#hes so perfect
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
emichevy · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
NOIR HEAD CANONS!! (Part 1) I love my wife
6K notes · View notes
sunny-knight · 5 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
WOWIE! THIS WAS A GREAT IDEA, FRISK!
Extra:
Frisk: Next time you should take Sans!
Toriel: THERE WILL BE NO “”NEXT TIME””
Papyrus: WHATS THE PROBLEM, MS TORIEL?? ITS PERFECTLY SAFE, YOU CAN TRUST ME!!
Sans: next time we should totally go when its night out so we can see the stars.
Tumblr media
lastly, a work in progress 😭😭
Tumblr media
295 notes · View notes
rainknow · 22 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
201 notes · View notes
mikeypubes · 3 months ago
Text
'*•.¸♡ ishigami senku as a boyfriend ♡¸.•*'
Tumblr media
.•° ✿ °•.
SFW
For starters, I will not write anything pre-relationship cause even I don't know how you can get into a relationship with this dude
You'd have to know him for a long ass time, though, because he needs to know you in and out to actually like you
And liking someone and having a relationship are two separate things for Senku
You best start learning how to lucid dream about him giving you affection because he will show affection maybe once a light year
ESPECIALLY not in front of other people
His love language is probably quality time and acts of service (for him, he wants hard labor, and for you, he shows his love by making small things for you)
Sometimes, he can show his love through gift-giving, too
If it's a really emotional moment, he might accept a hug or maybe even a kiss... MAYBE so don't get your hopes up 😍
He won't initiate any "romantic" physical contact, especially hugs, but he'll accept them most of the time, especially if you two are in private
Kisses might be a bit easier for him to give because it's just a light peck and he can go back to his work
That being said, he's surprisingly gentle with you if you two are dating
I've seen so many head canons of him being so... "daddy" guys... he's really not.
Hates cheesy/cliche romantic stuff, and will never try to do them to impress you.
Maybe he'll impress you with a scientific invention but that's about it
The only nicknames you'll get from him are maybe "dumbass" and "idiot" (which goes to show he's not gonna be cheesy)
Okay but he would remember every single detail about you and all the important dates/events
He'll never miss your birthday and he's always gonna get you something nice, like a plushie or a necklace, whatever stuff you're into
He remembers your likes, dislikes, anything about your past, etc.
He really likes having you in his lab and explaining science to you, even if you don't understand jack shit
He has 0.01℅ more patience when it comes to you than with other people 👍
Sometimes he'll pause and think about how illogical he's become
He would never admit it, but he'd genuinely risk his whole life for you
Sorry guys he will not introduce you as his girlfriend
Not because he wants to hide it or anything, he just doesn't go around telling everyone that you're his girlfriend and whatnot
He doesn't tell you anything about his true true feelings (or many personal facts, like his favorite foods, etc.) but after time, you can kinda tell, it's just a thing you two share
You and Gen had to work miracles to figure out his birthday lmfao 💀
So you don't have to tell him how you're feeling, 9 times outta 10, he already knows
Though he thinks it's troublesome, he'll be considerate if some stuff make you jealous or uncomfortable
You're still not exempt from physical labor though so chop chop get to work 👏
Good luck trying to make him jealous though 💀👍
The only semi-particle of jealousy he'd show is slight distrust
Like if a guy was acting too friendly with you, he'd just kinda treat him the way he treated Tsukasa at first
He's not doing it because he's afraid of losing you though LOL
On that note, a big part of a relationship for Senku is trust, so if he's dating you, he trusts you 100% and expects the same from you, so jealousy from your end can sometimes annoy him
He also doesn't get jealous for that same reason (although he's mainly just not a jealous guy)
Since he's not big on physical affection, the first couple of months you guys were dating, you had more than one instance where you seriously thought you hallucinated him accepting your confession
You genuinely doubted he liked you because he NEVER says it
But then, slowly, you came to notice that there's small things he does for you that he doesn't do for other people
For example, he always stands super close to you, or tries his best to explain things simply to you because he loves sharing his hobbies with you, or even listening to you rant about whatever the hell, even though he wouldn't be that tolerant to other people
They're not really "affectionate" things but they became special to you so that's that
Since you two don't show physical affection in front of everyone, no one knew you two were dating until like months later, when you mentioned it casually, and to say they were shocked is an understatement
NSFW
I'm not really gonna get too deep into this because I might do a whole other post for it
But in general, I think Senku would be very casual with the concept of sex
Like you guys would be months into the relationship, maybe even a year, and you still would have no clue if he even wants to do it because he'll never ever bring it up
It's not that big of a deal for him, he can survive without it lmfao
He also hates rushing things when it comes to a serious relationship
He's not dumb, though, he knows that relationships include sex and it's not that he's never thought of it, he just won't openly discuss it with you
Mainly because you two are way too busy
But if it were to happen, it would be one of two cases:
You bring it up and talk to him about it
Or it literally just happens out of nowhere (this being more likely)
So if you two were in a private place, and I guess you were smooching, one thing would lead to another, there would be no words exchanged, just him occasionally making sure you're fine
Also on that note, even though he knows everything about everything, keep in mind he's a teenage boy who's never been in a relationship before, so technically, he knows what to do, but he also doesn't... If that makes sense?
