#unhealthy attatchment

[pixlefritter]

ah, ok.

[ineffectualdemon]

Liu Qingge: don't you think there's something creepy about how intensely obsessed with you Luo Binghe is?

Shen Qingqiu, former Otaku who had a room covered in Luo Binghe merch and thought about Luo Binghe absolutely all time since transmigrating: honestly? it seems the normal amount of obsession to me

Liu Qingge: ...

[sadistic-softie]

My favorite unhealthy character dynamic:

Parasocial doctor/patient where the patient keeps purposely getting hurt just so this one doctor can treat their wounds because getting their wounds treated is the equivalent of peak intimacy for them.

They can't get enough of this one doctor treating them and they catch unrequited feelings and the doctor becomes more and more concerned and horrified about the parasocial nature of the patients feelings for them and the self harm the patient keeps doing. Over time, the doctor starts genuinely getting attached to the patient from the constant worry and repeated caring for them.

The doctor even starts to wish for the patient to come back with another injury so they can see them again while also pleading with them not to get into so much danger, which only makes the patient fall more in love. And it's really dangerous and unhealthy and traumatic and beautiful in all the worst, most horrible ways.

I've had this idea in my head a lot but I never felt confident enough to write it into a story in the past because I didn't think I could write it properly yet but I think I can figure something out now maybe with enough motivation. This could also work for fanfictions and AUs and such. I just love stories about horrible relationships and moral ambiguity, especially if it takes the time to make it beautiful without glorifying or condoning shitty things.

This dynamic is something I think of a lot for various characters in these fandoms:

House M.D.

NBC Hannibal

Saw (specifically for Lawrence Gordon ships)

[rainingincale]

.

[wildtornado-o]

The vibe

[pompadourks]

Ngl I’ve been having a rough go at it recently so I’ve been playing more RDR and also getting high and doing both at the same time and yesterday I just… started crying cus I remembered Arthur Morgan wasn’t real… so that’s how things are going

[y4nd3r3gf]

I want your attention- No, I need it.

I don’t want you to confuse my actions with my words. Sometimes I fear you think I can go days without you- but in reality, I truly can’t. I want to be the center of your attention. Be the only person you need.

I want you to give me something that you’d never dare share with others. Give me your affection- all of it.

Until the very last drop- neverending.

Give me your obsession; let me be your obsession.

Send me a text every time you think of me. I’d never grow bothered by you, how could that possibly ever happen? Only a fool would mess up a chance with you. But I won’t- I’d beg for you to even turn and look at me.

Behind a faceless mask- my eyes follow your every move, praying you’d notice me- even if it’s only once.

Your gaze is for eternity, just like my love for you.

[tomurderornottomurder]

fresh fruit; wilhelm wicki

pair. wilhelm wicki x gn!reader

summ. the sniper's delight orchard bears some fruit for you n wicki the snipers :)

gen. fluff

tw. eating, food, description of eating food

wc. 400+

note. oldish draft i like :)

Not only is the orchard an absolute delight to you and Wilhelm, the designated snipers for this mission, but the orchard actually has fresh, edible apples. You hadn't eaten fresh anything for god knows how long. Just the sight of the apple-bearing trees nearly made you cry. To say you're happy is an understatement. You took your chance as you and the other basterds snuck across the fields, filling your pockets full of fruit. 

Once you and Wilhelm get into position as well as the rest of the basterds, you shoot him a playful smile. He spares you a look before turning his attention back to the task at hand. "Rate mal, was ich habe (Guess what I got)," You singsong, pulling a shiny, bright red apple from your pocket, turning it in your hand. 

"Du hast einen Apfel geklaut? (You stole an apple?)" 

"Several apples," You scoot closer to him, holding the apple up to his cheek. 

He keeps his focus, looking ahead through the scope of his rifle. He hasn't quite got to the point where he's completely comfortable in telling you that he loves your shenanigans (and you) but he can never deny you. "Are you trying to distract me on purpose?" He teases, eye still forward.

"No," You lean into him, "but I wanna see you try one." 

That catches his attention. He turns his head to look you up and down. His brows furrow as he practically examines you and your apple. 

"C'mon, please," You lay your head on his shoulder and look up at him.

"One bite," He bargains.

Your nose scrunches up as you smile at him, scrambling to sit across from him and hand him the apple. "Okay, go on," You sit like an eager dog, foaming at the mouth.

