#grapes harry? seriously?

[welcometothemaraudersspam]

valentine ~ h.s

i listened to valentine by laufey while writing this. and i highly recommend you do as well. this got me all in my feels and i hope it does the same for you <3

i've rejected affection for years

and years

"you absolutely amaze me. you can't just do that to people, y/n"

"and why not? it's my life- and last i checked i could do whatever the hell i wanted." you retorted back at your best friend who was shaking her head at you. you were spending your day off of work with one of your closest friends, secretly trying to make her head explode with your mind from all of her cristisim. your feet dangling on the back of the couch swiping through your phone, popping another grape into your mouth.

the tall girl was getting onto you for rejecting a guy who had been pining over you since you were 15. you guys had been playfully flirting with one another for some time, but you personally didn't take him seriously up until last year.

the two of you had gone on a couple dates, and while he thought things were going great, you just couldn't see yourself with him. hence the beginnings of this conversation because she had just found out that you had flat out stopped responding to the guy after he had said something that had irked you the week before.

"he's literally perfect for you! he's got the same sense of humor as you. he loves being outside. AND he wants kids."

"honey, i know you're trying to be helpful, but it's not that simple. i tried. i really did, but i couldn't. i just know when things click. i can feel them falling into place. but we were just a little too similar. we were butting heads, even this early into the relationship. he was hardheaded, so am i," sighing as you threw your phone down on the floor, your fluffy rug cushioning its fall. bringing yourself to get off the comfort of your sofa. padding into the kitchen, while speaking over your shoulder as you refilled your bowl with more snacks. "i'm indecisive, and so is he. the entire car ride would be spent with us saying 'oh i don't mind' 'whatever you want' 'it's up to you'. it drove me INSANE. and i figured he would finally get the message. hey! I really don't like you, and maybe next time think about what you're saying before telling me you were expecting something different with me. stupid asshole..."

"i think it's just cause you're picky. you guys would have made cute babies,"

"if you like him so much, then why don't you date him?" the slight jab made her throw her pillow at you, a loud laugh leaving your lips. grabbing the biggest cube of cheese you could find on your bowl, chunking it at her face a cackle leaving the both of you guys' lips.

now i have, and damn it

its kind of weird

"hey, honey..." the sound of your nickname rolling off your boys tongue made you smile softly, turning to face the brunette whose face was currently smushed against the sofa. you eyed his sleepy frame, feeling your heart melt as you saw all of his bouncy curls sticking out from his headband. "i miss you."

a soft scoff left your lips, quirking an eyebrow up at him. you set down your batter covered spoon, crossing your arms across your chest feigning annoyance. harry had just woken up from a nap, his eyes still puffy. he just kept on smiling up at you, your facade crumbling with every second you spent looking at his face. shaking your head at the boy, strands of your hair falling onto your forehead.

"you're crazy, h."

"crazy for you." it was almost laughable how quickly that boy was able to respond to your comments with cheesy lines. even after a year, he still treated you exactly like he had in the early weeks of your relationship. taking it upon himself to woo you every chance he got.

you tossed the rag you had used to wipe off cookie dough from your arms, the dark red fabric plopping on his head of curls. "mmm. those cookies smell delicious, honey…red velvet?"

"your favorite." making your way over to harry, running your arms over his as you wrapped them around him. swatting the rag off his head, his green eyes popping out from behind the rag a playful glint in them. he adjusted his position to where he was sitting up, trying to drag you closer to him. "h, baby, i'm trying not to burn cookies over here."

"the quicker you get over here the quicker you get back to the cookies," he teased, his voice still raspy from having woken up. you allowed the brunette to tug you onto his lap, your knees on either side of his waist nearly melting into him due to how warm and cozy he was. his hands quickly finding their place on the small of your back, his thumbs rubbing over the exposed skin a small shiver made its way up your spine.

"you know- i feel like you do this on purpose. you get all nice and comfy, so whenever you wanna cuddle me you just pull me in; knowing damn well i can't resist you. and next thing you know, i'll never want to leave."

"that's the plan, lovey." a small flutter made its way to your chest, blush dusting your cheeks as you nuzzled into his face pressing a soft kiss onto his forehead. harry let out a noise of appreciation, nudging your nose with his as he tugged you closer. "your mouth smells like chocolate... were you eating the batter?"

"shut it,"

he tells me i'm pretty

don't know how to respond

bright. so damn bright. a soft whine left your lips as you attempted to twist away from the sunlight burning your eyelids. after spending a couple minutes of trying to ignore the bright white light, you decided to make a better use of your day and attempting to get up. your bleary eyes making eye contact with an inked chest, stiffening slightly. a small sound left your lips, as you rubbed your eyes to see if it was truly real life or if it was just a dream.

"pretty girl... did i wake you?" a soft flutter erupted in your stomach, smiling sleepily at his choice of words. he wrapped his arm around your frame, tugging you close to him laying your head on his chest. a soft whine left your lips as you nuzzled further into his warmth, allowing your legs to entwine with his. "still sleepy?"

"mhmm... so warm."

"then go back to bed, pretty girl." the sound of his morning voice, and with your head on his chest made him sound so good. so unreal. it was heavenly. you lifted your head up just to press a soft kiss on his startled lips, a chuckle leaving the brunette. you locked eyes with his bright green ones, wanting nothing more than to just spend all day staring at him.

"you're so pretty..." the brightest shade of pink dusted your cheeks, shying away from his stare. he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss onto your face.

i tell him that he's pretty too

can i say that?i don't have a clue

it truly didn't matter how many times your eyes looked onto that man, you were absolutely breath taken every time. he was gorgeous. absolutely beautiful. every tiny little scar, and the dark ink coating his toned skin. slowly lifting your hand up to trail it over the exposed skin. you traced the outline of every tattoo you could get your hands on, leaving featherlike kisses on his chest after you had finished a tattoo.

harry had told you many times about how insecure he got at times, especially after being on tour and most of his outfits being quite tight on him. so if he did have something he wasn't happy with, he knew his fans would end up capturing it from every possible angle.

but you couldn't see it.

you just couldn't.

he always told you about how sometimes his hair annoyed him because it never wanted to style just how he wanted it. his curls were always sticking out, every which way. he didn't like the little wrinkles by his eyes, that showed that he wasn't as young as he was whenever he first started. but you loved every inch of that man.

you made it your mission to shower that man in as much love and endless compliments, knowing it not only made him feel good but you would be able to see his cheeks flare up a bright red.

which was huge plus in your book.

one things you did every once in a while whenever you felt he was a little down; press a chaste kiss on his forehead, down to his left cheek, and then to his right, and then a nibble on his nose. if he hadn't already interrupted your nibble with his own lips, you would press a much awaited kiss onto his awaiting ones.

with every passing moment, i surprise myself

im scared of flies

im scared of guys

someone please help

"you have to get your shit together,"

"you think i'm not trying? i'm fucking terrified..."

"of what..?"

"of falling in love. i'm scared to let myself fall in love, cause i know the second i let that wall fall down he's gonna leave."

"you can't think like this-”

"i know! trust me i know. i just can't stop... every single person that i've dated, has always broken my heart like this. its only whenever i allow myself to relax, that's when they do it." your voice wavered at the end of that statement, tugging at the loose hairs that were falling out of your bun. your best friend was currently trying to get you to calm down, her worried eyes scanning your distressed figure.

you and harry's 1 year anniversary was coming up, right after valentines day and you were absolutely stressed. everything felt too good.

a little too good.

you were scared shitless. you felt like everything in the relationship was great. amazing, even. but you couldn't stop your anxiety from being at an all time high. harry had been a little distance, not incredibly, but enough for you to be stressed.

"he could just be busy, hon."

"he always tells me whenever he's busy. i just- what if i did something wrong?" she pursed her lips as she eyed you, her demeanor softening as she was realizing how worked up this was getting you. she wrapped her arm around you, allowing you to lay your head against her. "i'm sorry i get like this."

"no need to apologize. we just need to work on your fight or flight mode. and hopefully turn the flight off of auto."

"it's not my fault-"

"i know, sweets. but you can't just prepare for the worst whenever you get the slightest thought that he could be 'leaving'."

"i know... i'm just so scared of getting my heart broken, that my defense mechanism goes a little haywire."

cause i think i've fallen in love this time

i blinked, and suddenly i had a valentine

the sound of something crashing behind you made you jump, hastily turning around in fear of what the sound was. a groan leaving your lips as you realized your basket had fallen over.

you were in the middle of trying to build your boyfriend a gift for valentine's day, and things were going pretty good. well. they were.

you had taken it upon yourself to make him a goody basket with all of his favorite things; some throws for his house, a couple of his favorite brand of candles, his favorite sweets, and even a little crochet cow that you had made yourself as a spur in the moment decision. all you needed to do was throw them in the basket in an organized manner.

as a spontaneous decision you wanted to tie some balloons on the back of the basket; awful choice truly. for some reason you weren't thinking about using something to weigh down the basket before attaching the balloons, and next thing you knew the basket was laying sideways in a puddle of paint.

"you've got to be kidding me," you uttered some curse words, hurrying to grab some paper towels from the kitchen and trying to wipe the red blob of paint on the front of the basket. to no avail.

"everything okay in there, lovey?" the sound of harry's voice made you stiffen, halting your hurried movements. you scrambled to chuck the basket into the empty coat closet, struggling to get the balloons to cooperate with the door. you could give two shits about the paint getting on your clothes, successfully getting the door to shut.

the sound of harry making his way down the stairs made you jump into hyper speed, hastily grabbing a half done project of yours and plopping some of the bright paint on it and smearing it around with your hands to make it look like you were doing something. harry stopped as he spotted you sitting criss-cross on the floor, a smile making its way onto his face once he realized the mess you had made on yourself.

"lovey... you do know the paint goes on the canvas, right?"

"jesus, honey you scared me. and for your information, yes i do. the paint just doesn't like to stay on the canvas." you pouted, looking up at your boyfriend who was dressed in nothing but a pair of black sweatpants. you offered the brunette a paintbrush, a cheeky smile sported on your face. "wanna join? i can't make any promises that the paint won't get on you."

what if he's the last one i kiss?

a soft gasp left your lips. a small chuckle left harry, his face buried against your neck as he covered every inch of your neck in wet kisses. your hands buried themselves in his curls, tugging softly.

"lovey..." the warning tone in his voice made you giggle, allowing your thoughts to encourage him. tug. "don't tell me that i didn't warn you,"

a loud squeal left your lips as he hoisted you into the air. his hands finding their place on your waist your legs wrapping around his waist as he made his way towards your made bed.

what if he's the only one i'll ever miss?