Like he knows it might hurt, so he'll be super slow and he'll make sure you're 100% okay
He doesn't know how to be super intimate, he just knows the technical part of it
Either way, he doesn't have a high libido, so sex isn't a big thing for him, it just comes naturally when you two are in the mood
(PHEW THAT WAS LONG AS SHIT)
°•. ✿ .•°
196 notes · View notes
nappingmoon · 5 months ago
Text
nanami finds your perfect engagement ring -of course- but he is torn on the decision of the accompanying bands. he revisits the jeweler over weeks, standing before the glass and comparing the rings in the display to pieces of your favorite jewelry from past photos. they would all look so gorgeous and each unique ring aspect reminds him of a different part of you and, rather than leave any option behind, he gets a bunch. some have little emeralds, because the pop of green just compliments your skin tone so well. another is simple, just a band for your quieter days, when things get overwhelming. one stack of rings joins together like a little sun, and even with all the diamonds set in it, it cannot even hope to match half of your sparkle.
he gives each one to you on a different date. one night, he takes you for a beach stroll. you've just finished dinner at the most beautiful restaurant on the coast and as you walk hand in hand, your sandals in his free hand, you're focused on the sensation of the sand between your toes, and how the water feels lapping up before receding. when you turn around, he's got his eyes fixed on you. his gaze is soft and full of nothing but adoration and you watch him sneak his hand into the pocket of his pants before pulling out a stunning little band, decorated with small pearls. "kento, you did not!" you squeal, giddily making your way back to him, leaving small divots in the wet sand. you throw your arms around his neck without thought, and he grips on to the ring hard while his arms come around your back, intent on not dropping it. he replaced the sapphire embellished ring with the new one, perfectly fitting around your sparkling engagement ring. the blues were cute by the water but the pearls brought in such an elegant aspect. after taking a moment to admire it, you rise back to your tippy toes and bring your husband in for a kiss.
he smiles against your lips, pleased. "i take it, you like the ring?" he asks, as if he had even a smidge of doubt.
"it's perfect, my love." your response is echoed by the waves, the soft rumble of the ocean glittering under the moonlight only strengthening the resolve in your voice.
232 notes · View notes
pngjamie · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Hey guys,
192 notes · View notes
ilovemesomevincentprice · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
VINCENT PRICE as Frederick Loren --
HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL (1959)
114 notes · View notes
mousysunstars · 2 months ago
Text
Oh god
Tumblr media
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Im GOING CRAZY BONKERS BANANAS
128 notes · View notes
phoebecatesl0vr · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Urgh the way he makes me feel
62 notes · View notes
quintinh43 · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
IM FUCKING FLOORED
148 notes · View notes
captain-ghost · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
A litol Jack kitty because I don't do anything productive. Ever.
56 notes · View notes
eveningepiphany · 1 year ago
Text
welcome to the final show | H.S, part 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media
the girlies asked so I deliver!
read part one here, or check out my masterlist!
summary: after the accidental cafe run in, harry and y/n have wound up with each others numbers. and are quick to go from casual texting to organising another time to meet up. including a cafe trip and an unexpected ice creamery visit.
warnings: fluff, swearing, minor mentions of alcohol, nothing too heavy, just our lovely italyrry who is the sweetest ever.
a/n: thank you all so so much for the incredible amount of support on the first part of this official series. and also for your patience in waiting for me to hurry up and post an update. i know it’s been like 2 weeks since the first part, but I really wanted to give you something i took my time working on <3
———
There’s a certain type of disbelief that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.