He doesn't get why you're so eager to see him bite into an apple but he obeys your little wish. As always, he can't deny you. He flicks his eyes to yours before sinking his teeth into the crisp, juicy apple. He savors the taste with juice and drool dribbling down to his chin. "There," He holds the apple out to you.

Your smile widens before you rock forward onto your knees, reaching a hand out to wipe the line from his face. Swiping your thumb from the corner of his mouth down to his chin. "There," You smirk, ghosting your fingers over his as you take the apple from him. 

He tries his best to hide the shiver that slinks down his spine. 

Then you take a bite from the same apple, eyeing Wilhelm the whole time. "Wunderbar, if I don't say so myself." You shoot him a wink before gesturing to his rifle, "Better get back to work, Corporal."

[theanonymousninja247]

My reaction to this comic. I literally waited ALL day to come home from work to take this picture because this was just too real and raw for me not to be real myself to show how much it shook me

so face reveal sorta?

I can’t tell you how much closure I’ve received watching this 😪🙏🏼🫶🏼🧡

✨Note to self: Isolation is not the answer✨

This ended up way longer than I originally anticipated but I have no regrets, I also got carried away in one too many shots and regret none of it

Enjoy!

part1 | part2 | part3 | part 4 context: 1 / 2/ 3 / 4

After calming down the two of them just sit down and talk about it, Oneion explains everything more calmly, all the messures his brothers have taken to prevent him going into Survival Mode along with the ways they've find out to snap him out or fully stop him

(From then on Sprout has a high voltage taser intalled on his prostethic, just in case)

This is pretty much it on my part for the whole OneOne-Toast fight aftermath situation! Ell did a thing with One and Poptart too!

I also have some more Sprout and Oneion doodles, they are not connected to this event but I might post them over the weekend

[milo-is-rambling]

Did I ever post that one draft from forever ago ? bc it’s hitting again.

[nosecondivelived]

caved in and searched up spoilers for a video game while playing it. very ashamed but would do it again. spoilers for arkham knight in the tags

[stuffforme2]

I LOVE how the show pushes Nick's obsessive attatchement to Charlie, we can see it in the books yet no one really talks about it or notices it but in the show it's being smeared in our faces so we have to see it. We can see that Nick isn't okay and that makes sense! He had only recently discovered himself he doesn't feel like he needs to hide who he is or pretend to be something he's not he can be comfortable and Charlie helped him find that.part of him.so.ofciurse he's going to be reliant on Charlie! Because he's been hiding for so long he doesn't know who he is anymore and he relies on Charlie to help him build this new part of himself.

Charlie helped Nick wake up. Helped Nick find himself. So when Charlie leaves Nick can't help but question if he's even allowed to be himself without Charlie he can't help but question if he is only himself with Charlie and if he is anything without Charlie.

The time without Charlie was tough and emotional but also what Nick needed if he stayed with his unhealthy attatchement to Charlie permanently then it would only fester into something more drastic. Nick feels like he needs Charlie but "one person can't cure mental illness." Nick is Ill. He loves Charlie but his attatchement is unhealthy and I think that's what he realizes durig their time apart.

He loves Charlie, he loves Charlie so much, but he can't make Charlie his everything. He needs to be himself even when Charlie isn't around.

Don't make one person your everything, even if you love them. You need to be you outside of them.

[eveningepiphany]

welcome to the final show | H.S, part 3

my masterlist!

part one and part two!

summary: harry goes over to y/ns hotel for a good old room service dinner, also getting a little tipsy on wine, while starting to blur some lines. and it’s not long before things are no longer just between the two of them.

warnings: fluff, swearing, alcohol, getting a lil wine drunk, paparazzi, being confused on if you’re falling in love or just really good friends.

a/n: i’m so excited to finally have this written for you all! i’ve had some pretty bad writers block, hence the delay in getting it to you, but thank you so much again for your support and I hope you enjoy <3

———

There’s a certain type of attatchment that comes around once and a while. It’s rare.

It’s when things start to flourish. Maybe with a hobby, a passion, or a new found person. One your brain decides to put all its focus and interest on, to the point it’s all consuming.

This one gets stuck to you like glue. Hard to shake in the sense of no matter how hard you try to ignore it, it’s all you can think about.

Losing yourself in daydreams of something or someone without even realising, until you’re reaching for anything that will bring you closer to filling that need.

That’s exactly what’s leading you to be reaching for your phone at any given point of the day.