"i don't want to go on tour,"

"then don't" you bluntly stated, a small smile tugging at your lips. harry just shook his head at you, chuckling at your statement. the brunette was currently packing all of his belongings from his closet that he had wanted to bring with him on tour, stuffing the last of his toiletries in a small bag.

"you know its not that easy-"

"i know, h. i'm just joking"

"but i wish you weren't... i don't want to have to miss you." he mumbled, running his fingers over the exposed skin on your torso.

today was the last day before he went back on tour, one of his biggest yet. while he was excited, the thought of leaving you behind still made him want to second guess himself. he was choosing today to take advantage of seeing you.

spent the morning cooking you breakfast, bringing it to you in bed where the pair of you cuddled and ate some delicious pancakes. and for lunch he insisted on cooking some pasta for the two of you to share, which was delicious.

and now as the sun was hiding behind the horizon, streams of purple, pink and orange coating half of the sky. you guys were in your favorite lounge chair, with his head on your lap watching the sun go down. your hands were running through his locks wanting to remember every second of this.

his lips.

his smile.

his dimples.

and even just his scent.

maybe i should run, im only 21

i don't even know who i want to become

"i feel like i don't have my life together, whatsoever. all i do is paint, and substitute teach like a couple times a week..i'm not doing what i wish i was doing. i just feel like i'm back in high school again. trying to kill time by picking up a job so i could at least make money and be bored."

"honey, if you're not happy, then why don't you just go out and try to find a job in what you like doing." harry's words sounded muffled over the phone, but the message was still clear. you nibbled on your bottom lip deep in thought as you were looking at your last paystub.

"it's not that, h. i just don't want to be a burden for you-"

i've lost all control of my heartbeat now

got caught in a romance with him somehow

i still feel a shock through every bone

when i hear an 'i love you'

cause now i got someone to lose

breath.

god damn it say it back.

stop looking at him like a fucking guppy.

"i love you too." a soft voice emitted from the tip of your mouth, feeling a warm sensation course through your body. you hadn't even noticed that your eyes had watered until a tear escaped and made its way down your cheek. harry's face lit up, bringing you by wrapping his arms around your waist. the warmth of your bodies pressed up against each other made the room 10x hotter, wanting nothing more than to remove your puffer jacket and toss it across the room. the second your lips touched, you felt a small shock. like electricity making its way through every little vein in your body. allowing yourself to melt into his embrace.

that was the first time he had ever uttered those words and dear god if those were the most holy words you had ever heard in your life.

"i love you so much." harry mumbled those words onto your lips, his breath fanning your face feeling your knees buckled slightly as he tightened his grip on you. "are you glad i didn't say it months into us getting together?"

"i would have done it the first day if you let me," you teased, a rumble of laughter coming from harry who threw his head back in laughter. you joined in on his teasing, knocking into his shoulder. even though this moment was everything you could have ever hoped for and more.

there was the tiniest little voice whispering to you that harry could leave you at any second, and absolutely destroy you.

the first one to ever like me back

i'm seconds away from a heart attack

how the hell did i fall in love this time?

and honestly, i can't believe i get to call you mine

i blinked and suddenly

today was valentine's day, or as you liked to call it; one long ass anniversary day. you guys had officially been dating for over 3 years now, the best three years of your life. nevertheless, you were still terrified to see how harry would react to the gift you had made him.

that was your whole thing.

you love giving gifts.

absolutely loved it.

but you also took gifts incredibly serious. you just want everything to be perfect.

"before we went to dinner, i wanted to give you your gift. if you're okay with that." he chuckled, knowing you had been begging to shower him in gifts since you had woken up. but he wouldn't let you. he wanted to wait until after you guys had dinner.

you practically jumped into the air, almost breaking your ankle from your shoes. he just smiled at your newfound energy, practically vibrating from excitement.

"can i give you mine first?"

"absolutely you can, lovey."

after he had finished the first word you spun on your heels and made a break towards the couch. you would pay money to see what his expression looked him, as you proceeded to toss the cushions to the floor making small signs of approval as you found exactly what you were looking for. a small book; a beautiful leather cover that you had engraved yourself. h's initials were at the bottom of the spine. along with the title of the book; valentine.

"what in the world did you hide in the couch-"

his words were cut off by you spinning around with a nervous smile, showing the book to him. you felt like a toddler whenever they hold up something to their parents, a cheesy grin on their features. harry took the book from your hands as tenderly as he could, his fingers running over the intricate detail on the cover.

"love... wow. this is- this is beautiful. where in the hell did you find this?"

"i-i made it. i started working on it a couple months ago... i know how you're always trying to find new things to read. and to find inspiration for your songs. so i wrote you a book."

"you wrote me a book?!" the flabbergasted look on his face made you giggle. you went around the other side of the book so you could show him, turning the cover over so he could see that you had written it by hand. you had practiced over and over to make sure you didn't mess up the ink on the paper, or to ensure that you didn't misspell anything. "honey... i... my gift is gonna look like rubbish compared to this-this is amazing. this is the sweetest thing anybody has ever done for me. thank you so much, i love you so much"

"oh hush. and of course honey, it’s no biggie... i love you most,"

"well... i- i don't even know how to follow that up." you giggled at what he said, pressing a soft kiss onto his cheek. his eyes were doe eyed as he stared at your face in complete adoration. you noticed a small movement from his hand, flickering down to a small box he had in his left hand. "y/n... i love you so much. you have been one of the best constants in my life. i've never been this happy; ever. seeing your face every morning when i wake up just further proves my point. i know that you're the last person i ever want to miss. the last person i want to have to kiss. you have made me into a better person. you taught me patience, and learning how not to take things for granted... and i really can't imagine being able to see you walk down the isle with anyone other than me."

"harry..."

he took that as his cue to drop down on one knee, his eyes brimming with tears. a small sob left your lips, drawing your shaking hands up to your mouth. he propped the box open, your eyes falling on the prettiest and daintiest ring you had ever seen in your life.

this can't be real.

"will you please... make me the happiest person on this planet- no... in existence and do me the honor of spending the rest of your life with me?"

breath.

a second passed by.

"i-what- of course! yes. yes! a million times yes!" you struggled to choke out, throwing your arms around the brunette who just let out a small cry as he held you tightly against his chest. he struggled to get the ring on with both of your hands trembling, small laughs leaving both of your tear stained lips.

and at that moment... your mind was silent.

there was no little voice.

no anxiety.

no second thoughts.

you knew. you knew that this is exactly as it should be.

i had a valentine

a/n: ahhhh! i haven’t written about the loml in forever, so please lemme know if you have any feedback. my requests are also open! feel free to spam me. thank you lovelies 🫶🏼

[annabellewynter]

Hi! I'm new to Writerblr and excited to be here.

The name I go by is Annabelle Wynter.

I am a married female in my 40s.

I have two kiddos that keep me busy and an adorable pup named Beast that loves to snuggle. Here's my buddy.

I love to read every genre! There really isn't one I don't like, it mostly just depends on my mood.

Some of my favorite books are Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Stephanie Plum novels, Court of Thorns and Roses, Bridgerton Series, Grapes of Wrath, I'm seriously all over the place.

I am the same way with television and love Schitts Creek, true crime documentaries, Sons of Anarchy, Vikings, and cheesy reality TV.

My daughters are really into WWE and I love Rhea Ripley and Becky Lynch.

I also write in several genres and currently have two WIP.

The first is a novel that's in its second draft. I'm working on additional changes and will be sharing them on this platform as well as Wattpad. It's a romantic mystery called Surving Karma.

The second WIP is a Regency Romance called Wild Lavender. I have posted the first chapter on here and Wattpad. Summaries are below the cut.

I would LOVE to read some of my fellow writerblrs, so please Tag me to check out your work.

My DMs are open and I love making friends.

Happy writing/reading!

Karma, the universe's funny little way of keeping a tally on each of us and making sure that before the end, it all evens out.

I believe in Karma. And that is why I have spent the past five years working my ass off to try to add some good juju to my scorecard. The first twenty-something years? Well, let's be honest, I have some serious marks against me; and that's just what I can remember!

My name is Collins Alexander, and I'm a recovering alcoholic.

Five years ago, I hit my bottom in a serendipitous fall from grace that landed me a month in rehab, an end to my law career and an eviction from my high rise apartment in the Chicago loop.

Now I'm trying to offset my negative balance with Karma by devoting my life to helping other addicts in a state run rehab. And things were going pretty well too, until the handsome District Attorney, Keaton Donnelly showed up with a picture of my former defendant, missing a few appendages and news that I was next.

And if that wasn't bad enough, they assigned an undercover agent to assist. His name is Derek Nowak and he's got intel on the Chicago gang scene and a smile known for dropping panties all over the Midwest. This is doing nothing to help my mind stay focused on keeping all my appendages intact.

So here I am, in my black bootie Louboutins, a final remnant of my prior life, holding a steaming cup of black coffee and running like hell.

Cause Karma is nasty bitch, and she's coming to settle a score.

Summary: Everett Greenwood never expected to be the Duke of Rorchester, that was a job for his older brother. But when sudden tragedy strikes, he finds himself thrust into a life he never wanted. Then he sees Melina delivering honey to the grand hall. The girl who lives in a shack in the woods becomes the only love his heart has ever known, but can society accept the simple woman as his choice? And will secrets from her past destroy their chance at love? Find out in Wild Lavender.

[anticomedygarden]

i know what i'm needing, and i don't want to waste more time

-

title from billy joel's 'new york state of mind'

slight nsfw, barely passing a teen rating honestly

-

Harry’s head whipped around when a flash of golden movement caught his eye, then sighed when he realized it was just another Gryffindor holding up a sign and not, in fact, the snitch, which had been noticeably absent ever since Madam Hooch had called the start of the game three hours earlier. 

Yes. Three hours. With no snitch. It was really starting to get suspicious.

“Potter!” 

Harry turned toward the sound of his name, ready to tell whichever one of his teammates who was about to whine that he hadn’t ended the game, that he hadn’t seen the damn thing yet but instead found himself face to face with Draco Malfoy. 

“What do you want, Malfoy?” 

Draco sneered but answered. “Have you seen the snitch yet?” 

Harry shook his head. “I’m starting to think Hooch forgot to release it.”

“But we all watched her,” Malfoy said. He scratched his neck. “I’m starving.”

“Oi! Potter! Stop fraternizing with the enemy!” Angelina yelled as she raced by them, quaffle in her hand. “And catch the damn snitch while we’re ahead!”

Harry laughed. “You know what? I could use a break.”

-

That was how the two of them found themselves on the roof of one of the spectator’s stands, brooms set aside and a plate of sandwiches between them. 

“This is nice,” Harry said around a mouthful of bread. 

Draco answered with a glare. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, you heathen.”

Harry ignored him and continued to look out across the pitch only to see a quick flash of gold-white flitzing around near the Gryffindor goalposts. He pointed. “Hey, there it is, finally.”