It’s the kind that you feel straight to your core. That randomly dumps on you during the day like a bucket of water, and leaves your head spinning like that very bucket came crashing down with it.
It happens in a single moment, but lingers for a long time after the fact.
That’s exactly how you felt after harry texted you first. Because not even a few hours later after you’d exchanged numbers, he sent you through, not only a message, but a photo of all things.
One that made your heart swell with its endearing qualities.
A photo of a plate, filled with the food you’d told him earlier that day was one of your favourites.
Sent with a further little message below it,
Your favourite is currently up for grabs at the family gathering. H
The way he’d signed his intial off at the bottom had you nearly throw your phone across the room at how adorable it was.
Like as if you didn’t even know who you were texting.
Again it strewn your thought— is he aware the kind of mental effect this is having on you? Because you’re borderline going to need to phone for an ambulance.
You’re a simple person. A fangirl, to say the least. This shit, despite being able to say ‘I’ve met and talked with Harry Styles for more than 10 minutes’ does not just disappear.
And you had promised yourself not to tell anyone that this had happened— or was happening? Because there would be nothing worse than this somehow ending up online.
And not to treat him like a flighty deer instead of a grown man, but you would hate for that to place a kind of distrust in his hands.
However, all of that self-agreement doesn’t take away the nagging voice in your head that just wants to tell at the very least your immediate friends and family.
But you’re proud to say— after a long 2 minutes of pacing around your hotel room— you manage to craft a reply back.
Well, only after a few rough and undeniably embarrassing drafts that quickly get deleted out of the text bar.
You’re back to sitting on the floor against the bed frame, facing the window looking out on the gorgeous colours of the evening Italian sky.
Heart pounding, and you’re sure this scene from a third person perspective would look like it was pulled from a hallmark movie.
Girl fawning over man’s simple text. Kicking her feet in the glow of Italian sun, with a glass of wine on the floor next to her.
You stared at your finalised message and decided if you didn’t send it now, you would spiral into a never ending pit of doubt. And just end up overthinking the whole thing.
So you just did it. And now on the screen, under his blue message, was your own grey one.
there’s no way. it looks so good! im gonna see if it’s on my room service menu tbh. consider me inspired.
You bit your knuckles. Acting up like a fucking teenager. Waiting for the shock to subside before you actually get up to find the hotel menu.
After you replied back, you were sweating, honestly. Anxious at the fact you had just sent a text to Harry Styles. And unlike a conversation, that shit is permanent. So too bad if it comes off embarrassing.
Which of course, it didn’t on his end. Unbeknownst to you, he almost physically gleamed at sight of your name on his screen for the first time.
You’d nearly dropped your glass of wine when your phone vibrated up on the counter of the hotels kitchen where it was charging.
It’d been about half an hour from when you replied, you’d since ordered room service and sat in your bed to watch tv.
You made sure to place your glass elsewhere as you ran over to grab your phone.
If it wasn’t already all gone I’d save you some. Any luck with the room service?
You’d replied back swiftly, disregarding any kind of waiting to text back rule. You were all too eager to wait.
i managed to score some up from the room service. didn’t look as appetising as yours, but it was still enjoyed. x
And at this, he smiled, looking at the Italian sunset as he thought of you with a curiosity he recognised as all too unhealthy.
———
If you had told yourself two days ago in that cafe, that you have had several full conversations with harry after getting his number… you probably would have laughed.
Yet its not a joke of any kind. You can pinch yourself over and over again looking at those texts, but all you’ll end up with is a bruise and they will be just as real.
But as you read over the most recently received one, pinching would have not been enough of a reality check.
Maybe a frying pan? Probably would do the trick.
You scanned over his words, rubbing your eyes like you were tired and seeing shit— even though you’d been awake since 9am, which was 2 hours ago.
Unless you have plans, I’m going to try this cafe a friend recommended me a while back, if you wanted to tag along?
[ 1 attachment link]
And there’s simply no way that this is happening? But after 30 seconds without a follow up text telling you he’s accidentally sent this to the wrong person, you sit up straight.
Well, you’re not about to ask him if he’s serious right now, so you channel every fibre of casualness left within you and use it to construct a response.
id love to! I’ll get ready to go soon if you want to meet there before 12:30?
That works perfectly. did you need a lift, or are you in walking distance. I can pick you up if you need.
You almost keel over at his offer, and the absolute gentleman move he just made.
