcakes, but a very messy kitchen, dirty clothes and cake batter filled hair

· It was only an hour till Charlie was due to return, so Bella and you had to run around like headless chickens trying to clear things up

· Then you had to run around like headless chickens cleaning yourselves up

· Just as you heard the key in the lock you sprinted to the sofa and jumped on it

· Charlie walked in to two girls grinning on the sofa, looking the happiest he’d ever seen them

· He smiled too, happy to see you two happy

…

A/N: thanks so much for reading! Don’t hesitate to send in any requests you have, and I will answer it ASAP after my hiatus (should be a couple more weeks till my schedule calms down)

[myfriendofmiseryyy]

Wish you were here

A tribute to Cliff burton ⚒️🎵

Chapter one,shine on you crazy diamond

February 10th 1985,cliffs birthday.

Waking up bright and early,I sneak out of bed to do the last preparations for cliffs birthday,we’ve been together for around a year and we moved in together around a month ago,it’s been nothing but bliss.

I begin to hum a tune “so,so you think you can tell,heaven from hell,blue skies from pain” wish you here by pink Floyd,although the nature of the song,its always reminded me of Cliff,one of our favourite things to do is play it on guitar together. And when he’s on tour,I often find myself singing it softly to him over the phone,while he plays it on guitar.

I’ve brought him the vinyl for his birthday,although he already has it,it’s scratched from years of playing.

I make him breakfast,his favourite,pancakes with extra syrup,as I feel him wrap his big arms around my back. “Where you go” he mumbles into my ear in that groggy morning voice that sends chills down my spine in the best way.

“Making you breakfast in bed,but since you’re already up” i chuckle kissing his bare shoulderblade

“Mhm thankyou sweets” Cliff mumbles sitting down and patting the seat next to him motioning me to sit next to him.

“Damn you went all out huh?” Cliff chuckles as he sees the presents on the table

“Just a little something for my favourite boy” I kiss his forehead sitting down.

“Just you is enough babe,you know that” Cliff kisses me deeply,tasting like the pancakes he’s just eaten. “Can’t get enough of you” he whispers softly

“Open your presents first mr” i chuckle

“Okay bossy boots,but just so you know,im most definitely saving the best present till last…and that is being between your legs for at least 2 hours” he winks

“Clifford!” I laugh and smack his shoulder playfully

“Ow” he playfully pouts,”you’re gonna have to kiss it better now”

I kiss his shoulder and bite it playfully “there! Big baby” I laugh

“All better” Cliff smirks and kisses my lips playfully.

“Which one first?” Cliff says looking at the presents

“It’s your birthday babe,your choice!” I chuckle

“Okay okay” Cliff takes a present from the pile,choosing the gift closet to him. He unwraps the paper carefully “omg no way!”

“Figured you haven’t got the latest release yet” I giggle

“I haven’t actually,this is awesome,thankyou sweetheart,you know me too well”. He says flipping through the pages of the first of many horror magazines I got him.

“This will take up all my time on tour” he chuckles kissing me softly on my cheek.

“Can I open another one” he asks

“You’re not a child Cliff,of course you can” I laugh

Cliff opens another present “a new Walkman! Thankyou baby!” Cliff hugs me from the side “I’ve wanted one for ages” he mumbles into my neck “I know” i chuckle and kiss his hairline “I love you so much” he says into my ear. “Love you too sweetheart”

Cliff proceeds to open another present, he gasps when he opens the small box,it’s a necklace,with a silver pendant in the shape of his signature bass guitar,engraved on the back is the words “we’re just to lost souls,swimming in a fish bowl,year after year” Cliff looks over at me with tears in his eyes

“This is the most beautiful present I’ve ever received baby girl,seriously”

“You deserve everything and more” I cuddle Cliff as he wipes a few tears from both our eyes “you’re my girl. Forever and always” Cliff whispers and kisses me deeply.

“Forever” I whisper back

“Got you something else too” I say softly

“Oh baby you are really spoiling me” Cliff chuckles as stand up to find the vinyl I got him

“Here,I know it’s only small but yours doesn’t even play anymore because of how scratched it is” I chuckle

“No way! Thankyou babe,I’ll put it on right now! Cliff pads across the living room to put the vinyl on.

As the first notes to “shine on you crazy diamond” comes through the speakers Cliff takes me in his arms “I love you more than anything,you are my entire existence baby,I love you more than the band,music…my bass,everything” he whispers in my ear as we slowly sway to the sound of pink Floyd echoing through the house.

“Imma fucking marry you some day” he whispers “ just you wait”

After a while of holding each other,we sit down on the couch again,”wanna play our song? Birthday treat” Cliff grins

“Birthday treat.” I agree as Cliff gets our guitars out.

“You better sing too,it’s my birthday in the end” Cliff winks playfully

“Considering it’s your birthday,I guess I could sing it…” I chuckle as I play the opening riff

“You’re so beautiful” Cliff whispers as he waits for the lead part to kick in.

I take a deep breath and play the opening chords,it almost being second nature to me at this point,after two run throughs Cliff joins in too.

“So,so you think you can tell

Heaven from hell,blue skies from pain?…

Can you tell a green field,from a cold steel rail…

A smile from a veil?do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade,your heroes for ghosts

Hot ashes for trees,hot air for a cool breeze.

Cold comfort for change? Did you exchange

A walk-on part in the war,for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish,how I wish you were here,

We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,year after year.

Running over the same old ground,and how we found the old fears,wish you were here…

We finish the song with tears in our eyes,looking at each other with ever lasting love,and compassion for each other,”we always compliment each other so well” Cliff says emotionally,”I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather spend my life with” he puts his guitar down and the same time as me and we meet in a passion but love filled kiss,his arms wrapping around me as he takes me to bed,the love and desire he has for me so raw and clear to see.

I couldn’t imagine a life without him,and I don’t want ever lose what we have. And yeah,I’m making sure I become his wife some day.

If you made it this far,thankyou🥲 this my first long fic in a longggg time,and I’m making a part two (will be very very sad) I just love Cliff and pink Floyd so much,so I decided to combine the two,came up with this listening to wish you were here and I shed a few tears writing it,hope you enjoy ❤️❤️

[bombshelllblonde]

hiiihihii!! im backkkk to tell u abt my rdr playthough bc im bored asf haha

¡love this game omg!! the graphics, the story, the details UGH!!!!

hunting is actually so fun for no reason- i bought so many fancy ass guns too 😭

also my play type whenever i play ANY story game thats open world is to do every possible thing every except the actual story so i get a bunch of stuff and then its so muvh easier

in short i have 6000+ dollars 😋

bonus of exploring everything is i got thw white arabian and i love her sm ‼️‼️ i named her pearl and she is my baby

dress up is my seconf favorite hobby

my fav outfit rn is the red vest w the floral pattern on the front (i forget what its called) n the black french dress shirt underneath + the bison necklace talisman

(also arthur w medium-long length hair n short facial hair>>>)

this game is so detail oriented, its kind of insane- im doing a high honor run atm, and i came across the blind beggar for the third (?) time and the blind guy said and i quote

"that is which killing you will finally help you, friend- to hear and see."

is this foreshadowing this feels like foreshadowing

also ik arthurs dies (bc of tiktok edits and fics, they artists in this fandom is amazing!!!) and im not prepared at all 😭 im going to procrastinate so bad 

ALSO CHARLES DESERVES SO SO MUCH I LOVE HIM

yk the hole lil speech he has at the campfire yk "most human beings seem to know why they were born but, for me- its seems i was just mean ton hurt and suffer myself" that one

im bawling istg if he doesnt get a good ending im going to be writing a formal complaint to rockstar games

anyways

tw opinions (ik bro its crazy to have opinions in 2024 whattt no wayy)

ive gotten to the point in playing where im in ch 3, and the only way i can progress the actual story is to help micah rob a stagecoach or whatever

micah is a bastard and i dont like him

him as a character is rlly well written and awesome but,,,,,hes,,,slimy,,and i hate him,,,,so he can wait for a little longer ☺️

my favorite characters rn in no particular order is

arthur (obviously) , charles , sean , javier , tilly , marybeth , and kieran

my pookies ‼️‼️

moving on im so sorry this is so so long 😭 idk anyone who likes rdr irl lmao

anyway hope u have a nice day and no wolves attack you and spoke ur horse who bucks you off a cliff

(in rdr btw)

((true story also))

yo, having 6k in chapter 3 is amazing. good for you!

my first playthrough i got the white arabian and i named her Lemoyne Tree as a tribute to the state of Lemoyne and my favorite post malone song Lemon Tree. But she always got super dirty so i then went to the lake next to Strawberry and tamed the red chestnut arabian. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that one, she's gorgeous and arthur always gets that one when i play it. my beautiful baby girl Diablo <3

also yes. heckin FUCK MICAH BELL. even from the beginning he's been a slime ball. hate that man <3

i won't go too far, but just keep yourself high honor towards the end of the game. you need that to be your first ending. :')

Charles deserves the absolute world. just listening to him speak and hanging out with him at camp, and the missions you continue on to do with him throughout the game are so much fun. charles is someone i wish i could have in my real life because he seems like he would be the best person to speak to and hang out with. he is so lovely and down to earth. even arthur says it a couple times throughout the game. charles gets a good ending i promise.

my top blorbos are Arthur, Dutch, Charles, Hosea, and Josiah Trelawny my absolute beloved <33333 just wait until you go on the mission with Charles to find trelawny. one of my favorite missions ever ever ever ever!!

a lot of people dislike dutch, but i love him so much. he is my actual father. i love him.

i also hate john. let me know how you feel about that little greasy weasel of a man. :)))

i'm so so so glad you're having fun and i am very invested, so please continue to keep me updated on what ur doing because i need to live vicariously through you. if i could erase my entire mind and replay the game over and over again for the first time, i totally would

[xxmyhomexx]

SONG OF THE CRIMSON NILE: Anubis's Party

I really hope he appears soon because it's going to get even harder for me to stay loyal to Amen. I have a headcannon that for a modern AU, he would be a bestselling author from a rival publishing company, so that makes him a rival with Amen.

One day, he invites him and his employees to a charity party he hosts. It's Eva's first time at a dinner so grand, and she's unsure of what to do, so she sticks with Agnia who shows her the ropes. As they mingle around, they see Anubis and Amen talking. Eva is in shock that he's tall, all muscle with long black hair, and undeniably handsome.

"Agnia," she leans in. "Why doesn't Amen get along well with Anubis?"

Agnia sighs. "Anubis used to be signed with Amen's company, but he branched out to a much bigger publisher. He never gave him the credit he deserved, and his entire personality changed. He's a bit arrogant."

"Wow, that's...unsurprising."

Agnia nods and leads Eva over to the dancefloor, encouraging her to dance. Smiling, Eva follows her lead. Meanwhile, as Anubis and Amen continue to talk, the latter cannot help but notice how beautiful she is. Perfect skin, long dark hair, and a yellow sundress that sways with her hips.

"My, my, Amen," Anubis smiles. "You never told me your personal assistant is gorgeous."

Amen grits his teeth. He knows Anubis loves to get his hands on everything he finds beautiful, and a part of him wanted to remind him that Eva wasn't someone he could sink his nails into and just toss her aside like he did when their partnership disintegrated after he left Night Falcon Publishing.

"I think I might say hello."

"I'd rather you didn't," Amen almost chokes on champagne. "I don't want you ruining her like you almost did me."

Anubis sighs. "You're too stubborn to take an olive branch, Amen. Always were, always will."

Amen growls and is about to argue back when they both see Eva come scurrying over. She's a bit sweaty from dancing, but the sheen makes her skin even shinier. The way her hair sticks to her face, the way her eyes trail over her boss...he smiles widely, barring his teeth.

"Amen, sir, there's a man and woman asking for you near the dinner tables. His name is Zain and his wife's Yasmin."

"Thank you, Eva," Amen nods. He glances at Anubis who is only amused. Eva quirks a brow as his icy blue eyes trail from him over to her.

"I don't believe we've met."

"No, we haven't," Eva does her best to be polite and smile, but there's an air to this man that almost has her losing her breath. He wears a set of Egyptian necklaces around his neck, a puffed out collared shirt, almost like a suit. He's taller than her, but height was never an issue with her. She comes up to his chest, which she can tell is definitely defined in muscle. She can also see white streaks growing out through his hair.

Isfet, he shouldn't be her type, but...in a way, despite seeing traits she would never like in a man, she was intrigued.

"My name is Anubis."

"Eva."

Might as well keep it short, yes? Amen knows Eva can fend for herself, so he excuses himself and leaves, but not before giving her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. Eva smiles as he leaves before Anubis strolls closer toward her.

"So, Eva," he looks down. "How long have you worked for Amen?"

She keeps her eyes neutral. "I'm still new. What about you? You sure seem to like throwing parties."

"I'm a man of charity. I like to stay in touch with the community."

"Amen doesn't seem to like it."

Anubis chuckles. "He's always been one for a comfortable life. I'm a man who takes risks."

"At the cost of his respect for you."

Eva narrows her eyes but keeps a smile plastered on her face. Anubis purses his lips before taking he surprises her by tilting her chin to meet his gaze. Now she can't look away even if she wanted to. His eyes are so intense and blue that she begins to wonder what it'd be like to get lost in them.

"Never judge a book by its cover, Eva. You don't know me well enough to judge me."

Eva bites her lip. "Do you want me to know you?"

This time, Anubis grins. His canines are like fangs, pointed and white. "I'd like that a lot actually."

Eva smiles herself. "Then keep dreaming. It's never gonna happen."

She swats his hand away with a mirthful look. "Take care."

She turns on her heels and walks back toward Agnia. Anubis stands there, stunned, but now, even as he ponders what the hell just happened, he knows there's more to Eva than she seems. She's feisty, sexy, and he's determined to make her his.

[plastic-summer]

my thoughts on taylor's grammy nominations

i still think midnights is criminally underrated in the fandom, so it would be amazing to see her getting the awards she deserves! absolutely taylor's most cohesive album to date and you can just see how proud she is of it. the lyrics, the production, the visuals, the narratives, everything, just pure pop perfection. i'd expect nothing less from the legend that is miss taylor swift.

1. record of the year - anti hero.

anti hero is a fantastic song, i will never understand why people hate it all the time. it showcases something i think taylor is super good at and that stands her out from other artists - pumping endorphins into the most heart wrenching lyrics. this award is mostly for sound and production however - i'll come back to lyrics later. i think anti hero separates itself production-wise from the rest of midnights (which has a dreamier vibe to it) which i love because it's more raw and personal and honest than the other songs, which are more narrative or experience based. i wouldn't suggest it's the best song on the album, but it's absolutely a deserving single and winner of this award.

it has some super tough competition for this award - it's been an amazing year for music - especially sza's "kill bill" and victoria monét's "on my mama" (both of which i'd be equally happy with as winners). i would say myself that anti hero shines far more in its lyrics than its production, which might hurt it in competition, so if she loses out on any awards, it may well be this one.

2. album of the year - midnights.

in my eyes, midnights won album of the year as soon as it was released. it's just stunning in every possible way. again, there's lots of tough competition from all different genres, but midnights is in a league of its own. the production is gorgeous and (unpopular opinion probably) very different from what she's released in the past, with this amazing dreamy and nostalgic quality to it that brings to life the album concept without it being ostentatious. it follows a clear but not garish or derivative narrative path, again subtly and tastefully presenting its concept. the lyrics are consistently reflective but present differing emotions, which again is indispensable in this particular concept. it's absolutely a 10/10 album in my books, and clearly one of her best, if not her best overall.

3. song of the year - anti hero.

okay, this one is for songwriting, which we know is what taylor swift came to do, and what she will always dominate in. i said about the record of the year nomination that anti hero will be known for its gut wrenching honesty and not necessarily for its sound, and i stand by that here. for me, taylor's selling point is her ability to write music that is obviously deeply personal to her, but also general enough that any of us can relate to it and feel heard and seen. anti hero is a masterclass in this - every word is perfectly crafted in such a way that you can see yourself and your own struggles in it, even if they're nothing to do with hers, without a scrap of taylor's personal feelings being lost in it. it combines beautiful poetic lyrics with a punchy hook that somehow remains perfectly tasteful and never cheap or lazy, and every second of it is dripping with genuine emotion. this is one of the songs of hers that will outlast us, and deserves to be recognised as such.

4. best pop duo/group performance - karma (ft. ice spice)

i will be one to say this song is WAY overhated. it's a grower for sure, but i love it. ice spice is just so excellent with wordplay and rhyming, it's great to see them on a track together. karma is a brilliant song anyway, it's so tongue in cheek it regularly crosses into comedic in an artful way. i don't expect it will win, if i'm honest, not because it's not a good song, which it is, but because it has too much competition for it to live up to standards. most likely it will go (deservedly) to "candy necklace" or "ghost in the machine".

( her other nominations are for best pop solo performance for anti hero and best pop vocal album for midnights - not much more i can say there )

[munningham]

Chrissy lives AU - what comes next Part 2 (this ended up just being Christmas Break)

Part 1 here

After the night where Chrissy showed up on his doorstep at midnight, Eddie starts sneaking into Chrissy’s room every night once her parents go to bed. He makes her laugh and lets her cry and paints pictures with his words of the amazing life they’re building in Chicago. There’s a lot of hilarious mornings of Chrissy frantically trying to hide Eddie under the bed, in the closet, behind the door, before her mom comes in.

Eddie hears it all though. How Mrs. Cunningham talks to a Chrissy, the endless stream of backhanded compliments and criticisms and always always always comments about her body. Eddie knew Chrissy had it rough and eating disorders are no joke, but actually hearing the monologue that Chrissy has been listening to every day for 18 years.....it takes everything he has to not lose his shit and start screaming. Conformity really is killing the kids.

After the first morning he promises that he won’t leave until after Mrs. Cunningham has done her morning wake up call. He sits with Chrissy after her mom leaves the room and quietly has her repeat her therapist’s affirmations. You are loved. You are enough. Your body works just the way it is. You are strong and capable. She’s a stupid mean old bitch who never deserved you. (That one is Eddie’s).