“Nice of it to show up,” Draco responded, though Harry would swear he heard a twinge of disappointment in his voice. 

He took another bite of his sandwich. “It can wait.” 

-

It happened again at the next Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match. They watched Hooch release the quaffle, bludgers, and the snitch, and then didn’t see the little gold ball again for another four hours. This time, they had apples and grapes in the same spot above the seats, and Draco caught the little gold ball after a grueling battle between the scarlet and green seekers. 

Then it happened again. Four hours of no snitch until Harry spotted it by the Slytherin goalposts, but only after he and Draco had a delightful little lunch in what he had come to think of as their spot. 

Then it happened between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Draco was waiting at their spot with food. 

Then Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. Fred and George had declared they would bring their own food to the next game. Ron said he would take Felix Felicis for real if it meant a less than four hour match. 

Then Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff again. Angelina was beside herself. 

Every time, Draco was waiting at their spot with food. What the fuck. 

The next match, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin again, was the last straw. They waited for the snitch for six hours before Harry finally snapped. 

“All right, where is it? I know it’s you that’s doing this,” he said, getting up off of the rough blue shingles and brushing off his red robes. 

Malfoy, the bastard, just smirked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Malfoy, it’s not funny anymore. I’m hot and tired.” He sounded whiny even to his own ears, but seriously. Six hours. In May. He was done. 

“Oh, you’re hot, are you?” Draco said, biting his lip. There was a suspicious gleam in his grey eyes. 

“Are you flirting? Do we do that now?” Harry asked, disbelieving. 

“Do you want to do that now?” 

A shout stopped him from answering, thank god. “Potter!” came Angelina’s voice from somewhere up above. “Catch the fucking snitch!”

Harry turned back to Draco, but he was already muttering some spell and jumping on his broom, rushing for a tiny flash of gold all the way across the pitch near the professors’ stand. Harry grabbed his broom and raced after him. 

He was too late. Within seconds, Malfoy had the snitch clutched in his long, graceful fingers up above his head, and the crowd, threadbare from heat and restlessness, gave an unenthusiastic cry, sluggishly moving toward the steps back down to the grounds. 

There was no immediate announcement of the winning team as Lee Jordan had left ages ago, but before long McGonagall was saying, “Congratulations to the Slytherin team for a 450-230 win. There is cold water in the Great Hall, and Madam Pomfrey is ready in the infirmary for anyone suffering from heat exhaustion.”

Harry started to turn his broom down to the ground to meet the rest of his team, but a hand-Draco’s hand-on his broom stopped him. 

He met the other boy’s grey eyes. “Meet me in the Room of Requirement at midnight.”

-

Who was he to deny a spoiled pureblood Slytherin that had never shown him anything but malice? He went to the fucking Room of Requirement at midnight. 

Thank god the whole dorm was passed out cold after that quidditch match, but Harry was far too wired. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what Draco wanted with him. Maybe to threaten him not to tell anyone about the whole snitch thing, though what could Harry say, anyway? “I think Malfoy, the boy who hates me, has been bewitching the famously unbewitchable flying object so he can spend time with me.” 

Yeah, no. It had to be something else. 

Eventually, he made it to the Room of Requirement and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak to see that he was standing in the middle of what seemed to be a library with stacks upon stacks of books. “Malfoy?” he said tentatively. 

At first, there wasn’t an answer, and Harry feared that Malfoy had lured him there to kill him, or worse, that he had been stood up. Then, from the back of the room: “Potter.”

Harry started walking toward Draco’s voice, dodging bookcases until he came upon a little study area, complete with two tall chairs standing around an equally tall table laden with food. 

“What the hell is this?” Harry said, perhaps a bit too hotly. 

Malfoy didn’t even blink. “I think we both know what it is.” 

He really, really didn’t. 

Malfoy sighed. “C’mon, Potter, don’t make me say it.”

Harry just looked at him, barely comprehending what this apparently was. 

Draco groaned. “Merlin, Potter, I’m in love with you! I hate it, but I am. And you are, too.”

“You can’t just announce that and expect it to be true,” Harry said immediately. Nevertheless, his frozen brain was starting to work again, and he couldn’t deny the ache in his chest or the heat in his gut. 

He stepped forward. 

So did Draco. 

Then they both surged forward at the same time, crashing together in a messy embrace. Draco’s arm ended up hooked over Harry’s shoulder, and their lips nearly missed, but somehow, it was amazing. Magnificent. It tasted like fried chicken. 

“Did you start eating the food before I got here?” Harry said incredulously. 

Draco sucked in a hot breath against Harry’s neck. “You were late, Potter. What did you expect?”

He licked a crumb off of Draco’s bottom lip. “Impatient-” He kissed the bump in Dracos’ nose. “Spoiled-” He pulled Draco closer to whisper in his ear. “Brat.” He felt Draco’s knees knock into his own, and the ash-blond whimpered into Harry’s mouth. “I can’t believe you bewitched the snitch to spend time with me. You could have just asked.” 

If Draco had planned on responding, it was lost to the sound he made when Harry slid a hand up his shirt. 

They didn’t talk much after that. 

-

“Here we are back for another match between the lions and snakes, and I think we’re all just hoping this game ends before the sun ends it for us. Although, I have it on good authority that the seekers are fucking now-sorry, Professor!-anyways, Potter and Malfoy are together,-is that better, Professor? Yep, they’re dating, so rest assured, we should be done pretty quick, I’d say.”

[ange1ixie]

WELCOME TO MY PAGE! HI IM BELLA! TW!

about me!

age: 17

name: bella (bells)

mbti: infp

interests: kpop, harry potter, poetry, learning different languages, fashion

likes: music, dance, dressing up, performing, sleeping, dark chocolate, grapes, physical affection, women.

dislikes: men, fear foods (depends on the day), homophobes, racists, trolls, fatphobic ppl, ppl that take things too seriously, my dad, rcta.

hobbies: dancing (dance team and kpop), singing, reading, writing songs and poetry, learning korean, watching video essays (if u know some good ones lmk pls 🙏🏽🙏🏽)

poc - half black, half italian

bi (maybe idk at this point i just love girls)

non religious

favs atm: dominic fike, IVE, taylor swift, XG, LE SSEFERIM, gracie abrams

gw: 100 - 105 lbs (43 - 48 kg)

cw: 179 lbs (81 kg) :(

im not pro ana!!! stay safe loves, you're beautiful.

tw: ed, parent issues, sh, sa, maybe more but i'll put a tw!

dni if: pro ana, racist, homophobic, transphobic, or anything that is along the lines of not treating human beings with kindness!

looking for moots always!

#freepalistine

[bertievi]

@brassandblue continued from X

“There’s someone here to see you, Dr. Goodsir.”

His housekeeper had poked her head in, reluctant to disturb Harry--or get too close to him--as he was sat up in bed, propped on pillows and in a feverish state. He had half a dozen or so books scattered within reach on his bed, but at present he’d been enjoying a hot cup of tea and the gentle breeze from a nearby open window.

“Thank you, Mrs. Brixey. But I doubt they’d want to see me like this,” he added with a little smile. He was ruddy faced and his hair was tussled, and whenever he caught a glance of himself in his bureau mirror, he knew he looked as hollow-eyed and ill as he felt.

“Mm, well, yes indeed, Doctor, but--” she glanced away, down the hall and back again, lowering her voice. “--It’s His Majesty the King.”

Harry’s surprise triggered a coughing fit, which he dealt with by covering his mouth with the crook of his arm. When it subsided, he rested back against the pillows, winded and in pain. He wanted to be indignant and send Albert off, but he couldn’t just do that. With a congested sniff, he mustered up the strength to say: “Ah, sorry. Please see to our guests, then. Will you show him to my room, please?” A sheen of sweat had begun to appear on Harry’s forehead, and with a soft tsk Mrs. Brixey bravely stepped forward, took a wet cloth from a bowl at his bedside, and dabbed at his face to help ease the fever’s heat.

“Of course, Doctor. Shall I fetch one of your surgeon’s masks?”

He looked up at her, weary eyes very grateful. “You’re an angel.”

Mrs. Brixey beamed and patted Harry’s head--she had children his age and he found her bedside manner to be better than that of most of his colleagues. She promptly left and went to see to the King (and his entourage, if any) and put the kettle on for tea. She also fetched one of Harry’s masks from his study, which had started out as an exam room shortly following his return from the war, and graciously brought the King to Harry’s room.

Like a stern mother, despite being only slightly older than Albert himself, she would not let him in until Harry had put the thing on.

It was not in the habit of the royals to visit their sick staff, usually it was acknowledged with a fruit basket, a card wishing for a speedy recovery and they were left alone to recover without any expectation or drama. Albert had clearly thought otherwise on this occasion and hand delivered the fruit himself. Maybe they were out of cards at the palace? At least he obediently waited for Mrs Brixey’s cue to go in, giving her a polite and genuine thanks as he did so before he turned and saw Goodsir’s condition. 

A small frown of worry appeared but he quickly brought it back under control as he walked further into the room, carrying the fruit basket under one arm. “I -had not intended -to intrude like this, it is not easy -for me -to turn up anywhere unannounced but I felt I -had to see you.” He began seriously, “I -heard you were unwell and thought for once you might allow me -to return the -favour of -care in what ways I -can.” He lifted the basket filled with oranges, grapes, grapefruit, plumbs and bananas. Naturally arranged in as fancy a way as could be given where it had come from. “So I -took it upon myself -to check on you.”

He set the basket down within reach of Goodsir’s bed but not intrusively just in case. “How are you?” A question that did not really need an answer, he could see quite plainly that he was unwell but better ask the doctor himself in case he was coming up to the worst of it and needed help. Not that he thought Mrs Brixey would allow him to not take proper care of himself regardless, she seemed really rather attentive. 

[snortinglaughter]

Flowers and Antlers.

Part 1

“Why you fretting, mate?” Ron eyed him as he sipped his Butterbeer.

“I’m not.” Harry had kept his eyes on the door ever since they’d entered the Three Broomsticks. He’d overheard Neville saying he’d come with Malfoy; this was the perfect opportunity.

“Yes, you are. You have that look on your face, like when you were trying to ask Cho -”

Harry wasn’t even paying attention to Hermione’s words because at that exact moment Neville and Malfoy entered the place.

“Oi, Nev!” Harry called out.

They stopped in their tracks. Malfoy stiffened visibly when he realized who had called after his friend. He murmured something in Neville’s ear –a little too close, Harry found himself thinking– and walked away, searching for a table.

“Hey, Harry!” The boy smiled as he approached.

“Hi! Fancy joining us?”

“Oh, well, I’m actually here with Draco.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I- we actually thought you’d both like to join us.”

“We?” Ron managed to say before Hermione kicked him under the table.