You also realise you didn’t even look where the cafe was. Because if Harry Styles asks you to go somewhere with him the answer should always be yes. Figure out the means of getting there and back later.
Either way you open the link and get taken to google maps, and the cafe in question is literally a 10 minute walk away from you.
im in walking distance, it’s about 10 minutes away. so I’ll just make my way there at about 12:15! thank you for the lovely offer though.
And you move as quickly as possible from your bed to your suitcase, ready to tear that thing apart for an outfit.
You don’t want to be over the top, but you have to go with something on the shorter side because it’s already in the high 20’s and it’s not even afternoon yet. So you lug out the many summer dresses you crammed in there, hoping that one of them will strike your interest.
Some get tossed back into your bag as you filter through them, not making the cut for a variety of reasons— like showing too much of your cleavage.
Yea, a good few of them get ruled out for that reason.
But eventually— and thank god, because you were starting to loose hope— you find one that is perfect for the occasion. It’s all types of flowy and comfortable, but still maintains the pretty connotation that summer dresses are known for.
Before putting it on, you go into the bathroom and do your morning routine— fixing your hair as a final step, but deciding to leave it out since there is hardly any wind outside to make it a mess. Plus it will suit the dress.
You somehow managed to take long enough that the next time you look at your phone you realise it’s nearing 12:15pm a lot faster than you expected. So you hustle to get the rest of your shit together, and make your way out the door.
The walk there is as peaceful as you could imagine, just the sounds of chatter from passer-by’s and birds lingering in trees dotting the sidewalk.
But on the inside you are still panicking. The last time you’d meet him in a cafe was a total surprise. This time it’s planned, and that leaves too much room for your brain to overthink it.
As you finally push through the doors of the cafe you had found your way to, a tiny bell above jingles. But you’re hardly focused on it as you look to the front counter.
Seeing the exact person you were here for already grabbing two drinks from a barista at what you can only assume is a pickup counter.
As he spins around, he catches your momentary surprise, complimented by flushed cheeks. To this he smiles and nods you over with his head.
He looked excited to see you. Like a longtime pair of friends meeting up again after a while apart.
Your feet kick back into gear at his nod, following him over to a table that’s tucked into the corner. He had his pleasing bag slung across the top of the chair.
“Hi lovely,” he says the minute you’re close enough to hear his deep voice.
“Hi Harry.” You smile, heart still beating too fast. The words feeling different as they get spoken from your mouth.
He walks the few steps around the table, closing the gap still between you— and he doesn’t wait for you to hug him, he just pulls you straight into the warmth of his arms.
Wrapping you up in a way that you can smell the cologne lingering on the dip of his neck into his shoulder.
His accent is muffled by your hair as he talks gently, “how’ve you been?”
The common question has your head reeling. In its simplicity is still sweetness.
You pull back, his eyes training on yours, looking keenly at you, awaiting an answer from your almost shy lips.
“I— yes, I’ve been really good thank you.” You nod, how could you not be? Look where your standing, who you’re standing with.
“What about you…?” You ask, watching as the corners of his pink mouth upturn.
He’s freshly shaven, you notice, and your fingers twitch with the need to glide over the smooth skin of his cheek.
You resist as he answers, still relatively closer than you should be out in a public place.
“I’m doing well, even better now.” He raises his eyebrows, a cheeky grin coming on his face.
He revels in blood that rushes into your cheeks, reddening them up like you’ve just run a mile.
“Oh, stop it. You’re a bloody flirt.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to play it off, and you also take a step back to seat yourself in the chair at the table he’d picked.
Maybe he was a flirt at most times. But from his perspective, with you in a dress like that? Not to sound like he’s drawing on the one direction lyrics, but as if you don’t know you’re beautiful.
I mean, sure, he thinks you’re aware that you’re pretty. But in the way it’s working him up, you seem to be clueless.
Because he’s almost stumbling on his words at the sight of you, soft fabric flowing seamlessly over your tan skin, cutting off above your knees leaving him with thoughts that he should not be having in a public space.
But at the same time, he tries to convince himself it’s nothing but a wholesome coincidental friendship. Even though if at any point tabloids get a hold of this, it will be very very far from that.
You’re watching as he looks a little caught up in thought, and you chuckle at it.
The sweet noise breaks him out of it, and he’s grateful for that. It was a rabbit hole he was happy to just not go down right now.
“Can’t help it,” he shrugs, going over to his own seat.