They exchange gifts Christmas Eve night. It’s unconventional, but there’s something so beautiful about the two of them sitting on her bed with just a small light on, with the moon lighting the room through the snow falling outside. The first gift Eddie gives her he swears is not her real gift, but it makes her burst out laughing. Carefully wrapped in a box is Eddie’s old Black Sabbath tshirt. “I mean, it’s already yours, I hardly get a chance to wear it anymore, I figured we should just make it official” he forlorns, putting on a dramatic show of huffing and sighing like seeing Chrissy in that tshirt isn’t the hottest sight in the universe. Eddie’s next gift is a new necklace. It’s a crystal wrapped in gold wire, on a gold chain. Eddie made it himself, twisting the wire in spirals and swirls and carefully wrapping the ends so there would be no sharp edges. “This stone, it uh, it reflects light. It’s not a flashlight or anything but I just, I liked that it could give you light. And tell me if it’s too heavy, I don’t want it to be uncomfortable.” Chrissy kisses him soundly and wraps her arms around his neck. “I love it Eddie, it’s perfect. And no, it’s not too heavy.” It is weighted, but it’s a comfortable weight. Like it grounds her, she feels its presence when the world starts spinning out of control, like Eddie is there with her. She tells him it’s the best gift she’s ever gotten, but Eddie shyly hands her a third small wrapped box. She instantly takes back her words when she sees what’s inside: a mix tape of Eddie covering her favorite pop songs. George Michael and Cyndi Lauper sung by Eddie’s earnest, raspy voice with his guitar is the most beautiful music in the world. This gift makes her cry.

Chrissy also gives Eddie three boxes. The first is a new set of guitar accessories (slide, clamp, new strings, and a tuner that actually fucking works). She teases him that it’ll take all the fun out of watching him try to tune his guitar by ear or banging his old piece of shit tuner on the coffee table. “Veronica is gonna be so spoiled” Eddie grins. The second small box is a set of shiny black dice with silver numbering. They’re not the cheap dice Eddie’s been using since middle school, they’re really fucking nice. “Where the hell did you find these?” Eddie asks. Chrissy grins. “I asked the guys from the store in Chicago. They gave me their catalogs and let me put in an order through the store.” Eddie is impressed the store employees were even able to have that conversation with her - as loveable as those guys were, they were completely inept at pulling two words together in front of a pretty girl. The third box has a framed collage. It looks like a shadow box for a sports team, but it says “Hellfire Club”. It has the yearbook photos dating back to 1981, where a sophomore Eddie Munson stands grinning with a bunch of other freaks and rebels. Over the years the other kids in the photos change, but Eddie is always there, grinning with his tongue out making devil horns. The last photo Eddie doesn’t recognize. It’s not a yearbook photo. He looks closer and sees Henderson, little Wheeler, both Sinclairs, along with the new faces of Will Byers, Max and El, posing in the theater, proudly wearing their Hellfire T-shirts. “They actually kept it going?” Eddie softly asks. Chrissy grins and nods. “Every other Friday after school. They weren’t thrilled about taking a photo until I told them it was for you. You built something Eddie, you should be proud of it.” Eddie stares at the shadow box some more, with a wide smile on face, until he finally looks up. “You’re amazing Chrissy. God I love you.” “I love you more Eddie”. “Not even possible, princess”

Eddie has to go back for work after Christmas, but Chrissy’s break lasts until the end of January, so he calls in reinforcements from The Party. Between Christmas and the end of January, the Cunningham residence experiences a never ending stream of calls and visitors. Steve drops by to visit some afternoons and charms the pants off of her parents (“You know Chrissy, he’s going through a rough patch right now, but the Harringtons are such a good family, you should ask him over again”). Steve and Chrissy have definitely had very similar experiences, they have some heart to hearts about not living up to expectations and finding your people.

Steve’s presence is also not the worst thing in the world because Jason is also home for Winter Break. Jason stops by one afternoon, but when Steve opens the door and gives him a look, Jason leaves without ever coming in. Chrissy thanks him and then awkwardly tries to explain that Jason might think there’s something going on between them, and don’t get her wrong Steve is a great guy and would be an amazing boyfriend for someone, but she really loves Eddie. Steve smiles and shakes his head and cuts her off.

“Relax Chrissy, I know. Don’t think for a second I don’t see those eyes you and Munson make at each other, Jesus it’s disgusting. I also really don’t feel like being axed or stabbed or whatever these freaks do to guys who hit on their girls.”

Chrissy opens her mouth to object, then sees the smirk on Steve’s face. She lets him continue. “Jason’s an asshole. He’s one of those assholes who’s only ever going to think of girls as property. So, unfortunately that means he’ll only back down if he thinks another guy has “staked his claim” or some other macho bullshit. So if I have to swing by every so often and eat your mom’s sugar free cookies to keep him from bothering you, that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

Chrissy smiles and gives him a warm hug. “You’re a really good guy Steve Harrington. You really don’t have another girl you’d rather be spending the holidays with?” Steve just hugs her back and doesn’t answer.

Robin and Nancy take Chrissy out during the day as much as possible. Nancy is also struggling with college and the pressure to live up to her own expectations and how do you find a normal when you sleep with shotguns and keep flamethrowers in the closet? Even with going to college with Jonathan, it’s still rough. Robin is living her best lesbian life at Smith. The 3 of them have lots of talks about finding yourself and being yourself and what are we supposed to do in this fucked up world anyway.

The Wheelers is still the place to hang out, so Eddie calls their house as often as he can without being annoying so he talk to Chrissy. Nancy runs interference when she needs to. (“She’s not here right now but she’s okay, Eddie, I promise.” “You don’t know what her mom is like Nance.” “I know, I know. I’ll call her after dinner tonight to check on her.”) Chrissy tells Eddie that Jason came by, but Steve scared him off. “So he’s going to uh, just like, “have a presence” I guess, to keep Jason away.” Eddie is not crazy about pretty boy Steve Harrington half-pretending to date Chrissy, but he also knows how dangerous Jason is, and Chrissy is there alone, and the whole damn town is rigged to back their golden boy, and honestly Steve is probably the one guy in Hawkins that Jason won’t take on. That doesn’t stop Eddie from calling up Steve and having a little chat with him, thanking him for helping with Chrissy and Jason but also, “just keep your fucking shirt on this time Harrington.”

[nevadawasnottaken]

love languages

the love language of dream smp members :) (platonic for minors! romantic for others) im doing them all bc they all deserve recognition! :D keep in mind i dont know all of their personalities well! (hbomb, antfrost, ponk, lazarbeam, etc) these are all c!dsmp (in game) those marked with * are ones im uncertain about/unfamiliar with! -- dream: gift giving or acts of service with a twinge of physical touch. mans will get anything for you, no lie. you want it? hes got it. dream xd: acts of service or gift giving. possibly touch, but i dont see him being keen on it unless its in private. i see him as someone who tries to spoil his s/o a lot. if youre a worthy lover of a god, you should be treated like one. george: probably acts of service, quality time and touch. man would probably cuddle with you while watching some movie that neither of you pay attention to. sapnap: touch or words of affirmation. he does like giving gifts on occasion though! probably something thatll remind you of him. but overall, he prefers hand holding or something. he likes knowing youre there. callahan*: quality time. i imagine he likes going places all over the smp. it makes him happy to take you places that he finds beautiful. even better when you find them beautiful too! sam: acts of service for sure. he would make you tea (or your preferred drink) on a bad day and wrap you in blankets and cuddle as much as youd like. or, he would leave you alone if you need it. hes very caring, warden persona aside. sam nook: gift giving seems his thing! or acts of service! he seems as if he would get you things to cheer you up, or just simply do things like tuck you in. if you want, he gladly will let you pet his lil ears. (yes i hc that sam nook has lil ears :) ) alyssa*: even if we dont see her much, she strikes me as the type to enjoy physical touch. hand holding or something simple. she prefers to stay out of the thick of things and chill, thanks. ponk*: touch or words of affirmation i think are very fitting. he seems the type to always have an arm around you or holding your hand. he definitely would be good at comforting, i think. badboyhalo: i think we can all agree that hes a mix of everything. i think hes most oriented with words of affirmation and quality time. he likes spending time with you, just telling you all the things he loves about you. tommy: more than likely quality time. i dont see him as one to like holding hands (”me? hold hands? grOSS! step away and leave some space for the holy spirit!”) or anything. hes not good with words of affirmation (he needs them, really) and hes a bit awkward with things like hand holding. so spending time with him is his thing. listening to his discs and joking around with you and tubbo is what makes him happy. tubbo: gift giving, touch and quality time. he likes spending time with those he cares for, as well as giving them gifts. little trinkets, mostly. for example, he gave ghostbur a bracelet woven from friends wool, and hes given tommy a ruby! :) fundy: probably gifts. fox man will find you shiny things. emeralds, diamonds, gold, you name it. even if you dont need/want it, he gets you things. rings and necklaces and bracelets. it makes him happy to see you wear them. not all at once, of course, but wear them nonetheless. punz*: acts of service and touch. hes the type to arrange your things to suprise you or leave you flowers on a bad day. he also would probably cuddle and ramble about how perfect you are to him. purpled*: quality time. i think he would gladly spend time with you if you asked him to :) wilbur: a little bit of everything, i think. but one thing i think he would definitely do is write songs, so basically making playlists, but he sings for you instead! but for one of the main ones, i think he mostly is one for touch and affirmations. he likes being comforted/comforting you. ghostbur: gift giving or touch. quality time, too! i think he likes giving you things (like blue!) in general. he also seems very clingy (which is adorable <3 anyone who says its not can fight me rn) and would gladly hold your hand! he often will just take it anyways. :) (”i like holding your hand! your hands are nice to hold because theyre warm!”) schlatt: quality time. like tommy, i think he isnt one for touch. maybe he will give you gifts, but spending time with him is enough of a gift for him. skeppy*: gift giving. he would probably get you big gifts, like stuffed animals or something. or photos. seems like a skeppy type thing to me. :) eret: a little of everything, i think. but i see his thing being touch and quality time. i think they would very gladly cuddle if you asked them to! but shes big spoon, no doubt about it. only little spoon if you ask. jack manifold*: acts of service or touch. he would make you food if you wanted it, i think, or hold your hand. maybe not the best with comfort or cooking, but he tries. (”look i- i know the cookies arent good, but its the thought that counds, right?”) niki: words of affirmation, quality time and touch would all be nikis thing! :) she would spend time with you, probably cuddling and providing comfort if needed. she would remind you every day that youre loved and youre worth it. quackity: definitely touch and quality time. when hes not busy, he takes you places. often to watch the sunset. he also strikes me as one for pda! a bit shy at first, but relaxes into it. hes definitely one to say “gotta show off my partner! >:)” mexican dream*: words of affirmation but in spanish dont @ me karl: do we need to even question this? (spoiler alert: quality time and touch) hbomb*: strikes me as the type for quality time and some touch :) techno: probably acts of service, gift giving and quality time. he likes holidays like christmas and your birthday because he can give you things. he likes shiny things! and he likes you, so he gives them to you! antfrost*: quality time and touch seem fitting. just the peace of being together. philza: quality time and gift giving with a bit of touch. he likes when you touch his wings, running your fingertips over the smooth feathers, or fixing any ruffled spots. he also likes spending quiet time together. he can give words of affirmation and comfort if you need them. connor*: probably touch! i see him as the type to want to hold your hand a lot. so def one for pda :) puffy: probably quality time and words of affirmation. goat mom would def be able to encourage and comfort you. vikkstar*: i think touch is fitting :) pda really, and acts of service lazarbeam*: acts of service seem most fitting! he seems the type to do things for you, especially on bad days. ranboo: gift giving and quality time! he is definitely the type to get you little things! or grass blocks. he gets sad if you rid of a grass block, so you kinda have to store em. or kindly explain that you dont want dirt inside, so you can put the grass blocks outside. foolish: the type for acts of service, i think! and maybe some touch. i think he gladly will do things for you, no questions asked. (unless it seems harmful ofc!) hannah*: seems the type to like words of affirmation (giving and receiving!) especially on your/her bad days. slimecicle: gift giving. he probably picks you flowers and does nice things whilst being sarcastic. he will comfort you on bad days, though. -- as usual, lmk if i should change tags! requests are open! 

[nightwishesworld]

A Better Way

Because I am unhappy with our beloved wife’s death I decided to write my own.

That being said...SPOILERS!!!!!!!! I wrote this based on and referenced canon events in the game. If you wanna skip this and wait for the game’s official release in a few days I completely understand.

Alcina’s form trembles atop the pile of rubble she created during their fall. Somehow that lowlife Ethan survived the fall as well. Fuck, what does it take to kill that man? Even in her monstrous form, she failed to stop a flimsy little mortal man. Is he really that powerful? Or is she simply the weak little rat Mother Miranda always said she was? The answer is obvious now.

Alcina knows this is it for her. There is no winning or even recovering from this. She’s lost way too much blood and is in no state to replenish herself. She hears him stumble to his feet somewhere beside her and grab his gun. It doesn’t bother her anymore. Even now as she turns to stare down the barrel of a shotgun she knows she deserves what’s to come. She failed in her task.

Everyone that depends on her is now in grave danger and it’s all her fault. Because she wasn’t good enough to protect her family from a single human man.

Her family....

Images of her beautiful daughters' lifeless piles of ash lying abandoned on the floor like yesterday’s garbage hurt her more than any weapons could hope to. What kind of mother let her daughters, her own flesh and blood, get slaughtered because she was too incompetent to take care of a little pest? A failure of a mother. Their blood is on her hands, not Ethan’s.

Mother Miranda will have to make the call to Heisenberg to let him know why Ethan is on his way to the factory. And about them. After everything that this woman has done for her and her family and this is how Alcina repays her? How pathetic of her. And her little brother as well. She’s failed everyone she cared about on this god-forsaken earth.

Alcina sighs as Ethan cocks his gun and inches closer and closer to her. After letting out a long exhale she opens her eyes and stared down at him. He’s in shit-shape but he’ll survive. Suddenly that doesn’t sound so bad. If he can finish the job, at least.

“Do it,” she whispers, and her voice cracks. Alcina will not cry in front of this vile creature; she refuses. “I am nothing without the love of my daughters. I’d rather die than live a day without their presence.”

She could have sworn she saw a hint of remorse flash across his bloodied features before he grounded himself once more. He probably didn’t even believe her. Why would he? All he sees is a hideous beast that needs to slain. Not a broken-hearted mother mourning the loss of her darling children. No one has ever seen them for who they really are. Pity.

Her head hangs and she catches a glimpse of his shadow, his arms raising.

“I deserve this,” Alcina thinks to herself.

BANG!

Karl Heisenberg was sitting in his office, legs stretched atop his desk glazing over files. Pretending to work so no one would bother him. He was so lost in his own little fantasy land that the phone ringing next to him nearly started him out of his chair.

He let out a dramatic groan, knowing full well it was Alcina calling to continue their petty argument from earlier. A chuckle escaped his mouth remembering how he told her to drop dead before hanging up.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and begrudgingly brought the phone to his ear.

“Didn’t I tell you earlier to-“

“Heisenberg!” Mother Miranda’s voice spoke. The man nearly choked on air when he heard her voice.

“Miranda! Apologies, I thought it was Alcina calling me.”

Mother Miranda paused, but only for a moment. Her tone was as it always was; calm with a hint of disappointment. “That is what I am calling about, actually. Alcina failed to keep Mr. Winters under control and he escaped. I can only assume he is making his way over to you now.”

“Alcina and the girls, are they-“

“No longer assets we need to be concerned about. The Ceremony will continue on schedule with or without them, is that understood?”

He was completely floored. His beloved, pain in the ass, older sister is dead. And what of his adorable little gremlin nieces? They’re gone too? How can Miranda possibly expect him to just-“

“Is that understood, Heisenberg?”

He cleared his throat and nodded as if she could see him. “Of course, Miranda. The preparation will continue as-“

She hung up.

Heisenberg put the phone down and buried his head in his hands. He didn’t feel anything. Only numbness. The longer he sat there thinking about them the harder to became to think about the stupid ceremony. Or that human parasite on its way to him.

His anger got the best of him and he slammed his fists down on the desk. “To hell with Mother Miranda.”

He called one of his lackeys in and filled them in on the basics of the situation, warning him about Ethan mostly. Heisenberg was to depart for Castle Dimitrescu as soon as possible. Let the lycans have fun with their new incoming chew toy until his return.

The ride up to the castle was ghostly. He expected to hear the girls’ laughter as he entered the main doors as they always do when he visits. They were always happy to see their dear Uncle Heisenberg.

Cassandra’s ash pile was the first to be found. Simply because it was out in the open by the entrance leading down to the basement. It was obviously her because the smell of her lilac perfume was still infused in her ashes. He kneeled beside it and stroked it gently between his fingers, whispering apologies and words of comfort. Both for him and Cassandra. Then he took an old pendant necklace from his pocket and ever so gently, scooped some of her ashes into it.

“There you are, Cass. Safe and sound with me.”

On a hunch he decided to look around the basement before searching the rest of the castle for Bela and Daniela. He already knew where Alcina was resting. Bela was indeed laid in one of the extraction rooms of the basement. She collapsed behind a pillar as if she were trying to hide or shield herself. Heisenberg did the same thing and scooped up her ashes in his necklace, this time kissing the pads of his fingers and laying them on the ash pile.

Daniela was next. She was in the library, literally on the other side of the door. Heisenberg cursed himself for unintentionally spreading her ashes as he opened the door and nearly stepping on the poor girl. He stayed with her longer because of this, whispering a thousand apologies to her. The way she was laid down made Heisenberg think Daniela tried to escape and came really close to doing so.

A few tears streamed down his cheeks as she gathered her ashes in his pendant. That man will pay for what he’s done. For taking such innocent souls from the world that had so much more in store for them.

His beloved sister was last. She wasn’t where he thought she would be, which he found odd, but taking a closer look around it all made sense. The damn burst behind his eyes and he openly cried for the first time in decades.

“Fuck,” he sobbed, soothing his sister’s large heap of ashes. “I didn’t mean literally, Alcina.”

He grabbed a fist full of ash and clutched it to his chest. “I’m so sorry, sister. I should have helped you trapped that rat when he escaped me the first time. But I won’t let that happen again.”