“Um. Maybe some other time, mate. It’s not that he has anything against you lot, it’s just…” Neville looked over his shoulder to where Malfoy was waiting for him and sighed. “Some other time, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” Harry watched as Neville walked away.

“I may have missed part of a conversation during breakfast, mate, but since when do we want Malfoy to sit with us?”

“I just figured, you know, maybe it’s time for us to put our differences aside.” Harry shrugged. Ron looked utterly shocked by his response; Hermione just sat in silence studying him through narrow eyes as if Harry was a riddle that needed to be answered.

“Harry, you do realize this is Malfoy we’re talking about? The boy who’s made your life miserable since you first set foot in Hogwarts?” she said.

“I know, ‘Mione. But, don’t you notice something different about him? He’s not bullying first years anymore, not sneering at people left, right and center, not even making remarks about how my hair looks like a nest of pigeons with rabies.”

“Pigeons aren’t mammals, Harry; they can’t get rabies.”

“But what if, like, a dog with rabies bites a pigeon?”

“Harry, no. It’s not-“

“Forget about fucking pigeons, Hermione; Harry Potter is honest-to-Merlin trying to convince us that Draco sodding Malfoy is a good person now,” Ron whispered fiercely, looking around as if they were having the most embarrassing conversation and he was afraid someone might overhear the nasty details.

“Just think about it, mate. Malfoy befriended Neville Longbottom of all people; doesn’t that tell you something?” Harry froze for a second, realizing that yes, he was in fact defending Malfoy. Ron leaned over the table and looked deep into Harry’s eyes.

“No, he doesn’t look like he’s been Confunded.” He put a hand over his forehead. “No, he doesn’t have a fever.”

“Don’t be daft, Ron. I’m serious,” Harry said, slapping his friend’s hand away.

“Well, he is alone after all; none of his friends came back to sit their N.E.W.T.s,“ Hermione reasoned. “I suppose Nev sees something in him that we haven’t.”

“Yeah, that or Malfoy probably has him under the Imperius Curse,” Ron said grimly.

Harry felt a sudden twinge of annoyance at the suggestion and subtly reminded Ron about the Chudley Cannons’ latest defeat —that was enough to distract the red-head from anything— and discreetly glanced at Malfoy’s table every now and then while his friend kept talking about game tactics and statistics. Neville was laughing hard at something the blond was saying. It was still so strange to see them interact; Harry’s curiosity piqued as he wondered what they talked about. Was Neville aware of Malfoy’s nightly activities? If so, then he must know about the drawings.

"Harry?”

He’d spent more time than he wanted to admit guessing what the drawings might be; landscapes, maybe? Harry remembered an ugly painting of a bowl of weird-looking vegetables somewhere in the Dursleys’ house. Malfoy caught his gaze and Harry turned back to Hermione.

“Harry, are you even listening?”

“Yeah, about the Cannons,” he said.

“No, mate. About going to Honeydukes before heading back to the castle; I’m out of Cockroach Clusters. You sure you’re alright?” Ron looked sincerely worried about him, though Hermione was eyeing Malfoy with curiosity.

“Yeah. Perfectly fine. So, Honeydukes? Sure; I’m in the mood for some chocolate frogs,” Harry said quickly.

He could swear he felt someone’s eyes on him as they left.

Fire. Everywhere.

He couldn’t breathe; couldn’t see.

There was someone else inside, screaming. He had to help.

Harry’s eyes shot open; he sat up, breathing hard and wincing at the feeling of his sheets sticking to his back, and tried to blink the darkness away. He’d had nightmares about Fred and Lupin, about werewolves and Lavender, but never about the fire. He cast a cleaning charm on the bed, since it was soaking with sweat, and searched for another set of pajamas and a towel. The idea of staying in bed surrounded by dark curtains made him feel claustrophobic; a nice warm shower might help him relax. Harry had just exited the dorm, still thinking about his nightmare, when he crashed into something –no, someone– and fell on the floor.

“What - ” the other person whispered. The back of Harry’s eyes filled with tiny white stars.

“Sorry, mate, didn’t see you there.”

“Potter?”

Harry’s heart jumped and he tried blinking the blurriness away as he adjusted his eyeglasses.

“Malfoy?”

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” the blond responded resentfully.

“I didn’t say you were.” Harry noticed the sketchbook he’d seen in Scrivenshaft’s laying on the floor beside Malfoy, who immediately took it and stood up.

“I’d like to enter the dorm, if you don’t mind.”

Harry scrunched his brows together in confusion for ten full seconds before realizing he was still on the floor and blocking the door.

“Oh, right,” he said as he stood but didn’t step aside. “Listen, Malfoy, um. Don’t know if Neville mentioned but, er, next time you’re in Hogsmeade, you and Neville that is, if you’d like to sit with us at the Three Broomsticks we wouldn’t mind. If you want, of course; you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” Oh boy, he was rambling. “And, uh, I don’t think you’re doing something bad or anything, I mean I’ve noticed you’re not in bed sometimes. Wait, that didn’t sound – I’m not spying on you, I just -”

“Potter.” Thank Merlin Malfoy decided to interrupt; it couldn’t get more awkward than this. “I get it. I’d like to get some sleep now.”

“Right. I’ll just go shower; my bed’s all wet.” What?

“Oh.” Malfoy blinked. “That’s – alright. Goodnight, then.”

He finally stepped aside as Malfoy entered the room and looked back at Harry with curious eyes.

Harry quickly headed toward the boys’ restrooms. Merlin, what the bloody hell was that? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so embarrassed. And he’d been so close to the sketchbook; that confirmed his theory that Malfoy was sneaking away to draw. If he ever wanted to have a look he needed to get closer.

“My bed’s all wet,” he snorted. “Brilliant, Harry, fucking brilliant.”

They sat at the Ravenclaw table the next morning; Harry had a clear view of Malfoy and Neville and was thinking of a good excuse to approach them while the conversation flowed around him.

“Muggles claim it’s a forest fire but father is certain it’s a Heliopath,” Luna was saying. “I got an owl from him yesterday saying he was planning an excursion to find it.”

“That’s wonderful; I hope he’s careful, though.”

Harry frowned as he watched Malfoy peeling a bunch of white grapes with his wand.

“Oh, he’ll be fine; he’s probably taking a newt scale necklace to repel the fire.”

“How does that work?” Hermione asked, genuinely interested. She had decided to make an effort and try to understand Luna’s beliefs.

Malfoy was using his knife and fork to cut his grapes into halves.

“Newt scales have magical properties which intensify if you leave them in a bowl with water and African Sea Salt to rest under the full moon.”

Was Malfoy seriously plucking the seeds out of the grapes? How ridiculous; that was it. Harry stood and walked straight to the Slytherin table to stand beside him.

“Malfoy, what do you think you’re doing?” The blond looked up, confused for a moment.

“Having breakfast; what does it look like, Potter?”

“You’re using cutlery for grapes and you’re plucking the seeds out. Honestly?” Harry didn’t realize everyone at the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables were watching.

“Don’t forget the peeling part,” Neville murmured without taking his eyes off his pancakes.

“I peel them because the skin feels rubbery and it leaves a weird sensation on my tongue.” Malfoy said with his posh accent and raised a pointy eyebrow at his friend before turning back to Harry. “And I don’t like seeds in my grapes; they have a very unpleasant bitter taste. What did you expect me to do? Chew them?”

“You can spit them out?”

“That’s extremely impolite, Potter; have you no manners? Do you do the same with watermelon? Do you spit the seeds out and maybe keep score on which seed goes farthest?” Malfoy pressed his lips together; Harry was certain he was trying to suppress a smile.

“I don’t, but it might be fun, yeah?” He grinned; Malfoy blushed and rolled his eyes, though Harry didn’t see malice in the gesture.

“Definitely no manners, then.”

“People are watching, lads,” said Neville with a smile that resembled something like smugness.

Everyone in the Great Hall was staring, even McGonagall; her eyebrows had nearly reached her hairline. Neville gave him a funny look and realization dawned in Harry’s mind; he was having a polite discussion about grapes with Malfoy. It amazed him what he was willing to do to have a look at Malfoy’s drawings, but Harry had a plan and he was not backing up.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “You do your thing, then. I’ll- breakfast. Yeah.”

Harry turned back to his friends who were looking at him like he’d gone bananas and felt his face grow hot.

“What was that about, Harry?” Ron inquired as Harry took his seat and heard Dean snickering.

“I remember Seamus acting weird before we finally - ow!” Someone had obviously kicked him under the table and suddenly everyone seemed to be in a hurry.

“I forgot my DADA textbook, gotta go.” Ginny said as she stood.

“By the way, father wanted to know if you’d agree to a short interview for The Quibbler, Harry. Once he’s back from his excursion, of course.” Luna waved goodbye and took off after Ginny.

“Yeah, we have to go too.” Seamus pulled on Dean’s arm.

“Before you finally what?” Ron frowned; Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed.

Harry felt as flummoxed as his friend. Was he missing something?

Read more on Ao3

[saintqueer]

hiii what are your interpretations of what each song on harry’s house is about? not a full analysis but like just what topic each one is discussing

hiiiii this ask reminded me to answer the ranking ask lol so i could also answer this one. i'm gonna give a real brief very general answer for each, no analysis or reasoning just vibes

Sushi: domesticity and fluff, game nights and fun quality time with ones partner at home

LNT: long-distance facetime calls and being in love

Grape Juice: reminiscing with one's partner and the power of wine

As It Was: pain, losing oneself and finding oneself, unpacking trauma and the way that changes you

Daylight: being away from one's partner, missing them and being so obsessed with them that you aren't only cursing the distance but also the time difference

Little Freak: harry and his gender and femininity and dysphoria and euphoria

Matilda: queer trauma and queer peace

Cinema: obviously abo (but in all seriousness i actually think it's about sexy videos you send and receive from your partner)

Daydreaming: this one feels connected to She to me for some reason so i get gender vibes from it

Satellite: communication issues, struggling with vulnerability, a direct response to Defenceless

Boyfriends: i think it's a conglomeration of stuff he has experienced from his partner, things he's done to his partner, things he has seen partners do to people he is close to, and maybe even things fans have shared

Love of my Life: Home...as in Louis and Louis in England, being with Louis in England, leaving Louis behind in England, leaving England behind with Louis, him taking Louis with him even when he leaves him behind in England, Louis leaving him behind in England, his friends in England who are not like his LA "friends", Louis England Home House London Louis England English Louis Louis Louis

[sweeterthansammy]

Innocence Kink || Day 1

Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

A/N: This one isn’t the best lmao

The moment she’d left her dormitory, Ron couldn’t help himself from staring at the bare skin of her legs. Being a seventh year and wearing a skirt from your fifth year possibly wasn’t the best idea and Y/N would surely agree, seeing as she received disgusting comments from other boys.