“Now, i need the full story of what happened with your friends luggage at the Singapore airport?”
You let out a laugh, a little surprised he even remembers to bring it up. You had been texting about travel, and told him the time your friend had her luggage lost in a layover between Singapore and London last month.
“I mean, where did it leave it off?” You had explained a partial amount of the story. But told him, if you’d planned another cafe trip it would be a lot easier to explain the ins and outs.
And he was overly excited to watch you tell the tale. Watch the way your hands moved as you animatedly told the story, and the way your eyes get a little lost in thought.
He caught tiny glimpses of it the first time you’d met, but he craved to watch it happen in full. Among other things.
You told him how you’d had 12 hour layover, but that you guys didn’t want to book a hotel since they were so expensive. But you were still meant to collect your luggage— and everyone else but your friend Bonnie got it back.
“She’s Scottish, crazy red hair and she is like a fire cracker. She was actually at the last show, in the front with us, but anyway— so she’s running around Singapore airport accosting all the staff with her stressed out and angry Scottish accent.”
You went back and forth with the many fuck arounds of that day, how you went from halfway across the airport to a misplaced baggage unit per a staffs advice, only for the lady at the front desk to say it wasn’t there— and to go back to the support centre.
“It was not funny at the time,” you said, “but fuck, looking back now it’s pretty good. And it makes a fun story to tell.”
“So where did she actually get her stuff back?” He asks, frowning with a curious smile.
“Oh, like 6 hours after we originally got off the plan. They’d told us to wait up at that little customer support place and after like another hour and a half, some really frazzled guy came running up with it.”
And you laughed at the image in your head, sweaty and looked terrified he’d gotten the wrong bag, “We asked where it had gotten lost, but he just asked if it was certainly ours, then when we said yes he nodded and practically ran the other way.”
Harry was smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.
“God, is that quite a story.”
“See why I said texting it would have been way too hard.” You amend, reaching for the deserted cup of tea you hadn’t even drank out of yet, taking a sip.
Exactly how you like it, and you smile. Watching him watch you drink it.
“Just how you like it, yea?” He asks to confirm. But also lost a little in the way the liquid seamlessly travels from the cup down your throat.
“Yea, perfect.” You nod, clutching the warm cup between your hands, tongue swiping out over your lips.
“Anyways, what about your own crazy travel stories. Since you’ve done plenty of it.” You prompt, unaware of his remaining gaze.
The afternoon went of just like that. Telling stories and sharing funny little anecdotes that had you laughing so hard that tears were about to spill from your waterline.
You slowly forget that it’s Harry Styles you’re sitting with. And of course that sounds weird. But it’s like there came a certain point in the afternoon where he just became simply Harry.
Nothing more, nothing less.
It had been a rather long time you sat in that same cafe with him. So much that the chairs, originally very comfortable, had started to become the opposite as time flew on.
“Are these chairs starting to hurt your ass too?” He asks, humour lacing his tone as he watches you adjust yourself in the chair for the third time in the last 10 minutes.
“Yea, the metal seats are lowkey not it.” At this he laughs, the way you word things somehow being more entertaining than most.
“Well, cmon, I already paid, we can go for a walk if you want?” He rises from his place, and you’ve never stood up quicker.
“Braving the Italian sun at its very brightest are we?” You joke, smiling as he grabs his bag and slings it over one of his broad shoulders.
“Could be a big regret, could also be very scenic.” He says as you grab both your empty cups.
“I forgot to put sunscreen on as well, so might have a different colour forehead to the rest of my body but… oh well.” he shurgs, following you over to the small bin by the cafe door.
You’re immediately thinking of the time he went to a show after going out golfing and he had a sunburnt head.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” And it takes you by surprise that the teasing words made it out of your mouth.
Yet, he seems happily indifferent to it, like it’s of course something you’d know, “Whatever you.”
Your laughing at his response as you hold the door open for him, exiting the cafe into the heat.
A tortured sigh is let out of you both at the swelter of it. The concrete pavement doing nothing but intensify it.
“I underestimate the weather every day here, I’m wearing too many layers of clothing to be dealing with this.”
“Take your hoodie off you dolt.”
He usually keeps layers on so that his tattoos are less visible. Since they’re often a dead giveaway of who he is. So his hands hesitates as they slip to the hem of his jumper.
“Don’t tell me you went out with just a jumper on, no other layers. In Italy?” You shake your head, still smiling as you slowly walk into the shaded part of the sidewalk.