Just like with the girls, he scooped up some of her ashes in the pendant. But this time instead of putting it back around his neck he gave it a few delicate shakes, mixing the four of them together as one.

“There. Now you’ll always be together; in this eternity and the next.”

He stayed there next to her for the rest of the night. They talked for hours (though it was a one-sided conversation) and watched the stars flicker into existence as the sunset. When there were enough of them out he pointed out the various constellations to her. The entire night went on like this; acting as if nothing had changed since they were children.

The sun was just starting to rise over the grassy green hills. Radiant shades of pink and gold colored the sky like never before. It was almost like looking at heaven itself. Early birds sang their song of the morning as they flew swiftly across the sky to wake the rest of the woodland creatures and the residents of the village.

Heisenberg exhaled a shaky breath. “I better be off, Sissy. Miranda will have my head if I don’t deal with that rat before the ceremony. But don’t you worry, I’ll take care of all four of you once this shitstorm has passed. You’ll be given proper burials and everyone will have a chance to say goodbye.”

He could feel the tears starting to build up again. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you or the girls. You’re a royal pain in my ass, but you’re still my big sister and I love you.”

The ride back to the factory was comforting. There was still a heavy weight on his shoulders, but he never expected it to go away. It will only go away after exacting his revenge. When he finds that man, oh boy is he in for a treat. The lycans should have done some damage to him already or at least exhausted him. Ethan is weak now. It’s time to strike back.

No one harms Karl Heisenberg’s family and gets away with it.

[hldailyupdate]

For British singer/songwriter Harry Styles, 2020 was a career-defining year, bolstered by the December 2019 release of his GRAMMY-nominated sophomore solo album, 'Fine Line'

Though many people might want to write off 2020 as a year that never existed, for others, it was a year of growth, change and even success. For Harry Styles, 2020 was a career-defining year, which is no easy feat when the entire world is shut down. The pandemic left him no choice but to put his world tour plans on pause and strategize a new way to not just promote his sophomore album, Fine Line, released in December 2019, but also keep fans' attention.

What followed was a bit of a phenomenon.

Styles, who has been a star since his One Direction days, became a bigger star with every passing day. His album went multi-platinum, he got his first Billboard Hot 100 No. 1 single with "Watermelon Sugar," he was named Variety's 2020 Hitmaker of the Year, he landed his first-ever GRAMMY nominations of his career (Best Pop Solo Performance for "Watermelon Sugar," Best Music Video for "Adore You" and Best Pop Vocal Album for Fine Line at the 2021 GRAMMY Awards show). And the list goes on.

While these accomplishments would add up to a banner year for any artist, what makes it so unique for the British singer is twofold. For one, he's been in the business for a decade already, gaining fame at just 17 as a member of the huge boy band One Direction. While in the group, which came together in 2010 as part of "The X-Factor," Styles and his bandmates Liam Payne, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik found global success, selling millions of records, performing in sold-out stadiums around the world and winning many awards.

However, despite how massive the band became, they didn't quite crossover to listeners of all ages—they had a hard time shaking the boy band label. While their music evolved into a more mature rock sound over the years, they never got to a place where they were wholly appreciated by the public in a way that their fans knew they deserved.

Once the band went on hiatus in 2015, Styles went to work creating his first solo album, Harry Styles. It was released in 2017 to much fanfare (it also debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200), but it wasn't until his second solo album that he really hit his stride. With Fine Line he found his musical voice and shared an album that not only resonated with his core fanbase but also brought him further into the mainstream.

From the first single released off the album ("Lights Up" in October 2019) all the way to the most recent video ("Treat People With Kindness" in January 2021), Fine Line has continued to grow. It was with this album that Styles became a household name, disconnected from his boy band roots in a way like never before. Gone are the days where people refer to him as "Harry Styles from One Direction." Now Styles stands alone, proud of where he came from but boldly moving forward on his own path.

The even more stunning part of Styles' year, though, and the second reason 2020 was so out of this world for him, he largely let his fanbase spread the good word about his art. Fans on social media hosted streaming parties for "Watermelon Sugar" to ensure it hit Billboard's No. 1 spot. They've created and sold their own merchandise to advertise his music. As only a dedicated stan army can do, they've made sure that every single thing he does goes viral. Even though Styles himself has a limited social media presence, he's still one of the most noteworthy internet personalities, simply because his fans have kept him there. In a world where social media reigns supreme, he lets his work speak for itself and trusts in his partnership with his fans to help him succeed.

The impact of Fine Line was substantial. Because of it, he is currently in the running for his first three GRAMMYs--Best Pop Vocal Album, Best Music Video for "Adore You" and Best Pop Solo Performance for "Watermelon Sugar." And the numbers also back up his work. Fine Line is RIAA certified double platinum, has over 4 billion worldwide streams and spawned six songs that cracked the Billboard Top 100 chart.

Before the album's release, to promote "Adore You," Styles and Columbia Records created a mysterious world called Eroda that trended before anyone even knew it was for a music video. "Watermelon Sugar" became one of the songs of the pandemic summer after the video dedicated to human touch—which has over 194 million views on YouTube—was released in May 2020.

Not one to ever let the album get stale, Styles continued to remind listeners of its existence throughout 2020, even though the world had shut down and in-person promo wasn't an option. Before that, though, Styles caused a buzz as he took double duty on "Saturday Night Live" in November 2019 as the host and musical guest, as well as performing in BBC Radio1's Live Lounge the following month. After a few shows in Los Angeles, London, and New York in late 2019 and early 2020, Styles hunkered down amid COVID and let his music videos do the talking. Aside from "Watermelon Sugar," he released a video for "Falling" in February and "Golden" in October. Fans may not have gotten to see Styles on the road in 2020, but he made sure to keep popping up on their screens, including a virtual appearance at iHeart Radio's Jingle Ball in December, one of his only in 2020.

But 2020 wasn't only a great year for Styles' music, he also graced multiple fashion magazine covers, continued his relationship with Gucci, and even landed a second major movie role, in Olivia Wilde's upcoming Don't Worry Darling. Not only was he Vogue's first man to pose on a cover alone, he did it wearing a dress. He's continued to quietly advocate for genderless fashion by wearing what makes him happy, whether it's fishnets for Beauty Papers or his everyday pearl necklace. Though many rock stars before him pushed similar gender-bending trends, he's become that person for his generation.

Styles even influenced countless people in lockdown to take up knitting, simply to recreate the J.W. Anderson rainbow patchwork cardigan he wore during a rehearsal for the "Today" show in February. After a few fans fumbled through knitting a copycat, the fashion house published a pattern that spread like wildfire. Suddenly TikTok was flooded with people knitting "The Sweater," and fans all over the world showed off their matching rainbow cardigans in their Instagram selfies from home.

As much as the phrase has been bandied about in recent months, it still holds true: It's Harry Styles' world and we're all just living in it. Despite all the setbacks and hardships, 2020 defined Styles as an artist—not just a musician, but a whole artist. It seems inevitable that Styles will only continue to grow his star power as he draws in more fans for this journey. For those devoted fans who have been there for him since he was just a teenager singing "What Makes You Beautiful," though, his meteoric rise in 2020 just made sense.

(11 March 2021)

[linopetal]

photograph. chapter one

pairing : na jaemin x reader

genre : angst , fluff , best friends to almost lovers , hanahaki disease au

word count : 5k

warnings : heavy cursing , mentions of blood , throwing up , dying , death

synopsis : so you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans holding me closer 'til our eyes meet you won't ever be alone

note : this heavily based off of ed sheeran’s song photograph ! ( it will make more sense in the later chapters ! ). this is also based on jaemins love for photography since he is always taking pictures of the members !

one.

At nine years old , Jaemin was gifted his first camera by his mother on Christmas morning. His mother always saw the look inside his eyes when they landed on the nice and expensive cameras in the mall. He always found nature in itself so pretty. His mother decided that a white disposable camera would perfectly fit him for his Christmas present. “ Jaemin it’s time for you to open your gift “ , his mother said in a soft voice. He remembers anxiously running up to the colorfully light christmas tree and bending down to pick up a present with his name largely written over it in black ink . The wrapping paper had pretty white snowflakes and snowmen printed all over. Quickly grabbing the present , he ripped open the box only to reveal a camera. He remembers this warm and happy feeling flowing throughout him. Most children his age would want toys and things like that , but that was not Jaemin. He didn’t see what was so important about toys that you would soon get rid of once you found a new and cooler looking toy. Grabbing the white camera , he hugged his mom. “ Thank you Mom! This is my favorite gift “ , he said smiling.

At ten years old , Jaemin was taking pictures of different things he ran across of during his walks in the neighborhood park. He vividly remembers taking a walk in the near by park that was recently built in his neighborhood. He stumbled across this little pond. Jaemin was fond of animals. Whether it be a dog or a goose , it didn’t matter to him , he thought they were all such beautiful creatures. He quickly grabbed his camera out of his back pocket to take a picture of the ducks swimming in the pond before they swam off. Jaemin wrote on the palm of his hand , “ Pond. Nice spot for photos “ as a reminder to come back to that exact spot another time to take photos. He still had the same old disposable white camera that he was gifted one christmas ago.

two.

At fifteen years old , Jaemin had just entered the ninth grade. Jaemin was always a quiet student. He didn’t interact with many students. Though , Jaemin was popular amongst some because of his looks and nice personality , he preferred to stay out of the crowd. He never liked being the center of attention in any context. He was fine with his one and only friend , Renjun. Huang Renjun had been Jaemin’s best friend since the second grade. They had met during the first day of school. Jaemin’s mom had made him a small creeper necklace.

Renjun had notice it and engaged in a very long conversation with him about how Minecraft was the best game to ever exist. And since that day they were inseparable. Renjun was basically Jaemin’s brother. He was always invited to family events. It was the same for Renjun aswell. They did everything together. Jaemin was very appreciative of Renjun. He had never had a friend like him. They stuck together throughout elementary.

Jaemin had just moved to a new neighborhood. His mom had recently got promoted to a higher placement in the company she worked at so they had to move a little ways over to be closer to her job. Renjun’s parents worked at the same branch of the company that Jaemin’s parents worked at meaning that they both would still go to the same school.

During the first day of nineth grade , Jaemin had decided to take his new green disposable camera with him , which he bought with money he saved up from doing chores. He bought it with him for on his way back to his house from school. There was a pretty park and he just felt like he had to capture the beauty he felt it held.

Jaemin was intimidated easily by people , though he was careful with the emotions he showed. He was to busy placing his camera into his backpack to notice the visibly taller and scary looking guys approaching him “ Hey what is that in your hand ? “ , the middle one asked sarcastically. “ Uh uhm its just a uh camera “ , Jaemin said nervously. “ Oh well mind if I see it for a second ? “ , the middle one asked with a fake smile on his face. Jaemin got a weird feeling in his stomach yet he was scared to say no so he simply nodded and complied out if fear of the strong boy. As he place the green camera in the boy’s hand , he heard the two other boys chuckle. Jaemin had attempted to take the camera back out of his hand but he failed in his attempt. Right then and there the middle boy took the camera , threw it on then ground , stomp on it and broke it into pieces. He looked at Jaemin and said , “ Thats what you get for being weird camera boy “, he said. Jaemin was upset. He spent six months saving up money to afford that camera. All the photos he had taken and all the memories stored were simply gone. He held back his tears and then all of a sudden he heard yelling. “ You asshole , why would you do that ? Fuck you , there was no point in that. “ you said angrily. “ Hey, Y/N you better calm down now “ the middle boy said in a mad voice. “ Fuck no “ , you said as you slapped the boy. Jaemin was caught off guard. No one had stood up for him when things like this occurred. Renjun was too much of a coward to stand up , and Jaemin understood that. He watched as you walked up to him and asked him , “ Hey , are you okay? I’m so sorry Jihoon acted that way to you. I’m Y/N by the way. If you want, I could by you a new camera ? “ , you said to him in a worried yet sweet tone. Jaemin was embarrassed. Eyes were on him and you which made him feel weird. You had notice his sudden discomfort due to the people staring and you looked at them and glared. When they turned their heads around you looked back at him with a soft smile. He realized it had been a good 20 seconds and he hadn’t answered you yet. “ Oh uh I’m Jaemin. Thank you so much. You don’t have to buy me a camera. I can just save up some money to buy another one “ , He said. “ Oh no don’t worry. It’s no bother Jaemin! “ , you said in a soft tone. He liked the way you said his name. And ever since then ,you two became best friends.

About a week after the incident that occurred on the first day of school , you and Jaemin had miraculously became friends. In the spam of seven days you both managed to find out you both live right beside each other , you both love peaches , and you both have an addiction to horror movies. You were both practically made to be best friends. From that day on it was you , Renjun , and Jaemin. You all had became best friends. It was you three against the world. You couldn’t ask for better friends.

One day , Jaemin had just woken up on a Saturday morning to the sound of his doorbell ringing multiple times. He thought he was going to catch a headache. He was a little annoyed but his annoyance quickly disappeared when he opened the door to only see you. He smiled so widely while looking at you that he didn’t even notice the item in your hand. Your were so cute , how could he not ? As you walked inside his nice and comfy home , you handed him the small box in your hand. “ What is this Y/N ? “ , he asked. “ Just open it Jaemin , I’m positive you will love it “ , you said smiling. You had a nice smile , he thought. You had known each other for eight months now , why was he thinking such things ? He shook the thoughts away and slowly started to unwrap the box. A camera. No. It wasn’t just any camera , it was a real camera. Not a disposable camera , a real one. He was shocked that you spent so much money on this. But he was beyond happy. “ Y/N , you really didn’t have to you know ? “ he said , still in shock. “ I know but , I wanted to. You love photography and I thought it would be a nice appreciation gift. Plus , when we hung out here a month ago , your mom showed me all the photos you’ve taken. They’re beautiful Jaemin. It’s artwork. So I thought you deserve this kind of camera. “ , you said sweetly to him. Why were you so perfect ? And why were you the most kind hearted and selfless person he had ever met ? And why was he feeling things he had never before ? It was that moment he realized , he had liked you. He didn’t realize it then , but to put it simply , Jaemin was fucked. When he became conscious of how he felt , he only watched those feelings grow stronger.

three.

Junior year had now arose. During sophomore year he met Chenle , Jisung , and Dongyhuck who all became an addition to your now expanded friend group. Jaemin had met them during try outs for the soccer team. He had been acquaintances with Hyuck prior. They had both met in ninth grade biology but they all didn’t become close until sophomore year. You were all inseparable. Friday movie nights were a frequent thing. You loved hanging out with them. But recently, everyone besides you and Jeno , had notice a recent change in Jaemin’s behavior. It had all came about when the two new boys , Mark and Jeno , had transferred to your school the beginning of junior year ( which they quickly became an addition to your friend group ) . The boys didn’t understand why Jaemin always sent Jeno an envious look. Jeno and Jaemin had naturally hit it off when they first had met. Jeno felt understood by Jaemin and Jaemin felt the same exact way. But what Jeno and you failed to realize was that Jaemin slowly had become envious of him in these recent months. The rest of the boys didn’t want to pry on Jaemin because they , themselves , didn’t understand the underlying situation and potential problem. So , they had let it slide due to the well being of their friend group.

Donghyuck had invited the whole group to his house for the usual friday movie night. On Monday , Hyuck sent out a text to the ‘ barbie’s life in the dream house ‘ group chat ( name was Mark’s choice , of course ) the list of food needed and who was to buy what. Donghyuck was never one to care about relatively anything BUT when it came to food he was one specific human being.

“ Did you all get the EXACT food I told you too ? “ , Hyuck said with a raised eyebrow. “ Yes , Yes we did Donghyuck “ , Chenle said. “ And before you ask , I didn’t forget to buy you tteokbokki “ , Jaemin said. “ You’re my favorite Jaemin just so you know “ , Hyuck said , sending a finger heart Jaemin’s way.

When Jaemin saw you walk through the door , he couldn’t help the way his heart had begun to beat so incredibly fast. Jaemin was one to observe every detail of a person. He noticed every small to large detail about you in that moment and he admired it all. He wanted to rush to you and sit right beside you but he saw the way Jeno beat him to it. Jaemin let out a sigh which caused Renjun’s attention. “ Hey you okay Jaemin ? “ , Renjun asked Jaemin. “ Yea uh just stressed “ , he replied. Renjun only nodded , turning away to focus on Chenle who had a bunch of movies in his hands. But Jaemin attempted to move his eyes away from the flirtatious scene infront of him.

“ Hey Jaemin “ , mark said , pulling Jaemin out of his thoughts and trance , “ Did you bring your camera ? We should take a group photo right now like we always do ! “ , mark suggested and everyone cheered. The camera. The one you bought him. You. You. You. Always fucking you. Jaemin shook his heading and grabbed his camera , signaling everyone to gather around. Of course you were right beside Jeno. He pushed a painful feeling down his throat. He clicked the timer button and went to join the photo. After the photo was done he put the camera in his bag and sat beside Donghyuck. And you , of course you were by Jeno.

Chenle suddenly placed all the movies infront of him on the carpet. “ Okay , We need to choose what we are going to watch right ? “ , he said and everyone nodded. “ So that means , Close your eyes and when I call out a movie name , raise your hand if you want to watch it okay ? The movie with the most votes is what were are going to watch. “ , Chenle explained. “ Since when were you so bossy Mr. Zhong Chenle ? “ Jeno jokingly asked. And there it was , your beautiful giggle. But again , was it for Jaemin , was it directed towards Jaemin because of something funny he said ? No. Never was it. It was for Jeno as always. Jaemin felt something poking at his throat. Ouch. It hurt but he tried to suppress the pain in order to focus on picking a movie.

“ Okay close your eyes everyone “ , Chenle ordered. “ Zootopia “ “ Rio 2 “ “ The Nun “ “Chucky “ , Chenle named out. “ Okay open now. We have the movie! “ , Chenle announced. “ What is it ? Tell me Tell me “ , you said in the softest voice ever. Jaemin suddenly wanted everything to stop. “ Chucky!” , Chenle said . “ Yay! “ , you cheered , Jeno smiled that perfect eye smile of his , and hugged your arm. This wasn’t good , Jaemin thought. He then felt a pain in his throat and motioned to the others that he was going to the bathroom and would be right back. What is this pain ? It hurt so damn much as if he was going to throw up something unusual.