You imagine many perceive it to be a permanent growth on your person. But you can hardly help it. Texting is a simple way to reach someone. Feel connected.

So, safe to say you’ve messaged Harry more than your own family over the course of this trip.

You’ve become attached. To Harry Styles. Again…?

Of course, being a huge fan it’s easy to say you should probably already be accustomed to this, given your level of obsession.

But this is a whole other ball game. One that is becoming like an internal battle. Your already unhealthy and predisposed infatuation paired with now a real physical connection is enough to render you useless.

You reach for your phone. Text him, your brain begs. You consider. No, stop being clingy you loser, your brain rolls her metaphorical eyes. You place the phone down. Stare at a wall. Think about him. Rinse, repeat.

Not normal, you don’t think.

However, you search for some kind of justification. That you’re just good friends, and all that shit. It’s normal to miss someone you’re friends with.

If he considers you as that.

Which you would hope since you’ve been texting him enough it would be concerning if he saw you as just some mutual of his.

You’re also sitting in a cafe, unfortunately without him right now. Eating a croissant wishing that he were here. Allowing your gaze to linger on the chair across from yourself, imagining his solid frame filling up the empty space. What he would do if you stood up and ran a hand through his hair, maybe lent down a little so you could just—

The ring of the bell atop their entrance chimes and drags you out if your dangerous and spiralling thoughts. And for some reason get excited like you’ve somehow manifested this man to walk through the cafe door by thinking of him.

Feeling silly at the nag of disappointment in your stomach as you see an ordinary bloke saunter over to the till.

Maybe one you would check out, or emit some kind of interest in before you properly met Harry. You would feel disloyal now. Like the parasocial relationship has entered an entirely new level of psychotic.

If it’s still parasocial, that is. Or if now you’re just simply a girl with very cloudy and mixed feelings about a very beautiful man.

You audibly sigh out. Eating the final bite of your admittedly delicious croissant and picking up your phone.

You type out a message, sending it before you can even think it.

I’m in a cafe right now without you and you’ve honestly ruined them for me. I miss you and your free cups of tea.

Without me? Rude.

You laugh at his quip, watching as the little bubble pops back up indicating he’s typing.

I’m out right now, but if you’re not busy later we can do something? Go out or I can come over to yours.

You pluck mindlessly at your bottom lip with your teeth, how could you say no to that?

You stress over it either way.

well, you’re very welcome to come over to my hotel room. we can order room service if you want?

To this he texts back an agreement, seemingly keen. And you realise immediately you have to tidy your room before he comes over.

You swing him the location of where you’re staying, including your room and floor number.

Thank you love, ill be there in like 3 hours say? If that works for you.

At that, you stand, because who are you if not over-prepared. And it was time to go make sure your room didn’t like a war had been waged in it when he came over for the first time.

Cant be having a bad impression, you figured.

———

You did in fact rush back to your hotel complex. Not even stopping a crepe stall you passed by, which had to be a first for you. You clean the place until it appears well-kept at the least.

And once you’re finished, you easily fall back into overthinking the whole thing. So excited, yet getting those anxious jitters like a caffeine addict 12 hours no coffee.

Which is why you decide to busy yourself with an afternoon shower. And at the time you’d still had over an hour to go.

You take of course longer than you intended, and shortly after you come out there’s a knock at your door, easily making you jump as you tug a shirt over your head. Regretting the last minute decision for a shower since now you have wet hair and probably look like a right mess.

But it’s not like you can leave him out there while you go blow dry your hair, so you rush over to the door, and tug it open.

His brows shoot up, and a smile slowly blooms on his face as he takes in your appearance.

Your hair is still near dripping, and you stand in bike shorts and a loose tshirt. The most casual he’s ever seen you. Which he loved the look on you more than he admits to himself.

“Hi darling,” he smirks, a warm feeling settling over him as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Hey, Harry.” You stand for a few moments longer, finally shuflling out of his way to let him through the door. He is adorning a white shirt and has the cutest little bandana around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” You laugh, gesturing him inside, “I was drastically overestimating how long it would take me to shower… hence why im in this state.”

He pulls a hand from behind his back, a cup being presented to you.

“Don’t be silly, y’not in a state at all.”

“You’re joking—“ You gently take the cup from his ringed hands, “Harry!”

“M’sorry, m’sorry. I saw a coffee van on the way and I couldn’t help myself.”