“Might as well not wear anything,” one boy snarked.

“Wanna lift that up a little higher for me, love?”

It continued throughout the day, bringing her to a state of annoyance. One boy purposely dropped his pencil. Some would argue that Y/N was too innocent for her own good, and they were entirely correct. She bent over, the skirt flashing a little less than the curvature of her buttcheek, picking the pencil up and handing it back to the boy.

“Here,” she said, offering a sweet smile.

“Thanks,” he smirked, his eyes pasted on her behind as she walked away.

Ron was absolutely fuming and as Y/N approached him on the opposite end of the hall, she could tell.

“What the hell was that?” he grumbled, clutching onto his book as she walked by his side.

“What was what, babe?”

“You seriously- nevermind.”

She was beyond confused, her eyebrows furrowing before they entered the Great Hall. Y/N greeted Hermione with a hug, the spans of her legs on full display as she wrapped her arms around Hermione’s shoulder. Ron cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing pink as he took his seat next to Harry.

“She has no idea, does she?”

“Nope,” Ron quickly muttered, running his hands over his face.

Y/N took a seat, both of the girls confused by the boys’ flustered states.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione questioned.

“Nothing,” the boys spoke simultaneously.

Y/N bit into a grape, the juices spilling over her bottom lip.

“You’re kidding me, right!?” Ron burst out, jumping to his feet.

“What is your problem?” Y/N asked quietly, not trying to make the situation awkward for their friends.

“My problem is that you’ve been acting like a complete-”

“Ron,” Harry warned, his eyes shooting up to the ginger.

Ron took his seat with a sigh, his eyes burning into Y/N’s.

-

“You don’t know what you were doing, huh, princess?”

His cock slid between her velvety walls, hot tears streaming down her cheeks as he’d spent the past half hour eating her cunt. She let out cries of pleasure, cries of pain. She didn’t know if she wanted him to stop or if she wanted him to keep going.

“N-no, daddy!”

Her back arched against the mattress, her cunt abused and her legs sore. His hand groped her breast, the other wiping her tears.

“‘S it too much for you, baby?” Ron asked, his mind going absolutely feral with the way she looked up at him with pouty lips, eyes glossy and red.

“I know you have one more in you, princess,” he cooed, his hips slapping against hers as his arms hoisted her legs into the crevices between his elbows.

Her hips thrashed, bucking into his as her walls squeezed his cock.

“P-lease, daddy,” she cried out, a tear slipping from her eye as she felt the pit in her stomach about to burst.

He pulled out of her, his fingers soon replacing his cock as he brought her to her orgasm.

“Go on - cum for me, pretty girl.”

She did as told, her thighs caving around his hand as her climax washed over her.

“Y’know, sometimes you’re too good of a girl,” he muttered, kissing the skin of her knees as he ran a warm washcloth through her folds.

“So you want me to be a bad girl?”

He looked up at her, that certain look of darkness lingering in his irises.

“Maybe I do.”

Taglist: @yaanasluv @tovvaf @j-face-67-05-06-20 @eunoia-kth @thatcatsit @apieceofuniverse @bridemonspawn @lestrangeesme @hpbitch @rudypankowisdaddy @oleariaux @kelsiejayy @calums-ding-dong @danielsharmannn @zhangyixingxing1 @arianabrashierstuff @fan-girling-101 @ficticiouscreativity @milazka @snoopydoop1 @hufflrpuffforfred @adoregin @ilovejjmaybank @canibeoneofthepogues @mrspadfoot4 @georgeweasleysbabe @fweasleysimp @akalittletimmytim @kaitieskidmore1 @amourtentiaa @ftwert @wholebigboxofyikes @lainerain17 @cami05sworld @slytherclawdiggory @kittykylax @fific7 @toxicmodernity @anchoeritic @buckyswildflower @fanficscuziranout​ @tomshollandz @partr1dge

[0oolookitsme]

Genre- Drabble ; Pairing- ArtDirector!Y/n x Footballer!Harry ; From this verse xx

"Harry?" Y/n called for him, frowning because she woke up in the middle of might feeling as if left in Atacama Desert all alone, specifically without his arms wrapped around her.

Grabbing her jacket from where it was in a puddle, in front of the bedside table she stepped out if the room, taking her small box of biscuits with her because the lights are on in the hallway.

"Seriously preggo?" Harry rolled his eyes when he saw her suspiciously looking at him with her hair representing a birds nest.

Y/n walked further in the room and tilted his head to side by pressing her warm hands onto his cold cheek. "Do you not have practise tomorrow?" She asked, covering up her laugh by coughing.

"Yeah?", he looked at her confused.

"You forgot didn't you?" She smirked, backing away and sitting cross legged in front of him.

Panicking Harry quickly searched his brain only to find it empty at the moment.

"Forgot...what..?", he frowned, biting his bottom lip which she pulled out by her thumb.

"You were supposed buy your own red grapes on your way back from the practise!" She cheered, attacking his feet with her hands, tickling them.

"What the fuck about those?", he asked after protecting his feet, still having no idea about the bet he lost.

Rolling her eyes, she slapped his forearm and stated, "we had put a bet about who would eat the ones I bought, first!".

"Fuckin' shit!!" He gasped, absolutely not ready for the dare he would have to do.

"Ha! I won! You will have to shower with your own Shower gel!" Y/n exclaimed, jumping and running back into the room with Harry on her heels, cursing pleads as to how he was joking about, 'you always buy sour grapes!"

[sgt-seabass]

hellooooo ambs🥰🥰🥰 im sure you get a lot of these but im still going to be selfish</3

Having a lavish dinner with Steve Kemp, but he puts you back in your basement cell after

im an aries & my favorite season is spring. i love iced coffee all the time and absolutely despise grape juice. im pretty funny if i do say so myself. im a bit impulsive but also indecisive at the same time. a classic daddy issues gal<3 i love spontaneous people but also i don't like surprises that much bc i hate not knowing things. i am SO nosy– it's unreal. i recently got an emotional support water bottle (it's pink) and decorated it in harry styles stickers<3 also i obviously love talking🙄 i can't wait to see what your beautiful brain comes up with for me<33

p.s i love you

p.s again im obsessed with the clockwork au already seriously tear you apart is so absolutely incredible its been heavy on my mind for a few days now <3 I'm so in love you have no idea im so excited for more of it 💗

Fayth! I’m so sorry this took me so long to do. And omg I’m so excited that you’re excited for more of the Clockwork AU! I love you bubs.

Okay so this is a kinda specific sounding one, but hear me out. I would ship you with dbf!Ari Levinson. Why dbf? Cause Ari is mature, but he’s sick of the seriousness met with his age. He wants someone he can laugh with, and passionately love. He wants the silliness and the fun that he doesn’t get to experience any more. And you bring a fresh sunshine into his world.

Ari loves the outdoors and would take you on cute picnics in the springtime. While he’d rely on you for most of the cooking, as he struggles to even make a sandwich, he would shower you with gifts. He’d bring flowers, and new jewellery that he wants to catch sparkle against your beautiful body in the sun. He’d play along and listen to all the gossip and may even give a few quips himself.

Your love is fun and like a refreshing glass of lemonade. While he might reign in your impulsiveness at times, he leans into the spontaneity. Like bringing you iced coffee on your long workdays, or taking you away for weekend trips to amazing getaways.

part of my (closed) lake house getaway

[goldenhoneypot]

Harry reads Y/N a story to help her drift off to sleep.

A/N: inspired by Harry’s bedtime story with Calm.

word count: 1.9k

✨ enjoy ✨

Y/N is having trouble sleeping.

Usually, she has no issues falling under the sand man’s spell, knocking out like a light once her head touches her fluffy pillow, but she isn’t having her usual luck tonight. She’s fidgety, tossing and turning every other minute, and even huffing a bit under her breath out of frustration.

“What’s wrong, bunny?” Y/N’s boyfriend Harry murmurs sleepily next to her.

“Can’t sleep,” she murmurs back, although a bit frustratedly.

“No?” He inches closer to her and secures his arm over her frame. “What’s on your mind keeping you awake?”

“Nothing,” she nibbles on her lip, “but also everything?” Harry hums to let her know he’s listening, and she can feel the vibrations from it at the nape of her neck. “I can’t explain it.”

“No, I get it — thinkin’ a’ too much, but also a’ little nothin’s?”

Y/N nods. “Yeah,” she rasps. “Guess there’s just too much on my mind right now.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows in thought. “Can I do anything to help you get to sleep faster?”

“Like what?” Y/N expects to feel Harry’s hand migrate south to her pajama bottoms, so she’s shocked when he pulls away from her. “Where’re ya goin’?” She flips over onto her other side to see Harry rustling in his bedside table drawer.

“I’m gonna read to ya,” he turns on the lamp and holds out a small book in his hand, showcasing the cover to Y/N. It’s pretty; nothing but clouds and stars. “Got this book sent to me. I’ve skimmed through a few pages — think you’ll like it. It’s called Dream With Me.”

Y/N gazes at Harry with hooded eyes, appearing extra soft with her smile accompanying it. “You could read me anything, and I’d fall asleep. I love your voice.”

Harry smiles back as he moves closer to her, although sitting with his back against the headboard. “C’mere, baby.” He spreads his legs and taps the cream colored sheet in the gap he’s created. Y/N takes the hint and situates herself between his thighs, her back to his chest, and already feeling content. “Comfortable?”

“Mhm,” she hums her assent, lulling her head back against his collarbone, and crossing her arms. “Read to me, please.”

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Harry begins reading.

“Have you ever wondered what happens when you sleep?”

“I would if I could get to sleep-”

“Oh, hush.” Harry chuckles into her hair. “Let me read to you.”

Y/N nods with a playful smirk.

“Where you go and what you feel. The places that you seek. When you start to drift away, your mind becomes a book-”

“Like the one you’re reading me.”

“I said quiet.” Harry covers Y/N’s mouth, but only for a moment before she’s giggling into his palm and shoving him away by his wrist.

“We’re heading somewhere special, beyond the world of consciousness, to places more celestial.”

“That’s so beautiful,” Y/N comments softly. “This author really knows what they’re doing.”

Harry laughs under his breath. “Yeah. Now, can I continue?” Y/N nods, feeling a bit tired.

“Think about the things you cherish most, and those you love.”

Y/N squishes Harry’s forearms, sinking deeper into his body. He rewards her with a kiss beneath her ear, making her release a small noise in approval.

“Keep goin’,” she demands with a kind voice.

“A gentle scent of cedar wood is floating on the breeze; a gift from Mother Nature, and her nearby cedar trees.”

“That reminds me of when we spent a weekend at that cottage. Just you and me surrounded by nature for two days. That was nice, wasn’t it?” She cranes her neck to look at Harry, who’s smiling ear-to-ear.

