#but like. she was romantically entangled w all three of them. she didn’t ever date bolin properly but ykwim

[jjkyaoi]

how different the atla main group and the lok main group are is Still the funniest thing in the world to me. like, the gaang are real sweet best friends, would die for each other and kill for each other, probably, a sprinkle of found family, friendships CAN last more than one lifetime, etc. and then korra has dated literally all of her three best friends. everyone in that group wanted a piece of the avatar’s ass

[heartbreakgrill]

Circles; Harry Styles, Pt. 3

A a/n: i want you to feel like this story is hazy and going fast because your romantic endeavours in this story are flying by. Hope your heart hurts xx

The next two weeks passed by in a lovesick swirl of chocolate muffins, car rides to beaches too-cold to enjoy, star gazing and coffee flavored lipstick stains, picnic basket park dates, and one memorable sleepover at your house. It was ecstasy, pure bliss, falling asleep in strong arms, curls drawing goosebumps from bruised collarbones and fingers daintily tracing tattoos over and under t-shirts. A red crew neck, smelling of Cashmere and Vanilla, embraced you during the night and rare mornings when you were apart. You found stray hairs, curls fallen from his scalp, entangled in your bedsheets and trampoline. You liked his skin, the soft and weak stretches over his biceps, cheeks, lips. His hands were soft, too, big and veiny all the way to the inside of his elbow. But, there were callouses. He was being taught guitar, he told you, held you in his arms and demonstrated a c string across your belly button and forearm.

Nothing progressed past sedated kissing, but warm skin flushed under bedsheets was a habit you adopted after that sleepover. You had asked him to stay after he dropped you off from another night of stargazing. He didn’t hesitate to text his mum goodnight and followed you inside. Your older brother, who sometimes stayed here, had a few old clothes in his room. Harry wore his sweatpants and insisted on taking your school hoodie.

“Okay,” you reluctantly handed the piece of discarded laundry before picking up a few other things on the floor. You looked up as he took off his dress shirt and tugged on yours. It was too big for you, but fit pretty well on him. You grinned at his beautiful stature and stood.

Harry met you halfway and pressed a light kiss to your forehead. “Smells like you. Might take it with me when i leave.”

Your heart sinks lightly, but when his hands embraced your hips, you were squeezed back together. You touched his cheek, his shoulder, “That’s fine with me.” After a moment of pure eye contact, you blushed and tugged away. “‘M gonna get ready for bed.”

Harry plopped down into your comforter, already used to your room because of afternoon naps and brunch-in-bed two days prior. (He had contacted your mother that morning and she helped him prepare your favorite meal.) He flicked on the television and scrolled Netflix for a movie while you washed your face, brushed your teeth, and changed from your skirt and shirt to sleep shorts and that red crew neck. You shut off the light in the bathroom and the one in your room as you entered.

Harry glanced away from the tv and grinned cheekily. You crawled in beside him, molding yourself into his side. He wrapped an arm around you and nuzzled his head against your forehead, your own diving into his neck where you kissed him sloppily. “You look pretty.”

You grunted, “Sure.”

Harry picked a romantic comedy before holding you with both arms. He pulled back slightly to see your face, but didn’t speak. You met his eyes, not surprised he was staring at you. One of your hands raked through his curls, cradling his head in your hands.

“What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” You whispered against his lips.

He molded his lips against you, pressing himself on top of you. You held onto his neck as the tug of war of tongue, teeth, and tiny gasps slipped through ever-swelling lips. He was on top of you now, one of your legs tangling around his, one of his hands squeezing your waist, falling deeper inside. You tugged at his- your-sweatshirt and over his head. It flew across the room, your cold fingertips coming in contact with his warm skin. You were still in awe of his tattoos after every glance, eyes staying open once he took your shirt. It calmed down from here, laying chest to back with fingers intertwined across your stomach. He traced the hairs on your arms, kissing your cheeks and temple and the back of your neck.

“Is that all you were thinking of?” You squeaked, knowing where this conversation would lead.