“Did you get one for you?”

“No, but I did have a little sip of yours.” He confesses with a quiet laugh. But he quickly busies himself with your room, padding around and peeking out the balcony window.

You take a sip, watching him examine your space. Grateful you cleaned it.

He asks you a few questions about random things in your room, and you settle yourself on the foot of your bed, cross-legged.

You didn’t really think about the lack of seating in your one man room. But this hardly bothers Harry, since he’s scoped up the room service menu from wherever he found it, and sat next to you.

“Alright… what d’we have.” He talks to himself, opening up the menu and scanning over the foods.

You discuss the options, settling on a pizza and pasta to share, because, well, you’re in Italy.

The night progresses easily as time always seems to do when you’re together, and you fake fight over the best kind of pasta sauce. But he lets you have to last slice of pizza so peace is made shortly after.

“Should we order a wine or something? T’wash the pasta down.” He suggests as the sun begins setting.

“Why not, I won’t say no to some wine.”

That gets ordered to your door, and you go from the foot of the bed to lazing at the head of it. Sipping on wine and recounting old stories, or discussing stupid topics.

“Do you think the chicken or the egg came first?” You swirl your glass around, eyes shifting to look at his side profile as he gazes at your roof.

His cute nose outlined by the warm light off the lamp, which you flicked on in the corner after it got dark.

He bursts out into a laugh, “what kind of question is that?”

“I feel like it indicates the sort of person someone is.” You shrug, smiling.

“What like it gives you an intel on my personality?”

“Something like that.” You nod, “and decides if we have to stop being friends, if you answer the wrong one.”

He grins, “Well, maybe tell me which one to pick so we don’t have to do that.”

“Awh, so you don’t want to stop being friends?” You coo, still staring at him, watching as his eyes flick from the roof over to you.

“Of course not, who else am I meant to go on cafe dates with.” He laughs.

You’re both teetering on the edge of being tipsy, and it’s evident in the way you’re both talking to one another. Borderline flirting, probably a more fitting way to describe it.

“True, because I’d be very hard to replace.” You snort with sarcasm, taking the another sip of wine.

“You would be! I love our little dates.” He smiles, the second time he’s dropped the word date in the last minute.

You’ve scooted closer to one another somehow. Shoulder to shoulder as you steal glances of his beautiful face. Maybe this was subconscious, or on purpose. But you’re drawn to him like a magnet.

“So do I…” You flush.

“I’m a little tipsy.” You clarify, breaking the searing eye contact and looking at the near-empty glass in your hand. A fourth refill would easily tip you over the edge.

He lets out a quiet laugh, “Wine gone to y’head too?”

“Mhm, and I have a track record of poor decision making when I have too much of it.” You recall the plenty of times you did the stupidest shit just because you were wine drunk. Hoping that does not happen tonight.

“Might have to see it one day.”

“One day…” you agree, but you realise that you’re not really in Italy for much longer. You have about a week and a half left now.

“I… Harry,” you turn your body to face him, and he sits up a little, noticing the almost serious tone to your voice.

“I’m leaving soon.” You blurt it out, because it’s the only topic of conversation you’ve both been steering clear of. The thing neither of you want to address because eventually this won’t be easy to do. Who knows how many miles could get out between you.

And it almost hurts you to admit yourself because… where exactly does that leave you both?

Does your contact end when you leave Italy? Do you become people who occasionally text on a bi-monthly basis?

He draws a breath, “So am I.”

You let out your own tortured sigh, turning to pop your glass on the beside table and then lean your head onto his shoulder.

Your heart jumps at the contact, and somewhere in your brain, sober Y/N lets out a gasp, because she would never have the balls to do that.

So the wine maybe was a great idea…?

He wraps an arm around your back, “I go back to London after this.”

“Second week of August as well?” You pray it’s not earlier than the start of the month, since tomorrow is literally the 1st.

“Yea, the 13th.” He nods and it’s the only tiny shred of relief you’re getting from all this. That there’s still time left.

“I fly out on the 12th.” You say quietly.

But there’s a small silence that consumes you both for the first time since you met. Because you’re kind of exasperated for options right now. What do you say to someone who is going to inevitably slip from your grip.

You shake your head at nothing in particular, moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders, since words really weren’t going to cut it.

Somewhere in his muddled brain he notes this is the second time you’ve ever initiated a hug. And he leans into it, the arm he had around your back tugging you infinitely closer.