“It was really nice. We should do it again, yes?”

Y/N nods happily. “Keep reading.”

Harry chuckles, finding it funny that she keeps interrupting him yet ordering him to continue reading, all at the same time.

“Picture this: a rich, green forest, damp with morning dew. Inhale the morning air, as we explore, just me and you.” Y/N begins to feel incredibly at peace, her eyes growing heavy with each passing second, but opening them when Harry nears the end of the paragraph he’s reading, “... with the babbling of a stream.”

“Remember when we found that stream behind the cottage? We had gone on a walk early that Sunday morning, holding hands,” she slinks her fingers between his that aren’t holding the book. “And then we came across the stream. It was like we were meant to find it, no?”

“Mhm,” Harry mumbles into her hair. “And then we went skinny dipping in it.”

Y/N giggles, causing Harry’s chest to rumble. “Keep reading.”

“The dew drops... forming satin beads occasionally kiss our cheeks.” Leaning his head to the left, Harry presses a kiss to Y/N’s cheek, reveling when she mewls at the contact and grips his jaw to kiss him on the lips in return. “Small pleasures, quenching needs,” he whispers against her lips. Although in a cozy, sleepy atmosphere, Harry’s cock gives a small lurch in his sweatpants when he sees Y/N’s thighs quake slightly. He wants to run his hands along her lower half, hear her moan that she wants more, and get her off with his fingers as she’s sat between his legs — because he knows that’ll put her to sleep — but he’s enjoying the closeness and softness of the moment too much right now to change gears.

He saves his naughty thoughts for the morning.

He reads on, getting farther into the calming book, and notices that Y/N’s body sinks more and more against his with each paragraph he reads.

“And time begins to fade and blur,” Harry’s breath fans across Y/N’s bare shoulder, as he pulls the fabric down to press delicate kisses to her skin, “beneath the moon’s pale glow.”

“I love the moon,” Y/N says abruptly. “She’s so pretty.”

“She?” Harry asks amusingly.

“Yuh-huh. The moon’s a woman.”

Harry laughs humorously. “Oh, really? And how’d I not know this?”

Y/N juts him with her elbow. “Keep reading.”

“Strolling on a sidewalk now, as rain begins to fall.” Harry hears Y/N let out a soft noise in disapproval, knowing she doesn’t like getting wet from the rain.

She must be taking this book pretty seriously, Harry thinks.

“It’s okay, bunny. It’s just a light sprinkle,” he assures her.

“‘Kay.”

“Its gentle pitter-patter holds us deep within its thrall... peaceful and benevolent: a gift from moonlit skies.”

“I like that,” Y/N comments, although her voice is incredibly quiet, almost a whisper. Harry knows she’s getting sleepier as he reads on, which he finds pride in that his solution to help her get a good night’s rest is working.

He continues. “Though, now the time has come, to leave this dreamy, moonlit town.”

“Nooo, I like it here.” Y/N drawls on with a pout to her lip, although her eyes remain closed. She was following along as Harry read, though, but she just doesn’t have the energy to anymore. She feels as if she could drift off to sleep any second.

“S’okay, bunny. We’re gonna go somewhere else you’ll like.” He plays into the dream universe he’s created for her.

“Now we’re lounging by a lake, while crickets chirp in nearby reeds, it’s hard to stay awake.”

“Mhm,” Y/N agrees through a hum.

He reads through a few more lines, until reaching a new setting.

“Somehow, now, we’re in a cabin, taking in this view, as the fire crackles in the corner,” Harry ducks his head to speak at the shell of Y/N’s ear, “just for me... and you.”

“I love you,” Y/N murmurs sleepily yet happily.

Harry chuckles, feeling a blush etch onto his cheeks. “I love you, too. A whole lot.”

“Where’re ya takin’ me now?”

Harry smiles at her eagerness, though encased in a lethargic voice.

“An island. Does that sound nice?”

Y/N nods.

“Eventually, we feel the powdery sand right beneath our feet. The sun above, now blessing us, with gentle, soothing heat.”

Harry expects Y/N to make a sound of approval, knowing she loves the beach and spending time in the sun. His expectation rings true as she turns on her side and brings her knees to her chest, still between Harry’s spread thighs. He caresses her hair as he continues leading her through her sleep journey.

“We dig our toes in cool, wet sand, then sit and face the sea; and let the sound wash over us — just you and me.”

Plucking random strands of hair out of the way, he isn’t shocked when he’s greeted with her closed eyes, and her lips slightly parted as she begins to take the breaths that will lead her into her nightly slumber.

He tucks her hair behind her ear and traces her cheek with the pad of his index before continuing.

“Birds and bees and rustling trees,” he pauses to recall a time he set up a picnic in their back garden, which went from feeding her grapes to thrusting his hips inside her as they laid underneath a tree.

“As we roam... a farmhouse sits alone; its open shutters pressed against old walls of stone.”

Harry’s mind begins to wander, conjuring up the idea of buying an old house with a few acres of land and surprising Y/N with it, wondering what her reaction would be. He’s sure she would love it, jumping into his arms for a kiss before more or less sprinting up the steps of the porch and opening the front door to the rest of their lives. He imagines giving the old walls a new coat of paint, Y/N being silly and rolling the large paint brush onto his torso, making a mess. He surely wouldn’t mind and would engulf her in a hug, thereafter, now the both of them covered in whatever color paint they had chosen at the store to look at every day in their new home. Harry feels a warmth spread through his chest, originating in his heart, and migrate to areas all around his body.

He knows he’s going to marry this girl one day.

He continues on, reading her the last paragraphs of the book.

“Gravity caresses us,” Harry brings his hand down from her face to her torso, giving her a slight tug toward his body, “and pulls you close to me. Friendly faces, glorious places, things we hope to do.”

Marry you, Harry thinks as he massages his thumb into Y/N’s bare hip from where her shirt rose up a bit when she changed positions.

The soft sound of Harry turning the last page fills the room.

“For now, we dream together, for all that is to follow; and know that sleep will keep us safe, for now, until tomorrow.”

A soft snore reverberates against Harry’s forearm, coming from Y/N’s parted lips, and he gently cradles the back of her head as he lowers both of them down the bed, so he can be somewhat lying down.

Now, it’s Harry’s turn to have his mind wander, as his sleeping beauty rests peacefully in his arms, creating images in his mind of what their wedding will look like, and he’s never been happier to let his mind ruin a good night’s sleep.

[sailingintothenight]

“Put your head on my Shoulder.” T.H. Imagine.

Summary: And what if after years of chasing each other like a cat and mouse, on a magical night where you two have to pretend to be a couple, you are finally able to say how you really feel about each other?

A/N: Hello everyone, after a while, and because a couple of people asked me, I wrote the second part of this story, "WANNABE", but you don't have to read it to understand this one. Anyway, I really hope you like it. Please give this story a lot of love. Thank you - V.

Tom Holland hates not being able to hate you.

The secret of his hate is because of your vanity, your selfish and free heart, your tender smile, the dimple that forms on your left cheek and your dreamy eyes that look at your grandfather as if he were the first man that you have ever loved — because you did.

Tom hates you because under a starry night, in the midst of a crowd of people and soothing music, you make your way through the mortals wearing a velvety wine red strapless dress that is lust itself on your body, black boots (velvet too) that cover you up to the knees and are as hot as hell, and your chocker - a gift from your father - from which a cross hangs, that is a tempting invitation for a sinner like him.

You are his angel with a devilish smile: but tonight, Tom Holland hates that, despite possessing all those qualities, and many more, he can only see the tenderness in your eyes when you look at your grandfather, or when you talk about him, and your smile that becomes as adorable as the face you were born with.

“You are like… staring much. Don't you think?" Harrison chuckles beside him, making Tom look away from you and your way of receiving the guests scattered around the place.

"Shit, Tom, if you turned a little faster you would look like the exorcist." Harry continues with the bland jokes, the same ones that make Sam, Harry and Tuwaine smile.

"Shut up." Tom hisses, taking a sip of his beer as he looks back at his group of friends.

But this story is not about you, but about Tom Holland, your lifelong neighbor, who you never had a conversation with other than to annoy each other, who you used to call idiot when nobody but him heard you, who used to laugh at you while filming Avengers: infinity war, endgame and finally, Spider-man: Far From Home, who used to hold your hand when you were kids because your parents were best friends, the same Tom who now drinks and look at you while you warmly greet each guest who has come to celebrate the birthday of the second man you know loved you.

“How is possible that you and he are the only two famous people at this party? What a waste of fame. Sigh." Danielle, your best friend whispers dramatically, just as you both stop at the bar to pick up more drinks.

"I'd feel sorry for you if you actually sighed." You give her a know-it-all smile, one that invites you to earn a playful slap on the butt from her.

"Please baby, I need to get something out of our friendship, otherwise this isn't working." She makes a gesture between her and you, the same sign that a boyfriend would make before breaking up.

"Tom Holland is here, why don't you go meet him?" You joke as you take the tray and walk with her by your side talking about Tom, although he was not news to you two.

"No thanks. But you can't deny that he looks sooo good. Only HE can look adorable and sexy at the same time. With those good boy eyes and wild muscles under his plain white T-shirt. Like Wow." She makes an expression of surprise, and the sound of an explosion as if her head cannot bear so much information that causes you so much laughter. "Seriously, please take that hottie. I'm sure your grandmother sent it to you as a gift."

You giggle, but your heart races at the thought of his breaking, because even though he and Hanna Johnson were never official, maybe he thought they were so. And after breaking up with her, he was back in London.

You suspected that was the reason behind his break.

"I would, but I don't love you as much as you think." You joke, just the moment you get to the table where your dear grandfather and your grandmother's friends, are, talking about you.

With just your young age, the world was a bright place for you, but here you are now, feeling how your best hits in movies escape from your hands like sand thanks to the endless words that spring from between the wrinkled lips of your grandmother's best friends, in the garden of your own house, adorned with crowded wooden tables and Christmas lights shining on you.

"Life goes by so fast, honey, you won't have that hot body for life." Says Mrs. Lee, who, at 89, still plays to be a 20-year-old from time to time. "You are... 24? 25? And you haven't had a single boyfriend yet."

"What do achievements matter if you don't have the most important thing, cutie?" Mrs. Russell asks, clicking her tongue in approval at her own words. “There are so many beautiful boys out there. My granddaughters want to be like you, but what will I tell them if you've never had a taste of real life? You are very innocent and that can work against you. You can have a little more fun while still being a lady, you know?"

Although in your cheeks bloom a crimson glow, you are aware that her words are offensive.