He was right. Very unusual. Terrifying. Fucking scary. He felt like he was going to faint. Petals. Fucking petals. He threw up goddamn petals. Not just any petals. They were pink carnations. Fucking hell. Jaemin memorized many meanings of flowers. He always thought flowers were beautiful. He loved the fact that each of them had their on individual meaning and significance. But pink carnations, they symbolized “ I’ll never forget you “. Jaemin couldn’t stop freaking out. His hands had begun to uncontrollably shake once he realized what was happening. Hanahaki disease. Fucking hanahaki disease. He hoped this wasn’t it. He really hoped. He tried to pick up his phone and look up what was happening. And damnit , it fucking was hanahaki disease. A disease where a person falls in deep love with someone but the person that their inlove with doesn’t return their feelings so they start throwing up the petals of the favorite flower of the person their inlove with. And if they end up never returning the feelings , you die. A flower will form in your throat causing the thorns to kill you. But there is always chance that they might love you back , a very small chance. And he was throwing up pink carnations. How fucking relevant.

Jaemin quickly realized that if he didn’t clean up the bathroom quick and go back to the living room , they are all going to start worrying. But he knew he couldn’t stay. It hadn’t fully hit him that he was going to possibly die soon , but he was aware and there was no way in hell way he going to go back there and quicken the process. He quickly ran out the door to the living room and attempted to give some shitty ass excuse to get the hell out of there before something bad happens.

“ Hey guys , I just don’t feel well. I think I am just going to go home and get some rest “ , He said apologetically. “ Oh bye Jaemin! I love you “ you said smiling. That hurt. It hurt so much but he bottled it all up. “ Yea we love you! Get home safe “ , Jeno said waving bye with the other boys. That hurt worse.

Why was the world so unfair to Jaemin ? Why was the world such a shitty and unfortunate place ? And why did Jaemin have to live on a time limit ? Jaemin couldn’t do this. Three years of his life he has spent liking you and now he finds out he is going to die because of it ? How much more shitty could life possibly get ?

The sky wasn’t completely dark. There was enough light to take photos. Photography was his forever safety. He grabbed his camera and took pictures of every beautiful thing he could find. But you were the most beautiful thing of all. Yet he couldn’t obtain you. He could only imagine you both in an alternative universe.

He suddenly remembered all the photos he took of you on this camera when you both hung out. He sighed , “ What am I going to do “.

Jaemin didn’t even realize then , life could get even more shitty than it already was.

four.

A month had passed. All weekend long , Jaemin was restless. At this point , he could say he was officially sleep deprived. His mind was filled with you. Of all things it had to be you , always. But Jaemin knew it was not the same for you. He could see the platonic love you held for him in your eyes.

Jaemin was dreading Monday. School in general felt like a waste of time , but you being there made the petals in his throat grow.

Throughout the weekend he realized how the petals gradually got worse. On Saturday you had asked him to facetime you so he could help you pick out an outfit for dinner with your family. Of course Jaemin agreed but seeing you look so effortlessly beautiful just increased the pain in his chest. But by Sunday it was not as painful. He spent the whole day off of his phone trying to avoid you. But Monday rolled around and he was not prepared. When was he ever ?

“ Jaemin wake up you have school in 30 minutes! “ , his mom yelled across the house. “ I’m getting dressed mom “ , he yelled back. He quickly threw on a simple and comfy outfit. He ran to the kitchen , grabbing a quick breakfast then headed straight to his vehicle to get to school. The whole way there he could feel his phone vibrating with messages which he assumed were from the group chat.

After he arrived at school he took out his phone and read the messages.

y/n 🌺 : hey !! do you guys want to go for boba later this week ??

ducky : yes madam 😏⁉️

markie mark : YES ?? OFC ?? 🙃

He turned off his phone , finding the conversation irrelevant in the moment , and headed to his first class , algebra. Jaemin wasn’t as fond of math as he was of other subjects. It quite frankly frustrated him. He never seemed to guess the answers correctly , though he was thankful to be passing the class ( thanks to Chenle’s help of course ). Jaemin was fond of art. Primarily because photography was incorporated into art and he was able to portray his talent in there. He counted down the class periods he had up until art class. 2. Two more classes left until art.

When English and History had passed , he made his way to the art classroom . During the day , he managed to speak to you and the other guys a little but he seemed off to them. But Jaemin was not the type to give in even if people keep on bothering him with questions, so they gave up. But Renjun was slowly catching on to something. Why would he ever let this odd behavior be unattended to ? This is his best friend after all , but he didn’t want to bother so quickly yet.

Jaemin loved and hate art class in this moment. The pros were that he got to pursue something he loves and be transparently himself. But the main con was , you shared this class together.

“ Hey Jaemin! “ , you said happily. “ Oh hi Y/N “ , he said nervously. You frowned at his sudden awkward behavior but let it go when the teacher walked in.

He could feel a petal threatening to be coughed up but it took all his power stored in his body to shoved it back down.

“ Good after noon class! Today I have assigned you all with a task. This project is due within 2 weeks time. Last month , if you remember , you all took a vote on what your next big project will be based around. The results were photography! I discussed with some of my colleagues that are photographers what would be best to have this project be on. We decided each of you will be assigned a partner. You and your partner will be give a specific theme. This will count as an exam grade , Understood ? “ , she concluded and everyone nodded. Jaemin was beyond happy to be given such a project.

Mrs. Choi , the art teacher , was going around the class calling out who was paired with who and what their theme was. She gradually made her way to you snd Jaemin’s seat , you both so happened to sit right beside each other. How ironic.

“ I have decided to pair you to together for this project. You both seem to work together very well and accomplish tasks extremely well. Your theme is beauty found within each other. I suggest finding a landscape which best suits you both individually as that can help you find what beauty is stored within you. Try your best to portray what you both think is beautiful in each other while incorporating a landscape which suits you both! “ , she said. “ Good luck!”

Funny thing is , Jaemin had already made a mental note a long time ago of every thing about you that was beautiful. He already knew what best suited you. He could name everything about you and tell you how it was so incredible to him.

Could you do the same ? Jaemin had already been aware of the answer to that question since he became aware of his own feelings towards you. His thoughts were so incredibly crowded that the only thing that broke his inner voice was the petals that were about to arise because of the overwhelming feeling of love for you pumping throughout his chest.

“ I’m going to go to the bathroom right quick. “ , he said. You only nodded , watching him rush out of the classroom quickly.

He tried his best to maneuver through the halls as fast as he could without drawing any attention. Luckily , when he reached the bathroom , no one besides him was present. He began throwing up the petals that were grown inside of his chest. He hated this life.

Jaemin had already walked back to the classroom after five minutes. Only a few minutes after arriving to the classroom , the lunch bell had rang.

“ Hey , Jaemin just text me when you are free next week so we start on this project , okay ? I am so excited ! “ , you announced.

Jaemin didn’t go to lunch. Instead he sat in the bathroom waiting for the last bell to ring.

Thursday had came around the corner fast. You had been blowing up his phone with messages for him not to miss the gathering at the local boba shop or he would ‘ get the boot ‘.

Jaemin quickly grabbed his grey hoodie you bought him , how ironic again , and headed out the door.

Upon arriving at the boba shop , he couldn’t help but notice through the clear glass window how you and Jeno were so close , flirting even. His heart ached even more but he pushed it aside and decided to put on a mask and walk in.

“ Oh Jaemin ! You are here , finally. “ , Jeno said hugging Jaemin. “ Yeah sorry I am a little late. My mom needed help with some yard work “ , he said. lie. Jaemin was extremely hesitant about coming. Why would he want to ? It hurt too much , but he did it for you.

One hour had passed and all Jaemin did was here Marks stupid jokes and about how Donghyuck had “ accidentally “ thrown Jisung’s ipad into a wishing well one summer vacation. And oh , let’s not forget you laughing at Jeno’s horrible jokes. They weren’t even that funny , he thought.

And then he saw it. He heard Jeno whisper , “ If you kiss me on the cheek , I will buy you some more boba!! “ , to you , while smiling. And then you had kissed him on the cheek.

It was immature for Jaemin to feel upset , but he justified his emotions by the fact he felt a petal about to come out. He again , like always , motioned that he was going to the bathroom.

And again there was a petal from a pink carnation. How fucking nice. Needless to say , Jaemin got out of there with an excuse before he could near his death more.

He didn’t bother showing up for the weekly Friday movie night. But no one asked questions. He felt alone , yet again. But who could he tell his tragic ending to ? It only felt as if it would make worse of his situation.

About a week passed and it was Wednesday. About this time last week you had arranged for you and Jaemin to meet up and the park at around 4pm for this art project. You both were equally excited , maybe Jaemin even more. He just couldn’t express it.

By the time he arrived , he saw you were already there , playing with the ducks. He took this opportunity to capture a picture of you in this moment. You were so beautiful , he thought.

Once you felt a presence behind you , you turned around but softened your gaze once your recognized it was him.

“ Oh hi! Are you ready to start ? “ , you asked.

“ Oh yeah of course ! While you were playing with the ducks , I took a photo of you. It fits you. Maybe we could use it ? “ , he shyly said.

“ Let me see Nana! “ , you said excitedly. His heart was about to fucking burst. “ Oh okay here “ , he showed his camera your way.

“ It’s so good ? You truly have a way with cameras. Okay now take some more of me over here by the pond! “ , you stated. He aimed his camera at you , clicking the button. You were perfect.

“ Nana let me take some of you! “ , you said , reaching out your hands to grab the camera. “ Okay “ , he replied while walking to a tree and posing. click. You smiled at the photos you had taken while handing him the camera back.

Two hours had passed and he could feel that this was about to come to an end today , just not in the way he had anticipated.

Your phone had started ringing and he could see a certain realization had hit you. You quickly picked it up and hung about after about a minute.

“ Oh that was Jeno. He called me to remind me of our date tonight. I am really excited! But unfortunately I need to head home to get ready. Good night ! Don’t forget to send me those pictures of you for the project ! Bye bye , Love you Nana “ , you said apologizing while waving bye. He couldn’t make out words. He was caught off guard. He zoned out for a second and then realized you were gone.

All these emotions had hit him. He didn’t know how to process. You were going out with Jeno. Not Jaemin , Jeno. Fucking Jeno. Why him ?

Jaemin felt everything crash down. He couldn’t breathe probably. Petals were threatening to come out and he couldn’t help but hide behind a tree in the dark while letting them come out. He was so hopeless. He had no idea how much he had left. Why was the world so cruel to Jaemin ? What had he done to deserve such a fate ? Why suddenly did he have to live on a time limit ? He thought again it couldn’t get worse.

Yet he was always proved wrong at this thought.

Out of nowhere , Renjun appeared and said , “ Jaemin ? Is that you ? Are you okay ? “.

In fact it got worse. He was fucked, big time.

[whimsywispsblog]

Wispie's Masterlist

Hello Wispies! Here's the masterlist of all my fanfics and blogs!

Side blog- CherriesandSins - For all the Classic Rock RPF

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Guidelines:

i)Will write one-shots and HCs for Witcher (game and series) Resident Evil, Stranger Things (preferably Eddie Munson), Hunger Games, Call of Duty Characters: preferably from the Modern Warfare franchise (2009 and 2019), Cold War, Black Ops, World War 2 and Advanced Warfare.

ii) Won't be writing NSFW.

iii)Best at writing sad fics and angst, but romantic fics are welcome!

CALL OF DUTY (Videogame)

Russell Adler

Series: All's Not Fair in Love and War (Adler x OC)

A little series about Adler and his S/O, Rei -she's a psychiatrist responsible for Bell's MK-Ultra.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Series: Red (Adler x OC)

A necklace and the tales of her Dada's bravery- the only two things in this world of disdain and contempt that push her to achieve her goal: To bring her Dada the justice he deserves.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Oneshots:

Betrayed

THE BUTT!

Russell Adler x Bell!Reader: Identity Crisis

Adler x Male!Soviet Reader

Valentine's Day with Adler!

Piercings!

Birthday Oneshot for Adler!

Adler Gets a Facial Pamper!

Cuddling with Adler

Broken

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

General Hcs of Kyle with his S/O

A Blushing Mess

Alex Mason

Escape

Vikhor 'Stitch' Kuzmin

Spades

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Vermilion

RESIDENT EVIL 8

Karl Heisenberg

Tears and Sorrow

The Broken Song of the Wolf and the Doll

Saudade

Bleeding Hearts

Fault in Our Stars

Never Give Up On Me

Salvatore Moreau

A Lonely Night

Donna Beneviento

Hauntingly Beautiful

The Broken Song of the Wolf and the Doll

Bleeding Hearts

Fault in Our Stars

Alcina Dimitrescu

Lullaby

Cassandra Demitrescu

Nothing more

Chris Redfield

Saudade

Chris Redfield x Curvy Reader

Judas Kiss

Nothing more

WITCHER

Yennefer of Vengerberg

Only Time Would Tell

HUNGER GAMES

BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES

Coriolanus Snow

Every Rose Has Its Thorn Unforgiven

FANART

Donna Beneviento

Russell Adler x Bell

PLAYLISTS

RUSSELL ADLER SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY CORIOLANUS SNOW

[spilledkauffie]

I Feel It Again, The Pull. . .

Pairing: Ben Solo x ForceSensitive!Reader Word Count: 2.4k T/W: intrusive thoughts, physical harm (blood, bruises), death idealisation, fluff at the end A/N:  vent fic, yiiikes! (song I binged)

Please read at your own discretion, Loves! Don’t read if it’ll trigger you! Take care of yourself and your mental health first!

Your visions brought you back to the same place, yet you never knew exactly where you were. It was dark, always dark and you were always alone. There was a stillness surrounding you, but the air was uneasy, wind whipped against you. Small granules of salt scraped across the surface of your skin, if you stood there long enough, you were certain they’d begin to leave reddening scratches; somehow burning while remaining cold. Looking down, you saw the familiar cove of water, it crashed against the rocks methodically, violently. Sea foam climbed the rocks as if they were hands reaching up for you. For a moment the rocks looked soft and frothy, like clouds against a dark background. But when the water receded the sharp points were again revealed. So there you stood.

When the visions had first begun you were scared. They frightened you, even within them you had tried to escape, run, call for help, something. But now it scared you more that you didn’t mind being stuck within them, at times they had seemed better than reality. You’d become familiar with standing on the edge of what you didn’t know, and had given up trying to find out. Crossing your arms around each other, as if hugging yourself, you breathed. This time you didn’t look down, you closed your eyes and swayed with the wind, it was pushing you, calling to you, “come.” You exhaled and let the wind sweep you off your feet, beginning to fall forward--

A gentle, but firm touch brought you back. . . to the marketplace. Your eyes were wide and your breathing was silently heavy in your chest. Turning your head slightly, you met Ben’s face. He looked worried. You suddenly became aware of the pain you were inflicting on yourself; your nails dug deep into the skin of your forearm. Releasing your grip, minorly shocked yourself that you hadn’t felt it sooner, your hand hovered shakily over the place it had just been attached to. Little purple crescents were already forming from where your nails had been. 

Looking up, you hoped you hadn’t been gone for very long, “y-yes?” You asked, feeling as though you’d missed an important question. 

Ben was still for a moment, eyebrows knitting a little further together, before he tried to return to a normal expression best he could, “I just asked if you saw the necklaces?” 

His voice was soft and quiet, sounding like a much softer space you could get lost in. He pointed with the opposite hand that wasn’t touching you to the small little ugnaught holding out a necklace out towards you. She was trying very hard to make the best possible display of the gathered shells.

“Oh,” you followed his point, seeing the small figure stretching out its arms up at you, trying her best to show you the necklace, you exhaled, “yes,” forcing a smile, that you desperately wanted to be real, “they’re so lovely. I’d like to get this one specifically.” 

The child smiled and giggled, overjoyed with her first sale. Rushing back to her parents at the booth with the credits you had handed her, they quickly, but gently, reminded her that she’d forgotten to actually give you the item in her excitement. With a blushed shyness she walked back towards you a little. 

“It’s okay,” you assured her, ironic, those words coming out of your mouth.

She draped the shells in your hand and skipped back to find a new one to showcase for her new found public. You glanced down at your hand, the voice you had heard in your vision spoke again, this time in a whisper, crush them, break them, you don’t deserve something so precious, you never should have taken them from that innocent child— you twitched your head to the side for a moment as if in pain; it was rare that it spoke to you outside of the visions and that still frightened you. Ben’s hand was still on your arm and you felt his hand slip down into yours, softly bringing you to walk with him again. You tucked the necklace safely into your satchel, before you actually did anything. 

“They said it’s the rarest shells in the whole desert,” Ben explained as you walked along, “she made it herself.”

“They did?” You asked, to yourself, wondering how much more you’d missed, “they’re lovely.”

Ben turned to look at you, curious at the repetition that was usually not like you. He noticed the dazed look across your face. Then flicked his gaze down to your arm, where the partially swollen crescents were turning into bruises. Your hand was loose in his, you made no attempt to hold his back. Your head was somewhere else. Ben tried to connect with you, but he just saw darkness, to him it was quiet, he didn’t see what you did and he never heard the voice you heard. He tried again, but nothing. Looking to you for any sign of...well, anything he found nothing. He saw you wince and furrow your eyebrows again.

“Are you feeling okay? You look a little tired,” He asked, no answer, “we’ve been in the sun for a while maybe we should-“

“I’m fine Kylo,” you snapped, faster than you thought about the words. He swallowed at hearing that name again; both of you paused. Lowering your head swiftly, you bit your tongue, slowly until you tasted traces blood. Already you were hurting other people, just as you feared; a sudden longing for that darkened fall came to mind, was that selfish? “Ben, I meant Ben.”

Knowing he didn’t mean to, he gave you a smirk that made you feel worse, “it’s getting late anyway,” he gestured towards the suns, shrugging, “we should head home.”