Your cheek is pressed to his neck, and you swear you feel his lips ghosting over the top of your head.

Slowly, you pull back. And he watches you with sharp green eyes. You hold that gaze, until he’s the one that breaks it. Stifling a groan with his hand, covering his face.

You look at him quizzically.

“I like this more than I probably should.” He gestures now between the two of you.

You chuckle, a tiny flutter in your stomach announcing it’s presence.

“So we’re making the most of the time left in Italy, then?” You put forward, ready to nearly wipe your schedule clean for the man.

Which, who could blame you?

“What are y’doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing, if you’re the one asking.” You laugh, and he smiles wide at your comment.

“Oh, is that so darling?”

You roll your eyes in attempt to be convincing, “of course, you always buy me tea so…”

“Well, that decides we’re going to another cafe I suppose.” His hand reaches for his phone strewn on the quilt somewhere, pulling up google maps to find some nearby cafes.

You perch your head back onto his shoulder to watch him scroll through the options. He stumbles on a beautiful looking one, less than a 10 minute walk away. He looks to see if you approve.

He peers down to where you rest on his frame, smiling unwillingly at the sight of you. Your own eyes trailing up to meet his.

And he swears they linger on his lips. Just for a fraction of a second.

“Mh, what d’ya think.” He gets out, voice suddenly several octaves lower. Almost gravelly.

You almost audibly gulp at the sound of him. Hyperaware of his existence right now, you could nearly zone out thinking about the strength of his arm muscle that’s right now pressed against you.

“Yea… yea that looks amazing. And tomorrow, what time?” Your hands fiddle with themselves in your lap.

“How about 1, since you’re probably gonna wanna sleep in a bit.” He suggests, free hand pushing his curls from his eyes.

The way he knows you’re probably going to want to sleep in. God.

“I’m down.” (Bad)

A smile erupts over your face, and you almost forget that the clock is still ticking. That you only have so long left here.

Which ‘almost forgetting’ isn’t enough to stifle the urge to use it as some kind of yolo shit. Because that is unbelievably strong. Like why not just invite him to stay the night?

Maybe another glass of wine and you can gaslight yourself into cuddling him and just falling asleep. He wouldnt leave unless he had to, so it’s an almost flawless plan.

———

The plan infact, was flawless.

To say the least, he slept at yours. In your bed.

I mean you don’t really remember it, since you talked into the early hours of the morning and drank some more alcohol to really top it all off.

You woke up under the covers, still clutching onto Harrys side.

He was already awake, scrolling on his phone, seemingly unbothered by the fact your head had taken residency on his chest.

You take the initiative to glance at the time in the upper-right corner of his phone, a little shocked when it reads 11:47am.

You do groan at the morning light streaming in the windows immediately after seeing the time though.

“G’morning. D’ya have a headache?” He asks with what you can only assume is the end of his morning voice. Which although just a taste, is enough to send you spiralling.

It’s also around now you realise he’s stripped down into boxers— still clad in his white shirt. What the fuck!

You struggle to form a coherent response.

“Morning. A little.” Your voice comes out as a hum.

Somehow, considering you’re cuddling him right now and you literally just slept in the same bed all night, both of you outwardly are quite relaxed about it.

Nothing is awkward. It feels lovely.

“I want a croissant so bad.” You huff, sitting up, stomach growling like as if you hadn’t eaten in a whole 24 hours.

“So, you’re the kind of person that’s hungry immediately after they wake up?” He laughs, hand coming to push the locks of your bed hair out of your face.

Outside of the sheer domesticity of that (which makes you literally have heart palpitations), your hair is a proper train wreck.

The humidity in Italy has made it horrific.

“I guess I am right now?” You reply to his previous ask, combing your fingers through the locks.

“Jesus Christ.” You curse at its uncooperativeness.

“Y’know that episode of friends where Monica complains about how the humidity fucks her hair, she was so right.”

“I love friends.” He immediately gasps, nearly jolting upright in excitement.

You laugh at his enthusiastic reaction, noting that you have to somehow find time over the next week to watch an episode or two with him.

“And if it’s any consolation, I think your hair looks great.”

“Yea well, it’s not like you’d really be able to relate to the frizzy hair. Since yours look so perfect all the time.” You joke.

This evokes a genuine flush on his face, “Alright, Y/N, calm it down.”