"You could tell the twins that you can be successful without fucking every chocolate-covered hottie that makes you an unseemly proposition." You murmur between tight lips, knowing well that the women in front of you need more than a whisper to hear certain truths. “I mean, you could tell Amy and Anne to work hard if they want to be actresses. The world is sexist, but, hey, here I am - besides, who says I don't have a boyfriend?"

You raise an eyebrow at your own question, winning several curious glances that seem to pierce you, even your grandfather, who stares at you more astonished than anyone.

"Really?" Mrs. Russell smiles, and her red lips gleam in the night. "And who is he?"

"Uh... well... I..." You giggle in a trance thanks to the bitter taste of the liquor that has your mind under a spell, leaving you completely blank and without a coherent response. "He is…"

"Hello, love." Tom presses his body against yours, suddenly, out of nowhere, wrapping his arm around your waist, so firm that you feel the pressure of his rolex in his left hand. "Hello, ladies. I heard you talking about me and I couldn't help but come and save my girl from this sea of ​​questions about who her boyfriend is. You thought I wasn't real, huh? I know my angel here is a little shy about our relationship, but there is no problem, love, you know you can show off what a good boyfriend I am with whoever you want…"

Tom smiles and enchants the older women who smile back at him, as if they are in love with his youth and his face that has it all: his cloud-fluffy brown hair that is combed to the side and back, the sparkle in his gaze and the way he smiles, making the corners of his eyes crinkle, right down to that funny eyebrow that everyone finds adorable.

From his lovely face and well-defined jaw to his personality and strong English accent: Tom looked like an angel from heaven, perhaps the devil himself because how dangerous his charm could be.

"Oh honey, I didn't know you and Tom were dating." Mrs. Lee says, with an expression between happy and sad. "My granddaughters thought they might have a chance with you, darling."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Lee." Tom answers, with a hint of happiness and pride in his voice. "I'm already taken and I like it that way."

"Yes!" You say with surprise when Tom gives you a squeeze with the hand that is holding you, shooting you a loving look to encourage you to speak. "I mean... He is."

You smile at the audience, especially at your grandfather and Danielle, who seem to have their suspicions.

"Tom..." Says Roy, your grandfather, who averts his narrowed eyes from your gaze to his, just to become the happiest person in the world as he clasps his hands in a sign of prayer. “I didn't know that you and my darling (Y/N) were together. I'm so happy! I'm sure my beloved Jules is happy too. Couldn't have asked for a better grandson."

"Thank you very much, Roy." Tom says, and it's so natural that he seems sincere. "I wanted to tell you, but we wanted to wait for our relationship to grow stronger."

"Yeah, you know that there are many actresses, blondes and blue eyes actresses who want to eat this hottie." You say and Tom laughs, nervous.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, I'd like to speak to my girlfriend in private for a moment."

Guiding you all the way, you and Tom turn around in the direction of the glass doors of your house that connect to the kitchen, breathing in the warm air from the warm walls the moment you two walk in.

"Good acting, Tom." You smile as you take a grape from the kitchen counter. "Not enough to win an EMMY but-"

"Ha. You are funny. But now I want to talk to you about something…” Tom smiles, too, giving you a devilish look, as if he never rests from it. "You owe me a favor, love."

"Of course not!" You defend yourself, nervous of the sudden change in the conversation. “You came alone like a prince on a horse. I did not call you. I do not owe you anything."

"Are you sure about that?" Tom laughs, as if he really enjoyed the moment. “Because I can go there and tell them the truth. I told you it's pathetic that you've never had a boyfriend. Besides, I wouldn't want to break Roy's heart, he looked so happy to know that his dearest granddaughter is with a good man."

You cross your arms, uneasy with the fact that you've never really fallen in love with someone, while seriously thinking about how happy, and probably relieved, your granddfather is to see that his granddaughter is with someone like Tom, who, despite of everything, yes, was a good boy.

"Okay. What do you want?"

"I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend in front of my parents."

You laugh inadvertently, although deep down you want to know if what was being said about Hannah and him was true.

"Why?"

"Everyone thinks Hannah dumped me and I don't want to see myself as a loser in front of my family and have them keep asking questions about her, it's exhausting."

"Eh, too late for that." You sigh, and Tom looks at you hopefully. "You were a loser long time ago, Tom, sorry."

"I hate you." Tom laughs.

"The feeling is mutual." You look away, and in a second you decide to contemplate why agreeing to be his fake girlfriend would be a bad decision, and why you would do it anyway. “Okay, but you know you can't call me darling. And stop looking at my chest, perv."

Tom laughs, looking up your chest into your eyes.

"It's not my fault you have worn that dress, but it seems that despite everything you didn't have a boy's body all this time. Congrats."

"Idiot."

Tom and his dreamy eyes smile as he opens the glass door for you, stepping aside so you can go out onto the field and do the performance of your life, which you discover would be more difficult than you thought as both of you approach the table on the left side of the place, where your family - made up of your mom, your dad and your older brother - are with his. So, in silence, and to let them be the ones to carry out the conversation of your supposed relationship, Tom remains standing next to you, leaving a space between Harry and him for you.

"Oh, yeah. Last night I got the iPad with the script of the Devil all the time." You say, to continue the conversation that your brother Ethan started, smiling at you. "My character falls in love with the poor and broken Arvin Russell."

Tom chuckles.

“And (Y/N) is a cold and rich bi—… girl who treats me like shit until I save her from her dad, the reverend and the crazy couple of rapists. I think you will play that role very well, love." And again and against your will, Tom brings you closer to him placing his arm around your waist, so close that his proximity makes you red.

So much so that you must place a hand on your exposed chest so that his gaze does not fall on that specific place.

“Bet your pretty ass I will. And then we will flee together into the sunset with a happy ending after killing 4 people."

His family and yours are too stunned to say a word, but just at the moment when you think they will shout hallelujah to the sky or to mention you are Frenemies, Dom makes a fist and a victory gesture with a loud yes!

“I told you they would be together before they were 25! pay me!" He yells happily at your dad, who, next to him, grunts as he searches for his wallet in his pants.

“Couldn't you wait until you turned 25, honey? It was only a few months away."

"What the hell?" Tom says, watching your father leave a $100 bill in Dom's hand.

"It's a silly thing they did when they were drunk." Nikki says, as she joins her hands in prayer just like your grandfather, just as happy as he. "It was about time you decided to be together."

"I didn't know that Tom could love someone other than Tessa." Your brother jokes.

"I didn't know anyone could love Tom more than Tessa." Harry jokes, but in his eyes you can see that part of him means it.

"Is this serious?" Your mom says, raising an eyebrow.

"It is." Tom says, and his voice is as solemn as his expression. "Mom, Dad, everyone, I want to marry this woman... someday."

Along with the expressions of happiness and surprise, theirs and yours, your brother breaks the silent while looking like a hawk at Tom.

"Her favorite color?"

"Blue." He answers, without missing a second.

"Favorite book?"

"Jane Austin's Pride & Prejudice."

"Coffee, hot or cold?"

"It depends on the season."

"Seafood?"

"Banned forever."

"Very well, you have my blessing to marry my sister." Your brother nods, like a wise old man, while you, foolishly, think of two things, how quickly he responded, and how well he knew you.

"Just that?" You question, partly offended. "Why better not give him 2 cows for my honor?"

"That's a good idea." Tom responds. "We already have a chicken so..."

You snort just like the idea of Tom buying a chicken just because there were no eggs in the store is spinning in your head, but at that very moment, your words die on your lips as Rose, your aunt and your grandfather's eldest daughter, has taken the command of the party to indicate that the most important thing of the night has arrived: the dance that your grandfather and grandmother used to have, when she was still alive.

Like a fairy tale, every couple in love gathers in the center of the garden while the song “Put your head on my shoulder” by Paul Anka begins to float in the London air that is suddenly flooded with love, to such an extent point that threatens to drown you in it.

"Would you like...?" Tom is nervous, and lets the question hang in the air.

Your breathing becomes agitated, it becomes irregular as your parents and his join the other couples, wild as your heart that beats with the fierceness of a caged animal seeking freedom.

You want to say no, but the crystallized look and happiness that you achieve in your grandfather's eyes are the impulse you need to avoid breaking his heart with the truth.

"Okay."

Tom takes your hand gently and guides you to the makeshift dance floor, placing his hands on your waist to imitate the elders.

Inside and out, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was still as beautiful as the first one he saw you when you were children; but of course, now as adults, everything was different: you were stronger, more mature, more self-confident, wilder and indomitable. But Tom didn't judge your insecurity, he never did, because you had trouble trusting in a future love that could be so real that it seemed a fairy tale - like the ones your father had read to you before bed - as deep as Roy's pain at losing his beloved Jules.

And it is then that Tom realized everything.

That's why you didn't want to be called darling, just because your grandfather used to call his great love that way. Why you never had a boyfriend. Of why you had never wasted your love giving it to someone you knew you would never have a future with, just the way he did with Hannah. Of why you have never been able to give your sincere love to someone else.

Because we're so hopeful at the beginning of things, it seems that there is only one world to gain, nothing to lose, and suddenly, we lose someone whom God knew we deeply love, leaving us with nothing but a void where there must be a beating heart.

And that's when the applause dies down, the silence overwhelms you two, time runs out and life forces you to look into each other's eyes to wonder, without words, why you did the things you did and the things you didn't.

"I'm in love with you."

"Don't."

You say the words at the same time, although they are not the words you expect to hear from the other.

And then you smile sadly, slightly because you no longer have the strength, because your body seems numb from the little alcohol you have drunk and because it seems that the world is leaning to one side with his love confession, but you also smile because Tom still has that adorable face, and a funny eyebrow that you were dying to fix. Just for fun. Just to touch him.

"You're not in love with me, you're just sad about Hannah." You whisper, desperately waiting for the song you have loved for so long to come to an end so you can flee from his arms.

"No, you don't understand, now I can see that it's you, it's always been you." Tom hates himself because he can't put his feelings and his memories into words, but his hands secure you in your place so that you don't leave, not before he can tell you a little of what he was hiding in his mind. “Since we were children I held your hand: in kindergarten, on the way home, to the park around the corner. I don't know why it is now that I can see you, always there in every step of my life, being my best friend even when we said words to annoy each other. I don't know much about love, but I know that it should make you feel good, give you peace, and that's what I feel with you. I feel at home with you, no matter where we are. And we have been in several countries away from home, but you feel like my home. And I am in love with you, and I only ask that you give me the opportunity to love the way you deserve to be loved."

You have a world of words, sharp as a knife, that could kill his confession, but against all, and because this is the first time you feel in love, you lift your hand from his shoulder, a little shaky, to brush your thumb against his brow, soft, delicate and loving, as a lover should be when loving someone for the first time.

"I still hate you."