You nodded, not wanting to say another thing, for fear of knives coming out instead of words. In the beginning you wondered why he hadn’t been able to sense it all inside your head, then you realised no one could ever understand what was really going on inside of you. Methodically, you followed Ben’s steps home, hand still in his. The evening was silent, you kept to yourself as much as possible despite how Ben tried to continually draw you into conversations, you answered in short and insisted it was simple because ‘he was right earlier’ and you were just ‘tired.’

You retired to your shared bedroom early, but as much as you tried to find sleep, it evaded you. Staring at the wall in the dark, you almost forgot to blink, you were so lost in your mind. Darkness came when you least wanted it, but when you actually wanted it as relief it was as if it didn’t exist, only making you long for it further. Knowing it was wrong, you tried to think of all the beautiful things in your life. You realised they didn’t necessarily need you, ‘life would go on, you’d be-, you tried, harder than ever to push the voice back. Your eyes burned from not blinking now, why were you doing this to yourself? 

It was such an effort mentally that it physically affected you; finding your lip quivering and eyes watering you held your breath when Ben came to bed. You felt the bed shift as he carefully as he tried not to disturb you. He leaned over to you, kissing your cheek with a soft, “I love you,” before he turned to settle on his side of the bed.

Exhaling, you blinked. Those were just the words you needed. Hearing his voice saying those words sounded better than any voice in your head could offer. Ben’s words reminded you that you were loved, you were needed, and you were priceless to him. His life would not just ‘go on’ without you. . . 

However, the peace only lasted a moment, the voice still tried to convince you otherwise. A momentary, but vivid, vision pulled you in. The wind was stronger this time, the voice was louder, not a whisper but a scream. Even as you tried to keep your feet steady on the edge it nudged you forward. Snapping back to reality just before the fall, you found sleep to be pointless and abandoned any attempt at it. Getting up, you made your way to the bathroom where you stared into the mirror.

It took the breath out of you. This vision wasn’t over, your reflection wasn’t your own, or at least not how you wanted to see yourself. There was a brewing darkness. The eyes staring back at you were tinged with a glowing amber, ‘come closer,’ your reflection spoke. You felt it, a pull, a physical pull, to the glass. ‘You’re no good there,’ the reflection told you, ‘come,’ you lifted your hand, but stopped; a rescuing “I love you” rang louder for once. 

Before you knew what was happening you heard your name being yelled fervidly. Looking to your left you found Ben, disheveled and out of breath in the doorway. Glancing to the mirror, there was nothing there anymore. You then followed Ben’s glance down to the hand you had in front of you. Your fingers were balled into a fist, it was streaked with red droplets making their way down your forearm. 

Breathing heavily you swallowed, “Ben?” you asked, as if really asking what had happened.

“You’re okay, it’ll be okay,” he immediately rushed to you, only the slightest worry in his voice, “it’s okay.” 

You practically fell into his arms, dazed. He sat you on the edge of the tub and crouched down to your level, dark messy hair in his face. You watched as he gently used the force to pull any glass from your skin, after that he blotted your forearm down before touching you, transferring some healing force into you. The wound healed in no time and you wished the wounds in your mind could be patched that easy. There were tears in your eyes that you hadn’t even felt form, but they were there and they were streaming down your cheek.

“You’re okay. . .you’re okay,” Ben said repeatedly, as he looked up, caressing your hand and pressing his lips against your skin; in truth he was more so assuring himself that you were okay. He let the silence settle before he spoke, “can- can you tell me what happened?”

You avoided his eyes, absolutely stunned that you didn’t even remember hitting the mirror.

“Sweetheart-” he was about to try again, when you softly cut him off.

“There’s a dark violence, a voice, within me,” you explained, quietly and slowly for fear of sounding crazier than you already felt, “I thought it was gone for a while, but it’s back and it’s more powerful than I think I can handle alone.”

You looked to meet his eyes, they were warm, they always were when he looked at you. He didn’t look at you like you were crazy, he didn’t look at you and pretend to understand everything, he looked at you because he was listening. The first person you’d ever met who just listened, so you let him in more.

“I have these thoughts,” you took a deep breath, “I’m standing at an edge, and sometimes I give in, sometimes I stay still, but sometimes it drags me down,” you looked directly to him, “but...this last time, I couldn’t stop it, I didn’t have a choice,” your chest heaved; you felt the tears form this time, and you were reminded how much you hated crying, “I’m scared, Ben,” you admitted, attempting to steady your voice, “I’m more scared than I’ve ever been before.”

He nodded, hand still holding yours, the other resting atop your knee softly, just to let you know he was physically there and so were you. 

“I want to help you, in any way I can,” Ben began, “but I will not pretend to know how to do that.”

You sniffled a little, looking down and nodding subtly, silently thanking him for being honest, instead of pretending he had answers.

“I can tell you how much I don’t want you to take that step though,” Ben lifted your chin with a finger, “I don’t want you to go, you’re still needed here, you’re loved here and,” he lifted his eyebrows, softly smiling, “and maybe I’m selfish, but I need you here more than you know.” 

You shook your head, “that’s not selfish,” suddenly your throat felt tight again, as if the tears were caught there, stopping you from breathing, “that’s just love I don’t deserve.”

Ben hushed a quiet, ‘no, no, sweetheart,’ caressing your cheek as you lowered your face crying. Your forehead pressed down against his, he felt your tears against his cheek and heard you try to soften your cries best you could.

Trying not to cry himself at seeing you in such a pain he could not understand nor see himself, he assured you with his presence, “you deserve more love than you know and even more than I can give, that’s why I need you to show yourself some too.”

You pulled back slightly confused, and Ben continued, “I can’t see inside your mind, but I do know that these visions do not define you,” He brought both his hands to your face, thumbs wiping away your tears, even though they continued to fall, “I know that it is really hard to believe you’re something better than your worst parts, but there’s so much more to you that I want you to see it.”

You didn’t know how to respond, you just stared at him, tear stained skin and wet eyes, reddened from crying. For once you didn’t think about how you looked, because you were feeling something you’d never felt before, a true genuine care, that you’d never even given yourself.

“And that’s what I can be here to do,” he smiled, “to remind you that there’s so much love in you; you need to give yourself some of it. Can you do that, for yourself, for me?”

“I can try,” you responded.

“That’s enough,” he said immediately, “your trying is tougher than you know.”

“Thank you,” you said, voice slightly hoarse from all the previous crying.

He lifted himself slightly, just enough to wrap his arms around you, bringing you closely and softly into a hug. You responded, slipping your arms around him, pressing your face into the side of his neck. The tips of his hair tickled your nose as you nuzzled against his warm skin. You clung to him, and relaxed in his embrace, exhaling a breath you felt had been trapped in you for years. 

He felt so safe, he felt like home.

[kingstylesdaily]

How Harry Styles Emerged From Teen Pop Sensation To First-Time GRAMMY Nominee

For British singer/songwriter Harry Styles, 2020 was a career-defining year, bolstered by the December 2019 release of his GRAMMY-nominated sophomore solo album, 'Fine Line'

HEDY PHILLIPS

Though many people might want to write off 2020 as a year that never existed, for others, it was a year of growth, change and even success. For Harry Styles, 2020 was a career-defining year, which is no easy feat when the entire world is shut down. The pandemic left him no choice but to put his world tour plans on pause and strategize a new way to not just promote his sophomore album, Fine Line, released in December 2019, but also keep fans' attention.

What followed was a bit of a phenomenon.

Styles, who has been a star since his One Direction days, became a bigger star with every passing day. His album went multi-platinum, he got his first Billboard Hot 100 No. 1 single with "Watermelon Sugar," he was named Variety's 2020 Hitmaker of the Year, he landed his first-ever GRAMMY nominations of his career (Best Pop Solo Performance for "Watermelon Sugar," Best Music Video for "Adore You" and Best Pop Vocal Album for Fine Line at the 2021 GRAMMY Awards show). And the list goes on.

While these accomplishments would add up to a banner year for any artist, what makes it so unique for the British singer is twofold. For one, he's been in the business for a decade already, gaining fame at just 17 as a member of the huge boy band One Direction. While in the group, which came together in 2010 as part of "The X-Factor," Styles and his bandmates Liam Payne, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik found global success, selling millions of records, performing in sold-out stadiums around the world and winning many awards.

However, despite how massive the band became, they didn't quite crossover to listeners of all ages—they had a hard time shaking the boy band label. While their music evolved into a more mature rock sound over the years, they never got to a place where they were wholly appreciated by the public in a way that their fans knew they deserved.

Once the band went on hiatus in 2015, Styles went to work creating his first solo album, Harry Styles. It was released in 2017 to much fanfare (it also debuted at No. 1 on the Billboard 200), but it wasn't until his second solo album that he really hit his stride. With Fine Line he found his musical voice and shared an album that not only resonated with his core fanbase but also brought him further into the mainstream.

From the first single released off the album ("Lights Up" in October 2019) all the way to the most recent video ("Treat People With Kindness" in January 2021), Fine Line has continued to grow. It was with this album that Styles became a household name, disconnected from his boy band roots in a way like never before. Gone are the days where people refer to him as "Harry Styles from One Direction." Now Styles stands alone, proud of where he came from but boldly moving forward on his own path.

The even more stunning part of Styles' year, though, and the second reason 2020 was so out of this world for him, he largely let his fanbase spread the good word about his art. Fans on social media hosted streaming parties for "Watermelon Sugar" to ensure it hit Billboard's No. 1 spot. They've created and sold their own merchandise to advertise his music. As only a dedicated stan army can do, they've made sure that every single thing he does goes viral. Even though Styles himself has a limited social media presence, he's still one of the most noteworthy internet personalities, simply because his fans have kept him there. In a world where social media reigns supreme, he lets his work speak for itself and trusts in his partnership with his fans to help him succeed.

The impact of Fine Line was substantial. Because of it, he is currently in the running for his first three GRAMMYs--Best Pop Vocal Album, Best Music Video for "Adore You" and Best Pop Solo Performance for "Watermelon Sugar." And the numbers also back up his work. Fine Line is RIAA certified double platinum, has over 4 billion worldwide streams and spawned six songs that cracked the Billboard Top 100 chart.

Before the album's release, to promote "Adore You," Styles and Columbia Records created a mysterious world called Eroda that trended before anyone even knew it was for a music video. "Watermelon Sugar" became one of the songs of the pandemic summer after the video dedicated to human touch—which has over 194 million views on YouTube—was released in May 2020.

Not one to ever let the album get stale, Styles continued to remind listeners of its existence throughout 2020, even though the world had shut down and in-person promo wasn't an option. Before that, though, Styles caused a buzz as he took double duty on "Saturday Night Live" in November 2019 as the host and musical guest, as well as performing in BBC Radio1's Live Lounge the following month. After a few shows in Los Angeles, London, and New York in late 2019 and early 2020, Styles hunkered down amid COVID and let his music videos do the talking. Aside from "Watermelon Sugar," he released a video for "Falling" in February and "Golden" in October. Fans may not have gotten to see Styles on the road in 2020, but he made sure to keep popping up on their screens, including a virtual appearance at iHeart Radio's Jingle Ball(opens in a new tab) in December, one of his only in 2020.

But 2020 wasn't only a great year for Styles' music, he also graced multiple fashion magazine covers, continued his relationship with Gucci, and even landed a second major movie role, in Olivia Wilde's upcoming Don't Worry Darling. Not only was he Vogue's first man to pose on a cover alone, he did it wearing a dress. He's continued to quietly advocate for genderless fashion by wearing what makes him happy, whether it's fishnets for Beauty Papers or his everyday pearl necklace. Though many rock stars before him pushed similar gender-bending trends, he's become that person for his generation.

Styles even influenced countless people in lockdown to take up knitting, simply to recreate the J.W. Anderson rainbow patchwork cardigan he wore during a rehearsal for the "Today" show in February. After a few fans fumbled through knitting a copycat, the fashion house published a pattern that spread like wildfire. Suddenly TikTok was flooded with people knitting "The Sweater," and fans all over the world showed off their matching rainbow cardigans in their Instagram selfies from home.

As much as the phrase has been bandied about in recent months, it still holds true: It's Harry Styles' world and we're all just living in it. Despite all the setbacks and hardships, 2020 defined Styles as an artist—not just a musician, but a whole artist. It seems inevitable that Styles will only continue to grow his star power as he draws in more fans for this journey. For those devoted fans who have been there for him since he was just a teenager singing "What Makes You Beautiful," though, his meteoric rise in 2020 just made sense.

via Grammy.com

[sammy-gvf]

Buckys Pin

- IMAGINE/ONESHOT-

40s!Bucky Barnes x reader

Age restriction : None

Warnings : None, just pure fluff

Preface -

Bucky’s last night at home.

The year was 1943.

Brooklyn was beautiful this time of year. There was so much to do in town on the warm summer nights, it was like a dream. Tonight though, I am seeing my sweetheart Bucky and we are going to the Stark Expo, something about the future of technology. I could care less about the contents of the expo though, it’s my last night with James.

Sergeant James Barnes is set to leave for the Army, the 107th. Shipping out to England tomorrow.

It was hard enough to see him go for bootcamp, now who knows the next time he will be home.

Bucky has been my man for a long time, even since before the whole draft thing. He is such a beautiful person, a gentleman. We have gone on countless dates and have had many beautiful moments together, I just hope that he is safe when he is away. I can't bear to lose him. Ever.

I will write to him every day. Every. Single. Day.

It's almost 6 oclock, I should probably get ready.

I slip on a beautiful but comfortable dress. It's a blue floral knee length dress that puffs out a little down near the waist with a little plunge in the front. I just know my father is going to make a fuss.

It's my last night with Bucky, I might as well dress a little special for him.

I finish up my hair letting the curls fall down to my shoulder, fluffing them up with a comb and the final touch, hairspray of course. Perfume and a little powder with a red lip should finish the look.

I suddenly hear a knock at the door.

“ Dang it, what time is it “ You start to rush around to find a clock around you.

You check the time. 6:00 on the dot

“ Bucky is always on time, not a bad quality” You say to yourself chuckling, grabbing your things and putting your shoes on.

You grab your blue cardigan and clutch, heading out your bedroom door and into the living room. You get to the living room, looking to the front door where your father and Bucky are standing there talking. Your parents and Bucky have always gotten along for the past 5 years of your dating Bucky. Never a problem, only when he would bring you home late from dancing, which was fine with you. Dancing was your guy's thing, the swaying and the subtle touch of Bucky's hands around your waist just made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Above the clouds, never wanting to come down. Slow dancing was intimate with him, you could smell his cologne and feel his freshly shaved face against your cool skin. You always closed your eyes and wondered how you got so lucky with such a down to earth man. Your hands touch and you lay your head on his shoulder, relaxing against him as you sway along to the beat of the music. His hand in yours, caressing the skin of your hand with his thumbs. He is yours.

Bucky and your dad turn around and turn towards you, both of their faces lighting up with glowing smiles. Bucky has a bouquet of flowers in hand, special for you. Your father knew it was the last time you were seeing Bucky for a long time, so he let a hug and kiss slide in front of him. He knew his little girl's heart was going to be missing a piece of her heart the minute Bucky drops you off at home after your date.

“ You look absolutely stunning doll” Bucky says to you as you give him a wide toothed smile, he always knew how to make you feel like you outshined the other girls

He hands you the bouquet of red roses and you quickly give it to your father to put in a vase.

“ Oh! I forgot to get something for you, hold on just a minute Buck” You say as you shove your clutch into Bucky's hand to hold real quick, him letting out a chuckle and you rush off to your room.

You were going to give him a necklace you had made for him. A sort of parting gift.

It’s a beautiful gold link chain necklace with a circle locket with a picture of you on one side of the locket and on the other side, a picture of you and Bucky.

Something to help him keep you close to him, even during combat. So he knows you are always with him no matter what. No matter where he goes.

You rush out of your room to see your father and Bucky talking on the couch, roses in a vase on the table in front of them making the room smell beautifully. Bucky rises and shakes your fathers hand and you give your father a kiss on the cheek. You take Bucky's hand and he guides you to his car, he opens the door for you and helps you get in.

“ Doll, we are going to have a wonderful night together, I don't want to see you upset.” Bucky says turning towards you while he buckles himself in.

You start to tear up a little bit knowing that this is it. You just have to hold it in.

“ It just feels surreal, you know?” You say looking at him. He has the most beautiful blue eyes you have ever seen. Everytime he looks at you, his eyes sparkle and you just get lost in them.

“ I know, love.” He says as he raises his hand to caress your cheek where one single tear is finding its way down your skin. The skin of his hand is soft but there's always going to be a certain roughness to them.

You raise your hand to his and hold it as he holds his hand to your face, still holding your slender cheek. Sharing a moment, you just sit there in silence.

He pulls his hand away gently from your face and puts the keys in the ignition.

“We are going to be late, we should get going baby” He says, giving a sort of smirk to you which instantly makes you smile.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You say as you put your seatbelt on, the car starts up and you hear a faint song on the radio, it's quite low.

You guys arrive shortly after being on the road for about 15 minutes, you get out and the sight in front of you makes your eyes glow.

It really is something like you have never seen before. Bright lights and extravagant displays in cases around you as you walk around together, marveling at the stuff on display. Bucky is especially interested in the flying car that Howard Stark is working on.

You continue to walk around with Bucky, looking up at him as you walk together to get glimpses of his beautiful side profile. His hair is hidden by his hat, he has the most beautiful soft brown locks that are always combed to the side to look sleek. His cheekbones are prominent and his pink lips are perfectly soft and plump on their own, his cupids bow is what ties his lips together.

As the night starts to end, you start to realize that you need to give him what you brought with you.

You are sitting on a bench together, people watching like you guys usually do when you go for a picnic with him in the park.

“Did you have fun?” You ask him, he grabs your hand and holds it in his with both hands wrapped around your small hands.

“ Of course,I did. This is how I wanted to spend my last night, with you by my side experiencing what I have left of civilian life.” He says smiling at you, he suddenly gets closer to you holding your hand with his right hand and he slips his left over your shoulder, pulling you close to him.

You lay your head on his shoulder, taking in the world around you. The smells of candy floss and popcorn fill the air, intoxicating your lungs. You slowly put your hand in your pocket as you watch bucky, who is still staring out into the distance admiring the view in front of him.