“No,” he mumbled, settling his head on your pillow.

Your throat felt constricted, tears welling up, but not quite in your eyes. “W-What?”

“We dont have to talk about it,” he shrugged.

You turned in his arms, slinging an arm around his waist. “Harry, we’re both leaving in three days. I think we need to talk about what’s going to happen.”

“I just like the narrative that’s playing out right now,” he quirked a sad smile, caressing your cheek and catching a few tears.

“Please, can we talk about it?” You bit your lip to suppress your choking sadness. “Please?”

His eyes closed, and his head hung though he was laying down. “I dont want to.”

You pulled yourself from his grasp, sitting up. You leaned your back against the bed frame, feeling him shift up as you cradled your own head in your hands. “Harry... were going to talk about it. Now. We’ve been dancing around it since we kissed. I know it.”

“[Y/N],” his voice broke slightly, and he wrapped himself around you, “I’m scared.”

“I am, too,” you looked up at him. You took his face and wiped his tears as they fell. His lip trembled, and you pulled at with your thumb. Your heart felt sore. “Harry, please dont leave me. Please dont go off and forget me, please.”

He shook his head, “I never ever could. I want to know you for the rest of my life, [Y/N]. I really, truly do. I want to fall completely in love with you and have stupid arguments over tour and school. I want to show you the world and see yours. I want to be there when you graduate and i want you to see a show or twenty. I want to be in your life.”

“I could enjoy that.”

Neither of you could say you loved each other. You were too afraid that the words would hit the air and a monster of distance and ignorance would tear them apart before they could be recited. Besides, common sense knew better to let you fall so fast. You had gotten to know each other well, but you were holding back the darkest parts, the wildest dreams you thought of at 3 am and in fields of daisies. As if he knew what you were thinking, Harry kissed you.

The sound of lips pulling apart resounded through your room, Adam Sandler laughing on the television, soft and far away. You let him pull you into him and spoke again when you could hear his heartbeat. “What are we going to do?”

“Tour ends in four months. So does school, yeah?” He spoke softly, though it was loud in your ears. You nodded and he continued, “We’ll spend the summer together. We can stay here or travel or even both.”

“And after that?” You hoped.

He sighed, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

You knew he didn’t mean you wouldn’t last: But your hearts had barely been soaring for two weeks now. There was no telling if you would even make it past the airport in three days. You would just have to wait and see.

And so, three days later, you woke early in the morning to pack your things. You said goodbye to your parents over a small breakfast and met Harry at the bakery. You sat at your table, only he sat across from you. Either of you were silent, eating your muffin and hot chocolate with sad smiles. You said your goodbyes to the girls and went to leave when Sharon held you back.

“Love,” she took your hands, squeezing them tightly, “dont let him go. Please hold on. It’ll be hard, and you’ll be scared. But he is worth it. You are worth it. I can see it in your eyes. Its rare and it’s beautiful. Dont let those circles you used to run in repeat themselves. Make a straight path. Dont run after each other; run together.”

You hugged her before meeting Harry in the taxi out front. You wiped away your tears and let him hold you into his side. His flight was an hour after yours, but he wanted to be the one to walk you to your gate. Then, security, check-in, and finding a seat felt like a blur. Your hand stayed in his, gripping his fingers like he woul grow wings and fly away. You sat beside him, knee bouncing wildly, chewing on your lip, until your flight was called.

You felt stunned and couldn’t even remember the next few moments when they were over. He hugged you, kissed you, caressed and embraced and kissed and squeezed and brushed hair and tear tracks from your cheeks and reassured you that everything would be okay.

When you found your seat on the plane, you stared out the window and asked the clouds how someone could fall so fast. They couldn’t reply because they only ever knew planes too steady to fall. You felt vulnerable, like you had cracked open your chest and held your heart in your hands. You couldn’t understand why love was so strange, so quick to come and so quick to leave; why the world felt like time could judge a heart’s desire; why distance made the heart grow fonder when it made yours grow weaker; why you hadn’t told him that you loved him.

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