He’s laughing but you swear he actually looks a little flustered. Without the wine as a confidence booster, he seemed like suddenly he didn’t know how to take a compliment.

Unbelievable to you since he probably gets that many a day from strangers on the street.

“I, am going to get up and get ready then, so we can go out and eat.” You state, excited to be seemingly spending the majority of the day with him.

He holds back the urge to beg you to stay in bed with him, and says something nonchalant as if he doesn’t mind you getting up. But when you pad off to the bathroom he stares at your now empty space. And immediately shivers at the lack of your body warmth, despite the already warm humid weather.

After a few trips in and out of the bathroom you come out looking beautiful. And he has to get himself up and ready to go in attempt to not overthink it.

You craved his closeness the whole time it took you to prepare for the day. Every few minutes you’d get this almost overpowering urge to just go out there and throw yourself back into his arms.

It’s borderline pathetic. But now you’ve had him in your bed, his strong arms coddled around you, it’s very hard to not to be just that. His physical presence is perfect and comforting. You’re attached to that as much as any other aspect of him.

He puts on his pants, which were folded neatly on his own bedside table, plucking out the car keys in his pocket, “Im gonna nick down to my rental car, because I have an extra button up in there, so I’ll wear that out.”

He comes back and changes into said white button up, stripping his worn shirt off and leaving it somewhere.

Just like that, you’re ready to go, and you both decide to walk the short way there. It was too nice a morning to not.

The whole walk you’re chatting away as usual. But it’s paired with this newfound physical aspect. The way you so obviously want to be close it hurts.

Yet somehow you both act like it’s nothing. That the brushes of hands and shoulder as you’re in step beside each other is a simple coincidence.

And that when you get breakfast, the two croissants and shared cookie is just a friendly thing. In your head you’re even playing off the touching all throughout breakfast.

Which sounds dirty— but just the little conversational touches. Like a hand reaching out to touch a forearm in laughter, acting as if it adds something important to the moment being shared.

Or that somehow when you leave the cafe, with two takeaway cups of tea, the hands that end up interlinked softly between the two of you is just…

Well… who even knows anymore?

Because you’re walking through italy beside Harry— who is talking about his favourite kind of playground equipment, regardless of if he’s a near thirty year old man— all while holding your hand.

And to take a moment, because it’s important, his hands are everything they’re talked up to be. Littered with chunky rings and calloused fingertips from the years of guitar playing. Yet contrasted by his soft palms, which cups yours with this delicateness it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You also pray that your own hand isn’t sweating profusely in his grasp, because you wouldn’t put a clammy hand past yourself. The already humid weather paired with your anxiety surrounding this whole situation is quite literally the match made in hell.

Nothing about this can be passed off as casual to your brain anymore. You’re literally about to implode.

But you strive to hide it. So you solider on.

“I’m a seesaw girl okay. Hear me out—“

“No, I can totally see that!” He interjects, and you chuckle at his quick agreement to your statement.

“Right? They are so much fun. And even though I nearly took a tooth out playing on one when I was 7, I can still recognise they are superior.”

To that he laughs and bumps his shoulder into yours, “I mean I love that. I’m probably a swing person, I feel like no matter the age I will always be down for it.”

You can agree that a swing is a solid second favourite for you. And as you talk about that point with him, you don’t realise you’ve walked the whole ‘scenic’ route back to your hotel until you turn the corner and the entrance is around the corner ahead. And the way you went usually takes an extra 20 minutes.

It went so fast.

“Are you gonna head off or… come back up with me?” You ask gingerly, the hand not interlaced with his fiddling with the fabric of your clothing.

“Not sick of m’yet?”

“Never…” You shake your head, smiling as he gleams at your answer.

“M’flattered. The feelings mutual love,” he chuckles, “However I do have to go remind my family I’m alive. But it’ll only take about a day until they’re pleased for me to ditch them.”

Gently runs his thumb over your knuckles, whether it be subconsciously or not, “So tomorrow night ill come back over to yours for dinner if you y’want?”

You smile, a little sappy over the way he’s working a plan out like you’re both teenagers, “Yea, thats perfect, and we can try something else off the menu.”

“Maybe, if you want,” he begins carefully, “after that you can come over to where we’re staying. Meet my mum and sister. They’ll love you.”

Now you’re nearly bursting at the seems, “Oh, I would love that, H!”

“Okay, it’s a plan then.” He agrees, pulling his keys from his pocket.