“I want to give you something, love.” You say, he turns to you and has a smug expression on his face. You hand him the box and you wait to see his reaction.

“ Go ahead, open it” You say nervously.

Bucky slowly opens the box and takes the chain out of it. He holds it up looking at it with admiration, as if he has never received something so beautiful like this.

“Open it, Buck” You say. He opens the locket and starts to get teary eyed, knowing that you put a lot of thought into your gift. He turns to you and gives you a gentle kiss and then stands you both up. He towers over you. He takes your hands and gives you the locket, he turns around and motions you to put it on him. You do with no hesitation. He turns around to face you, taking your hands and looking into your eyes.

“Doll, I love you with every fiber of my being. I will wear this every single day and touch it every time I need a reminder of my girl. You are so perfect and more than I have ever deserved.”

Bucky says, he brings you closer and brings you in for a hug that turns into a bit of a slow dance, the music in the background adding an ambiance.

After the song has ended, you pull away from each other and walk to the car hand in hand, reveling in the moments you have left together.

The ride home is silent but there's a mutual understanding in the air. Not of anger or sadness but of enjoying eachothers company, just being within distance of each other brings a feeling of comfort.

You reach the door of your house and you two just stand there together holding hands. Your father said to be home by 10, it's 9:50. You have only 10 minutes left with your lover boy.

“Buck, I-” You start to say but you are cut off by a soft kiss, his hands are caressing your cheeks and your hands wander up to hold his jaw. You feel as though the kiss lasted forever but it only lasted about a minute, you just wanted it to last a lifetime. He backs up from your face slowly, taking in your soft features.

You start to get visibly upset but you're trying to hold it in for him.

“ Babydoll, I just want you to remember all the good times we have had. Remember when we made Steve ride the Cyclone at Coney Island and he threw up everywhere? Or when we first met? God, I thought I saw an angel in those high school hallways. Steve had to hit me to come back to earth. I had to muster up the courage to come ask you on a date. It was the best decision I have and ever will make. You looked ravishing in the dress you chose to wear when we went dancing for the first time, I almost lost my cool. Not in a bad way, just wanted to pick you up and twirl you around and kiss ya. I’m not leaving forever, doll. I will be back for you, love.” He says holding your face.

You chuckle through the tears that are falling down your cheeks, taking a moment to calm down, you step away for a second to look at your watch on your wrist. The clock strikes 10 o’clock.

You turn around suddenly and give Bucky the tightest hug you could muster up, squeezing him with all your might, never wanting to let up. You pull back and give him a passionate kiss, hoping it will last forever but you start seeing movement in your house. You pull away from Bucky and touch his chest where his pins are. You sneakily take a pin that's on his collar and he just takes a minute to chuckle and let you think you did something sneaky.

The door opens revealing your father and mother.

Bucky turns to you, giving you one final kiss on the cheek.

“Goodnight,doll. Sleep well. I love you. See you soon.” He says to you. All you can do is mouth back “ I love you more, goodbye” to him. You feel like if you mutter one word, you'll completely lose it.

You slowly turn to face your parents and you hear him scream out

“ It's not goodbye doll, it’s see you later.” He says. You stand there with your parents as you watch him drive off.

You hold the pin to your heart, keeping it close always.

—————————————————————————————————————

WOW. This was the longest by far. I just hope that you all like the fluff that bucky has to offer!

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in my writing!! I should be making a masterlist soon.

AS ALWAYS, dont forget to like/reblog/comment !

Tags - @buckysdolls , @local-spacegirl , @ladyfallonavenger , @nerdy-depressed , @youcancallmeishita , @not-another-fangirl

[permanentcrossfics]

Better Now Than Later // h.s.

It’d hit him like a tonne of bricks, then.

This bloke shared a bed with you.

He spent night after night with you.

He got to see you naked.

Nauseated hadn’t described the feeling he’d had to swallow back, and chest pains were a step below that funny, fluttery, squeezing thing his heart was doing.

He’d kept waiting for the feeling to go away, but the more it lingered, the worse it got, until he was snappy and irritable with just about everyone. Even seeing you didn’t help, because if you weren’t with the man, you were talking about him, or texting him, or reminding Harry he was waiting for you.

What had started out as wanting to assert that he knew you best had led him to wanting to know you better — to fill the missing holes (no sexual innuendos intended) in the relationship between you — but all of a sudden you weren’t just dating the man, you were living with him. He’d put on a brave face and tried to remind — convince — himself that your happiness was what mattered, but then the engagement had happened and he’d just… snapped.

I wrote this a few years ago -- there are some signs of that left in as Easter eggs for those who have stuck around this long. Happy reading -- thanks for wanting it after all this time x

Read NOW on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad

Now

*

Anybody could’ve told him, and many did. 

“Is there... something going on? Between you and…?”

“What?” 

How often had he shaken his head no? 

“We’re just friends — I love her, but we’re just friends.”

Harry had been happy for you when you started dating your now fiancee. That was the right feeling to have for someone he cared about, right? It was casual, he seemed nice, and if you were happy, he was happy. At first, he was just a lad to have a laugh with, but then… something had changed. He didn’t disrespect you — never that, for which Harry remained grateful to this day — but Harry got the distinct impression that the other man thought he knew you better than Harry did. He’d tried to squash it, because personal relationships were not an arena in which his competitive nature should thrive, but he’d still coiled like a cobra ready to strike back at the insinuation that just because this bloke shared a bed with you, and spent the night, and got to see you naked that he somehow knew you better. 

It’d hit him like a tonne of bricks, then. 

This bloke shared a bed with you.

He spent night after night with you.

He got to see you naked.

Nauseated hadn’t described the feeling he’d had to swallow back, and chest pains were a step below that funny, fluttery, squeezing thing his heart was doing. 

He’d kept waiting for the feeling to go away, but the more it lingered, the worse it got, until he was snappy and irritable with just about everyone. Even seeing you didn’t help, because if you weren’t with the man, you were talking about him, or texting him, or reminding Harry he was waiting for you. 

What had started out as wanting to assert that he knew you best had led him to wanting to know you better — to fill the missing holes (no sexual innuendos intended) in the relationship between you — but all of a sudden you weren’t just dating the man, you were living with him. He’d put on a brave face and tried to remind — convince — himself that your happiness was what mattered, but then the engagement had happened and he’d just… snapped.

He couldn’t write music after that. He’d tried to write so many songs to put it into words, but the words he got out were stiff on paper and his fingers were clumsy on the strings of his guitar, and that made it worse. He felt mute though he hadn’t stopped screaming the entire time you’ve been planning your wedding, and now the day was here. 

When he’d gotten the save the date card, he’d contemplated lying through his teeth — he could send a bloody waffle iron and call it a day and know that you’d at least be fed while he pretended to be in New York, Toronto, São Paulo, Munich, Tokyo, anywhere but where you were on your wedding day. He couldn’t do it, though -- hadn’t you pestered him specifically to find out when he was free? And warned him time and again to not slot anything in because you were planning your wedding around him and this would be the date chosen? 

That was a punch to the chest if he’d ever felt one. 

Similarly, as the weeks had dragged on he’d considered faking sick, faking traffic, faking anything to get out of it, but the morning had come. Wished he may, wished he might’ve, it was there at last.  and he’d showered and combed his wet curls before drying them and spraying them with whatever Lou had forced upon him ages ago before zipping up his boots. You’d promised him he could be him — rings, necklaces, hair that’s annoying enough to require a hair tie around his wrist for when he needs it, and a shirt just shy of half its buttons being done — because you’d said you wanted to look out towards the crowd and find something familiar in the midst of all the symbolic change. 

“You can be a rockstar,” you’d told him. “Just make sure you’re a rockstar at a wedding.”

How was he ever supposed to fake anything when you wanted so badly to see him on your wedding day?

That was how he wound up sitting in the church at one end of the pew with the little sheet of paper that had your name and your soon-to-be husband’s printed on it along with those of the ring bearer, and the flower girls, and the bridesmaids and the groomsmen, and all the people that were far too many to be what you wanted. 

He flicked the edge of it repeatedly with his thumb and his mouth got tighter and tighter as he stared. You weren’t married — not yet. Harry shifted forward and twisted in his seat to look towards the back of the church, but he shook his head and turned back. 

There was a ring bearer, flower girls, bridesmaids, and groomsmen who would all be sorely disappointed if he did anything foolish. Not to mention your family, and he supposed your groom might take issue, although, frankly, he was the least of Harry’s concerns right then — he was the root of the problem, actually. 

Give it up, he chided himself. You aren’t going to do anything. What happens? She says no and you feel like a proper twat for having put her through that on her wedding day and left it on her mind from hereon out? You would do that to her? You’ve not got enough time to change her mind, and even if you did, you shouldn’t.

Harry closed his eyes, another voice springing up. What if you said yes? What if you changed your mind? What if — and he knew this is a demotion — you agreed to date him instead of marrying this tosser? 

He didn’t have any idea if he loved you — if he was in love with you — but he knew he’d like the chance to try, and if he lost out on even the possibility….

He was at the door through which people had been barging in and out of for the past hour before he could process his feet had moved. Harry hesitated, looking at the rings on his fisted fingers, before knocking fervently. He winced, his whole face pinched inwards, knowing that he had better have something damn good to say, and before he could even entertain the idea that you wouldn’t let him in, the door opened and you peeked out cautiously before relaxing.

“Oh, it’s you.”

He wanted to laugh at how flippant you sounded, but you’d already ushered him in and shut the door behind. 

Looking at you, his heart sank. Your hair and makeup were done and your dress was… it was perfect. It was exactly something you would wear, and he could only imagine how long it took you to find, because he remembered how long it took his mum to find something when she married Robin. You looked… beautiful.

“Thanks,” you said.

He hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud, and he cleared his throat. You looked beautiful, and he was about to do this? You deserved better — you deserved a man who wasn’t slow on the uptake and who didn’t choke on his emotions after trying to stamp them out for the better part of… ages. Ages and ages… Christ. He’d felt this way forever and it took this wanker to put it in perspective for him. 

Hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slacks, he balled them in and out of fists. 

Don’t be a coward, Styles. You either say it now or you walk away. Don’t drag this out for her. 

“Don’t.”

It was a croak and he closed his eyes feeling like he just fired a gun in the dark. His heart pounded like he’d just run a 5k in as many minutes.

“Don’t fucking marry him,” he clarified. The room was so quiet the two of you could hear a pin drop, and when he opened his eyes, you were holding the back of the chair in front of the vanity that had all your makeup strewn over it. Your mouth was open and you blinked dazedly, eyes wide and almost frightened. 

“M’sorry.” He withdrew one of his hands from his pockets and pushed it through the tamed, wavy curls. “M’sorry, I jus’—“

A knock on the door announced the arrival of one of your bridesmaids.

“Are you ready?” she asked you before narrowing in on him. “You should get back to your seat.”

You made some sort of sound — something like a gasp, maybe, but he can’t be sure — while he nodded his head. “Right, yeah.” He didn’t meet your eyes when he closed the small distance between you, grabbing your forearm instinctively as he leaned in. “See you in there,” he said gruffly just before pressing a strong, puckered kiss to your cheek. He should’ve shaved, he realized too late, but you didn’t protest about the whiskery stubble scratching your skin before he doubled back for his seat in the pew. 

The rows were nearly full when he sat down and he picked up the sheet of paper once more and the reality of the situation sank in. 

He wanted you. He really bloody wanted you, he’d admitted as much just now, but just now was too late and there was no way back. He tried hard not to take things, and places, and people, and opportunities for granted, but he had how many times he could realize and own up to his feelings, and he’d chosen now? 

The swell of Pachelbel’s Canon in D rose from the front of the church and he lifted his suddenly heavy head to watch the first of the wedding party make their way down the aisle. Nobody came, though — no bridesmaid, no ring bearer, no flower girl, no you. The pianist, bless them, played on to fill the gaps in the titters despite the fact that it should’ve been long over, and all around him people exchanged confused glances and concerned whispers. 

You loved that man waiting for you at the altar. 

Right?

When that same bridesmaid of yours darted out and made a beeline for Harry, his heart skipped a beat.

When she leant down and whispered to come with her, it stopped entirely.

Harry glanced back towards the altar just before disappearing through the doors with her, and he had the strangest feeling of guilt when he spied your fiancee standing there looking simultaneously lost and as if he wanted to kill the rockstar who’d dared to crash his wedding. 

Children sat on the floor, detained from their ring bearing and flower throwing duties, and where there had been just you in the room before there were now three others in it with you. 

“Get out,” you told them, shrilly. “Get out.”

Harry watched you warily as you made short paces back and forth in front of him amidst your bridesmaids scurrying from the room. He’d only seen you this crazed a few times, but never once had it been directed towards him. He was just about to ask if you wanted him to leave, too, when you finally asked, “What is wrong with you?!”

It was a fair question, but any answer he had to offer would be unsatisfying. 

“M’sorry,” he mumbled, proverbial tail between his legs. “I jus’—“

“Stop apologizing,” you hissed. Harry pressed his lips together and nodded as you bent slightly, not quite doubling over. “What am I doing?” The words were moaned in pure agony and he had the urge to tell you to straighten up to help your breathing, but he had a feeling he shouldn’t speak much right then unless he’s spoken to. 

“I’m getting married,” you uttered, voice breaking. “Why would you ever…?”

“Better now than later, yeah?” he said and you shook your head.

“I’m so… so angry with you.” 

He could tell by the way your words burned that you meant it, but he couldn’t shake the nudging reminder that you’d still brought him back to you. 

“You can forget it if y’want,” he rasped despite the ache in his chest. “S’fine.” 

The ache was slightly assuaged when you shook your head again and muttered a soft, “No… no….” 

He’d only just started to process it when you twisted your engagement ring — that lump of glorified coal that’d been sitting on your hand and making him scowl in his sleep — and ordered him to, “Stay here.”

“No,” he protested. “That’s not—“

“He’ll kill you,” you said under your breath, looking at him at last. “And you’ll break your damn hand if you try to fight back.”

He wanted to quip he was a lover not a fighter, but he knew already that may not be his choice if he were out there, and he felt a jolt when you passed your hand over his ringed fingers. 

It took all of thirty minutes, if that long, but you returned to the room at last looking all the wearier for battle. He frowned immediately when he spied the makeup smudges and how the whites of your eyes were slightly bloodshot. Suspicion prickled in him and he was convinced you’d asked him to stay because he would be in danger of doing the killing. 

“Unzip me,” you requested hollowly, effectively extinguishing his fire.

It took him a moment to process it before he cleared his throat and stepped forward to oblige, grabbing your zipper and pulling it down just past the curve of your bum. You unceremoniously stripped out of it and then the frilly undergarments that hid your regular ones, allowing them to pool at your ankles. “Can you hang them?” you asked and he took on the task robotically, trying to figure out what hung and what zipped and what draped as you changed back into the jeans and t-shirt you’d arrived at the church in. 

He was just wrestling with getting the dress to stay on the padded hanger and those silk loops that refused to stay inside when you spoke up.

“I’m awful.”

Two simple, frail words, and when he looked at you, the sadness on your face knocked him backwards. You’d been so aggressive with him that he hadn’t been able to read any other emotion, but he saw the guilt that he felt since he first knocked on the door reflected in your appearance. He abandoned his task, one of those silk hanger straps hanging from the side of the dress, and for the first time since it’s all really started to happen, he touched you. 

Harry grabbed your shoulders firmly and pulled you in for a hug, and he was relieved when you wrapped your arms around him and gripped the back of his jacket for dear life. Your shoulders shook with a sharp inhale and he covered the back of your head with one of his hands to force you to nestle in close, and when you did, your whole body just… collapsed. 

“You’re not awful,” he rasped quietly. “Better now than later, innit?” he repeated his earlier logic. How much more terrible would it have been if you’d gone through with it and decided no, no, you didn’t want this after all?

Harry’s heart squeezed unpleasantly from the phantom sound of your voice saying, “I do,” carrying all the way to him in the church. However terrible this might’ve felt, it had to be better than the alternative, didn’t it?

You took a deep, shuddering breath, and he pressed a kiss to your head on instinct. Your hair felt weird — a byproduct of all the creams, or mousses, or gels, or sprays, or whatever the hell it was you’d slathered yourself up with no doubt — but the result of you burrowing deeper against his neck was nice. He swayed slightly with you, but stopped instantly when your lips passed over his neck almost shyly. 

Harry stayed very, very still when you lifted your face and leaned back. He peered at you through hooded eyes, hand still cupping the back of your head. It was like one of those stupid moments in a romance novel, but he saw your eyes drop to his mouth, and he knew that however scripted it seemed, he had to seize the moment lest he let another one go by like all the ones before. 

You both stayed very, very still when your lips first made contact. Yours, he thought, were soft and pillowy — nice and smooth, perfectly pliable. You broke away before he could deepen it, but he grabbed your chin and silently coaxed you to keep your head up despite the shy expression that should have him begging off. He pressed his forehead to yours momentarily and your sharp intake of breath — preemptive for the kiss that he’s not granting you — compelled him to duck down again. 

It was still chaste, by all standards, but it was less shocking the second time around, and neither one of you were as hesitant as the first time. Harry cupped the side of your face. This was the goal, wasn’t it? He hadn’t asked you not to marry the tosser so that he could continue to have you round for tea and send you home at half twelve in the morning or offer you up his guest bed. He hadn’t asked you to please, not do it, because he wanted to raid your fridge after a night of drinking and set bread to rise that he’d never bake because he’d be long gone by morning. 

He wanted to share a bed with you.

He wanted to spend night after night with you.

He wanted to see you naked and leave you dozing in bed while he baked that bread himself instead of having you wrestle with a hangover and a gooey mass of dough.

Harry cupped your face a little firmer, squeezing a bit, grateful you weren’t whining about his stubble and more grateful still that he’d chosen to speak now rather than later. 

*

Later

*

Calling off your wedding had been one of the most humiliating things you’d ever had to do. 

Ever.

You’d loved your fiancee — part of you probably still did and always would. You’d promised him your hand in marriage, as corny as that sounded, and you’d had every intention of following through with it. You’d had every intention of living your life with him, first in a flat, then maybe in a house, and having whatever came from that the two of you saw fit. 