“No— I did.” He laughs, “just m’tattoos usually garner some attention.”
He clarifies, “that sounded really egotistical, not the tattoos themselves, I meant people recognise me easier when they’re out.”
“Oh!” You stumble a little in your thought process. Feeling a little silly for not realising.
“I kind of like… forgot?” You say, coming to a stop as he eventually succumbs to the heat and peels the jumper over his head. Folding it up and popping it into his bag, glancing at you with a tiny breathe of relief at his new found ventilation. Hands moving to tousle with his hair in attempt to flatten it after pulling the jumper over it.
“I mean, i did. too honestly.” He agrees, continuing to walk forward.
You read into that a million different ways. But he makes sure you don’t get confused, “Y/N, don’t look so worried. I just mean you’re a very easy person to get… i dunno, lost in.”
Oh okay? How does one just casually continue putting one foot in front of the other after someone says something like that?
“You flatter me too much.” You roll your eyes, still as awful as ever at masking your shock or adoration for something someone’s said.
“Cmon, you’re just too humble i think.” He bumps you with his shoulder.
You’re laughing at him. But stop dead in your tracks as you stop something across the road.
“H.” You say, and he also comes to a halt. Taking a moment to process your use of his nickname. Like the way it so gently came from you.
Yet you sound almost dire, so he’s looking over where you are, scanning the sunny street for something that could possibly concern you?
For a moment he thinks it may be paparazzi, but this side of town is usually much better in regards to that.
He feels protective of you, “What? Are you okay?”
“There’s ice cream over there.” You say, hand coming up to cover your mouth a little.
A breath of relief fills his lungs, “i— you made it out like this was a life or death situation about t’unfold.”
Your expression turns to a grin, “no, i just love Italian ice creameries!”
“Can we please go and get some?” You glance back to him, and his own smile widens at your face. Gleaming with this unfiltered excitement over something so simplistic.
“Of course we can.” And you’re immediately grabbing his wrist to tug him across the road towards the shop.
“As if I could say no to you, anyway.” He laughs as he keeps up with your quick pace, clearly on a mission.
Once inside the store, with its pink and mint coloured walls and decor, you move to look at the collection of flavours.
The staples such as vanilla and strawberry, but then a small selection of more slightly diverse ones, like peanut butter brownie or salted caramel.
Their cookie dough ice cream looks amazing though, filled with chocolatey chunks of cookie. So you decide relatively fast that’s what you want.
And then you turn to Harry, whose eyes are still darting between flavours indecisively.
“What one do you want?” You ask, and he adverts his eyes to you.
“No I’ll order.” He shakes his head.
“No-no. Let me get this for you, please.” He goes to protest and you nudge him with your elbow, “don’t be stubborn. I want to get you something.”
“I— fine. But know you’re just as pushy as i am.” He scoffs with a laugh.
“I’ll get… maybe chocolate?” He points to it, and you nod.
The older lady at the counter is overly lovely, and you’re rattling off your order to her with a beaming smile.
Harry watches your interaction with her, and how you take a moment to compliment the heart covered apron she was wearing.
His heart trips over it’s own rhythm at the sight.
You pays and he still feels a little guilty, but figures he can make it up to you next time they go out by getting you a cookie or two with your tea.
You come back to his side with the two cones, stacked two scoops tall, and hand one to him.
“Thank you, you didn’t have to though.”
“It’s fine, Harry. Do you wanna find somewhere outside to sit?” You ask, turning to wave at the lady who served you as your slowly exiting the shop.
“Sure, i saw that little bench under a tree a couple shops down near that park.” He nods, taking his turn to lead the way there.
You shortly find the way there, sitting yourselves down on it, looking out onto a small playground with some kids swinging on monkey bars and sliding down the slide.
“Italian ice cream will forever be the best kind of ice cream.” You sigh out with pleasure, licking over the cool scoop.
He unwittingly is blushing at the sight, suddenly batting away mental images at the sight of your pink tongue jutting out of your mouth.
Shaking his head, he pushes them aside. “Definitely. You can tell it’s handmade.”
He busies his own tongue on his own ice cream, only stealing occasional glances to you at his side.
But he can’t help but tilt his cone to you, “Wanna try the chocolate?”
His offer comes as the equivalent of a brick to the head, but you’re invested in making yourself not seem psychotic.
So you nod nonchalantly, “i will, but I have a feeling that’s just because you want some of mine.”