You bid your farewells for the night, unlinking hands and being left with a tingling sensation in it, one that you wonder if he’s also getting.

You go to your hotel room and feel full with joy.

He is all too sweet for this world. And you’re a little obsessed.

———

Although Italy being in Italy feels like being in a bubble, and like you’re so far away from the real world, it is unfortunately a purely mental one.

And there’s one thing about a headspace like that, and it’s just how quickly it can be popped.

At midnight that night a notification pops up on your phone, one that when you open, you have to physically put your phone down.

harryflorals:

what do i even caption this post because is that who i think it is or am i officially delusional? “HARRY WITH A FAN FROM THE LAST SHOW, HOLDING HANDS IN ITALY!” correct me if I’m wrong YALL idek anymore.

And this time, there’s no grain saving your ass. Because this was taken on what, quality wise, looks like a digital camera.

Which has made it so painstakingly obvious that it’s you. And you don’t even remember it being taken?

It was when you were walking back from the cafe, holding hands probably talking about fucking seesaws.

And everyone has caught on fast, because in the comments it’s an all out frenzy.

So, cats officially out of the bag.

———

y’all can expect a part four considering i lowkey left this on a cliffhanger 😝 so its on its way my loves

update: next part, PART 4!

taglist:

@harrystylesgirlie @purple9950 @teamspideyman @rociolunaa21 @spiritofbuddha @lemonhrry @deamus-liv @Iquvlly @kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @hsfanficsrecss @hsstylesrings @saturnheartz @victoriasigaard @lilfreakjez @mrsvxder @skxawngs @theekyliepage @hannah9921 @shiffpring @multifandomsw @roslastyles420 @slutforcoffein @kittenhere @stylesfever @butterfly-lover @daniizstyles @padf00ts-l0ver @sunflowervol18

+ all the anons who sent stuff to my submission box, thank you to you guys too, all my love

[bearyzdiary]

woo!!!! good job on getting a new laptop :33

can i request simon and a reader who has a super unhealthy attachment to him? not like yandere since the reader is more neutral, but just likes spending time with him and kind of bases their life around him >_<

Attached!

Simon x reader

This entry contains…established relationship|slightly obsessed reader|simon is just simon|Written in HC form!| Simon and You are both Minecraft addicts|

When you first met Simon you kinda just saw him around your neighborhood.Being homeschooled as you and your parents didn't like the college around the area.

it wasnt much of choice but you didn't mind with how nice it was being at home you sometimes saw simon walking back home from the train station.You never struck a conversation with him.But both of your parents were friends.

sometimes when his mom would chat with yours,The both of you would kinda just stand there and not saying a single word. that was until your parents made you guys have a conversation about something.

you started to rant to him about minecraft and that was the way to his heart apparently.He was grasping onto every word you said.

Soon he became more talkative towards you.Everytime he saw you he would tell you about his new build he made.

you began to get excited to see and hear about his new build.You hated to admit it but you felt yourself start to get attatched to him.

you loved to hear what he had to say as it seem like he didn't have much friends.You knew about sophie but at the same time she probably wasnt someone you would wanna rant too about minecraft.

You even tried to convince your parents to let you go to his college.But in the end they didn't agree but allowed you to do online classes at the school. Soon you began to rant to Simon about how boring the online classes were and how you were rather go to real school.

Blah blah blah anyway you guys get together! Time for more exciting things!

You’re always in his business! you always wanna know what he’s doing and what’s he up too.

Sometimes you feel bad when you distract him from his school work but you honestly can’t help it. Simon never complains though.

Slowly you learn more of his interests so you and him have more things to talk about.

One day his mom went out of town so you used that time to sleep over. during that you learned about his favorite food and was practically glued to his side as he taught you how to cook it.

You started to kinda mimic him as you began to listen the music he listened to and kinda dressed like he did.

You always wanted to be near him. you wanted to hang out with him as much as you could. He was going out with friends? count yourself in! some of his friends would find it annoying as you were always there but soon they got used to it and wouldn't groan at the sight of your face when you would show up to their hangout clinging to simon's arm.

he tried to tell you that you shouldn't be so clingy but you completely let his words fly over your head as you basically wrapped your entire body around his frame while whispering compliments to him.

He didn't know if this behavior was normal or if his friends were overreacting so he asked his mother for advice on it.