But Harry had burst through that door and he’d been churning. 

You’d sensed something had been wrong for quite some time, but he wouldn’t say what it was when you tried to dig. He’d just give some excuse like, “Can’t write any damn music,” or “I’m just…” and he’d leave it at that. You’d expressed to your fiancee how worried you were about Harry, and the end result had been the most ridiculous, laughable, question of all. 

“Do you have feelings for him?” 

No. Absolutely not, you’d assured him. You loved Harry, and you were worried about him, because couldn’t everybody tell he was just plain miserable? Your fiancee had simply harrumphed at that, and you’d withered and refrained from voicing any further concern, but with every day that passed it grew exponentially worse. 

You’d had a sincere, gnawing fear that your friend — one of your very best friends — was going to skip out on your wedding. He got cagey when he talked about his plans and said there were a lot of things that might happen at the last moment that could cause him to jet off halfway around the world, and the thought of getting married without being able to look out into the rows of people to see him smirking mischievously with too many rings and too few buttons had kept you awake for more nights than you could count. 

What choice had you had but to bully him into a corner to make sure that he had to come. “You won’t have anything happening on this day,” you’d told him sternly. “You can catch a red eye that evening or take one to get in the day before, but you will be there on this day.”

He’d looked so resigned when he’d wearily nodded his head to confirm he understood the date to be saved, but you’d thought… foolishly, you’d thought it would be good for him to get out and to partake in some festivities.

Never in a million years would you have thought your friend would knock on the door in the back room of the church and ask you to please, not marry the man waiting for you at the altar.

Never in a million years would you have thought your instantaneous, knee-jerk, gut reaction would’ve been okay.

He could’ve taken your hand and pulled you out of there into his car and driven to the opposite end of the country — or maybe to the shore, because you’d heard Brighton was lovely this time of year and he had always loved the water. Or maybe he could have booked a plane and you two could have retreated to the States or some island where nobody knew who Harry Styles was, and if they did they wouldn’t care.

Your whole future had reconstructed itself before your eyes when he’d burst in. Pieces of your fiancee had been swapped out for pieces of Harry — the small flat in zone six could had been replaced with moving your furniture into Harry’s house and an unknown number of children was suddenly cemented with the number Harry had always drunkenly proclaimed as his ideal (with one ringed finger stuck high in the air as he tried to focus his point in the tequila haze).

You’d woken up that morning with another man’s plans and all of a sudden you’d started making your own with Harry and it had felt… right.

That had been its own kind of scary realization. You loved — love — Harry. He was, and is, one of your closest friends, and it was why it was so important that he be at your wedding. 

Somewhere along the line, you should’ve realized the thought of him not being at your wedding hurt more than the idea of marrying your fiancee brought you joy. 

Then he’d left. He’d just… gone when you hadn’t said a word before one of your bridesmaids interrupted. He didn’t know — he couldn’t have. He would have let you marry that man if it was what you wanted, but all you’d actually wanted was to cry out for him to come back.

He would’ve let you get married.

He would’ve given you up.

Harry had left you with your bridesmaids and while they fussed over your dress and asked where your bouquet was, your head had roared. Every instinct in you had said to get out of there with him — people in the church be damned. You didn’t know where it had come from, but at the same time you weren’t surprised, and that in and of itself had been enough to make you hyperventilate. 

“Harry,” you’d gasped, gown tight around your ribs from your quick breaths. You’d clawed at the front of it, scratching the fabric, the sound harsher than nails on a chalkboard. “Harry, I need Harry.”

Silence had fallen and you’d covered your face. “Get Harry!” 

He’d have been liable to punch or be punched if he’d been out in the church when you ended it all, and you’d needed to see him to be sure of what you were doing. There’d been not a doubt in your mind when he had walked through that door, warily sizing you up as if expecting you to take a swing, that your choice was final. 

You’d felt like a con artist when you’d stood at the front and called it off — and maybe you were — but you knew it was nothing compared to how you would have felt if you made it down that aisle, made it through I Dos, and had to look at Harry over your husband’s shoulder while you had your first dance as man and wife.

Knowing how he felt.

Knowing how you felt. 

It’d been six weeks since that day. Six weeks, nearly seven, of moving out (with Harry’s quiet help — he’d called a realtor and found a flat for you on a temporary basis), returning gifts, explaining to those who hadn’t been there that the wedding had been canceled, trying to get a refund on a honeymoon package, and tabloids — loads, and loads of tabloids that were having a feeding frenzy over the fact that Harry Styles had broken up his best friend’s wedding. There was nothing confirmed, only “a source says,” but the fish food crumbs they had hit close enough to the truth to cause a stir. 

There were good things, too, though, in what amounted to six weeks of dating and getting to know each other on these new terms. Quiet dinners, in and out, his moral support as he rubbed your calves while you were on the phone explaining to somebody that yes, yes, you really had called it off, and kisses.

Lots and lots of kisses. 

You’d taken to kissing him like a fish would take to water. Although the first few had been shy and hesitant — introductions of open mouths and open souls — you’d both grown bolder. Your favorite time so far had been when you were waiting for the takeaway to show up and he’d just… he’d gotten so impatient that he’d pushed you against the kitchen counter, pinning your hips with his, and held your cheek while he kissed his way up and down your neck with greedy pulls of your skin between his lips. 

You hadn’t wanted it to end, but the bell had interrupted, and that seemed to happen every time you two were close to taking the plunge in the deep end. It was starting to wear on you, and you were getting tired of not being able to enjoy the man you were finally allowed.

You were allowed this man — allowed to notice how his arms flexed and the way sweat clung to his neck and how his voice positively purred when he told a story. He, too, was allowed you, but  you’ve not had each other beyond heavy petting and hands that dared to creep under shirts like you might be caught by your parents at any moment. You’d be stupid if you tried to insist you hadn’t noticed him before — of course you had — but he was just Harry and you had a boyfriend and then a fiancee. He could be objectively good looking, you could find him attractive, but you couldn’t be attracted. 

Now, though, you were allowed, and it was blazing like wildfire through you.

Your inner thighs were heavy all the time, and although Harry was very good, and very patient, you thought he was feeling the strain, too. You’ve woken up from vivid dreams in which your legs had been spread and your throat cried raw, and after a hazy choice to confess the late night visions to him via text and a flurry of bold, well-written sexts, you’ve started saying his name when you cum with your fingers before turning into your pillow and screaming to bemoan the fact you wouldn’t get to see him again until your schedules allowed it. 

You were at the point where you wanted him so badly you could be sick. It wasn’t an attractive description, but it was the truth — you wanted to touch him. You craved him. You wanted to put your hands, your mouth, all over, everywhere. You wanted to feel him get hard, you wanted to see him lose his mind. You wanted to take orders and give orders and hear him shout. You wanted sweat, and breathless vigor, and shaky, sore muscles that had you a little wobbly on your legs after. You wanted it so badly that when you were finally sitting on the couch with him watching a film that you curled and squirmed, trying to shake off the hypersensitivity and the need. 

“S’the matter?” 

Harry pulled on your wrists to try to dislodge your hands from their place over your eyes, but you shook your head.

“It’s a comedy,” he said, tugging again, mistaking your distress for mourning over a tragedy that hadn’t occurred. “What’s gotten into you?”

You could smell his cologne on his skin — that warm, spicy, musky vanilla scent — and you sucked in a great, deep breath.

“Iwantyou,” you exclaimed in one go. “I want you so badly, I….” You swallowed hard, the twisting ache inside you magnified now that you’d fessed up. You wrenched yourself gently free from his grasp and sat up, preparing to bolt from the couch, but a large, firm hand on your arm pulled you back before you could straighten up completely. 

You didn’t even get to take much of a look at his face as you squeaked and teetered onto his thigh, but what you did see had heat flaring up in your belly. His eyes were burning with intensity, but you only just took note of them before he guided you into a smashing kiss. It was your most unrestrained, greedy kiss yet, and you positively melted into it. There was nobody and nothing to stop you — hands and mouths could go where they pleased, and you bucked forward over his leg, the thought alone and all its promise making you whimper.

Your moan was instantaneous. The pressure, the friction, the strength…. Both of his arms were locked around you firmly as you clamped his cheeks between your palms, but you had enough room to rock back and forth over his thigh. It was a little reminiscent of when you used to hump your pillow when you were first working out how to take out your sexual urges as an adolescent, but it was better because he was firmer and real. You ground down harder and you gasped softly in wonder, head spinning. It wasn’t right — not quite what you were after — but it was good in its own way. 

“You want me?” he asked hotly. Your abdomen fluttered and you nodded. “Been givin’ you space,” he declared. “Didn’t want to push, did I? How fucking hard has it been when you’re telling me I fuck you in your sleep?” 

A single moan punctured your ragged breaths and he pulled you closer with rough impatience as you kissed him again, pleased when he returned it with the same aggression.

No more space.

No more restraint.

His leg was nice and you were starting to feel pin pricks and tingles in your fingers and toes, but it was frustratingly inconsistent — if you shifted even a fraction of an inch, the angle was thrown off, and you had to find it again, and after the third time, he patted the outside of your thigh.

“Ge’ your trousers off,” he said against your mouth. “It’ll make it better fo’ yeh… c’mon… up….” 

There should be something… not awkward, but noticeable about taking your trousers off in front of him like this. He’d seen you in your underwear before — and you him — but the circumstances had been entirely different and without this intention. Still, though, as you unbuttoned them and slid the zipper down and he helped guide them down your thighs, the only strange or noticeable effect were the goosebumps on your skin from his warm, somewhat calloused fingers (rings absent, for once) brushing against you. 

“These too, then,” he muttered. He bit his lip only briefly when he looked up at you before giving a casual jerk of his head. “C’mon.”

You let out a keening sound when he hooks his fingers into the fabric and pulls the elastic so he can slide it over your bum and down your legs. When you chance a glance at him his eyes are dark and unblinking, locked on you, and the tip of his tongue is peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he stares before he swipes it discretely along his lower lip and leans back, patting his leg and pulling your wrist. 

You nearly toppled back onto him and he caught you, righting you so you could press yourself against him again, and on top of his denim with nothing left between you, it was much easier to control the pressure and how direct the stimulation was. 

“Ah!” you cried out in soft awe, fingers digging into his shoulder. 

“Better?” he asked thickly. All you could do was nod in return while dragging your fingertips down his shirt, pulling the collar back sightly. His necklaces were askew, chains plastered to his skin and crosses tucked under his shirt or thrown back behind his shoulder, and his throat bobbed just above the two birds by his collarbones. Transfixed, you pressed the black ink and watched the design warp before leaning down to land a kiss. His skin was hot to the touch of your lips, and Harry let out a long, husky sounding growl as you peppered several kisses there before bringing them up his neck, resuming your momentarily paused gliding. 

“Good,” he sighed as you kissed his jaw. “Want it to be good fo’ you….”

You could feel it already — either because it’d been almost two months and nothing had happened, or because he’d sent you saucily descriptive messages to aid your busy fingers, or because he was a novelty who smelled and felt so bloody good, but it was there. You whimpered helplessly before crying out when he tensed his leg.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moaned weakly -- as if he needed to be told.

“On m’leg?” he rasped. “Already? Jus’ from rubbin’ off on me?” 

You shuddered, nodding, a mewling sound echoing in your throat, and when he kissed your cheek you could feel his lips curling with pride.

“S’it feel nice?” he asked. 

“S-so….” You gulped for air and it turned into a gasp when he pulled you down harder on his leg. “Oh God, m’gonna cum!” you whispered again in disbelief, words running together. He had one hand on your back and the other on your bum, guiding you, and you had your fingers in his hair, right at the sweaty roots. Shoulders heaving, each moan was a deep, heavy wheeze -- they’d be embarrassing if you didn’t know he was getting off on them. 

“Don’t stop,” he urged in that same purr that had you wanting to crawl onto his lap in the first place. “Get m’leg wet.”

Your eyes rolled up in your head and you moaned, shuddering anew, and he bounced his leg a bit to keep you on track.

“Think you’d be getting it nice an’ wet f’I didn’t have m’jeans on, yeah?”

The image of his bare thigh shining shouldn’t be as attractive as it was, but somehow all you could do is want it — it reminded you of marking him, and you could imagine how pink his skin would be underneath it from the friction. The idea of leaving his leg sore and cumming on him made your eyes snap shut and a long, low moan of his name escaped your lips.

“Harry….” 

“There yeh go…” he muttered just under your ear, kissing your neck. “Good girl, jus’ like that. You’re gonna cum nice and hard, aren’t yeh?” He kissed you several more times while you continued, undeterred. “Gimme more than just some texts, pet,” he pled with a raspy voice. “Gimme more than… c’mere… gimme….” 

One of your arms was against his neck and the other was braced against his chest as you ground faster and faster against his thigh. He grasped your wrist and tugged with determination until he lifted your hand away and up to his mouth. You hadn’t processed it apart from the lurch in your stomach from being thrown off balance before his hot, wet mouth wrapped around your first two digits. He exhaled through his nose against your knuckles. It was brief, but he frowned in concentration, and you wondered if he knew those were the fingers you found relief with after every time he detailed exactly what he wanted to do with you, for you, to you, and when he opened his eyes after sliding them out, you were sure he did.

He released your wrist and you pushed against his chest again, curling your fingers into his shirt as you rocked faster and faster. You recognized this feeling, and you knew you were already there — you just needed… you just had to…. Mouth hanging open, your breathing stilted until it stopped completely, and your whole body went so stiff you shook and the room spun as you pulsed and contracted, squeezing his thigh between yours. 

“Fuck!” you choked. “Oh fuck…!” You whimpered weakly before going slack against him, hold weakening and head spinning. Even as you finally became aware of your breathing, the room still felt like it was tilting around you, and in the next second, it did. Harry turned you onto your back on the sofa, positioning himself between your sensitive thighs. You lifted your head to close the distance with his mouth and he lowered his body closer while supporting himself awkwardly with his forearm on the side of the couch, one of his hands just underneath your elbow. Hands wound around him and pressing into his back, you could feel his muscles moving with every slight rocking motion he made. He was smooth, and strong, and your fingertips suddenly itched with the need to pull across his bare skin. 

You tugged at his shirt, each yank bringing it higher and higher over his head — it had buttons down the front, but you couldn’t be bothered to undo them, and, after a momentary mishap when his arm got stuck, it was on the floor. His necklaces dangled, and his hair, just a few short inches from darkened eyes and pink cheeks, was wild. 

“A’right?” he asked gruffly. Your heart soared and you nodded.

“Yes,” you whispered, drawing him back in. The new kiss was tender and you stayed in the liplock for several moments, only breaking it to readjust slightly, and with each passing second he settled himself more comfortably against you. He was as warm, and heavy, and nice as you’d believed he would be, and although you were still a little exhausted and dazed, you still had that distinct ache in you — you needed more. You’d finished, but you weren’t finished, and the unmistakable hardness of his bulge was thrilling — more thrilling, even, than his hand making its way over your stomach under your shirt towards your breasts. 

Your back arched when one of his hands spread over the gentle curve of your chest, and it was then he broke the kiss enough to rasp, “D’you want to go to bed?” granting you another one when you whined from his absence. “I’ve condoms in m’room,” he said between pacifying follow-ups.  

Condoms.

You couldn’t remember the last time you used one, because you’d been very exclusive in your relationship, and your ex-fiancee had been, too. 

(It was another reminder of how perfectly fine he had been and how he hadn’t deserved it, but you were a bloody bitch who couldn’t be sorry about the fact that you’d gotten this man between your legs instead. The thought of him hurting twinged more than any other regret, and so, therefore, you couldn’t.)

“I’m on the pill,” you breathed and you spied the tip of his tongue between his lips in thought. 

“So….” Harry hesitated, frowning hard not out of displeasure, but rather like he was working through a difficult problem. “Do yeh not want…?”

“We can,” you whispered. “We can if you want… but we could also not.” You were beyond caring whether he had a rubber on or not so long as he got inside you. Your orgasm had only opened you up more — your legs were aching to be spread by his hips and you wanted so badly to feel him flush with you that you thought you could pass out. 

Harry chewed his lips so hard his cheeks dimpled, and he had that cavernous crinkle between his brows that you always wanted to kiss away, but finally he nodded. “I’m… I’ve not—“

You covered his mouth, shaking your head a bit, and he nodded his silent understanding and agreement. “S’get this off,” he muttered of your t-shirt. 

It was a little awkward — worse than his shirt — but eventually it, too, was thrown to the side, and he was free to settle between your breasts and pepper kisses to your skin. He didn’t even so much as blink in shock, and you were in awe of that — you felt like you were go back and forth between feeling floppy-limbed and spontaneously combusting when you thought about the fact that he was him, but he was cool, calm, and collected as he moved and touched with purpose.

As if kissing you so intimately was the most natural thing in the world.

As if he’d been waiting for it and you’d just needed to tell him go.

It’d been six and a half weeks of waiting, and space, and patience, and sexts, but he was done being good.

You sighed and your back arched when he closed his mouth around your nipple through your bra. Smiling breathlessly, you savored the pressure of his teeth, and when he pulled just a bit, you laughed quietly. You looked down to find him grinning, but there was something predatory about it that had your stomach twisting. 

“Are you going to take your trousers off?” you whispered.

“S’the idea.” His voice was gravelly and warm, and you could’ve shudder from the promise of intent. He lifted up slightly and you winced when you felt your hair being pulled at the roots. 

“Ouch!”

“What’d I—?”

“My hair— ow!”

“Sorry!” Harry shifted his weight to his other forearm and you rescued the strands he’d pinned and pulled before he dropped back and reached down to unfasten his trousers. “Okay… alright….”

He wriggled quickly on top of you and you felt his trousers bunching up around his thighs, so you pushed — first with your hands and then your feet once they were at his knees and too far for either of you to reach. There was a soft snap as he pulled the elastic on his pants and repeated the motion, and both of you paused for a second that lasted a lifetime when his cock fell on your abdomen with a dull, heavy smack. 