Tom smiles and you both share a look of hope, staying in the foreground, just to be a participant in the main scene of this beautiful love story that would only be the beginning of a long night in the bright sky of your lives, the one that is like a painting made of watercolors, colors that spill over each other just to create a perfect combination, just like you two together in the eyes of any art lover.

"Not me, no. I love you."

And after that, Tom leans down a bit, feeling the softness of your lips in a real kiss, the first of many to come.

@averyfosterthoughts​ @galaxies-of-the-heart​ @heartofholland​

[absoloutenonsense]

Snippet from the Alien Harry AU I’ll probably never write

“Can I buy you a drink?” Louis asks, turning on his most charming smile. 

Harry looks deep in thought for a moment, and Louis can’t help but feel his confidence crack right down the middle. But then, Harry looks down into his eyes and says more seriously than he’s said anything else in this conversation, “Do they have grape soda?”

Louis barks out a laugh, but Harry looks unfazed. “Oh, seriously?” Harry nods and clasps his hands together in front of him. “Erm, nah, mate, probably not.”

Harry nods solemnly at that, looking down at his white loafers. Then he meets Louis' eyes again. “And orange soda?”

“Erm...”

“Or root beer?”

“I was thinking more like a glass of wine, or a scotch. You know. Something a bit harder than a fizzy drink.”

Harry lets out a low breath and shakes his head. “I don’t know what either of those things are.”

Louis smirks and shakes his head ruefully. He’s obviously taking the piss. “Alright wise-guy, how about you come with me then and you can find your preferred brand of soft drink?”

Harry beams at him. “Oh yes, I love going different places!”

Louis continues to shake his head and leads them over to the bar. He orders a scotch rocks and watches as Harry asks the bartender if she has the drink he wants. It’s the same crotchety old woman he’s been ordering from all night but she seems to brighten right up after 15 seconds in Harry’s presence. Louis can’t find it in him to be annoyed by it when he was charmed the same way not 20 minutes ago. 

Miracles upon miracles, they do in fact have orange soda. Harry is more than thrilled. While the bartender pours him his drink into a crystal glass that looks like it would scoff at the idea of having something that neon color within it, Harry leans in towards Louis (maybe a little too close, for two strangers, but Louis doesn’t mind - not one bit). He says, “I learned that it’s named orange soda both because it is the color orange and the flavor orange. Isn’t that amazing? That they could do such a thing?”

“It’s almost like they’re imitating nature,” Louis says sardonically. Harry either doesn’t catch it or thinks he’s being serious, because he nods fervently. 

The bartender hands Harry his soda and Louis pays for their drinks. He takes a sip of his scotch and stares at the man in front of him gulp his soda so quickly it’s halfway gone in 3 seconds. 

“Ahhhh,” Harry exhales. Then he nods to Louis' drink. “That must be very good if you ordered it instead of orange soda.”

Louis smiles at him and nods. He’ll play along, if that’s what Harry wants. It feels dangerous to be thinking this way already, with someone he just met, but he can’t help how he feels. His mum used to say connections like that were so rare they’d be worth more than gold, that nothing should tear you away from it if you find it. And, well, Louis always listened to his mum. 

“It’s my favorite,” Louis says, “want to try?”

Harry nods enthusiastically, and is already reaching out a hand, seemingly unbothered by sharing a glass with someone he doesn’t know. Maybe he feels this thing, too. 

Louis hands his glass over and Harry takes a bigger sip that Louis was anticipating, so his eyes go a little wide as he watches, and then Harry is coughing and shoving the glass back into Louis' hand, eyebrows pulled together and mouth twisted in disgust. “Oh, no, Louis, no! You can’t drink that.” He turns back to the bartender. “Excuse me, we will need another orange soda, immediately. It’s an emergency.”

Louis laughs and takes another slow sip of his scotch. “It’s not an emergency,” Louis laughs. 

“It’s not?” Harry asks seriously. “Does this not pose an immediate need for assistance?”

“I certainly don’t think so.”

Harry looks exasperated. “This is part of the emergency. Sometimes you don’t know you need help, so I am here to provide help.”

Harry turns around and bounces on his toes as he watches the bartender pour another orange soda. Louis has a feeling Harry will physically take his drink out of his hands (and he’ll let him- it’s the connection, okay?) so he downs the rest of it in one go. 

Just as he expected, once the soda is poured, Harry plucks the glass from Louis' hands and replaces it with the horrifying orange fizz. The curly-headed fellow looks more than pleased. “There. That will make you much happier. I’m sure of it.”

Louis smiles down at the terrifying neon in his hand now. He doesn’t doubt it will.

[vina-writes]

ohh i want to know more about Dearst Pottte!

Oh my gosh ok yes!! I’m so happy you asked! Honestly it still cracks me up 😂 The story goes thus:

I was a tiny bit drunk at a bar, and (as one does) I decided to write some Drarry fic in my notes! Sadly for drunk me, I could NOT battle my autocorrect (...or type) so I gave up. But I found the note the next morning! I think I’ve deleted it since then but it did have some funny gibberish that made me think about an equally plastered Draco writing love hate notes to a confused Harry. 

So that’s how this story begins. It’s got quite a bit written but I’ve been busy lately and probably won’t finish it for a while yet. But it still will be done! Someday! In the meantime, here’s Draco’s first (rough) letter, embodying the spirit of me and all my writing skills:

Dearst Pottte,

I’m writing every so delited to tell you. You are a PRAT. I think, so, like if you were a grape you’d be a raisin. You’re gorgeous. You should know, right? You deserv to know! That would be so unfair if you didn’t. I think so that’s the most horrible thing. You’re like     like a really pretty tree. Like you’re just so fit, like so beautiful, seriously Potter I’m being so serious here and you’re not even listening because I’m serious you’re excellent. 

So I’m really sorry, too, like I’m not crying so fuck off nd all but I’m sorry. I just want to be 

That’s good. Right, I am sighning off.

Love, 

Draco

P.S. You’re stupid haha 

P.P.S That’s clever I

[ssogoodinblue]

tagged by the limited edition @anacondavice I've never done one of these on Tumblr and its a big myspace flashback for me which is really great rip myspace also I'm indecisive be warned

Rules: Answer 20 questions and tag 20 blogs you’d love to get to know better.

Name: Esther

Pronouns: she or honestly anything you choose will not offend me. Literally it/that idc

Zodiac: Cancer

Height: 5’4” I'm pretty sure

Time: 7:12pm

Birthday: July 15th

Nationality: United States of American

Favorite bands/groups: wow it really depends on the era but Fall Out Boy, The Wonder Years, The Dixie Chicks, Pink Floyd, Paramore, Aaron West and the Roaring 20s, Maroon 5, Panic!, Brand New, Neck Deep, Near Hills, Led Zeppelin, Bleachers, Blind Pilot, 3 Days Grace, A Day to Remember, Dirty Loops, Little Big Town, Envy on the Coast, Marianas Trench, Mayday Parade, Pierce the Veil, All American Rejects, Blink 182, the cast of most musicals,

Favorite solo artists: Miranda Lambert, Johnny Cash, Anthony Green, Arianna Grande, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Natalie Maines, Patrick Stump, Ofra Haza, Ella Fitzgerald, Rihanna, these are just the ones off the top of my head at the moment, I feel like I'm really disrespectfully forgetting someone important idk. Fifteen years ago I would have said Hilary Duff and Avril Lavigne probably

Last show you binged: Currently rewatching That 70s Show like six episodes at a time. Before that, the first six seasons of RuPaul's Drag Race honestly and I don't regret a single second of it. Before that, Hamilton. Before that it was Les Mis before that it was Rent and before that it was Mad Men. I think the Office should be in there somewhere too

When you created your blog: I think 2010

Last thing you googled: "tinker bell movies in order" I really needed to know

Other blogs: haha many

Why I chose my URL: bc Fall Out Boy lyrics with like a billion meanings (one thing I love) also what a great bridge (two things I love) also I'm wearing blue so theres one more meaning AND my shirt is a fall out boy album but not the one the lyrics are on isn't that ironic (three things I love)

How many people you’re following: 5k because apparently, that is the max hahaaaaa

How many followers you have: idk like maybe 400 or 300?

Average hours of sleep: seriously either thirty minutes or twelve hours those are my only options I wish I was joking but it is funny like a joke

Lucky number: Idk I wouldn't know how to decide

Instruments: Currently, none, I walk around my house and sing all day like fucking snow white honestly. In the past though, most. Except horns/brass/woodwind never did any of those.

Currently wearing: Black leggings and a very large black hoodie no this was not intended it happens a lot though. Also socks with Stitch on them

Dream trip: ugh idk everywhere. Every time my laptop shows me a new pretty picture on my login screen I wanna go. Super old castles and towns in Europe. France for the food. Somewhere tropical with white sand and clear water. Somewhere snowy with mountains where you can see the northern lights. Literally any of the national parks.

Favourite food: Potatoes all day baby any way shape or form okay but also cheese. Also fruit just fruit in general fuck yeah. Favorite meat though, lamb shawarma oh my god. Favorite snack, yogurt with grape nuts chocolate chips and banana/strawberry chunks I can't remember the last day I didn't have this tbh

Favourite song: How to answer this one hmm well every time I have my whole spotify library on shuffle and something pops up that I think "this is it this is my favorite song" I add it to a playlist and that playlist is twelve hours long so

Top 3 fictional universes to live in: Harry Potter or Bag End or Under the Sea yes as in the Little Mermaid. That crab really sold it

I have nobody to tag on here its real tragic, so if you've bothered to read this far into my pile of nonsense then I'd be happy to know more about you

[potter-loves-malfoy]

Author/Artist: @potter-loves-malfoy  (potter_loves_malfoy on Ao3)

Title: it’s a thing to see (when a boy comes home)

Rating: E

Warnings/Content Notes: (past) minor dubcon, hazy definitions of consent (they were just both,, very drunk) 

Summary: If it was anyone but James—or any other family member—he would tell Harry about it in a heartbeat. But there’s just something off-putting about telling your godfather, ‘It’s weird between us because I fucked your son five years ago, right before I fucked off to Japan for five years, and then ignored all of his owls. Oh, I also definitely would not mind fucking him again.’

A/N: I strayed a little from Harry and Draco matchmaking but they definitely do help!

This fic wouldn't be what it is if it weren't for my lovely Alpha Celila @celilasart and amazing beta Ana @static-abyss. Seriously. I could not have done this without the both of you, I am eternally grateful.

Title from The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, courtesy of Ana.

I will be posting a chapter per day! This is not the full work. I repeat this is not the full work!

Thank you so much to the @jeddyfest mods for organizing such a lovely fest! 

Prompt (if applicable): It's been five years since James and Teddy spent the night together and Teddy still can't stop thinking about it. Extra info: Harry and Draco as matchmakers!

Read it’s a thing to see (when a boy comes home) here!