She was a little confused before she explained to simon how he should set boundaries with you. He spent the rest of the night cooped up in his room making a list of boundaries he wanted you to respect. He practied in his beaten up mirror what he was going to say before taking in deep breath as he went to bed in hopes that you would listen.

The next day when you came over, Simon instantly made it known that there was something very important he wanted to disscus with you. you got a little scared that he was dumping you. as simon explained how he needed some space and how you were a little to clingy for comfort you let out a sigh of relief as the fear of being dumped soon was washed away.

You promised him you would start to work on it as you didn't wanna lose him nor make him uncomfortable in any way. You asked him for help on how maybe you could combat with your clingy behavior and he offered to give you one of his hoodies so you always had something of his to distract the urge of wanting to go find him and cling onto him.

Soon, He started to see a change in you. You made new friends and started to pick up a hobby. He would sometimes catch you wearing his hoodie to school and it warmed his heart as he saw you put in effort to change.

Of course he did adore when you were clingy whenever you hug out but you always made sure to give him his own personal space towards the end of your hangouts.

[bubbasbubblebutt]

Shoutout to the sexy bitches who are unhealthy attatched to an obscure video game man that no one in the fandom you're in cares about. I see you and I love you

[astral-disastral-catastral]

Headcanon Time!!!!

✧ He has multiple extra limbs and organs excluding eyes [.e.g. 3 arms and 3 hands, 3 hearts, 2 brains 1 extra layer of dough which the average cookie does not have that he doesn't always display] which are all functional! He likes to scare others with it.

✧ His bones don't have nearly as much sugar as most cookies [what makes cookie bones hard and sturdy] so he's concerningly flexible hence all the 90° head cocking and odd bodily positions aswell as being hypermobile [but it doesn't often cause him pain]. Funfact: he could turn his head 360° if he wanted to.

✧ When he falls asleep, the eyes on his head are closed like his actual eyes so they look like they're not there.

✧ Has a habit of biting other cookies near him that he finds hard to control/stop doing.

✧ Has purposefully eaten more than 1 cookie and very much derived joy from doing so [he thought they tasted good. Or atleast some of them did… he just killed the ones he didn't like or used them for something else].

✧ If you were to chop off any of his limbs, .e.g. his arms or legs or hands, they would regenerate quickly or he would just re-attatch them and say something like “ow” very nonchalantly.

✧ Regularly shapeshifts into things that aren't him .e.g. animals and other cookies like the ancients [mainly PV] for the fun of it, if he's bored, or to taunt and trick others.

✧ The weird looking sonic’s quills on his head is a hat!! His actual hair is light blue and white, flows majestically, is long enough to touch the ground if he decides to stop floating around all the time for once, and is very liquidy but doesn't feel wet at all [it's more soft and fluffy and smooth to the touch if anything…]. He doesn't like his hair that way and is insecure about it and it makes him angrier than he wishes to be so he always keeps his hat on. Or is it a wig or something??

✧ Is extremely touchy with PV and absolutely does not give a care in the world about boundaries. Refuses to leave him alone 80% of the time [he legit always less than 30cm away from him].

✧ The sorest loser in the world he WILL throw a fit if he cannot win something and will go out of his way to win no matter what, whether it's cheating, killing, you name it!

✧ For any cookie that isn't a beast or unconventionally massive, he's practically a giant but out of all the beasts, he's the shortest one.

✧ Sprawls out the most uncalled unwanted unnecessary unasked unfiltered comments whenever and wherever blatantly [sometimes he does it intentionally and sometimes he doesn't even get it's the wrong time or wrong at all].

✧ Really likes puppets [like a lot oh my lord]

↑ Has possessed/controlled PV various times on various occasions and has no regrets doing so.

✧ Mythomania/Pseudologia Fantastica.

✧ Enjoys drawing, scribbling, doodling and the taste/smell of crayons [regularly uses them].

✧ Acts like a 5 year old having a sugar rush 90% of the time and complains non-stop if he becomes bored and will do too much to find something to entertain himself to no longer be bored, whatever that may be…

✧ Funfact: i love him to an unhealthy extent he's my son i love him oh my god my gallery of him is almost at 2000+ images.

✧ Has weird patterns all over his body [it's a part of his dough and he cannot get rid of it anymore].

✧ His hair is completely sentient for some strange reason [he could move individual strands if he wanted to like they're extra arms and hands].

✧ Can probably play the Accordion perfectly [referencing circus of shadows…]