He was full and thick and his head was red and looked ready to burst. He wasn’t, technically speaking, any different than any other cock you’d ever seen in your life, but you couldn’t stop staring in awe. Your hand was on him before you could process you’d moved your arm, and you pumped your hand down his length. Lifting your gaze when you heard his sharp intake of breath, you only just caught his strained, open mouth before he snapped it shut, jaw trembling. When he focused his gaze, his eyes were dark and demanding an answer to an unvoiced question, and all you could do was nod. 

Harry lowered again and slanted his mouth over yours in a greedy kiss that threatened to steal your breath, but if you were supposed to be asking for a break, you didn’t want it. You pressed your palms flat against his back, feeling the way even the slimmest of muscles rippled as they expanded and contracted. His skin was warm and soft, and you could only imagine what it was like to have that much canvas to kiss. Before you could contemplate a scenario that would allow it, you felt his cock pressing against your entrance. A new burst of adrenaline pumped through you and you stopped breathing when he pushed forward, easily spreading you to accommodate his size. 

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever had a man bare inside you, but this was… more. So, so much more. Was it his size? The pressure and pinch was something you hadn’t felt in awhile, and it wasn’t just because you couldn’t really remember the last time you’d had sex in the middle of all the planning madness. Was it how smooth and blazingly hot he felt sliding inside without even a bit of resistance apart from an initial squeeze around him? You tensed up just a bit when you felt him withdraw just a bit before he thrust forward fully, and the sudden show of strength had you crying out against his mouth — not from pain, but from how overwhelmed you were. 

“S’wrong?” he mumbled, smoothing your hair back. “Alright?”

“I’m fine,” you panted. “I’m fine, I’m okay, I just….” Your breath hitched in your throat. “I need one second.” Steeling yourself, you threw one leg over the back of the couch to act as a brace and to make sure he didn’t fall off and take you with him, before you hitched your legs higher around his hips and squirmed until you were just slightly farther down the couch. The result was him sinking the last bit of himself inside you, and the two of you moaned simultaneously — you wordlessly and him with a tortured, “Fuck me!” 

“You’re big,” you whispered, blurry gaze locked on the ceiling, and you laughed breathlessly. Praising size made your skin crawl — it sounded so artificially pornographic — but you were shocked enough that they were the only words that sufficed. “You’re really big— oh!”

Your head tipped back in a long, keening moan when he rutted inside you, gradually easing into a rhythm, and he held one side of your face while kissing your neck. You bit your lip and clamped your eyes shut as he thrust. He moved methodically — each fuck inside of you was a slightly quicker snap than the sensation of him all but dragging back out of you before he thrust forward again. He was fucking you — however tender some of the kisses you’d shared had been, there was no denying this was a fuck first and foremost — but the tempo was such that you were acutely aware of how he felt. Every vein, every ridge, every time his angle shifted just a bit and he bumped and glided along a new spot that had your mouth open in ecstatic awe felt exponentially more — just more. 

“How’s that?” 

His voice was faint and a little hollow and when he thrust quickly, as if punctuating his question, and you were pretty sure he’d only just barely gotten a grasp on his speech. “S’that good?” he asked. “That’s it?”

The fact that he’d bothered asking you what was good, what worked, and then followed through based on your lead was toe-curling in its own way.  

“Yes…!” you moaned with a tight throat and he kissed your cheek.

“Jesus, I want yeh to cum!” he said through rattling teeth against your skin. “Wanna feel it ‘round my cock.”

You’d never felt the desire to orgasm for someone else before. They were for your enjoyment, either by yourself or with a partner who took the time to learn your body, but right then, you wanted to desperately cum for him — and again, not in that artificially pornographic way, but because you had the express feeling that it would be almost better than his own orgasm for him. 

“Ungh!” 

You cried out unintelligibly when Harry shifted so he was ever so slightly farther up your body and he could grind his pelvis against yours. It was nothing much at first, but then your nerves responded, quicker even than before, and you rolled up in time with him, a whole body shudder making you wrack underneath him. 

“There we are,” he rasped, passing a kiss across your hairline. His pendants dragged and tickled your skin, adding another heightened sensation to the moment, and you shivered again when he said, “That’s it, feel tha’.”

He wasn’t close enough, but you weren’t sure he could possibly get any more up against you or in you than he was. You whined softly, frustrated tears pricking your eyes, and he shushed you, petting your cheek before a guttural groan rumbled in his throat as you dug your fingers into the strong muscles of his back. The simple thought of scattering kisses across it invaded your mind again, and, combined with him grinding against you, your abdomen fluttered and tightened from the overwhelming desire.

The sheer idea of everything you wanted exhausted you. You wanted to touch him — to kiss him — everywhere. You were allowed to explore, and you wanted to engage both hands and mouth in your adventures across his body. You wanted to hear his moans and taste his hot skin. You wanted to know if he swore when his hip was kissed or if he thrust despite himself when you hummed around his cock. You wanted to know what he smelled like first thing in the morning, wrapped in sex and sheets and yesterday’s smoky vanilla scent.

You moaned under your breath, fingers slipping against his back a bit before you scrambled to get a better grip once more, and you took a deep breath when your abdomen fluttered and twisted again. You were starting to pulse, feeling ever so slightly tighter when you clamped down, and your breathing was getting heavier as you volleyed between drawing long breaths in and out and panting quickly. 

Don’t think about it. Just let it happen. 

Harry ground a little quicker and he spluttered between his lips, his own breathing stilted between moans that sounded like they were meant to instill resistance in him rather than from actual ecstasy. You lifted your head a bit and pressed your mouth against his shoulder with a soft moan, breathing quick and heart erratic in your chest. 

It swept over you almost out of nowhere; suddenly, you locked up around him and called out in a way that could be mistaken for agony as you dug your heel into the back of his thigh and your shaking hands pulled him closer. It was a swoop and a fall and you let out a punctured gasp, still clinging to him weakly but muscles completely void of all the tension that had wrapped you around him seconds ago. He stilled for the moment but his body hummed with energy and something unreleased, and when your head dropped back against the arm of the couch, you opened your eyes just as he resumed his thrusts.

He was beautiful. His curls stuck to his forehead and neck and when he managed to keep his eyes open, they were unfocused behind quick blinks. His skin was sweaty and flushed and his mouth kept opening and closing with moans and stifled shouts. Each thrust, he got rougher and more erratic with his rhythm — he took two strokes inside you before stopping to grit his teeth and shift above you to relieve some of the weight of his body so he wouldn’t crush you, and you could see the veins in his neck straining underneath the sheen on his skin. His next thrust was a little too hard, and you winced, shrinking back into the cushions beneath you, but then he stilled and you felt the first hot, wet gush inside of you, and your mouth dropped open as the quick spurts filled you and he made an inhuman noise deep in his throat. 

You not only saw but felt his arms shaking before he collapsed on you, and after an ouch and some breathless fumbling of limbs, half his body crammed in between yours and the couch while his one leg slung over yours in a well-intentioned attempt to keep you from getting pushed off the edge. 

Silence descended amongst your harsh, out of sync breathing, and kisses were abandoned in favor of thought. Seven weeks of foreplay via text and kisses against counters had resulted in a mad explosion. You weren’t even sure how much you’d been thinking about it. All you knew was you had to go, take, seize. A laugh bubbled up in your chest thinking of how frantic you’d been, but you pressed your lips tightly together to keep from giving him the wrong idea. 

Jammed tightly next to you, he’d grown heavy, and his breath was hot on your cheek when he mumbled, “Get up in a mo’.” You nodded, the vibrations from the words quaking through your whole body.

A moment didn’t come for a long time, though. You were alone when you woke up on his couch, thighs unpleasantly (but not unsurprisingly) sticky. Harry was gone and his trousers were, too, although his shirt was hanging from the edge of the coffee table by a corner with the end of it carelessly on the floor. You groaned under your breath before sitting up bit by bit, and you grabbed your underwear and shirt before standing and walking to the bathroom.

After wiping down with hot water (and feeling a jolt in your stomach as you relived, in vivid, condensed detail, everything that had led to this), you slipped your knickers and t-shirt on and walked quietly through the flat. Noise was coming from the kitchen — soft clanking, running water that promptly got shut off, the refrigerator opening and closing —and when you appeared in the doorway, you found him at last. 

Harry had his missing trousers on and an apron over his bare chest to protect the inked skin. He looked up before you could say anything and spared a smile before looking back to his task. A large bowl was in front of him full of sticky-looking dough, and you smirked with an automatic twitch of your lips.

“You’re not drunk,” you said, voice a little raw from sleep and earlier activities. 

He laughed softly — a deep, raspy, boyish sound — and answered, “S’not the only time I can bake, is it?”

He turned and you pushed away from your spot against the doorframe to walk closer, but you stopped when you spied several angry red lines, some of which stemmed from dark purple spots blooming on his back where your fingernails had, presumably, dug in so deeply the skin had bruised around it. You gasped, stomach swooping with the knowledge you’d done that. 

Harry turned the dough out onto a floured board, and he was starting to knead it (in not the most skillful way, you were afraid to say) when you wandered up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist. He tensed, but you pressed the first kiss to one of those dark marks gradienting into a scratch.  

“M’busy here, aren’t I?” he asked. As indignant as the words were meant to be,  but he didn’t sound upset in the slightest.

“Shh,” you murmured. “I’m not in the way, am I?”

He chuckled and you smiled against his shoulder as he resumed kneading, and you kissed your way along his back the way you’d promised yourself you would. Some promises, you kept. 

[croctears]

a part two to this maybe? dk, again this is unedited and i’m trying my hand at a more flowery language. hopefully it isn’t too flowery lolol.

the cultural terms are further explained at the bottom.

Envy, with its tendrils green with jealousy, wraps itself snug around our little beating heart. Yet we continue to let it consume us, basking and boasting in the covetous desires. And again, do we have the capacity to ingest the wants of the human soul?

“They’re so pretty!”

Cherry blossom petals frolicked to the lilt of the wind in merry pink blushes, kissing the tips of her fingers. They slipped by cheekily, never getting caught, leaving only the tickle of velvet left as the aftertaste. Hsien-Chen sighed. It was the first spring since they moved to the capital; the flowers here are different from the ones in the countryside.

Her little sister ran ahead, giggling in glee. Two small buns sat atop her head, thin hair pulled tightly in a clean, smooth updo. The smile stretching across her face was far wider than any of Hsien-Chen’s when she was that age—not that she could remember ever being this carefree. After one fateful meeting with a messenger of Death ( her mother sobbed over her for days, thanking the Heavens and Yánluówáng for being merciful and not taking her daughter away), Hsien-Chen became a silent child.

According to Mama, she’d met Heibai Wuchang, more specifically the white counterpart of the duo; Xiè Bì'ān, the White Guard.

“No, you’re mistaken,” Her mother had shaken her head, frowning at Hsien-Chen’s recounting of the event. “That’s not a woman, and you’re lucky you didn’t meet Fàn Wújiù instead.”

Was she supposed to be grateful? Grateful that the White Guard, Xie, had taught her to make amends and become a better version of whoever she was going to grow up as?

She should be thankful for an opportunity many hadn't had the chance to get.

But why is it still so difficult to be angelic?

Round and round it goes, slippery and thick—soft as the finest silk in China, lithe as the strings of guzheng. Round and round envy goes, around the souls of men. Do we not notice it, or do we take no notice of it?

Hsien-Chen swallowed a lump of saliva lodging in the ridges of her throat. Her hands shook, palms sticky with sweat. Tucking the piece of parchment into the elaborated pieces of her robes, she hurried across the study room, sock-covered feet making no noise against the smooth wooden paneling.

She couldn’t believe she was going to cheat.

On a national exam, no less.

Pinpricks of moisture dotted her forehead, satin clothes sticking to her underarms. Hsien-Chen shook her head firmly.

No, it’s not her fault she’s always second to that Luo family’s brat. They are better off than her parents, providing him with more possibilities and renowned tutors when she only had herself to depend on. Was it wrong to sneak in answers she already read through? It was merely referencing.

Tighter and tighter, over the limbs and minds. Tighter and tighter envy’s fingers gripped our souls, dragging down, down, down. Tight was the constraints, yet our eyes were still clouded with discontent.

“Did you hear? The daughter of the Wang family had four wedding proposals today! One of them is a son of a businessman.” Hsien-Chen’s companion exhaled dreamily. “She’s beautiful, it’s no wonder!”

Hsien-Chen snorted, wringing her arm out of her friend’s hold.

“She’s your neighbour, isn’t she? The Wangs’ young miss.” Her friend asked. An innocent question that made her blood boil to a degree she never knew was possible.

Oh, how Hsien-Chen hated that girl next door. Always adorned with bracelets, necklaces. On her dainty feet always a pair of expensive embroidered shoes, no less than a noblewoman’s. And as if her being spoiled wasn’t enough, the girl was born with such elegant features, big brown eyes, small upturned nose with pink lips.

Oh, how Hsien-Chen hated her. They’re the same age, but Wang Jing appeared to be on a whole other level. And she knew, no matter how hard she tries, she’ll never reach that league. Her chest tightened, breaths coming in short angry heaves.

“She’s fooling around with their gardener’s son.” Hsien-Chen blurted without thinking. Whether it was true or not was up to the discernment of those who heard.

“What?”  A handkerchief covered her friend’s face, widened eyes barely containing the disgust and excitement at the unexpected news. “That’s so wrong! Such a disgrace. Don’t you think people should know about this?”

Hsien-Chen shrugged. “Do what you will.”

Deeper and deeper envy hauls men, smooth and gracious through the waves. Deeper and deeper our beings go, into the sea of envy’s poison. Can we swim, or are we nonchalant with our foreboding demise?

“I wish I never had you!” Hsien-Chen screamed, clutching her head. Hysterics enveloped her, lashing out at the crying boy. Her son. Her older daughter held him protectively, hand rubbing furiously at her tear-streaked face.

A raised hand. A sharp smack. The boy wailed, clutching his red face.

“Mama, stop!”

“You too! I hope you die along with your good-for-nothing father!”

The vase broke, shards flying as Hsien-Chen swept more decorations off the shelves. Her children cried louder and louder and—

“Stop crying! I’m leaving. I’m leaving! I deserve better than this life!” 

The slam of the door silenced the young ones for a moment and Hsien-Chen could feel the cogs of her brain turning again. Children were noisy, or her children were noisy. Lan’s kids were docile beings, same goes for Yi’s twin boys. Filial, gentle souls, unlike hers.

How she despised her children, her simpleton husband.

How she despised her life.

The back room was serene enough for her to collect her thoughts, a tired groan escaping her chapped lips as she sank down to the dusty floor.

Despair. That was the word for what she was feeling.

Despair, resentment, bitterness.

Envy.

“I’m better off dead.”

“Sure you are.”

“Who are you?” She whipped around in shock, clutching her heart. In front of her was a man, young and tall. He had an air of masculine handsomeness, the kind you normally feel around young warriors or generals. An austere smile danced on his thin lips, bulging biceps placing down a heavy-looking mirror in front of her.

“Who are you?” She repeated.

“I believe a mirror was supposed to be delivered here.”

“I believe not.” Hsien-Chen crossed her arms, shooting him her best scowl.

“Are you sure?”

He pulled the cloth off, and the mirror. The mirror was…

The mirror was the exact same one. The one she saw in the storeroom of the old couple her mother worked for. The same mirror Xiè Bì'ān showed her future.

“No,” Hsien-Chen shuddered, backing away from him. “Is this a joke to you?”

“You’ve met my partner, I believe. Xiè Bì'ān.” The man was grim, unsmiling. “I too should believe you know who I am.”

“Fàn Wújiù?” It came out a frightened squeak, quivering with dense fear.

“My partner has a kind soul. Me? Not so much.” The Black Guard of the Heibai Wuchang muttered. “He did warn you many years ago. That was your chance.”

Hsien-Chen fell to her knees. “But my family…”

He laughed scornfully. “Weren’t you wishing they were dead a few minutes ago?”

“Please sir! Please just—,” Hsien-Chen felt tongue-tied. What was she even begging for? A second shot at life? She already knew an opportunity like that, an opportunity many hadn’t had a chance to get would be better off not given to her.

She’d already wasted the first one.

“Is your- is your friend here?”

The Black Guard was stern, but nodded. “Outside.”

And true enough, the White Guard was standing there, hands behind his back. He had seemed like a woman to five-year-old Hsien-Chen, but now, she saw clearly he was a man. Albeit slender with delicate features, his elegant stance was somber once he spotted her.

Hsien-Chen was mildly surprised that he was taller than the other guard.

“It’s your time now child.”

“I know.” Hsien-Chen wrung her hands nervously. “I think I just want to say I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For wasting your time. You could’ve gone to another child. Maybe they’d listen to you.”

Xiè Bì'ān brushed back his hair. “It was fate. There’s nothing to be done now. Don’t fret.”

Her lips parted, then she closed it again. She could see Manchurian cranes against the orange-daubed skies, fishermen’s songs loud enough for her to hear.

Her husband must be coming home any moment now.

“What would I be if I had listened to you then?” She turned to face the white-clad man, but he refused to answer.

“You have to come now.”

“I guess we are arresting you right now.” Fàn Wújiù nodded to his partner.

Hsien-Chen stretched out her hand, hoping to feel the plush texture of the cherry blossom once more.

“I guess this is it.”

So indeed, the waves roll, swallowing the cries of regret and frantic yelps of realisation. For it is too late if we notice at the brink of death, now may we rest well in the icy comfort of envy’s clasp.

first off, this story takes place during the qing dynasty, after the imperial examinations were passed for women.

 i'm personally not taoist, but had derived lots of taoist myths as inspiration! partly bc i'd grown up listening to these stories (: i hope you learn a thing or two about Chinese culture, though my version in this story is definitely tweaked. 

 Heibai Wuchang is "Black and White Impermanence" literally, and are deities in Chinese folk religion that escorts souls to the underworld. grim reaper, if you may. the white counterpart is Xie Bi'an while the black counterpart is Fan Wujiu. 

 as for Yánluówáng, he's the king of the taoist underworld. the mirror that is referenced in my previous story, Mirror of Retribution is a mirror used by the Yánluówáng to judge dead souls when dealing out punishments.