“Mm, maybe I do a little.” He agrees, but any other coherent thought dies where it was in his head at you leaning over to his own cone. Your tongue running over the ice cream, collecting up its sweet residue.
You nod, “That’s so good.” Acting like you’ve got a normal internal monologue right now. Even though she’s hurling things at you that you can’t all process in such a short flash of time.
You just put your mouth where his has been! He is about to do the same thing! His eyes look a little blown out! What the fuck!
Pretty much what it sounds like up there, along with some alarm bells and screaming.
However you just gesture your cone to him, taking mental images of him mirroring what you did just before.
He hums a sound of enjoyment as he pulls back, glancing up at you, pinning you with his green gaze. “Good choice.”
You agree with a slight mumble, shaking your head momentarily to clear your thoughts. Ready to change the subject so you can internally recollect yourself.
“I only regret sitting out here since it’s melting so fucking fast.”
“I know,” he also settles quickly back into the normality of the moment, “i cant eat it quicker than the rate it’s melting.”
“It’s cold though, which is at least a win.”
Conversation trails on as normal while you finish off the ice cream. Discussing if biting the bottom off an ice cream cone is normal or not.
And before you know it you check your phone when you get a text from your mum, asking what time you’re able to call tonight.
She misses you heaps, you can tell. But despite the timezone difference you are making it work.
You also glance up at the time and realise it’s nearing 4pm. And you have just spent majority of the afternoon with Harry.
You also realise you’d agreed to have dinner with all of your friends in one of their hotel rooms tonight.
“Seems like it’s my turn to have to be the one to bail.” You say, popping your phone in your back pocket and looking back at Harry.
“That’s okay, love, what’s the plans for the evening.”
You explain that you’ll go over the the girls hotel room and probably just eat pizza, and then go back to your own room and call your mum for a bit.
He feels a little sad you even have to leave, which is odd, but he nods anyway, “That sounds fun. Solid plan.”
You reluctantly rise from your seat next to him. “So…” you take a tiny breath in, “am I the one picking the next cafe we go to?”
He beams internally at the fact you’re also trying to plan the next time you’re able to meet up with each other.
“I reckon so, Angel.” He stands as well, “I’m good for any day.”
Any plans he has can be rearranged for you.
“Alright!” You feel better immediately knowing you can see him again soon.
“Thanks for the ice cream too, by the way.” He says, walking back over to the pathway with you.
“It’s okay.” You smile, nervously being the one to give him a goodbye hug. A small flutter erupts in your stomach as his hands pull you flush to him around your lower back.
“I’ll see you soon, mkay?”
“Yea. Ill talk to you later.” You remind yourself that he’s easily accessible to talk to. You literally have his number.
“Bye H.” You give him a squeeze, pulling away with a smile, “Bye Y/N.” And you wave as you start the walk back to your hotel. Plenty of things to think about.
———
“Did you guys see the supposed pics of harry today on harryflorals? He was hanging out with someone apparently!” Nina asks everyone.
Only two of you hadn’t, including yourself.
She passes the phone first to you, and you frown.
“I know, looks like it’s taken on a potato.” She says, assuming your furrowed brows are due to the fact the image is really hard to get anything from.
Unless you know that park bench he’s ‘allegedly’ sitting on. And that the blurry figure next to him is almost certainly you— but no one else can tell.
“Yea… shit that is…” You pause, brain freezing a little, “bad quality.”
You hand her phone back. But caption of the post still festering in your head long after the moment is over.
HARRY *SUPPOSEDLY* WITH A GIRL IN ITALY TODAY! but this is the only pic we got 💔
———
ahh and that’s part two! I hope you guys are enjoying this, and I’m so excited to write more about these two. cant wait for you to see what’s in store for them.
thank you again for your patience while waiting for this second part, and to all the lovely people who requested this oneshot to be made into something more.
taglist:
@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @lquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss
+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love
836 notes · View notes
aussietransgoth · 4 months ago
Text
I believe in Wilson-in-his-McGill-Sweater supremacy
Tumblr media Tumblr media
LOOK AT HIM IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH-
110 notes · View notes
aidansplaguewind · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Low Down (2000)
683 notes · View notes
everett-rosfield77 · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Behold his nose scrunch your honor
35 notes · View notes
ilovemesomevincentprice · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
Vincent Price - Diary of a Madman (1963)
637 notes · View notes